Tainted or Faded: The Unfurling of the Oyster Dress

Skye Margiotta

“The mind could not apprehend itself directly, but rather perceived itself reflected in the traces left behind by its efforts.” — Joan Copjec, Read My Desire (Copjec 80)

Fashion designer Alexander McQueen designed a dress that would seem to last for ages even in its deterioration: the Oyster Dress. The Oyster Dress is a silk gown that is sand-colored, layered in waves similar to the lips of a mollusk, exposes a skeleton, and has ripped fabric cascading from its shoulder to its upper thigh. I created an alteration of the dress that is the same design—except that the material is velvet and that the color is pink. How does my worldly alteration taint the otherworldly original? For example, what does its different color and the material expose about the Oyster Dress that one would not have noted otherwise?

According to the gown’s description, the gown represents a “bruised pearl encased in a deconstructing oyster” (The Metropolitan Museum of Art). Even though the wavy layers of the gown, from its hem to the hipline, suggest the wavy lip of an oyster, how does the dress imply a “pearl”? Even more intriguing, a “bruised” pearl? To respond to the former question, the head of the dress’ potential wearer is the most pearl-like aspect. Raw pearls come in various shapes: round—the rarest shape—tear-drop shape, non-symmetrical, irregular, disk-shaped (“Pearl Knowledge”). These categories sans a perfectly round pearl could be classified as “bruised”. A symmetrical, round pearl suggests fullness, fulfillment, an ideal. It is free from expressing “damage” from the oyster, its home of development. If the pearl comes in various forms, then a head—a shape of various degrees of roundness, symmetry, and shape—is represented as the “bruised pearl” noted in the gown’s description. It is likely bruised and imperfect, or at least, the wearer admits to themselves being imperfect wearing a dress that is non-symmetrical and shows ripped fabric. The dress itself then is the “deconstructing oyster”. It has influence over the “pearl” or the head of the wearer. The wearer, interestingly, plays a vital role of being an accurate visual representation of the “bruised pearl”.

What does being “bruised” signify? How does one become bruised, according to the gown’s characteristics? One interpretation of the former question is noting the relationship between the wearer of the dress and the dress itself. The dress seems to represent external authority figures, which tend to be parents (who “create” a person through birth). This assumption of the dress being parent-like is due to its description of being a “deconstructing oyster”—an oyster is the home of the pearl. The implication of the dress unraveling from the hem to the hipline may indicate the abandonment of the parent-like oyster to a pearl in its physical development. The wearer is the consequence of abandonment, the survivor of the shipwreck. The unraveling points to an even grander argument of a person being vulnerable without the guidance of a parental figure, whose creeds, drives, and impulses, shape who a person is. Nevertheless, it is ironic that the description of the “bruised pearl” implies that the “pearl”—the person—is vulnerable and thus susceptible to wrongful influences due to the abandonment of a rightful figure. An actual pearl, however, is an ulcer formed when an irritant enters an oyster—it is not “vulnerable” at all as it harms its home of development, the oyster, in order to be developed. The lack of vulnerability and the imposing of harm from the pearl suggest the potential of manipulation by the wearer onto external influences. The dress therefore transcends from being a visible marker of survivor’s loneliness and vulnerability to a marker of satisfaction due to influencing those around it. It is further characterized by the satisfying regular pattern of wavy layers from the dress’ hem to its hipline. These layers obscure and hide the figure underneath, representing a manipulator hiding its true intentions to manipulate. Even with the permanent, irregular damage of ripped fabric, it is clear that there is a manipulation in the dress’ poised romantic construction from its foundation to its hipline.

The original gown romanticizes the deterioration of itself, whether from the negative, abandoning external influences imposed upon it or from its own imposing on the external world. From the hem to the hipline, the wavy layers are of the same wave, each high and low of the waves are identical. These layers are encircled into medium-sized twists that are part of an even larger spiral of the dress. Yet there is no irregularity in this pattern. The inner skeleton of the dress from the hipline to the shoulder line is exposed, removing any semblance of layering and thus hiding, which indicates vulnerability. However, the skeleton remains intact: the shoulder straps are whole, there is no ripping or holes in the symmetrical skeleton corset. The only seemingly unplanned aspect of the gown was the ripped fabric that cascades down from one shoulder and to the center of the body, down toward the thigh. On the other hand, my alteration is the same sans the fabric and, more interestingly, the dress is a pink color. The pink color emphasizes the romanticism that the rounded curves of the waves and the tight-fitted skeleton bodice exude because pink symbolizes a non-threatening, non-controlling, romantic color. To further expand upon color, in comparison with the muted sand-color dress, its romantic aspects are not as obvious as the color is duller than the pink. Its romantic qualities may influence the viewer unconsciously. One thus may unconsciously view the Oyster Dress through a romantic lens under the guise that it completely represents vulnerability as a lone survivor, sadly abandoned—when, in fact, it gives more than it lets on.

Not only does the Oyster Dress obscure a romantic view of tragedy, but it also emphasizes a lack of hope through color that my alteration does not exude. For example, even though my alteration is an exact replica of the Oyster Dress in a different color and fabric, its pinkness is more vibrant. The vibrancy indicates a hope that would prevail against the tragedy the strips of fabric represent. In comparison, the sand-colored dress seems, not only a different color, but faded from the pink color I included. In addition, the silk fabric of the Oyster Dress compared to the velvet fabric of my alteration emphasizes the former’s lightness and thus its ethereality and immortality. My alteration, on the other hand, is denser and has gravity forcing more influence upon it than it would the Oyster Dress. Hence, the Oyster Dress seems to indicate that the damage from whatever external influence is “immortal” or, more clearly, permanent. It cannot obtain vibrancy again whereas my dress is more hopeful—that optimism for life is just around the corner.

Through the wearing of the Oyster Dress, the wearer receives an aura of immortality (e.g., through silk fabric) and unique vulnerability (e.g., through the raw ripping of fabric assemblages) that my alteration, through the use of pink velvet, does not exude. However, the wearer’s seemingly vulnerable aura is manipulated (Gasp! A human hand placed upon it!) as the Oyster Dress’ regular pattern of twisted layers and its intact skeleton—which both count as the major parts of the dress—are not as irregular and hence raw as the ripped fabric cascading from the shoulder to the upper thigh. My dress, although highlighting its temporality through a dense and thus seemingly earthly fabric, exposes the romantic aspects of the Oyster Dress through the use of color. Without the comparison between my alteration to the Oyster Dress, would the latter appear so organic? Would it even appear so ethereal?

Works Cited

Copjec, Joan. Read My Desire: Lacan against the Historicists. MIT Press 1994.

“Pearl Knowledge.” Raw Pearls, https://rawpearls.com.au/pearl_knowledge.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/88645.

I pledge my honor that this paper represents my own work in accordance with University regulations.

Signature: Skye Margiotta


Comments are closed.