Chapter 10 #3
It was because of this friendship with Mariette that Alice was in the crowd at the showing of Elisabeth Fontaine’s first couture collection in the spring of 1929.
The senior staff at the fabric shop had been invited, as they were important suppliers to Elisabeth Fontaine, and that included Mariette’s sister Annie, who kindly allowed Mariette and Alice to tag along.
Although Fontaine had already attracted some attention from insiders, she was still a fairly unknown quantity to the fashion world before her first collection was launched, and there wasn’t the fanfare or strict protocols and guest lists that there would have been at a Chanel showing, or a Lanvin, or any of the other more established designers.
Alice notes indignantly in her journal that Mariette’s sister told them sternly that she didn’t want them to attract attention, and to keep quiet.
As if they needed instruction, she fumes.
But never mind, no bossy big sister could dim her excited curiosity about the showing.
The first Fontaine collection might have been launched fairly quietly, at least in high fashion terms, but unknown to Alice and Mariette at the time, among the crowd were influential people who were immediately struck by the freshness and originality of the young designer’s style.
Her day dresses were simple yet striking, mostly made of various silks, crepe de chine, georgette, silk jersey, as well as the finest cotton voile in a variety of colours.
There was not a black dress among them. This was a bold move, for black was the default chic colour at the time, from Chanel’s classic ‘little black dress’ to department store bestsellers.
However, the light coats worn over Fontaine’s day dresses were black, cut slim and swirling, showcasing the beauty of the dresses beneath like a frame around a painting.
Some dresses featured sleeves or collars bordered in contrasting colours, while others were embellished with clusters of small embroidered white flowers, inspired by the floret clusters of white lilac which was reputedly one of Fontaine’s favourite flowers.
The flower embellishments were found as details on a sleeve or a hem or a collar, or trailing over a shoulder, rather than more conventionally positioned.
The effect was utterly charming, and the dresses looked like they’d be easily worn, and comfortable as well as beautiful.
There were also a few skirts and blouses in bold Matisse-like patterns and colours, as well as elegant jackets featuring fine dots or stripes, and a small but delicious range of sleepwear—satin pyjamas and lace nightgowns—that Alice and Mariette immediately coveted.
But it was the evening dresses that most caught the attention.
There were only three of them, and each drew a gasp of surprise and pleasure as the models paraded them.
The first dress was called ‘Crépuscule’, Twilight, and was a graceful sheath of pearly silver silk satin, worn with an ethereal organza shawl in palest pink, bordered with fine white beading, creating an effect of changing light as you moved.
The second dress, ‘Minuit’, Midnight, was magnificent in rich dark indigo shades of silk charmeuse, with an inset panel of silver lamé on the bodice and a skirt whose side panels were decorated with a scattering of silver sequins that made it seem like the wearer was trailing spangles of moonlight.
And the third, ‘Petit Matin’, Early Morning, was made of pale blue chiffon over ivory-coloured georgette, with floaty, unlined short sleeves and a flared skirt with a hemline shorter than the other two dresses.
It was paired with a wrap coat of pale gold silk velvet, its edges and hem exquisitely hand-painted with the deep blue flower known as belle de jour in French, and morning glory in English.
That one was Alice’s favourite, but all three dresses filled her with wonder and delight.
And she wasn’t the only one. After each individual dress was paraded and the three models came out together, the crowd applauded, and when Elisabeth Fontaine herself—a slight, dark-haired, dark-eyed figure in a beautiful linen skirt suit—came out herself, the applause was absolutely thunderous.
Later, as the crowd surged around the designer, everyone vying to offer compliments, Alice and Mariette saw a handsome young man approach her.
They knew who he was, for they had seen his picture in the papers before—Edmond de Valmy, a celebrated tennis player.
What they didn’t know—what the world didn’t know—was that this wasn’t the first time Edmond and Elisabeth had met, but it was certainly the first time they had been seen in public together, and that, along with the huge success of the show, set off a frenzy of speculation in the press.
From then on, the fame of Elisabeth Fontaine was assured.
Her distinctive face was in all the papers, her creations were the talk of the city and even praised by other designers, such as Chanel and Lanvin.
The originals sold out, a few licensed copies were made, and sneaky imitations of the day dresses also appeared.
But the evening dresses stayed strictly haute couture only, their patterns jealously guarded.
The financial crash of late 1929 significantly delayed the creation and launch of her next collection, but in the fifteen months between her first showing and the date that was set for the highly anticipated second, she released a limited range of beautiful accessories—scarves, wraps, detachable collars—small luxuries which her clients might still afford, and which meant her staff could still be employed while she worked on the plans for her new collection.
During that time, Elisabeth Fontaine’s life changed dramatically.
She became both more visible and more wary, utterly secretive about her new collection and fanatical about security at her workshop, yet also basking in the acclaim.
Her life changed in another way, too. For, against the initial opposition of his family, she became engaged to Edmond de Valmy, their whirlwind romance further cementing her place in popular imagination.
But it wasn’t a hollow celebrity pairing: this was real love.
Theirs was truly an equal partnership, for in the all-too-brief time they had together, these two talented young people inspired, supported and understood each other in a way that is all too rare and that would only have grown if they had lived.