Fashion on Film: The Light and the Dark Sides of Horror
Article by Gabriella Sotiriou and Mia Foale
Halloween usually inspires only one question in our hearts or minds: trick, or treat? This year, however, we wanted to pose another question. We are all too aware of how when October rolls around, black becomes the new black, again. But what about those horror films that find the sinister in the sunlight, and what about the trends that stem from them? Here, writers Gabriella Sotiriou and Mia Foale make the case for frights in the night, and dismay in the daytime. Which do you prefer? Let us know in the comments!
Dark, Deadly and Downright Trendy - Gabriella Sotiriou
When I think of Halloween my mind immediately goes black. Literally. Year after year black seems to be the typical colour that rules the holiday. Even the girls who really couldn’t be bothered to spend time or money on a costume always choose to go for the tried and trusted cat - specifically a black one. I ask myself - why is this the colour of the season? The answer that I’ve found is that it ticks all the boxes. It’s simple (tick), it’s accessible (tick) and most importantly, it’s sexy (mega tick). In celebration of the spooky season, I’m here to give all you ghouls and gals a quick history lesson (albeit with many holes and definite favouritism) on why black cannot be beaten.
What springs to my mind before anything else is vamp. Plain old vamp. Like Ozzy Osbourne but with more glamour and less...ripping apart a live bat on stage during a set. Anyway - the term vamp emerged in 1935 when an issue of Vogue featured a spread about how Turkish women would outline their eyes using heavy, dark eyeliner to create an almond shape. Bam! The vamp look was born. Before ‘vamp’ became official, the flappers of the 20s were rocking the dark and smudged eye/lip, causing the Oakland Tribune on March 5th 1930 to give them the rather sassy title of the "slinking sisterhood with the deadly eyes”. So the flapper was the original vampire - sleeping all day and dancing all night, although I guess they preferred a cocktail or two over the blood of their victims. Black suggests danger, excitement, and apparently, a bloody (get it?) good time. No wonder it is so popular. These femme fatales have gone on to inspire a multitude of characters from all your favourite spooky (and not so spooky) films.
The thing about black is its ability to evoke mystery and allure. And for some reason this often translates as ultimate sex appeal. I’ve handpicked a couple of examples to perfectly demonstrate this effect but trust me there were many more than the few mentioned here on my original list. First up is the one, the only, Elvira Mistress of the Dark, the horror host of The Vampira Show. Elvira is always seen wearing a very tight long black gown with the lowest neckline you’ve ever seen, only enhanced by Elvira having the most noticeable boobs you’ve ever seen. It goes without saying that this dark vampire-esque look oozes sex appeal - which was kind of the point. Putting on a typical valley girl affected voice, Elvira became known for her double entendre comedy that, unsurprisingly, often referred to her boobs. There is something about the combo of black, tight and revealing makes men (and women) fall to their knees. Yes, it is sexy in all the traditional senses but it crucially also has a sense of spook about it which just seems to work. At least Elvira seems to think so - she’s been wearing the same costume since the 80s. Terrifying vampire x visible breasts slightly encased in black is what halloween has been about since the very beginning.
What Elvira shows us is that it’s never simply about the dress...even if it has a huge thigh slit that genuinely nearly meets the bottom of the neckline. It’s also the brilliant hair and makeup that complete the vampire aesthetic. Typical vampy makeup comes in the form of very darkly contoured cheeks and eyes that heighten...well the shape of her actual skull I suppose (very scary) which is only enhanced through the rest of her face appearing whiter than the whitest shade of pale. Chuck a red lip on there and you’ve got a winning combination. But the key here, what makes Elvira look more monster than anything else is the wig. Blimey, that wig. A dark mass that resembles equal parts beehive and mullet the wig is really the key here. Oh and she always has the longest, darkest black pointed nails - literal claws for ultimate fear factor.
Jumping from one Mistress of the Dark to another, Mrs Morticia Addams is next on the list. Again we see a beautiful example of the dark vamp look and so a lot of the same rules apply here. Long black dress, check. Dark, beautifully shiny hair, check. Long, talon nails, check. Heavily contoured makeup with the lightest foundation that the MUA had in their kit, check. Moricia’s look is the epitome of sleek, saucy and without a doubt, ghoulishly gorgeous.
This tried and tested formula of ‘scary lady’ character has even infiltrated children’s films. But maybe that’s because Angelina Jolie is wearing it. And yes I am fully aware that Maleficent is not necessarily a Halloween film but it’s Angelina Jolie with horns so it’s going in. The Maleficent costume doesn't necessarily break any boundaries but it does do what it does very well. Long black gown, exaggerated neckline (but this one goes up, tudor ruff style, rather than down, boob style - it is a children’s film after all) and ghoulish cheek contour aided here with prosthetics. It’s fabulous, it’s glamorous, it’s sexy and it’s a little bit scary. Happy Halloween (or not, it’s not a halloween film remember?)
Tall, dark and beautiful is proving to be a tried and tested formula. According to the halloween film industry, that if you combine these key factors you immediately wind up with something suave and sexy. Black has always been a colour that is associated with authority - after all, judges' robes are indeed black - and when combined with a tight, figure hugging dress and a beautiful woman, it seems to send people into a frenzy of adoration and salvation. Equal parts fear and lust seems to never fail and it looks as though many Hollywood directors have come to rely on this standard of spook to create character after character and really, can you blame them? Women like Elvira, Morticia and Maleficient have worked their way into most teenager’s imaginations and have become the standard for what is sexy. No wonder the costume comes with ‘smug smirk’ as one of the accessories. What probably helps fuel this fantasy is that no one really dresses like this in real life (and if they do they aren’t doing it well without the help of the Hollywood budget). Ultimately the ‘slinking sisterhood’ doesn’t look like it's breaking up any time soon and we have these wonderfully scary x sexy women to thank for it. Black will forever be seen as the colour associated with evil happenings occuring in the shadows, the magical power of witches and wizards from their cauldrons to their lipstick colour, the symbol of something both scary and exciting all at once.
Well Lit and Well Dressed – Mia Foale
July 2019 saw the release of Midsommar, exciting horror hounds and fashion fanatics alike with trends and tropes that live in our heads rent free over a year on. What was immediately striking about Ari Aster’s malignant masterpiece, a languid slow burner of a horror that juxtaposes beautiful costumes and scenery with acts of salacious gore, was the use of light. As an audience, we have become so accustomed to darkness fuelling our anxieties, wary of things that go bump in the night, that for something to go, often gruesomely, crack in the light, was a revelation. But was it a cinematic revolution? Here, in a true, exorcist-style head-spin, I will be looking backward at sun-soaked horror and the clothes these films reveal.
The horrors evoked in Midsommar stem, as in most horror films, from a normalcy which is quickly subverted and put under immense strain. This is artfully enacted through the wardrobe of female protagonist, Dani. At the outset of the film, Dani lives in clothes of comfort: a palette of neutral tee-shirts and trousers that could have been bought anywhere. Dani’s character is one of camouflage – this is accompanied by an intense desire to blend in and be part of a larger group, which motivates her plot for the rest of the film. These initial costumes are a failing uniform: despite the blandness of these clothes, she is the outcast within her group and struggles to fit in. As she becomes drawn further into the cult, Dani dons a new uniform, one near identical to the women she surrounds herself with. As Dani becomes more and more immersed in the cult, her outfits even surpass those of the other women: in finding a uniform Dani has, ironically, found a way to create a striking identity that distinguishes and celebrates her. Dani slips into this costume (literally and metaphorically) with ease because it represents that which her former friends urged her change about herself. The dresses of Midsommar are ones that symbolise tension. In a film that relies heavily on gore, the white of the dresses becomes stark: it anticipates staining and damage, a constant visual threat that violence and blood are imminent. This tension is further made literal in the fabric of the dresses. Embroidery and smocking features heavily in the dresses worn in the cult – both of these processes involving the gathering of fabric, and literally hold it in tension. Dani’s internal tension at the outset of the film is slowly relinquished and becomes external through moments of intense group catharsis, and moreover, becomes externalised literally upon the clothes that Dani wears.
One drawback of the traditional horror film is that its costumes are often obscured: both literally, by the darkness, and also behind the scenes – often, special effects and setting have to take budget priority, and attention to costume detail is forgotten. Moreover, the characterisation of the horror protagonist often renders useless the need for stylish costume. These characters tend to have their normality emphasised sartorially, reiterating the fact that this terrible series of events could really happen to anyone – even if they go to Church, have a nuclear family, and dress like Ed Sheeran. To be strikingly dressed in horror traditionally puts a large McQueen style skull on your back – unless you’re already the villain. Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Killing of a Sacred Deer subverts all these traditions. Described by some as a psychological thriller rather than horror, it still ticks all my horror boxes (it is the only film I’ve ever seen someone pause out of genuine stress, no less). The Murphy family are near excruciatingly normal, even as circumstances begin to unravel around them. The exception? Anna Murphy, played by Nicole Kidman’s, fabulous wardrobe. Anna’s need to control her surroundings in the depths of psychic existentialism is a point of note in every scene, each outfit perfectly complementing her surroundings. Those surroundings are saturated with unnatural light – from the white light of a hospital to the strip lights of a diner, the viewer is infrequently afforded a glimpse of the outside world. Even when there is light, the desire for the natural is frustrated. For example, as Murphy leans against the window, longing to be outside, her gown mimics the flowers of the nature that taunts her on the other side of the glass. This mirroring is anticipated from the outset of the film, and highlights Anna’s need for control. When Anna first visits the hospital, she wears an austere blue dress: crisp and starch. It could be made of the hospital curtains, or a repurposing of the scrubs that the medics around wear whilst rushing to treat her family. Does she pull it off? Absolutely. Whilst the basic message of the film was always clear (don’t go to work drunk kids! Especially if you’re a surgeon!) the implicit, and more chilling message: that everything is beyond our control, the universe will balance itself against your actions regardless of what you do, and there is no stopping its relentless, internal scales of justice – is visually brought to light through Anna Murphy’s stark but sophisticated wardrobe.
Another bleached out slow burner is Picnic at Hanging Rock. This one is up for debate as to the extent to which it could be classed as a horror, and opinions often vary based on viewer’s personal fears. Picnic at Hanging Rock simultaneously functions as a romance which frustrates perhaps some of its potential to horrify, but this is also where the true horror is located: regardless of how beautiful or talented you are, no matter your prospects or your proclivity for piano playing, you can still become embroiled in an unsolvable disappearance of all of your closest friends and ruin your own life in the process. This sun-soaked horror-romance is set in Australia, and white and cream long prairie dresses, delicately interspersed with lace, are abound. The power of a gaggle of giddy girls in white dresses has long been attested to in film, although perhaps this is the one that started it all. There is something simultaneously beautiful and incredibly intimidating about this now-iconic visual of a group of girls in these long white dresses, and with each cinematic generation a new set of preoccupations inform its fear factor. This combination of light, lace and languid beauty has been seen again and again, often toeing the line between stunning and chilling its viewers. Sophia Coppola’s remake of Jeffrey Eugenides’ The Virgin Suicides, for example, or her far darker and often forgotten more recent film, The Beguiled showcase this beautifully. Perhaps, if the target demographic for the horror film is allegedly (although, in recent years, disputably) the teenage boy, then what’s more terrifying than the teenage girl?
Returning to maybe the one that started it all – Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. Taking material from thriller-queen Daphne Du Maurier’s short story of the same name, Hitchcock broke cinematic convention by favouring daylight for much of the film. Discarding the assumption that to be scared is a strictly night-time activity, the everyday becomes terrifying as a murder of crows becomes, well, murderous, as they and the other local birds overrun the town. The daylight also showcases the wonderful costumes of Melanie Daniels, played by Tippi Hedren. Perhaps this film is also the inception of the theme that has haunted this piece on well-dressed women in well-lit films – control. The sharp twin suits, the best of which is a muted pistachio green, is an ahead of its time take on power dressing, exuding uniformity, and control. The glamour of Melanie, which is a departure from the modern horror protagonists, is far more aligned with the female stars of the period. The stylishness that we would now associate with the femme fatale or the villain here celebrates a time where the sophisticated was the standard, as that has slowly evolved over time, so too have our horror heroines.
So, where do your favourites fall? Do they skulk in the shadows or lounge in the light? Either way, our favourite horror films can clearly provide major inspiration for dressing for all hours of the day, from the heroic to the horrifying. Let us know your favourites in the comments!