The British-Turkish designer Erdem Moralioglu is known for drawing inspiration from bold women and successfully dissecting their personalities to create elegant fashion to worldwide acclaim. His latest muse for his spring/summer 2024 collection was Deborah Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire (1920–2014).
Known as “Debo” to her family, the Duchess of Devonshire was the youngest of the famous Mitford sisters, born in London in 1920. In 1941 she married Andrew Cavendish, the younger son of the Duke of Devonshire, who became the heir when his brother was killed in action, and took up the title when his father died.
Debo was famous for being the lady of Chatsworth House and championed it her whole life, playing a key role in its restoration and helping to develop the house and grounds as a successful commercial operation. As well as being a famous society beauty, she also enjoyed country life, and loved to tend her chickens.
Far from a comprehensive portrait of Debo’s style, Erdem’s collection is a creative reinterpretation of the passions and fashions of a muse the designer never personally met, but got to know intimately through her belongings and surroundings.
Debo’s archive and Erdem’s reinterpretations are now the subject of Imaginary Conversations, a new exhibition at Chatsworth House, the family seat in Derbyshire.
Erdem’s respect, admiration, and perhaps even affection for Debo are evident from the moment you walk into the exhibition. So are the themes shaping it: passions split between a rural and elite society lifestyle, a profound passion for Elvis, a collection of bug jewels and, of course, Chatsworth itself, a stunning English baroque stately pile that is a hugely successful visitor attraction.
The first piece on display is an unravelled tweed suit representing Debo’s love of gardening outside of her royal engagements. “I liked to imagine the raw edges of this suit being ravaged by her chickens,” explained Erdem. Unfinished edges reappear throughout the exhibition, including two damask opera coats with picked edges on display.
A flared skirt overprinted with motifs borrowed from the Devonshire hunting tapestries symbolises the strong connection between the Debo and the house. Now at the Victoria & Albert Museum, the tapestries were donated to establish the Chatsworth House Trust amid financial difficulties after the second world war. To Erdem, they represent Debo’s commitment to maintaining the house and its collection. This skirt – and the exhibition itself – honours her legacy.
A rich seam of signature style
Another section takes inspiration from Debo’s collection of bug jewels. Every year for their anniversary her husband, the duke, would give her a new bug. In Erdem’s designs the bugs are translated into appliqués and embroideries. Debo’s collection of bug brooches – dragonflies, butterflies, spiders, beetles – reappears later in the exhibition, surrounding a portrait of Debo in 1952 by Cecil Beaton, next to more of Erdem’s creations.
The duchess’s passion for Elvis is reflected in a silver suit with a sequined hem recalling a disco ball, and a blue leather cowboy jacket with fringes and sequins. Nearby, a case with some of Debo’s most precious objects contains a small purse that reads “Elvis” in silver sparkles. Her most cherished Elvis slippers guide us through to the next room.
The centrepiece of the exhibition is, arguably, a one-of-a-kind tulle dress made using one of the old Chatsworth chintz curtains. It was embroidered by none other than Cecily Lasnet, Debo’s great-granddaughter.
Unravelling textiles in historic collections should not be executed irresponsibly. In this case, Chatsworth House’s textile curator Susie Stokoe allowed the piece to be used only because there are more curtains of the same fabric available.
She has also acquired recent reproductions to continue building the house’s collection. The one-of-a-kind embroidered dress is surrounded by other designs similarly pieced together with mixed fabrics – in this case reproductions and redesigns of historical textiles.
Altogether, they showcase Debo’s constant repurposing of fabrics and symbolise a post-war attitude of make-do-and-mend. In a way, they also epitomise fashion design, which begins with a source of inspiration and requires designers to actively transform it into new creations that feel fresh and unique.
Fashion scholars often compare fashion designers to quiltmakers, who take up old fabric to repurpose it into something new – attached to, but different from, the original. This process is encapsulated in a recreation of Erdem’s studio that forms part of the exhibition: viewers are immersed into the process from gathering inspiration to sketching designs, evaluating fabric swatches, cutting patterns, prototyping, and assembling the final collection.
Through their work, fashion designers also become important mediators between the past and the present, as fashion theorist Caroline Evans has explained when comparing fashion designers with ragpickers. Far from a rummager, Erdem’s elegant creations unveil the work of a master of translation.
A grouping of a portrait of Debo by John Ulbright, one of her haute-couture undergarments and a corseted dress by Erdem encapsulate his ingenuity. “I was inspired by taking something you’d never see and bringing it outside,” he explained. Undergarments, in particular, create a feeling of intimacy that becomes precious especially when the objects are on display.
But the sense of intimacy goes beyond the conversation between duchess and designer, and shapes the entire exhibition. Conversations between visitors, curators, designers and Debo herself through the house and her objects arise throughout this wonderful exhibition.
Altogether, these conversations exemplify the circular nature of fashion design and embody a vivid and thoroughly engaging interpretation of a woman of spirit and purpose. It is also encouraging to see such a fully realised example of successful collaboration between fashion and cultural institutions.
Laura Beltrán-Rubio does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
