Moda x Machina: An Archival Look at Fashion's Connection to Technology

At first glance, fashion and machinery seem to come from very different worlds. While couture is identified by its intensely personal, handmade element, and is designed to fit the figure of a specific client, machinery is its polar opposite, born of post-war mass production and scalable ideas. And yet, throughout the last century, the pages of L’OFFICIEL have shown that luxury fashion and a specific form of machinery—transportation—can often be found side by side, working together to propel similar ideals of glamour and innovation. 

At the turn of the 20th century, the marriage between fashion and machinery was direct. New technologies were incorporated into garments through developments in textile manufacturing with the creation of materials like rayon and nylon. In the 1920s, costume balls became sites of technological experimentation, leading to some of the first forms of wearable technology. At Count Etienne de Beaumont’s ball in 1924, the eccentric Italian socialite Marchesa Luisa Casati wore Paul Poiret’s “Fountain Dress,” which necessitated a complex design of wiring and pearls. According to the artist Christian Bérard, the Marchesa and Poiret’s attempt at design innovation ended up resembling a “smashed zeppelin.” Some of Casati’s other experimental garments would quite literally go up in smoke thanks to their rudimentary and very literal executions. For example, when Casati attended an event as Saint Sebastian, her armor-like costume—which had been covered with illuminated arrows—had faulty wiring, delivering a powerful electrical shock to the Marchesa. 

As technology began to infiltrate new facets of everyday life in the ensuing decades, the relationship between fashion and machinery morphed into the concept of “lifestyle.” When automobiles became widely available in the early decades of the 1900s, they quickly became symbols of innovation and novelty, as well as luxury and wealth. 

In the 1920s, during the first decade of L’OFFICIEL’s tenure, articles focusing on the fashionable “lifestyle” represented by automobiles quickly overtook the publication. A column featuring American and European socialites dressed in the most iconic designers of the era and posing alongside their own vehicles became a staple in each issue. Credits featured the names of the designers responsible for dressing these women alongside those of the manufacturers of their automobiles, implying that the cars were an important accessory to any fine lady’s look.

The celebration of car culture was indicative of a larger trend of what was expected from the fashionable woman. Prior to this, society women enjoyed far fewer freedoms; were limited in their ability to travel independently; and did not tend to prioritize athletic and leisure activities. However, following the advent of the motorcar, the fashionable way of life leaned into the modern ideals of sport, speed, and freedom—at least at the upper echelons of society. In addition to identifying the automobiles of wealthy women as a form of fashion expression, L’OFFICIEL celebrated female drivers who had competed in racing cups. 

This fixation with motorized vehicles was also reflective of the values claimed by a quickly modernizing world. During the 1920s, the concepts of reproduction, efficacy, and replication—all key to the increasingly popular “Fordist” attitude—reigned supreme in arts and culture. The Art Deco design movement was visually symbolic of this attitude, and valorized smooth, graphic lines and repetitive geometric patterns. These appeared across architecture (most notably New York’s Chrysler building and Rockefeller Center); objects (particularly motor vehicles); and fashion (such as the boyish, boxy shapes popularized by Chanel, or the iconic beaded dresses of the era, which moved in a linear way that recalled machinery). Art Deco took the mechanical nature of Ford’s assembly line and transformed it into a design aesthetic. It followed that machinery, which perfectly encapsulated these ideals, became a fashion statement in and of itself.

While fast travel became fashionable, these modern modes of transportation transformed how women chose to dress their bodies. Designers like Chanel and Poiret are credited with removing the corset, shortening skirt lengths, and popularizing sportswear; these outfits were designed with the freedom of their wearer in mind. Suits made especially for driving in open-top cars on dusty roads became a necessity—further evidence of vehicles revolutionizing womenswear—as did skirts and footwear for tennis and golf. 

Even during times of economic and social downturn, particularly World War II, machinery held its place within L’OFFICIEL. Due to the regulations imposed by occupying forces in Europe and the rationing of provisions, the bicycle became a source of freedom and fashion to Parisian women. Though previously thought to have been far below luxury standards, the bicycle soon came to symbolize French resistance, and was regularly celebrated by L’OFFICIEL. 

Shortly thereafter, the airplane took off as a symbol of a privileged lifestyle. Once air travel became safer and more accessible, long-distance travel was essential to any fashionable woman’s calendar, with chic travel looks landing in the pages of L’OFFICIEL next to the latest in aerodynamic design. Fashion designers crafted couture looks specifically for air travel, mimicking the popular styles of the golden age of aviation. Advertisements and editorials saw models posing on the tarmac to promote the fashionable lifestyle of flying. And, sealing fashion’s approval of the aviation obsession, iconic couturiers across decades designed uniforms for flight attendants—most notably Chanel and Pierre Cardin for Olympic Airways; Dior and Balenciaga for Air France; and Yves Saint Laurent for Qantas. The link between fashion and machinery was inextricable.