The Crown may have its critics but... they got the Fashion SPOTON
LIZ JONES’S VERDICT ON THE DRESSES
HAVING consumed all ten episodes of season four of The Crown, I’m left with a feeling not unlike flu from an overdose of frou-frou. Not to mention a sincere wish to hide behind the sofa, as I’m reminded of all those 1980s horrors that I, like Diana, once proudly wore.
The tank tops, the Patricia Roberts patchwork sweaters, the Laura Ashley pie-crust blouses and polka dots. Not to mention the sea of mid- calf skirts, dropped waists, puff sleeves and, horror of horrors, shoulder pads, often all piled together in a single garment.
For while the latest season of The Crown has fallen short on storylines, with critics saying its scripts tend much more towards fiction than fact, the one thing it has got right – mostly – is the costumes.
Headed by Emmy Award-winning designer Amy Roberts, the costume department spent hours poring over photos of the royals in order to replicate their outfits meticulously. And, boy, does it show. The result is a triumph, and for none more so than that most photographed royal, Diana.
So accomplished is their work it seems they may even have performed the impossible of making 1980s fashion desirable again, if the surge in searches on eBay is anything to go by.
Admittedly, Emma Corrin, playing Diana, is neither busty enough in those engagement photos, nor tall and willowy enough to match the princess’s 5ft 10in stature. But what is laser-accurate is the metamorphosis we see in Diana’s posture. She literally unfurls on screen, no longer stooping because of her height but stands tall and proud.
When it comes to Diana’s costumes, the only criticism seems to be that there aren’t more of them, with some iconic outfits conspicuously absent. Take, for example, the black, strapless, perilously low-cut gown Diana wore for her first official evening engagement with Charles, at Goldsmiths’ Hall in London.
Elizabeth Emanuel, who designed that dress, as well as Diana’s wedding gown, called me, breathless, after she too binged all ten episodes.
‘That dress was a transformative moment, as she was seen for the first time as a superstar, a glamorous princess in the making who was to become a fashion icon. We should have seen it!’ she cried.
Another omission is the Victor Edelstein dress Diana wore to dance with John Travolta at the White House in 1985. It was an important moment WHILE when Diana found her feet – and worldwide fame.
I’m filled with admiration for The Crown’s costume team, I can’t help but wonder if their portrayal of Diana’s fashion was – like her famous asymmetric gowns – ever so slightly one- sided, portraying her as a hopeless ingenue, shoehorned into hideous g a r ments as wel l as a ghastly marriage?
Diana was certainly no mouse, no matter how many pairs of yellow dungarees she may have worn in her early days.
I’ve spoken to many designers who dressed her over the years. They found her opinionated, a little vain, someone who knew the power of her own body – and, because of the scrutiny she faced, ruthless in the pursuit of the perfect image.
But in the Netflix series, Diana’s wardrobe choices seem careless. There are no scenes of dress fittings, no agonising over pages torn from Vogue with Anna Harvey, the fashion editor assigned to give advice.
David Sassoon, one half of British label Bellville Sassoon, another of her favourites, recalled: ‘She would ask, as she twisted in front of a mirror, “What message am I giving off?”’
Having seen The Crown’s take on Di’s earlier days, I can’t wait for the treats in season five. We can look forward to Diana – played by Elizabeth Debicki, The Night Manager’s sinewy blonde – discovering not just meaning in her life but the bodycon dress.
The teeny, spangled column by Catherine Walker she wore for the sale of her outdated wardrobe at Christie’s. The chinos she wore in Angola. The black swimsuit, worn on board Dodi’s yacht.
I hope The Crown’s wardrobe department are busy stitching that off-the- shoulder black ‘ revenge dress’ ( by Christina Stambolian) she wore to the Serpentine Gallery on the night Charles confessed his infidelity on TV. Ding dong!
Beyond the designer frocks, I want happiness, however brief. I want to see Diana in that frankly awful leather jacket, in a water slide at an amusement park, her boys in her arms, laughing and laughing.
COM-PLEAT STYLE
Here is Diana before she found her fashion feet, and before Catherine Walker saw sense. A powder blue ensemble, with matching skull cap by John Boyd. Could anything more be piled on? Puff sleeves. Concertina pleats. A bow. A collar. A pearl choker. It’s l oud and f r umpy. Emma’s version is near identical, although the gold watch is wrong.