Fashioning San Francisco: A Century of Style, opening Jan. 20 at the de Young Museum, is an extensive collection of impressive craftsmanship. It’s also a peek into the closets of some of the wealthiest San Franciscans of the past century, broken up into a strange amalgam of themes. Rows of mannequins are draped in gowns that this-and-that socialite wore to this-and-that high society function, which makes for an awkward transition into the exhibit’s finale: cultural appropriation.
Throughout the exhibition, faux balconies and elevated platforms set the stage for silk chiffon, taffeta and meticulous hand-sewing by haute couture legends like Jean Paul Gaultier, Coco Chanel and Rei Kawakubo. Wealthy San Franciscan women wore these masterpieces to local balls and Parisian soirées — and they’re breathtaking.
The exhibit positions the philanthropy of people like those socialites as “vital to the lived experiences of San Franciscans since the city’s inception,” without much of a critical eye on the role of the powerful in the city’s ongoing social and racial inequality. It’s a lopsided framework that makes the exhibit’s final section abrupt, and its larger message incoherent.
In the farthest corner of the exhibit, mandarin collars and African-inspired beadwork by white designers invite museum guests to reflect on cultural appropriation in a section called “Global Aesthetic Influences” — a cautious title that whispers, “I’ve been focus-grouped.”
“The collection reflects the centuries-long practice of cultural appropriation and commodification in fashion and the arts broadly,” reads the text panel. The reflection feels sudden, given hardly any other mention of power dynamics or racism throughout the halls of haute couture leading up to this point.
The description for one lambs’ wool number by Karl Lagerfeld — a notorious bigot still worshiped by fashion elite — doesn’t specify which culture he’s appropriating, or offer further insight from museum curators as to why they included it here. It’s kind of like the de Young grabbed all the vaguely or explicitly ethnic clothes that might get them into trouble and put them in a room together. And their answer to that — a hard and fast insertion of nuance that isn’t woven through any other part of the collection — feels insufficient.
Elsewhere, the collection breaks down into other themed sections, including the period right after the 1906 earthquake that sent San Francisco into a tailspin — but apparently sent the city’s elite into French-imported silks and lace. The exhibition describes how affluent San Franciscans used fashion to reclaim their identities after the disaster, which isn’t a hugely compelling narrative when we remember that the city’s relief funds highly favored the rich and powerful, whom activists accused of spending the money on lavish cars.
There’s also a “Little Black Dress” collection that reflects on how wartime shortages necessitated a wardrobe staple that met the “needs and budgets of women across the social class spectrum.” But the only spectrum featured is from Chanel to Valentino.
Deeper into the exhibit is a larger hall of gowns called “After the Ball,” which looks like a snapshot of the Met Gala. Highlights there include a floor-length white polka-dot dress by San Francisco-born designer Richard Tam, whose evening wear was featured in Vogue in the ’60s.
There’s a lavish Oscar de la Renta dress sprawling with brown ruffles worn by San Francisco socialite Dede Wilsey, a longtime supporter of the de Young and former board president of the Fine Arts Museums, whose father was an ambassador to Luxembourg and Austria. (Wilsey also paid $1,000 for each of her dogs’ names to be included on a donor wall of the museum, if that gives you an idea of the kind of old money we’re talking about.)
Amid the pomp and circumstance — which can get a bit boring and very frivolous — there are gems like dresses worn by Leola King, an icon of the Fillmore’s storied jazz and blues scene, and some daring looks by avant garde Asian designers like Junya Watanabe, Vivienne Tam and the Bay Area’s own Kaisik Wong. There’s also a pair of colorful patchwork boots from the ’70s by an unknown designer that are pretty fabulous.
Before visitors ascend a flight of grand museum stairs to the main event, a trio of augmented reality mirrors courtesy of Snapchat invites museumgoers to try on Valentino and Kaisik Wong in real time — cool in theory, gimmicky in practice.
If you’re looking for a nuanced, comprehensive collection of San Francisco clothing that reflects the city’s history in all its classes and creeds, this isn’t that. But if you’re curious how the richest of the rich dressed for a ball at Versailles or a gala at the San Francisco Opera, then this is the exhibit for you.
‘Fashioning San Francisco: A Century of Style’ opens at the de Young Museum on Jan. 20 and continues through Aug. 11, 2024. Details and tickets here.