The connection between high fashion and the Catholic Church isn’t obvious at first, but, for centuries, the Church has quietly elevated ceremonial garb into an art form.
It isn’t much of a conceptual leap if you consider the look of even an average Catholic church. A considerable amount of attention is obviously given to the building’s exterior and interior details and beautification.
Ceremonial vestments are no different.
Pauline Johnstone writes in her introduction to High Fashion in the Church,
“The decoration of church vestments has always been a matter of high fashion…The cut and function of the vestments can be traced in an unbroken line from the everyday clothes of the first Christians in the late classical period…During the Middle Ages a strongly held conviction developed that nothing less than the finest material, craftsmanship and artistry should be employed…in connection with the celebration of Mass.”
Included in the book is a photographic glossary of ceremonial fashion terms like
Chasuble - a short, sleeveless liturgical garment
—think, luxury poncho
France, 1891
Germany, mid-18th century
Cope - a long mantle, usually of silk
c. 1884
close-up of details on a cope, Vienna
dalmatic - a loose, over-tunic that’s goes over an under layer of clothes, such as the alb, or
“an ankle-length linen garment worn by all who serve at the altar.” pg 7
both c. 12th century, Italian, silk
*[This brought to mind the tea gowns worn by bourgeois French women in late 19th/early 20th century. It had an open front robe over a main, under dress. It was meant to be loose and comfortable yet decorative and fit for entertaining guests. It wasn’t usually worn with a corset either—gasp.]
and mitre - a headdress
French, c. 1380-90
Pope Leo XIV wearing a mitre
High-ranking church officials wear headdresses to signify authority.
a modesty headdress, ca. early 19th century Russia
In the past, Russian noblewoman wore similar headdresses (in and outdoors ) to maintain modesty.
Johnstone also details the technical development of liturgical garments and the artistic movements of each time period that informed their designs, from the Middle Ages, Renaissance, the Baroque and Rococo periods, up until the 19th century and beyond.
Under one picture of the interior of a baroque church, Johnstone notes:
“The vestments of the eighteenth century were intended to be seen in a setting such as this, complementing the white and gold interiors and sparkling pastel colors of the new churches with their own gold ornament and brilliant floral patterns.”
Author Romy Cockx’s book, Fashion and Interiors: A Gendered Affair, makes this same connection between clothing and interior design. In particular, she writes about how women in the West have historically been expected to be the beautifiers of the home and of the self.
It becomes possible to consider a cathedral as—for a lack of a better term—the domestic realm of clergymen. Similar to how women are (by default/culturally) expected to adorn their bodies and surroundings, these religious leaders could be thought of as authorities of style and taste, for the Church.
And in the same way a lady of a house invites guests into her home and ensures she’s as beautiful as her surroundings, so does the clergyman…for his congregation.
Nothing less than the finest material, craftsmanship and artistry should be employed in the making of his vestments.
High fashion is exclusive, custom-fitted, and made using the highest quality fabrics. In this sense, fashion has a way of sticking in my mind as one static concept involving runways and magazines, rather than as a high standard of aesthetics and practices.
But high fashion isn’t only found on the runways or in the shops of New York, Paris, and Milan.
It can also be found in the most unexpected places.
Even under the steeple of a church.