In this week's blog, Costume Society Ambassador Francine McMahon reviews fashion historian and curator Kate Strasdin's new book, 'The Dress Diary of Mrs Anne Sykes'. Following a journey from Victorian Lancashire across the globe, in reading the book we follow the research process that ensued as a result of one woman's textile scrapbook ending up in Kate's care.
From the first page of the preface of Kate Strasdin’s new book ‘The Dress Diary of Mrs Anne Sykes’, published in February 2023 to much excitement from dress and textile enthusiasts, I was immediately affirmed in my love for history. This feeling – the excitement, emotions and intrigue - that come with uncovering the stories embedded in objects, places and people continues throughout my experience of reading the book. Strasdin does an exceptional job of relaying these feelings from her own historical enquiries onto the pages; it may seem silly, as a non-fiction book with a seemingly innocuous focus, but in reviewing it I almost feel inclined to avoid ‘spoilers’, as is the strength of skill in Strasdin’s writing at bringing us on this journey of discovery with her.
Despite, as the title makes evident, the book focusing on one Victorian character – Mrs Anne Sykes, in a sense while reading you follow the stories of two main women; Anne Sykes herself, and the story of Kate Strasdin’s research process as she uncovers Anne’s story. Both of these stories converge around one key item, Anne’s diary, in which swatches of textiles are documented, starting after her marriage in her early 20s. Using these textiles and captions, Strasdin follows Anne, tracing her movements and her acquaintances, with the help of historical records and knowledge of the lives of women of Anne’s standing. Fantastically; what starts as a collection of fragments of textiles – not even whole garments – becomes a full life.
However, Strasdin’s book does not just stop at Anne’s personal history; her story becomes a jumping point to unpack the histories of places, people, and technology that all intersect around the making and wearing of clothing. While I would say my primary takeaway from the book is the strengthening of my (already deep) fascination with the way in which objects can carry and unravel such rich histories that are interesting even in isolation, Strasdin’s writing also demonstrates a further value of historical research. In intersecting Anne’s story with those of the people she crosses paths with, as identified by their contributions of textiles to her diary, Strasdin weaves in wider histories that provide context for the presence of certain textiles, acquaintances or locations in Anne’s diary, but also a wider understanding of the Victorian-era world. Stories of balls, homemaking, major life events, the activities of the characters’ daily lives and, pivotally, the clothes that would be worn for each of these, are detailed alongside the wider context in which they existed. As Strasdin discovers, Anne’s life starts in Lancashire, with both her immediate family and later her husband gaining success in the booming textile industry. On a personal note, looking out of my window in Manchester, or ‘Cottonopolis’ as it was then coined and of which Anne would have been familiar, from the earliest chapters of the book I am reminded of the threads of history (pardon the pun) that run from the lives of people like Anne to our own. This applies throughout the book, from industrial advancements to developments of the retail experience.
This understanding spreads further afield; Strasdin uses Anne’s story to highlight issues at play both in the nineteenth century as today. The arrival of cotton at mills in Lancashire from across the Atlantic, which provide wealth for Anne’s family, open up the stories of those exploited in order for these fibres to physically end up in the pages of her diary. Here it is clear that Strasdin uses a considered approach to documenting a history of both a privileged woman, and the industrial textile industry that has set foundations for the one we are familiar with today; an approach evident throughout the book. When I am looking out of the window to the once pioneering Lancashire cotton mills, synonymous with exploitation and violence both within their walls and across to the cotton plantations, I am also looking out to a city now overrun with the head offices of many of the most prevalent fast fashion retailers. Strasdin does well to remind us that the exploitation and unethical labour practices that provided the source of Anne’s amusement in collecting textile samples are still issues plaguing our present day society. There is no illusion that this book merely traces the pretty prints worn by one privileged woman.
This interjection of broader and sometimes darker histories running alongside Anne’s does not come without being able to share in the joy of these wonderful textiles. While the book does not have frequent images of these, Strasdin’s vivid descriptions of not only the textiles themselves but the ways and settings in which they would be worn or used are so transportive, it does not leave as much to be desired by way of imagery as you might expect. Unexpectedly, perhaps, the element of surprise is present even through the textiles documented by Anne as much as the stories that come from them. I would consider myself relatively familiar with textiles and prints typical of the period, but even I was fascinated at Strasdin’s detailing of an 1842 leopard print waxed cotton, captioned as being used for Anne’s furniture. Leopard print, that I would associate as having emerged in popular use in the mid-20th century, used in interiors two centuries earlier! Further evidence that the personal objects of one, seemingly ordinary for her standing, woman can bring so much to our own picture of the past (a theme throughout the book, as you might sense).
As mentioned, the book is predominantly in prose and features relatively few images. However, the ones that are present bring much to the party; illustrations and fashion plates from the era dotted throughout are a welcome visual reference of how Anne and others featured in her diary may have worn the textiles as part of a garment. Most importantly, though, are the excerpts from Anne’s actual diary. Beautiful fragments of patterned, printed, and dyed fabrics (leopard print included!), ribbons, lace, and trims, fill several pages, alongside their neatly handwritten captions. While, for me, Strasdin’s writing alone is enough to satisfy my dress history interests – as well as the associated social and geographical ones that are layered with that – of course the value of seeing parts of the diary that opened up all these lines of enquiry cannot be understated. The fragments are stunning, and vivid; beautiful to look at in isolation, but again enhancing that ever-present understanding that something as simple as a square of cotton has so much potential as a resource for research.
Despite all the knowledge we have gained as a result of Anne’s diary finding itself in Strasdin’s hands, there is also so much we can never know. Throughout the book, alongside the concrete findings, are queries about the intricacies of their thoughts, emotions, and activities. How close the relationships between Anne and those mentioned in her diary, whether they genuinely liked or politely accepted the fabrics and garments gifted to them, all these personal thoughts and more that are just beyond our reach, not recorded in marriage records or newspaper cuttings. In many ways, this adds to the intrigue maintained throughout the book. We know Anne so well, having been able to trace her life (and wardrobe) from these fragments of cloth, and yet we also come out knowing so little about her personality. Ultimately though, this remains a value, not a disappointment – these questions that are raised providing a constant reminder of the individual people, with all their thoughts and feelings, mundane habits and routines, excitements and tragedies, attached to every historical artefact. This appears to me as a fascination, more than a frustration, at least as I read it. ‘The Dress Diary of Mrs Anne Sykes’ may start with snippets of fabric collected by just one Lancashire woman, but it certainly does not end there. This is a journey Kate Strasdin takes us on with her; the precision, openness, and curiousity, with which she does so filling me with positive affirmation of my fascination with history (and love of prints!). The author captures it best herself: ‘Anne’s story is both remarkable and ordinary’.
This week, the Costume Society hosted an exclusive book launch event for members, in which Kate Strasdin spoke about 'The Dress Diary of Anne Sykes'. Become a member to gain access to future events.
'The Dress Diary of Anne Sykes' was published in February 2023, and is available to buy now.
