Wuthering Heights is a film about, among other things, corsets. Critics have aptly dubbed director Emerald Fennell’s latest divisive hit a “bodice ripper.” This somewhat backhanded designation is typically bestowed on heady romances set in centuries past that offer passionate melodramas featuring breathless desire and tight-laced dresses. On separate occasions during the film’s press tour, Margot Robbie, who plays the story’s antiheroine, Catherine Earnshaw, and Charli XCX, who provided the bulk of the soundtrack, echoed the genre’s fashion motif in corseted ensembles — one vintage, the other new, but both by none other than Vivienne Westwood.
There is no conversation about corsets in modern fashion that does not involve Dame Westwood. The wardrobe staple largely fell out of favor after the 19th century, but the designer revived it in 1987, making it the cornerstone of her contributions to 20th-century fashion. Corseted pieces remain central to her brand’s output today, making consistent high-profile red-carpet and bridal appearances (Charli XCX also wore custom Westwood for her nuptials), but vintage examples exercise a definite allure. The rare Fall 1996 couture taffeta top and skirt offered on 1stDibs by One of a Kind Archive embodies the potent, historical theatricality that seduced Westwood, Fennell and countless others before them.
The film’s costumes have been widely criticized for being gratuitously decadent and incorrect for the late-18th-century setting of the story. This gown, too, although modeled after historical examples, does not concern itself with period accuracy.
The fabric of the bodice is gathered into a bow at one shoulder, forming a rippled surface, and dips into a curved basque waist. The trained skirt is a sweeping mass of wine-red taffeta, with a full train that ties elegantly into a bow at the back.
It is here that the ensemble begins to diverge from the era that inspired it. The bodice and skirt are separate pieces (not at all uncommon for antique gowns), but Westwood deliberately left a cutout of exposed skin on the lower back. This subtle act of rebellion would surely have caused a scandal in the 18th century, but it was perfectly at home in the late 20th.
Westwood also notably breaks from tradition with the fastening of the bodice. Some of her corsets in the 1980s used the customary laces, woven through eyelets to allow the piece to be tightened for maximum shaping. She largely preferred the zipper, however, and made no attempt to conceal this modernization. Here, Westwood chose vivid scarlet zipper tape with matching teeth to run down the bodice’s spine. This update offers ease to the wearer while subverting the garment’s conventional restrictive nature.
Historically, corsets were hidden foundational undergarments, with evidence of use going back to ancient Crete. The 16th-century precursor to the modern corseted bodice — known as a “pair of bodies,” as it comprised two main pieces — used reeds or whale bone (“boning”) for its stiffened structure. It created an idealized female silhouette yet was kept out of sight. This tension led to a romanticization that slowly brought the piece into the light as a tantalizing symbol of sexuality. Westwood went leaps further, making it the gleaming focal point of countless ensembles and daring society to look at it more directly than ever before. In Westwood’s hands, this instrument of bodily control became one of liberating empowerment.
Thus, a historical classic was thrust into the modern age. Even in Fennell’s fantastical world of surreal interiors, sparkling jewels and Charli XCX’s crooning over misty moors, a corseted Westwood gown would have main-character energy.
