Erdem Spring 2018

The affection for Her Majesty the Queen among her British subjects knows no bounds. Nearly 65 years after ascending the throne in 1953, she’s had quite a year. At the age of 91, she has visited children who were terribly injured in the Manchester suicide bombing and the residents and families of the people of many cultures who died in the Grenfell Tower disaster in London. Now, curiosity about Elizabeth II as a human being—rather than a stiff royal cipher—is at an all-time high. Nothing illustrates that better than the Golden Globes–sweeping success of Netflix’s epic The Crown. Claire Foy plays Elizabeth from the time of her coronation (at the age of 25) on. This summer, Erdem Moralıoğlu found his own extraordinary path into expressing his admiration for the queen while researching her clothes at Windsor Castle (no less). He conducted his research under the guidance of Caroline de Guitaut, the senior curator of decorative arts of the Royal Collection. There, he made a discovery which blew his mind, kindling a theme for a beautiful collection based on the 1950s that touched on a personal connection to Black-American culture in the young queen’s life. “It felt kind of important at a weird time like this,” said the designer. “The exchange between two worlds felt really beautiful.”

Erdem had discovered that Elizabeth enjoyed jazz and dancing when she was young, and that she had met Duke Ellington in 1958 at a royal command performance. “It was at a theater in Leeds,” he said, pointing out a photo of the queen—wearing a tiara, a cream brocade Norman Hartnell evening gown, and white opera gloves—meeting the duke of jazz in a reception line. Ellington was so taken, he composed a piece for her called “Queen’s Suite.” “She had one record of it and he the other, which got lost in the Smithsonian until 2012. It’s sort of a piece of love poetry, really,” Erdem reflected. “She wrote him a note where she said, ‘I’ll be listening.’”
After absorbing that information, he made the leap to Harlem in the 1950s, designing into the fantasy that the young royal might have visited the Cotton Club to watch Dorothy Dandridge, Billie Holiday, and Ella Fitzgerald perform. It made for quite gorgeous fashion, a context in which to show diverse beauty and an evocative set furnished as a glamorous Harlem Renaissance–era jazz club.
There were brocade coats—fitted in front, with Watteau swinging in back—and variations on prim checked tailored coats. Ribbons inspired by royal decorations became fastenings on bustier dresses or shoulder-bows. Pearl and gold embroideries of leeks and flowers imitated the symbols Hartnell planted in the queen’s coronation gown. The sinuous ’30s- and ’40s-chic dresses of the Cotton Club’s great singers contrasted with balloon-skirted ballgowns (an emerging trend of the season, there). Will the queen be amused? She should be. It was a sincere tribute to a woman who has lived a life dedicated to duty and bringing people together. And it’s nice to know she’s had some fun along the way.