Girl in Dior by Annie Goetzinger
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I’ve been treating myself recently to a wallow in the things I love. (As everyone should do, no?). One of these has been reading about mid-century fashion and France; I am a Francophile and there is nothing better than nibbling the edge from a freshly baked baguette or sinking your teeth into the curved edge of a palmier. I have other loves, not just food related, but they are the most potent right now. Madeleines. You know.
So, to Paris and to the fashion that forms the spine of this city. The rather excellent and well-told Les Parisiennes: How the Women of Paris Lived, Loved, and Died Under Nazi Occupation was my first stop on this journey and Girl In Dior was the second. This slim, slender graphic novel interweaves a fictional journey of a girl into the House of Dior alongside facts and moments from Dior’s life. It’s an undoubtedly slender story and one that bears much tribute to a fairy tale aesthetic. And there are moments in the world where such an aesthetic is undoubtedly welcome.
Don’t come to this for narrative; rather, come to this for a rather wonderful twist on fashion history with art that sings of a love for the subject. Goetzinger’s use of line; the quavery lightness of gazue and her use of colour; the unfurled bolt of brightly coloured material, laid starkly against a bright white page, are wonderful things. Girl In Dior is something rather wonderful and poetic and aching and softly told and I really rather loved it. Maybe it’s the nipped waists, or those full skirts, or the exuberant “New Look!” cry; or maybe it’s because I rather love these books that seek to tell the human edge of story. The moments of Dior in his country house, designing; there’s not enough of them, because they are poignant, heartfelt, and suddenly, intensely brilliant.
I want more from this boook because there’s not enough of it and I suspect that’s its main problem. A lot happens, swiftly; there’s not enough time to savour it, nor to develop rationale nor character, but then – does such a book need this? I’m not sure I can answer that here. What I can say is that what this book gives, it gives with utter and absolute joy.
Daisy May Johnson 