Brilliant, graceful, inspired, and esthetic. These were some of the words that sprang to mind when, last week, I visited “Jacqueline Kennedy: The White House Years,” an exhibition now on view at the Kennedy Library and Museum in Boston.
For fear these words in response to Jackie Kennedy’s clothes seem merely conventional, you should know that normally I hardly notice what people wear. Nor would my credentials as a fashion critic impress anyone.
In fact, my ignorance of clothing, for both women and men, extends far and wide. Without tutoring, I do not even know the difference between an A line and a cockade. It’s excusable: for many years as a young man, I wore the same costume every day, a somber unadorned black cassock.
Fortunately, my sister – a highly qualified tutor – agreed to accompany me to the exhibition. There I found the clothes featured by Mrs. Kennedy during her time in the White House to be objects of beauty. They showed her to be indeed, as the museum material says, “a woman of commanding personal style and one who had an unerring sense of history and her place in it.”
Approaching the exhibition, I felt uncertain whether Jackie’s clothes, now some forty years old, would equal the memories that people of my age have of them. We remember the way that she dazzled America, along with the leaders and citizens of many other nations, with her style and flair.
She embodied what my niece Jennifer Griffin has identified as “Bouviessence.” In her book, co-authored with Kera Bolonik and entitled “Frugal Indulgents,” Jennifer memorably coined the term Bouviessence explaining it thus: “In honor of the queen of grace, this word signifies glamour at all times for all occasions.”
What impressed me most about the array of dresses, gowns, and hats worn by Jackie is their variety. The exhibition displays, on mannequins carefully crafted to look like her, a brilliant array of colors, both striking and subtle. She wore bright yellow at a state dinner, for instance, as well as an ascetic black for her visit to Pope John XXIII.
And the variety of styles struck me also. They range all the way from wool suits that served for less formal occasions to a green evening gown designed by Oleg Cassini and described in the exhibit as a “liquid columnar dress that also suggested an ancient statuary.” And, as my sister observed, “she looked fabulous in all of them.”
Jackie’s clothes remain in remarkably good condition after the passage of four decades. However, the gown she wore at the Inaugural Ball on January 19, 1961 shows signs of deterioration, enough that this will be the last time it is shown publicly. The colors of the other clothes have held fast and still give viewers a strong sense of the impression they made on those who saw them on Jackie herself.
Surprisingly, Jackie’s clothing did not excite much negative criticism at the time. Instead of badmouthing her expensive tastes, most Americans apparently felt gratified by their first lady showing such style. By and large they liked having in the White House a woman who knew how to be beautiful, poised, and intelligent all at once.
These words may seem gee-whiz, the product of a publicity agent. However, the exhibition stirred in me, as it will in many others, warm memories of a person who went beyond mere style. She did in fact serve this country extraordinarily well, for instance as an effective good-will ambassador to other nations.
When Jackie visited India in March, 1962, the U.S. ambassador, John Kenneth Galbraith sent an “Eyes Only” message to the President. “Your wife’s speeches model of brevity and syntax and urge copies be put in briefing kit of all new senators,” wrote the ambassador with typical wit.
The dignity she habitually displayed inclined people everywhere to respect America. In November 1963, at a time of crushing loss, both personal to her and also to the nation and world, that same dignity ensured her a lasting place in our shared history.
By themselves, clothes do not make the woman but my own consciousness has been raised by seeing how Jackie dressed. The ugliness of garb and general appearance of so many among the rest of us now strikes me forcibly. It’s not a matter of poverty, as a rule, but of imagination.
Most of us could look a lot better than we do and that might help us to feel a good deal better about ourselves, no matter our age. The specter of retirees, both male and female, wearing short shorts that I have seen in Florida churches makes me shudder at how tastelessly many of us dress.
The exhibition runs through February 28, 2002. I take no pleasure in reporting the cost of tickets: 15 dollars for adults, 13 dollars for “seniors” and students, and 8 dollars for children ages 13 – 17. These prices strike me as high but they do include admission to the permanent collection of the museum. You can call (617) 695-2JFK for reservations.
Richard Griffin