Why Construction Matters; Or, Not Looking Like A Piece Of Your Skirt Was Shot Out Of Your Own Ass

Why Construction Matters; or, Not Looking Like a Piece of Your Skirt Was Shot Out of Your Own Ass

Clothes are made up of pieces and all of those pieces have names.  One of those pieces is a triangle, and one of those names is “godet.”  This refers, specifically, to a triangle of fabric inserted between two other pieces to provide flare.

That big triangle smack in the middle of the skirt.  That right there is a godet, providing the flare necessary for locomotion in this 1930s bias-cut dress.  At some point, I promise, I will deliver my sermon on the bias and why it is the Best Thing Ever, but that day is not today, because today we are talking about godets.  (Although let’s take a moment to admire the fastening on this dress, because that’s a classy bit of work.)

The point of the godet, as previously stated, is to provide flare, and so they show up a lot in skirts.  Correctly inserted, particularly in a bias-cut dress, they are fully capable of creating a skirt that drapes sensuously in repose, swirls seductively in motion, and is in all situations slinky as hell.

Keira Knightley in a bias-cut dress for the late ‘30s portion of Atonement, demonstrating drape, swirl, and slink.  The godet at the back of the dress is clearly visible in the last two pictures; the way the sash embellishment hangs obscures its compatriot in the front in the other two, but by the way the fabric is moving around her legs, it’s there.  

This is a godet fitted well, moving subtly with the rest of the skirt in such a way most people won’t notice its existence until a dork points it out.  Knightley also looks to be wearing ‘30s-correct (ish, at least) shapewear, including either a sort of long corselet or girdle to the upper thigh, so while the skirt clings to her legs at the front when she walks, it’s not highlighting any butt cleavage when she stands.  Basically how a modern sportsbra gives the monobosom effect, only on the butt.

Like this, okay?  Which one always put on AFTER the heels, obviously, for just this effect.  I mean, I’m not going to lie, if I had ‘30s shapewear, I’d totally wear just that with my repro heels from time to time, and if I have to explain why, you need a kind of help I can’t give you.  (In all honesty, once the corselet is attached to the stockings as she’s doing in the picture, getting in position to fasten the shoes may be a bit tricky.  This does not mean anyone who decides to parade about in vintage shapewear and heels shouldn’t cite this image as entirely historical justification for doing so.)

BUT GODETS, you insist, enough with this shapewear suspense intermission, we’re here for the godets, those fascinating triangles!

Back to godets, where they go is something that depends not only on the design of the dress, but also the specific curvature of the wearer.  With the curvature reduction provided by the corselet, the point of Knightley’s godet can come where it does without looking weird (example of “weird” to follow).  She has a flat ass, so it’s cool, is what I’m saying.  If the wearer has curvature (”booty,” in the vernacular), however, the placement of the godet gets trickier–it either needs to be higher than the greatest point of curvature (where the ass sticks out the most), in which case the fabric of the godet will start to spread out immediately rather than only when in motion, or significantly below, in which case the dress will hug the booty, then suddenly flare out.

Putting a godet up that high defeats the point, literally–you may as well use a gore, which is like a godet that’s had the pointy top bit cut off.

Gored skirt dress patterns–on the right, you can see that there are four pieces to the skirt, which are essentially triangles with the point tops cut off.  While the drape and graceful flow will still be achieved, because the bias is the coolest thing ever, some of the slink seen in godet skirts is lost.  Both Pinterest and a google image search for gored vs. godet skirts can you provide you with more examples of the loss of slinkage.  This continues regardless of era, I chose this example from the ‘30s less because of its time period and more because, as was common in the ‘30s, these are also cut on the bias.  And while the bias preserves some slinkage, it’s really a godet that gives the most.

So that’s what happens if you stick a godet up high in the skirt’s construction.  If your godet hangs low…

…as in this ‘30s-inspired example by Atelier Versace which may very well be the only thing I’ve ever liked, let alone loved, by them, where the godet’s point can be seen nearly a foot down the center seam from the base of the cape.  Which is also significantly below any butt curvature.  (Look, as weird as I feel talking about staring at celebrities’ butts, when you start looking at garment construction the body ceases to be anything but a shape that has to be fitted, so you don’t really see butts anymore, just curvature that determines where a godet should go.  This carries over to fitting garments on people, when grabbing their butts should be really awkward, but it’s more just “why is this fitting mannequin making squeaking noises, oh, it’s a person, whoops.”  I still feel weird talking about it.)  The result of this extremely low-slung godet being that the upper part of the skirt fits very snugly (again, it’s cut on the bias, and I swear a bias-cut skirt can make a flat-assed girl look bootylicious), with the skirt flaring around her legs.  Because the godet is really long and narrow, we get this great train effect, as well.  Damn, Versace.  When you get it together, by which I mean go seriously vintage, you do nice work.

And then there is the middle option.  The godet directly on the greatest point of curvature, or just below it.  And that is when you get this.

That is a disaster of a godet.  I really like the concept that the embellishment on the back gradually tapers to a point that meets the point of the godet, which then flares out the skirt.  That is a lovely concept.  This is not a lovely result.  Because of where the godet’s point lies on this particular woman’s curvature, it basically looks like she’s shooting a triangle of fabric out of her own asshole, and that is just weird on top of aesthetically displeasing.  This would be a problem even with a filmier fabric and a narrower angle, but this one is so wide that the godet flares out very suddenly, before the rest of the skirt even has a chance to catch up with it–hence the very visible Triangle of Fabric here, vs. the more subtle flow of the Atonement skirt, where the pieces all move together.  The effect is of a rather nice pencil dress that planned on hugging the wearer’s figure nearly to the knee, whose plans were foiled by a godet suddenly shot out of her ass.  

In conclusion, the bias is awesome, godets are awesome, ‘30s and ‘30s-inspired dresses using godets well are awesome, but the wrong godet on the wrong part of the ass and all is lost.  And talking about actresses’ butts on the internet is weird.