Johnny Cash once sang, “I we
ar the black for the poor and the beaten down / Livin’ in the hopeless, hungry side of town…” I love Johnny Cash, but that’s not why I wear black. I don’t wear black because I’m depressed either. Or to look thin. Or to look mysterious.
I wear black because when I’m wrapped in it, I feel authentic. I love its inky mystery, its subtlety, its rebellion contrasted with its chaste darkness, its timelessness. When I wear black, I feel energized, perhaps because this non-colour absorbs all light in the colour spectrum. It’s all there.
In Western culture, black has an undeserved bad name as the colour of mourning, melancholy and evil. But in ancient Egypt, black represented life and rebirth in homage to the black soil of the Nile valley. In parts of Africa, black is associated with rain clouds, a symbol of prosperity and life. The medieval Cathars saw black as a colour of perfection. So did Renoir who said, “I’ve been 40 years discovering that the queen of all colours was black.” Viva le noir.
Oh, I’ve tried to wean myself away from black, mostly under duress. Back in the 80s, when colour profiling was in, I was diagnosed as a “spring” and condemned to wear vapid pastels. I felt like an imposter. I felt like a flower. No wonder I began to sneak black into my wardrobe again. Carbon. Onyx. Charcoal. Smoke. Ebony.
My mother couldn’t believe it. “Black, black, black,” she mourned. “What is it about you and black?” She tried to convert me. She bought me coloured patterns and coloured stripes and lots of clothes in peach, but all I wanted was black (and maybe a little bit of purple or pink for good measure). I wasn’t morbid. I wasn’t a depressed teenager sucking the light out of rooms. I just wanted to wear my own colour.
First, black is easy. It goes with anything, although you have to be careful because one black doesn’t always go with another. There are many shades.
Second, black is
always in fashion. Think of Chanel’s Little Black Dress (LBD), introduced in 1926 as the go-anywhere, do-anything dress at a time when her arch rival Paul Poiret was touting colour. Ninety years later, the LBD is still a fashion must. Interestingly, Chanel was raised by nuns and it has been speculated that being surrounded by women in black may have influenced her designs.
Finally, black is a statement about what is essential. It has a purity to it. You can wear it plain or wear it with frills but it never looks frivolous.
“[It’s] the most popular and the most convenient and the most elegant of all colours,” said fashion designer Christian Dior. “And I say colour on purpose, because black may be sometimes just as striking as a colour. You can wear black at any time. You can wear it at any age. You may wear it for almost any occasion.”
I do plan to keep 
wearing black as I get older, despite warnings from stylistas that black is aging. I don’t care. I’m not interested in being one of those women who become more peacock-like as they age, wearing brighter and brighter colours to avoid becoming invisible. I admire women like Georgia O’Keefe who donned black because it was simple. As an old woman, she stalked the New Mexican desert like a shadow.
I know, critics of black clothing will talk about hidden depression, a macabre nature, a dark outlook, but I’m not sure those labels apply to me — at least half of the time. I do, however, admit to being somewhat of a closet goth. But I’m enough of a fashion lover to understand the value of pairing black with chunky silver jewelry, colourful pashminas and vibrant fuchsia camisoles. I have no designs on being nunlike.
I do think some black is tacky. Fake leather in black looks, well, fake. Many polyesters in black look downright cheap. So I choose my black carefully, and as I go out into the world in my black boots, black coat and black skirt, I can still hear my mother chiding me, “You look like you are going to a funeral.” But, as Baudelaire said, “We are all attending one funeral or another.”
Photo Credit
Feature photo: “She opens magic world – B5” h.koppedelaney @ flickr. Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.
“The Black Hat” by Lilla Cabot Perry
“Woman in a Black Hat” by Georges de Feure,
“Coco Chanel” Photographer unknown
Previously published in all or part by blackdotdiary.com, November 16, 2009.
When I was getting ready to move to South Dakota to go to school, my aunt took me shopping, and bought me clothes. She told me of the “little black dress” that every woman should have, I’d never heard of it before. She bought me one, and it’s fabulous, sleek, sexy and perfect for any occasion!
Great post Kerry!!
Thanks Mary!
Just surfing and I saw this article. Dad used to say to me as a teenager “what are you, some Portuguese grandmother in mourning?”, when he started to notice that I had taken a turn to the dark side…yes, I was an angst-ridden, Cure/Joy Division/ Smiths -worshipping depressed teen, but at the same time, I felt strong and sexy and beautiful in my black. It isn’t everyone that can wear it and look GOOD! Even as an adult, it is my favourite non-colour, and though summer heat and humidity make me imagine I am in the tropics somewhere, and therefore feel compelled to “lighten up” in floaty marine blue batik inspired dresses, I still always return to my comfort zone:the little black dress! You can never have too many!!
Thanks for writing in Jill-Anne. And yes, what would life be without the Little Black Dress?
Hear hear! I’m sitting here in a black cashmere cardigan with my jeans – it’s kind of a uniform, jeans and a black top of one kind or another. It’s … just … me.
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Wonderfully expressed Kerry! Black is the New Black. As it happens just last Saturday, in my recovering from an illness haze, I spotted a sweet little black dress in the window. Tried it on and immediately felt better.
Hey,
Good article. However, I wouldn’t consider Beaudelaire to be big on fashion. I wear black because it doesn’t show the dirt too quickly.
I think your a flower.
My excuse for wearing so much black has always been cost. Black goes with everything. Why spend money on a piece that I can only wear with a certain pair of pants or shoes? When you’re working with a small wardrobe, best to keep it simple.
Anyone who loves fashion knows that there is nothing more dramatic than black, accessorized so easily, in turn so simple to make one’s own personal style statement. As a senior now, I too have had times when I thought it would be more appropriate to wear something bright and I have tried. Alas, I didn’t feel comfortable with it but I always always feel good in black, especially when accessorized with cream and rich soil colours.
I’m always drawn to black clothing and I’ve been known to make a special point of buying colors because of some vague notion that I need to diversify. Obviously I need to re-think that!
I, too, am a huge fan of black clothing. Whenever I buy a new top or pair of pants, my friends bug me for not being more adventurous, but it’s not a fear of colour that keeps in the black. It’s because of everything you mentioned above. It looks better to me than just about anything else.
Beautiful Kerry!!
As we’ve recently discovered our kinship, from one “closet goth” to another…i would lovingly add, that the joy we experience from robing ourselves in black simply balances the abundance of light dwelling within our hearts:)
much bliss
~kylen
Thanks Kylen, you so completely get it. People used to tell me wearing black was a shield or a sign of low self-esteem but I never thought of it that way. I love the way you put it.