Discovering Gothic style, from Bronte to McQueen

I've never been sure where exactly I fit in on this spectrum. Though I've always aspired to be a rebel, I've unfortunately never found my cause. Not to mention skulls have always made me slightly queasy, and the only time I'd ever wear black nail polish is on Halloween. But I have always fantasized about joining the mysterious world of the Goth, or at least coming to a better understanding of it.

So when I heard about curator Valerie Steele's latest exhibition at the Museum at the Fashion Institute of Technology, called "Gothic: Dark Glamour," I put my brown-sneakered self on a train to the city for a day trip. Finally, inquisitive minds like me might have the chance to view the complex beauty of Gothic fashion in a familiarly academic setting.

Of course, I was suspicious at first that the museum would try to reduce Gothic fashion to a singular definition, but my fears were unfounded. Steele's collection does not try to pin down Gothic like a butterfly to the wall, but rather, she admits her inadequacy in dealing with the complexity of her subject. " ‘The Gothic' is a style that embraces the dark side," she said. From that vague definition, she proceeds to show us the different ways Gothic has been interpreted throughout the centuries and around the world. Fashion is the best way of measuring Gothic, Steele explained, because it is "neither dead or alive" and "exists outside the organic realm of birth, death and decay." It endures through the centuries and is an accessible representation of its time period. Thus, more than any other kind of art show, a fashion exhibit that pulls clothes from multiple eras is able to give us a useful perspective on history and the world.

Though I was expecting black, black leather and black lace as I descended into the "mise en scene," I was surprised to find that the opening piece of the exhibit is a lilac Givenchy evening gown. Beautifully draped and formed, it would not be out of place at a social charity function. It was an unexpected beginning to the exhibit, perhaps, but it fits into the Romantic vision of Gothic that is often forgotten. A crumbling castle, a pale heroine who dies feverishly of tuberculosis while her one true love starves himself in grief; this is the romantic side to Gothic that we often overlook, preferring to focus on our modern definition. The romance of mainstream fashion imagery continues throughout the collection, a memorable example of which is a Gattinoni Haute Couture dress artfully shredded to suggest a crazed heroine who ripped her dress running through the heath. My favorite dress in this style was a Derek Lam midnight-blue-velvet Grecian-inspired piece with white silk coming out at the bottom. It was regal, but still tragic, and from a purely technical standpoint, was a masterpiece in tailoring and design.

Alexander McQueen is the king of this collection, with the greatest number of pieces on display. An ancestor of the avant-garde designer was killed in the Salem witch trials, and the dress inspired by this relation is one of the most dramatic and touching pieces of his career. If you know anything about McQueen, that's saying something. Black-and-green silk taffeta compete for dominance over the dress, but both are trumped by a sinister, glass-embroidered cross. With no neckline, it is exactly the type of dress you would expect a modern Anne Boleyn to wear to her execution.

A particularly intriguing section in the exhibit was titled "The Laboratory" and featured designs from the Japanese designer Kei Kagami. The use of magnifying glasses to amplify a blue corset creates an effect that is harsh and cold, resembling something an evil doctor's assistant might wear. There are no lace gloves or dramatically draped veils; instead, Kagami's hard materials - including glass - and inflexible designs present a different, more clinical style of Gothic than the Western tradition. Kagami, rather than looking into a romanticized past, tends to take his inspiration from the frigid future. He does pull from the past, however, in his "Good Old Days, Industrial Revolution Collection," featuring a dress with a circular saw framing the mannequin's neck. His pieces are a fascinating reminder that Gothic is a universal concept that nonetheless manifests itself in different ways.

The most brilliant feature of the exhibit, though, is the wall of mirrors that covers the section titled "The Bat Cave." There aren't actually mirrors, but rather lights that change the clear glass into a reflective surface about once each minute. The clothes behind the glass are the most predictable in the exhibit and correspond to our familiar vision of Gothic: black leather, black lace and the designer NAOTO's ensemble in which a mannequin clutches an angry doll with Xs for eyes. The striking part of this display, however, is what happens when the clothes disappear.

I was surprised by how many of the visitors shied away from the wall. "I don't like this, where are the clothes?" a worried girl asked, looking at her pale reflection, underneath which placards described dresses that weren't there. It was very disconcerting to be contemplating the darkness of the exhibit, only to have the lights change and suddenly see yourself as part of it. I said to myself, "That Gothic Lolita dress? That's you, sweetie." I imagined that many of the exhibit's attendees would love nothing more than to pose in front of the mirror, checking their hair and makeup. But at FIT, no one lingered, even in front of the panel that gave me proportions more flattering than the mannequins'.

For those of us who considered themselves miles apart from anything Gothic, seeing our own reflections fit so well into the exhibit becomes the most provocative part of the collection. It forces us to admit, to ourselves and to the world, that "Nelly, I am Heathcliff."