Costume Quibbles: Downton Abbey, Season 1, Episode 3

I'm the Hazelnut Electographer, and this is Costume Quibbling. (just imagine me saying that in Laura Linney's voice).

We open on a nice spring day, as evidenced by new leaves on the trees, birdsong, and wheelbarrows. And NinjaBates, swinging down to the village for purposes unknown. He receives a broadsheet of some kind and bumps into Gwen, Anna's roommate. She's mailing something she'd rather mail herself, thank you. Bates shows admirable discretion, but not plucky NinjAnna! Back at the big house, she demands to know what's in the "bleeding great packing case that weighs a ton" in their room, but we don't get to know, because we cut to Cora walking up to Mary, who's reading a letter out on the garden bench dressed in blue (a signature color, remember) with a nice hat. She's really pretty dressed up for sitting in her own backyard. I'm impressed. Sometimes I don't wear pants in my backyard. But it's probably too chilly in Yorkshire in the spring to do that. Anyway, the letter's from Evelyn Napier, who wants to drop in after a local hunt. We ought to know what happens next, because guess what Cora's wearing under that big baggy coat? The Entail Dress! So she'll get up to something. And she does: she gets Mary to invite Evelyn to stay with them for the hunt. They snark at each other for a few minutes, and then we cut to a Servant Scene.

Servant Scene. Gwen's big secret is a typewriter and an inflated sense of ambition (for an Edwardian maid, anyway).  She admits she's a pretty good typist, and then in barges O'Brien, without even knocking. Somehow the girls manage to hide the typewriter from O'Brien; at least, they get rid of her without having to answer any uncomfortable questions. NinjAnna is sweetly supportive.

Cora and Violet are hanging out for tea and discussing Mary's idea for landing Evelyn Napier. Cora's still in her Entail Dress. Violet is in yet another purple outfit. And rightly so, for purple, remember, is an imperial color, a color of power, and authority, and wealth, and Violet, as Robert wryly points out, may be acting coyly ignorant of Evelyn's wealth and position, but she's already "looked him up in the stud books and made enquiries about the fortune". She's earned her purple today, no doubt about it. Plus, once Robert leaves, she lays into Cora about giving up the fight for Mary's inheritance. Again. In purple. Again.

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Now pay attention here. Cora defends Matthew and appears to be submitting to his inevitable inheritance. She even insinuates that she admires him and that he'll be good for the family. While she's saying all this, she's wearing her Entail Dress, because she's discussing the money and the property, etc. Although Cora wears this dress a lot, she often chooses different jewelry to accent it, and today she's got a great big brooch right at her throat. It's either moonstone or opal; I can't quite tell at this distance. Opals are a symbol of hope.  Moonstones are a symbol of managing your emotions to make hard decisions calmly. Don't either of those sound like appropriate descriptors for Cora's motivations here? I'm telling you, costumes tell more of the story.

As a side note, this scene is almost totally fuzzed out around the edges. I don't know what the cinematographer was going for, if this is a thing in British TV filming, but it makes it seem like a dream sequence to me.

Cut to Edith meeting up with Matthew as he comes home from work. She invites him on a tour of local churches, which he accepts, looking somewhat befuddled but perfectly polite. He's in city drag, all black, nothing to mention here. Edith is wearing a dark ensemble that features bits of pink, peacock green, and blue, if her hat is anything to go on, but over it, she's got a pale coat with black velvet trim. It doesn't match her outfit. It looks, in fact, like something Mary might wear. Edith is trying to be as proactive as her elder sister, so she throws on something that makes her look like her, over her own usual self. It doesn't match very well, literally or figuratively.

Servant Scene. Everyone treats Gwen's typewriter as if it were explosive. O'Brien says the girls were trying to hide it, so that's how she knew it was wrong. In that case, O'Brien, a sense of decency and compassion must also be wrong, because you're hiding yours pretty well. Mrs. Hughes is not wearing her Stripes of Authority, so although she's kind of stern when Gwen mouths off a little, she doesn't actually scold her for wanting to leave service and become a secretary.

Anna is lacing Mary into her stays. They are so gorgeous with the embroidery on the front, it almost makes me want to wear them. Notice how long and lean they are. No more Victorian hourglass figures, and in a few years they'll dispense with them altogether.

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Edith is in a pretty peach-colored velvet with heavy pearls. It's nice to see her looking so fetching after being so awkward with Matthew. Cora pokes her head in to tell Mary that Mr. Napier confirmed his visit and he's bringing a Turkish friend, Mr. Pamuk. Cora is in the same dinner dress again. You know the one. Mary is being put into a slate-blue silk number that I rather like. It's soft and goddess-y and I love the little cream lace appliqués. Unfortunately Mary doesn't do it justice; she whines about being made to ride out with the hunting party, which sort of surprised me. She seems like she would be eager to go galloping around the countryside.

Source. Mary doesn't wanna.

More FuzzyCam work throughout this scene. I guess it's evocative, or meant to resemble candlelight, or something.

NinjaBates goes to a weird basement House of Horrors to purchase a limp corrector from--I hesitate to call him an artist. Let's go with craftsman--a craftsman of artificial limbs and other scary things. He displays the sort of surliness I've heard is common among North Country tradesmen, at least if Harry Enfield and Monty Python are to be trusted. Bates buys one of his contraptions without even checking the guy's credentials. One full-color anatomy poster and an oddly slope-shouldered skeleton slouching in a corner do not a trained orthopedist make, Bates!

Crawley House. Matthew and his mother get a dinner invitation. They snark about Mary, and Isobel displays a little casual middle-class English racism by claiming she can't pronounce Mr. Pamuk's name. Seriously? Anyway, their clothes are nothing remarkable. I can't even see them very well, because the light is so low.

Servant Scene. Anna and Gwen lay out Mary's riding clothes. Gwen has a meltdown. Bates helps calm her down and assures her you can change your life if you want to, because he's done it himself. Foreshadowy! The Ninja Twins bond. Bates winces. Mrs. Hughes catches him. She's in her Stripes of Authority, but Bates fobs her off with a quip.

Hunt Day! Upbeat music, stirrup cups (yum) and some kind of cakey snack for the riders (and Thomas, naughty boy). Brownies? No, they hadn't been invented yet. More probably some sort of treacle cake or gingerbread, but if it were sticky, wouldn't it get on their gloves? Anyway, horses and hounds milling about, and Mary and Evelyn trading quips while waiting for the dandy Pamuk. And what a dandy he is! Yowza. Everyone's in standard riding costume of one kind or another, so let's just take a moment to mention that the red riding jackets are called "hunting pinks"for obscure reasons, and later you'll see everyone skidding about in their socks on rolls of canvas when they go inside, because hunting is a filthy sport and when you're done with it, so are you. It's worth noting that Pamuk and Mary are both in black habits while Napier is in pinks, making him the odd man out. I like Lady Mary's veil and her little cameo earrings. Tally ho!

Source. Not a matched pair, as you can see.

Source. See? Don't they look better together?

Judging from the camera work, I'm pretty sure none of the actors are actually on horseback once they get underway. For sure those jumps were taken by doubles, although they don't look particularly treacherous to me.

Meanwhile, Edith and Matthew are enjoying a calm afternoon in the local churches. Well, maybe "enjoying" is a stretch. Edith does her best to flirt. She fails. Matthew is either oblivious or uninterested, or both. Too bad it's going so poorly, because I ADORE Edith's outfit. It's hunter green with a lovely blouse with a Japanese-inspired iris pattern. The jacket has a little lace on the collar, and a few nice details in the buttons. It's probably her best day suit, and she does it credit. I found exactly one image of it online and the link was broken. No, I can't do screengrabs on Netflix. Search for it yourselves and you'll see what I mean.

Everyone's back from the hunt, encrusted with mud. Thomas notices Pamuk and asks Carson, "is that one mine?", possibly indicating that the upper staff, at least, know about his proclivities. Cora and Robert greet the hunters at a safe distance. Why didn't they go? Surely Robert rides, even if Cora hasn't learned to enjoy that most English of pastimes. He's in his country-yeoman tweeds. She was wearing her Entail Dress before the riders left, but she's changed into a foofy lavender dress with a big fat amethyst at the throat. Hmmm. Amethyst = wisdom and humility. Ok, it doesn't apply this time. Note that Napier's waistcoat is (snore) dun-colored, but Pamuk's is a rich plummy burgundy with a satin backing. Much more interesting!

Source. Après hunt! Too bad Pamuk's not in this one.

Servant Scene. The girls (and O'Brien) gather at the baize door to catch a glimpse of the Quality. Thomas leers at O'Brien on his way to Pamuk's rooms. Anna thinks Pamuk's beautiful. Carson scolds them. They break.

Bates dresses Robert. They discuss how excited Thomas was to have the "beautiful" Pamuk to serve. They know about it too! Then Bates has another spasm and brushes it off.

Thomas "forgets himself", although I think it counts as entrapment. Pamuk is sneaky!

Dinner. The Crawleys are discussing the servants at table (specifically, Gwen's ambitions), which is a big no-no, and they're doing it in front of guests, which is unthinkable. Fellowes is sacrificing propriety and historical accuracy for the sake of some exposition and a chance to prove that he's not a toffee-nosed jerk, by telling us (through the characters, of course) that it matters that servants are happy with their lot. Methinks the baron doth protest too much. Sybil's only line here is as sweet and fluffy as her dress, an unusual (for her) pink confection. Edith is also in pink and gets no lines. Isobel is in the same dress as always and as tiresome as always. Cora's in the Topside-Boob dress, Violet is in glittering black with a high collar and a large dose of imperiousness, of course, and Mary, well, Mary is in red. Her sisters in pink are but pale copies of her. She's got black gloves and a feather nearly a foot high on her head, like a flag, a...red...flag? Uh-oh.

Source. For some reason she's missing the feather. 

Pamuk oozes with innuendo. Ick. Grumpy Matthew is grumpy. I think I just saw his bottom lip quiver. Later, in the drawing room, he'll at least get the satisfaction of commiserating with Napier and thwarting Edith's hopes by suggesting they take his mother along on the next church crawl.

And then it all goes pear-shaped. In an unusual twist on the "come and look at my engravings" ploy (Pamuk gets Mary to come and look at her own engravings!), things get all date-rapey. That room must have bigger than Pamuk thought; it took a good two or three seconds to back her up all the way against the wall. Yikes. Mary deals with it pretty well, although if she knew what would happen later she probably would have had him "cast out into the darkness". Oh, well. She probably thought rejecting him and stomping off was enough, but she doesn't know about the deal he cut with Thomas, and she didn't see that nasty grin creep across his face like we did. Ew.

Source. Tee hee. Also, ew.

Thomas fulfills his end of the bargain and shows Pamuk to Mary's room. This is where it gets disgusting and creepy. Pamuk easily ensures Mary's compliance by telling her that even if she screams for help, she'll be "ruined" because everyone will know that she had a man in her bedroom. Then he tells her she'll "still be a virgin for [her] husband" after his attentions. I have to admit to some curiosity here, but that's a topic for another blog. Then it gets all gooey and soft-focus as Pamuk softens her up by telling her to trust him, blah blah blah cue the sappy music. Stop that! This is not romantic. I just have to point that out for my own good conscience.

We all know what happens next. For Lady Mary's sake (and the fact that the costumes aren't significant or interesting because everyone's in white nightgowns), I won't go into detail, but I do have a continuity question: When Pamuk apprehends Mary in her room, she's sitting up in bed reading, candle still burning. Since dinners like this one could run pretty late, it's probably safe to say that it's past midnight. When she, Anna, and Cora are dragging Pamuk back to his room (*headflop*), dawn is breaking (it's springtime) and Daisy sees them. Assuming it was around 1AM when Pamuk snuck in, and Daisy probably gets up at about 5 to light the first fires and wake up the rest of the (female) staff at 6, are we to assume that four hours have gone by from coercion to cover-up? How long were they at it, if I may be so indelicate? If I may be further indelicate (it's ok, because I'm married), there's a limit to what you can do to/with a woman until she's, um, not a virgin for her husband anymore. Did poor Mary lie there for an hour or two trying to shift him off of her and figure out what to do? Did it really take another hour or so to get him from the family wing to his room in the bachelor's corridor? Was Mary up reading until 2 or 3AM? Or was there a convenient collapsing of time so that the scullery maid could bear witness to the scandal? What do you all think? And why didn't Mary lie when her mother asked her if Pamuk had forced himself on her? It would have saved her her mother's scorn!

Next morning. Thomas discovers the corpse to the sound of menacing violins. I like the way his chin drops, just a little. Mary comes down the stairs, meets Napier, and freaks out. She's wearing a black skirt and a black-and-white striped blouse. Someone's feeling guilty! Those jailbird stripes tell you all you need to know about Mary's state of mind.

Evelyn Napier acts like an Upper-Class Twit straight out of Monty Python, or a Wodehouse novel, which is not surprising because according to Robert, his father "only ever talks about racing", to the point of not mentioning his wife's death to his friends, so it's obvious Evelyn learned it from the cradle. "Terrible thing," he stutters. "Awful. Ghastly for your parents." Then he asks to see the gardens with Mary, as if nothing's happened and their courtship can proceed apace. Of course, when she loses it, the penny drops pretty quickly, so I suppose he's not that much of a twit. Fun side note: he asks to see the gardens, and he's wearing a flowered tie!

Servant scene. Gwen spouts anachronistic garbage about treating every day as if it were your last. Oh, honestly. Thomas makes veiled comments about Mr. Pamuk's final activities and trots off before anyone can think about them. Sybil surprises Gwen with an ad for a secretary and helps her arrange an interview. She is super-cute in a blue-and-white striped blouse--the very picture of a turn-of-the century junior bluestocking!

Sorry folks, I lost the link for this one.

Napier says goodbye to Cora, who's in her Entail Dress (which I keep misspelling as "Entrail Dress". Too bad this isn't a Lady Gaga blog) and giant coat. It's exactly the same outfit she was wearing when she set the whole Napier plot in motion, so we've come full circle. Napier tells Cora he's figured out that Mary doesn't care much for him, and then he's off, never to be seen again.

Carson and Robert discuss funeral arrangements and Feminine Sensibilities (irony), and then NinjaBates is discovered weeping in pain by Mrs. Hughes and her Stripes of Authority. It's significant that she demands to know what's wrong with him, not just because valets were generally above the command of the housekeeper and butler (Bates is mostly wrong when he says that "it's for Mr. Carson to give [him] orders"), but also because in a Great House, the housekeeper would be responsible for treating sick or injured servants. Downton Abbey is big, but it's probably not so big that it employs a dedicated stillroom maid to make jams, cordials and basic herbal medicines; those would be among Mrs. Hughes's jobs. Even if there is a maid to help with these tasks, it's Mrs. Hughes who supervises and keeps the book of recipes and remedies. So it would be her responsibility to be on the lookout for anyone who's limping, or sniffling, or whatever. But Bates fobs her off again, and we cut to the Dowager Countess sweeping in and making vinegary comments. Mary freaks out again. This scene is so short I don't really have much to say about anyone's dresses. We've seen them all before and they served their purpose then.

Servant Scene. Gwen gets curious about Thomas' comments, which he deflects. We get the first hints of Daisy's obsession with Pamuk's death and Mrs. Patmore's degenerating eyesight. When your plot arc dies, get another.

Short scene with Matthew and his mother, and Mrs. Bird's back. Nothing to report here. Moving on. O'Brien is getting Cora ready for bed. She probes for information about Mr. Napier and gets what she needs. I wonder if everyone downstairs relies on her for gossip, for all they dislike her surliness. I bet they do.

Carson and Mary have a lovely, if somewhat morbid, scene together. Mary's in black, even though she needn't go into mourning for an acquaintance (ahem), but she's feeling pretty down. Carson bucks her up. Awww.

Bates finally gets caught after dressing Robert and failing to laugh at his joke about Mrs. Patmore being a German spy. The Stripes of Authority win at last. Luckily she has a strong stomach.

Matthew and Mary chat on the lawn. Mary, having gone through her ordeal, is now in her trademark ice blue (in the jacket and hat), with a dark skirt and white blouse. She's all grown up now!

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Mrs. Hughes and Bates go throw the Limp Exacerbator--excuse me, Limp Corrector--in the pond, and mumble some post-modern nonsense about being true to oneself.

Source. The caption for this link reads, in part, "yaypoorbates". Heh.

Thomas and O'Brien have another tobacco-laced tête-a-tête. O'Brien casts doubts on the Pamuk affair, and we smash to credits.

Next up: The Secret Life of Housekeepers, and Violet puts one over on Isobel, but Molesley still suffers. The world is just as it should be.

Costume Quibbles: Downton Abbey, Season 1, Episode 2

Whew, the last post was a slog, huh? It took me almost a full day to write and probably about that long for everyone to read. But I think we got a lot of ground covered, like the servants' uniforms, that doesn't need to be revisited, so hopefully this one will go a little faster. Let's get right to it.

Isobel and Matthew arrive in the village to start their new lives. They're stuffed into the back of what I now realize is the Crawley family station wagon, and they look about as pleased to be in it as I was to be in the Miles family station wagon after the third hour on the interstate. Their traveling clothes are sturdy and well-made. I like that Matthew's scarf matches Isobel's suit. I like that Isobel's suit matches her personality: plain, but of a good sort, and hard to ignore. The maroon looks good on her.

And here comes Molesley, the butt monkey of Downton. He's the Crawley House butler and Matthew's valet, so he's in butler drag: striped trousers, morning coat, watch chain, necktie. Ok, then. He doesn't do anything stupid. Not this time.

Source. God knows what would happen to him in today's school system.

Cora and Robert descend their staircase. No one's happy about Matthew inheriting the estate. Cora's wearing the same brown dress she wore when Lady Violet first appeared. I might start thinking of it as her Entail Dress, if we see it once more while she's chewing over that thorny little problem.  The detail on it--the oversized buttons and buttonholes, the trim down the front, the white blouse that goes under it--all make it look a little like menswear, which makes sense considering she's tackling what was generally thought of as an issue to be resolved by men.  It also makes her blend into the walls and woodwork of the house, along with Robert and his country suit.  These people are totally embedded in their lives and surroundings, and vice versa.

Matthew and Isobel wander around their new house. Matthew has to be himself, man. Isobel tells him to get over himself. And then they in sweeps Lady Mary. Cousin Mary, please! She's in her riding habit of wide dun-colored skirt, matching fitted jacket with velvet collar, and shirt, stock (necktie), and top hat with a veil. Talk about flaunting her rank. She couldn't be more aristocratic if she tried. Even in a Worth gown and jewels, she wouldn't seem as totally foreign and inaccessible to Matthew as she does here. If this episode had been directed by David Lynch or the people who did Lost, I might even suspect that Lady Mary had arrived in a conventional afternoon walking dress and Matthew just imagined her in such iconic aristo garb. But showing up on her hunter is just the sort of stunt that Mary, who really is a terrible snob, would pull. Interestingly, though, her stock is the same color as Isobel's suit and Matthew's scarf. Isobel is ready to immerse herself, literally, in this new world, while Matthew is only ready to deal with it in small amounts, like around his neck (there's a "millstone around the neck" quip in here, but I want to push in. I mean on. On).

Source.

Servant Scene. O'Brien leads a meeting of the Snobby Servants' Association of Downton. Gwen gets a much-anticipated package in a plain brown wrapper. Mrs. Patmore practices a little tough love on Daisy.

Cora and Mary are getting ready for dinner with the Horrible New Heir. Cora's in the same dress she wore for dinner with the Duke, which is a nice gesture on her part, dressing up and taking as much care for people she isn't thrilled about entertaining as for those she welcomes with open arms. Mary's dress is very similar in design to her mother's (presenting a united front to the newcomers), but it's green, which is a very unusual color for her. There are some weird gold embroidered...flowers? Sunbursts? Mold spots? sprinkled here and there on it. I love the design of this dress, and it's nice that it looks like Cora's (possibly a hand-me-down?) but it's just not Mary. It show us how uncomfortable she is with the whole affair.

Source.

Edith and Sybil look much nicer, in colors that suit them. I may as well tell you all now that I am so much of a Downton devotee that I received a copy of the third-season companion from both my parents at Christmas, and exchanged one of them for the first-and-second season volume. They're very well-written (by Julian Fellowes' niece) and informative, with lots of behind-the-scenes information. The costuming notes are my favorite, of course, and the costume designer mentions in the second book that color schemes were established for all of the female characters. I don't know how early on they were implemented, although it probably wasn't the first season. But for our purposes, we might as well go over them now:

Lady Violet: Jewel tones and black (money, money, money--also age, and tradition. Tradition!)

Cora: Pastels, pale colors, floral detail and trim, lots of ornament (matriarchal and luxurious)

Mary: Black, white, grey, blue, occasionally red (she's the most elegant, the fieriest--and the iciest!)
Edith: Green, pink, shades of brown, floral patterns (as befits the most down-to-earth of the sisters)
Sybil: Purple and shades of blue (because...Jessica Brown Findlay looks good in these colors?  I haven't found a deeper reason yet)
Isobel: Pale blue, white, gray, dark neutrals, maroon (utilitarian and practical, with occasional bursts of force, just like herself)

You'll see these themes strengthen over the course of the series, so much so that by the end of the second season you could probably pick out which costumes belong to which character without actually seeing the actors wearing them.

So, Edith is in a nice spring-green frock with some floral embroidery around the bodice and string of pearls: very nice, a little insipid. Sybil's dress is powder blue and lacy, with a wide belt. Also very nice, and also a little insipid. They're younger sisters, after all. They might not even be allowed to get married until after Mary does. Edith and Sybil look more like each other than Mary, again, although Edith and Mary are both in green, and Edith doesn't cast aspersions on Mary at dinner this time. But I still think Mary looks more like Cora in this scene than like her sisters.

Isobel's dress is nice enough, but a little overdone, with net and beading and lace and appliqués. She probably doesn't have the money for serious couture, so she settled for something she thinks is up to snuff, but doesn't quite hit the mark. Lady Violet snubs her (and probably her dress, by extension), and they all go into the dining room for the meal and some strained conversation about ugh, jobs.

Source.  Not a great view, but at least you can see everyone.

Matthew's waistcoat looked rumpled and discolored to me for a moment, until I realized that it was probably satin rather than pure white starched cotton like Carson's and Robert's. Also a little overdone and middle-class. He probably needed it for lawyer things, but lawyer things are different from peer things. There's no such thing as a "week-end" around here. Get with the program, Matt!

Source. Much better! Now you can see the detail, including the Thing on Mary's bodice.

Isobel starts making a nuisance of herself on the way to the drawing room.

Servant Scene. Gossip below decks. The next day, Carson gets a letter and he's shocked, shocked at the contents. Bates sees him going into a pub. Bates sees everything. Is Bates a ninja? I bet he is, and that limp is totally fake.

Isobel goes to the village hospital to watch a man suffer from dropsy, one of the ickier conditions of the common man, because television hasn't been invented yet. Isobel's outfit is pretty unremarkable here. Her coat is dark and kind of dull, and her purple hat matches her brooch and blouse but not her coat. She isn't as put-together as the countesses, but she wouldn't get too dressed up to go walking to the village anyway. Dr. Clarkson is pretty dapper in his gray wool suit and bow tie, but that's because he's got a bevy of nurses to deal with all the fluids that come out of sick people.

Servant Scene. NinjaBates visits Crawley House. Molesley has an existential crisis because he isn't allowed to help a grown man put on his pants in the morning.

Violet's got it in her head that Matthew should marry Mary (say that three times fast). She's steaming down the garden path in a dark mauve walking outfit she's probably had for ages, it's so comfortable and well-fitting. The lapels on the jacket, the waistcoat-y blouse, and the bow at her (high) neck make her look brisk and businesslike. She wants to taken seriously in this matter, but she doesn't need a blue pinstriped ensemble to make her point, like Cora or Mrs. Hughes might. She gets it done without looking like she's getting it done, something she's been practicing for her whole life.

Source.  A different scene and a different hat, but you get the idea.

Servant Scene.  Maids In Nightgowns (coming direct-to-DVD this spring, in a plain brown wrapper).

Matthew arrives home from his, ugh, job, and his mother appears in the hallway looking a little frantic, because Violet and Cora have come to call. She's dressed in a bright magenta printed blouse and khaki skirt, and she couldn't look more out of place in the cool, light-drenched room.  Guess who does look right at home?  That's right, Violet, in a pale blue jacket and cream-colored blouse. Even the dead fox around her shoulders matches some of the furniture behind her. Cora's outfit, interestingly enough, matches the colors of Isobel's, even though it's clearly more expensive. I bet Cora sat right next to Isobel and played good cop for whatever they were trying to persuade her to do. No prizes for guessing who payed bad cop.

Source.

Servant Scene. Carson's stealing apples. Anna sees him. She's a ninja too! NinjAnna!

Isobel's a candy striper! She's in the same outfit as the last scene, but it looks much more coordinated with the hospital's color scheme. She may be all ready to be the mother of an heir presumptive to a Great House, but she's still more comfortable getting her hands dirty and arguing with people.

Servant Scene. Miss O'Brien has standards.  Cora interrupts her description of them and delivers some smackdown wearing the same dress in which she smacked down the Duke! So that's her Smackdown Dress. Got it. Mrs. Hughes appears as backup, and she's got her Stripes of Authority on. They make a formidable pair. They run a very tight ship, those two.

Molesley tries to help Matthew dress for dinner.  Matthew is a jerk about it.

The Sisters Three are dressing for dinner and arguing about whether having an ugh, job is suitable for a gentleman. Sybil's in another powder-blue dress with a wide waistband, which is fine because she leaves right after mentioning that some of their peers (heh, see what I did there?) are doing things like studying for the bar. So we're done with her for now. Edith is in a very ornate red-and-gold affair. No insipid green for her this time! As she gets up to leave we can see that the top half is a sort of brocade blouse with long pointy drapey things (can someone can give me the technical name for them?) hanging down over her solid-colored, two-tiered skirt. As she walks, you can hear beads clicking. Very elaborate, indeed. This color and complexity of this dress tell us to pay attention to Edith--she does something important!  The important thing that she does is snoop in her older sister's correspondence and find a letter from someone named Evelyn Napier*. There's no dialogue about her little find, but the dress tells you it's important, and you should remember it.

Edith and Sybil, incidentally, are the only women wearing colors at this dinner (at least, colors that aren't covered with black chiffon). They may have been released from mourning because of their age. Or maybe black chiffon was getting fashionable, but they've been deemed too young to wear it. I'm just spitballing here. What do you all think?

But this scene is about Mary and her mother. Cora comes in, "drives the others away", and goes to work getting her daughter to warm to the idea of marrying Matthew. Her dress tonight is very sparkly. Who does that remind you of? Yep, she's selling her mother-in-law's idea, so she's dressing like her.  She's also wearing some pretty large pearls in her ears and around her neck, and a peacock feather in her hair.  Pearls and peacock feathers are classic (and classical) symbols of wealth, but also of vanity, pride, and greed. There's money at stake, lots of money, and Cora's doing her best to hang on to it.

Mary's dress is similar in design to the one her mother wore at the last dinner, topside-boob and all, but her skirt is dark red and the waistband is sparkly red (it looks hot pink, actually, but we're warming up to red).  This is the first time we've seen her in this color. Mary usually sticks with cool colors, but when she's wearing red, you know you're going to have a fight on your hands. As we'll see, she's extra-stubborn at this dinner in specific, and about the whole marriage issue in general.

Dinner. Isobel, wearing the same dress as at the last dinner, starts us down the icky garden path that ends with a very large needle in a man's chest. Robert tries to run interference, but it doesn't work.  Even Violet can't stop the force of nature that is Isobel. Mary makes pointed comments about hunting, sea monsters and sons of gods to Matthew. Even Granny thinks Mary's being a bitch. Matthew holds his own. Violet doesn't make much headway tonight, even though she's wearing yet another power dress in rich purple, overlaid with black lace and her signature high collar. In between, Carson freaks out that Mrs. Hughes might be on to him. She's not. Don't worry, Carson.  Only the Ninja Twins know your secret.

Servant Scene.  Silly Daisy. Thomas isn't a bear. He's not even an otter. Now stop that before you put your joints out and go to bed. We get a quick view of Violet asking Matthew some tough questions, and then it's back to Carson's pantry, where he fusses over minute damage to a candlestick and tips his hand that Lady Mary's his favorite. Next day, we've got O'Brien snobbing about and Thomas fiddling with clocks.

Dr. Clarkson calls on Lady Violet.  He's wearing his best visit-the-patroness black suit and stiff collar. Her gray dress with its lapels and white blouse is more menswear-ish than any we've seen yet, but she's acting as the hospital president, so she's officially in charge now. She orders Clarkson to get rid of Isobel and reminds him that no one can predict what happens, and that's that.  Yes, ma'am.

Robert's out and about on the estate, looking at big plans and keeping Pharaoh on a pretty short leash. Can't have him decimating the Downton squirrel population, I suppose. He's in his lord-of-the-manor tweeds, complete with silly plus-fours. Look how they make him blend into the green and brown of the foliage. Matthew's in a city coat, hat and necktie. He looks like a day-tripper. He is, in a way. He "does not love the place yet". He doesn't consider it his "life's work" yet. The two outfits highlight the distance between the men, and their attitudes toward the estate. We get an awkward teaser about how Cora (i.e., Cora's money) saved the estate (what? Why would Matthew ask something like that, except to give us a little exposition?), and then we cut to...

...Servant Scene! The Ninja Twins are alone together for the first time that we've seen. Oh no! The doorbell rings, and we can't have a maid answering it! Bates lurches upstairs to admit an archetype of the Cockney Rotter: awful checked suit, bowler, silly brushed mustache, accent as broad as the High Street. He brazens his way into the lord's library, despite Bates' attempts to "tuck him away somewhere", but Sybil comes in! Here's another instance of a riding habit (and those nice pearl studs) being used to draw bright lines between the classes. But Sybil is much less pretentious-looking than her sister in this scene--her hair is mussed, and she's futzing with her hat, her gloves, and her crop, plus she instantly teams up with Bates, "in case explanations are needed". Such a clever girl. Anna's bombing down the main drive for Carson (who arrives with his hair slightly mussed--a clear sign of major upset on Carson's part), but it's Robert who gets there first. He's changed out of his walking tweeds and into another manor-camouflage suit. He's perfectly at home, as he should be.

Having done the costume analysis, we shall not bear witness to Carson's shame. Although I will point out, in the absence of context, that £20 was a great deal of money in those days: over $2,000.

The Ninja Twins have a little snicker about the whole sordid affair (notice NinjAnna has changed into her afternoon uniform--she's a ninja, I tell you!), Anna assures Bates she wouldn't care if she found out about his past, and NinjaBates (NinJohn? no, NinjaBates) assures her that it would.  Foreshadowy!

We open on the dower house, over which Lady Violet's disembodied voice bleats, "We're running out of options!" She's wearing another taking-care-of-business dress in slate blue with lapels and a lacy blouse. Cora has arrived for tea (oh, look at that glorious tea! DO WANT) in half-mourning purple taffeta and a killer hat. No sooner does she start in on a sandwich than she mentions that she's seen Isobel headed to the hospital with a bee in her bonnet. Not a bee, as it turns out, just a tiny vial of adrenaline (where did she get it? How? How did they even make adrenaline back then?), which eventually, after some persuasion and a few very unpleasant scenes involving giant needles and pumps and a large quantity of what appears to be Listerine (it's not, it's even more revolting) removed from a sick man's chest, gets plunged into said sick man's said chest, thoroughly astonishing the Dowager Countess and shocking her into silence.

So here's the thing: when Violet gets up from her tea (how could you leave a tea like that?!) to go stop Isobel from, you know, helping people--I mean, making a nuisance of herself, of course--she's dressed to dominate in the aforementioned businesslike dress. When she gets there, she's in her black coat and hat, as she should be, but all that luxury in front of a dying man, his miserable wife (and her miserable hat), and the others, working so hard to save him, just makes her look aloof and out-of-touch. Not to mention the significance of black as the color of death in Western civilization. Her clothes aren't working for her this time; they're working against her.

Isobel's in the same outfit as her first visit to the hospital, which makes sense, because she's behaving in exactly the same way as she did on her first visit to the hospital. She's lucky she was right this time.

Side note: Lady Violet has a gray cat. Because of course she does.

Robert, Matthew, and Dr. Carson, all in three different-looking suits to represent three very different types of people, discuss the event over coffee. Robert makes Isobel chairman of the hospital board to give Lady Violet some "loyal opposition". Before heading home, Matthew tries to get rid of Molesley. I would too, even if I did want a valet. Robert makes him look absurd to shut him up (Matthew, not Molesley. Molesley doesn't need any help in that department). It works, and the last shot of the scene is of Matthew's rather gormless expression.

I wonder how Thomas feels about helping Matthew get on his bike. It looks so silly to have a footman wheel it out for you with all the gravitas of helping you into a royal coach.

The Sisters Three are setting out for the hospital and joking about sea monsters and Perseus. This is where Mary reveals Evelyn Napier's name and pedigree and why she doesn't care if Edith likes Matthew more than she does. This is where we really get to see the costuming scheme take hold. All three are wearing walking suits of basically the same design (probably made by the same person), but they're totally in character: Mary's is the chicest, with those black details (love the pointy lapels and that black frog closure--you know they're made of velvet) and three-quarter sleeves (and in a neutral color), and the hat is out of this world. Edith's is that nice warm rose she looks so good in, but the effect of the black hat, collar, and gloves is rather discordant, just like Edith can be. Sybil's is powder-blue, and she's got her preferred proto-cloche hat and a flowered blouse with a lacy collar to remind us how sweet and how young she is. Plus, she has lavender gloves, which might mean she isn't allowed to wear black ones yet, or maybe it just a reminder that she's just more sensitive than Edith (like we need a reminder).

Source.

Servant Scene. Apparently it's some sort of ceremony, and even the servants can come, because Mrs. Hughes is wearing a crazy flowered blouse and teasing Carson. Sad Carson is sad. Mrs. Hughes bucks him up. The rest of the servants appear in various iterations of working-class garb. William gets shot down by Daisy, who will never understand that she's barking up the wrong tree.

Molesley, looking doleful, stands by while Matthew gets ready. Matthew throws him a bone. Awww.  Stop looking so pleased with yourself, Matt. You don't get any points for being a decent human being.

Does Dan Stevens get blonder as the series goes on? His hair seems very dark in this scene. Maybe it's the lighting.

Carson thanks Bates for keeping quiet and not judging him. Bates has no right to judge anyone. Moreshadowy!

Everyone's assembled for the investiture of Isobel as chairman of the board. She looks smug, but she also looks pretty good. She's in her usual coat (which I can now see is a very dark forest green), but she's finally dug out the matching hat (whose shape I do not know the word for...anyone? anyone? Bueller?) and its little plume. She looks good enough to be up there with her rival. Lady Violet is wearing the same coat and hat as the last scene she was in, and she looks just about as pleased (and as stuffy and anachronistic) as she was then.

Source

Violet's expression ends the episode, but I wanted to give Cora's outfit a quick mention, even though she's not really a key player in this scene (just the usual lady-of-the-manor persona you'd expect to see at an event like this), because of its sheer awesomeness. You can see part of it in the photo above, but it's not the best part. This is:

Source. Ignore Robert, he's being a sourpuss.

Wow. All I can say is, wow. The details! The color! The hat! If I had an outfit like this, I'd wear it everywhere. Even to the grocery store. Hell, especially to the grocery store.

That's all, folks! See you for Episode Three and some Turkish delight (I had to. I just had to)!







*That's Evelyn with a long "e", as in "enumerate", indicating that it's a man's name (cf. Evelyn Waugh).

Costume Quibbles: Downton Abbey, Season 1, Episode 4

Welcome back, darlings, welcome back. This episode of Costume Quibblings doesn't have quite as much to chew on as the previous three, as the plot is rather servant-heavy, but I'm sure we'll find something to talk about, won't we?

We open on a lovely late-spring day (a poster lets us know it's late May), and a traveling fair is setting up shop. The Ninja Twins, chaperoned by Gwen, are strolling through the village. The girls are in their morning uniforms, which I thought was a little strange: if it's their day off, they would have changed into their own clothing to go out, and they probably wouldn't have had the same day off anyway, or who would make the beds and dress the Sisters Three?  Maybe they're on an errand for Mrs. Hughes or something. Anyway, Anna spots Lady Mary watching the preparations. She's wearing a gray walking suit and matching hat trimmed with maroon ribbon. Beautifully tailored, of course, but fairly ordinary and kind of bland. It makes her blend in a little with her surroundings, which is very uncharacteristic of Lady Mary. She's probably still trying to get over the Pamuk Affair. Which is what Anna discusses with her as they stroll along together. This is something I find highly unlikely, a lady and a chambermaid tooling around town like BFFs. Mary would have been polite but aloof if Anna had greeted her, and Anna may not have even tried to get her attention. But this is Downton, a kind of Utopia of classism where some, but not all of the rules apply.

Source.

Robert is boring Pharaoh by writing some letters instead of throwing sticks or shooting things for him to bring back, when Carson appears with the new chauffeur in tow. Ladies and gentlemen, let's meet our second bachelor*, Tom Branson! He's already dressed for work, and his uniform is...green! Because he's Irish! No, probably because that was a pretty typical color for chauffeurs of the day (you sometimes saw dove gray, but that always says "London" to me), but let's just go with the Irish-green theory, because it's more picturesque. Robert naïvely offers to let him use the library, thus aiding and abetting a dangerous revolutionary!

Source.

Lady Violet and Cora are taking tea about half a mile from the house (note the footman, probably Thomas, trudging back to the house with a tray. The event planner in me reminds you all that someone had to drag every stick of furniture and silver you see all the way the hell out there, and will have to haul it all the way back in, just so these two could hang out. No wonder Branson is a Socialist). Violet, scheming away as ever, is in one of her Scheming outfits, the lavish purple-and-black print with that fabulous hat.

Source. That would be this one.

Cora's wearing another one of her typical outfits, this time a bone-colored jacket with very elaborate floral appliqué over the shoulders. They're trying to place Mary in the path of eligible suitors and worrying about the entail, as always. Violet schemes to the very end.

Matthew and Isobel are enjoying a nice afternoon at home while Molesley futzes about with the tea things. Dork. Isobel notices that his hands are swollen and red, and he tries to put her off, but she, as usual, just steams ahead until he lets her examine them. She's wearing a flowered blouse and a long, belted maroon skirt, and with her hair piled up, she's the very picture of implacable middle-class stolidness. She still doesn't fit in with her pale blue drawing room, but if you look closely, Matthew's wearing a blue tie that does match the decor. He's becoming more and more entrenched here at Downton, even if he doesn't realize it yet.

Servant Scene. Anna is sent to bed with a cold. Mrs. Patmore sticks up for Daisy for once, telling Mrs. Hughes to let Daisy and the other servants go to the fair (because Daisy's been in a funk since the Pamuk Affair), and follows it up with some attitude towards Mrs. H. Her Stripes of Authority pick their battles, it appears, because she leaves without taking the bait.

Isobel goes bombing through the hospital to get medicine for Molesley. He trails behind like a teenage boy with an overbearing mother, even though they're probably around the same age. Isobel completely  dominates the nurse to get what she needs. Apparently you drink tincture of steel. Yikes.

We get a shot of Matthew in his office, which is nice and light but also cluttered, like any lawyer's. I like how he scrambles into his coat, expecting Cora, and then gets Violet, who sweeps in and tries to create a conflict of interest by getting him to look into his own inheritance. She's wearing the purple suit she had on when she started in on Robert about the entail, so she clearly means business. This time she's got an even more businesslike hat to go with it. Naturally, he is powerless to resist.

Just in case you forgot how imposing she is.

Servant Scene. Mrs. Hughes is trying to "cheer up" one of her hats. O'Brien sourly comments that that's easier said than done. You get a glimpse of the hat, and I kind of agree with her. O'Brien reluctantly agrees to help, but then Mrs. Hughes tells her that she has to dress the Sisters Three tonight, in addition to Her Ladyship, and she freaks out a little. "What, all three of them? I'm not an octopus!" This line made me giggle, as for some reason I can totally see O'Brien with a bunch of black-sleeved tentacles, trying to button dresses and comb hair. Tee hee hee. Here's another example--we've seen a few so far--of O'Brien being kind of dissatisfied and burned out.

Servant Scene. Thomas is an evil sociopath. We knew that before, but he bird-dogs William and gets Daisy to go to the fair with him, just to mess with William. That's cold, man.

Cora, Edith, and Sybil are walking through the village. We learn that the girls take turns having new dresses made, which is interesting (and sensible, considering how much three teenage girls could spend if given a free hand at the seamstress'). Cora tells Branson to drive Sybil to Ripon for her fitting. This can't be the first time Sybil and Branson meet, but it's the first time we see them together. Sybil wants something new and exciting, and boy, is she going to get more than she bargained for.

Servant Scene. Carson's missing some wine. That was guaranteed to make my blood pressure rise to worrying heights when I was a butler.

The fair. Matthew's having a go at the Cocoanut Saloon (which will be the name of my tiki bar/gin palace/music hall, when my ship comes in). Mary comes up and he gallantly pays for her to lob coconuts (look how small they are) in a useless underhand, thus lining the barker's pockets. She's in the same outfit as the last time we met (ice-blue jacket with velvet trim, dark skirt, compact hat), and, spoiler alert, she'll be in it again before anything interesting happens, so I take this to mean that they're in something of a holding pattern until we get around to dealing with their plot line again.

Source.

Servant Scene. Mrs. Hughes goes out for one night and the whole house falls to pieces! No, not really. Carson's just a little rattled. Losing wine will do that to you, believe me. Daisy moons all over Thomas.

Mary and Robert descend their staircase, presumably for dinner even though it's still light out. I love eating dinner in midsummer when the sun isn't even down yet! They're trying to get Matthew in to see Robert without Violet seeing him. As the ladies are filing into the drawing room, we get a lovely throwaway bit about Sybil's desire to go to school rather than have a governess (presumably she's just grown out of hers), and Violet's impression that Americans live in "wigwams"--but, says Cora, "when they come out of them, they go to school!" Love it. Anyway, they're all in perfect character, costume-wise. Mary is in a striking champagne-colored dress with very chic draping, Edith is in dusty-rose pink with a flowery lace overlay, Sybil is in a powder-blue frock with a high satin waistband, Cora is in a creamy Grecian-style gown with an old-fashioned loose bodice and floral embroidery on the front, and Violet is in magenta and black with a lot of sparkle. Business as usual for the Crawleys.

Source. My heart sings with the perfection. Also the gloves.

Mary sneaks Matthew in, but William notices! Oh, wait, he just picks up his chin and goes back to overseeing the drawing room. He's such a good boy.

The Fair. I want a turn on that tower slide! O'Brien came through for Mrs. Hughes, for all her surliness, because her hat looks done to a turn. She meets her old boyfriend, who seems like a nice guy.

Back in the library, Robert gets yet another opportunity to show us what a great guy he is towards the servants by not getting upset that Thomas and others are at the fair. Carson's appalled at his boss' suggestion that he join them. Matthew just looks nervous.

Servant Scene. Mrs. Hughes catches up with Farmer Burns. O'Brien snarks at Branson. Bates learns that his Ninja Twin is still in bed sick, but O'Brien assumes she's malingering.

Carson spills the beans to Violet that Matthew's in the study with Robert, drinking him under the table (no, not really, but her delivery of that line was priceless). Apparently Mary didn't clue Carson in that Matthew would be visiting. Naturally, she surprises them in the very next scene.

Bates brings Anna a dinner tray. Aww and all that, but was she really deprived of dinner just because she was sick? "Stuff a cold, starve a fever" or the other way around, or whatever, is hogwash, but she needs to eat! Surely someone would have been sent up with something for her. Maybe Mrs. Hughes was so excited about Old Home Week at the fair that she forgot to leave instructions for it. Maybe.

Violet storms off, Robert retires, Farmer Joe wins the ring toss for Mrs. Hughes. It's cute that the toy he wins is a scarecrowy-looking little farmboy, and he's a farmerx. Mrs. Hughes scoffs foreshadowingly at the idea that the family wouldn't take care of her when she retires--"what if we all die of the plague? What if there's a war?" *ulp*--and the lower servants spy on her. She gets a marriage proposal. Awww. William gets his nose all out of joint over Daisy. Awww.

Source. Notice that Daisy's dress would look much better if she were next to William.

Back at the Big House, Mary gets bad news about the entail. We get a couple of close-ups of her awesome dress. It's made to look as if it were draped criss-cross around her, and the effect of that plus the chiffon overlay on the bodice looks like a giant "X". She's cross, she's being crossed out of the equation of her own inheritance...the list goes on. She's also wearing a necklace with three teardrop-shaped pearls. I can't quite tease out any significance of them. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Matthew gets a little gooey towards the end of this scene. Mary is so very, very important, eh? A long lingering shot of their handshake drives the point home for the less perceptive among us. Then he manages to wring a little sympathy out of Carson, and he's on his way.

Servant Scene. Mrs. Hughes comes back to O'Brien grumbling, William pouting, and Bates trying to be civil to both of them. So, business as usual. The other servants come in behind her, and we get a quick shot of Daisy with a little nosegay in her hand. Could Thomas have bought it for her? Her dress is pale blue with a big girlish sailor collar, yet another indication of her innocence. Later in the servants' quarters, Bates tries yet again to comfort William, but when he strikes out there, he takes it out on Thomas. Thomas is unfazed.

Dawn in the servants' hall. Mrs. Hughes has a little reverie about being a farmer's wife. I like how all sorts of emotions play across her face. Mrs. Patmore can't see two feet in front of her face anymore. O'Brien and Thomas appear to have to have worked out at least the general outline of the Pamuk affair. Poor sweet old William gets bullied and everyone finally figures out what an ass Thomas is. Even Daisy.

O'Brien, odious woman, is putting the finishing touches on Sybil's hair (still mostly down, notice), when Gwen appears. Sybil's in her junior suffragette outfit again--remember that blue-striped pinafore top? They figure out a way to get Gwen to the interview she's just been invited to, and then they grin in adorable co-conspiracy.

Mary is walking with her father. She's wearing the same morning outfit she had on the first time we saw her. Robert makes excuses for his lack of action towards fixing the entail, and then suggests she marry Matthew. She says she can't bring herself to. So her outfit is there to tell us that nothing's changed since we first saw this whole plot set in motion, even though the leaves all around them are putting out fresh new growth.

Source.

Branson gets above himself talking to Sybil about her new frock, and then pushes his luck by talking to her about the vote and pushing some pamphlets at her. Lucky for him, she's intrigued. Don't try this with Mary, Branson.

Source.

Isobel marches into the hospital with poor Molesley in tow, again. This time she interrupts a meeting between Dr. Carson and Lady Violet. The Dowager is wearing the same slate-blue dress as the last time we saw her at the hospital, when Isobel cured the man with dropsy (remember, she was wearing it at tea with Cora before putting on that big black coat to go witness modern medicine at work). Isobel is in her notice-me maroon, at complete odds with Violet's understated color scheme. And Violet undermines Isobel perfectly, correctly diagnosing Molesley's rash as rue allergy, rather than erysipelas, and then sweeping out with a satisfied little giggle. She didn't need any special medical knowledge, just a great familiarity with the village and its inhabitants. Isobel is totally undone; Molesley is slobberingly grateful, and who can blame him? Gardening gloves are undoubtedly vastly preferable to all that steel and silver. God knows what the tincture tastes like. It's like something out of House.

Robert and Matthew are walking around the estate cottages. Robert's got a greatcoat and a walking stick, making him look venerable and sagacious. Matthew still has his city cap, but he's in tweeds and plus-fours, turning himself into a yeoman and making him seem much more at home. He confirms this by saying he can see a future here at Downton. His necktie is green, the color of hope and growth.

Servant Scene. Mrs. Patmore is having her tea, and Daisy is rhapsodizing about Thomas and his teeth (oh, Brits!). Poor Mrs. Patmore is having a very hard time telling Daisy that she shouldn't be bothering with him without exposing Daisy to what would be considered very sordid facts. Mrs. Patmore knows he's gay too! Everyone knows! Well, except Daisy, of course. Give it up and start the ice cream, Mrs. P.

Anna is helping Edith at her dressing table. Sybil complains about her corset and Edith fat-shames her. No, it didn't shrink in the drawer, Edith, but that doesn't mean you need to be a bitch about it. Sybil's dress is the same as she wore at the last dinner, and Edith is in her red-and-gold number again, but other than snarking about force-feeding suffragettes, she doesn't do much in this episode, so I don't think it has any particular significance this time. Mary comes in, and she's wearing that nice slate-blue "goddess" dress tonight. Unfortunately, I think it's her "sad" dress, because after dinner, she breaks down after hearing her father go on about Matthew and their plans for the estate. Her mother, in an unusual sparkly green gown, tries to comfort her, without much success. I think she's a very good mother, possibly because she sounds like my mother, and I love my mother.

Source.

Servant Scenes. William is emo-ing out on the piano. How did a farmboy learn to play like that? Mrs. Hughes and her Stripes of Authority catch him, comfort him, and get a little affirmation of their own: William doesn't know how the house would run without her. That appears to be all she needs to tip her to the side of staying and not marrying Farmer Joe. Gwen gets some bad news, which she reveals to Sybil (in sharp contrast to Sybil's exultation over her new frock). Sybil, in her cute little pink blouse (the same one she wore at breakfast in the pilot) reminds her not to give up. I could use a reminder of that too, because I feel a lot like Gwen at the moment. Someone please give me a job. Please?

The next scene is a lovely example of the director's art and vision. We get a little background on Mrs. Hughes as she tells Carson about her past with Farmer Joe, intercut with scenes of her letting him down gently as workers pack up the fair and move out. Actually, she delivers the news in a graveyard, of all places. Ok, it's more accurately a churchyard, but you can see the graves on the left side of the screen. She's laid her old life to rest, and she isn't going to resurrect it. Check out this shot of her walking away from him. Her coat matches the purple in her blouse and the black in her hat. She's all put together and sure of herself, even if she's not very happy about it.

Source.

The scene is capped by Mrs. Patmore ranting about needing to "go cap in hand to Mary, Queen of Scots" (Mrs. H. is from Argyll, we've learned), whenever she needs something from the store cupboards. Oh, well. Life goes on, as we can see.

And then, the final scene just tickles me pink. Everyone's waiting for Sybil to appear, and we get a lovely series of shots of her being fastened into the new frock she's been going on about, setting her headdress just so, running girlishly down the stairs, and showing it off to her appalled family--and one peeping Branson.

Source. OH MY GOD HAREM PANTS.

This really is shocking. This is like showing up to dinner nowadays dressed like, I don't know, Slave Leia or something. The Near Eastern look was getting very popular at the time (click here for a shot of the Worth ensemble the costumers based Sybil's costume on), but it had hints of the seraglio, making it a little risqué, especially for a girl like Sybil who hasn't even come out yet. And wearing pants of any kind was unthinkable for ladies--at dinner, no less! Of course, Sybil's decision to break tradition has a political component as well. Suffragettes were taking on all sorts of established gender roles, although women wearing pants didn't really catch on until after the Great War. Of course it's in her trademark shades of light blues and pale neutrals. She looks so good and so happy in this scene--and maybe a little gratified that her family is so horrified. Robert's gaze going from curious to chin-loweringly stern is especially effective.

Tune in next week for the continuing adventures of Gwen, Aspiring Secretary, the trials of Mrs. Patmore, Increasingly Blind Cook, and the introduction of Bachelor Number Three, Sir Anthony Strallan!





*Yes, he's third or even fourth if you count Thomas and William, but The Dating Game is only for the Quality, don't you know.

Costume Quibbles: Downton Abbey, Season I, Episode 1

Welcome to the first episode of Costume Quibbling! As a reminder, the term "Quibbling" might be slightly misleading: I won't be trying to point out flaws in the costume decisions of the movies or TV shows I'm reviewing; rather, I'm using the the word to connote more of a sense of "fussing over tiny details", minus the negative implications.

The real masters of Costume Quibbling are the fabulous Tom and Lorenzo, whose eponymous website is where you'll find the excellent analyses of Janie Bryant's genius work on Mad Men, from which I draw my inspiration. The complete archives are here. I strongly encourage you to read them, even if you're not a Mad Men fan, just to see how amazingly deep and complex costuming can be.

For my first post in the series, I'm going to cover some very well-trodden ground: the runaway PBS hit Downton Abbey. It lends itself well to endless discussion, partly because of the soapy plots (full of emotion, which means the costumers, if they're any good, have a lot of things they can express via wardrobe choices) and partly because of all that lovely costume porn. Wealthy women changed their clothes three, four, sometimes five times a day, even in 1912 when the show starts, so there's plenty of fodder, not to mention the sheer number of cast members means someone's always wearing something interesting. Usually this isn't the men, as there were really only two colors for them to wear: black, and tweed (sure, tweed is a color! :-). Also military uniforms, but we'll get to that later. And the servants have to stick to their uniforms for most of the time, of course, but they occasionally get to step out on their days off, so we might glean a little from those moments.

I'm going to assume whoever's reading this has watched the series all the way through to the end as of early spring 2013 (the final episode is the Christmas special from season 3), but don't worry about spoilers--I have a feeling this project is going to take long enough for everyone to catch up!

Ready?  Here we go!

Season 1, Episode 1

The first season's a little inconsistent in terms of costuming, which is to be expected since everyone, cast and crew alike, are still figuring character and production design out. But there's still plenty to work with, at least once the gentry wake up in mid-April of 1912. The first few scenes are some pretty establishing shots of the milk train steaming through the countryside, bearing a mysterious stranger (no, it's just Bates) and heading towards the village, where the awful news of the Titanic is received and delivered in due time to the manor. Nothing to report here.

Now we're in the house proper. These people are so rich they have human alarm clocks for their staff!  It's Daisy, waking up all the maids at 6AM.  Her pink dress (or another one much like it) is pretty much the only thing she wears for most of the show, so we'll get it out of the way here and now. It's plain, no collar, and made of very sturdy material. You can see the weave in the close-up of her hand knocking at the door (incidentally, the Brits call this "knocking up". Daisy knocks up the maids every morning! Tee hee hee). The maids, Gwen and Anna, are wearing totally typical and barely visible nightgowns, about which I have nothing to say, so back to Daisy's dress. The pink is a nice color, reminding us that she's still a child, and a very innocent one. The sleeves are short, so she doesn't get them dirty with her endless chores, which is good, since her chores include both kitchen work AND fireplace cleaning. Of course there's an apron, too. It's a half apron, which is actually an indication of rank, since she's not a maid or the cook. If you look closely, you can see that she's wearing stays under her dress, which is unremarkable for the time, except that I think she keeps wearing them even into the '20s. She's a very conservative girl, and she's part of the working class, which is rarely on the cutting edge of fashion, but I think she keeps using them for the back support they provide her.

Source.  This isn't actually the same dress as I was describing, but it's close enough.

Next we've got the usual below-stairs traffic of maids and houseboys, cooks and footmen as Daisy schleps up to the first-floor rooms. Mrs. Patmore, the cook, is wearing her work dress, complete with apron (a full apron, because she's Cook!) and a cap to contain her hair. The housemaids are wearing their morning outfits: print dresses with cotton aprons and cotton caps. The dresses are made of a dismal green material, ankle-length, with slightly puffed sleeves. Servants would be given the materials necessary for making their own uniforms, generally at Christmas (fabric was expensive), and I'm not sure if the aprons were bought, or if there was some leeway allowed in the design of the apron, but as you can kind of see, the aprons are not identical. Gwen's is slightly simpler, with less lace, where Anna's is a little more ornate, and I take that to mean that as head housemaid, Anna has been in service longer, so her apron's not quite as fashionable anymore. 

Source

Source.  Note the high collar and the little buttons.

Oooh, here comes Thomas, the naughty footman! He's looking very dapper in his starched shirtfront, horizontally-striped waistcoat (if he were a groom or an outside servant, his waistcoat would be vertically striped), and pomaded hair. Be nice to William, Thomas! 

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There's some more maidly banter, including a few elbows in the ribs for modern viewers about How Silly Electric Light Is, and then we have...stalking along the corridor, keys jangling...Mrs. Hughes. Appropriate, given how the maids would have respected and feared her. Her dress is also pretty sturdy and utilitarian, but she gets a skim of lace at the (very high) collar and cuffs, and a nice pearl brooch to remind us that she's an upper servant. She's always in dark blue or black, often with stripes.  It's very authoritarian and businesslike, and quite right too.

Source.

Our first shot of Carson is most unbefitting to his station. In his shirtsleeves? What's he doing polishing silver at that hour, anyway? As a former butler myself, I can assure you that that's too big a job to bother with before breakfast. Later scenes show him in standard butler livery appropriate for various occasions and times of day. Of course he'd be perfectly correct at all times.

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Only one minute into the first episode, and we've covered quite a lot of ground, haven't we? This pretty much sums up most of the servants' costumes for most of the series, so we probably don't have to examine them again until the War.

And now for our first look at the Quality: Lady Mary! Already cultivating an air of ennui, even at 8AM, she literally looks down on the paperboy in her filmy nightgown and peignoir (nice bit of fanservice there, with the backlighting. I'm sure I could get my husband to watch this with me if there was more of that). Other than that, not much to say. Get dressed, Lady M, and then we'll talk.

Back downstairs. Thomas can't even get a bite of semolina before the bells start ringing. We get our first look at O'Brien, Lady Grantham's maid, looking above her station (and behaving like it) with her teacup in hand. Her dress is boring and black, with the same lace trim and a similar as Mrs. Hughes', but nicer, probably silk. Lady's maids weren't supposed to be attractive or fashionable at all--they were servants, after all!--but one of the perks of the job was receiving their mistresses' cast-off clothing, so this dress might have been something she got from Lady Grantham (although the style is a little too frumpy for a lady of the period).  Her hair is weird and unflattering, but probably fairly easy to deal with, and it stays out of her way.

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More bustling about, inklings of the Titanic tragedy filtering through the staff, and some seriously tasty-looking kedgeree.

Source. Yum!

And there he is, lord of the manor, Robert, Earl of Grantham. Cue gently majestic music for his nobs, please. And his dog, Pharaoh, who presumably undergoes a sex change and becomes the beloved Isis next season. But I digress. High-quality day suit. Checkered silk necktie (nice amber stickpin). Watch chain and fob. Snore. This tells us nothing that we didn't already know: this man is master of all he surveys. Julian Fellowes wants you to know that the English nobility cared, no, really cared, about "the poor devils below decks". Uh huh. Ok. Sure. Oooh, here come the girls. Now things get interesting.

Wait, no, you have to look at Robert first. Source.

Mary and Sybil are wearing basically the same outfit: a soft blouse and long skirt.  It's a nice casual morning outfit. Mary's blouse is blue silk with white collar and cuffs; her skirt is black. Sybil's blouse is pink with little black dots, and it's hard to tell with the sunlight on it, but her skirt is either dark blue or violet. Edith is in something entirely different style-wise, a fitted dark blue one-piece dress with pink at the collar and cuffs. BUT! Her color scheme matches Sybil's. So Mary and Sybil are have something in common, as do Sybil and Edith. Mary and Edith aren't matched at all. This ought to tell you something right now about how those two feel about each other, before we get any exposition to back it up.

Source.

The other notable part of the first appearance of the Crawley sisters is that Sybil's hair is down, while Edith and Mary have updos. This indicates that Sybil hasn't "come out" yet--i.e., been presented at court and placed on the marriage market. She's still a child as far as society is concerned.

We meet Cora, Countess of Grantham, when Robert goes to break the news that several of her friends spent a cold and uncomfortable night in a rowboat but are now safe and sound--oh, and that both heirs to Downton "and the rest of the swag", as she'll put it later, are sleeping with the fishes, thus setting the whole plot in motion. She's in a fussy nightgown and bed jacket, pink, with gold trim. As we'll see in future scenes, this high level of craftsmanship, ornamentation, and detail is typical of her wardrobe.  Cora was a Buccaneer--a member of American high society who married an English lord in the 1880s and '90s, when many of the titles and estates were in serious jeopardy. Their money saved the English aristocracy from sliding into genteel oblivion, but it was pretty hard for those brides for the first couple years: the estates were crumbling, freezing and totally outdated; the servants sometimes actively plotted against them; they had a whole cast of horrible in-laws: bitchy sisters-in-law, crazy great-uncles, and we all know how their mothers-in-law could behave...I can't wait to see the prequel Fellowes claims to be working on.  

Source. You can't see too much of her costume, but dig that tea set.

Anyway, two and a half seasons later, we'll learn that Cora receives a "dress allowance" from her wealthy parents back in Ohio, so that she doesn't bankrupt her husband by fulfilling her socio-sartorial obligations (it was probably part of her dowry). Having been raised with what the British would consider American decadence and excess, and since she doesn't really have to worry about the cost of her wardrobe, it's not surprising that her clothes are so luxurious and ornate. We'll see later on that she  prefers floral motifs, although that's pretty typical for the period.

Back downstairs we go, with O'Brien and the maids. At the bottom of the stairs is our mysterious stranger from the train: Mt. John Bates, the new valet. He's dressed typically for a man in the upper levels of the working class: inferior suit, soft shirt, necktie, overcoat, very worn satchel. We get the Anna-Bates meet-cute, and he hobbles off. What follows is what I'll probably be calling a Servant Scene, since we've already gone over their costumes. So, Servant Scene, and then Lady Mary, who's still in her breakfast outfit, whining about mourning clothes. I can't blame her for being relieved that she doesn't have to mourn Patrick as a fiance, although it was pretty insensitive to say so in front of her father. Mourning clothes were dreadful affairs: black first, of course, but then innumerable gradations of gray, violet, purple, mauve, lilac and lavender, depending on one's age and relationship to the deceased. Everyone in the family would need to re-tool and supplement their wardrobes to accommodate these rules, and they would be barred from attending balls while in mourning, which would put a serious crimp in the Crawley girls' social lives and marriage prospects. Mary is glad not to have to mourn Patrick as a fiance, because that would mean she'd be in black (or purple, or gray, or whatever) for nearly a year; but as a cousin in mourning, she'd be looking at 3-6 months, tops.

Servant Scene. Snuff-box MacGuffins. Bitchy Thomas is bitchy. Mrs. Hughes breaks up the first of many Thomas-O'Brien tête-a-têtes.  

What's next? Cora and Robert taking a walk-and-talk. Cora mentions the preparations being made for mourning clothes (see? It's a pain!), and she's already wearing what's probably the most somber outfit she owns that's not actually mourning: a dark burgundy dress and coat, cream-colored blouse, and big ol' hat with a black ribbon. The velvet, the hat, and the gold brooch at her throat all proclaim her wealth.

And now...ladies and gentlemen...prepare yourselves for...THE DOWAGER COUNTESS.

Oh, yes. She's arrived. And of course she's heard. Why else would she be here?

So, Lady Violet, Dowager Countess of Downton, puts the "old" AND the "school" in "old school".  What I find most interesting about her, aside from all the razor-tongued quips, of course, is that she hasn't bothered to have new clothes made since the last coronation (look it up for yourselves, I'm tired of linking things). The silhouette of the turn of the century (there) emphasized an S-bend and a sweeping skirt, so anything that went over that made you look as solid as a battleship, which Violet certainly does in this first scene. I can't decide if that black coat is lambskin, sealskin, or some other kind of fur. Anyone? The hat is a work of art. We also get a glimpse of a Dowager Countess trademark: a high neck. She always wears a choker or a high collar, which gives her an air of formality and wealth. Also that walking stick! The perfect prop for running everyone's business. 

So why should she update her wardrobe? She has everything she needs and she looked perfect in her Belle Epoque duds--perfectly imposing, perfectly put together, perfectly old-fashioned without looking stuffy or frumpy. On a practical note, she probably has less money now that Robert and Cora has taken over, so she has to be more frugal.  

We also get a better look at Cora's dress, which serves to emphasize the difference between the new fashions and the old: Cora looks younger and sleeker, but also smaller and more vulnerable.  Black and brown don't match, either, so even though they're allies by the end, they aren't really tied to one another yet.

Source.

Love the detail on Cora's dress.

Servant Scene, chock-full of condescending explanations from Carson. But Bates gets the last word! 

Another Servant Scene, this one with funeral food, poison, and unrequited love! Yum.  

Robert and Murray, his solicitor, in the requisite top hats and black clothing. All by the book.

A quick shot of the girls in their black dresses: now here, a few telling details emerge (I don't have a picture for this scene, so just trust me).  Mary's dress is the most elegant of the three, with a little vertical row of buttons down the bodice and a jacket that looks like a man's old-fashioned riding frock coat.  Her hat is the only bum note in the look--it's too large and too lumpy up top, but that was the fashion. As the show progresses, she's going to emerge as the clotheshorse of the Sisters Three. Her clothes will always be the most stylish and au courant. She favors elegant clothing with clean lines and minimal ornament. As the eldest daughter, she probably gets first crack at the whatever budget her parents have set up for her and her sisters' clothing. 

Edith's outfit is a little more eclectic. She's wearing a skirt, blouse and jacket too, but they aren't as sleek as Mary's, and the lacy shawl collar on blouse is classic Edith--it's feminine and soft with a vaguely floral motif. Edith is the most down-to-earth of the girls, and she often sports flower or plant designs on her clothing. Her hat, with its superfine veil, would look much better with Mary's outfit, so I'm imagining a teenaged fight in the morning before the funeral.

Sybil's outfit looks the most thrown-together.  She's still technically a child, remember, so black wouldn't be an acceptable color for her to wear. In fact, if she were any younger, she'd be dressed in all white for a funeral, but she's just old enough to be given what are probably her sisters' rejects for the day: a dress that doesn't fit her well and a jacket that doesn't match the dress. Her hat, however, is her trademark style: a simple felt proto-cloche (to be replaced with a real cloche when they come into fashion). 

Robert and Murray snipe about "professions" and how awful it is that one's heir should have one. Ugh, jobs.

Servant Scene. Daisy poisons the funeral guests. William is an accessory.

Murray and Robert discuss the entail. Murray's coat collar is fur, and flashier than Robert's, who probably considers fur collars on men irretrievably crass.

Servant Scene. Daisy is saved from the gallows because William doesn't know which chicken to poison and comes down to ask her again. She acts completely insane and only we know why!

Cora greets mourners at the door, dressed in her best black day dress, made more formal by a high netted collar (where have we seen that before, hmm?), a huge ugly brooch (probably a special mourning brooch made of jet, a form of carbon), and a weird embroidered streamer thing over her shoulders.  Maybe it's part of the dress (which actually looks more a blouse and skirt, now that I look closer, but it could just be made to look that way), but it's very old-fashioned either way.

Servant Scene.  Carson decants port and worries about "his" family. Mrs. Hughes cuts corners on the housekeeping (leaving clean sheets on the bed for the next guests? Horrors!) and speculates on the life she could have had.

Servant Scene.  Thomas, coming out of the post office.  Shifty!

Cora takes tea in her sitting room, in another frilly pink gown.  It's probably a tea gown, a loose robe she could wear without stays underneath, to give her a break in the afternoons before lacing up nice and tight for the evening.  I think she just wants to read, but O'Brien wants to express her outrage over the entail, and about Bates' infirmity.  Not very sensitive, O'Brien!

Bates and Robert in the library.  Robert is still in his mourning clothes, Bates has changed into his valeting outfit: striped trousers, black vest, tie, and short jacket, and white shirt.  Hunky-dory.

Servant Scene.  Thomas-O'Brien tête-a-tête, this time with tobacco.  Thomas is dressed in his own clothes, all very typical for working-class men of the time, especially the flat cap.  

The Sisters Three, dressing for dinner.  Actually, they're all dressed, except for Mary, who's getting the finishing touches on her hair from Anna.  Anna is wearing a maid's afternoon/evening uniform: black dress, frilly white apron, and frilly white cap that only barely covers the back of her head, because it's just decorative.

Note how frilly this apron is, too. Trust me, it's a lot more so than the others'.

Mary, as the eldest, has the best dress again: a sparkly beaded layer over an underdress. Edith is wearing a less impressive black dress with no beading or sparkles, and Sybil has some interesting lace sleeves.  Her hair is more elaborately styled, but still down her back. They all have jet necklaces. Right on the nose for late Edwardian mourning formalwear.  

Servant Scene. Thomas being grasping and manipulative, Carson falling for it, all in stiff shirtfronts and white tie.

Semi-Servant Scene. Robert and Bates show each other their stiff upper lips.

Robert (in white tie, of course) goes to Cora as O'Brien finishes dressing her. Her dress is more formal than her daughters', and she has the most elaborate necklace. O'Brien is wearing a pretty chiffon collar over her dress, more formal for evening. As Cora pokes at her hair, you can see she's wearing a diamond engagement ring along with her wedding band.  I question the accuracy of that.

Violet has arrived for dinner, in black, naturally, and dripping with jewels: her bodice is beaded, she's wearing her perpetual choker, and she's added several lariat necklaces to her ensemble.  

Servant Scene. Daisy has weird dreams. No one wants to hear them. Bates flubs a tray and earns everyone's scorn. Everyone helps clear dinner away, except for Thomas and O'Brien, who are "plotting", as Anna astutely points out.

Cora is at the Dower House with Lady Violet. They're both in black, and Cora is extra dressed-up for going out and dealing with the force of nature that is her mother-in-law. Black, black, black, but oh, so stylish. She may have had an old coat dyed, or she may have had a new coat made, but either way, enough time has passed for her to pull together a wardrobe that is nearly as chic as her normal one. Her hat is probably new, too, as it's up-to-the-second fashionable. Love the wide swooping brim and the pointy feathers. The whole outfit insulates her and makes her look more formidable, like armor. Lady Violet is dressed fairly simply, for her, but her bodice is still beaded and her eyes are still beady. 

Cut to a lovely shot of Sybil putting flowers in Mary's hair.  They're getting ready for the Duke of Crowborough's visit, and hey, look at that, they're in half-mourning, i.e., awash in purple, so it must be a few months later.  Then Edith comes in, wearing a printed black blouse and black skirt, and doesn't have a single nice thing to say. Cora comes in to chivvy them downstairs to greet their guest, and she's in a mauve dress with lots of detail on the overskirt and a frilly, high-collared blouse underneath. It looks a lot like her mourning dress from the funeral (also high-necked and unnecessarily fussy), so I'm guessing that she wears these super-conservative styles when she is in full Lady-of-the-Manor role: greeting guests and being as noble as noble can be. We'll get a look at all their dresses below.

Servant Scene. Carson is in heaven, although I can't imagine it's the first time a duke has come to visit. He overdoes it a bit, sneering at Daisy for asking to go out with the rest of the staff and trying his best to get Bates to stay hidden away like a good cripple. Bitchy Thomas is bitchy.

The Duke rolls up in high style: a blue and gold motor-coach.  Can't get any more regal than that, unless the thing was actually royal purple. He descends (with Robert, who presumably met him at the station), and look at that, we have our first script mistake!  Cora greets him as "Duke", and not "Your Grace".  TOTALLY WRONG.  Fellowes is a baron, he really should know this.  Maybe Elizabeth McGovern muffed the line but the take was so good they decided to use it anyway.  

Source.

So here we have Robert (note the half-mourning burgundy tie--manlier than mauve!), the Duke in an unremarkable but probably top-of-the-line overcoat and suit, a barely-visible Cora (you can see the detail on her dress), Mary in a mauve, cream and gray ensemble that's very chic (especially the drape-y blouse and those pearls), Sybil in a lilac dress that's straddling the line between adult and child (note the schoolgirlish white collar and cuffs), and dour old Edith, still in black and in the back.  She's really set apart from her sisters and mother here; the dark outfit makes her look very out of place, which is probably how she feels a lot of the time.

The Duke and Mary are left to entertain themselves (or each other, heh heh), which I can't imagine would be allowed. Surely she'd be chaperoned by her mother or one of her sisters at all times, even with a duke. But whatever. Off they go to the servants' quarters. Poor Mary has no idea how she's being used, or she'd never play with her pearls so coyly.  

Robert and Cora hang out in the drawing room with their hobbies. Cora's crewelwork manages to match her dress AND the room perfectly. It makes her seem very much at home and a part of her surroundings. 

The Duke creeps out Mary. Mary creeps out Bates. Bates tries to creep out the Duke by staring at him. I don't think it works.

Servant Scenes: Carson complains about Bates. He feels the honor of Downton is at stake when a maid serves at table. William is homesick. Mrs. Hughes is kind. She's also wearing a different dress, more formal, probably in the Duke's honor. Bates and Robert stiff-upper-lip each other again. I don't think we've seen Robert's silver watch chain before.  Everyone's prettying up for the Duke.

Dinner upstairs. Cora calls the Duke, "Duke". AGAIN. WHAT THE HELL, FELLOWES. I can't stay mad at her for long, though, because she's very glamourous in her diadem and dress, which is probably the best one she owns. It's a little racy, too, with that low, straight-across bodice giving us a hint of--I don't even know what to call that. Upper-boob? Topside-boob? Edith, the bitch, brings up the attic ramblings, and the Dowager, in all her finery (including a jet diadem--glamorous but still appropriate for mourning. Beat that for propriety!), tries to turn the conversation away from the indiscretion. It doesn't work. Mary is all tricked out again tonight to catch a duke. That necklace has to be seen to be believed. She's got feathers in her hair, too. She is not about to be shown up by her nasty younger sister, so she manages to shut her up. All the women except the Dowager are in black and gray--no half-mourning at dinner, apparently. Lady Violet is in maroon, but she's old. She can do what she likes.

Source.

Servant Scene. Bates and Anna cry, although not in front of each other.

Robert and the Duke talk over cigars. The Duke is a crafty bastard. He figures out what he needs to know, slips away from Mary after pissing off her father, and goes off to canoodle with Thomas. We all know how that ends. In his room he wears a rich mahogany silk dressing gown, half open to expose his manly chest. Thomas is still in his stiff livery, although he's removed his jacket. The Duke has all the power here. He blends into the room like he owns it, which he could if he wanted.

Source. Not the best view of the costume, but the only one I could find.

Servant Scene. Mrs. Hughes and Carson, disappointed over the lack of marriage proposal from the Duke. Carson defends Mary because Mary's his favorite. Awww.

Robert and Cora get ready for bed. Cora practically blends into the bedclothes in that nice soft nightgown. Robert does too, with his khaki pajamas, once he takes off his robe. They ought to, it's their house and their bed.

Dawn at Downton.  Robert is in some weird-looking tweeds. Did grown men really wear plus-fours? I guess he's off to see to the estate today, now that a ducal marriage is off the table. Cora sees the duke out and calls him "Duke" a third time. That's it. I'm too tired to be outraged. She snarks at him that the girls would have been up to see him off if only they'd known he was going to (be such an ass and) leave early (as soon as he knew there was no money in marrying Mary). Her dress is elegant and royal purple; now who's in charge?  

Bates is ready to go as well, but what's this? Robert has had a change of heart? Bates can stay? It wasn't right, Carson, it just wasn't right! And now we see the meaning of those tweeds: under his overcoat (dark, like Carson's coat, because he's a servant first), Bates' suit is the very same color as Robert's, and his tie is a mirror image of Robert's, the colors exactly switched. He's Robert's true companion after all!

Final scene: a nice house in Manchester, a mother and son eating breakfast, a black-bordered letter; ladies and gents, get ready to meet Bachelor Numero Uno: Matthew Crawley! He's in a nice boring suit, but not as nice as the suits he'll be getting soon! His mother is the embodiment of middle-aged, middle-class comfort in her printed dress, frilly blouse, and semi-precious brooch.  Their lives are going to change. Smash to black.

Well there we have it, folks. Stay tuned for Episode Two!