Dressing the Stage and Screen: A History of Costuming in Theatre and Film
My darlings, have you ever wondered how the decisions came about for your favourite character's wardrobe? Why do they have a specific colour palette? Why do they dress in a certain way? Why does it have an importance to the story or/and characters? These questions can be simply answered with one simple word: costuming.
Costume has always been more than clothing. It is a language, one that translates character, emotion, and context for audiences who may not share the same tongue. From the masks of Greek tragedy to the digital wardrobes of contemporary cinema, costuming in theatre and film has shaped how we see stories, and in many ways, how we understand ourselves.
Ancient Origins: Ritual, Symbol, and Archetype
Theatre costuming can be traced back to Ancient Greece, where actors wore masks (personae) that exaggerated facial features and emotions to ensure visibility in large amphitheaters. Each mask symbolized a type: the tragic hero, the fool, the god (Wiles, 2007). In Japan, Noh theatre developed similarly codified costumes in the 14th century, layering embroidered silk robes with symbolic colors to denote rank, gender, and emotional states (Kawatake, 2003).
The Renaissance and the Rise of Realism
By the Renaissance, theatre shifted toward opulence and spectacle. In Shakespeare’s Globe, actors often wore contemporary Elizabethan dress, with sumptuary laws restricting who could wear what fabrics onstage (Orgel, 2002). In Italy, the commedia dell’arte established costumes as identifiers of stock characters like Harlequin and Columbina, setting the foundation for comedic archetypes still referenced in fashion and theatre today.
Nineteenth Century: Historical Accuracy vs. Theatricality
The 19th century introduced a tension between historical authenticity and theatrical stylization. Charles Kean, staging Shakespeare in London, sought to recreate period dress with archaeological accuracy, while elsewhere designers like Eugène Louis Lami emphasized visual extravagance over fidelity (Laver, 1969). This duality still echoes in debates around film and stage costuming. Should costumes transport us to the past faithfully, or should they entangle with the drama of the present?
The Birth of Cinema and the Hollywood Dream Factory
With the arrival of film in the early 20th century, costume design found new terrain. Silent film required costumes that could communicate loudly in black and white. Designers like Travis Banton and Orry-Kelly helped define Hollywood glamour, with Banton designing Marlene Dietrich’s sleek suits and Orry-Kelly shaping Bette Davis’ iconic silhouettes (Landis, 2012). By mid-century, Edith Head became synonymous with costume design, winning a record eight Academy Awards and dressing stars from Grace Kelly to Audrey Hepburn.
Modernism, Avant-Garde, and Fantasy
The late 20th century saw costume design expand into avant-garde artistry. Eiko Ishioka’s surreal work in Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992) fused haute couture with theatrical excess, while Colleen Atwood’s gothic sensibilities in Edward Scissorhands (1990) reshaped cinematic fantasy. In theatre, Julie Taymor’s The Lion King (1997) demonstrated how costume could blend puppetry, fashion, and ritual symbolism to create an immersive experience.
Digital Age: Virtual Wardrobes and Couture Crossovers
Today, costuming overlaps in both digital and physical worlds. CGI allows designers to build garments that defy physics, as in Marvel’s superhero franchises. At the same time, couture fashion houses collaborate directly with film productions: think of Jean Paul Gaultier’s work on The Fifth Element (1997) or Prada’s collaboration on The Great Gatsby (2013). Theatre too embraces hybridity, with productions like Hamilton blending 18th-century silhouettes with contemporary streetwear influences.
Personal Favorites: Costumes that Shaped the Way We See Characters
For me, some of the most iconic examples of costuming in theatre and film prove how clothes can embody not just a character, but an entire philosophy.
A Streetcar Named Desire (Theatre, Blanche DuBois): Blanche’s white dresses are never just garments; they are metaphors. The white fabric, often fragile and sheer, mirrors her delusion of innocence and purity, a desperate to cling to her Southern Belle ideals in a world moving past her. As critic Brenda Murphy notes, Blanche’s “costume is a veil of self-deception” (Murphy, 1992). Her wardrobe communicates her fragility just as clearly as the dialogue.
Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Film, 1953): Marilyn Monroe’s shocking pink gown in “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” may be the most referenced costume in Hollywood history. Designed by William Travilla, it exaggerated Monroe’s curves while making her into a pop-cultural archetype: the ultimate material girl. The gown was camp before camp became theory.
Cinderella (Live Action, 2015): Sandy Powell’s design for Lily James’ ballgown embodies maximalist fantasy. Layers upon layers of organza and silk create the illusion of light itself stitched into fabric, while its iridescent hues shift in motion, making Cinderella appear both human and otherworldly. Powell herself described it as “a gown that could only exist in a fairytale” (Powell, 2015).
The Love Witch (Film, 2016): Anna Biller’s retro costuming is a feast of saturated colors, beaded caftans, and witchy glamour. Even if the film itself was uneven, the costumes tell their own story—an intentional homage to 1960s Technicolor melodrama. Elaine, the witch, is both empowered and objectified through her wardrobe, echoing the contradictions of femininity and desire that define the film.
Costume design is never neutral. It reflects cultural attitudes toward class, gender, power, and fantasy. As scholar Deborah Nadoolman Landis (2012) writes, “Costumes are not clothes. They are storytelling.” Costumes signal identity, create atmosphere, and often become as iconic as the characters themselves—Marilyn Monroe’s white dress, Dorothy’s ruby slippers, Darth Vader’s helmet. They endure not just as fabric, but as symbols woven into collective memory.
XOXO, The Fashion Stock Market
Editor: Felicity Field
