Getty à la Mode

“The past is a foreign country,” as the saying goes. This is strikingly apparent in art that depicts fashions of centuries past—many of which seem bizarre to our modern sensibilities, just as our sunglasses or sneakers will no doubt amuse future generations of fashionistas.

Before photography was invented, drawings, paintings, sculptures, and other mediums captured the stylistic trends of their eras. And so we asked five Getty Museum curators to tell us about objects in the collection that depict some particularly fascinating customs, fashions, and values of more foreign times.

Here’s what they chose.

The princess and her tweezers

What do pop singer Chappell Roan’s 2025 Grammy Awards appearance and the Middle Ages have in common? Hennins, of course!

Perhaps familiar to the average viewer as the purview of fantasy princesses, these iconic conical hats were once a major fashion statement, appearing in the mid-15th century among the nobility. This headgear came in a variety of shapes, from the short and flat-topped to the tall and pointed, and was generally covered with a thin veil. Some of these common forms can be seen in this illumination from a French chronicle. Hennins could also be double-peaked, as in Getty’s Portrait of Isabella of Portugal, duchess of the influential court of Burgundy.

No hennins from the medieval period survive, so little is known about their construction, though they seem to have been made of lightweight fabrics, perhaps stretched over a wire mesh. They’re often pictured with loops at the front, which probably helped the wearer to adjust them.

Hennins were worn off the back of the head to accentuate a high forehead. The adage “beauty knows no pain” is definitely the case here, as some women would even pluck their hairline to give the desired impression of a larger forehead.

—Larisa Grollemond, Department of Manuscripts

A pretty box for things to make you pretty

For many wealthy European men and women in the 17th century, getting ready in the morning (performing la toilette) was an elaborate ritual. In addition to tools like brushes, mirrors, and a basin for washing, a toilette service (the set of objects for use at a dressing table) would include opulent containers of different sizes, like this one in Getty’s collection.

This ornate casket (called carré de toilette in French) held items for personal adornment, including pins, jewelry, sponges, and cosmetics, or hair ornaments like feathers, fake flowers, or ribbons. In this portrait of Madame Marsollier and her daughter, the girl is holding a similar box, an indication of their refined beauty and status.

The container is made of wood but veneered with a variety of precious materials: metals like brass, pewter, and copper, and animal products like seashells, colored horn, ivory, and tortoiseshell. The gilt-bronze fittings and rosewood interior show that the maker spared no expense when decorating this casket.

On the lid, Venus is shown reclining on a chair in a lush outdoor setting, surrounded by a servant brushing her hair and three cupids helping her get ready. The goddess of beauty is an appropriate talisman here, suggesting the potent transformation this box of gentle tools will ensure.

—Amanda Berman, Department of Sculpture and Decorative Arts

Boys in dresses

While nowadays children’s clothing is highly gendered, it was not always the case. In the 18th century, children’s garments did not distinguish between the sexes; they were indicators of age. Switching from one type of outfit to another signified an important milestone in the life of the wearer.

The portrait by the renowned English pastelist Francis Cotes represents two brothers, Joseph (1741–1786) and John (1750–1764) Gulston. According to the custom of the time, John, about four years old, wears a light pink frock consisting of a stiffened bodice that fastens in the back and a skirt. Such ankle-length garments, called short coats, were usually used between the ages of one and six, enabling the child to move freely and making potty training easier. Unlike today, pink was not considered a feminine color and was worn by both males and females. The older brother, Joseph, is dressed like an adult. At age 13, he has already “breeched”—graduated from frocks to trousers. His slashed silk doublet embellished with a lace collar and cuffs, however, is not a regular outfit of the era but a Vandyke, a costume imitating 17th-century court attire seen in portraits by Anthony van Dyck.

—Edina Adam, Department of Drawings

It’s all about the sandals this millenium

A couple caught in a tender encounter decorate this ancient Greek lekythos, a vessel for perfumed oils. The artist added clay on the surface to create detailed—and perhaps gilded—accessories, adorning the couple from head to toe, down to the young woman’s sandals (σάνδαλα), which have thick wooden soles and elaborate straps. With a limited number of shoes surviving from antiquity, objects like this container provide a glimpse into the ancient Greek world of fashionable footwear.

From vibrantly dyed leather to metal clasps, ancient sandals were a customizable form of self-expression for the elite classes. Some even had platform soles, which made whoever wore them appear taller, perhaps reflecting their “high” status—or just a fun trend!

For young women in ancient Greece, shoes were an integral part of the journey from adolescence to adulthood. Each bride received nymphiades, special nuptial footwear, to wear during the wedding procession to her new husband’s home. Aphrodite, the goddess of love, was sometimes depicted tying the laces of a bride’s sandals to help her prepare for marriage. On this lekythos, Aphrodite flies overhead in her chariot led by two erotes (winged gods of love and desire), suggesting that the enamored couple were recently married, or else marking the woman as already married to someone else.

—Hana Sugioka, Department of Antiquities

Oh my god, I love your plooikraag!

In the early 17th-century Netherlands, being properly dressed meant wearing a white collar, or ruff. Its configuration telegraphed volumes about a wearer’s age, status, and aspirations. Despite its rambunctious profile, the ruff shown in this painting—known by the name fraise à la confusion (French for disordered ruff) or plooikraag (Dutch for pleated collar)—would have been relatively light and comfortable. Unlike other ruffs, which required a metal framework to support the starched folds, the plooikraag was created from a long (perhaps 60-inch) piece of cambric linen attached to a soft collar with numerous fine pleats. Here, artist Thomas Hendricksz. de Keyser deftly captures the quality of the semitransparent fabric as well as the opaque stitched edge. The ruff sat lightly over the collar of the doublet and was easily closed at the front with a cord.

The portrayed Amsterdammer would have sent his ruff out only occasionally for cleaning—probably to Haarlem on the coast. There, a thriving industry of linen bleaching specialists washed the unfurled fabric; steeped or boiled it in lye, potash, or even cow dung to remove oils; washed and rinsed it; and aired it flat in the sun on the bleaching fields, repeating steps as necessary over the course of several months to attain the brightest white. Presumably he owned a spare!

—Anne Woollett, Department of Paintings

Next time you stroll through Getty’s galleries, look for the many other fashion trends captured in our collection!