The Iconic Wrap Dress

Vintage Diane von Furstenberg dress (similar)
Le Chateau sandals (c/o) (similar)
Zara handbag (similar)
Celine sunglasses
Mango earrings
Location: Winnipeg Art Gallery – Winnipeg, Manitoba

Early in my fashion education – by which I mean in my first few years of reading every issue of Vogue from cover to cover – I learned about Diane Von Furstenburg’s wrap dress. The description of that effortless seventies essential, which was reported to be universally flattering and versatile enough for day or night with a simple shoe change, captivated my attention. I needed one. I mean, I must, if Vogue spoke of it so highly.

The wrap dress remained widely available even then, but was well outside of my baby-sitting money budget. And while I was convinced that I needed one, teenaged me already owned a closet full of impractical dresses and precious few occasions to wear them. So I bided my team. But the classic wrap dress was always in the back of my mind.

When I entered the corporate world in my early twenties, all those dresses in my closet finally served a purpose. And moving to Vancouver meant access to all kinds of brands that had previously only existed between the pages of magazines for me, including Diane Von Furstenburg. The Bay stocked the wrap dresses I’d long dreamt over in an array of patterns and colours. But when I finally tried one on, my hopes were dashed – not because it didn’t fit, but because it simply didn’t live up to its promise. The cut was only okay, the drape of the fabric a bit frumpy. I expected magic, but the dress delivered mediocrity.

That’s not to say I gave up on my wrap dress dreams. In fact, I tried different versions of the dress on repeatedly over the years – at Century 21 in New York, Saks in Chicago and Nordstrom in Seattle, just for a start. But the effect was always the same; an okay dress at an inflated price point. I forgave Vogue for misleading me, since I can also credit their writers with convincing me to try skinny jeans, but it wasn’t easy.

These days, I work from my home office – when I meet with clients, a full suit is a wardrobe requirement, while I most wear workout clothes at home. My days in dresses are few and far between. But I still have a closet full of dresses, my teenaged love for them still going strong. I buy new ones every year, particularly in the summer months. But I didn’t expect I’d ever own a Diane Von Furstenburg wrap dress. Or that I’d ever bother to try one on again.

That is, until I found myself wandering among the crowded racks of Buffalo Exchange in Minneapolis during our June trip. It was a grey day, and rain had just begun to fall. I wanted to browse the store, but found myself dawdling longer than planned in the hopes of staying dry, looking at pieces I would normally never pay attention to, like a brown printed dress… which, I noticed, seemed to have a very old tag in it. The kind of tag that I normally only see on garments I’ve permanently borrowed from my mom’s closet. It was a bit yellowed, and loosened with years of wear. But it said the three magic words: Diane Von Furstenburg.

“I think this is vintage,” I whispered to Ian, lest someone else overhear and swoop in to snag my dress. “Like, actual vintage.”

I had to try it on. But my expectations remained low. After all, I’ve been disappointed often. My fitting room foray that day started poorly, with ill-fitting Levi’s and an oversized sweater that proved to be a full dress on my petite frame. It didn’t bode well. But then I slipped the old dress on and wrapped the ties around my waist. That’s when the magic that I’ve waited half a lifetime for suddenly, finally, happened.

The dress was, in a word, perfect. Made of a soften, woven silk, it draped perfectly, accentuating body parts I like and minimizing the ones that I don’t. It looked, almost, like it was made just for me. Taking all of that into consideration, the price, just twenty-eight dollars, seemed to good to be true. I practically sprinted to the cash register with it, still worried someone else might want to snatch it from me. (My fears were, of course, entirely misplaced – all the other shoppers were teenagers searching for denim shorts and crocheted crop tops.)

I would have loved to add this dress to my wardrobe years ago, when I had more reasons to wear it. But I always find the best things are worth waiting for, even if it doesn’t always feel that way during the wait. I would gladly spend another fifteen years passively searching if it meant finding another dress this perfect.

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