It is time, I believe, to bring back mourning. Not mourning as in grieving – that has never left us, nor will while this world lasts – but the clothing which denotes its presence.
The West is not very good at either of them, for the most part. We expect people to “get over it” or “move on” in not much more than the standard three days bereavement leave, and as for the clothes – well. When I tell you there is a company offering such products as tees and tank tops with slogans like “live, love, grieve”, “grief vibes” and “grieving AF”, you will see how far we have come from the days when mourning clothing was both dignified and generally recognized.
This can in part be blamed on the mass deaths of the World Wars – very bad for morale, living in a sea of visible loss – and, going further back than that, the Victorians. The Victorians were huge supporters of people taking time to mourn, but rather overdid it with their strict codification of mourning which was not necessarily connected with your actual emotions. (Not to mention the annoyance when some sour old distant relation dies the moment you get a new outfit, thus preventing you wearing it while it’s still in fashion.)
I do not propose that we return to the suffocating etiquette of the nineteenth century, but that we reintroduce a shared visual vocabulary of loss. To that end, a few suggestions.
Grief varies in intensity over time (hopefully in an overall lightening trend). Mourning clothes should reflect this.
Deep mourning – for losses that are significant and profoundly impacting your ability to function – is black. Unrelieved, unornamented black.
Ordinary mourning – for losses that are not quite so close, or when the fog of grief is lifting enough to allow basic functioning to resume – is black, but not entirely unrelieved black. Touches of white, perhaps, or silver, or subdued ornamentation.
Half-mourning – for when you are nearly ready to rejoin the rest of the world and resume whatever normal life looks like – is a gradation through black and white to greys and dark or pastel purples.
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Unlike the Victorians, we shall not prescribe lengths for each stage and degree – minimum or otherwise – nor insist that they should form a tidy linear progression.
Because grief is not like that. One day you may feel up to going to a friend’s birthday party; the next you may feel you will burst into tears if someone says “hi, how are you?” Your clothing should be able to aid you in communicating this, without you having to go out with “Fragile: Handle With Care” literally plastered across your chest.
Side note: as bereavement leave is so short, it would be nice if jobs where you aren’t interacting face to face – i.e. people cannot see your clothes – had some way of signposting that you are a person managing grief at present, like black edged notepaper used to do.
Black armbands are a traditional sign of mourning for those whose work requires a uniform.
Of course, the moment you have suffered a loss is probably not the time you want to go shopping for a new wardrobe (unless you are a passionate devotee of retail therapy). Nor does it seem appropriate to go shopping when a loss seems imminent. So unless you have enough black you can mix and match already in your wardrobe, you may like to assemble a small set of mourning clothes to have on hand. I have a drawer which has a dress, a couple of skirts, two or three tops, a cardigan and a scarf.
I know what you are all thinking. “This is all very well, but what if you are a goth?”
Well, it depends on what kind of goth you are, but I have seen few goths for whom plain unadorned black would not be a change. And if you are one such, consider deuil blanc – white mourning, as worn by French queens, and Queen Elizabeth (later the Queen Mother) on her 1938 tour of France. White mourning is traditionally also worn by children (perhaps trimmed with a little black) and sometimes by those mourning the loss of a child.
Another alternative to black is soft grey, like the lady of Indianapolis whose late husband objected strongly to the idea of her wearing black for him.
The key of mourning clothes is to signify that you are in a different condition to usual. If your usual clothing message is “check out me and my fine self” then the fact that your clothing has become more sober and serious may say “mourning” even if it’s in dove grey rather than black. (A bodycon dress, let it be noted, is never mourning, regardless of its colour or lack thereof, and the same goes for hotpants.)
For many people, patterned black wouldn’t look like mourning; for others, usually seen in a riot of colour, the fact that it’s black is enough to tell onlookers that something is amiss with them.
Mourning clothes should work for you and your life. Give thought to what you will find most comforting. Soft cuddly oversized clothes that gently cocoon you, or something more fitting and structured that will hold you together? Would you find it helpful to make something yourself – knitting a big black wrap, for example? Either way, pockets are a must for those inevitable hankies (white, with perhaps a narrow black edging or trim).
Jewellery is traditionally not worn in deep mourning – bling? at a time like this?? – but ordinary mourning can be lightly accessorized with jewellery that is black (e.g. jet or hematite) or colourless (silver, pearls etc). Half mourning brings in its own colours.
If you find yourself sick of black at any point, take it as a sign of returning life and consider if it’s time to start moving into a lighter stage of mourning. On the other hand, if you find you aren’t getting past the stage of not coping with life, it may be time to seek some non-wardrobe help.
Mourning clothes, after all, are not intended as a permanent aesthetic choice, but as a tool of unspoken communication to cushion you through a difficult time.