When you want to organise a photoshoot paying homage to the film and the book Frankenstein in a highly exclusive Parisian landmark, how do you go about it?
You arrive at 8 am in the morning.
You arrive at 8 am in the morning because the place will be quiet, and also, let me gently remind you, there is a day job to take care of.
You arrive with your best friend Virginie, who is a costume historian and owns several shops at the Paris flea market.
You arrive with garment bags and huge totes you could practically fit into, in which Virginie has stuffed everything that seemed relevant to her: dresses, skirts, corsets, ribbons, hats, feathers, veils, and fishnet gloves.
After examining several potential outfits, our preference goes to an 1850 wedding dress, which seems perfect to evoke the truly spectacular bridal gown worn by Elizabeth, the character played by Mia Goth, in Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein.
The film’s costume designer, Kate Hawley, is indeed exceptionally talented and every costume in the film is simply magnificent.
The wedding dress worn by Elizabeth is an echo of the Creature’s primal nudity, with its bandages on the bodice and arms.
The dress echoes the bandages and the skeletal structure of the creature. We built it like him: from the inside out. Five layers of organza, a Swiss-ribbon bodice placed on the outside rather than underneath, because at that point in the film Elizabeth reflects the creature more than Victor. The ribbons around her arms are also a subtle homage to Frankenstein (1931) and The Bride of Frankenstein (1935).”
Interview with Kate Hawley for Vogue
The result is magical, because – as any great costume designer – Kate Hawley is cultured, nourished by multiple artistic references, and she places her entire talent at the service of the director’s vision.
Still, when you want to organise a photoshoot paying homage to the film and the book Frankenstein in a highly exclusive Parisian landmark, how do you manage it when you have neither the budget nor the prep time allocated to a major international production?
You adapt.
First you try to squeeze into a 1850s dress that was originally worn with a corset, and whose narrow waist has nothing to do with the waist of a woman of today.
The waist fits, but now the upper back is too tight. Never mind – it won’t be fastened or photographed, the main point was being able to close the waist.
(Indeed, the upper back won’t fit)
After this first… victory comes the ordeal of the bandages. Virginie found meters and meters of antique ribbon, which she proceeds to lace for… twenty minutes.
Meanwhile, I try to attach a homemade jumble of brooches and chains – thanks to my favourite Monoprix supermarket – onto my bodice (I should have attached it higher, it annoys me when I look at the photos, but oh well) to recreate Elizabeth’s wedding jewellery.
Elizabeth’s coral necklace is easier to reproduce: two modern necklaces layered together, embellished with an antique cross Virginie found – and attached to the necklaces thanks to… a dental elastic (I am not skillful with my hands, but I constantly have outrageous ideas that, surprisingly, often work.)
The cross keeps getting caught in the ribbon and disappearing, or else it tilts sideways despite Virginie doing her best to put it back in place (it annoys me when I look at the photos, but oh well).
There we are. With zero budget, barely a week of preparation, but unlimited enthusiasm, we give you our Elizabeth.
(I want to sleep)
For more on Frankenstein, it’s right here.
December 30, 2025
