Marie Antoinette, history and style of a queen between elegance and tragedy

Marie Antoinette Queen of France for just under 20 years, queen of style and fashion for centuries. She died at the age of 37 on the guillotine, but lived on as a symbol and remains an eternal inspiration for designers, artists, filmmakers and stylists. The Victoria & Albert Museum in London today dedicates an exhibition to the Austrian archduchess who became one of the most talked-about, misunderstood, persecuted and misunderstood queens in history.

Commendable because it avoids the apocryphal clichés of history (such as the infamous but never uttered phrase, 'if they have no bread, let them eat brioche') the exhibition is equally admirable in presenting the 'real' Marie Antoinette. The first part of the exhibition, by far the most extraordinary, takes us back to her time, with dresses, jewellery, furniture, fans and other objects that belonged to the queen, such as her jewellery box, her favourite armchair or her harp, some of which had never been exhibited. Many objects, which were lost in the chaos of the French Revolution, are brought together here for the first time.

'All eyes will be on you', wrote Empress Maria Theresa to her 14-year-old daughter, who was sent to marry the dauphin of France. And so it was: curious eyes, envious eyes, malevolent eyes. The young princess, however, instead of following the rules and conforming to the fashion of the time decided to create her own style. Versailles became her stage, on which she showed off extraordinary dresses, silk creations embroidered and adorned with ribbons and bows, hairstyles that became increasingly complex and sophisticated, silk shoes decorated with diamond buckles.

The V&A shows a whole series of dresses of the era, in iridescent silk à la française, more voluminous à la polonaise, more sober striped à l'anglaise. And the jewellery, diamond cascades, the voluminous hair styles with padding and decorations, the precious fans.

Then came the change of style: Marie Antoinette, who had found her refuge in the faux bucolic world of the Petit Trianon, decided to opt for a simpler look: a ribbon in her loose hair, a straw hat, a white muslin dress. The same she wore in a 1783 portrait by Elizabeth Vigée Le Brun that caused a great scandal at the time ('the queen in déshabillé!' cried the well-wishers) but the chemise à la reine became the height of elegance. So did her choices for the interior, such as porcelain decorated with flowers or toile de jouy. The example of the queen, an influencer ante litteram, was followed by all.