Trained in Paris, Neillí Mulcahy was seen as a standard bearer for the new Ireland of the 1950s and 1960s. Now the public can get a unique insight into the workings of her distinctly Irish haute couture salon, writes Liz Clery
They were the Posh and Becks of their time. When designer Neillí Mulcahy married solicitor Tom Bacon they stopped traffic as gardaí marshalled the crowds. Such was the interest in the Minister for Education's daughter's wedding, vehicles came to a halt while her 450 guests walked from the Church of Our Lady of Refuge, in Rathmines, to her parents' home nearby.
Mulcahy is an extraordinary woman, a product of extraordinary times. Although her haute-couture salon closed almost 37 years ago, when you meet this fascinating woman, days before the opening of an exhibition at the National Museum of Ireland that celebrates her life and work, it is as if time has melted away.
This most Irish of designers is in the thick of things. Models, garments, accessories and invitation lists are once again on her agenda.
That Mulcahy is hands-on and organised is not surprising when one considers her background. Both her parents and their families played an important part in the foundation of the State. Mulcahy's mother, Min Ryan, and her aunt Phyllis were members of Cumman na mBan, were messengers during the Easter Rising and were at the General Post Office on Thursday of Easter week. Ryan was friends with Seán MacDiarmada, a signatory of the Proclamation of Independence. He asked Min to visit him in Kilmainham Gaol the day before his execution, and they would likely have married had he not died.
Mulcahy's father, Gen Richard Mulcahy, was chief of staff of the Irish Volunteers from March 1918, working closely with men such as Michael Collins. Politically active women such as Neillí's mother and aunts worked alongside the men in equality. Min ran the home, Lissenfield House, in the heart of Rathmines village, where she raised hens and grew vegetables that she served at many dinners hosted there during her husband's long political career.
Coming from a line of educated nationalist working women, it is unsurprising that Mulcahy continued as a groundbreaker and, to some extent, was seen as a standard-bearer for a new Ireland. Even the girls in her mother's family had university educations, most unusual in Ireland at the turn of the century. Mulcahy is passionate about her involvement in education: she taught at Grafton Academy of Dress Designing in 1946 and continues her involvement, as adviser and external examiner, to this day.
When asked why she donated her archive to the National Museum, she is emphatic that she wishes to see this historically rich collection - a lifetime's worth of garments, photographs, and Irish and international press coverage, plus hundreds of objects associated with an haute-couture salon and workshop - made available for future research. She hopes the exhibition will prove an inspiration and teaching tool for students and teachers alike.
It is sometimes strange how life comes full circle. Collins Barracks, where the exhibition will be on show for at least a year, was handed over to Mulcahy's father as a symbol of the transfer of power in 1922. It is also where I first met Mulcahy, when I was working there on a fashion show. She took an interest in my students and wondered if they might have some use for the bolts of fabric in her attic. I remember the excitement I felt when I realised what the archive contained. I was thrilled by the drawers of boned evening dresses and Youghal lace worn in the presence of world leaders. It soon became obvious that the contents of the attic - and Mulcahy herself - deserved further study.
I still see that excitement in the faces of those experiencing the material for the first time. The quality of workmanship is a result of Mulcahy's training in the late 1940s in Paris; she left her post at the academy to study and work there.
Because of her father's position as minister for education, and as the second World War had just ended, this shy, sheltered young woman was placed under the watchful eye of the Irish Embassy, on Avenue Foch. She was soon mixing in the best circles and was offered a job as a workroom assistant at the haute-couture house of Jacques Heim, where she learned to hand-finish seams, hems and edges. She made buttonholes, tacked on interlinings, and made shoulder pads to measure. Mulcahy was highly skilled, and when she had her workroom she trained many of the girls to this high standard.
Her clients always speak firstly of the high standard of her workmanship. As one customer, Helen McDonnell, said: "Her finish was immaculate . . . Once Neillí closed her doors we never got the same again."
On October 2, 1951, after returning to Ireland, Mulcahy opened a salon at 30 South Frederick Street in Dublin. From the beginning she was a great favourite with the press. By 1952 she had already begun to win design awards.
Her first big break came in June 1952, when she was asked to dress her aunt Phyllis, wife of President Seán T Ó Ceallaigh, for his second inauguration, in St Patrick's Hall at Dublin Castle. When it was announced that Phyllis was to accompany her husband in 1959 on the first visit to the US by an Irish head of state, Mulcahy was the obvious choice of designer for Mrs Ó Ceallaigh's wardrobe.
Mulcahy held her first formal fashion show in her parents' home in March 1957. She had already started to translate Parisian trends and silhouettes for her Irish and American customers, and she was perceived as the first truly Irish designer, because of the way she presented herself and her work - with, for example, a huge emphasis on Irish fabrics and on naming each garment after somewhere in Ireland. But she was essentially Paris-based in styling, and she designed for the modern woman.
Even the fabrics she used were new developments, such as the gossamer tweed she used in her eveningwear.
She seemed to have an instinct for public relations. She anticipated the needs of the press, and she knew that journalists love two things: a beautiful photograph and a good story. Mulcahy provided both from the outset.
She remembers that "models were a certain type of girl". The girls were expected to circulate in society, and they had to be content not to make too much money in the beginning. Mulcahy had her favourites among the models. She thought Grace O'Shaughnessy "oozed femininity and was a natural". Rosemarie Scully had a tremendous serenity and ladylike poise, her photographic work was outstanding, and her personality showed in the photographs. Rosemarie later married Mulcahy's brother Seán.
Mulcahy and her husband have seven daughters; that she was a working woman and mother in 1950s Ireland was much commented on in the press. Her early career coincided with the international fashion world's focus on Dublin brought about by Sybil Connolly. Ireland was also popular as a destination for transatlantic air passengers from the US, who were drawn by what they perceived as the simplicity of life and by a favourable exchange rate.
As her career developed and lifestyles changed, Mulcahy's look adapted, too. It was in the 1960s that her true talent in cut and form emerged, redolent of her Parisian training in draping. It is a show of true sophistication of cut and form when the silhouette and detailing are at a minimum and the silhouette is paramount.
She travelled the country, participating in fashion shows, judging competitions and making what we would today call celebrity appearances. She also toured the US with her collections and designed uniforms for the prestigious clients such as Aer Lingus and Allied Irish Banks.
Fashion changed dramatically in the final years of the 1960s. The boom in ready-to-wear clothing, particularly jeans, hit haute-couture houses worldwide. Mulcahy was faced with starting to produce clothing on an industrial scale, or closing her business. She chose the latter. "I was not a production manager," she said. "It was the fabrics and the hand-making of garments I loved. So I packed up and closed the doors. I wanted to spend more time with my family and watch the girls grow up."
Her generosity is legendary. An old friend who studied nursing with one of her daughters says: "You knew you always had a place to call for a chat and a bowl of soup. Last year, at her and Tom's 50th wedding anniversary, we were all there, and Neillí made a point of going around and talking to everybody."
Those many friends will be there to celebrate her life at Collins Barracks, with the original models wearing the Neillí Mulcahy creations in which they were photographed in the 1960s.
"Neillí Mulcahy's archive and collection are a further recognition of 20th-century design and social history," said Pat Wallace, director of the National Museum. "The exhibition encapsulates Neillí's belief in Irish materials, and her family's strong identity with furthering Irish culture, crafts and employment. It evokes the self-belief, dignity and sophistication of Neillí's generation."
Neillí Mulcahy: Irish Haute Couture of the 50s and 60s opens next Wednesday at the National Museum of Ireland, Collins Barracks, Dublin. Liz Clery is writing a book about Mulcahy