Dress Codes: From saintly to sexy, why we wear lace

<i>Taylor Hill/FilmMagic/Getty Images via CNN Newsource</i><br/>Lily Allen at the 2025 CFDA Awards in November in a sheer look.

By CNN Newsource

Published December 24, 2025 3:15 AM

By Elyssa Goodman, CNN

New York (CNN) — In a windowless room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Antonio Ratti Textile Center, several swaths of lace hundreds of years old are spread out on a giant expanse of black paper. The tiniest of stitches have been formed into circles, swirls and even animals, some of which took years to make by hand with painstaking precision.

In previous centuries, making lace even a few feet long would have required a years-long commitment. Today, it can be produced much faster by machine, and over the past year, was seen all over fashion week runways including those of Chloé and Fendi. During the holiday season, lace styles are particularly popular – adding a touch of sexiness or sophistication to partywear.

Lace historian Elena Kanagy-Loux traces lace’s origins to the late 15th century, when it was likely used on a smaller scale “as these tiny, little, kind of minor, pointed edgings and trimmings,” she said. What started as a “little decorative ornament” later became more elaborate and subsequently a status symbol, costly because of its laborious creation process, not to mention its intricacy and fragility, she explained.

Lace was not something a garment needed. As the 17th century English historian Thomas Fuller declared, the fabric was “superfluous wearing, because it doth neither hide nor heat, seeing it doth adorn.” The ability to wear it on one’s clothing, especially in places like collars and cuffs where it could easily become dirty, was a powerful pronouncement of one’s stature, Kanagy-Loux said. Not only did one require the means to afford lace, one also needed the resources to maintain it.

At one point, lace became so in demand that it was regulated by 16th and 17th century sumptuary laws “restricting extravagance in consumer goods,” according to the Smithsonian Institution. These kinds of laws were not uncommon — there were also limits on velvet, gold embroidery, and satin, among other textiles — but the bans didn’t always work and smuggling became an active part of lace’s history.

With the Industrial Revolution’s arrival in the 19th century, rudimentary machines attempted to duplicate the fabric’s delicate stitches, but to no avail. Kanagy-Loux notes that Luddites, British weavers and textile workers who protested against the mechanization of their craft, even took to smashing lace machines. And while many lacemakers eventually found themselves out of a job at the hands of industrialization, handmade and antique lace subsequently became more valuable.

With the onset of World War I, some lacemakers in Belgium found success in keeping their practice alive by making American-commissioned “war lace” — lace featuring Allied symbology — during German occupation. But interest in it faded some 10 years later, with the onset of the Great Depression. There became less effort and attention paid to lacemaking, and it developed “fuddy-duddy associations” in the latter half of the 20th century, according to Kanagy-Loux. For a long time, a common stereotype in parts of the West was that only elderly ladies made the fabric, but this was only partly true as it would have been a skill they picked up in their youth and didn’t give up, she explained.

While lace would fall in and out of popularity in subsequent decades, it continued to be used in bridal attire and lingerie. Lace had been used as trimming on linen undergarments, but the pieces got smaller over time, morphing from long-sleeved constructions into “a little nylon slip.” As technology evolved, clothing became more fitted and made from thinner materials, so underwear naturally became sexy, Kanagy-Loux said. Sexiness also increased the demand for lace.

When Kanagy-Loux first started posting videos on TikTok, where she shares lace history with over 400,000 followers, some commenters said they didn’t like lace because it often felt “scratchy.” She attributes this to the way cheap, fast fashion lace is produced nowadays, where the end result “is really kind of junk, and then disintegrates in the wash after a few wears.”

Interestingly, the speed at which lace can be made, even if it’s low quality, is affecting how higher quality lace is made. Many couture houses don’t use handmade lace anymore because their clients don’t want to wait for it to be produced, according to Kanagy-Loux. Yet, while a greater number of high-end designers have turned to machines, all machine lace is not created equal because of the difference in the machines’ production quality, she added, pointing to Leavers lace as an “exquisite” example.

Leavers lace, famed for its intricate designs and coveted by high-end fashion houses, is made on specific machines that require five- to seven-year-long apprenticeships to learn their operation. But these machines are no longer being made, so the production of Leavers lace could decrease over time. In fact, the textile has become so valuable that Chanel acquired a stake in the French Leavers lace manufacturer Sophie Hallette in 2016 to maintain its own lace production.

As lace production moves ahead, it’s possible that AI won’t be part of its future. While lace patterns can be made in the likes of Photoshop, for example, the physical production of lace via artificial intelligence isn’t widespread, said Kanagy-Loux, who is currently pursuing a doctorate at the Bard Graduate Center, researching the fabric in more depth. “Genuinely, no one is working on that…that just isn’t realistic, because there’s no demand for it.”

Rather, lace’s destiny may lie in the hands of artisans like Kanagy-Loux and her colleagues at the Brooklyn Lace Guild, which she co-founded with fiber artist Ellyane Hutchinson. The New York-based organization holds lacemaking workshops and puts on exhibitions and events to help preserve the craft.

Kanagy-Loux says that the act of making lace is a way to reconnect in an era of “hyper-fast consumerist culture.”

“You really have to sit down and do puzzles in your head in this way that is really challenging, and then you end up with a beautiful piece of lace at the end.

“It’s a fantastic way to connect with yourself in your own body, to connect with your own hands and your fine motor skills…I just highly recommend lace making to anyone who feels like they’re untethered in the world.”