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So close to being done ... for
such a long time! |
Hurrah – something to
feel good about – it is once again Slow Fashion October. While I will be writing more about slow
fashion in my upcoming newsletter (which will go out a little later this week,
so feel free to subscribe to it if you want to read my thoughts, which won’t be
published elsewhere), as well as for the weekly Slotober prompts, I wanted to
kick off the month with a wee announcement as well as an article.
Initially,
the announcement: one of my goals during this year’s slow fashion month is to
finish up a few WIPs I have lying around, begging to be completed, and since I
so very much want to wear these
projects, it fits in nicely with this year’s Slotober overarching theme. They
are two sweaters (a pullover and a cardigan), and I am committed to seeing them
completed. I am going to be hosting a MAL between October 8th and mid-November
in my Ravelry group, and anyone with a WIP of one of my designs is highly
encouraged to join me, so we can commiserate together and get the darn projects
completed.
Additionally,
since one of the WIPs I want to complete is my version of the Aviatrix
Pullover, I thought I would start the month off by publishing – in two parts –
a reworked and slightly expanded version of my article published in last year’s
Knitting Traditions magazine that accompanied the Aviatrix Pullover design.
Baroness Raymonde de La Roche, the first woman to receive a pilot’s license at
the turn of the 20th century, is an amazing shero who has inspired a
few of my designs. Equal parts moxie and determination, she is included in
Leather, Lace, Grit & Grace and has an included crochet design dedicated to
her glass ceiling-shattering life. Without
further ado, I hope you enjoy her story (and maybe she'll inspire you and your
wardrobe choices):
Raymonde
de LaRoche, the Baroness of Flight
 |
Original portrait of Elise Deroche,
mixed media, created for Leather, Lace,
Grit & Grace. |
By the
turn of the 20th century, in the wake of the height of the
Industrial Revolution, European and American inventors began focusing on air
travel, while at the same time certain women found themselves able to escape
traditional Victorian roles for females. Baroness Raymonde de Laroche, born
Elise Deroche in Paris in 1886, embodied these two social phenomena in her
dramatic aviation career.
A
plumber’s daughter, Elise initially trained as a sculptor and artist and made a
name for herself in French theater. She also gave birth to a son in 1903; the
father is unknown. The theater, however, was not what captured Elise’s
imagination and sense of adventure. She embraced the velocipede (the forerunner
of modern bicycles, popular in France and elsewhere since the late 1860s) and
then turned to hot-air balloons. Loving the feeling of flying above the ground,
she became an accomplished balloonist at a time when female balloonists were a
rarity.
Elise’s
first exposure to winged flight came in 1908 when Wilbur Wright gave some
flight demonstrations in Paris. These presentations clearly planted a seed: a
year later, famed aviator and airplane designer Charles Voisin suggested during
a dinner date that she take flight lessons. Harry Harper, one of the earliest
aviation journalists, overheard that portion of the dinner conversation, which went something like
this:
Baroness
Laroche: “I’ve painted portraits, done sculptures, been on stage, driven racing
cars, and made flights in balloons. What more can a girl do?”
Charles
Voisin: “How would you like to do something no woman has done before?”
Baroness
Laroche:” Nothing would appeal more, my dear Charles. What is it?”
Charles
Voisin: “Why not be the first woman in the world to learn to fly an aeroplane?”
A few
days later, after toasting to her new ambition during the dinner date, de Laroche
drove her own car to the Voisin brothers’ airfield at Chalons and instructed
Charles to “Get out one of those Voisins of yours.” She talked down his
objection (“It’s no use you’re having second thoughts. You promised.”)
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Elise’s license from the
Fédération
Aéronautique Internationale,
flying sweater. It was the jumping off point
for my Aviatrix Pullover design.
|
Voisin's plane, like others of that era, was a fragile single-seat affair made with little more than wooden slats, wire, and canvas. Voisin, as flight instructor, stood outside of the plane when Elise took the driver's seat. At one point in their lessons, Charles told Elise to taxi down the airfield, which she did perfectly; a waiting mechanic turned the plane around and she taxied back. Voisin then instructed her to do it again, but not to leave the ground. Elise paid no attention. She opened the throttle and rose about 15 feet in the air, flying a distance of 300 meters. She was airborne - Elise said yes to the lessons, to flying, and to the love affair that developed between her and Charles. On March 8, 1910, less than two years after getting her first taste of flight during that Wilbur Wright demonstration, the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale (FAI) awarded Droche license number 36, calling her "Mme. de Laroche" - the first aviator's license earned by a woman.
 |
The Baroness in the cockpit. Photo: National Air &
Space Museum Archives, Smithsonian Institution. |
While France seemed relatively friendly to women
pilots when compared to attitudes and
conditions in other countries, Elise also
had two advantages in her quest to fly—her lover Voisin offered flying lessons,
and some French flight schools permitted female students. European society
generally (as well as other societies) frowned upon female pilots and few male
instructors were willing to teach women, making Elise’s advantages all the more
important. Additionally, those women who were accepted as students still faced
obstacles in France: notably that some schools would only accept women after
the female student signed a document waiving all instructor liability in case
of accident or death. Once accepted, some women then traveled long distances
(in certain instances, many miles on foot) to and from out-of-the-way venues
for their lessons. Although Flight’s
October 1909 news story complimented Elise’s ability, it opened with a
complaint that perfectly captured these attitudes: “Yet another sphere which
some had thought man would, for some time, at any rate, retain for his own has
been invaded by the gentler sex.”
Despite the prevailing cultural attitudes of the time, many women traveled to France at the turn of the century, taking flying lessons and earning the all-important FAI license (the FAI still issues licenses today). Their American numbers included Bessie Coleman, the first African American of either sex to earn a pilot's license.
France also took the lead in promoting aviation generally. In 1909 (just as Elise was learning to fly), aviators gathered for the first-ever international public flying event, the Grande Semaine d’Aviation de la Champagne in Reims. For a week in the sweltering French August heat, nearly all the prominent male pilots of the time competed in various distance and time events before crowds totaling half a million people. Corporate sponsors included several local champagne makers; they offered prize money totally more than 175,000 francs (more than $750,000) for the winners of these events. The excellent attendance numbers and enthusiastic sponsorship made it clear that aviation was becoming a popular spectator sport. Additionally, since these meets also became the venue in which male pilots, mechanics, designers, and builders tested their aircraft in a spirit of camaraderie, it also became an excellent testing ground and established the viability of flight as future potential transport.
Just
four months after Elise received her FAI license (and competed pre-licensure in
the Heliopolis meet in Cairo in February, 1910, in which she was one of three
pilots - and the only woman in the entire field of participants - to win prize
money flying a Voisin Antoinette 50 ch.), the second Grande Semaine d’Aviation
took place in July, 1910, again in Reims, France. Of course the Baroness flew a
Voisin biplane in several events. Prize monies had increased to 250,000 francs,
and the number of participating pilots had doubled.
 |
My modern take on Elise's flying
pullover, worked up in bulky weight
superwash wool. Nothing she wore
would have spared her injury during
the second Grand Semaine meet in
Reims in 1910. |
At this
meet, pilots made gains in distances and heights flown, yet it was marred by
tragedy. On opening day, a male pilot was killed when the wings of his plane
collapsed during a steep nosedive. On day six, de Laroche’s plane crashed after
hitting the turbulence of the plane in front of her, and she was seriously
injured. She was knocked unconscious, with eighteen fractures in hands, wrists,
legs, and pelvis, plus wounds to her face. Her injuries were so severe, the Los Angeles Herald ran an erroneous
story of her death on July 9, 1910, noting it was the “second fatal accident at
[the Reims] meet.” Fortunately journalist Harry Harper attended the event to
set the record straight. He reported
that de Laroche regained consciousness for a few brief minutes at the
aerodrome’s hospital, enough time for her to relate to medical officials that
she believed one of her fellow male competitors flew too close to her and
caused the accident. Despite the extent of her injuries, the Baroness still
managed to win 5,000 francs.
Critics
of the event, as you may expect, publicly argued that flying was no place for
women who could not handle the emergencies they could potentially face in the
cockpit. Only men were capable of handling airplanes; it was unladylike for
women to fly, and so on (despite the fact that the only fatality during the
second Grande Semaine d’Aviation involved a male pilot). While her comments
immediately after the crash led to one of her competitors being investigated
and eventually cleared of any wrongdoing, not for a minute did de Laroche question
her own competence as a pilot.
Stay
tuned for the second part of the article to see just how it all worked out for
the Baroness.
