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CARY HORTON Missouri Historical Society
Lavender cut velvet dress with appliquéd leaves, ca. 1909. Originally worn by Lillian Lemp, “The Lavender Lady”. Gift of Mrs. Chester L. Forbes and Mrs. Harold Arensmeyer. Missouri Historical Society Museum Collections. Photograph by Cary Horton, 2006. Photograph and scan (c) 2006, Missouri Historical Society.
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CARY HORTON Missouri Historical Society
1963 023 0017 Front
Lavender cut velvet dress with appliquéd leaves, ca. 1909. Originally worn by Lillian Lemp, “The Lavender Lady”. Gift of Mrs. Chester L. Forbes and Mrs. Harold Arensmeyer. Missouri Historical Society Museum Collections. Photograph by Cary Horton, 2006. Photograph and scan (c) 2006, Missouri Historical Society.
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Missouri History Museum
Lillian Handlan Lemp. Photograph by unknown, ca. 1905. Missouri History Museum Photograph and Print Collection, Portraits n38656.
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William Lemp. Missouri History Museum Photograph and Print Collection.
The Missouri History Museum and its archives possess a wealth of St. Louis history. From old photographs, dating back to the very invention of the medium, to invaluable souvenir books that preserve the memory of long-demolished buildings, the archives have delivered consistently for my research of this city’s history. Scanning through the Museum’s collections database, I came across something that I was never expecting to find: actual clothing owned by Lillian Handlan Lemp, known as the Lavender Lady by her contemporaries. Her tumultuous marriage to William (Billy) Lemp, Jr., which ended in a scandalous divorce, captivated the people of St. Louis in the way Hollywood celebrities do today.
A comprehensive and informative survey of Lillian and Billy’s marriage and divorce trial in the Old Courthouse can be found in Stephen Walker’s Lemp: The Haunting History. To summarize briefly, the union between the Handlan and Lemp families seemed to be more about building possible business ties than romantic love. The court transcripts reveal accusations of physical abuse committed by Billy Lemp, and lavish, ostentatious displays of wealth by Lillian. Those lavish displays consisted of Lillian supposedly purchasing only lavender-colored clothes. Based off of the testimony of witnesses at trial, Billy was almost certainly patronizing well-known prostitutes in what was then the seedy part of St. Louis. Conversely, Billy’s supposed attempts to catch Lillian committing infidelity failed when she noticed a private investigator following her while on a trip by herself.
The trial was a sensation, with huge crowds gathering outside the Old Courthouse in downtown St. Louis. Like something out of a modern-day tabloid trial in Los Angeles, the spectacle contained body doubles exiting the main door of the courthouse while their famous twins left via a side door. Lillian took a break from her Lavender Lady persona to wear black during the trial. Perhaps the trial’s atmosphere is summed up best by a quote from a bystander, related in Lemp: The Haunting History:
“It’s the first time I ever had a chance to see a millionaire close at hand…And they look just like other folks.”
I must admit to often being suspicious of personal objects or affects owned by famous historical figures. However, the clothing held in the History Museum’s collection have a strong provenance, which is the term used to describe the history of ownership. Lillian Handlan Lemp, left alone after the death of her son, William Lemp III, donated her belongings to the Tischer sisters, Mrs. Helen Tischer Forbes (who was engaged to Lillian’s son at one point) and Mrs. Vilma Arensmeyer. In turn, the two sisters donated her clothes to the Missouri History Museum in 1963, just three years after Lillian’s death in 1960. In 2013, Vilma Tischer Arensmeyer’s daughter, Jane Schraudenbach, donated Lillian’s 1899 wedding dress, which she had later worn for her own nuptials. The clothing’s sizes and small waists match Lillian’s measurements.
I viewed the Handlan clothing donations in the Missouri History Museum archives with Shannon Meyer, Senior Curator (the technical descriptions of the clothing in this article were provided by Meyer). Perhaps the most stunning item was a unique creation, described by Meyer as a lavender silk velvet princess line dress with short fitted sleeves, slightly flared skirt with train, and tan velvet leaves with purple highlights applied vertically down the front and back of the skirt. What is most interesting about this dress is its asymmetrical front, which hides the clasps that hold the dress closed—giving it a seamless appearance. While the dress is slightly faded, the rich, radiant lavender color is still preserved under the leaves and in the folds. Despite her husband’s insistence, Meyer says that Lillian’s dress is not overly ostentatious, even though its materials and dressmaking would indeed have been quite expensive.
While Lillian’s lavender clothes did overtly express conspicuous consumption, her underclothing, preserved in the Museum’s collection, proves her devotion to that color was also expressed in items that were never publicly visible. As Meyer explained, Lillian’s lavender pouter-pigeon style silk chiffon bodice, made with rows of horizontal ruching and green and lavender flower embroidery, would have been completely concealed under her dress. Likewise, her off-white lace chemise and matching drawers with bands of pink ribbon and “laced” lavender ribbon would have been concealed under her corset, impossible for anyone to see.
The most surprising revelation was that many of the clothes contained no lavender-colored elements at all. Was Lillian’s reputation as an eccentric wearer of lavender an attempt by Billy and his lawyers (and the tabloids) to paint her as a prima donna? Certainly, high society of the time would have expected the wife of a wealthy industrial such as Billy to dress the part, requiring the purchase of expensive dresses to fit in with the wealthy families of St. Louis.
I was also interested in Lillian’s wedding dress, which Meyer described as cream-colored silk brocade garment with short puff sleeves. While altered with the inclusion of an anachronistic zipper in the back (possibly for donor Jane Schraudenbach’s 1961 wedding), its beauty is still apparent, even after 118 years. White wedding dresses had not become ubiquitous yet, and this dress represents the height of St. Louis fashion at the end of the 19th century. One could imagine the young Lillian’s hopes when she wore this at her wedding to Billy, hopes that came crashing down as the Lemp family’s demise unfolded in the 20th century.
Chris Naffziger writes about architecture at St. Louis Patina. Contact him via email at naffziger@gmail.com.
