The enduring legacy of Anna Karina’s on-screen… | Little White Lies

In Praise Of

The endur­ing lega­cy of Anna Karina’s on-screen style

17 Dec 2019

Words by Sophie Wilson

Two people, a man in a red shirt and a woman in a uniform cap, sitting in the front seats of a convertible car.
Two people, a man in a red shirt and a woman in a uniform cap, sitting in the front seats of a convertible car.
The late icon’s play­ful dress sense brought a breath of fresh air to the films of the French New Wave.

Long before our Insta­gram feeds were over­sat­u­rat­ed with retro-style French girl’ out­fits, Anna Kari­na was putting loose change into juke­box­es and whim­si­cal­ly danc­ing around Parisian cafes in an array of cardi­gans, trench coats and berets. Kari­na passed away last week­end at the age of 79, but she will live on in French New Wave clas­sics such as A Woman Is a Woman, My Life to Live and Pier­rot le Fou.

While Kari­na is best known as direc­tor Jean-Luc Godard’s muse – the pair were even mar­ried between 1961 and 1965 – she was also a film­mak­er in her own right and wrote a series of nov­els in French. But it was her play­ful non­cha­lance in roles like Nana, a Parisian pros­ti­tute, and Mar­i­anne, a weapons smug­gler on the run, which stole the hearts of gen­er­a­tions of viewers.

In a uni­form of plaid skirts, bright sum­mer dress­es and blue eye­shad­ow, Kari­na cement­ed her sta­tus among the on-screen style icons of the 1960s. Godard’s real­is­tic approach meant that actors in his films usu­al­ly wore their own clothes. It was Coco Chanel, whom Kari­na met when she was work­ing as a mod­el, who sug­gest­ed that she change her name to Anna Kari­na” (she was born Hanne Karin Bay­er), so it’s no sur­prise that fash­ion played such a major part in her career.

Karina’s debut came in 1961 with A Woman Is a Woman. The film fol­lows Angéla (Kari­na), who wish­es to have a baby but strug­gles to come to terms with the fact that her part­ner (Jean-Claude Bri­aly) does not. This was Godard’s first for­ay into colour and Kari­na moves across the screen in a bright tri­col­ore. The film’s play­ful humour is estab­lished ear­ly on, when Kari­na bursts onto the screen in a sailor suit singing, danc­ing, strip­ping and star­ing straight down the cam­era. Lat­er, Angéla unwit­ting­ly becomes a fore­run­ner for man repelling style when her part­ner says, I don’t like that tar­tan skirt on you,” to which she replies, Good. I’m not try­ing to please anyone.”

Angéla has not one but two berets, prov­ing that it is pos­si­ble to wear a beret in Paris with­out look­ing like a tourist – so long as you’re cool enough. How­ev­er, it’s a bright blue fur-trimmed dress paired with a blue bow in her bee­hive updo, which she wears to sip a glass of Dubon­net and smoke a cig­a­rette, that enabled Kari­na to claim her place as a bona fide on-screen style icon.

For 1962’s My Life to Live Godard went back to black-and-white. Here Karina’s style is more mature and min­i­mal­ist, topped off with a fresh­ly trimmed bob as she plays doomed pros­ti­tute and aspir­ing actress, Nana. The fur trim makes a come­back towards the end of the film, this time paired with a vel­vet Alice band. Her style devel­ops and becomes more lux­u­ri­ous as pros­ti­tu­tion gives her more finan­cial stability.

The Lit­tle Sol­dier from the fol­low­ing year con­tin­ues in a sim­i­lar vein style wise, with ruf­fled white blous­es and com­fy knits, while in 1964’s Band of Out­siders, Odile (Kari­na), Franz (Sami Frey) and Arthur (Claude Brasseur) break the record for run­ning through the Lou­vre in the fastest time, which Odile exe­cutes in yet anoth­er plaid skirt.

In one of the coolest and most imi­tat­ed movie scenes ever, the trio per­form a chore­o­graphed dance in a café under the curi­ous watch of onlook­ers. Franz puts his hat on Karina’s head just before the three friends break into dance – a rou­tine that the actors prac­ticed every day for a month before film­ing. The scene is inter­spersed with voiceover nar­ra­tion by Godard him­self, once again bring­ing Karina’s attire to the fore: Odile is won­der­ing whether the two boys notice her two breasts, which move beneath her sweater with every step.”

When Mar­i­anne (Kari­na) and Fer­di­nand (Jean-Paul Bel­mon­do) go on the run to the Riv­iera in Pier­rot Le Fou, we get to see what la Parisi­enne wears in warmer climes. Mar­i­anne walks mood­i­ly up and down the beach in a red-and-white striped sun­dress, com­plain­ing of ennui. Else­where in the film, she sings joy­ous­ly in a bright red frill dress which was recre­at­ed by French fash­ion design­er Agnès B in 2007 as part of a col­lec­tion inspired by Kari­na and oth­er New Wave icons.

The colour­ful Made in USA from 1966 was the last fea­ture-length col­lab­o­ra­tion between Godard and Kari­na. She con­tin­ued to work in film right up until 2008’s Vic­to­ria, which she wrote, direct­ed and starred in. Karina’s on-screen style is as syn­ony­mous with the French New Wave as smok­ing and philo­soph­i­cal intro­spec­tion, and it con­tin­ues to inspire design­ers, film­mak­ers and view­ers alike. It has endured in part because it is easy to repli­cate – but ulti­mate­ly Karina’s style is about attitude.

Godard famous­ly said that all you need for a movie is a gun and a girl. All you real­ly need to imi­tate Karina’s time­less style is a tube of eye­lin­er and a pack of Gitanes.

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