Rebecca Harrison with Siti Syuhaida Mohamed Yunus
Queen Amidala’s iconic red dress in The Phantom Menace (1999) represented high fashion in Star Wars. In this study, we trace the environmental impacts of materials used to create the garment, and suggest how practitioners might source sustainable alternatives fit for royalty today.
Summary
The ‘Throne Room’ dress, worn by Natalie Portman in The Phantom Menace (1999), is recognised even by those who have never seen Star Wars. Its political economic significance and ecological impact, though, are less well-known. Our research suggests that the dress, like many costumes created for the film industry, left a large carbon footprint.
According to our estimates, over its lifecycle the Throne Room dress resulted in emissions equivalent to 9374 kg of carbon dioxide – it would take 45 healthy, full-grown trees 10 years to fully ‘offset’ these emissions.
Despite the dress’s opulence, just 4% of the more than 9 tonnes of emissions resulted from its lavish fabrics and other materials. An enormous 88% came from associated travel – by air, sea, and road – of people and materials.
Several factors contribute to the film industry’s harmful impact on our planet. All should be addressed if the industry is to become more sustainable.
First, where possible buyers and makers should source locally manufactured materials and recycled fabrics. Designers and other practitioners should minimise their own travel, too, when in pre/production phases.
Second, the contemporary trend for studios to guard intellectual property and lock away assets must change. It results not only in high buying budgets, but also in large amounts of waste. To support costume departments in making greener decisions, studios must end the need to over-consume.
And third, while many costume department freelancers are doing their best to work more sustainably, their efforts must be supported by funders and financers, producers and department heads, and, ultimately, studio bosses. These are the individuals who have to take responsibility for industry change – not the most precarious workers.
You can read the full case study below.
Introduction
The so-called ‘Throne Room’ dress worn by Natalie Portman in her role as Queen Amidala in The Phantom Menace (hereafter TPM, 1999) is one of the most recognisable costumes in the Star Wars saga.
A floor-length red silk gown with fur trim, light-up orbs in the skirt, and a headpiece with a striking silhouette, the regal outfit featured in Vogue and replicas became sought-after Halloween costumes [see Figure 1].[1] Looking, as one journalist put it, like ‘The Cure’s Robert Smith trick-or-treating as Liz Taylor’s Cleopatra,’ Queen Amidala became a turn-of-the-millennium fashion icon.[2]
What do we know, though, about the gown’s provenance? How are its constituent materials connected to Princess Diana, haute couture catwalks, and international trade? And – importantly – what was the probable environmental impact of the Throne Room dress?
To answer these questions, I’ve investigated the asset’s cultural history using interviews conducted with industry figures, press materials, and government records. Environmental scientist Siti Syuhaida Mohamed Yunus, meanwhile, has drawn on fan recreations of the dress and carbon emissions databases. Here, we reveal how a costume’s global warming potential is massively increased by both transport and precarious labour practices, and suggest ways to mitigate carbon footprints in costume departments.
Prequel costumes
While the prequel films pushed the boundaries of then nascent digital technologies, production of Episode I: The Phantom Menace, says one art department member, was ‘still quite a lot of old-school.’[3] But where props in the original trilogy were sourced from scrap yards and costumes were rented to contribute to the movies’ lived-in aesthetic, the prequels required a different approach. The Empire, explained director George Lucas, would be seen in its ‘heyday’ before war broke out and thus required ‘lavish’ sets and ‘opulence.’[4]
In keeping with the glamour of the ruling classes whose stories dominated the films, promotional materials for the prequels stressed the productions’ no-expense-spared approach. Costume designer Trisha Biggar travelled extensively between London, California, and international textile fairs to source fabrics from Scotland, India, and Hong-Kong.[5] At Leavesden (the English studio where TPM was shot), Biggar describes a team of 80-120 people in the costume department, including ‘[c]outure-level cutters, sewers, dyers and printers, embroiderers, beaders, milliners, leatherworkers, mould-makers, sculptors, and jewellers.[6] Portman’s wardrobe alone cost an estimated £60,000 to make.[7]
In context
That Biggar imported fabrics from Hong Kong is a significant detail. Production on TPM began in earnest in 1997, the same year that Britain ‘returned’ to China land it had colonised in East Asia. Hong Kong was a vital asset in the British imperial project; colonisers had exploited regional opium production there for trade in Chinese spices and silk. In 1997, there was widespread news media interest in the region, and East Asian aesthetics inspired – or were appropriated by – Western brands. ‘Luxurious oriental damasks and rich embroidery are invading the high street as designers look East for inspiration,’ noted one writer in The Times.[8]
At the same time, the European Union was relaxing textile import quotas that it had applied to goods from China, Indonesia and Vietnam following the Uruguay Round of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade.[9] Although the quotas likely applied predominantly to wholesale activity, Biggar was operating in an environment in which legislators were encouraging more textile trading between Europe and East Asia.
Making the Dress
The Throne Room dress was designed by concept artist Iain McCaig. In an interview for the EIF project, he cites Mongolian, Japanese, and Elizabethan English fashions as among his inspirations for Amidala’s wardrobe. Historical research, he says, is ‘great for designs, because then it implies a history behind the costume of the characters.’[10] Also referencing Art Nouveau and the natural imagery of William Morris, the light-up orbs in the gown’s skirt were drawn from seeds that McCaig observed growing at Skywalker Ranch, George Lucas’s California studio.[11]
When production began, it was Biggar’s job to turn the concept sketches into wearable costumes; in the case of the Throne Room dress, the task fell to Rosi Compton.[12] To help with pattern cutting, sculptors made Plaster of Paris casts of the principle actors, and the workroom team made mock-ups of costumes in cheap cotton fabric (known as toiles).[13]
They would have been working, an experienced costume coordinator says, in a department usually divided into three teams: designers, buyers, and workroom.[14] As reported by Vogue, buying was critical to the authenticity of Amidala’s wardrobe.[15] In what are good examples of reuse and repurposing of materials, antique beading and fabrics were important features of her gowns.
Writing about the Throne Room dress, Biggar states that ‘it took almost eight weeks to complete,’ and began with ‘manufacturing of an undergarment that resembled an upside-down ice cream cone.’ The underlayers were then attached to a crinoline steel hoop, which supported the weight of approximately twenty-five bias-cut silk-cord skirt panels. The team constructed each sleeve from fifteen separate panels, and piped the cuffs. Collar details included gold metallic embroidery, hems were lined with faux-fur, and the lights – powered by a battery pack sewn into the skirt – were ‘vac-formed Perspex, colour-washed with French enamel varnish.’[16]
Fashion
Reference points for the gown, as McCaig attests, were mostly East Asian. However, as articles in the press suggests, the aesthetic owed just as much to contemporary design and textiles at the fabrication stage – and the dress went on to influence contemporary fashions on catwalks and beyond [see Figure 2].
Silk, for example (which was used for the skirt and sleeves), was a popular fabric in 1997, probably owing in part to interest in Hong Kong and China. Associated in British culture with the upper classes (‘silks’ are items of clothing worn by judges), the material was used in numerous high-end designer collections. Celebrities including Hillary Clinton, Madonna, Kate Moss and Donatella Versace all appeared at major cultural events in silk garments. And, underscoring its links with royalty, silk was referenced in hundreds of news reports about Princess Diana, especially in relation to a charitable auction of her many silk evening gowns. Coming full circle back to the film industry, the most expensive lot was a ‘long, formal, dinner outfit of ink-blue silk velvet by Victor Edelstein which fetched an auction record $200,000,’ which Diana had worn at the White House in 1985, where she danced with John Travolta.[17]
Faux fur was also in vogue. Controversy raged throughout the late 90s among fashion elites, commentators, and activists over the use of real fur collections by, among others, Oscar de la Renta.[18] (A Ralph Lauren catwalk in 2000 not only featured a floor-length fur coat, but also, signalling the influence of Star Wars on the fashion world, a ‘quilted velvet coat with a high Queen Amidala-like collar’).[19] A survey by Marie Claire and animal rights charity the RSPCA revealed that while 87 per cent of UK adults would not wear real fur, they were, the Guardian reported, buying fake fur, and ‘lots of it.’[20] More animal friendly than real fur, it’s nevertheless worth noting that faux fur is made from petrochemicals: it is not an ecologically sustainable material.
Life-cycle assessment of the dress
Faux fur is by no means the only material in the Throne Room dress reliant on fossil fuels; most fabric and garment production processes require fossil-generated electric energy. Moreover, as documented by TPM producer Rick McCallum, Biggar travelled extensively by air to source fabrics that were shipped to set from South and East Asia. (McCallum notes that importing fabrics from the Global South helped him keeps costs down).[21] Above-the-line crew were flying frequently between studios in California and London; below-the-line crew would have relied on cars to reach workshop facilities at Leavesden.
In her global warming potential calculations for the Throne Room dress, Dr Mohamed Yunus has made reasonable assumptions about the dress’s fabrication based on available evidence, and very conservative estimates about travel for above-the-line crew. She has used the data to conduct a life cycle assessment (LCA). It accounts for emissions from materials, energy use, and the complex global supply chains involved in fabric sourcing and transportation. The LCA also includes travel-related emissions from the crew and waste disposal. Thus, the LCA reveals the likely ecological cost of the costume’s production. The dress’s global warming potential is measured in kg CO2e, which accounts for a range of pollutant emissions and represents them as an equivalent amount of carbon dioxide.
The life cycle assessment of the gown is cradle to grave, in that it includes: probable emissions associated with the manufacture of fabrics; tools, materials, machinery, and energy consumption during the make; and the disposal of waste or unused textiles. We’ve identified France, Poland, India, and China as the likely sources of fabric. Sea and air freight are used for international shipping, while transportation in the UK is based on trucks of up to 16 tonnes. Dr Mohamed Yunus estimated fabric amounts based on published reports of Natalie Portman’s height, and a UK dress size 10; fan websites documenting cosplay interpretations of the dress have also offered useful reference points.[22]
The data are organised based on the material types, the dimensions, and the weight of each material, and is available to download via the link below.
Dress global warming potential
Of the 9374 kg CO2e that we estimate were emitted during the dress’s lifecycle, an enormous 88% (8239 kg CO2e) came from air, sea, or road travel. The movement of people and materials during the production process had a huge impact on the garment’s global warming potential.
According to Dr Mohamed Yunus’s calculations, just 4% (395 kg CO2e) of emissions were generated by the fabrics and other materials in the dress itself.
For comparison, it would take 45 healthy, full-grown trees 10 years of being properly managed and protected to offset the carbon emissions produced over the dress’s lifecycle.[23]
Making costumes sustainably
It’s clear from the Throne Dress lifecycle assessment that the single most important change the TPM production team could have made to reduce their emissions was lower their reliance on fossil-based transport. Sourcing locally-produced, recycled, or vintage materials would have made for a far greener production. Limiting the air travel of above-the-line crew would also have made a big difference.
Over the past decade, there have been concerted efforts by costume makers to improve the environmental sustainability of practices across their sector. Sinéad Kidao, for example, is the author of The Costume Directory, which helps costume makers source eco-friendly suppliers at every stage of an asset’s lifecycle. The aim of Kidao and her research team is to help with ‘consciously addressing the [production] decisions being made, and seeing if they could possibly be done in a more mindful way.’ [24] The Costume Directory’s second edition is available online.
Of course, it’s not just where materials come from that affects a costume’s environmental impact. The materials themselves matter: faux fur is vegan, and so on the surface of things an ethical choice. But while I would not advocate the use of real fur (especially as someone who does not eat meat!), it’s impossible to ignore that faux fur is a product of the petrochemical industry. Sourcing existing faux fur garments and repurposing the fabric would be a greener alternative to buying new. Choosing organic materials (organic cotton, silk) is another means by which buyers can keep emissions down. Using cotton rather than plastic dress storage bags can also help.
Corporate responsibility
However, as a freelance costume coordinator told me in interview, there’s only so much that precariously employed, below-the-line crew can do when they’re not properly resourced within production budgets to make lasting change. ‘No-one in the industry says no; the word “no” doesn’t exist,’ they said.[25] Consequently, it’s not unusual for buyers on tent-pole productions (large-scale, blockbuster movies) to double up purchases of fabrics and other assets from different suppliers to ensure that orders arrive by the time they’re needed. The wasted order often ends up in landfill.
Meanwhile, studios are so guarded about their intellectual property that at the end of a shoot all assets – even those that have come from, for instance, high street retailers – are stored indefinitely. ‘They put everything in massive containers, everything is labelled very nicely and stuff. They put everything in containers, and those containers will never, ever be reopened ever again.’ Sometimes rare or antique textiles are archived and cannot be accessed for historical research; in some cases, major franchises will not allow their own sequel productions to borrow items.[26]
CAMA Asset Store and other archive facilities are supporting filmmakers who want to store production items after a shoot has ended. Storage, though, is only effective if it enables reuse and repurposing of assets. As a Star Wars art department member points out, this is simply how things worked historically in the screen industries. The set built for the epic production of Cleopatra (1963) was reused for Carry on Cleo (1964).[27] Studios like the BBC enabled productions to borrow set pieces and costumes from a central warehouse. And, as is widely documented, Star Wars assets have been stored and repurposed between different franchise films and TV shows. There are examples of good practice to draw from.
Furthermore, while the global warming potential of waste materials in the Throne Room dress study was lower than at other life cycle stages (at 2.51 kg CO2e), it would have been avoidable if materials were recycled rather than sent to landfill. This is especially true for synthetic textiles, as polyester threads, for example, are not biodegradable.
In interview, the costume coordinator identified the wrap (the closing down of a production) as a significant period of unsustainable practice that often undermines the hard work individuals have done to mitigate environmental harm during the shoot. Rushed and under-resourced wraps put huge pressure on people to quickly sort assets (sometimes in the thousands), prepare them for storage, label them, return items to rental houses, and archive hero costumes.
Selling assets is not viable because costume departments are not equipped to become retailers. But charitable giving is not an easy option, either. While there are examples of assets being distributed among local arts organisations, some productions do not want to risk ‘advantaging one charitable place rather than the other […] It’s all about the image.’ The costume coordinator just cited was aware of one instance in the past when a stock of winter clothes was going to be sent to landfill.[28] On this occasion, members of the costume department risked their own careers in order to remove the clothes from the studio and personally take them to people in refugee camps in Calais.
Conclusion
However we frame it – as lifecycle, political economy, or cultural history – the genesis of the Throne Room dress reveals how crucial buying practices are to the environmental sustainability of a garment. From choosing organic textiles, to sourcing repurposed materials from local suppliers, there are numerous points at which costume departments can limit carbon emissions in the production process. Keeping air travel to a minimum, or better still, refraining from it entirely, is critical.
As our case study illuminates, costume design is embedded in its own historical moment (the silks and faux furs of the Throne Room dress speak to colonial and animal rights debates in the 90s), and can have its own cultural impacts (by influencing fashion). It’s a vital component of a film’s aesthetic, and often helps audiences understand themes, a character’s status, and narrative developments.
To ensure that costume departments can do creative work that is environmentally sustainable, freelance costumiers must have support from production heads, and they in turn from funders, to give them the resources they need to make greener decisions. Without time, finance, or commitment to reuse of materials, costumes like the Throne Room dress risk becoming museum pieces that represent not just their cultural moment, but a period of planetary destruction that would not be out of place in Star Wars.
While you’re here…
If this case study changes how you think or feel about the industry’s impact on the environment, or if you use any EIF project resources in your work, please do take a minute to let us know by completing this short survey. Your feedback will help us develop further resources and apply for funding that supports our ongoing work.
Notes
[1] Hamish Bowles, “Star Wars Couture,” Vogue 4 (1999): 320-325; Craig S Semon, “Pokémon Costumes a real Scream,” Telegram & Gazette, Worcester, MA, Oct 21, 1999, p.1.
[2] Rob Sheffield, “The Queen who Saved Star Wars,” Rolling Stone, August 5, 1999, p.12.
[3] Interview with Art Department crew member, online, January 30, 2023.
[4] George Lucas, ‘Foreword,’ in Dressing A Galaxy: The Costumes of Star Wars, Trisha Biggar, ix (New York, NY: Insight Editions, Harry N Abrams, Inc., Publishers, 2005).
[5] Rick McCallum, ‘Foreword,’ in Dressing A Galaxy: The Costumes of Star Wars, Trisha Biggar, x (New York, NY: Insight Editions, Harry N Abrams, Inc., Publishers, 2005).
[6] Trisha Biggar, Dressing a Galaxy, 2.
[7] Daniel Jeffreys, “The Force is with Us Again,” Daily Mail, April 10, 1999, p. 46.
[8] Heath Brown, “Silk Routes,” The Times, March 15, 1997, page unknown.
[9] Neil Buckley, “Brussels Set to Eas Trade Import Quotas,” Financial Times, April 30, 1997, page unknown.
[10] Interview with Iain McCaig, March 14, 2023.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Daily Mirror, “Star Wears: Mirror Works Designer Rosi Compton’s Got Her Career All Sewn Up,” June 29, 2006, p.57.
[13] Biggar, Dressing a Galaxy, 14.
[14] Interview with freelance Costume Coordinator, February 6, 2023.
[15] Hamish Bowles, “Star Wars Couture,” Vogue 4 (1999): 320-325.
[16] Biggar, Dressing a Galaxy, 46.
[17] Tunku Varadarajan, “Princess’s Million-Dollar Dresses,” June 26, 1997, page unknown.
[18] Laura Craik, “Ralph Lauren Joins Fur-Frenzy,” Guardian, February 10, 2000, p.10.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Susannah Barron, “Fashion: Fake’s Progress; This Winter’s Faux-Fur Styles are Every Bit as Elegant as the Real Thing – and You Don’t Have to be Cruella de Ville,” Guardian, November 1, 1997, p.48.
[21] Rick McCallum, ‘Foreword,’ in Dressing A Galaxy, x.
[22] See Kealy Ann, “Padme Amidala – Red Throne Gown,” Kealy Ann, 2023, https://kealyann.com/2023/10/28/padme-amidala-red-throne-gown-2023/; Grimilde Malatesta, “Costume Replicas,” Grimilde Malatesta, https://www.grimildemalatesta.com/product-category/costume-replicas/; Naergi, “Queen Amidala – Red Invasion – Headdress,” Naergi’s Costuming Site, 2020, https://www.naergilien.info/my-costumes/various/star-wars-costumes/star-wars-queen-amidala-theed-throne/queen-amidala-red-invasion-headdress/.
[23] Beth Howell, “What is Carbon Capture and Does It Actually Work?,” Eco Experts, May 5, 2022, https://www.theecoexperts.co.uk/blog/does-carbon-capture-work. Trees do not start carbon capturing to their maximum potential until they are on average twenty years old. They offset approximately 21 KgCO2 per year.
[24] Sinéad Kidao, The Costume Directory, second edition (London: BAFTA albert consortium, 2020, 5.
[25] Interview with freelance Costume Coordinator, February 6, 2023.
[26] Ibid.
[27] Interview with Art Department crew member, online, January 30, 2023.
[28] Interview with freelance Costume Coordinator, February 6, 2023.
