Friday, January 17, 2014

Downton Abbey, Season 1, Episode 1


Welcome to the first episode of Costume Quibbling! As a reminder, the term "Quibbling" might be slightly misleading: I won't be trying to point out flaws in the costume decisions of the movies or TV shows I'm reviewing; rather, I'm using the the word to connote more of a sense of "fussing over tiny details", minus the negative implications.

The real masters of Costume Quibbling are the fabulous Tom and Lorenzo, whose eponymous website is where you'll find the excellent analyses of Janie Bryant's genius work on Mad Men, from which I draw my inspiration. The complete archives are here. I strongly encourage you to read them, even if you're not a Mad Men fan, just to see how amazingly deep and complex costuming can be.

For my first post in the series, I'm going to cover some very well-trodden ground: the runaway PBS hit Downton Abbey. It lends itself well to endless discussion, partly because of the soapy plots (full of emotion, which means the costumers, if they're any good, have a lot of things they can express via wardrobe choices) and partly because of all that lovely costume porn. Wealthy women changed their clothes three, four, sometimes five times a day, even in 1912 when the show starts, so there's plenty of fodder, not to mention the sheer number of cast members means someone's always wearing something interesting. Usually this isn't the men, as there were really only two colors for them to wear: black, and tweed (sure, tweed is a color! :-). Also military uniforms, but we'll get to that later. And the servants have to stick to their uniforms for most of the time, of course, but they occasionally get to step out on their days off, so we might glean a little from those moments.

I'm going to assume whoever's reading this has watched the series all the way through to the end as of early spring 2013 (the final episode is the Christmas special from season 3), but don't worry about spoilers--I have a feeling this project is going to take long enough for everyone to catch up!

Ready?  Here we go!

Season 1, Episode 1

The first season's a little inconsistent in terms of costuming, which is to be expected since everyone, cast and crew alike, are still figuring character and production design out. But there's still plenty to work with, at least once the gentry wake up in mid-April of 1912. The first few scenes are some pretty establishing shots of the milk train steaming through the countryside, bearing a mysterious stranger (no, it's just Bates) and heading towards the village, where the awful news of the Titanic is received and delivered in due time to the manor. Nothing to report here.

Now we're in the house proper. These people are so rich they have human alarm clocks for their staff!  It's Daisy, waking up all the maids at 6AM.  Her pink dress (or another one much like it) is pretty much the only thing she wears for most of the show, so we'll get it out of the way here and now. It's plain, no collar, and made of very sturdy material. You can see the weave in the close-up of her hand knocking at the door (incidentally, the Brits call this "knocking up". Daisy knocks up the maids every morning! Tee hee hee). The maids, Gwen and Anna, are wearing totally typical and barely visible nightgowns, about which I have nothing to say, so back to Daisy's dress. The pink is a nice color, reminding us that she's still a child, and a very innocent one. The sleeves are short, so she doesn't get them dirty with her endless chores, which is good, since her chores include both kitchen work AND fireplace cleaning. Of course there's an apron, too. It's a half apron, which is actually an indication of rank, since she's not a maid or the cook. If you look closely, you can see that she's wearing stays under her dress, which is unremarkable for the time, except that I think she keeps wearing them even into the '20s. She's a very conservative girl, and she's part of the working class, which is rarely on the cutting edge of fashion, but I think she keeps using them for the back support they provide her.

Source.  This isn't actually the same dress as I was describing, but it's close enough.

Next we've got the usual below-stairs traffic of maids and houseboys, cooks and footmen as Daisy schleps up to the first-floor rooms. Mrs. Patmore, the cook, is wearing her work dress, complete with apron (a full apron, because she's Cook!) and a cap to contain her hair.


The housemaids are wearing their morning outfits: print dresses with cotton aprons and cotton caps. The dresses are made of a dismal green material, ankle-length, with slightly puffed sleeves. Servants would be given the materials necessary for making their own uniforms, generally at Christmas (fabric was expensive), and I'm not sure if the aprons were bought, or if there was some leeway allowed in the design of the apron, but as you can kind of see, the aprons are not identical. Gwen's is slightly simpler, with less lace, where Anna's is a little more ornate, and I take that to mean that as head housemaid, Anna has been in service longer, so her apron's not quite as fashionable anymore. 
Source.  Note the high collar and the little buttons.
Oooh, here comes Thomas, the naughty footman! He's looking very dapper in his starched shirtfront, horizontally-striped waistcoat (if he were a groom or an outside servant, his waistcoat would be vertically striped), and pomaded hair. Be nice to William, Thomas! 

Source. I forget how I formatted the maids to be next to each other.
There's some more maidly banter, including a few elbows in the ribs for modern viewers about How Silly Electric Light Is, and then we have...stalking along the corridor, keys jangling...Mrs. Hughes. Appropriate, given how the maids would have respected and feared her. Her dress is also pretty sturdy and utilitarian, but she gets a skim of lace at the (very high) collar and cuffs, and a nice pearl brooch to remind us that she's an upper servant. She's always in dark blue or black, often with stripes.  It's very authoritarian and businesslike, and quite right too.
Our first shot of Carson is most unbefitting to his station. In his shirtsleeves? What's he doing polishing silver at that hour, anyway? As a former butler myself, I can assure you that that's too big a job to bother with before breakfast. Later scenes show him in standard butler livery appropriate for various occasions and times of day. Of course he'd be perfectly correct at all times.
Only one minute into the first episode, and we've covered quite a lot of ground, haven't we? This pretty much sums up most of the servants' costumes for most of the series, so we probably don't have to examine them again until the War.

And now for our first look at the Quality: Lady Mary! Already cultivating an air of ennui, even at 8AM, she literally looks down on the paperboy in her filmy nightgown and peignoir (nice bit of fanservice there, with the backlighting. I'm sure I could get my husband to watch this with me if there was more of that). Other than that, not much to say. Get dressed, Lady M, and then we'll talk.

Source. Good morning, sunshine!
Back downstairs. Thomas can't even get a bite of semolina before the bells start ringing. We get our first look at O'Brien, Lady Grantham's maid, looking above her station (and behaving like it) with her teacup in hand. Her dress is boring and black, with the same lace trim and a similar as Mrs. Hughes', but nicer, probably silk. Lady's maids weren't supposed to be attractive or fashionable at all--they were servants, after all!--but one of the perks of the job was receiving their mistresses' cast-off clothing, so this dress might have been something she got from Lady Grantham (although the style is a little too frumpy for a lady of the period).  Her hair is weird and unflattering, but probably fairly easy to deal with, and it stays out of her way.
More bustling about, inklings of the Titanic tragedy filtering through the staff, and some seriously tasty-looking kedgeree.
And there he is, lord of the manor, Robert, Earl of Grantham. Cue gently majestic music for his nobs, please. And his dog, Pharaoh, who presumably undergoes a sex change and becomes the beloved Isis next season. But I digress. High-quality day suit. Checkered silk necktie (nice amber stickpin). Watch chain and fob. Snore. This tells us nothing that we didn't already know: this man is master of all he surveys. Julian Fellowes wants you to know that the English nobility cared, no, really cared, about "the poor devils below decks". Uh huh. Ok. Sure. Oooh, here come the girls. Now things get interesting.
Wait, no, you have to look at Robert first. Source.

Mary and Sybil are wearing basically the same outfit: a soft blouse and long skirt.  It's a nice casual morning outfit. Mary's blouse is blue silk with white collar and cuffs; her skirt is black. Sybil's blouse is pink with little black dots, and it's hard to tell with the sunlight on it, but her skirt is either dark blue or violet. Edith is in something entirely different style-wise, a fitted dark blue one-piece dress with pink at the collar and cuffs. BUT! Her color scheme matches Sybil's. So Mary and Sybil are have something in common, as do Sybil and Edith. Mary and Edith aren't matched at all. This ought to tell you something right now about how those two feel about each other, before we get any exposition to back it up.
The other notable part of the first appearance of the Crawley sisters is that Sybil's hair is down, while Edith and Mary have updos. This indicates that Sybil hasn't "come out" yet--i.e., been presented at court and placed on the marriage market. She's still a child as far as society is concerned.

We meet Cora, Countess of Grantham, when Robert goes to break the news that several of her friends spent a cold and uncomfortable night in a rowboat but are now safe and sound--oh, and that both heirs to Downton "and the rest of the swag", as she'll put it later, are sleeping with the fishes, thus setting the whole plot in motion. She's in a fussy nightgown and bed jacket, pink, with gold trim. As we'll see in future scenes, this high level of craftsmanship, ornamentation, and detail is typical of her wardrobe.  Cora was a Buccaneer--a member of American high society who married an English lord in the 1880s and '90s, when many of the titles and estates were in serious jeopardy. Their money saved the English aristocracy from sliding into genteel oblivion, but it was pretty hard for those brides for the first couple years: the estates were crumbling, freezing and totally outdated; the servants sometimes actively plotted against them; they had a whole cast of horrible in-laws: bitchy sisters-in-law, crazy great-uncles, and we all know how their mothers-in-law could behave...I can't wait to see the prequel Fellowes claims to be working on.  

Source.  Note the puffed sleeves. She's probably had that for upwards of ten years. Don't judge. I love my old bathrobes.
Anyway, two and a half seasons later, we'll learn that Cora receives a "dress allowance" from her wealthy parents back in Ohio, so that she doesn't bankrupt her husband by fulfilling her socio-sartorial obligations (it was probably part of her dowry). Having been raised with what the British would consider American decadence and excess, and since she doesn't really have to worry about the cost of her wardrobe, it's not surprising that her clothes are so luxurious and ornate. We'll see later on that she  prefers floral motifs, although that's pretty typical for the period.

Back downstairs we go, with O'Brien and the maids. At the bottom of the stairs is our mysterious stranger from the train: Mt. John Bates, the new valet. He's dressed typically for a man in the upper levels of the working class: inferior suit, soft shirt, necktie, overcoat, very worn satchel. We get the Anna-Bates meet-cute, and he hobbles off. 

What follows is what I'll probably be calling a Servant Scene, since we've already gone over their costumes. So, Servant Scene, and then Lady Mary, who's still in her breakfast outfit, whining about mourning clothes. I can't blame her for being relieved that she doesn't have to mourn Patrick as a fiance, although it was pretty insensitive to say so in front of her father. Mourning clothes were dreadful affairs: black first, of course, but then innumerable gradations of gray, violet, purple, mauve, lilac and lavender, depending on one's age and relationship to the deceased. Everyone in the family would need to re-tool and supplement their wardrobes to accommodate these rules, and they would be barred from attending balls while in mourning, which would put a serious crimp in the Crawley girls' social lives and marriage prospects. Mary is glad not to have to mourn Patrick as a fiance, because that would mean she'd be in black (or purple, or gray, or whatever) for nearly a year; but as a cousin in mourning, she'd be looking at 3-6 months, tops.

Servant Scene. Snuff-box MacGuffins. Bitchy Thomas is bitchy. Mrs. Hughes breaks up the first of many Thomas-O'Brien tête-a-têtes.  

What's next? Cora and Robert taking a walk-and-talk. Cora mentions the preparations being made for mourning clothes (see? It's a pain!), and she's already wearing what's probably the most somber outfit she owns that's not actually mourning: a dark burgundy dress and coat, cream-colored blouse, and big ol' hat with a black ribbon. The velvet, the hat, and the gold brooch at her throat all proclaim her wealth.

And now...ladies and gentlemen...prepare yourselves for...THE DOWAGER COUNTESS.

Source. I haven't even started on her and already she disapproves.
Oh, yes. She's arrived. And of course she's heard. Why else would she be here?

So, Lady Violet, Dowager Countess of Downton, puts the "old" AND the "school" in "old school".  What I find most interesting about her, aside from all the razor-tongued quips, of course, is that she hasn't bothered to have new clothes made since the last coronation (look it up for yourselves, I'm tired of linking things). The silhouette of the turn of the century (there) emphasized an S-bend and a sweeping skirt, so anything that went over that made you look as solid as a battleship, which Violet certainly does in this first scene. I can't decide if that black coat is lambskin, sealskin, or some other kind of fur. Anyone? The hat is a work of art. We also get a glimpse of a Dowager Countess trademark: a high neck. She always wears a choker or a high collar, which gives her an air of formality and wealth. Also that walking stick! The perfect prop for running everyone's business. So why should she update her wardrobe? She has everything she needs and she looked perfect in her Belle Epoque duds--perfectly imposing, perfectly put together, perfectly old-fashioned without looking stuffy or frumpy. On a practical note, she probably has less money now that Robert and Cora has taken over, so she has to be more frugal.  
We also get a better look at Cora's dress, which serves to emphasize the difference between the new fashions and the old: Cora looks younger and sleeker, but also smaller and more vulnerable.  Black and brown don't match, either, so even though they're allies by the end, they aren't really tied to one another yet.
Love the detail on Cora's dress.

Servant Scene, chock-full of condescending explanations from Carson. But Bates gets the last word! 

Another Servant Scene, this one with funeral food, poison, and unrequited love! Yum.  

Robert and Murray, his solicitor, in the requisite top hats and black clothing. All by the book.

A quick shot of the girls in their black dresses: now here, a few telling details emerge. Mary's dress is the most elegant of the three, with a little vertical row of buttons down the bodice and a jacket that looks like a man's old-fashioned riding frock coat.  Her hat is the only bum note in the look--it's too large and too lumpy up top, but that was the fashion. As the show progresses, she's going to emerge as the clotheshorse of the Sisters Three. Her clothes will always be the most stylish and au courant. She favors elegant clothing with clean lines and minimal ornament. As the eldest daughter, she probably gets first crack at the whatever budget her parents have set up for her and her sisters' clothing. 
Edith's outfit is a little more eclectic. She's wearing a skirt, blouse and jacket too, but they aren't as sleek as Mary's, and the lacy shawl collar on blouse is classic Edith--it's feminine and soft with a vaguely floral motif. Edith is the most down-to-earth of the girls, and she often sports flower or plant designs on her clothing. Her hat, with its superfine veil, would look much better with Mary's outfit, so I'm imagining a teenaged fight in the morning before the funeral.
Sybil's outfit looks the most thrown-together.  She's still technically a child, remember, so black wouldn't be an acceptable color for her to wear. In fact, if she were any younger, she'd be dressed in all white for a funeral, but she's just old enough to be given what are probably her sisters' rejects for the day: a dress that doesn't fit her well and a jacket that doesn't match the dress. Her hat, however, is her trademark style: a simple felt proto-cloche (to be replaced with a real cloche when they come into fashion). 

Robert and Murray snipe about "professions" and how awful it is that one's heir should have one. Ugh, jobs.

Servant Scene. Daisy poisons the funeral guests. William is an accessory.

Murray and Robert discuss the entail. Murray's coat collar is fur, and flashier than Robert's, who probably considers fur collars on men irretrievably crass.

Servant Scene. Daisy is saved from the gallows because William doesn't know which chicken to poison and comes down to ask her again. She acts completely insane and only we know why!

Cora greets mourners at the door, dressed in her best black day dress, made more formal by a high netted collar (where have we seen that before, hmm?), a huge ugly brooch (probably a special mourning brooch made of jet, a form of carbon), and a weird embroidered streamer thing over her shoulders.  Maybe it's part of the dress (which actually looks more a blouse and skirt, now that I look closer, but it could just be made to look that way), but it's very old-fashioned either way.

Servant Scene.  Carson decants port and worries about "his" family. Mrs. Hughes cuts corners on the housekeeping (leaving clean sheets on the bed for the next guests? Horrors!) and speculates on the life she could have had.

Servant Scene.  Thomas, coming out of the post office.  Shifty!

Cora takes tea in her sitting room, in another frilly pink gown.  It's probably a tea gown, a loose robe she could wear without stays underneath, to give her a break in the afternoons before lacing up nice and tight for the evening.  I think she just wants to read, but O'Brien wants to express her outrage over the entail, and about Bates' infirmity.  Not very sensitive, O'Brien!

Bates and Robert in the library.  Robert is still in his mourning clothes, Bates has changed into his valeting outfit: striped trousers, black vest, tie, and short jacket, and white shirt.  Hunky-dory.

Servant Scene.  Thomas-O'Brien tête-a-tête, this time with tobacco.  Thomas is dressed in his own clothes, all very typical for working-class men of the time, especially the flat cap.  

The Sisters Three, dressing for dinner.  Actually, they're all dressed, except for Mary, who's getting the finishing touches on her hair from Anna.  Anna is wearing a maid's afternoon/evening uniform: black dress, frilly white apron, and frilly white cap that only barely covers the back of her head, because it's just decorative.

Source. I've chosen this photo so you can see how fancy and old-fashioned Anna's apron is compared with Gwen's.

Mary, as the eldest, has the best dress again: a sparkly beaded layer over an underdress. Edith is wearing a less impressive black dress with no beading or sparkles, and Sybil has some interesting lace sleeves.  Her hair is more elaborately styled, but still down her back. They all have jet necklaces. Right on the nose for late Edwardian mourning formalwear.  

Source. This isn't exactly the same scene, but it's the only one with Sybil in black. Left small for the resolution. I left the other one small because no one cares about Edith.
Servant Scene. Thomas being grasping and manipulative, Carson falling for it, all in stiff shirtfronts and white tie.
Semi-Servant Scene. Robert and Bates show each other their stiff upper lips.

Robert (in white tie, of course) goes to Cora as O'Brien finishes dressing her. Her dress is more formal than her daughters', and she has the most elaborate necklace. O'Brien is wearing a pretty chiffon collar over her dress, more formal for evening. As Cora pokes at her hair, you can see she's wearing a diamond engagement ring along with her wedding band.  I question the accuracy of that.

Violet has arrived for dinner, in black, naturally, and dripping with jewels: her bodice is beaded, she's wearing her perpetual choker, and she's added several lariat necklaces to her ensemble.  

Servant Scene. Daisy has weird dreams. No one wants to hear about them. Bates flubs a tray and earns everyone's scorn. Everyone helps clear dinner away, except for Thomas and O'Brien, who are "plotting", as Anna astutely points out.

Next day. Or days later. Can't tell. Cora is at the Dower House with Lady Violet. They're both in black, and Cora is extra dressed-up for going out and dealing with the force of nature that is her mother-in-law. Black, black, black, but oh, so stylish. She may have had an old coat dyed, or she may have had a new coat made, but either way, enough time has passed for her to pull together a wardrobe that is nearly as chic as her normal one. Her hat is probably new, too, as it's up-to-the-second fashionable. Love the wide swooping brim and the pointy feathers. The whole outfit insulates her and makes her look more formidable, like armor. Lady Violet is dressed fairly simply, for her, but her bodice is still beaded and her eyes are still beady. 

Cut to a lovely shot of Sybil putting flowers in Mary's hair.  They're getting ready for the Duke of Crowborough's visit, and hey, look at that, they're in half-mourning, i.e., awash in purple, so it must be a few months later.  Then Edith comes in, wearing a printed black blouse and black skirt, and doesn't have a single nice thing to say. Cora comes in to chivvy them downstairs to greet their guest, and she's in a mauve dress with lots of detail on the overskirt and a frilly, high-collared blouse underneath. It looks a lot like her mourning dress from the funeral (also high-necked and unnecessarily fussy), so I'm guessing that she wears these super-conservative styles when she is in full Lady-of-the-Manor role: greeting guests and being as noble as noble can be. We'll get a look at all their dresses below.

Servant Scene. Carson is in heaven, although I can't imagine it's the first time a duke has come to visit. He overdoes it a bit, sneering at Daisy for asking to go out with the rest of the staff and trying his best to get Bates to stay hidden away like a good cripple. Bitchy Thomas is bitchy.

The Duke rolls up in high style: a blue and gold motor-coach.  Can't get any more regal than that, unless the thing was actually royal purple. He descends (with Robert, who presumably met him at the station), and look at that, we have our first script mistake!  Cora greets him as "Duke", and not "Your Grace". TOTALLY WRONG. Fellowes is a baron, he really should know this. Maybe Elizabeth McGovern muffed the line but the take was so good they decided to use it anyway.  

So here we have Robert (in a half-mourning burgundy tie--manlier than mauve!), the Duke in an unremarkable but probably top-of-the-line overcoat and suit, Cora in an elaborate, rank-announcing lavender dress, Mary in a mauve, cream and gray ensemble that's very chic (especially the drape-y blouse and those pearls), Sybil in a lilac dress that's straddling the line between adult and child (note the schoolgirlish white collar and cuffs), and dour old Edith, still in black and in the back.  She's really set apart from her sisters and mother here; the dark outfit makes her look very out of place, which is probably how she feels a lot of the time.

Source. You can't see it from this angle, but Edith is standing a good 3 feet behind Mary.
The Duke and Mary are left to entertain themselves (or each other, heh heh), which I can't imagine would be allowed. Surely she'd be chaperoned by her mother or one of her sisters at all times, even with a duke. But whatever. Off they go to the servants' quarters. Poor Mary has no idea how she's being used, or she'd never play with those pearls so coyly.  

Robert and Cora hang out in the sitting room with their hobbies. Cora's crewelwork manages to match her dress AND the room perfectly. It makes her seem very much at home and a part of her surroundings. 

The Duke creeps out Mary. Mary creeps out Bates. Bates tries to creep out the Duke by staring at him. I don't think it works.

Source. Look how high the waistband is. The Empire silhouette made a brief comeback right around this time.


Servant Scenes: Carson complains about Bates. He feels the honor of Downton is at stake when a maid serves at table. William is homesick. Mrs. Hughes is kind. She's also wearing a different dress, more formal, probably in the Duke's honor. Bates and Robert stiff-upper-lip each other again. I don't think we've seen Robert's silver watch chain before.  Everyone's prettying up for the Duke.

Dinner upstairs. Cora calls the Duke, "Duke". AGAIN. WHAT THE HELL, FELLOWES. I can't stay mad at her for long, though, because she's very glamourous in her diadem and dress, which is probably the best one she owns. It's a little racy, too, with that low, straight-across bodice giving us a hint of--I don't even know what to call that. Upper-boob? Topside-boob? 

Source. Topside boob. I choose topside boob.

Edith, the bitch, brings up the attic ramblings, and the Dowager, in all her finery (including a jet diadem--glamorous but still appropriate for mourning. Beat that for propriety!), tries to turn the conversation away from the indiscretion. It doesn't work. Mary is all tricked out again tonight to catch a duke. That necklace has to be seen to be believed. She's got feathers in her hair, too. She is not about to be shown up by her nasty younger sister, so she manages to shut her up. All the women except the Dowager are in black and gray--no half-mourning at dinner, apparently. Lady Violet is in maroon, but she's old. She can do what she likes.

And she does, boy howdy. Source.
Servant Scene. Bates and Anna cry, although not in front of each other.

Robert and the Duke talk over cigars. The Duke is a crafty bastard. He figures out what he needs to know, slips away from Mary after pissing off her father, and goes off to canoodle with Thomas. We all know how that ends. In his room he wears a rich mahogany silk dressing gown, half open to expose his manly chest. Thomas is still in his stiff livery, although he's removed his jacket. The Duke has all the power here. He blends into the room like he owns it, which he could if he wanted.
Source. Not the best view of the costumes, but the only one I could find that didn't have stupid stuff written across it.
Servant Scene. Mrs. Hughes and Carson, disappointed over the lack of marriage proposal from the Duke. Carson defends Mary because Mary's his favorite. Awww.

Robert and Cora get ready for bed. Cora practically blends into the bedclothes in that nice soft nightgown. Robert does too, with his khaki pajamas, once he takes off his robe. They ought to, it's their house and their bed.

Dawn at Downton.  Robert is in some weird-looking tweeds. Did grown men really wear plus-fours? I guess he's off to see to the estate today, now that a ducal marriage is off the table. Cora sees the duke out and calls him "Duke" a third time. That's it. I'm too tired to be outraged. She snarks at him that the girls would have been up to see him off if only they'd known he was going to (be such an ass and) leave early (as soon as he knew there was no money in marrying Mary). Her dress is elegant and royal purple; now who's in charge?  

Source. You better hang your head, Duke.
Bates is ready to go as well, but what's this? Robert has had a change of heart? Bates can stay? It wasn't right, Carson, it just wasn't right! And now we see the meaning of those tweeds: under his overcoat (dark, like Carson's coat, because he's a servant first), Bates' suit is the very same color as Robert's, and his tie is a mirror image of Robert's, the colors exactly switched. He's Robert's true companion after all!

Final scene: a nice house in Manchester, a mother and her adult son eating breakfast, a black-bordered letter; ladies and gents, get ready to meet Bachelor Numero Uno: Matthew Crawley! He's in a nice boring suit, but not as nice as the suits he'll be getting soon! His mother is the embodiment of middle-aged, middle-class comfort in her printed dress, frilly blouse, and semi-precious brooch.  Their lives are going to change. Smash to black.

Source.


Well, there we have it, folks. Stay tuned for Episode Two!

3 comments:

  1. In response to your outrage about Cora addressing the Duke as "Duke rather than "Your Grace", it's actually the correct form of address under the circumstances.

    An English duke and duchess should be addressed as "Duke" and “Duchess” by all persons conversing with them belonging to the upper classes in a social situation, and as “Your Grace” by all other classes. As such, we see the Crawleys address him as "Duke" and Thomas, a servant, address him as "Your Grace".

    There was also an episode - I don't remember which, in season 3 or 4 I think - where an older duchess was visiting and Tom made the mistake of addressing her as "Your Grace" and Mary immediately corrected him, telling him he was supposed to call her "Duchess". My past research from multiple sources have also confirmed that to be right.

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    1. Great attention to detail! I think this is correct from my research, as well.

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  2. As an American, Cora would have known about Tiffany solitaire diamond engagement rings, which became popular in the 1870s. As the Granthams probably married in the 1880s, she could well have wanted a Tiffany diamond ring.

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