CLOTHES maketh the man . . . or in this case, the tragic heroine.

Constraints of costume generally echo the constraints of the society in which they are set, but for the Gate's Christmas production of Anna Karenina, designer Simon Higlett has fixed on just the one costume for Tolstoy's eponymous character. Gone are the endless changes of silk ballgowns, velvet cloaks and mink muffs . . . this new adaptation condenses the book down to a two-hour play with Anna and Levin relating their story to each other to explain the action.

It's very much a theatrical experience, explains the awardwinning, London-based Higlett, who has worked on a range of stage productions with directors such as Peter Hall, playwright David Hare and actors Judi Dench and Felicity Kendall, to name but an impressive few. Being very familiar with a play is only part of the work of a set and costume designer. "You have to be able to see the story and then translate that on the stage. This adaptation of Anna Karenina was a challenge as it's quite different from the book, " says Higlett.

Set among the upper-crust of late 1870s' St Petersburg and Moscow, there are snow-covered hats and fur-lined greatcoats aplenty for the Russian male aristos, but corsets and bustles have been left in the wardrobe this time round to allow female characters more freedom on stage. Given that many of the actors are also called upon to become horses, and even a train, at a certain point, it was the shape of the stage that proved as much a challenge to Higlett as the shape of the actors.

"We abandoned the idea of trains on the dresses as the stage slopes forward and is also slightly saucershaped . . . which plays havoc with ladies hemlines. Dispensing with corsets is quite a risk to take for the particular female outline of that period too, but it has worked out really well. The bustles at the back of gowns, which emphasised the hourglass figure, have also been modified, giving more of an illusion of silhouette than yards of fabric."

The shape of finances is also a major consideration for any set or costume designer, with budget very much dictating the look of a production. All of the female characters' costumes were specially made for this adaptation of Anna Karenina, explains Higlett, while the men's were created from stock pieces. "Levin's coat is fully fur-lined, which would have been prohibitive to make from scratch."

All of which would have made delightful tittle-tattle for the likes of Sir Oliver Surface, Mr Snake, Benjamin Backbite and Lady Sneerwell at the Abbey. The National Theatre's Christmas production is Richard Brinsley Sheridan's 18th-century satire, The School for Scandal, which includes the aformentioned bunch of gossip-mongering harpies.

Costume designer Leonore McDonagh was putting the finishing touches to a pair of elaborate earrings when the Sunday Tribune spoke to the wardrobe department last week and she explained that this new staging demands 40 costumes in all. Because of the bitchy nature of the central players, McDonagh and head of costume design, Joan O'Clery, opted for equally acidic, biting colours. "We went to Paris to buy the vibrant green, yellow and red fabrics that would enhance the barbed, nasty comments of the characters, " explains O'Clery, adding that the costumes are more to do with explaining their nasty nature, rather than being strictly authentic to 18th-century dress.

Sheridan's play is very relevant to current fixations with celebrity and gossip and is billed as the 18th-century version of Hello! magazine . . . with white lead rather than fake tan. "Everything, including the set, is designed to emphasise the players and the sort of character assassination they are obsessed with, " says O'Clery. "It's quite wicked. But wickedly funny too."