One of the trickiest things about the art of costume design for movies and television is that it's not just about constructing fabulous garments or putting together outrageous outfits. The costume designer is also charged with putting together outfits that reflect the way real people dress and making sure they don't look like costumes.

Even for designers working in modern settings where this may seem no more complicated than a trip to the mall, the task is complex and requires making sure clothes fit the color palette of the film, look lived in and give the right subtle cues about a character -- from fit to style. Clothes that are too tight say one thing about a character; clothes that are too loose say another. And without a doubt, something perfectly tailored will help any character, and any person, project an air of success. The trick of costume design is often to figure out how to let the imperfections in a character's wardrobe shine.

For those designers working in historical contexts, the great challenge is to make clothes look authentic and not like costumes. One prime example of this was in Master and Commander, where the wool used to create military uniforms had to be distressed by exposure to seawater and salt in order to make the costumes look plausible.

Some costume designers take a different tact though, going more with what the audience expects to see more than what is historically accurate. The gowns worn by the emperor's sister in Gladiator are a prime example. Although they borrowed from ancient Roman fashion, they were very modern and looked more like Grecian-influenced casual wear and evening gowns than anything that would have been worn at the time. The audience was happy to accept this in the wake of other, more accurate costuming for other film characters. In fact, these dresses helped provide a point of access for viewers who felt they might not otherwise be interested in such a story.

Julie Taymor's Across the Universe, a retelling of the 60s using the music of the Beatles as if they weren't a superstar band of the age, was a constant battle between the director and the studio - to the point that she almost asked to have her name removed from the film. Controversy aside, however, the film is an amazing slice of life that celebrates the music, culture, conflict and clothes of the 1960s.

Albert Wolsky's costume design had to encompass the changing and conflicting aesthetics of the era, while also fitting into the heightened reality Taymor set out to create. This meant more than peasant blouses, bell-bottom jeans and crocheted hippie costumes. It also meant Wolsky had to be sure to include the earlier eras of dress that all this outrageous fashion was evolving from, which included the staid looks of the late 1950s and early 1960s.

While many costumes were created for the film, many also came from vintage shops and warehouses. Additionally, for a party scene featuring Bono from U2, several hundred pieces were borrowed from private costume collections. Here, the design took on a narrative feel, with all the costumes in the initial parts of the party sequence being constructed solely from black and white materials. As Bono's character takes the stage to sing I Am the Walrus, the party erupts in color with a sudden influx of multi-hued costumes and a range of special effects.

While the truly outrageous clothes of the 1960s are now a thing of fashion history, the looks showcased in Across the Universe continue to influence today's dress, which has remained markedly less structured than that of the first half of the 20th century. Flowing sleeves, attention to texture and the ubiquity of denim (even if we usually go for boot-cut instead of bell-bottom these days) are all continuing evidence that the clothes of the 1960s aren't nearly as in the past as we might think at first blush.

One of this year's leading Oscar contenders is The Curious Tale of Benjamin Button, a heart-wrenching story that spans 80 years. While the film's chronology is explicitly bracketed by 1918 and Hurricane Katrina, large swathes of the film rely on passing historical references, music and, of course, fashion, to help the audience get its bearings. Jacqueline West is the lead designer on the film, and some of her costume sketches and early test photos are available on the film's web site.

West's costumes don't just help the audience locate moments of the film in time; they help to delineate character by emphasizing class, age (a constantly shifting ground between body and mind in the narrative) and occupation. One key dress even had its vibrant red enhanced electronically after filming to make it the centerpiece of a highly charged moment of romance and desire.

While all of the film's period clothes are delightful, perhaps the most interesting work comes in the costumes worn by Benjamin and Daisy. West has not just had to reflect decades of fashion evolution but also the evolution of personal style. Body conscious clothes for the adult Daisy who retains the sensibilities of a dancer even once she can no longer perform is just one key example, while blue remains a dominant color in Benjamin's wardrobe even after he is no longer wearing the peacoat emblematic of his service aboard a tugboat drafted into WWII.

Where the movie's costume design really succeeds is in the degree to which is makes sure its clothes looked lived in as opposed to costume-like. It's easy to imagine pieces in various character wardrobes as a favorite sweater or a dress worn so much it is no longer retaining its shape quite right. Even a series of pajama and robe ensembles worn by Elizabeth, while looking expensive, also look slept it.

West could be a major contender for an Oscar for her costume design. While it's less showy than the ornate work of a film like The Duchess, the tasks it was charged with in the film are, in some ways, more challenging, especially when the modern eye understands most of the clothes shown on screen. Certainly, it's a fantastic study in the vocabulary of wardrobe.