The Patent Mammary Elevator

From a book entitled "The Beautiful Forever Tales", published 1869, by an anonymous author. This is yet another cautionary tale on the tragedy that awaits those who that involve themselves with so mundane and hopeless a pursuit as the pursuit of beauty. Paint, powder and so on were not so much an aesthetic choice in those days as a moral choice and tales such as this were common in reaction to the increased popularity and availability of cosmetics, falsies and the like.  The truly lovely woman concerned herself with devotion to God, husband, children and home, not with vulgar vanity. Some of these moral tales can be quite ponderous and heavy-handed. This one is quite funny, in my opinion.

The title, Beautiful Forever also refers to the name of a booklet published by the infamous Madame Rachel of the time.

"The science, secret, and art of attaining, improving, and preserving personal beauty, graceful development of the body, clear, soft, and lustrous skin, bright and sparkling eyes, luxuriant and glossy hair, profusion of whiskers and moustaches, sound, white, and regular teeth, by rational and hygienic means; likewise of removing or concealing deformities and blemishes of all kinds, including wrinkles, freckles, moles, wens, scars, discolorations, defective limbs, bust, etc., thus rendering the naturally plain person lovely and attractive, and preserving to old age the charms and vivacity of youth. For particulars apply to Madame Cleopatra Pompadour, New Bond Street."

Mrs. Jocund laid down the "Daily Telegraph" in a flutter of delight, while a radiant vision rose up before her—herself restored to youth and beauty once more by the rejuvenating, improving, preserving, and developing process of Madam Cleopatra Pompadour.

She cut the paragraph out, carefully pasted it on a card, called for her boots, put money in her purse, ordered a cab, and in an incredibly short space of time was in New Bond Street.

"What am I to do for you, madam," asked Cleopatra, smiling blandly, and thereby exposing a magnificent set of teeth, the beauty of which spoke volumes in favour of the Pompadour secret, as did also the clear, soft, and lustrous skin, the bright and sparkling eyes, the luxuriant and glossy hair, and the graceful development of body possessed by this remarkable woman.

Mrs. Jocund replied that she had called relative to an advertisement which had appeared in that day's "Telegraph," and tendered the paragraph alluded to.


Cleopatra bowed, motioned her visitor to a couch, and taking a place beside her, said: "To make you beautiful by rational and hygienic means: to give you a graceful development of body, clear, soft, and lustrous skin, bright and sparkling eyes, luxuriant and glossy hair, sound, white, and regular teeth—to endow you with charms which shall all be real—to make you Beautiful Forever, will require time, the change will be gradual, and the process is expensive— very expensive."

The patient's countenance fell, upon which the teeth gleamed again, and the lovely lips continued:

"But in the meantime—while the process is going on—I can make you beautiful by art—supply you with artificial charms of every kind and description: pads, for giving a graceful development to the body; belladonna, for making the eyes bright and sparkling; pearl powder, for rendering the skin clear, soft, and lustrous; rouge, for creating a ravishing blush; dye and interpolating tresses, for causing the hair to seem luxuriant and glossy; the finest ivory masticators, to represent sound, white, and regular teeth, and all these charms are so artfully constructed, and look so natural when on, as to defy detection. I can fill up your wrinkles with enamel, paint out your freckles, and remove or conceal any other deformities or blemishes you may have: moles, wens, scars, discolorations, defective limbs, or bust"

She then conducted the customer through her extensive warehouse, and succeeded in disposing of several articles, boxes of pearl powder, rouge, false tresses, and such like.

1900 cartoon, Jan Duch, Wiki Commons

THE PATENT MAMMARY ELEVATOR

At last they came to a glass case under which reposed a false bosom.

"That," said Cleopatra, "is the newest thing out. We call it the Patent Mammary Elevator, from mamma the Latin for breast. We sell great numbers of them. This one has been purchased by the Duchess of F------- y."

"How beautiful? What a marvel of art! And so natural. What is it made of?"

McClure's Magazine, 1900

"Of a thin skin of caoutouche, or India Rubber, filled with air. It is furnished with a little valve by which the size of the bosom can be regulated to suit individual taste—by blowing into the pipe you can increase the inflation of the bosom, making it larger without destroying its just proportions, and by a reverse process you can make it smaller."

"How ingenious. And, dear me, how light it is—why it is not heavier than a child's balloon. This one, you say, has been purchased by the Duchess of F------ y. Could you have another made for me exactly the same?"

"Egypt Awakening"', Francis Edwin
Elwell, Wiki Commons

THE BOSOM

The answer was favorable, and that evening the bosom was sent home.

The happy purchaser spent many hours each day admiring it, trying it on, and endeavouring to ascertain the exact dimensions which would be most becoming. Not being able to make up her mind as to what were the true dimensions of beauty, or perfect symmetry, she started off to the Exhibition to examine the works of eminent sculptors. The result was that she became more puzzled than ever, for some of the marble nymphs were quite flat and others remarkable for their mammary elevation. While pondering on the strange diversity of tastes exhibited by the artists, and scrutinizing the countenances of the visitors, to gather their opinion on the relative merits of delicacy of proportion and robustness, she suddenly remembered having left the key of the door in the press in which her mammary elevator was locked up. Imagine her consternation! Picture her horror!

STOLEN

Delineator Magazine, 1905

The maid servant, being of a prying disposition, is certain to open the press, and to be frightened into fits on discovering a severed human member reposing on the topmost shelf. What follows?—believing the remainder of the body to be hidden somewhere—perhaps uuder the bed or up the chimney—confident that a terrible crime has been perpetrated— the girl shrieks "murder"—the alarmed household rush to her assistance—the delicate secret transpires, and the result is that the unfortunate owner of the bosom is driven out of society by ridicule.

Upon reaching home Mrs. Jocund rushed up stairs to her room—her worst anticipations were realised—her bosom—the bosom was gone!

The owner of the stolen property sat down upon the bed and cried. The bosom was to have appeared in public at the morrow's cavalry ball, and now all the pleasing anticipations of triumph were doomed to disappointment—of the brilliant castle which she had constructed on the mammary elevation not a vestige was left. The charm had cost twenty pounds, and another twenty could not be commanded.

Who could have taken it? One of the servants of course. But which of them?

TRIUMPHANT APPEARANCE

The servants being summoned, were told that a certain article, which for reasons of a private nature, would not be named, had been taken out of a certain press, that a sovereign would be left upon the spot from which it had been removed, and that if the person who had taken the article would restore it, they might keep the money as a reward, and no questions asked. It was added that the person who had taken the article was known, and if it was not restored, would be dismissed.

The servants all loudly and indignantly disclaimed the imputed theft, observing that they had nothing to live by but their characters. The lady's maid wanted to know if it was she that was suspected. The housemaid made a similar demand.

Mrs. Jocund replied that she did not mean to impeach the honesty of the person she suspected, the article was doubtless taken as a joke. She hoped to see it back in its place that evening, and then there would be an end of the matter.

That evening the bosom, in some unaccountable way, found its way back to the shelf from which it had been taken, and the owner retired to rest with a light heart, to dream of coming triumphs.

The American Monthly Review of Reviews, 1901

"WHAT A MAGNIFICENT BUST!"

On the following night the bosom made it's appearance at the cavalry ball, and became the cynosure of all eyes, the envy of all the women, and the admiration of all the men. A murmur ran round the room, "What a magnificent bust!" In a moment the card of the bosom was full, and delighted were those who had succeeded in snapping it up.

THE BOSOM SWELLS

At first Mrs. J. felt rather afraid of detection, and trembled as she caught the piercing glances of her rivals scrutinising the graceful orbs as they rose and fell with respiration; but after a little time, finding the aforesaid glances continued to gleam with envy untinged with suspicion, she gathered confidence, and commenced to enjoy herself thoroughly. The rooms had not filled when, upon looking down, she discovered, with some little alarm, that the bosom had grown sensibly since her arrival. Yes—there could be no doubt about the matter—it had grown larger; but its increased robustness only added to its beauty. In the excitement of the dance the circumstance was forgotten. Shortly after she went out to flirt and cool herself upon the stairs, where she remained for upwards of an hour, at the end of which time the bosom had assumed its original dimensions. Upon returning to the dancing room she found the apartment had become crowded during her absence, and insufferably hot, but being an inveterate disciple of Terpsichore, she did not hesitate to elbow her way in, and join in the rapid evolutions of the waltz which was going on. Round, round, round she went in a delirium of pleasure, thinking of nothing but the triumph of the moment, for she had as partner the handsomest man in the room. Observing that everybody stared at her, and even the other couples all stopped to gaze, as if spell bound, and attributing the sensation to her own graceful movements, she felt much gratified, and increased her exertions.

Suddenly her partner stopped too, and addressing her very gravely, said, "Madam, I fear you are very ill. Rest one moment here, while I summon Doctor Hargrove, who is in the next room."

Durston, "Giantomastia"' , Wiki Commons

IT GETS BIGGER AND BIGGER

Following the direction of the speaker's eye, the unhappy woman looked down, and discovered that the bosom was swollen to enormous dimensions, and was still rising—still expanding—still getting bigger and bigger. 


Oh! the agony of that moment! She grew crimson, and tried to reach the door, but the room was crowded, the stairs were jammed, and retreat in time seemed impossible.

LAMENTABLE CATASTROPHE

"I am ill—Oh! I am very ill—let me go home?" she implored.

"Take my arm, madam," said an elderly gentleman, who proved to be Doctor Hargrove, "Lean on me—make way, gentlemen —make way, ladies—don't you see the lady is very ill!"

They did see it, they thought she was dying, and, regardless of their delicate ball dresses, tried to make a passage. Some fainted, some went into hysterics, while others came close to examine the preternatural phenomenon.

"Oh, quick, quick, please, quick, quick," prayed the unhappy possessor, seeing the bosom was now swollen nigh to bursting, and was still increasing in size, so that a catastrophe seemed inevitable; and, wild with despair, she battled with those who opposed her progress.

COLLAPSE OF THE BOSOM

Alas, it was too late! Before she had got half way across the room, the patent mammary elevator exploded—the bosom blew up with a loud report, and then, collapsing, shriveled up to nothing!!!

The wretched owner, terrified by the anticipations of exposure, fainted. And well, perhaps, for her was it that she did so before the true nature of the catastrophe was made evident by the withered fiction popping up, like a liberated jack in the box, from the ruins of the lately blooming fiction. The universal and unextinguishable burst of laughter which then arose would have killed her.

The secret of the explosion was this: the artificial bosom had been abstracted, not by any of the servants, but by those two incorrigible practical jokers, Hal Higgins and Sam Spoon. These malicious humourists had introduced into each of the mammary orbs a small quantity of a fluid which has the property of vapourising at a very low temperature. When the ball-room grew crowded, the temperature became sufficiently elevated to cause the ether to commence changing its state to a gaseous fluid, thereby expanding the bosom until the thin India Rubber sides, being no longer able to sustain the tension caused by the liberated gas, were rent asunder with great violence.

"Phyrne", anonymous, Wiki Commons

Following the Fashion~

An article, "WOMEN'S DRESS" from a book entitled "Old Times: a Picture of Social Life at the End of the Eighteenth Century", by John Ashton, 1885.


I've copied the article in it's entirety. The line drawings are from the book, I've taken the liberty of including the actual Gillray and Cruikshank images when I could find them rather than the author's line drawings...I've also thrown in a few illustrations from other publications that I thought illustrated the text well. 


A good read, with lots of snippets from newspapers and magazines of the day.

The earliest Lady's fashion book I can find in the British Museum, is "The Lady's Monthly Museum," &c. "By a Society of Ladies,"—and it was published in 1799—or just the last year of which this book takes cognizance. But, luckily, the satirical prints supply the want, in a great measure, although they are somewhat exaggerated. From them we are able to see pictorially what might be hard to describe, and may be perfectly certain that they represent "the very last thing out" at their date of Publication. If, then, we have very little written about female attire, in 1788, and the next year, or two, we must be content with viewing the verce effigies of the belles of that time.

Indoor Costumes, 1788

Brighton, of course, was the fashionable wateringplace, for there were the life and gaiety of the young Court, in contradistinction to the humdrum existence led by the King, Queen, and younger branches of the Royal Family, at Weymouth. So it will be interesting to know their habits at this famous sea-side resort. The Morning Post, 18th September 1788, has the following :—

"The Ladies have no particular dress for the morning, but huddle away to the bathing place, in close caps, and gipsey bonnets, so that they look like a set of wandering fortune-tellers, who have just had the opportunity of pillaging the contents of a frippery warehouse, with which they had bedecked themselves in haste.


"It is to be remarked that the ladies do not atone for the negligence of the morning, by neatness, and elegance, during the rest of the day, but shuffle on something by dinner time, covering themselves with an enormous nondescript bonnet, which, to the confusion of all order, they afterwards think a proper garb for the Assembly."

In doors, the dresses were not so outre, as we see by the two illustrations taken from "The School for Scandal," 1st August 1788.

"A Cotillion", 1788

Fashions for 1788

That ladies copied the eccentricities of male attire, and made them their own, we have proof in this cutting from the Morning Post, I5th January 1789 :—

"Among other fashions lately introduced from Paris is the brace of gold watch chains now sported by our fashionable females. Some economical husbands may wish their wives were less imitative."

The Duchess of York

The portrait of the Duchess of York (the Princess Frederique, Charlotte, Ulrique, Catherine, of Prussia, married to the Duke, November 1791), shews us the indoor dress of a lady of rank in 1792. She had a remarkably small foot, and many were the delineations of her shoes—actual size, &c.

Of all curious freaks of fashion the following is the most incomprehensible, yet it doubtless obtained :—

"The fashion of dressing, at present, is to appear prominent, and the stays are made accordingly. This is holding out a wish to be thought in a thriving way, even without the authority of the Arches Court of Canterbury—something in the French way—a philosophical desire to be conspicuously great with Mischief, without any regard to law or reason. The idea was at first sent forward by a few dropsical Ladies."—(Times, March 25, 1793.)

"The Wapping Land-ladies are all at the very pinnacle of the fashion. Nature has given them prominences which far outpicture the false mountains at the West end of the town. It is not only the fashion of appearing six months gone, that prevails with the ladies—but that of not having any waists, so that, even with their prominences, they may be called—No-body." (Times, April 15, 1793.)

"Six Stages of Mending a Face", Rowlandson

A series of prints were published which represent the amount of indebtedness, ladies were under, to Art, to repair the ravages made by Nature.


~No. I shows us most graphically the. "levee au matin." —Tears drop from the eyeless socket—a yawn discloses the want of teeth, and, the handkerchief, tied round the head, which does service for a night cap, tells a sad tale of baldness.


~In No. 2 the defect of nature is being remedied by the insertion of a glass eye—which the subsequent illustrations prove to be very effective.


~No. 3 shows the triumph of the hairdresser's art; and, certainly, it adds much to the ladies personal attractions.


~In No. 4 false teeth are being inserted, to replace those, of which unkind nature has robbed her.


~No. 5 applies the bloom of youth to the faded cheek, —a bloom that never yet deceived any one.


~In No. 6 the Belle has finished her toilette, and is now prepared to break all hearts.

This series is attributed to Rowlandson—and, most probably, is his work. It is called "Six Stages of making a face.—Dedicated with respect to Lady Archer," of which lady we shall hear more anon under the head of " Gaming."

Waists, as may have been perceived by the last two, or three examples, have been gradually disappearing, until, as in "The Scarecrow," they became practically nil. High feathers were beginning to come in, and, in addition to the "panache," was worn a curious thing made of straw, very much resembling the "bristle plume" which used to be worn in the Shakos of our Engineers, and Artillery. In imitation of the men, the ladies' throats were swathed in voluminous wrappers.

With very low bodices, and very high waists, came very scanty clothing, with an absence of petticoat, a fashion which left very little of the form to the imagination. I do not say that our English Belles went to the extent of some of their French sisters, of having their muslin dresses put on damp—and holding them tight to their figures till they dried—so as absolutely to mould them to their form, or that they ever discarded stockings, and went to balls with bare feet, and only wearing sandals, having on but the lightest of classical clothing—but their clothes were of the scantiest, and we shall find that, as year succeeded year, this fashion developed, if one can call diminution of clothing, development. Men made fun of it, vide the following from the Times, I2th August, 1794:—"Amongst prudent papas, the favourite toast at this time is 'The present fashion of our wives and daughters,' viz. No Waste."

There was a very pretty song, called "Shepherds, I have lost my love, Have you seen my Anna ?"—and this was parodied as follows—the music being the same as the original song:—

SHEPHERDS, I HAVE LOST MY WAIST.                             


"Shep-herds, I have lost my waist, Have you seen my bo - - dy
Sac-ri-ficed to mo-dern taste, I'm quite a hod - dy dod - - dy.


Tisgone,andl have not a nook For cheesecake, tart, or jel - ly.

Never shall I see it more,

   Till, common sense returning, 

My body to my legs restore, 

  Then I shall cease from mourning, 

Folly and fashion do prevail 

  To such extremes among the fair, 

A woman's only top and tail, 

The body's banish'd God knows where!'

That a fashion may become one person, and not another, is peculiarly exemplified by the two following pictures by Gillray, 9th December, 1794, both called "Following the Fashion : "—

Gillray~ "Following the Fashion", image source, wiki

"St . James's giving the Ton, I "Cheapside aping the Mode, a Soul without a Body." I a Body without a Soul."

note~ the author appears to be referencing the two women in this one picture~

"Leaving off Powder"... Gillray

 The tax on Hair powder was much objected to; people had been used, for a long time, to grease, and powder their hair and wigs; and, when the duty of a Guinea per head was passed, many left off using it. The illustration "Leaving off Powder, or a Frugal family saving a Guinea," was doubtless the fact in many a family. The man, in the coloured engraving, with his "crop," to our eyes does not look so singular, as the lady, with her "fausse chevelure" unpowdered looks so bad, that, no wonder, ladies reverted to their own locks, as we see in future illustrations. So also shall we see the "Cap " of the period, the length of which is most amusingly portrayed.

The wearing of false hair is of very early origin, inasmuch as we possess, in the British Museum, an early Egyptian wig, and, in every age, we find women supplementing their natural attractions, by the addition of some one else's hair. Here is a Hair-dresser's advertisement of 1795, wherein is not only mentioned the price, &c., of hair, but shows the antiquity of the "Chignon," which, otherwise, many might think of modern date.

"TO THE LADIES.—T. BOWMAN respectfully acquaints the Ladies, that he has entirely removed his Shop and Manufactory to No. 102 New Bond Street, near Brook Street. Firmly relying upon the future favors and recommendation of his old Customers, and trusting to the superiority of his articles, he has augmented his stock of Chignons or Braids, from 600 to near 1000, in 14 shades (not 20) of brown colours, besides Auburns, Flaxens, &c., and in 8 lengths (not 50) at Ids., 14s., £1 1s.,^1 us. 6d., £2 zs., £3 3s., £4 4s., and £6 6s. each. Any colour matched in all the sizes in a minute. T. Bowman formerly gave a description of his Braids, but that has been copied by another and applied unto his own, without their possessing one requisite for which Bowman's Braids have been distinguished: and, not contented with slaying by twenties, he now kills by fifties. Bravo! Captain Boabdill, fifty more, kill them!!! As for the shades, what with Chinese hairs, mixing, and dying, he may have them (as he says) of every tint, but for real, natural, Brown colours. T. Bowman, with by far the greatest stock in the Kingdom, cannot make more than 14 shades; he can only challenge a comparison, and pledges himself to make good every assertion he has at any time made. His Brunswick fillets, an entire new and elegant article, with curls complete, fit either for morning or full dress, from 7s. 6d. to los. 6d. each, with Tetes, Borders, and every article in ornamental Hair, much cheaper than at any shop in town: having a very large stock, and dealing for ready money only, he has as yet made no advance on his old prices, although the price of hair is now double. Country orders, with money, or reference, duly observed. Chignons, &c, changed when not approved of, if not powdered."—(Times, June 22, 1795.)

"Corsettes about six inches long, and a slight buffon tucker of two inches high, are now the only defensive paraphernalia of our fashionable Belles, between the necklace and the apronstrings.— (Times, June 24, 1795.)

"The annual City Assemblies, from the glowing colours which decorate the belles, may be now fairly styled red-hot balls."—(Times, Dec. 29, 1795.)

But Feathers were now used on the shafts levelled at the vagaries of Fashion.

"At all elegant Assemblies, there is a room set apart for the lady visitants to put their feathers on, as it is impossible to wear them in any carriage with a top to it. The lustres are also removed upon this account, and the doors are carried up to the height of the ceiling. A well-dressed Lady, who nods with dexterity, can give a friend a little tap upon the shoulder across the room, without incommoding the dancers. The Ladies' feathers are now generally carried in the sword-case, at the back of the carriage."—(Times, Dec. 29, 1795.)

"A young lady, only ten feet high, was overset in one of the late gales of wind, in Portland Place, and the upper mast of her feather blown upon Hampstead Hill."

"The maroon fever has been succeeded by a very odd kind of light-headedness, which the physicians call the ptereo mania, or feather folly."

"The Ladies now wear feathers exactly of their own length, so that a woman of fashion is twice as long upon her feet as in her bed."—(Times, Dec. 30, 1795.)

"We saw a feather in Drury Lane Theatre, yesterday evening, that cost ten guineas. We should have thought the whole goose not worth the money."—(Times, Jan. 6, 1796.)

Here is a contrivance by which "A Modern Belle going to the Rooms or Balls" can go fully dressed, with her feathers fixed :—

"There is to be seen in Gt. Queen Street, a Coach upon a new construction. The Ladies set in this well, and see between the spokes of the wheels. With this contrivance the fair proprietor is able to go quite dressed to her visits, her feathers being only a yard and a half high."—(Times, Jan. 22, 1796.)

The freaks of fashion, towards the latter end of 1795, are most curious. "Waggoner's frocks," and the "Petticoat" dress, are singular illustrations of feminine taste. This latter is noticed in a paragraph in the Times, 27th Oct. 1795. "The present fashionable dress is the most simple imaginable. The petticoat is pinned to the Cravat, and the arms come out at the pocket holes."

"The only new fashions that remain for our modern belles are certainly puzzling and difficult. There can be nothing new. but going either dressed or naked."—(Times, Jan. 27, 1796.)

The following paragraph from the Times refers not only to the general absence of dress, but also to the famous (or infamous) Miss Chudleigh, a maid of Honour to the Queen, afterwards Duchess of Kingston, and tells the story of how the Princess of Wales, wife of Frederick (father of George III.), rebuked her for her nakedness.

"One night, when the late Duchess of Kingston appeared at Ranelagh in a dress which may be compared with the undress of some of our fashionable belles, a handkerchief was thrown to her, not from the Prince, but the Princess of Wales."—(Times, March 5, 1796.)

"Ladt Godiva's Rout", Gillray

"Lady Godiva's Rout, or Peeping Tom spying out Pope Joan," is by Gillray, I2th March 1796, and is a scathing satire on the extremely decollete'e, and diaphonous, dresses of the time. The fair one, whose uncovered bosom so attracts the candle snuffer, is intended to represent Lady Georgiana Gordon, afterwards Duchess of Bedford.

"High Change in Bond Street", Gillray

"High Change in Bond Street" is by Gillray (27th March 1796), and is a most amusing caricature of the then prevalent fashions both of men and women. The "Bond Street Loungers," are depicted to perfection.

"At the late Fandango Ball in Dublin, a certain Lady of Fashion appeared in the following very whimsical dress:—Flesh coloured pantaloons, over which was a gauze petticoat, tucked up at each side in drapery, so that both thighs could be seen; the binding of the petticoat was tied round the neck, and her arms were through the pocket holes. Her head dress was a man's pearl coloured stocking, the foot hanging down at the back of the head like a lappet, and in the heel of the stocking was stuck a large diamond pin, the tout ensemble not less novel, than ludicrous.1'—(Times, May 26, 1796.)

 "Whalebone- Veils are worn by all the fashionable dames at Weymouth. This invention is evidently borrowed from the head of a one horse chaise."—(Times, August 27, 1796.)

"High heels are once more the rage; there is, however, no scarcity of flats. During the reign of the flat sole, the Ladies make more faux-pas than ever, so that we need entertain no apprehensions for them, if they chuse to get upon stilts. What with high heels and high feathers, the better half of many an honest man is just one third part of herself."—(Times, August 27, 1796.)

"Fashion would be its own murderer, if it were to be constant and permanent. The last year's dress seems to abdicate entirely; even the waist is walking down towards the hip; and three straps, with buckles in front, have abridged so much of the usurpation of the petticoat . One cannot see so many Ladies of high ton with the straps over the bosom, without thinking how much better they might have been employed over the shoulders."—(Times, Aug. 27, 1796.)

"Before the waist is quite again in fashion, and while the thing exists (which will soon be incredible), we set down the measurement of a petticoat in the summer of 1796, which for a middling-sized woman is five foot and an inch."—(Times, Nov. 4, 1796.)

"It would not be easily believed by our Great Grandmothers, that their lovely daughters cannot make their appearance without a dozen combs in their heads, and as many false curls and cushions. The victory over black pins is complete."—(Times, May 30, 1797.)

"Horse Hair has risen near 50 per cent, since Wigs have become so much the rage."—(Times, April 27, 1798.)

"The women at Paris are every day divesting themselves of some of the customary articles of dress, and the rage for nudity is so great, that it is apprehended, even by the Parisian Journalists, they will shortly have the effrontery to present themselves to the public eye in a state of pure nature. One of them appeared a few days since in the Champs Elysdes, in a simple robe of spotted black gauze, and shewed so much that little was left to guess. The spectators were struck with indignation at this flagrant violation of decorum, and she was compelled to make a shameful and precipitate retreat."— (Times, June 18, 1798.)

An Artist has advertised that he makes up worn out Umbrellas into fashionable Gypsey Bonnets. The transition is so easy, that he is scarce to be praised for the invention.

"The Gypsey Bonnet is commonly worn by the Lancashire Witches."—(Times, July 7, 1798.)

"We are very happy to see the waists of our fair. country women walking downwards by degrees towards the hip. But, as we are a little acquainted with the laws of increasing velocity in fashionable gravitation, we venture to express, thus early in their descent, a hope that they will stop there."—(Times, April 15, 1799.)

"Straw in the head-dress, according to the laws and immemorial customs of the stage, denotes the unsoundness of the brain it covers. Several of those useful and respectable young men, who make the campaign of Bond Street, have thought proper to invest their temples with the sacred symbols, and wear straw hats to give notice of their light-headedness."— (Times, July 4, 1799.)

The Censor could also be severe on the harmless "Reticule."

"In the present age of political innovation, it is curious to observe the great veneration for antiquity which prevails in all our dresses and fashions. Queen Elizabeth's ruffs decorate our blooming belles; and our beaux are puckered and stuffed on the shoulders d la Richard the Third. But what is still more remarkable, is the total abjuration of the female pocket. Those heavy appendages are no more worn at present than keys at the girdles. Every fashionable fair carries her purse in her workbag. Her money and her industry lie cheek by jowl: and her gambling gains lie snug by her housewife. Her handkerchiefs, her toothpick case, her watch, and her keys, if she has any, are the constant concomitants of her visits; and while no part of the symmetry of her shape is altered or concealed by the old-fashioned panniers, she has the pleasure of laying everything that belongs to her upon the table wherever she goes."—(Times, Nov. 9, 1799.)

"A dashing Lady of Fashion, inconvenienced by the new custom of carrying a bag with her handkerchief smelling-bottle, purse, &c., &c., went to a large party the other evening, attended by a Page, who was employed to present the articles as they might be wanted. The Page was well qualified to go through the fatigues of office, being well-made, active, and just one and twenty. Should the example be imitated, Pages will probably be more in request than waiting-women."— (Times, Def. 7, 1799.)

"If the present fashion of nudity continues its career, the Milliners must give way to the Carvers, and the most elegant fig-leaves will be all the mode.

"The fashion of false bosoms has at least this utility, that it compels our fashionable fair to wear something."—(Times, Dec. n, 1799.)

With which most pungent criticism, we will take our leave of lady's dress.

Cruikshank, 1799