Showing posts with label seventeenth century. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seventeenth century. Show all posts

Sunday, August 12, 2012

An Idea of the Arts of Beautifying, Perfuming, Alchymy and Chiromancie

How can one resist a sales pitch like this?


By our directions you may attain such a rosid colour, and such a lively cheerfulness, as shall not only make you look like natures workmanship, but also put admiration into the beholders, and fix them in a belief, that you are the first-fruits of the resurrection. Thus we teach you lippid mortalls to retrace the steps of youthfulness, and to transform the wrinkled hide of Hecuba into the tender skin of the greatest of beauties, which then you will dull by the advance of your Features, and make all conceited shadows of glory, to vanish in your presence. When once your artificial heat shall appear, others shall seem pale with envy for your perfections; and their natural ruddiness shall only serve them to blush, to see their features clouded by your splendor, who will seem like brown bread compared with Manchet,or rather like wooden dishes upon a shelf of China ware,or as another once said, like blubber'd jugs in a cupboard of Venice glasses, or as earthen piss pots in a Goldsmiths shop. By this means your sparkling Glories shall fire Platonick Lovers, so that none though as cold as Saturn, shall be able to resist your actuating flames, but shall force the stoutest heart, to be a Sacrifice to Love. 


by William Salmon, Professor of Physick, 1685. The treatise, "Polygraphice: Or the Arts of Drawing, Engraving, Etching, Limming, Painting ..." will teach you to draw, paint, engrave, sculpt AND prepare cosmetics that will make you astoundingly youthful and beautiful! Never mind that some of the recipes contain mercury and other nefarious ingredients... proceed at your own risk:)

a link to the book: polygraphice
































Thursday, July 12, 2012

The Masked Woman ~~

"The Winter Habit of an English Gentlewoman"
I love it~ masked in order to hide the fact that one does not blush at tawdry bits~!


Francis Bacon somewhere remarks that politeness veils vice just as dress masks wrinkles. Perhaps this saying of his was founded on the circumstance, that Queen Elizabeth not only wore dresses of increasing splendour with increasing age, but that she also used occasionally to appear masked on great gala occasions. The mode thus royally given, was not however very speedily or generally followed. The introduction of masks as a fashion appears to have "obtained," as old authors call it, only about the year 1660. Pepys, in 1663, says that he went to the Royal Theatre, and there saw Howard's comedy of ' The Committee' (known to us in it's new form and changed name of ' The Honest Thieves'). He designates it as "a merry but indifferent play, only Lacy's part, an Irish footman, is beyond imagination." Among the company were Viscount Falkenberg, or Falconbridge, with his wife, the third daughter of Cromwell. " My Lady Mary Cromwell," he goes on to say, " looks as well as I have known her, and well clad; but when the house began to fill, she put on her vizard, and so kept it on all the play; which of late is become a great fashion among the ladies, which hides their whole face. So" he adds,—and it shows, does that sighed-forth " So " the melancholy consequence of leading wives into temptation,—"So to the Exchange, to buy things, with my wife ; among others a vizard for herself."


Certainly that pretty precisian, Mary Cromwell, in a vizard at the play, sounds oddly; one would as soon expect to hear of Mrs. Chisholm at a Casino! No wonder Mrs. Pepys admired her !


But Mrs. Pepys was not very long content with her English vizard; for six months after we find the little man, her husband, recording—" To Covent Garden, to buy a maske at the French house, Madame Charett's, for my wife." The taste of Mrs. Pepys was doubtless influenced by the example of the court, " where six women, my Lady Castlemaine and Duchess of Monmouth being two of them, and six men, the Duke of Monmouth, and Lord Arran, and Monsieur Blanfort (Lord Feversham) being three of them, in vizards, but most rich and antique dresses, did dance admirably and most gloriously." What Pepys thought of the fashion and the time is seen again by a sighing comment—"God give us cause to continue the mirth!"


The fashion was still in full force in 1667; and to what purpose it was used, and to what purpose it might be abused, may be seen in the following extract:


" To the King's House to ' The Maid's Tragedy,' but vexed all the while with two talking ladies and Sir Charles Sedley; yet pleased to have their discourse, he being a stranger. And one of the ladies would and did sit with her mask on through all the play; and, being as exceeding witty as ever I heard woman, did talk most pleasantly with him; but was, I  believe, a virtuous woman, and of quality. He would fain know who she was, but she would not tell; yet did give him many pleasant hints of her knowledge of him, by that means setting his brains at work to find out who she was, and did give him leave to use all means to find out who she was, but pulling off her- mask. He was mighty witty and she also making sport with him very inoffensively, that a more pleasant rencontre I never heard;" and then once more a groaning commentary—"but by that means lost the pleasure of the play wholly."


In the following year Pepys makes record of his having been at Bartholomew Fair with his wife and a party. We " took a link," he says, " the women resolving to be dirty, and walked up and down to get a coach; and my wife being a little before me, had like to have been taken up by one whom we saw to be Sam Hartlib. My wife had her vizard on; yet we cannot say that he meant any hurt; for it was just as she was by a coach side, which he had, or had a mind to take up: and he asked her, ' Madam, do you go in this coach  but as soon as he saw a man come to her (I know not whether he knows me) he departed away apace." By all which we may see that a vizard at a fair was evidently an outward and visible sign," recognized by the rakes and gallants of the locality.


A vizard in the Park, at dusk, was equally intelligible; and though the men were not masked at that or any other hour, they were at that time and place more than sufficiently disguised.


 " And now" says Vincent, in Sir George Etherege's comedy of ' Love in a Wood, or St. James's Park'—now a man may carry a bottle under his arm, instead of his hat, and no observing, spruce fop will miss the cravat that lies on one's shoulder, or count the pimples on one's face." As at park and fair, so fell the convenient covering into evil application at the play itself. The matter is alluded to by the Widow Blackacre in the epilogue to the
 ' Plain Dealer':


" For as in Hall of Westminster 
 Sleek sempstress vends amid the Courts her ware ; 
 So while we bawl, and you in judgment sit, 
 The visor-mask sells linen too i: the pit." 


By the end of the seventeenth century the fashion of masks was being tarnished by vulgarity; and the practice of concluding comedies with a ' Marriage in a Mask,' a ceremony which may not have been unusual, was already considered as a stale device. Congrevc winds up two of his comedies, ' The Old Bachelor,' and ' Love for Love,' with this jovial sort of bouquet.


The mode however still held on at the theatre. The latter was never more licentious than now, and the ladies never so much loved to resort thither. Our great grandmothers however, when young, were extremely modest: many of them were afraid of venturing to a new play till their lovers assured them they might do so without offence to their exquisite delicacy. The bolder spirits, still modest but impatient, went in masks,—not unwilling to listen to savoury uncleanness, but so modest that they could not bear any one to see that they did not blush at it. " Such incidents as these," says the ' Spectator,' " make some ladies wholly absent themselves from the playhouse; and others never miss the first night of a new play, lest it should prove too luscious to admit of their going with any countenance to the second;"—a most exquisite reason. It was good enough however to authorize vizards; and the theatre became something like what Nat Lee in his ' Nero' describes Mount Ida to have been,—


" Where the gods meet and dance in masquerade "


But Mount Ida had something divine about it, which our stage in the days of vizards certainly had not. As Joe Haines said to his masked audience, in the concluding lines of the prologue to the very play just named—


" All tragedies, egad! to me sound oddly; 
  I can no more be serious than you godly." 


The fashion, after it had been indifferently well worn by the ladies, of course fell to their maids, and Abigail wore the vizard which Lady Betty dropped. In Malcolm's ' London' (eighteenth century) a writer is quoted, whose communication shows whither the masks had fallen in 1731. It is in a letter on " Boxing Day," and in it occurs the following passage :


—" My friend next carried me to the upper end of Piccadilly, where, one pair of stairs over a stable, we found near a hundred people of both sexes (some masked, others not), a great part of which were dancing to the music of two sorry fiddles. It is impossible to describe this medley of mortals fully; however, I will do it as well as I can. There were footmen, servant-maids, butchers, apprentices, oyster and orange women, and sharpers, which appeared to be the best of the company. This horrid place seemed to be a complete nursery for the gallows. My friend informed me it was called ' a threepenny hop;' and while we were talking, to my great satisfaction, by order of the Westminster justices, to their immortal honour, entered the constables and their assistants, who carried off all the company that was left; and had not our friend been known to them, we might have paid dear for our curiosity."


"The Vanity of Women: Masks and Bustles", attributed to Maarten de Vos
article source: "Habits and Men: with Remnants of Record Touching the Makers of Both", By Dr. Doran (John),  1855

Saturday, June 9, 2012

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



Thursday, April 12, 2012

The Rise and Fall of the Ruff. And other things...




Mademoiselle de Maupin, seventeenth century Paris Opera star

I'm not sure how to approach this blog entry. The article below is a generalized lampooning of women's fashions, focusing in particular on Mademoiselle de Maupin. Not the REAL Mademoiselle de Maupin (aka Julie d'Aubigny), pictured above, but the Mlle. Maupin featured in Theophile Gautier's 1834 novel entitled "Mademoiselle De Maupin"! Confused? I am as well:) I've posted the article in it's entirety, with a few images thrown in for fun. Queen Elizabeth I popularized the ruff, and it is said that the ruff died on the gallows with Anne Turner. We have an image of Madame Frontenac, with a, well, a large hat.

It seems that the author used Mademoiselle de Maupin as a jumping-off point to satirize other objectionable fashions. It's rather scatter-shot, but amusing.

It's quite possible that this article is a lampooning of the book, not having read it, I don't know... The original La Maupin was reputed to be quite a swashbucker~!


A CONSCIENTIOUS CHRONICLE OF PRETTY WOMEN'S PRETTIEST FROCKS.

(By an Unborn Babe-)

Chapter XXV.—After The Ruffs. Away with the ruffs. Here is another style, rather different. How do you like it? The sleeves still large, the collar very large indeed, but lying down now, and no end of a hat!' "Je me suis figure," says Theophile Gautier, writing of Mademoiselle De Maupin,—" Je me suis figure bien souvent le costume que porterait mon heroine: une robe de velours ecarlate nu noir, avec des creves de satin blanc ou de toile d'argent, un corsage ouvert, une grande fraise a la Medicis, un' chapeau de feutre capricieusement rompu comme celui d' Helena Systerman, et de longues plumes blanches frisees et crespelees."


Goodness only knows why ruffs went out. It could not possibly be only because they were a little bit uncomfortable, for every right-thinking woman would suffer indescribable torments, and does suffer them every day, to be pretty. Yellow starch had become unfashionable, it is true, since Mrs. Turner, the cosmetic seller, went to the gallows with a yellow ruff round her neck, to be hanged for her share in the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury. You may see from this that it was somewhat of an unenlightened age. Later on, Mr. Walker, a hatter in a small way in Fetter Lane, had the good fortune to sell one of his hats to Muller the murderer. Only a few years have elapsed since then, and I see Mr. Walker's shop has stretched itself nearly a third of the length of the lane. If another murderer would only go and buy another hat of him, he would most likely require the other two-thirds, at least, to conduct his business.


MADEMOISELLE DE MAUPIN.


Mme Maupin
Queen Elizabeth having died (leaving behind her a wardrobe of three thousand gowns), ruffs somehow began to get smaller, and died away altogether at last. Meanwhile stockings became popular. Queen Elizabeth's black silk ones I have already told you of. When Mary Queen Of Scots went to the scaffold, she wore stockings of blue worsted, clocked and tipped with silver, and under them another pair of white. Public attention having been directed to ladies' stockings, it would appear that garters got to be thought about too, for we find them manufactured for ladies at this period of gold and silver, costing four and five pounds a pair. "Honi soit," &c.


At the time of the civil wars of the Fronde, the French ladies seem to have gone in for extremely large hats, and in this particular, as well as in others, they extinguished the male creature very effectively. It was, then that Madame De Chevreuse was working wonders in diplomacy. Madame De Frontenac reviewed the troops. The " Grande Mademoiselle " fired big guns. Mme. Coatquen forced hitherto invincible Turenne to capitulate. What were all the men about? Where were they? How many were there? There were only two; and both wore petticoats—Mazarin and Gandi.


Lady Frontenac, image source, Gutenberg
There is much self-assertion and determination about our fair friend with the large hat, and that ridingwhip she carries looks as if it could give a pretty good slashing cut, if needs were. I trust no such occasion ever arose, and that all treated her with proper respect, and that she never lost her temper and gave it to the groom, say—or her husband, or anything of that kind.


source: Judy, or the London serio-comic journal, Volume 18, 1876


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Anne Turner on her way to the gallows
wiki commons



The ruffs then generally worn fell under the severe censure of Dr. Bulwer, who observed, "It is hard to derive the abominable pedigree of cobweb lawn, yellow starched ruffs, which so much disfigure our females, and render them so ridiculous and fantastical; but it is well known that fashion died at the gallows with her who was the supposed inventrix of it." The person thus alluded to was Mrs. Turner, the widow of a physician who was hanged for assisting in the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury. The yellow starch used for these ruffs was introduced by this infamous woman from France. The circumstance of her wearing one on the scaffold soon terminated the fashion.


source: Fashion then and now, by Lord William Pitt Lennox






Mademoiselle de Maupin, based on the real Julie d'Aubigny. A Photogravure Reproduction by Boussod Valadon and Co from a Water colour painted in 1897 and contained in Six Drawings illustrating Mademoiselle de Maupín published by Leonard Smithers and Co 1898. Wiki Commons