Hats and balloon sleeves occupy a good deal of notice in 1895 and 1896. In an ingenious parody of Keats's "La Belle Dame sans Merci," Punch denounces the use of "mixed plumes" in women's hats, and the poet is left
alone and sadly loitering
While the sedge shakes not with the glancing plumes
And no birds sing.
The nuisance of the matinée hat had roused the ire of the male playgoer. Punch compared it to the Eiffel Tower and to a Tower of Babel on top of a garden bed. The obstruction in Parliament was nothing to it; and on reading that large theatre hats had been prohibited in Ohio, he was ready to admit that here, at any rate, we might Americanize our modes to good purpose. Floral decorations had reached such a pitch of extravagance as to warrant the remark of the loafer to a lady wearing a huge beflowered hat: "Want a gardener, Miss?" Signs of sanity, however, were recognized in the announcement that Parisian couturières had issued a fiat against wasp waists, and were going to take the Venus of Milo henceforth as their model, though Punch was rather sceptical of the results of this bold move, which in his view would cause consternation in the ranks of the fashion-plate designers. The Venus of Milo, by the way, has in 1922 been "turned down" by a fashionable Chicago lady as utterly early Victorian.
Passing over the introduction of the "bolero" coat and the brief revival of the early Victorian bonnet in 1897, we come in 1898 to one of the first instances of the Russian invasion—the appearance of the Russian blouse. Punch describes it as the same back and front, with a kind of ruff below the waist which sticks out stiffly all round. It required four times as much stuff as was necessary, but provided room to stow away a fair-sized sewing machine without detection. The "Medici Collar," another novelty, or revival, of the year, is caricatured in a picture which gives the impression of a "bearded lady"; while the enormously lofty trimmings of hats are reported (on the authority of the Daily Telegraph) to have obliged carriage-makers to lower the seats of many closed vehicles. Knickerbockers had already gone out of fashion, even for bicycling, and Punch unchivalrously compares them with the baggy nether-wear of Dutchmen.
Skirts were still worn tight but very long, so long that the shade of Queen Bess is invoked to express her wonder how the modern woman could walk at all, and Punch suggests a new occupation for the London street boys as trainbearers. In 1899 the new colour was "rouge automobile," described as très-chic or teuf-teuf—the Parisian argot for the noisy motor of the hour.
The Hairdresser announced that "this year hair is to be worn green," but the statement appears to have been premature. Punch again fulminates against the persistent Plumage Scandal—this time in a picture of the "Extinction of Species," typified by a ferocious fashion-plate lady with a plumed hat surrounded by plucked egrets. A propos of headgear, it may be added that in the Coronation year of 1902 Punch issued a Proclamation to all women not to wear large hats at the ceremony and so cause annoyance, vexation, desperation and profanity to sightseers. His Schedule comprises Gainsboroughs, Bergères, Tricornes, Plateaux, Lady Blessington, Rustic, Picture and Matinée hats—a tolerably comprehensive list.
From 1903 onwards large bag-shaped muffs came prominently into view, and Punch ungallantly emphasizes their value as a means of hiding large hands. The outstanding feature of this and the next year is the influence of motoring on dress. Here, according to Punch, decoration was entirely sacrificed to comfort: the motorist swathed in furs is compared to the bear, the mountain goat, the chimpanzee and the Skye terrier. In 1904 he notes the universal adoption of the motor-cap, even by those who never owned or rode in a motor-car. For the rest, the "clinging style" of dress, with long skirts and long hanging sleeves, was generally in vogue. Mrs. Roundabout fears that it would make her look "so dreadfully emaciated," but rotundity of figure had ceased to be the rule even with the middle-aged. Fashionable women, apart from their motor costumes, continued to display their wonderful disregard for the rigours of the climate, a trait which is faithfully dealt with in Punch's verses on the "Pneumonia Blouse."
Revival of the Directoire Style