In some parts of Asia Minor a black shade, made of horsehair, covers the eyes, and the head is thickly enveloped in calico coverings, no part of the face being visible. The Mahrama is also frequently seen in all parts of Turkey. This consists of a large piece of colored stuff fastened at the waist and brought over the head; the face is covered with a colored silk handkerchief.
The yashmak (veil) and feridjé (cloak) are universally worn by Turkish women of all classes out of doors. The former varies, according to the rank and place of residence of the wearers, from ordinary calico to the finest tarlatan, while the latter may be of almost any material or color. Green, the color of the Prophet’s garments, is sacred to the Mohammedans, and only a certain branch of the Turkish family is entitled to wear it on their heads. Those of both sexes that enjoy this privilege are called Mollahs. Green feridjés can, however, be indiscriminately used by Mohammedan women, and the preference for this color is so strongly marked in some localities that cloaks of other hues are seldom seen. In the town of Broussa, for instance, many years ago, the dark green feridjé, with a square veil of coarse linen enveloping the head, and tied under the chin over another piece covering the mouth, was the favorite out-of-door costume of all classes. During a visit that Sultan Abdul-Medjid paid to this town, the whole population turned out and lined the sides of the road during his entry. The mass of Turkish women, distinguishable from a certain distance, presented a peculiar spectacle, which drew from the Sultan the following unromantic remark on the veiled beauties who were impatiently waiting to gaze upon the Padishah: “The hanoums of Broussa may be famous for their personal charms and beauty; but thus equipped and grouped their Padishah has seen little in them, and can only compare them to a field of spinach dotted with snowflakes!”
The clothing of the women of the lower class is generally of coarse printed calico, of which they make quilted jackets and undergarments, but as a rule they appear very thinly clad, and their apparel is made of such poor material that it seems almost transparent. The children usually wear long quilted cotton jackets fastened round the waist by a chevré, or worked handkerchief, but strings and buttons seem to be almost unknown. Men’s garments are generally made in the public shops, and both cut out and sewed by men. The shirt and drawers are perfectly loose, and would fit equally well almost anybody. The trousers consist of a long piece of cloth folded, with the ends sewed together, as well as one side, with the exception of two openings left at the corners for introducing the feet; it is in fact a bag, pure and simple, with two holes at the bottom corners, and open at the top. The vests of the men are made of striped cloth and have long tight sleeves; the girdle is a shawl bound tightly round the waist. The jacket has various forms. It is short, with sleeves coming down only to the elbows; or these extend to, or even beyond, the hand, and are close, or slit open from the shoulder down; they may be buttoned, left to hang loosely, or tied in a knot behind the back. In every case Oriental clothing lies in folds about the person, but easy locomotion, or the free use of the limbs, is impossible.
The transformations in dress among Turkish ladies, both with regard to material and fashion, are most disadvantageous. Among the higher orders the European dress has been adopted for in-door wear, resulting in extravagance, bad taste, and incongruity. The description of one or two of the least striking of these toilettes will suffice to give some idea of the manner in which Parisian fashions are generally understood and worn by Turkish ladies. Last year, when paying a visit to the wife of the Governor-General of P⸺, I found that lady with her hair uncombed, wearing a red cotton dressing gown made in the princesse style. Over this was a yellow satin jacket, secured round the waist by a gold belt. Round her neck was a collier of the rarest pink coral of most perfect workmanship. When this lady returned my call, a very large quantity of fine jewellery was displayed on her person, but her dress was so badly made and ill-assorted as to make her pretty little person bear a great resemblance to that of a polichinelle. Madame F. Pasha, who succeeded her shortly afterwards, offered a still more grotesque and ludicrous picture, both in her own person and in those of the suite of slaves and companions that accompanied her. She was very plain and of a certain age; her costume consisted of a skirt of common crimson silk with yellow velvet trimmings, surmounted by a blue jacket braided with violet. Round her neck was a scarlet tie, and on her head an orange-colored bashbagh, or turban, with diamonds and brilliants enough to represent all the bright luminaries of heaven.
Her little daughter, a child of seven, wore a red cotton skirt, with a quilted jacket of violet silk, and a European hat, in which pink and white satin ribbons predominated. Some of her ladies-in-waiting wore tarlatan dresses over dirty tumbled skirts which had been washed at some remote date and all the tucks ironed the wrong way. The wife of another pasha, after taking off her feridjé, as is usual on paying calls, disclosed a wrapper made of common chintz, of a gaudy pattern, such as is commonly used for furniture-covers. The length of this robe, however, was insufficient to conceal an exceedingly dirty though most elaborate cambric petticoat of Parisian make.
The chaussure of Turkish ladies, be it of the last French fashion, or of the oriental make and covered with gems and embroidery, never fits well, nor is properly worn. Their stockings are never darned, and are used till they fall to pieces; as to the manner in which they are secured the less said the better; it is very improbable that this part of a Turkish beauty’s raiment will ever have the chance of instituting a second Order of the Garter. After contemplating this disparaging but true picture of a modern Turkish lady’s dress, the readers will doubtless agree with me in preferring the elegant costume of the old-fashioned class, or the white gedjlik, still a popular négligé costume, with the bare white feet half hidden by a pretty oriental slipper. These, together with the characteristic shalvar, intari, and koushak, and the graceful fotoz that surmounted the abundant locks which fell in multitudinous tresses over the shoulders of the Turkish lady of other days, gave her a cachet of distinction entirely lost in the present day.
After the conquest strict laws were issued as to the form of the head-coverings to be worn by the rayahs, determining their shape and color, and the form of the shoes and kaftans in particular. The kalpak, or hat, was black, and in the shape of an immense pumpkin or miniature balloon. The kaftan also differed in form and color from that worn by Mussulmans; and the shoes were black, or of a dark plum-color. No exterior sign of luxury or wealth was allowed out of doors.
As fashion and custom changed, these regulations fell into disregard, and each race in towns may now dress as it chooses, and adopt its national costume or European garments without exciting either surprise or disapproval. Generally speaking, it is the use of the latter raiment that has acquired ascendency among townspeople, and the national costume is more peculiar to the peasantry, and varies according to nationality in elegance and comfort, but never changes its original form.
The Turkish peasant adheres to his extensive turban, and seldom exchanges it for the more simple fez; the Greek continues to wear his wide vrakiá and blue servéta; and the Bulgarian his potour and gougla (black sheepskin cap). The Armenian is still attired in his long jubbé, or loose coat and blue turban, and the Jew in his floating robes of immemorial form. Some years ago a Turkish peasant from one of the towns of the interior visited the capital. On his return I asked him what he had seen there to strike his fancy. “What did I see?” replied the good old fellow, stroking his beard in dismay. “I was astonished to see the deformity of human nature in that great city; the women now have two heads, one planted on the top of the other, and the hump, which we in our village consider a terrible calamity, seems to be a general affliction, but has descended much below the shoulders! May Allah have mercy upon us; but such preposterous changes as these must to a certainty be the signs of bad times!” The sensible man alluded to the enormous chignons and tournures then in fashion, and perhaps he was not far wrong in his ideas.
Fashions, like coins, will penetrate everywhere and find currency among the most savage, who are glad to purchase finery at any cost. Eighteen years ago, when I first visited the town of N⸺ in Upper Albania, I was honored by visits from the wives of all the dignitaries of the town. The first batch of callers consisted of about twenty ladies, whose arrival was announced to me at six o’clock in the morning, and who could with difficulty be persuaded by my people that the Franks were always in their beds at that time, and received at a much later hour of the day. “Well, if that is the Inglis moda, we too must adopt it!” said the most enlightened lady. By the time they again appeared I was quite ready to receive them, and not a little curious to see what kind of birds these were that had flocked together so early to visit me. In the mean time, as a great admirer and reader of the works of Lord Byron, I had formed all kinds of conjectures with regard to the lovely faces and picturesque costumes I was going to see. The fair maid of Athens, and numberless other beauties, flitted before my imagination when a heavy tramp of feet (not at all fairy-like) up the stairs, preceded by the announcement that the ladies of the Chorbadjis had arrived, brought me back to reality, and I advanced to receive my guests. And now, what was the spectacle that met my gaze and deprived me of all control over my risible propensities? A display of Parisian articles of dress applied in the most indiscriminate manner, without any regard to the use for which they were manufactured and the sex of the persons for whom they were designed! Stiff black satin stocks encircled the fair necks of some of the ladies, assorting queerly with their graceful and rich national costume, and making an ugly separation between their head-dresses and the fine white crape chemisettes that veiled so much of their necks as was left uncovered by elaborately embroidered vests. Below this vest were the graceful floating scarlet trousers, that should have fallen to the ground like a skirt, secured only round the ankle by an embroidered cuff; but all the beauty and grace of this garment were lost in the expansion caused by a monstrous cage crinoline introduced within it, which gave the otherwise sylph-like figures of the wearers the appearance of a shapeless balloon supported on large pairs of gentlemen’s patent-leather boots, proudly displayed!