The Evolution of Fashion

by Florence Mary Gardiner

TEA GOWN, 1897.

The æsthetic movement has also had a marked influence on our taste in all directions, but more especially in the costume of the last few years; and though the picturesque garb of the worshippers of the sunflower and the lily may not be adapted to the wear and tear of this workaday world, it is beautiful in form and design, incapable of undue pressure; and for children and young girls it would be difficult to imagine a more charming, artistic, and becoming costume.

Once more we are eschewing classical lines for grotesque which makes caricatures of lovely women, and drives plain ones to despair. The subdued and delicate tints which a few seasons since were regarded with favour have been superseded by garish shades and bright colours, which seem to quarrel with everything in Nature and Art. Unfortunately, we English are prone to extremes, and possess the imitative rather than the creative faculty. Consequently, our national costume is seldom distinctive, but a combination of some of the worst styles of our Continental neighbours, who would scorn to garb themselves with so little regard for fitness, beauty, and the canons of good taste.

Two dominant notes, however, have been struck in the harmonies of costume during the last twenty-five years—the tailor-made dress, which may almost be regarded as a national livery; and the tea gown, that reposeful garment to which we affectionately turn in our hours of ease. How well each in its way is calculated to serve the purpose for which it is designed, the simple cloth, tweed, or serge costume moulded to the lines of the figure, adapted to our changeful climate, and giving a cachet to the wearer, not always found in much more costly apparel, a rational costume in the best sense of the word, and one which women of all ages may assume with satisfaction to themselves and to those with whom they come in contact. The tea gown, on the other hand, drapes the figure loosely so as to fall in graceful folds, and may be regarded as a distinct economy, as it so often takes the place of a more expensive dress. Beauty, which is one of Heaven's best gifts to women, is useless unless appropriately framed, and a well-known exponent on the art of dressing artistically, has laid down the axiom that harmonies of colour are more successful than contrasts. If we turn to Nature we have an unfailing source of inspiration. The foliage tints, sunset effects, the animal and mineral worlds all offer schemes of colour, which can be readily adapted to our persons and surroundings. And to look our best and, above all, to grow old gracefully, is a duty which every daughter of Eve owes to humanity. The manner in which so many women give way early in life is simply appalling. While still in the bloom of womanhood they assume the habits and dress of decrepitude, submit to be placed on the social shelf without a murmur, and calmly allow those slightly their junior, and in some cases their senior, to appropriate the good things of life, and to monopolise the attention of all and sundry. Mothers in their prime willingly allow anyone who can be persuaded to do so, to chaperone their daughters, and to pilot them through the social eddies and quicksands of their first season, and through sheer indolence fail to exercise the lawful authority and responsibility which maternity entails. The unmarried woman, conscious that she is no longer in her first youth, and indifferent to the charms of maturity, takes to knitting socks in obscure corners, and assumes an air of self-repression and middle-agedness which apparently takes ten years from her span of existence, and conveys to the casual onlooker, that she has passed the boundary line between youth and old age. Why should these women sink before their time into a slough of dowdyism and cut themselves off from the enjoyments civilisation has provided for their benefit?

AN ARTISTIC DRESS, 1897.
After a painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds.

MODERN EVENING DRESS.

Equally to be deprecated are those who cling so desperately to youth that they entirely forget the later stages of life have their compensations. Women who in crowded ballrooms display their redundant or attenuated forms to the gaze of all beholders, whose coiffure owes more to art than nature, and who comfort themselves with the conviction that in a carefully shaded light rouge and pearl powder are hardly distinguishable from the bloom of a youthful and healthy complexion. A variety of circumstances combine to bring into the world a race of people who cannot strictly lay claim to beauty, but who nevertheless have many good points which might be accentuated, while those that are less pleasing could be concealed. A middleaged woman will respect herself and be more respected by others if she drapes her person in velvet, brocade, and other rich fabrics which fall in stately folds, and give her dignity, than if she persists in decking herself in muslin, crepon, net, and similar materials, because in the long since past they suited her particular style. Gossamers belong to the young, with their dimpled arms, shoulders of snowy whiteness, and necks like columns of ivory. Their eyes are brighter than jewels, and their luxuriant locks need no ornament save a rose nestling in its green leaves, a fit emblem of youth and beauty.

With the education and art training at present within the grasp of all classes of the community there is nothing to prevent our modifying prevailing fashions to our own requirements; and common sense ought to teach us (even if we ignore every other sentiment which is supposed to guide reasoning creatures) that one particular style cannot be appropriate to women who are exact opposites to each other. If each person would only think out for herself raiment beautiful in form, rich in texture, and adapted to the daily needs of life, we should be spared a large number of the startling incongruities which offend the eye in various directions.