"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.)