We conclude with the following admirable extract from Tobin's “Honeymoon,” which we earnestly recommend to the attention of our fair readers.
I'll have no glittering gewgaws stuck about you
To stretch the gaping eyes of idiot wonder,
And make men stare upon a piece of earth,
As on the star-wrought firmament—no feathers,
To wave as streamers to your vanity;
Nor cumbrous silk, that with its rustling sound
Makes proud the flesh that bears it. She's adorned
Amply, that in her husband's eye looks lovely—
The truest mirror that an honest wife
Can see her beauty in!
Julia. I shall observe, sir.
Duke. I should like well to see you in the dress I last presented you.
Julia. The blue one, sir?
Duke. No, love,—the white. Thus modestly attired,
A half-blown rose stuck in thy braided hair,
With no more diamonds than those eyes are made of,
No deeper rubies than compose thy lips,
Nor pearls more precious than inhabit them,
With the pure red and white, which that same hand
Which blends the rainbow, mingles in thy cheeks;
This well-proportioned form (think not I flatter)
In graceful motion to harmonious sounds,
And thy free tresses dancing in the wind,
Thou'lt fix as much observance, as chaste dames
Can meet without a blush.
We look forward hopefully to a day when art-education will be extended to all ranks; when a knowledge of the beautiful will be added to that of the useful; when good taste, based upon real knowledge and common sense, will dictate our fashions in dress as in other things. We have schools of art to reform our taste in pottery, hardware, and textile fabrics, not to speak of the higher walks of art, painting, sculpture, and architecture. The handle of a jug, the stem of a wine glass, the design for dress silks or lace veils, will form the subjects of lectures to the students of the various schools of design; disquisitions are written on the important question whether the ornamental designs should represent the real form of objects, or only give a conventional representation of them; while the study of the human figure, the masterpiece of creation, is totally neglected, except by painters and sculptors. We hope that the study of form will be more extended, that it will be universal, that it will, in fact, enter into the general scheme of education, and that we shall hereafter see as much pains bestowed in improving by appropriate costume the figure which nature has given us, as we do now in distorting it by tight stays, narrow and high-heeled shoes, and all the other deformities and eccentricities of that many-faced monster, fashion. The economy of the frame, and the means of preserving it in health and beauty, should form an integral part of education. There can be no true beauty without health; and how can we hope to secure health if we are ignorant of the means of promoting it, or if we violate its precepts by adopting absurd and pernicious fashions? Surely it is not too much to hope that dressmakers will hereafter attend the schools of design, to study the human form, and thence learn to appreciate its beauties, and to clothe it with appropriate dress, calculated to display its beauties to the greatest advantage, and to conceal its defects—the latter with the reservation we have already noticed. We hope, also, that the shoemaker will learn to model the shoe upon the true form of the foot.
Manufacturers are now convinced of the importance and utility of schools of design; and whether the article hereafter to be produced be a cup and saucer, a fender, a pattern for a dress, or for furniture, for a service of plate or a diamond tiara, it is thought proper that the pupil, as a preliminary course that cannot be dispensed with, should commence with the study of the human figure. Yet is not dress an art-manufacture as well as a cup and saucer, or a teaboard? Is there less skill and talent, less taste required to clothe the form which we are told is made after God's own image, than to furnish an apartment? Why should not dressmakers and tailors attend the schools of design, as well as those artisans who are intended to be employed in what are called art-manufactures? Why should not shoemakers be taught the shape and movements of the foot? If this were the case, we are satisfied that an immediate and permanent improvement would be the consequence in our style of dress. Would any person acquainted with the human form, and especially with the little round form of an infant, have sent to the Great Exhibition an infant's robe shaped like that in our cut. [Fig. 89]. An infant with a waist “growing fine by degrees and beautifully less”!—was there ever such a deformity? We believe that many portrait painters stipulate that they should be allowed to dictate the dress, at least as regards the arrangement of the colors, of their sitters; the reason of this is, that the painter's selection of dress and color is based upon the study of the figure and complexion of the individual, or the knowledge of the effects of contrast and harmony of lines, tissues, and colors, while the models which are presented for his imitation too frequently offer to his view a style of dress, both as regards form and color, which set the rules of harmony at defiance. Now, only suppose that the dressmaker had the painter's knowledge of form and harmony of lines and colors, what a revolution would take place in dress? We should no longer see the tall and the short, the slender and the stout, the brown and the fair, the old and the young, dressed alike, but the dress would be adapted to the individual; and we believe that, were the plan of study we recommend generally adopted, this purpose might always be effected without the sacrifice of what is now the grand desideratum in dress—novelty.
The reasons why the art of dressmaking has not hitherto received the attention which it deserves, are to be sought for in the constitution of society. The branches of manufacture which require a knowledge of design, such as calico printing, silk and ribbon weaving, porcelain and pottery, and hardware manufactures, are conducted on a large scale by men of wealth and talent, who, if they would compete successfully with rival manufacturers, find it necessary to study and apply to their own business all the improvements in science, with which their intercourse with society gives them an opportunity of becoming acquainted. It is quite otherwise with dressmaking. A woman is at the head of every establishment of this kind, a woman generally of limited education and attainments, from whom cannot be expected either liberality of sentiment or enlarged views, but who possibly possesses some tact and discrimination of character, which enables her to exercise a kind of dictatorial power in matters of dress over her customers; these customers are scarcely better informed on the subject than herself.
The early life of the dressmaker is spent in a daily routine of labor with the needle, and when she becomes a mistress in her turn, she exacts from her assistants the same amount of daily labor that was formerly expected from herself. Work, work, work with the needle from almost childhood, in the same close room from morning to night, and not unfrequently from night to morning also, is the everlasting routine of the monotonous life of the dressmakers. They are working for bread, and have no leisure to attend to the improvement of the mind, and the want of this mental cultivation is apparent in the articles they produce by their labor. When one of the young women who attends these establishments to learn the trade, thinks she has had sufficient experience, she leaves the large establishment, and sets up in business on her own account. In this new situation she works equally hard, and has, therefore, no time for improving her mind or taste. Of the want of this, however, she is not sensible, because she can purchase for a trifle all the newest patterns, and the thought never enters her poor little head, that the same fashion may not suit all her customers. This defective education of the dressmakers, or rather their want of knowledge of the human form, is one of the great causes of the prevalence of the old fashion of tight lacing; it is so much easier to make a closely-fitting body suit over a tight stay than it is on the pliant and yielding natural form, in which, if one part be drawn a little too tight, or the contrary, the body of the dress is thrown out of shape. Supposing, on the other hand, the fit to be exact, it is so difficult to keep such a tight-fitting body in its place on the figure without securing its form by whalebones, that it is in vain to expect the stays to become obsolete until the tight-fitting bodice is also given up.
This will never take place until not only the ladies who are to be clothed, but the dressmakers, shall make the human form their study, and direct their efforts to set off their natural advantages by attending to the points which are their characteristic beauties. A long and delicate throat, falling shoulders, not too wide from point to point, a flat back, round chest, wide hips—these are the points which should be developed by the dress. Whence it follows, that every article of dress which shortens the throat, adds height or width to the shoulders, roundness to the back, or flatness to the chest, must be radically wrong in principle, and unpleasant and repulsive in effect. In the same manner, whatever kind of dress adds to the height of a figure already too tall and thin, or detracts from the apparent height of the short and stout, must be avoided. These things should form the study of the dressmaker.
As society is now constituted, however, the dressmaker has not, as we have already observed, leisure to devote to studies of the necessity and importance of which she is still ignorant. The reform must be begun by the ladies themselves. They must acquire a knowledge of form, and of the principles of beauty and harmony, and so exercise a controlling influence over the dressmakers. By this means, a better taste will be created, and the dressmakers will at length discover their deficiency in certain guiding principles, and will be driven at last to resort to similar studies. But in this case a startling difficulty presents itself—the poor dressmaker is at present over-worked: how can she find leisure to attend the schools of design, or even pursue, if she had the ability, the necessary studies at home? A girl is apprenticed to the trade at the age of thirteen or fourteen; she works at it all her life, rising early, and late taking rest; and what is the remuneration of her daily toil of twelve hours? Eighteen pence, or at most two shillings a day, with her board![3] As she reckons the value of the latter at a shilling, it follows, that the earnings of a dressmaker, in the best period of her life, who goes out to work, could not exceed fifteen shillings, or, at the most, eighteen shillings a week, if she did not—at the hazard of her health, which, indeed, is frequently sacrificed—work at home before she begins, and after she has finished, her day's work abroad. The carpenter or house painter does not work harder, or bring to bear on his employment greater knowledge, than the poor dressmaker; yet he has four shillings sixpence a day, without his board, while she has only what is equivalent to two shillings sixpence, or three shillings. What reason can be assigned why a woman's work, if equally well done, should not be as well paid as that of a man? A satisfactory reason has yet to be given; the fact, however, is indisputable, that women are not in general so well paid for their labor as men.
Although these remarks arose naturally out of our subject, we must not digress too far. To return to the dressmaker. If the hours of labor of these white slaves who toil in the dressmaking establishments were limited to ten or twelve hours, as in large factories, two consequences would follow: the first is, that more hands would be employed, and the second, that the young women would have time to attend schools, and improve their minds. If they could also attend occasional lectures on the figure, and on the harmony of color and costume with reference to dress, the best effects would follow.
Those dressmakers who are rich enough, and, we may add, many ladies also, take in some book of fashions with colored illustrations, and from this they imbibe their notions of beauty of form and elegance of costume. How is it possible, we would ask, for either the dressmaker or the ladies who employ them to acquire just ideas of form, or of suitable costume, when their eyes are accustomed only to behold such deformed and unnatural representations of the human figure as those in the accompanying plates? [Figs. 90 and 91.] Is it any wonder that small waists should be admired, when the books which aspire to be the handmaids and mirrors of fashion present to their readers such libels on beauty of form? Now, suppose that lithographed drawings of costumes issued occasionally from the schools of design, is it not reasonable to suppose that, with the knowledge which the students have acquired of the human figure, the illustrations would be more accurate imitations of nature? An eye accustomed to the study of nature can scarcely bear to contemplate, much less to imitate, the monsters of a depraved taste which disgrace the different publications that aspire to make known the newest fashions. Many of the illustrations of these publications, although ill proportioned, are executed in a certain stylish manner which takes with the uneducated, and the mechanical execution of the figures is also good. This, however, is so far from being an advantage, that it only renders them the more dangerous; like the song of the siren, they lead only to evil.