We are told that many of the first Parisian artists derive a considerable part of their income from drawing the figures in the French books of fashion and costume, and that, in the early part of his career, Horace Vernet, the president of the French Academy, did not disdain to employ his talents in this way. We cannot, however, refrain from expressing our surprise and honest indignation that artists of eminence, especially those who, like the French school, have a reputation for correct drawing, and who must, therefore, be so well acquainted with the actual as well as ideal proportions of the female figure, should so prostitute their talents as to employ them in delineating the ill-proportioned figures which appear in books of fashions. It is no small aggravation of their offence, in our eyes, that the figures should be drawn in such graceful positions, and with the exception of the defective proportions, with so much skill. These beauties only make them more dangerous; the goodness of their execution misleads the unfortunate victims of their fascination. What young lady, unacquainted with the proportions of the figure, could look on these prints of costumes and go away without the belief that a small waist and foot were essential elements of beauty? So she goes home from her dressmaker's, looks in the glass, and not finding her own waist and foot as small as those in the books of fashion, gives her stay-lace an extra tightening pull, and, regardless of corns, squeezes her feet into tight shoes, which makes the instep appear swollen. Both the figures in our last plates were originally drawn and engraved by Jules David, and Reville, in “Le Moniteur de la Mode,” which is published at Paris, London, New York, and St. Petersburg. Let our readers look at these figures, and say whether the most determined votary of tight lacing ever succeeded in compressing her waist into the proportions represented in these figures.
We should like to hear that lectures were given occasionally, by a lady in the female school of design, on the subjects of form, and of dress in its adaptation to form and to harmony of color. We have no doubt that a lady competent to deliver these lectures will readily be found. After a course of these lectures, we do not hesitate to predict that illustrations of fashion emanating from this source would be, in point of taste, every thing that could be desired. We venture to think that the students of the female school may be as well and as profitably employed in designing costumes, as in inventing patterns for cups and saucers or borders for veils. Until some course, of the nature we have indicated, is adopted, we cannot hope for any permanent improvement in our costume.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
SOME THOUGHTS ON CHILDREN'S DRESS.
BY MRS. MERRIFIELD.
Can any good and sufficient reason be given, said a friend, as we were contemplating the happy faces and lively gestures of a party of boys and girls, who, one cold, frosty evening, were playing at the old game called “I sent a letter to my love,” why, when one of the party picks up the ball which another has thrown down, the boys always stoop, while the girls (with the exception of one little rosy girl, who is active and supple as the boys) invariably drop on one knee? At first we almost fancied this must be a new way of playing the game; but when one of the seniors threw a handful of bonbons among the children, and in their eager scramble to pick up the tempting sweets we observed the same respective actions, namely, that the boys stooped, while the girls knelt on one knee, we began to meditate on the cause of this diversity of action. A little more observation convinced us that the girls, though equally lively, were less free in their movement than the boys. We observed, also, that every now and then some of the girls stopped and hitched their clothes, (which appeared almost in danger of falling off,) with an awkward movement, first upon one shoulder, and then on the other, while others jerked one shoulder upwards, which caused the sleeve on that side to sink nearly to the elbow. “Now,” we exclaimed, “we can solve the problem: the different actions are caused by the difference in the dress; let us see where the difference lies.” So we continued our observations, and soon found that the boys were all dressed in high dresses up to the throat, while the bands which encircled their waists were so loose as merely to keep the dress in its place without confining it; in short, that their dress did not offer the slightest restraint on their freedom of movement. It was otherwise with the girls, excepting the little rosy girl before mentioned: they were dressed in low dresses, and their shoulders were so bare that we involuntarily thought of a caterpillar casting its skin, and began to fear, from the uneasy movement of their shoulders, that the same thing might happen to the children, when we observed that this was rendered impossible by the tightness of the clothes about the waist. The mystery was now cleared up; the tightness of the dress at the waist, while it prevented the children from “slipping shell,” as it were, entirely destroyed their freedom of movement. We could not help contrasting these poor girls—dressed in the very pink of fashion, with their bare shoulders, compressed waists, and delicate appearance—with the rosy face, quick and active movement, and thick waist of the little girl before alluded to; and we sighed as we thought that, induced by the culpable folly or ignorance of parents,
“Pale decay
Would steal before the steps of time,
And snatch ‘their’ bloom away.”
“Whence does it arise,” continued my friend, “that the boys are clad in warm dresses, suited to the season, their chests and arms protected from the wintry air, and their feet incased in woollen stockings, while the girls are suffered to shiver at Christmas in muslin dresses, with bare necks and arms, and silk or thin cotton stockings? Are they less susceptible of cold than boys? Is their circulation less languid, that their clothes are so much thinner? Are their figures better, their health stronger, for the compression of their tender bodies by stays?” At this point our cogitations were stopped by a summons to supper; and after supper, hats and shawls were produced, and we took our leave. Our young companions, fatigued with their exertions, soon fell asleep in the corners of the carriage, and we were left to our own meditations. Our thoughts once more reverted to the subject of children's dress, and gradually assumed the following form:—
The subject of dress, which is so important both to our health and comfort, is usually treated as a matter of fashion, and is regulated partly by individual fancy, partly by the dictates of the modiste. Fashion, as it applies to the costume of men, is, with the exception of the hat, controlled by convenience and common sense; but with regard to the dress of women and children, neither of these considerations has any weight. The most extravagant and bizarre arrangements of form and colors will meet with admirers and imitators, provided they emanate from a fashionable source. The dress of children, especially, appears to be exceedingly fantastic in its character, and, with regard to that of girls, is ill adapted to secure the enjoyment of health and the perfect development of the figure. We venture to offer a few remarks on this highly interesting theme.
In discussing the subject of children's dress, several points present themselves for our consideration, namely, first, the adaptation of the costume to the climate, the movements, and healthful development of the figure; and secondly, the general elegance of the habiliments, the harmony of the colors, and their special adaptation to the age and individual characteristics of children. The first are essential conditions; the latter, though too frequently treated as the most important, may, in comparison with the first, be deemed non-essentials. We shall remark on these subjects in the before-mentioned order.