Had the Bloomer costume, which has obtained so much notoriety, been introduced by a tall and graceful scion of the aristocracy, either of rank or talent, instead of being at first adopted by the middle ranks, it might have met with better success. We have seen that Jenny Lind could introduce a new fashion of wearing the hair, and a new form of hat or bonnet, and Mme. Sontag a cap which bears her name. But it was against all precedent to admit and follow a fashion, let its merits be ever so great, that emanated from the stronghold of democracy. We are content to adopt the greatest absurdities in dress when they are brought from Paris, or recommended by a French name; but American fashions have no chance of success in aristocratic England. It is beginning at the wrong end.
The eccentricities of fashion are so great that they would appear incredible if we had not ocular evidence of their prevalence in the portraits which still exist. At one period we read of horned head-dresses, which were so large and high, that it is said the doors of the palace at Vincennes were obliged to be altered to admit Isabel of Bavaria (queen of Charles VI. of France) and the ladies of her suite. In the reign of Edward IV., the ladies' caps were three quarters of an ell in height, and were covered by pieces of lawn hanging down to the ground, or stretched over a frame till they resembled the wings of a butterfly.[1] At another time the ladies' heads were covered with gold nets, like those worn at the present day. Then, again, the hair, stiffened with powder and pomatum, and surmounted by flowers, feathers, and ribbons, was raised on the top of the head like a tower. Such head-dresses were emphatically called “têtes.” ([See chapter on Head-Dress.]) [Fig. 36]. But to go back no farther than the beginning of the present century, where Mr. Fairholt's interesting work on British Costume terminates, what changes have we to record! The first fashion we remember was that of scanty clothing, when slender figures were so much admired, that many, to whom nature had denied this qualification, left off the under garments necessary for warmth, and fell victims to the colds and consumptions induced by their adoption of this senseless practice. To these succeeded waists so short that the girdles were placed almost under the arms, and as the dresses were worn at that time indecently low in the neck, the body of the dress was almost a myth. [Fig. 39].
About the same time, the sleeves were so short, and the skirts so curtailed in length, that there was reason to fear that the whole of the drapery might also become a myth. A partial reaction then took place, and the skirts were lengthened without increasing the width of the dresses, the consequence of which was felt in the country, if not in the towns. Then woe to those who had to cross a ditch or a stile! One of two things was inevitable; either the unfortunate lady was thrown to the ground,—and in this case it was no easy matter to rise again,—or her dress was split up. The result depended entirely upon the strength of the materials of which the dress was composed. The next variation, the gigot sleeves, namely, were a positive deformity, inasmuch as they gave an unnatural width to the shoulders—a defect which was further increased by the large collars which fell over them, thus violating one of the first principles of beauty in the female form, which demands that this part of the body should be narrow; breadth of shoulder being one of the distinguishing characteristics of the stronger sex. We remember to have seen an engraving from a portrait, by Lawrence, of the late Lady Blessington, in which the breadth of the shoulders appeared to be at least three quarters of a yard. When a person of low stature, wearing sleeves of this description, was covered with one of the long cloaks, which were made wide at the shoulders to admit the sleeves, and to which was appended a deep and very full cape, the effect was ridiculous, and the outline of the whole mass resembled that of a haycock with a head on the top. [Fig. 37]. One absurdity generally leads to another; to balance the wide shoulders, the bonnets and caps were made of enormous dimensions, and were decorated with a profusion of ribbons and flowers. So absurd was the whole combination, that, when we meet with a portrait of this period, we can only look on it in the light of a caricature, and wonder that such should ever have been so universal as to be adopted at last by all who wished to avoid singularity. The transition from the broad shoulders and gigot sleeves to the tight sleeves and graceful black scarf was quite refreshing to a tasteful eye. These were a few of the freaks of fashion during the last half century. Had they been quite harmless, we might have considered them as merely ridiculous; but some of them were positively indecent, and others detrimental to health. We grieve especially for the former charge: it is an anomaly for which, considering the modest habits and education of our countrywomen, we find it difficult to account.
It is singular that the practice of wearing dresses cut low round the bust should be limited to what is called full dress, and to the higher, and, except in this instance, the more refined classes. Is it to display a beautiful neck and shoulders? No; for in this case it would be confined to those who had beautiful necks and shoulders to display. Is it to obtain the admiration of the other sex? That cannot be; for we believe that men look upon this exposure with unmitigated distaste, and that they are inclined to doubt the modesty of those young ladies who make so profuse a display of their charms. But if objectionable in the young, whose youth and beauty might possibly be deemed some extenuation, it is disgusting in those whose bloom is past, whether their forms are developed with a ripe luxuriance which makes the female figures of Rubens appear in comparison slender and refined, or whether the yellow skin, stretched over the wiry sinews of the neck, remind one of the old women whom some of the Italian masters were accustomed to introduce into their pieces, to enhance, by contrast, the beauty of the principal figures. Every period of life has a style of dress peculiarly appropriate to it, and we maintain that the uncovered bosom so conspicuous in the dissolute reign of Charles II., and from which, indeed, the reign of Charles I. was not, as we learn from the Vandyck portraits, exempt, should be limited, even in its widest extension, to feminine youth, or rather childhood.
If the dress be cut low, the bust should be covered after the modest and becoming fashion of the Italian women, whose highly picturesque costume painters are so fond of representing. The white drapery has a peculiarly good effect, placed as it is between the skin and richly-colored bodice. As examples of this style of dress, we may refer to Sir Charles Eastlake's “Pilgrims in Sight of Rome,” “The Grape Gatherer of Capri,” by Lehmann, and “The Dancing Lesson,” by Mr. Uwins, all of which are engraved in the Art Journal. Another hint may be borrowed from the Italian costume; we may just allude to it en passant. If bodices fitting to the shape must be worn, they should be laced across the front in the Italian fashion. [Fig. 38]. By this contrivance the dress will suit the figure more perfectly, and as the lace may be lengthened or shortened at pleasure, any degree of tightness may be given, and the bodice may be accommodated to the figure without compressing it. We find by the picture in the Louvre called sometimes “Titian's Mistress” that this costume is at least as old as Titian.
We have noticed the changes and transitions of fashion; we must mention one point in which it has continued constant from the time of William Rufus until the present day, and which, since it has entailed years of suffering, and in many instances has caused death, demands our most serious attention. We allude to the pernicious practice of tight lacing, which, as appears from contemporary paintings, was as general on the continent as in England.
The savage American Indian changes the shape of the soft and elastic bones of the skull of his infant by compressing it between two boards; the intelligent but prejudiced Chinese suffers the head to grow as nature formed it, but confines the foot of the female to the size of an infant's; while the highly-intellectual and well-informed European lady limits the growth of her waist by the pressure of the stays. When we consider the importance of the organs which suffer by these customs, surely we must acknowledge that the last is the most barbarous practice of the three.
We read in the history of France that the war-like Franks had such a dislike to corpulency that they inflicted a fine upon all who could not encircle their waists with a band of a certain length. How far this extraordinary custom may have been influential in introducing the predilection for small waists among the ladies of that country, as well as our own through the Norman conquerors, we cannot determine.
During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the whole of the upper part of the body, from the waist to the chin, was encased in a cuirass of whalebone, the rigidity of which rendered easy and graceful movement impossible. The portrait of Elizabeth by Zucchero, with its stiff dress and enormous ruff, and which has been so frequently engraved, must be in the memory of all our readers. Stiffness was indeed the characteristic of ladies' dress at this period; the whalebone cuirass, covered with the richest brocaded silks, was united at the waist with the equally stiff vardingale or fardingale, which descended to the feet in the form of a large bell, without a single fold.
There is a portrait in the possession of Mr. Seymour Fitzgerald of the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, when quite young, in a dress of this kind; and one cannot help pitying the poor girl's rigid confinement in her stiff and uncomfortable dress. [Fig. 41] represents Jeanne d'Albret, the mother of Henry IV., in the fardingale.