Dress as a Fine Art, with Suggestions on Children's Dress

by Mary P. Merrifield

Pl. 3.

With Henrietta Maria dresses cut low in the front, ([Fig. 40],) and flowing draperies, as we find them in the Vandyck portraits, came into fashion, but the figure still retained its stiffness around the waist, and has continued to do so through all the gradations and variations in shape and size of the hoop petticoat, and the scanty draperies of a later period, until the present day.[2]

If the proportions of the figure were generally understood, we should not hear of those deplorable, and in many cases fatal, results of tight lacing which have unfortunately been so numerous. So general has the pernicious practice been in this country, that a medical friend, who is professor of anatomy in a provincial academy, informed us that there was great difficulty in procuring a model whose waist had not been compressed by stays. That this is true of other localities besides that alluded to, may be inferred from a passage in Mr. Hay's lecture to the Society of Arts “On the Geometrical Principles of Beauty,” in which he mentions having, for the purpose of verifying his theory, employed “an artist who, having studied the human figure at the life academies on the continent, in London, and in Edinburgh, was well acquainted with the subject,” to make a careful drawing of the best living model which could be procured for the purpose. Mr. Hay observes, with reference to this otherwise fine figure, that “the waist has evidently been compressed by the use of stays.” In further confirmation of the prevalence of this bad habit, we may refer to Etty's pictures, in which this defect is but too apparent.

We fear, from Mr. Planché's extracts, that the evil was perpetuated by the poets and romance writers of the Norman period; and we are sure that the novelists of our own times have much to answer for on this score. Had they not been forever praising “taper waists,” tight lacing would have shared the fate of other fashions, and have been banished from all civilized society. Similar blame does not attach to the painter and sculptor. The creations of their invention are modelled upon the true principles of proportion and beauty, and in their works a small waist and foot are always accompanied by a slender form. In the mind of the poet and novelist the same associations may take place: when a writer describes the slender waist or small foot, he probably sees mentally the whole slender figure. The small waist is a proportionate part of the figure of his creation. But there is this difference between the painter and sculptor, and the novelist. The works of the first two address themselves to the eye, and every part of the form is present to the spectator; consequently, as regards form, nothing is left to the imagination. With respect to the poet and novelist, their creations are almost entirely mental ones; their descriptions touch upon a few striking points only, and are seldom so full as to fill up the entire form: much is, therefore, necessarily left to the imagination of the reader. Now, the fashion in which the reader will supply the details left undetermined by the poet and novelist, and fill up their scanty and shadowy outlines, depends entirely upon his knowledge of form; consequently, if this be small, the images which arise in the mind of the reader from the perusal of works of genius are confused and imperfect, and the proportions of one class of forms are assigned to, or mingled with, those of others, without the slightest regard to truth and nature. When we say, therefore, that writers leave much to the imagination, it may too frequently be understood, to the ignorance of the reader; for the imaginations of those acquainted with form and proportion, who generally constitute the minority, always create well-proportioned ideal forms; while the ideal productions of the uneducated, whether expressed by the pencil, the chisel, or the pen, are always ill proportioned and defective.

The most efficient method of putting an end to the practice of tight lacing will be, not merely to point out its unhealthiness, and even dangerous consequences, because these, though imminent, are uncertain,—every lady who resorts to the practice hoping that she, individually, may escape the penalty,—but to prove that the practice, so far from adding to the beauty of the figure, actually deteriorates it. This is an effect, not doubtful, like the former case, but an actual and positive fact; and, therefore, it supplies a good and sufficient reason, and one which the most obtuse intellect can comprehend, for avoiding the practice. Young ladies will sometimes, it is said, run the risk of ill health for the sake of the interest that in some cases attaches to “delicate health;” but is there any one who would like to be told that, by tight lacing, she makes her figure not only deformed, but positively ugly? This, however, is the plain unvarnished truth; and, by asserting it, we are striking at the root of the evil. The remedy is easy: give to every young lady a general knowledge of form, and of the principles of beauty as applied to the human frame, and when these are better understood, and acted on, tight lacing will die a natural death.

The study of form, on scientific principles, has hitherto been limited entirely to men; and if some women have attained this knowledge, it has been by their own unassisted efforts; that is to say, without the advantages which men derive from lectures and academical studies. In this, as in other acquirements, the pursuit of knowledge, as regards women, is always attended with difficulties. While fully concurring in the propriety of having separate schools for male and female students, we do think that a knowledge of form may be communicated to all persons, and that a young woman will not make the worse wife, or mother, for understanding the economy of the human frame, and for having acquired the power of appreciating its beauties. We fear that there are still some persons whose minds are so contracted as to think that, not only studies of this nature, but even the contemplation of undraped statuary, are derogatory to the delicacy and purity of the female mind; but we are satisfied that the thinking part of the community will approve the course we recommend. Dr. Southwood Smith, who is so honorably distinguished by his endeavors to promote the sanatory condition of the people, strenuously advocates the necessity of giving to all women a knowledge of the structure and functions of the body, with a view to the proper discharge of their duties as mothers. He remarks (Preface to “Philosophy of Health”) on this subject, “I look upon that notion of delicacy which would exclude women from knowledge calculated in an extraordinary degree to open, exalt, and purify their minds, and to fit them for the performance of their duties, as alike degrading to those to whom it affects to show respect, and debasing to the mind that entertains it.”

At the present time, the knowledge of what constitutes true beauty of form is, perhaps, best acquired by the contemplation of good pictures and sculpture. This may not be in the power of every body; casts, however, may be frequently obtained from the best statues; and many of the finest works of painting are rendered familiar to us by engravings. The Art Journal has done much in diffusing a taste for art, by the engravings it contains from statues, and from the fine works of English art in the “Vernon Gallery.” Engravings, however, can of course represent a statue in one point of view only; but casts are now so cheap as to be within the reach of all persons. Small models of the “Greek Slave” are not unfrequently offered by the Italian image venders for one shilling; and although these are not sharp enough to draw from, the form is sufficiently correct to study the general proportions of the figure; and as this figure is more upright than statues usually are, it may be found exceedingly useful for the above purpose. One of these casts, or, if possible, a sharper and better cast of a female figure, should be found on the toilette of every young lady who is desirous of obtaining a knowledge of the proportions and beauties of the figure.

We believe it will always be found that the beauty of a figure depends not only upon the symmetry of the parts individually, but upon the harmony and proportion of each part to the rest. The varieties of the human form have been classed under the general heads of the broad, the proportionate, and the slender.

The first betokens strength; and what beauty soever, of a peculiar kind, it may display in the figure of the Hercules, it is not adapted to set off the charms of the female sex. If, however, each individual part bears a proportionate relation to the whole, the figure will not be without its attraction. It is only when the proportions of two or three of the classes are united in one individual, that the figure becomes ungraceful and remarkable. The athletic—if the term may be applied to females—form of the country girl would appear ridiculous with the small waist, and the white and taper fingers, and small feet of the individuals who come under the denomination of slender forms. The tall and delicate figure would lose its beauty if united to the large and broad hands which pertain to the stronger type. A small waist and foot are as great a blemish to an individual of the broad variety as a large waist and foot are to the slender. “There is a harmony,” says Dr. Wampen, “between all the parts in each kind of form, but each integral is only suited to its own kind of form. True beauty consists not only in the harmony of the elements, but in their being suitable to the kind of form.” Were this fundamental truth but thoroughly understood, small waists and small feet would be at a discount. When they are recognized as small, they have ceased to be beautiful, because they are disproportionate. Where every part of a figure is perfectly proportioned to the rest, no single parts appear either large or small.