The clothing of men and women happens to illustrate rather appropriately the very same tendency of civilised institutions to develop by gradual, rather than violent, changes which has just been referred to. For, while a good deal is heard about the “vagaries” of fashion, technical writers on the subject always seem to be able to predict some time in advance the movements of modish costume; and they sometimes even condescend to explain the processes of thought and observation by which their apparently inspired predictions are arrived at. Moreover, admitting, and allowing for, the extremest variations in detail, costume in civilised countries can hardly be said to have materially and intrinsically altered—cannot, that is to say, be said to have altered its fundamental characteristics—during a century, in the case of men, nor during a great many centuries in the case of women. Since the age of knee-breeches succeeded the age of doublet and hose, men have always protected their legs with “bifurcated integuments”—some sort of double tube secured to a copious bag enclosing the middle of the body—and the upper part of the trunk with a coat and waistcoat; while women have always worn bodices and petticoats of one shape or another. Neither has the loudest outcry against the irrationality of costume as a whole, nor even the ridicule showered upon single elements of it, ever had the least effect in producing revolutionary modification. Punch laughed in vain at crinolines; Lord Ronald Gower protests in vain against the silk “chimney-pot” hat. Will a more scientific and a more logical age replace absurd or otherwise objectionable garments by others more reasonably designed, to such an extent as to produce an entire change in the sartorial aspect of civilised peoples?
It is impossible to doubt that in some respects it will. Already sensible women decline to injure themselves and risk the injury of their possible offspring at the command of fashion. Tight-lacing and the wearing of such corsets as unnaturally compress the internal organs of the body are evidently near the end of their long reign. In a comparatively short time it is hardly possible to doubt that at least these, the most evidently injurious articles of clothing still surviving, will have joined the farthingale and the ruff in the lumber-room of the obsolete, and when what is really the more reasonable moiety of mankind is thus within easy reach of sacrificing to hygiene what was dedicated to a wholly mistaken conception of æsthetics, can we question that reforms in male dress founded upon convenience and reason will follow, even to the abandonment of the silk hat? If one were asked to suggest the various steps by which the ultimate costume of the century, whether male or female, will be arrived at, few would not boggle at the task. But the general nature of the more-or-less-perfected dress of a hundred years hence may perhaps be not unsuccessfully imagined, having in mind the considerations likely to determine it.
We may be quite certain that two characteristics will be demanded of all costume—that it shall give to all movements of the body the greatest possible freedom consistent with warmth, and that it shall be as easy as possible to put on and take off. The highly intellectual life of the next century will certainly be impatient of anything which detains it with occupations so uninteresting as the putting on and taking off of clothes from pursuits more attractive. Hence there will doubtless be a great deal of simplification of details, the greatest practical diminution in the number of single objects worn. The essentials of a satisfactory outfit will be, first, an inner garment next the skin, worn merely for cleanliness; next a middle garment for warmth, and finally an outer suit for protection. The innermost garment will no doubt be made of some fabric not much unlike the soft silky papers now made in Japan, so that it can be destroyed as soon as it is taken off. It is not in the least likely that so insanitary and degrading an occupation as that of the washerwoman can survive in a civilisation really advanced. The middle garment, completely cleansable by vacuum action and oxygenation, will of course have to be made of some vegetable fibre like cotton or flax. It will most likely be some developed form of “combination,” easy to put on and take off, fastening by means of a single knot or button, and will be just tight enough to give freedom to the movements. Its warmth will be dependent upon contained air, and it, like everything else we wear, will be highly porous; for the importance of properly ventilating the skin, perfectly well understood even now, will by that time be also acted upon. Thus far male costume and female costume will be practically identical. There is no reason to expect, however, that this identity will be carried so far as the externals of dress, because realising (as we shall of course realise) the tendency of the sexes to become less divergent in their natural and moral characteristics, we shall instinctively seek to maintain all the salutary and romantic contrast that we can. But it is not to be believed that woman, already long since emancipated from the corset, will have continued a slave to the skirt, the petticoat and other restraining garments. With underclothes practically identical with the sensible garments of men, our female descendants will no doubt wear a costume much like what Miss Rehan wore as Rosalind—a tunic and knee-skirt (probably in one) with gaiters made of some elastic material.
Deprived as we shall be of animal products, the leather boot will naturally be unavailable, and a totally different kind of foot covering will be used. But it is not the absence of leather which will determine this change. Perfectly satisfactory boots of the present form are worn by some extreme vegetarians already, carrying consistency to its limit. With the disappearance of the horse from the streets, however—a disappearance which will doubtless be at least seventy years old by this time next century (for the motor car is fast pushing out the horse already)—the chief need for an entirely impervious foot-covering will have been obviated. Towns will be sanitary underfoot—they are disgusting now—and free from mud; while the drying appliances mentioned in an earlier chapter will clear away rain as fast as it falls. Consequently it will no longer be necessary to wear uncomfortable, unhealthy and deforming boots; the human foot will cease to be the source of discomfort it now more or less acutely is to nine people out of every ten, and we shall be much better walkers and athletes. For health will be the consideration dominating all our actions, health being a subject of careful tuition in every school: and as men and women will rarely need to use muscular strength in their work, they will gratify the natural yearning of healthy animals for exertion, in athletic sports, by no means confined to the male sex.
Whether fashion as an institution will continue to exist is doubtful, but probably it will not exhibit the extravagances, nor the capricious development which now characterise it, and “a general uniformity with infinitesimal differences,” which has been defined as one of Nature’s uniformities, will be perceptible in the natural development of the race.
Of course one object sought consciously or unconsciously to be attained by the use of fashions is class distinction; and similarly jewellery is probably worn much more because it is a sign of wealth than because of any intrinsic beauty which it is supposed to possess. At one time a man’s occupation (and consequently his rank in society) could be ascertained by his dress; and sumptuary laws occasionally made such distinctions obligatory. It is no doubt of some law of his own time that Shakespeare was thinking[1] when he made the tribune in Julius Cæsar reprove the workmen for appearing on a business-day without the leather aprons which marked their trade:—
“What, know you not
Being mechanical you ought not walk,
Upon a labouring day, without the sign
Of your profession?”