Science of Dress/Chapter XV
CHAPTER XV.
CONCLUSION.
In the preceding pages it has been my endeavour not so much to lay down hard-and-fast rules for observance in the matter of dress, as to explain the reason why certain principles are beneficial while others are harmful. By teaching the physiology of the subject it has been my desire to lead women to think for themselves, and until they do so no permanently good results can be obtained.
It is a favourite saying on the part of men, that "women do not know how to reason," and in a certain sense this is true; not, however, because women are devoid of the faculty of reasoning, but simply because they are too lazy to use those faculties with which Nature has endowed them.
Of course it is easier to ask advice and to follow it blindly than to think out a course of action for oneself; but it is not only degrading, but dangerous to do so; and although advice may with advantage be frequently sought from those wiser and more experienced than ourselves, it should always be carefully weighed and considered before it is accepted.
It is time that women should think for themselves, not in opposition to their male relations, but in order to be able to be true helpmeets to them, and not mere dolls to be looked at, admired, and petted, but not consulted in difficulty or trouble.
I cannot now discuss this question at any length, but it is of great importance in regard to the present subject, for the dictates of reason are never more neglected than in matters concerning dress.
In the choice of dress women are content for themselves and their children either to imitate others, or to follow the suggestions of their tradespeople. This is a hindrance to all progress towards a rational system of clothing, as will be seen presently.
The spirit of imitation which we find so largely developed among those at the top of the scale of the lower animals, as for instance among the apes, is characteristic of a certain phase of human mind; we find it at the highest in childhood, while it diminishes with the growth of intellect, and in accordance with this fact we find it very highly developed among idiots and comparatively uncivilized nations.[1] In manners, customs, and dress, however, the so-called civilized nations of Europe are in the matter of "apishness" no further advanced than the most uncultured savage. Imitation is the great principle which governs Fashion, and Reason in these matters plays but a very minor part. No fashion has ever been so inconvenient, uncomfortable, and injurious as to prevent its being adopted if initiated by high authority. Reason may influence the leader of fashion, but imitation does the rest. For example, the ruff was first worn by Queen Elizabeth to hide an ugly wen on her neck. The Court, from policy or politeness, adopted the new invention, and the commonalty, after the manner of nations, aped the costume of its social superiors.
The custom may originate in the express or tacit command of the ruler, or from mere imitation, but the result is the same. Henry VIII. introduced the fashion of wearing patches, by using round disks of plaster to conceal the repulsive appearance of his skin, and when a French queen's hair showed signs of turning grey all the ladies in France felt obliged to grease and powder their tresses. This custom soon spread widely in Europe, and with very unpleasant results, for, as hair-dressing was thus rendered a long and troublesome process, it was found inconvenient to go through the ceremony more than once in a week or ten days, and insect-powder soon became a necessary adjunct to the toilet. Coming to more recent times we may inquire into the origin of the "masher collar" of the present day, but we have to go some way back to seek it.
The neck of "the finest gentleman in Europe" was extensively seamed with scars of old abscesses, and, like "the maiden queen," he sought to conceal this deformity, and used a neck-cloth swathed about his royal throat. By wearing a similar covering Beau Brummel earned the gratitude and confidence of his sovereign, for the Beau knew how to give a certain style to any garment, however hideous, and the gentlemen of England, succumbing to his charms, adopted the fashion en masse.
In the army upright collars were introduced, the height of which may be gauged by the fact that they were decorated with four rows of gold lace an inch and a quarter deep. They were as stiff as many thicknesses of buckram could make them; but even more than this, for the collars worn by soldiers included a stock of hard sole-leather, five inches in height. Imagine the discomfort of wearing one's neck constantly screwed up in such a vice! No wonder that fainting, heat-stroke, and apoplexy should have been common in the army under these conditions. George IV. died in 1830; but his military collar and stock survived him for a quarter of a century.
During the early years of Queen Victoria elderly gentlemen wore high starched cambric neck-cloths. But later on a more rational neck-dress came into use among the younger members of society in the Byronic collar, which, as the name indicates, was one of the forms in which imitation of the fashionable poet was exhibited.
The "masher" collar, which may be looked upon as, to a certain extent, a revival of the fashion popularized by Beau Brummel, has been brought into wear, like many other revivals of the styles of past generations, by means of a power of which it is necessary to take account, and which I will call "TRADE INFLUENCE."
In the making of fashions there are several forces at work. Of these the most important is that to which I have previously referred—Imitation. There is also what I may call Conservation—that is, a certain respect for precedent, and a desire to retain what has become habitual, a force which acts as a check upon the others, and which being, for example, most developed in England, restrains English people from adopting any new style or custom for many months after it has become general in France, and even in America. And lastly, there is Trade Influence, which invariably makes itself felt, and depends for its success on the first principle—imitation.
It is to the advantage of that large section of the people who make their livelihood by supplying the rest of the world with clothes, that fashions should change quickly, so that new clothes may be bought before the old have been worn out, because the latter have become outré. On the part of some people there is a constant demand for novelty; they do not like to wear things, imitations of which have been obtained by "Jack, Tom, and Harry," or "Mary, Jane, and Eliza." Consequently the tradesman's brain is busy to devise the novelties which are in demand. Failing this demand he will devise a novelty all the same, and, carefully introducing it to a select few, he knows that by imitation a large demand for it will soon be created. Now, to devise a real novelty is something which requires positive genius, and as this commodity is rare, the majority of the new fashions which are constantly appearing are, in reality, only modifications of bygone styles. Thus it is with the well-known "masher" collar, hat, and stick, with the dancing-pump and Queen Anne shoe, with the crinolette and padded shoulders and hips. A prediction has been made to me by the head of a fashionable firm that crinolines will be all the rage during the season of 1886, and, although it is devoutly to be wished that this will not be the case, it is highly probable that the prediction will be fulfilled, for the style of 1885 has led up to it, and trade influence can accomplish the rest. As the American said, "It is never safe to prophesy unless you know," and the prophet in this case had made up his mind to make a large sale of the article in question. The Quaker's advice to his son, "Make money, my boy! Honestly, if you can; but make money!" requires no repetition to men of this stamp, for they have long followed it implicitly. It is wonderful how people will submit to be humbugged in the sacred name of Fashion.
Until the end of the eighteenth century men and women were equally and foolishly extravagant in dress. Thus we find an imaginary correspondent of Addison's writing: "The skirts of your fashionable coats form as large a circumference as our petticoats; as these are set out with whalebone, so are those with wire to increase and sustain the bunch of folds that hangs down on each side." The hoop and crinoline served to keep the weight of dresses off the waist of the wearer and to prevent its clinging round her legs in walking. If they are reintroduced, this argument will be advanced in their favour; for, as Mrs. Oliphant has remarked, "Until we can find some means of lightening the draperies of the female toilette or distributing their weight better, it is always possible that it (the crinoline) may appear again." I have in Chapter X. described a means of lightening and distributing the weight of women's clothes, and that it is quite time that, in the interests of health and reason, some such means should be adopted is proved by the following quotation, which shows to what ridiculous extremes fashion is at the present day tending:—
"The crinoline discussion (says the Daily Telegraph) crops up so often that one is tempted to say let's have the hoop and farthingale back again and have done with it! The question now is, are women going to content themselves with the dress improver as it has been worn for some time past, or is the feminine figure to be "improved" at the sides as well? Small waists are in high favour—never more so. Bodices are worn open, or frilled in front that breadth may be given to the shoulders; and, for the same reason, slight women sometimes have a roll of horsehair placed beneath their skirt on either hip. This same roll has elicited an indignant protest from some who are sternly opposed to the encroachments of crinoline, and who fear a return to the obnoxious substrata of former times. It is very possible, however, that it may mean nothing or very little, and the Charlotte Corday dress requires a certain amount of support at the sides, real or artificial. Strangely soon do we accustom ourselves to new forms. In a few weeks all the peculiarity of this special gown seems to have worn off. When Sargent first showed his portrait of Madame Barckhard at the Salon, the black dress full on the hips, and without upper draperies, had the effect of a fancy costume. Seeing it again at the Rue de Sèze, it struck me quite differently. So attired, a lady might this season pass unnoted anywhere. This is the ebb and flow of fashion. It is now high tide with these relatively simple gowns, gathered or pleated, open in front or at the side, and made in soft falling woollens, in rustling taffetas, in rich watered silk, or flowered brocade; but the ebb will come very soon."[2] Instead of asking whether women will content themselves with the present fashion, however, the writer should inquire whether the shopkeepers will do so, which is more to the point. Weighty draperies and rich and heavy materials are brought into fashion by the influence of tradespeople for the sake of increasing their profits. If these wearisome and unhealthy modes of dress are adopted the crinoline will follow more as a palliative than as an evil; but it is the duty of those who have sense and knowledge to protest against such absurd and unhealthy extravagance. Just as the principle of atavism applies to the human race, so that in reversion to an ancestral and inferior type a tailed boy is occasionally born, or an idiot possessing the characteristics of an ape, a sheep, or a goose, as in Pinel's cases, so it applies among other things to fashion in dress. For example, when we see, as quite recently, a revival of the maiden queen's high, stifif ruff, or of the first gentleman in Europe's stock, we see that which, although it once had a reason and a use, is now as objectless as the tail used by certain monkeys to swing from bough to bough would be to human beings who do not favour such a means of locomotion.
We of the present day who, as the latest outcome of social evolution, look back upon earlier stages with a sort of contempt should, nevertheless, endeavour to learn from the past whatever lessons it can teach, and they are many.
We should use our reason to discriminate between what was evil and what was good in the customs of bygone ages, and never forget that the cause which blinded the men and women of those times to evils which are patent to us, is still as active as ever, and prevents us, in our turn, from perceiving evils which will be patent to our successors when we shall be looked back to as ignorant old fogies. That cause is the vanity which, seemingly inherent in the human mind, makes each successive generation maintain that, "whatever I do, whatever I think, and whatever I say, must be right and proper." Hence the present always looks back upon the past with contempt, and forward to the future with doubt as to whether it will not be degenerate. Yet in many respects we are "not better than our fathers," and this fact is illustrated when we look through old collections of prints or models showing the dresses of bygone times. Look at the simple, but elegant costume of the reign of Edward I., an ancient picture of which represents a figure clad in a plain under-dress and sleeves of brown, over which is a sleeveless polonaise of grey looped up on one side. True, the fashion is 600 years old, but I see no modern dress to excel or even equal it in its artistic beauty of simplicity or healthfulness of construction. There is a dress of the reign of Richard II., with a pretty tight-fitting jacket and long sleeves over a quite plain skirt, suited to any lady of the present day. Then, again, there is a charming housewife's dress from the reign of Henry VI. How deliciously neat it is with its grey and white materials; and how convenient that arrangement by which the outer sleeves button on just below the shoulder, so that they can be taken off when the wearer is at work; and what an amount of artistic skill is involved in the soft folds of the muslin round the neck, which, after being confined by the laced bodice, flow out from beneath it into an apron. That elegant dress worn by a young lady of the time of Henry VIII. is cut as a princess robe, with a longish skirt fulled into the bodice at the back, and trimmed with black velvet and folds of muslin over the neck and bosom. Models of all these were shown at the Health Exhibition.
Then the men's dress. I am sure all gentlemen visitors to the Health or Inventions Exhibitions must have envied the costumes worn by the employés in Old London, whose clothes were so becoming, so comfortable, so infinitely more desirable in every way than the angularly-cut and sad-coloured garments of the present day, with their accompanying tortures of "masher collars," stiff cuffs, and silk hats.
Why is it then, it may well be asked, that bad old fashions are generally revived in preference to good ones? The answer is to be found in the fact that revivals are the work of trade influence, and that as it is to the interest of those concerned in trade that fashions should be as extravagant as possible, there is no probability that they would attempt to revive styles which are simple and owe their healthfulness to following the lines of nature.
Obstacles are placed in the way of every alteration, it is true; but again to quote the words of one of the greatest practical physiologists that has ever lived, "surely no question of mere (pecuniary) gain to any or to every class ought to be allowed to stand for ever in the way, when the lives and happiness of multitudes of our fellow-creatures and the tranquillity and real prosperity of the country are at stake. Unless we begin somewhere, how can any improvement ever be accomplished ?"[3]
It must be obvious, from what I have already said, that the interests of the public and of the tradesmen engaged in supplying them with clothes by no means coincide, and therefore it behoves every individual to do the best he or she can for himself or herself in this matter.[4]
I had long suspected this, but I was startlingly convinced of the truth of it when, while writing this book, I made it my business to visit most of the important suppliers of dress in London. Almost everywhere I was covertly met with the same principle, "The public will buy whatever we choose them to, so why should we put ourselves to trouble and expense in order that they may have good and healthy things?"
The moral of this is obvious; the public must no longer take things on trust, but must itself learn to discriminate between good and bad, and by rejecting the latter, force those who are, after all, dependent upon it, to supply what is really good. When tradespeople see that the public will no longer be imposed upon, a higher system of trade morality will of necessity be evolved.
Although each individual should modify his or her customs, both in other things and in dress, to suit the peculiarities of each individual case, there are certain broad principles which apply to all alike, and these cannot be more clearly stated than in the words of an old writer, who in the Gentleman's Magazine in the year 1738 laid down the following canons of beauty:—
"1. Everything which alters or disguises nature proceeds from a false taste.
"2. Everything which forces nature beyond its due bounds proceeds from a bad taste.
"3. Everything which eclipses the beauties or exposes the defects of nature proceeds from want of taste.
"4. Everything that constrains nature or hinders the freedom of action proceeds from a depraved taste.
"5. Everything which loads nature with superfluous ornaments proceeds from an affectation of taste.
"6. And everything which is out of character is certainly out of taste; and though the fashion can never influence taste, yet taste should always influence the fashion."
If in regard to these canons we consider the observations quoted on pp. 263, 264 anent the fashions of the present day, the conclusion is obvious.
Rules 1 and 4 have a particular bearing on health, and the results of breaking them are at once apparent after reading what has been said in this volume on the subject of tight-lacing (Chapter X.), and of the ill-usage which our feet receive (Chapter XIV.); but to take another example, let us see what results from the method of dressing the hair, in which "nature is altered" by the hair being forced in an upward direction, instead of being allowed to follow its natural tendency downwards.
To the present fashion of dressing the hair on the top of the head the Lancet[5] attributes the prevalence and increasing frequency of neuralgic headache among women, and its remarks on this subject are worth noting and laying before the fair sex, into whose hands that paper rarely comes. It says, "The pain experienced is generally located in one or more of the branches of the second cervical nerve, very commonly those terminating in the scalp at the occiput. As a matter of fact the nerves of the scalp are irritated by the hair being drawn tightly back and put on the strain, not as a whole, in which case the strain would be spread over a large area of the surface, but by small bundles of hair which are pulled back and held in place by hair-pins. Relief is often consciously experienced as a result of removing the hair-pins, but this has only a temporary and partial effect. The injury done is lasting, if not permanent in its consequences."
In short, it is needless to multiply instances in support of the proposition which I have previously advanced to the effect that—Health and beauty go hand in hand, and indeed from the point of view of language they are intimately related, for our word health, connected with the other English words hale and whole (whole ought to be spelt hole) are derived from the same source as the Greek word kalos, which meant beauty.
Yet health is neglected and slighted every day, while there are few who would not sell their very souls to be beautiful while ignoring the best means to the desired end.
An old writer quaintly observed: "Who is he that values health at the rate it is worth? Not he that hath it; he reckons it among the common ordinary enjoyments, and takes as little notice of it, or less regards it than his long-worn clothes—perhaps more careful of his garments, remembering their price; but thinks his health costs him nothing, and coming to him at so easy a rate, values it accordingly, and hath little regard to keep it; is never truly sensible of what he enjoyed until he finds the want of it by sickness; then health above all things is earnestly desired and wished for."
"You that have health," he continues, "and know not how to prize it, I'll tell you what it is that you may love it better, and put a higher value upon it, and endeavour to preserve it with a more serious, stricter observance and tuition.
"Health is that which makes your meat and drink both savoury and pleasant, else nature's injunction of eating and drinking were a hard task and slavish custom.
"Health is that which makes your bed easy and your sleep refreshing; that revives your strength with the rising sun and makes you cheerful at the light of another day; 'tis that which fills up the hollow and uneven places of your carcase, and makes your body plump and comely; 'tis that which dressed you up in Nature's richest attire, and adorns your face with her choicest colours.
"'Tis that which makes exercise a sport, and walking abroad the enjoyment of your liberty.
"'Tis that which makes fertile and increaseth the natural endowments of your mind, and preserves them long from decay, makes your wit acute, and your memory retentive.
"'Tis that which supports the fragility of a corruptible body, and preserves the verdure, vigour, and beauty of youth.
"'Tis that which makes the soul take delight in her mansion, sporting herself at the casements of your eyes.
"'Tis that which makes pleasure to be pleasure, and delights, delightful, without which you can solace yourself in nothing of terrene felicities or enjoyments.
"Now take a view of yourself when health has turned its back upon you, and deserts your company; see then how the scene is changed, how you are robbed of and spoiled of all your comforts and enjoyments.
"Sleep that was stretched out from evening to the fair, bright day, is now broken into pieces and subdivided, not worth the accounting; the night that before seemed short is now too long, and the downy bed presseth hard against the bones.
"Exercise is now toyling, and walking abroad the carrying of a burthen.
"The eye' that flasht as lightning is now like the opacous body of a thick cloud;—that rolled from east to west swifter than a celestial orb, is now tired and weary with standing still;—that penetrated the centre of another microcosm, hath lost its planetary influence, and is become obtuse and dull," &c.[6]
Are not these considerations enough to urge any one to the "study and observance of Nature's institutions," and to avoid "injurious customs, ways, and manners of living?"
Health is not only the source of beauty, but without it happiness is impossible, so that vanity and self-love alike urge us to preserve it; but there is a still loftier motive which should join with these to induce us to take care of ourselves, and that is that, if we allow our own constitutions to be undermined by neglect or carelessness, we make it impossible for us to be able to care for others, and instead of being a help to those we love, we become a burthen to them.
As a parting word of advice let me close this volume with the words of the philosopher Sir Thomas Browne: "Where nature fills the sails the vessel goes smoothely on; and where judgement is the pilot the rate of insurance need not be high."
- ↑ For a fuller explanation of the subject, see my articles on Thought and Language, published in Knowledge during 1885. Articles xvi.and xvii.
- ↑ Daily Telegraph, June 9th, 1885.
- ↑ Combe's "Principles of Physiology," ed. 1835, p. 22.
- ↑ In reference to my remarks on pp. 190-1, I may here add that in self-defence every lady ought to know how to make a dress, and I can thoroughly recommend the Anglo-Parisian School of Dressmaking, Academy House, 295, Oxford Street, W., to those who wish to learn the art.
- ↑ July 18th, 1885, p. 124.
- ↑ Maynwaringe on "The Method and Means of Health." 1683.
THE END.