Susan reporting:
If the American media is to be believed, just about every television in the country will be tuned to a certain football (football-football, not soccer) championship game on Sunday night. Yet even amidst all the hoopla, we keep our NHG antennae tuned for nifty historical facts to share.
Take this example, drawn from the seventeenth century. Europe in the 1600s was exceptionally cold, a time when the Thames often froze over so completely that month-long Frost Fairs could be held on its surface. Even kings and noblemen shivered in their vast but drafty palaces.
Fashion answered with the gentleman's muff, slug low over the hips with the same debonair nonchalance as a sword. When made from costly imported furs like beaver or sable, a gentleman's muff was also one more showy example of conspicuous consumption in an era that loved display. For this group of late 17th c. courtiers, above left, their muffs are rivaled only by their wigs.
While muffs for men fell from style (though not for ladies: see here and here), they seem to have come back in a big way on the modern football field. It doesn't matter whether a guy is making a statement in the corridors of Whitehall or Versailles, or on the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field: he still has to keep his hands warm for peak performance.
As the weather has grown colder, both of this Sunday's star quarterbacks – Tom Brady of the Boston Patriots, right, and Eli Manning of the New York Giants, left – have been wearing certain open-ended, insulated accessories tied around their hips. True, today they're made from high-tech thermal sports fabrics, not fur, and they're self-consciously called hand-warmers – but don't you agree that they sure look like muffs?
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Courtier's Muff = Quarterback's Handwarmer?
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Posted by
Susan Holloway Scott
at
12:01 AM
Labels: fashion, sports, Susan Holloway Scott
Comments: 0 comments so far | add a comment
Labels: fashion, sports, Susan Holloway Scott
Comments: 0 comments so far | add a comment
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
What's at the makeup counter in the 1820s
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Loretta reports:
Thanks to Frances Grimble’s splendid compilation, The Lady’s Stratagem, (which I’ve referred to/raved about here, here, here, and here), I’ve discovered several terrific resources dealing with historical dress and manners in the early 19th century. One was The Duties of a Lady’s Maid (1825).
Among other things, the book offers a clue to how matters stood regarding makeup. The contents make it clear that it was acceptable for women—and not just actresses and harlots—to wear make-up.
Though the author recommends making beauty aids at home—and offers many dire warnings regarding toxic ingredients—ladies could and did buy them from their favorite perfumer.
One could buy rouge in dishes, of which there were two kinds, Portugal-made (superior & costlier) and London-made. One could also buy small cakes of rouge-tinged Spanish wool (I’m picturing felt, but welcome explanations from our experts)—the London-made being superior to the Spanish-made.
There were also color papers. One variety was rouge-tinged paper, “chiefly for the convenience of carrying it in a pocket-book.” Another, from China, came in fragile 3” diameter “large, round, loose cakes.” The wool that holds the rouge is described as being “like carded wool,” and apparently, the color flaked off easily.
China also provided color boxes, which “contain each two dozen of papers; and in each paper are three smaller ones, viz., a small black paper for the eyebrows; a paper of the same size, of a fine green colour; but which, when just arrived and fresh, makes a very fine red for the face; and lastly, a paper containing about half an ounce of white powder (prepared from real pearl), for giving an alabaster colour to some parts of the face and neck.”
Mouse fur eyebrows not included.
Illustrations courtesy Wikimedia
Top: Katsushika Hokusai, A bowl of lip rouge, a mirror in a case, and a packet of face powder.
Bottom: Mignot Parfumeur, illustration from Journal Universel 16 décembre 1854—by Monsieur Gilbert Randon.
Thanks to Frances Grimble’s splendid compilation, The Lady’s Stratagem, (which I’ve referred to/raved about here, here, here, and here), I’ve discovered several terrific resources dealing with historical dress and manners in the early 19th century. One was The Duties of a Lady’s Maid (1825).
Among other things, the book offers a clue to how matters stood regarding makeup. The contents make it clear that it was acceptable for women—and not just actresses and harlots—to wear make-up.
Though the author recommends making beauty aids at home—and offers many dire warnings regarding toxic ingredients—ladies could and did buy them from their favorite perfumer.
One could buy rouge in dishes, of which there were two kinds, Portugal-made (superior & costlier) and London-made. One could also buy small cakes of rouge-tinged Spanish wool (I’m picturing felt, but welcome explanations from our experts)—the London-made being superior to the Spanish-made.
There were also color papers. One variety was rouge-tinged paper, “chiefly for the convenience of carrying it in a pocket-book.” Another, from China, came in fragile 3” diameter “large, round, loose cakes.” The wool that holds the rouge is described as being “like carded wool,” and apparently, the color flaked off easily.
China also provided color boxes, which “contain each two dozen of papers; and in each paper are three smaller ones, viz., a small black paper for the eyebrows; a paper of the same size, of a fine green colour; but which, when just arrived and fresh, makes a very fine red for the face; and lastly, a paper containing about half an ounce of white powder (prepared from real pearl), for giving an alabaster colour to some parts of the face and neck.”
Mouse fur eyebrows not included.
Illustrations courtesy Wikimedia
Top: Katsushika Hokusai, A bowl of lip rouge, a mirror in a case, and a packet of face powder.
Bottom: Mignot Parfumeur, illustration from Journal Universel 16 décembre 1854—by Monsieur Gilbert Randon.
Posted by
LorettaChase
at
12:05 AM
Labels: beauty aids, fashion, historic dress, Loretta Chase, servants
Comments: 4 comments so far | add a comment
Labels: beauty aids, fashion, historic dress, Loretta Chase, servants
Comments: 4 comments so far | add a comment
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Mavisbank, a Tragically Neglected 18th c Country House
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Susan reporting:
For many of us American history-nerds, the great British country houses seem to exist in an almost supernatural state of romantic perfection. They're the idealized places we imagine in Jane Austen's novels and see as backgrounds in films (among them: Brideshead Revisited, The Duchess, Pride and Prejudice, The Go-Between.) As an art history major in college, I sat in darkened classrooms and gazed in awe at slides of Palladio-inspired majesty, nestled in flawless green landscapes.
But reality is often not so kind. Taxes, war, changing societies, and shifting family fortunes all take their toll. Even houses made of stone become vulnerable over time (see Highclere Castle, playing the namesake of Downton Abbey.) Nowhere is this more tragically evident than at Mavisbank, a once-grand country house south of Edinburgh in Midlothian, Scotland.
Built in 1723-1727, Mavisbank, above, was one of those rare collaborations between the foremost architect of the day in William Adam and an artistic, appreciative client in Sir John Clerk. The magnificent house, grounds, and gardens (the painted view, right, features the canal that pointed towards the house) they created was the first Palladian-inspired villa built in the north, and instantly became known as one of Scotland's most important and beautiful country houses.
Yet by 1815, the house had already passed from the Clerk family, and in 1876 the once-elegant house became a lunatic asylum. For the next 70 years, insensitive renovations and additions further eroded the building's beauty. The famous gardens and surrounding fields went untended. Although the house was no longer used as a hospital, its last private owner was perhaps the most abusive of all, letting Mavisbank become a tattered haven for squatters and trailers, its front court used as an automobile junkyard, left.
A devastating fire in 1973 gutted the interiors and destroyed the roof. Threatened with demolition, emergency stabilization offered a temporary respite while preservationists fought to save what remained of the house. In 2008, Mavisbank was included on the World Monument Fund's list of the 100 most endangered historical sites in the world, increasing interest in preserving the site.
Mavisbank's salvation finally seems assured. Last month, the sale of the house was finally arranged by the Midlothian Council, which planned to transfer the house to its own preservation trust. What exactly will happen next, however, still remains undecided. Should the shell be further stabilized, but left in its romantic, derelict state, or should the goal be a complete restoration, a recreation of what Mavisbank once was? This video slideshow of Mavisbank as it stands at present shows how monumental (and costly) either task will be. What do you think Marisbank's future should be?
Top: Mavisbank House, Midlothia, Scotland, drawing by William Adam, from Vitruvius Scoticus (1812)
Below: Mavisbank House, Midlothian, Scottland. Photograph from National Monuments Record Scotland courtesy of RCAHMS.
For many of us American history-nerds, the great British country houses seem to exist in an almost supernatural state of romantic perfection. They're the idealized places we imagine in Jane Austen's novels and see as backgrounds in films (among them: Brideshead Revisited, The Duchess, Pride and Prejudice, The Go-Between.) As an art history major in college, I sat in darkened classrooms and gazed in awe at slides of Palladio-inspired majesty, nestled in flawless green landscapes.
But reality is often not so kind. Taxes, war, changing societies, and shifting family fortunes all take their toll. Even houses made of stone become vulnerable over time (see Highclere Castle, playing the namesake of Downton Abbey.) Nowhere is this more tragically evident than at Mavisbank, a once-grand country house south of Edinburgh in Midlothian, Scotland.
Built in 1723-1727, Mavisbank, above, was one of those rare collaborations between the foremost architect of the day in William Adam and an artistic, appreciative client in Sir John Clerk. The magnificent house, grounds, and gardens (the painted view, right, features the canal that pointed towards the house) they created was the first Palladian-inspired villa built in the north, and instantly became known as one of Scotland's most important and beautiful country houses.
Yet by 1815, the house had already passed from the Clerk family, and in 1876 the once-elegant house became a lunatic asylum. For the next 70 years, insensitive renovations and additions further eroded the building's beauty. The famous gardens and surrounding fields went untended. Although the house was no longer used as a hospital, its last private owner was perhaps the most abusive of all, letting Mavisbank become a tattered haven for squatters and trailers, its front court used as an automobile junkyard, left.
A devastating fire in 1973 gutted the interiors and destroyed the roof. Threatened with demolition, emergency stabilization offered a temporary respite while preservationists fought to save what remained of the house. In 2008, Mavisbank was included on the World Monument Fund's list of the 100 most endangered historical sites in the world, increasing interest in preserving the site.
Mavisbank's salvation finally seems assured. Last month, the sale of the house was finally arranged by the Midlothian Council, which planned to transfer the house to its own preservation trust. What exactly will happen next, however, still remains undecided. Should the shell be further stabilized, but left in its romantic, derelict state, or should the goal be a complete restoration, a recreation of what Mavisbank once was? This video slideshow of Mavisbank as it stands at present shows how monumental (and costly) either task will be. What do you think Marisbank's future should be?
Top: Mavisbank House, Midlothia, Scotland, drawing by William Adam, from Vitruvius Scoticus (1812)
Below: Mavisbank House, Midlothian, Scottland. Photograph from National Monuments Record Scotland courtesy of RCAHMS.
Posted by
Susan Holloway Scott
at
12:01 AM
Labels: amazing places, architecture, Downton Abbey, history, Susan Holloway Scott
Comments: 12 comments so far | add a comment
Labels: amazing places, architecture, Downton Abbey, history, Susan Holloway Scott
Comments: 12 comments so far | add a comment
Monday, January 30, 2012
What Frenchmen were wearing in 1827
Monday, January 30, 2012
Loretta reports:
As anyone fascinated by fashion history can tell you, finding men’s fashions in the first third of the 19th century isn’t easy. Men’s magazines existed in abundance, but I haven’t yet come upon any that included fashion plates—not in England, at any rate. The ones I’ve found online are from Costumes Parisiens, whose plates were often copied into women’s magazines.
Even though men’s styles didn’t change as often or as obviously as women’s did—especially after Beau Brummell established a look that splendidly displayed a man’s assets—they were by no means static; and Englishmen, like Englishwomen, were interested in what their fellows in Paris were wearing.
~~~
My cousin sent me two drawings of the present Parisian fashions which I have forwarded to you. The most fashionable visiting dress consists of a suit of black, the waistcoat of velvet, and velvet collar to the coat. An underwaistcoat of satin with black spots on it. Cassimere trowsers, and black silk stockings. The leading fashionables wear a gold chain for their eye-glass instead of a ribbon. The walking-dress most common is a light blue frock coat and drab cassimere trowsers; and in wet, or very cold weather, camblet* cloaks are more commonly worn than great-coats.
—Gentleman’s Pocket Magazine, 1827
~~~
Alas, the magazine didn’t include the drawings. But here is one 1827 fashion plate from a German magazine.
And here and here are some examples of men’s fashions from the Regency & Romantic eras.
*Camblet—18th and 19th century English and French, plain woven or twilled fabric, made with single or double warp of wool mixed with silk or goat's hair. It was woven in the gray and dyed in the piece; used for cloaks. Originally came from the Orient, where it was made of Angora hair.
—Louis Harmuth, Dictionary of textiles, 1915
1826 Costume Parisien fashion plate courtesy Wikipedia.
As anyone fascinated by fashion history can tell you, finding men’s fashions in the first third of the 19th century isn’t easy. Men’s magazines existed in abundance, but I haven’t yet come upon any that included fashion plates—not in England, at any rate. The ones I’ve found online are from Costumes Parisiens, whose plates were often copied into women’s magazines.
Even though men’s styles didn’t change as often or as obviously as women’s did—especially after Beau Brummell established a look that splendidly displayed a man’s assets—they were by no means static; and Englishmen, like Englishwomen, were interested in what their fellows in Paris were wearing.
~~~
My cousin sent me two drawings of the present Parisian fashions which I have forwarded to you. The most fashionable visiting dress consists of a suit of black, the waistcoat of velvet, and velvet collar to the coat. An underwaistcoat of satin with black spots on it. Cassimere trowsers, and black silk stockings. The leading fashionables wear a gold chain for their eye-glass instead of a ribbon. The walking-dress most common is a light blue frock coat and drab cassimere trowsers; and in wet, or very cold weather, camblet* cloaks are more commonly worn than great-coats.
—Gentleman’s Pocket Magazine, 1827
~~~
Alas, the magazine didn’t include the drawings. But here is one 1827 fashion plate from a German magazine.
And here and here are some examples of men’s fashions from the Regency & Romantic eras.
*Camblet—18th and 19th century English and French, plain woven or twilled fabric, made with single or double warp of wool mixed with silk or goat's hair. It was woven in the gray and dyed in the piece; used for cloaks. Originally came from the Orient, where it was made of Angora hair.
—Louis Harmuth, Dictionary of textiles, 1915
1826 Costume Parisien fashion plate courtesy Wikipedia.
Posted by
LorettaChase
at
12:05 AM
Labels: fashion, historic dress, history, Loretta Chase
Comments: 4 comments so far | add a comment
Labels: fashion, historic dress, history, Loretta Chase
Comments: 4 comments so far | add a comment
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Breakfast Links: Week of January 23, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Served up fresh: our weekly offering of Breakfast Links! Our favorite links to other blogs, web sites, pictures, and articles, collected for you from around the Twitterverse.
• Rethinking those white Regency dresses: "Blinded by the White, Dresses and colour 1796-1815" http://bit.ly/AC3Oo6
• One of the greatest letters ever written, from poet Robert Burns to a critic: http://bit.ly/yF7ATe
• Great story of 18th c MA Gov Bowdoin's dinner party, his icy steps, & his (likely) inebriated guests: http://bit.ly/wF9XAd
• Amazing collection of 17th-19th c sleds/sleighs. http://bit.ly/wkJez9
• In honor of the new year: Here be Dragons http://wp.me/pPlVQ-ld
• Portrait painter Sir Joshua Reynolds, born in 1723, died this week in 1792. http://bit.ly/wpIEQD; to remember his talent, this handsome portrait: http://bit.ly/AyU3ud
• Real-life 'Gangs of NY': Leaders of the street gang "The Daybreak Boys" were hanged 28 Jan 1853 http://ow.ly/8BJlI
• 1500s Fashion for Gentlewomen included Fur (though not sure that all of these are dead) http://bit.ly/zNmBi2
• Maids of Honor from Queen Elizabeth's coronation remember too-tight gowns & fears of fainting: http://bit.ly/wX3vOP
• "Vegetable lambs of Tartary" - or exotic Chinese ferns? http://bit.ly/wCvl3V
• History myth debunked: "Everyone died young." Or not. http://bit.ly/xVhfwi
• At the Harp and Hoboy: John Walsh, Music Publisher' http://post.ly/4zOIx
• Rose-Adélaïde Ducreux, 18th c French painter, composer, and musician http://bit.ly/A3QE7M
• Gloves! http://fb.me/16aUlsjFD
• An old French tradition we should bring back: A gift basket from the groom with sparklies & dresses & things! http://bit.ly/Artd0K
• Robert Adam's renovation of the Drury Lane Theatre 1775 - 'plate-glass on green and crimson ground' - http://bit.ly/fV4dKN
• A Family Fashion Artifact: The passing down of a Victorian dress hook. http://ow.ly/8FFyi
• Henry VIII died this week in 1547: What Caused His Succession Problems: Syphilis or Bad Luck? http://bit.ly/xbYPUw
• Shakespearean Light Bulb Jokes - http://bit.ly/widygR
• The majestic lion, magical unicorn, the lustful but sensitive centaur: animals of medieval art: http://met.org/wMOmu6
• Madder, Badder and More Dangerous http://wp.me/p13rlt-1n5 Another Byron dueled with swords this week in 1765.
• Julienne Soup, "now highly in vogue" in 1759 - history & recipes: http://bit.ly/z4CigW
• Pink hair is all the rage - just like it was in 1914: http://slate.me/y77PLC
Posted by
Susan Holloway Scott
at
4:54 PM
Labels: breakfast links, Loretta Chase, Susan Holloway Scott
Comments: 4 comments so far | add a comment
Labels: breakfast links, Loretta Chase, Susan Holloway Scott
Comments: 4 comments so far | add a comment
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