La Belle Assemblée Fashions for January 1830

Loretta reports:

From La Belle Assemblée
Fashions For January 1830

WALKING DRESS.
A PELISSE of fawn-coloured gros de Naples,* delicately embroidered in black outline down each side of the front where it closes, as far as to a very broad border of black velvet, which surrounds the skirt next the feet, nearly as high as to the knee; at the head of which is a trimming of light sable, or some other valuable light-coloured fur. The sleeves are à la Donna Maria,** and they are trimmed up the outside of the arm, where the sleeve tightens at the cuff, with fur. Round the waist, which is made plain, is a black velvet zone, clasped with a gold brooch. The collar of the pelisse turns back, and is surmounted by a French, double ruff of lace. The bonnet is of black velvet, trimmed with a bow of the same, and three aigrettes of blue corn-flowers and ears of corn; the aigrette in front larger than those on each side. A Chantilly lace veil is worn with this bonnet, which ties under the chin on the right side, with a bow of black satin ribbon. A boa tippet of marten skin is added to this appropriate winter pelisse. The half-boots are of fawn-coloured kid, tipped at the toe with black.

EVENING DRESS.
  A DRESS of pink satin ; the border trimmed en jabots, with the same material, each one bordered by a broad, rich, white blond: these ornaments ascend from the hem next the feet, as high as to the knee. The corsage is made quite plain, with a very broad falling tucker of blond. Over short sleeves of pink satin fall long ones of blond, entirely à L’imbecile, without any confinement. A dress hat of pink satin forms the coiffeure: this is turned up in front, and lightly ornamented with small white ostrich feathers. A superb veil of white blond falls carelessly over each side, and at the back of the hat.
The jewellery ornaments worn with this dress are either pink topazes, or Ceylon rubies, set à l’antique, in fillagree gold. The shoes are pink satin, tied en sandales.

*"a corded Italian silk similar to Irish poplin."
**one of several types of very full sleeves.  In this one "the fullness of the forearm is confined by a loop on the inner side from the bend of the elbow to the wrist."  From English Women's Clothing of the Nineteenth Century, C. Willett Cunnington

Keeping Warm Whilst Walking: Cloak & Hat, Muff & Mitts

Susan reporting:

We promised we'd show what an 18th c. lady (or at least our favorite mantua-maker's apprentice, Sarah Woodyard, from Colonial Williamsburg) would wear to go walking outside, and here she is. 

Once again, it's all about the layers. She has a kerchief tucked into the neckline of her gown, a shorter wool capelet, and a wool-lined, hooded silk cloak over that. Long mitts cover her forearms, and her hands would be tucked inside a snug little matching muff. The muff is stuffed with wool and lined. Think

 of putting your hands inside a cozy pillow. 

Remember, too, that beneath her gown, she could be wearing a quilted petticoat and one of the quilted waistcoats we showed earlier this week. Colder weather would require a longer, heavier wool cloak, perhaps even lined or trimmed with fur.

If it's a blustery day, she'll put up the hood of her cloak, as in the first picture, above left.  But if she's making a more stylish promenade, she'd add a hat covered in the same silk to match her muff and cloak. The ribbon that holds this in place is tied not beneath her chin (as ladies would do in the 19th c.), but on the back of her head, and over her cap, with an extra hat-pin or two if necessary to keep the hat at the most cunning, over-the-eyes angle. 

A young apprentice or assistant in any of the fashion trades would have served as something of a walking advertisement for her mistress when she was sent out on errands, dressed in clothes from the shop. Of course, she might attract attention that had nothing to do with future customers for her mistress, as this print, right, shows. The sly title – An English Man-of-War, taking a French Privateer - says it all, though the sailor and the milliner's apprentice appear to be much more interested in making love, not war.

The NHG library: Elephant's Breath & London Smoke

Loretta reports:

From a recent addition to my Nerdy History library--

Mummy, 1835 – Mummy, or Egyptian brown, is also a bituminous substance combined with animal remains, brought from the catacombs of Egypt, where liquid bitumen was employed three thousand years ago in embalming; … Its other properties and uses as a pigment are the same as those of asphaltum, for which it is employed as a valuable substitute, Chromatography, 1835

Mummy, 1849 – It is therefore that we… have never felt the least desire to essay this pigment, seeing nothing to be gained by smearing our canvas with a part perhaps of the wife of Potiphar, … the student can obtain genuine Egyptian mummy at our color shops, Handbook of Young Artists and Amateurs in Oilpainting, 1849

Pick a color, any color.  Elephant’s Breath & London Smoke:  Historic Colour Names, Definitions, and Uses, edited by Deb Salisbury, will tell you all about it. 

The main part of the book is the fascinating dictionary of colors, with entries like those above, from various time periods. 

The last forty pages contain several sections, on the following topics (I've given some samples of the contents):

Period Comments on Colours, e.g., “Ridiculous Colours from 1827”
Historical Colour Notes, e.g., “Benjamin Franklin the Elder on Dyeing: c. 1700”
Colour Symbolism, e.g., “Colour in Heraldry”
Harmony in Colour, e.g., “Harmony Of Colours, in Lining Carriages, with the Complexion and Dress: 1860”
What Colours to Wear, e.g., “Advice for a Red-Headed Girl: 1888”
Colours by Artificial Light, e.g., “Observations on Candle and Oil Lamp Light: 1807”
Mourning Colours, e.g., “The Mourning Robes of Queen Elizabeth”

And all of this followed, as you’d expect, by an extensive bibliography.

This is the sort of book a NHG reads not only when researching a story, but just for fun.  Delicious.

Getting Warmer: What the Ladies Wore

Susan reports:

Last month, we wrote about the quilted waistcoats that 18th & 19th c. gentlemen would have  worn for relaxing at home, or underneath a jacket. It was an easy, informal style, and a warm one, too, a welcome layer in a drafty room heated only by a fireplace. 

But what of the ladies? What were they wearing as they sat at their equally drafty desks, writing and reading those endless letters that seem to have begun most every well-bred lady's day? They wore their own form of quilted waistcoats, often called jumps. Made of wool, or silk, or linen, they were heavily quilted to give them shape, and only lightly boned, if at all. They could take the place of stays (corsets) while at home, or could also be worn over them. Some had separate sleeves that could be tied on at the shoulders for extra warmth. Add a quilted petticoat (we'd call it a skirt) and wool stockings, and a lady would be well-fortified against the cold.

But as we saw with the gentlemen's quilted waistcoats, keeping warm didn't mean being unfashionable. These two reproductions, both stitched by the mantua-makers of Colonial Williamsburg, are not only elegantly quilted (all that diamond-patterned stitching is done by hand), but the example at lower left is also beautifully embroidered.  The flaps on the lower edge are to accommodate the gathered fullness of the petticoats.

Here are two more examples,  a bright yellow one from the Victoria & Albert Museum and another from the CW collections.

Coming on Friday: what the 18th c. lady wears out-of-doors to keep warm! 

Garters at work

Loretta reports:

Susan & I have had several discussions about garters, and where it is best to tie them if you are living in the days before the latest thing, i.e., the garters illustrated in my previous blog.

Contemporary illustrations show us that garters could be tied just above the knee or just below it.  Top left, Boucher’s The Toilette (1742), shows a lady tying her garters above her knee.  You’ll note that this is just above the knee, not up on her thigh.

You can blow up this Fragonard painting  and focus on the lady’s garters.  Again, they're tied just above the knee.  Since garters didn’t contain elastic (although they might have springs), one tied them at a place on the leg where a natural bulge would help keep them from sliding down. 

Another good place to tie our heroine’s garters is just below the knee, above the swell of the calf, as Rowlandson illustrates in his Exhibition Stare-Case (ca 1811) and his many erotic engravings.

In the Rowlandson print you’ll notice how smoothly the stockings cling.  But I suspected this was not the case so much in real life.  (Anyone who wore nylon or silk stockings and garters pre-Lycra knows the annoyance of ankle sag.)

Art and illustrations usually show us smooth stockings, as in John Hoppner’s full length portrait of Captain George Porter (second at left).

But not always.  The Guitarist, by Jean Baptiste Greuze (1757), shows us how, I suspect, the stockings usually appeared in real life.