Friday, May 6, 2011

How to dance Regency style

Friday, May 6, 2011
Loretta reports:

During the early 19th century, gently-bred maidens were closely chaperoned.  This didn’t mean they had no chance for private conversations with gentlemen, but the opportunities were extremely limited.  Dancing was one method.

About halfway through this video clip is a fine example of a private conversation in a crowd.  (It continues in Episode 2 Part 5/6.)




Every time I watch this (and yes, it’s been many times), I marvel at Darcy and Elizabeth’s being able to talk while not missing their steps—and this was only one of many dances they would have to know.

And what, exactly, were the dances?  You’ll find the answers here at Regency Dances Org.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Shoes of Silk, Shoes of Earthenware: c. 1730

Thursday, May 5, 2011
Susan reporting:

An 18th c. lady's shoe could be a graceful, wearable work of art, the collaborative product of craftspeople skilled in leather work, embroidery, silk-weaving, and even jewelry. This shoe, left, of silk brocade is a wonderful example, the height of fashion from the curving heel to the upturned toe. It's definitely a shoe meant for drawing rooms and assemblies, and likely never walked out-of-doors much farther than from the carriage up the steps to the front door.

Sometimes, however, an elegant shoe could also be inspiration for another artisan, as the shoe, right, demonstrates. Made of the tin-glazed earthenware commonly known as Delftware, the maker of this shoe captured in clay all the stylishly curving lines and stitched details of then-contemporary footwear. Historians believe that these shoes were most likely intended as tokens of affection, exchanged between friends or lovers.

But the blue-and-white shoes could have had more significance than simply pretty trinkets. Shoes have long had superstitions and beliefs attached to them, most involving good luck. "Hurl after me a shoe," wrote the Elizabethan playwright and poet Ben Jonson, "I'll be merry whatever I do." Shoes were sealed into the walls of houses from the middle ages into the 19th c. to help keep away misfortunes and witches, and today newlyweds still have old shoes tied to their car's bumpers for good luck. Could these shoes have been a pair of good luck charms as well as a stylish statement?

Top: Pair of Shoes, London, England, 1729 (dated), tin-glazed earthenware
Bottom: Women's Shoe, England, 1730-1740, brocaded silk, silver, leather, linen
Both collection of Colonial Williamsburg Foundation

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Wife for sale in Lincolnshire

Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Loretta reports:

I’ve posted before about wife selling, but this one I hadn't seen before, came directly from a ladies’ magazine rather than a compendium, and was particularly interesting regarding the conditions of the sale.  I'm still scratching my head, wondering if it was a wife sale or a wife rental.
~~~
LINCOLNSHIRE. One of those scenes which are a disgrace to the police, lately took place at Spilsby. One Thomus Sowden, of Wainfleet, publicly exposed his wife for sale in Spilsby market, and sold her for five guineas, a larger sum than we have heard a wife to bring at a public sale for some time past. One of the engagements in this disgraceful bargain, was, that the husband should have the liberty of visiting her at what time he thought proper, without let or molestation. After the conclusion of the sale the parties retired to a public-house, where for five days and nights they feasted upon the fruits of the bargain; but at length tired out by the powerful influence of Morpheus, like pigs, they all retired to the same stye, certainly the fittest place for this unnatural trio.  We are astonished the magistrates do not interfere upon these occasions, and prevent such public insults to the morals of the people. Surely they are punishable for an offence contra bonos mores, if by no other statute.

—La Belle assemblée, Volume 1, 1810 (May)
Illustration:  Thomas Rowlandson, Selling a Wife, courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Royal Wedding's Page Boys, & Historical Boys in Red

Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Susan reporting:

While most discussions of last week's Royal Wedding focus on the bride's dress and the guests' hats, I wanted to add an appreciation for the attire of two of the youngest people in wedding party: the pages. Here's a photo and another, from the British Monarchy flickr stream (and how wonderfully incongruous does that sound?)

The two boys wore uniforms designed in the Royal Household and created by Kashket & Partners, who also fitted Prince William's uniform.  Doubtless there was some input from Catherine Middleton as well. While the uniforms were inspired by those of the Irish Guards (Prince William is their Colonel) and carried many of the same insignia, they more closely followed the style of Regency-era uniforms worn by officers in the Foot Guards, including the ivory breeches, white stockings, and buckled shoes. The glittering gold embroidery on the cuffs and collars was created by the Royal School of Needlework, also responsible for the exquisite handwork on the bride's gown. The boy's heavy tasseled sashes (what threats were made, I wonder, to keep those boys from whipping them around?) are still worn by officers in the Irish Guards when in the presence of a Member of the Royal Family.

But there's more history behind the miniature uniforms, too. In the 18th-19th c., the color red was much more associated with English boys than blue. It was considered a properly masculine color, and one with strong military overtones as well as the color for hunting. As soon as a boy was breeched – dressed in male adult-style clothing instead of the unisex white gowns of babies – bright red usually made an appearance in his wardrobe. Later in the 19th c., when color first was used in infant clothing, pink, as the lesser version of red, was the color for boys, while girls were dressed in pale blue. (For more about gender-dressing by color, see this article from Smithsonian.)

The young gentleman in the Portrait of the Vernon Children, above, is shown dressed in red, and if that's not sufficiently martial, he's also carrying a toy rifle and wearing a helmet/hat – and there's no question about the gender roles predetermined for his sister, either. Mr. Willet, lower left, adopts a swaggering male stance in his red suit, standing guard over his siblings. But even for boys of a less martial bent, red was the color of choice. Dreamy Master Charles William Lambton, right, looks more destined to make love, not war, but his red velvet suit still proclaims him as all-male.

I can't say for certain that the Royal Wedding pages were dressed in red in honor of historical color-precedent, but in a wedding with so much other carefully chosen symbolism, it has to be a possibility. Symbolic or not, red and gold was the perfect, glorious foil to the bridal white. Ahh, spectacle!

Above: Portrait of the Vernon Children by George Romney, 1780s
Right: Master Charles William Lambton by Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1825
Lower left: The Willet Children by George Romney, 1789

Monday, May 2, 2011

Walking Dress for May 1814

Monday, May 2, 2011
Loretta reports:

This one struck me as a particularly charming concoction.  It must be my weakness for lace.  Am I the only one who swooned over the sleeves of the Duchess of Cambridge's bridal dress?  And that veil!
~~~
FASHIONS FOR LADIES.

PLATE 31.—WALKING DRESS.
A high dress, of short walking length, composed of French cambric or mull muslin, plain buttons, and unornamented in the front; a military collar, with an edging of embroidery ; a full fan frill of lace, or a single fluted ruff of the same; the bottom of the dress ornamented with a full flounce, confined by two, borders of embroidery corresponding with the collar; plain long sleeve, with a military worked cuff. White silk shawl handkerchief, the corners richly embossed with the fleur delis, tied carelessly over the bosom with a bow of satin ribband. The hair worn much over the face in loose curls. The Blücher, something resembling the Spanish hat, has a square and low crown, is formed of sea-green satin, lined with white velvet, and trimmed with richly cut velvet ribband: it is ornamented in front with a drooping plume of ostrich feathers. The scarf mantle, corresponding in colour with the Blücher, is composed either of velvet or satin, has neither cape nor hood; it is rounded at one end, and brought to a point at the other, with a deep long slope in the neck, and is trimmed all round with a broad white lace. Slippers of green kid: gloves to correspond, or Limerick.

—Rudolph Ackermann, The Repository of arts, literature, commerce, manufactures, fashions and politics,  1814 (May).
 
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