When Reading Became Fashionable

Isabella reporting,

The Age of Enlightenment wasn't just about Diderot's encyclopedia and Johnson's dictionary. The 18th c. is also the first time when English and French women began to read.

Yes, I know, there had always been educated women in the elite classes who read and wrote and spoke languages both ancient and modern, but the 1700s mark the beginning of more and more women reading for pleasure (and not just the pleasure of the over-wrought romance reader I featured last week.)

Novels were still a relatively new invention, and an increasingly popular one, too. A growing middle class had the money and leisure for books, and though the men might twit the women about reading romantic novels, they still paid the bookseller bills of their wives and daughters along with their own. Women of fashion weren't afraid of being considered bluestockings because they read, and the perils of heroines like Clarissa, Evelina, and Serena were as avidly discussed over silver tea pots as they were in shops.

Where earlier generations of ladies might have held a nosegay or a bit of needlework when they sat for their portraits, 18th c. women were now shown reading, or with an open book as if they'd just been interrupted. From peeresses to young girls in the new United States of America, these ladies were proudly painted with their books.

When even Mme. du Pompadour, the royal favorite of Louis XV, was painted repeatedly with a book in her hand, you know books were one fashion that was here to stay. Jane Austen is just around the corner of the 19th century. .  .  .

Here are a handful of 18th c. ladies reading; I hope you'll click on the images to enlarge them.

Top to bottom:
Portrait of Madame du Pompadour, by François Boucher, c.1750-58. Scottish National Gallery.
Woman Reading by a Paper-bell Shade, by Henry Robert Morland, c. 1766.
Young Girl Reading, by Jean-Honoré Fragonard, c. 1770. National Gallery of Art.
Sophia Drake, by Ralph Earl, c. 1784. Private Collection.
Emily, Marchioness of Kildare, by Allan Ramsay, c. 1764-66. National Museums Liverpool.
Serena Reading, by George Romney, c.1782, Dulwich Picture Gallery.

Ornamental Air Stove for September 1825

View online here

Loretta reports:

Though Isabella and I have posted about stoves and other warming devices before, and we know that several methods of heating were used, I was nonetheless taken aback by this "air stove" shown in Ackermann's Repository for September 1825.

Read online here

Read online here

Breakfast Links: Week of September 9, 2013

We survived Friday the Thirteenth unscathed, but that doesn't mean there aren't plenty of surprises in this week's Breakfast Links - our fav links to other web sites, blogs, articles, and images, all gathered for you from around the Twitterverse.
• Untangling the tale of the seven Sutherland sisters and their 37 feet of hair.
• Inside a Regency haberdashery shop.
• Storming the castle of love - a great scene on the remains of a medieval ivory mirror case from the 14th century.
• Recipes for 18th c. dogs.
• The WWII propaganda campaign that popularized the myth that carrots help you see in the dark.
• Nottingham in 1796: overrun with giggling, gambling spinsters?
• Ladies at the Columbian Exposition see Samoans (and bare flesh?) for the first time, 1893, Chicago.
• Turquoise, belts, buckles and garters tell a tale of chivalry & love in 19th c. mourning & sentimental jewelry.
• The sad tale of the body of James IV, killed at the Battle of Flodden September 9, 1513.
• Ale and beer in Shakespeare's time.
• Rapper's delight: a "spirit-rapping" humbug in Bridgeport, CT, 1865.
• Tansy time: an old medicinal and culinary herb used for everything from repelling flies to curing hysteria.
• First-person account of Sarah Deming, making her way out of besieged Boston in 1775.
• In honor of Fashion Week, fifty dresses that changed fashion history.
• "We had previously decided to jump into the water before she actually went down": Titanic escape plans.
• Likely as weighty as it sounds: 18th c. recipe for lumber pie.
• Here's a photo of a modern-made lumber pie, plus examples and recipes of historical "bake metes and mince pies."
• "I ought to have the right to control that window!" Etiquette in trains in 1878 and 1929.
• Whatever happened to snuff, that 18th c. vice? Apparently it never went away.
• A 1938 wedding in this NYC mansion features music by operatic stars, including diva Lily Pons.
• When did "chicken" become synonymous with being afraid/terrified?
• "A story of human wrong, suffering, sorrow, & succor": unwanted children of the 19th c.
• Why do some American college campuses look so Gothic?
• Pretty pincushions embroidered by British soldiers in WWI and sent to sweethearts back home.
• "Boil 20-25 minutes": taste-testing a mac & cheese recipe from 1894.
• From long-gone London: four streets off Hockley Hole.
Hungry for more? Follow us on Twitter @2nerdyhistgirls for fresh updates daily!

Friday Video: If "Monty Python & the Holy Grail" Were Marketed Like "Game of Thrones"

Isabella reporting,

Today's video clip has been whipping around the internet all week, but it's just too amusing not to share here as well - and besides, Loretta and I are die-hard Monty Python fans. This fake trailer gives the classic 1975 movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail the big-budget-Hollywood treatment reserved for an Epic Historical Blockbuster: all the swirling smoke, slow-motion tortured faces, sudden violence, and huge slashing swords. Yet every bit of it comes from the supremely silly Holy Grail. Hats (or helmets) off to Stéphane Bouley for this great way to begin the weekend!

Creating Fashionable Coiffures in 1828

Loretta reports:

Regular readers will be aware of my delight in Romantic Era dress, especially the extravagant sleeves and nutty hairstyles.  Isabella/Susan very recently sent me a link to a site where historical hairstyles are recreated.  This inspired me to investigate how it was done and what hair products they used.  So I turned to my trusty The Lady’s Stratagem.

One style we see again and again involves two or more big loops sprouting from the top of the head.  In fashion plates, these present an interesting hairstyling puzzle, which the recreations (Photo 2, top row.  Photos 1 & 2, second row) help solve.  According to The Lady’s Stratagem, the hair can be tied first or:

“Just as commonly, the hair is not tied:  you gather it and hold it very firmly In your left hand, twist it with this same hand, and immediately place the comb on it to hold it.  Then you make nœuds d’Apollon or Apollo knots; so are called the large loops of hair on the summit of the head.  This style has been in fashion for a long time; every one says that it will last.”

And it did, well into the 1830s, until about 1836-7, when fashion went droopy.

View online here

Since the instructions quoted in The Lady’s Stratagem are lengthy, I can only refer you to that book for the details on creating this style—or, if your French is better than mine, you can follow the directions in Arte de se coiffer soi-même, enseigné aux dames (1828) (here or here).






From what I can determine, one of the hair oils we’ve seen advertised or similar product or a pomade was used to keep hair smoothly in place.