Category Archives: Late Victorian fashions

Fashion Plates (for Men and Women) from the Met Costume Institute

1921 fashion plate from the Metropolitan Museum collection. Click here to see it in larger versions.

1921 fashion plate from the Metropolitan Museum collection. Click here to see it in larger versions.

The Metropolitan Museum continues its generous policy of sharing images online; “Fashion plates from the collections of the Costume Institute and the Irene Lewisohn Costume Reference Library at The Metropolitan Museum of Art” are now available (and searchable) at http://libmma.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/landingpage/collection/p15324coll12

Click here, and scroll down for a lengthy list of sub-collections of fashion plates: menswear, children, wedding, women, headgear, etc., organized by date or range of dates.

What really excited me is the large number of men’s fashion plates, many dated very precisely, like these tennis outfits from 1905-06.

Men's tennis outfits, 1905 1906; Metropolitan Museum Fashion Plates collection. Plate 029.

Men’s tennis outfits, 1905-1906; Metropolitan Museum Fashion Plates Collection. Plate 029. For full image, click here.

If you need to skim through a year or a decade of men’s fashion, this is a great place! It’s also going to be very helpful to collectors who are trying to date specific items of men’s clothing. Sometimes the date range given is very narrow (e.g., 1905-06) and sometimes it’s rather broad (e.g., 1896 to 1913) but menswear is neglected by many costume collections, so this is a terrific resource.

Vintage vests for men. Undated. Details like the lapels, the shape of the waist, the depth of the opening, the buttons, etc., will help to date them from reference materials

Vintage evening vests for men. Undated. Details like the lapels, the shape of the waist, the depth of the opening, the buttons, etc., will help the collector to date them from reference materials.

In addition to full outfits, like these evening clothes …

Evening dress for men, 1909-1910. Met Museum Costume Plate.

Evening dress for men, 1909-1910. Met Museum Costume Plate.

… individual items like vests can also be found:

Men's vests; fashion plate from the Met Museum fashion plate collection category "1900-1919 men"

Men’s vests; fashion plate from the Met Museum fashion plate collection category “1900-1919 men.” The vests on the left have five buttons.

Undated vintage vests. Both have high necklines, but one has seven buttons instead of six.

Undated vintage vests. Both have high necklines, but one has seven buttons and one has six. You could probably date them from the Met’s Fashion Plate Collection.

Men's vests 1896 to 1899. The red one reminds us that vests (aka weskits) sometimes had sleeves.

From “Men 1896 to 1899.” The red one reminds us that vests (aka weskits) sometimes had sleeves. The red one with vertical stripes may be a footman’s or other servant’s vest. This plate is dated February 1898.

Of course, fashion plates that have been separated from their descriptions in text are less useful than a complete magazine or catalog. Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the chance to see these rare collections, especially because the men are not forgotten.

This delightful plate reminds me of an Edward Gorey vamp — like the ones dancing through the credits on Mystery on Public Television.

A long evening gown from the House of Worth, 1921. Met Museum Costume Collection Fashion Plate.

A long evening gown from the House of Worth, 1921. Met Museum Costume Institute Fashion Plate.

I’ll add a link to the collection to my “Sites with Great Information” sidebar. (There are other treasures to explore there….)

 

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Beauty Spots, Court Plasters, and Patches

A package of gummed black beauty spots, from Johnson and Johnson, circa 1915-1927.

A package of gummed black beauty spots, from Johnson and Johnson, between 1912 and 1927.

When I inherited my Aunt’s house, I found this little envelope, about three inches wide. It originally contained “100 Assorted Beauty Spots manufactured by Johnson and Johnson.”
There are quite are few left in the envelope.

Gummed beauty spots in the shape of circles, stars, crescent moons, triangles, etc.

Gummed beauty spots in the shape of circles, stars, crescent moons, squares,  triangles, etc.

According to the very helpful Kilmer House website, Johnson and Johnson first made this item in 1912, and continued to sell Beauty Spots until 1927. You can read a very good article from Kilmer House about court plasters, beauty spots, and their relationship to Band-Aids (TM) by clicking here.

Butterick pattern 4298 for a "Martha Washington" costume. February, 1924.

Butterick pattern 4298 for a “Martha Washington” costume. Delineator, February, 1924.

When I was writing about this vintage masquerade costume pattern a few days ago, I noticed that “Martha Washington” had beauty spots on her face, and remembered the little package that belonged to my Aunt Dot. (no pun intended.)

Pattern for an 18th century costume, from 1924. Accessories: a white wig, a small mask, and beauty spots.

Pattern for an 18th century costume, from 1924. Accessories: a white wig, a small mask, and beauty spots.

The satirists Joseph Addison and Richard Steele, writing in their magazine, The Spectator in 1711, produced a much quoted satire on ladies wearing beauty spots (then called “patches.”) You can read it by clicking here. (It’s followed by a satire on the size of petticoats in 1709.)

The young man has a patch on his neck; the woman is wearing at least two patches. Hogarth, Marriage a la Mode, Plate III. From Engravings by Hogarth, Sean Shesgreen, Ed.

The young man has a patch on his neck; the woman is wearing at least two patches. Hogarth, Marriage a la Mode, Plate III, 1745. From Engravings by Hogarth, Sean Shesgreen, Ed.

These little black patches (called “mouches” in France) could be stuck to the face to draw attention to an attractive feature (like the natural mole near Cindy Crawford’s lips.) A small black star near the eye might give importance to that feature, while  distracting us from a missing tooth, or a pimple on the nose. In fact, Steele mentions a lady who used a patch to cover a pimple, which made people misjudge her political affiliation. (He says patches on the right or on the left cheek proclaimed a lady’s politics in 1711.)

There is a wonderful gallery of 17th and 18th century images featuring beauty marks and patches at Poor Little Rich Girl by Boudoir Queen. Click here to enjoy them.

Norma Shearer in Marie Antoinette, Costumed by Adrian in 1938. From Creating the Illusion, by Jorgenson and Scoggins,, p. 144.

Norma Shearer in Marie Antoinette, Costumed by Adrian in 1938. From Creating the Illusion, by Jorgenson and Scoggins, p. 144.

Here is 1930’s star Norma Shearer as Marie Antoinette wearing beauty patches. Her costumes, by Adrian, were many yards over the top (and the movie was in black and white!)

Here is an Italian diagram for the placement of beauty spots.

Marilyn Monroe sometimes accented her mole, or beauty mark.

This Pictorial Review cover from 1927 shows a woman in an 18th century white wig and a beauty spot.

Men wore beauty patches, too.  According to The Encyclopedia of Fashion,

“Beginning in the late sixteenth century, fashionable men and women imitated this natural mark by sticking black beauty patches on their faces. These patches were eventually used to send signals to members of the opposite sex in flirtatious courtship rituals, but they had a practical use as well. Carefully shaped black patches could be applied to hide blemishes and scars on the face, especially the deep round scars left on those who survived the frequent outbreaks of smallpox.” Read more here.

The historical film spectacle Orphans of the Storm (the storm was the French Revolution) opened in 1921. Rudolf Valentino’s movie Monsieur Beaucaire (1924) may also have prompted some people to wear 18th century masquerade costumes in the twenties. In this poster,  both Valentino and his female co-star wear “patches.” Here is another view.

There  was even a language of patches, just as there was a language of fans and a language of flowers. With three patches you could day “I am married” but “I entertain propositions” and “I know how to keep a secret, ” among other things.

In novels of the early twentieth century, a small cut may be treated with a self-adhesive “court plaster,” which you cut to size as needed. Practical big sisters often carried court plasters in their pockets.  Kilmer House — the history division of Johnson and Johnson —  explains the name:

“Johnson & Johnson made Beauty Spots out of materials left over from making plasters.  Since 1887, Johnson & Johnson had been making Court Plasters, which had the same origins but were the more practical cousin to Beauty Spots.  To confuse matters, Beauty Spots were sometimes referred to as Court Plasters, a name that goes back to their origins in the royal courts of Europe.  They had been used by court women, who set the fashions in their day.  According to Fred Kilmer, Court Plasters started out as fashion statements, before being used by the masses to cover small cuts and scratches. “

Into the Gloss wrote a nice summary of attitudes toward moles and beauty marks over the years.

My Aunt Dot, sitting on a roof as a teenager in 1919. She like costume parties. I wonder when she bought that package of beauty spots.

My Aunt Dot, sitting on a roof as a teenager in 1919. She liked costume parties. I wonder when she bought that package of beauty spots, and how she used them.

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Martha, Is That You?

George and Martha Washington in illustration for article in Delineator, February 1925, p. 19.

George and Martha Washington in an illustration for an article in Delineator, February 1925, p. 19.

I was making an inventory of a vintage costume collection for a friend, trying not to spend too much time on items with little resale value. I found a section of bustle dresses, or parts of them, that were clearly “the real thing.”

Vintage bustle dress, skirt missing.

Vintage bustle dress, skirt missing. Too small to fasten on the mannequin.

Vintage bustle dress , embroidered buttons. Details.

Vintage bustle dress, embroidered buttons. Details. The fabric is substantial.

Vintage brown taffeta bustle dress top; skirt missing.

Vintage brown taffeta bustle dress top; skirt missing. The long overdress fitting snugly at the hips, with gathers almost over the pelvis, can be seen in 1879-1880.

I never had time to photograph that one on a mannequin. The front with long, low gathering is very distinctive.

Back detail of late Victorian overdress. Skirt missing.

Back and fabric detail of late Victorian overdress. Brocade, satin, and velvet.

Front of long dress in autumn colors, satin underskirt.

Front of long dress in autumn colors, satin underskirt.

Late Victorian bustle dress, side view.

Late Victorian bustle dress, side view. Changeable taffeta.

A vintage bustle dress with back draperies pulled up, rather like a 19th century version of an 18th century polonaise.

A vintage bustle dress with back draperies pulled up, rather like a 19th century version of an 18th century polonaise. Skirt missing; a petticoat is visible.

All those crisp fabrics — and then I reached into the “bustle era” hanging storage and put my hand on this one:

A polaise -- sort of. Print cotton fabric, soft and droopy, rather too small in circumference....

Not a bustle, but a polonaise — sort of. It has elements of the robe a la francaise. Print cotton fabric, soft and droopy, rather too small in circumference…. for a moment, I thought it might be a “Dolly Varden dress.” (An 1870’s fad based on an 18th c. character in a Dickens novel.)

But, no, it’s a masquerade costume — meant to be 18th century — from a period that favored soft, droopy fabrics, no boning, and a skirt less full than the 1780’s.

 Martha Washington costume pattern, Butterick, 1924.

Martha Washington costume pattern 4258, Butterick, 1924.  (It is not this exact dress, but shows the effects of 1920’s style on the perception of 1780’s fashions.)

The front of the costume was never photographed on a mannequin, but you can see, as it hangs on a coat hanger (that’s how I found it) that the sheer ruffles on each side of the front are long enough to be worn crossed like the “Martha Washington” costume’s fichu:

Top of a masquerade or theatrical costume made in the the 20th century, but suggesting the Colonial period.

Top of a masquerade or theatrical costume made in the the 20th century, but suggesting the Colonial period. The sheer ruffles on the front are very long, probably meant to cross over the breast and waist. The machine stitching on the sleeve flounces is crude.

It has an interior bodice made of netting — a practice I have seen in dresses of the nineteen-teens.

The inner bodice of costume is made of netting. A theatrical costume would be lined with a strong fabric, like muslin, to take the strain off the seams -- and to allow for a tight fit over a period corset.

The inner bodice of costume is made of netting. A theatrical costume would normally be flat-lined with a strong fabric, like muslin, to take the strain off the seams — and to allow for a tight fit over a period corset.

All the sewing is a bit sloppy — and  why not, for a costume that might be worn only once?

These pieces of twill tape inside the skirt hold up the poufs of the polonaise.

These pieces of twill tape inside the skirt hold up the “Polonaise” poufs of the overskirt.

At the time when I found it, I wondered why my friend had collected something so clearly not “the real thing.”

But, many years afterward, I remembered it when I realized that pattern companies have been making “colonial lady” and “Marie Antoinette” patterns for costume parties, Halloween parties, centennials and local history pageants, 4th of July parties, and amateur theatricals for a very long time.

A Martha Washington costume from Butterick, February 1924. It is wrong, wrong, wrong, but dressing up in a masquerade costume like this was more glamorous and romantic than many other options.

A “Martha Washington” costume from Butterick, February 1924. As far as historic accuracy goes, it is pretty awful, but dressing up in a masquerade costume like this was more glamorous and romantic than many other options.

Click here for another Butterick  “Martha Washington”  pattern, circa 1941, No. 1695. The dress my friend collected does a better job of interpreting the back of an 18th century dress than either of the Butterick patterns.

Martha Washington Costume pattern 4258 and Continental suit costume pattern, Delineator, Feb. 1925, p. 37.

Martha Washington costume pattern 4258 and Continental suit costume pattern 4262, Delineator, Feb. 1925, p. 37.

 

 

 

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Filed under 1700s, 1870s to 1900s fashions, 1920s, Costumes for the 18th Century, Costumes for the 19th century, Dresses, Late Victorian fashions, Old Advertisements & Popular Culture, Tricks of the Costumer's Trade, Uncategorized, Vintage Garments: The Real Thing, Vintage patterns

Victorian Era Maternity Clothing

A friend collected these vintage garments many years ago. She always had an interest in maternity fashions and other women’s issues, like active sports’ wear. I regret that I do not have better photos, but I suspect that these garments are not the kind that usually turn up in museums, so I’ll share what I have.

The one that I find most interesting is, sadly, the one with the worst photos.

Changeable taffeta basque bodice with fitted back and unfitted front, pagoda sleeves, Mid-Victorian. Private collection.

Changeable taffeta basque bodice with fitted back and unfitted front, pagoda sleeves, Mid-Victorian. Private collection. It this a maternity basque?

The changeable taffeta has tiny stripes, and photographs as brownish or bluish, depending on the angle.

For comparison, here is another Mid-Victorian basque from the same collection, also made of striped taffeta — but this one is definitely not suitable for maternity wear:

Mid-Victorian basque or bodice. The front closes in a V shape; the three-scalloped back is visible behind the V front as it lies on a table. Private collection.

Mid-Victorian basque or bodice. The front waist closes in a V shape decorated with ribbon; the three-scalloped back “tail” lined with self-fabric is visible behind the V front as it lies on a table. Private collection.

My friend believed the one with a very full front was a maternity basque, probably because there are two lines of hand stitching across its full front — once used to gather it in. You can see from the wrinkles in the taffeta that at one time it was gathered to a smaller size than it is now.

The "Maternity basque" has two lines of gathering threads, and the wrinkles show that it was gathered tightly at some point.

The “Maternity basque” has two lines of gathering threads across the front, and the wrinkles show that it was gathered tightly at some time.

Inside waist stitching of "maternity basque" -- it went through all layers. Here, the changeable taffeta on the outside appears blue.

Inside waist stitching of “maternity basque” — two lines of gathering went through all layers. Here, the changeable taffeta on the outside appears blue. The inside is cotton sateen, I think.

The hand-stitching it so tiny that only the occasional knot at the end of a thread betrays it.

The hand-stitching is so tiny that only the occasional knot at the end of a thread betrays it. This is quite different from the running-stitched gathers across the front.

The back lining, showing its tapered-to-the-waist fitted shape.

The back lining, showing its tapered-to-the-waist fitted shape.

Wrappers and Dressing Sacks, Late Victorian

Another option for the pregnant woman in a corseted, tight-waisted era was the wrapper. We would call it a robe, and the fancy versions for receiving callers were called “tea-gowns,” but they were made of many fabrics, from simple cotton prints to wool or luxurious silks. The cotton ones were often worn as house-dresses.

My friend probably bought this one because it might have been used by a pregnant woman. It is in the style of the 1890’s, with a black velvet yoke trimmed with black lace, a bow behind the high neck, and very full upper sleeves.

A lady's wrapper or house gown, late 1900's. This could be worn for breakfast, or for receiving visitors if necessary.

A lady’s wrapper or house gown, late 1800’s. This could be worn for breakfast, or for receiving visitors if necessary. It was so small it could not be buttoned on a size 2 mannequin.

I think the fabric is either wool challis or a wool-cotton blend. The back bodice is very fitted, the front very full.  Was it a maternity gown? I can’t be sure.

This is the way the garment would look on a tiny woman.

This is the way the garment would look when buttoned; it would only fit a tiny woman or adolescent girl.

Like many wrappers, it has a loose outer layer and a fitted inner bodice:

Under the loose, full front, there is a tightly fitted inner bodice.

Under the loose, full front, there is a tightly fitted inner bodice. The outer layer closes with hooks and eyes. The inner bodice held the back close to the body.

Wrappers from Sears (1900) were illustrated to show a similar inner lining — intended to take the place of a corset when breakfasting — or when you couldn’t wear a tight-waisted corset any more.

Wrappers from the Sears catalog, Spring 1900, show an inner bodice lining for support while not wearing a corset.

Wrappers from the Sears catalog, Spring 1900, show an inner bodice lining for support while not wearing a corset. Without the belt, the front would be loose and full.

The inner bodice seems to have adjustable lacing at the sides.

The inner bodice has lacing at the sides, for expansion as needed.

The inner bodice has lacing at the sides, for expansion as needed. The yoke probably fastens with hooks and eyes at one shoulder and armscye.

Of course, just because the hidden underbodice can be buttoned, that does not mean the wearer would have to button it completely. A woman could button just the outer yoke, or just the top buttons.

The tiny wrapper on a size 2 mannequin -- it won't close completely.

The tiny wrapper on a size 2 mannequin — it won’t close completely. When the yoke is closed, there is a great deal of fullness at center front.

A flannelette wrapper from Sears, 1896. This one has a Watteau back, a yoke, and characteristically huge 1895-6 sleeves.

A flannelette wrapper from Sears, 1896. This one has a full, Watteau back, a yoke, and huge Bishop sleeves. The waist [bodice] “is lined artistically.” The front yoke appears uninterrupted by an opening, so perhaps it lapped across and fastened at the shoulder like the one below.

This vintage wrapper is so worn that the velveteen yoke and collar are almost completely bald.

Late Victorian or ToC Wrapper, very worn.

Late Victorian Wrapper, very worn.

The fabric is heavy, and once went well with its rust red velveteen yoke, collar, and cuffs. This garment closes with hooks and eyes; possibly at the neck and shoulder under the yoke, and definitely under the back yoke. (I’m sorry I didn’t photograph it open; I have forgotten exactly how it worked.)

The yoke and collar wrap around to the back shoulder and close with hooks and eyes -- you would probably need help.

The yoke and collar wrap around to the back shoulder on one side and close with hooks and eyes — you would probably need help. The arrows point to bare patches on the fabric. There’s a narrow strip of rust-red plush neat the center arrow.

I love the fact that this shabby garment was collected, not for its beauty or condition, but because it is a record of an ordinary woman’s life.

Another possible maternity garment, in the days when middle-class women in an advanced stage of pregnancy remained at home, was the smock-like semi-robe known as a “dressing sack.” A descendant of the combing sacque, which was supposed to be worn while brushing or styling your hair, the one on the left is described as “made very loose at the waist. It is very comfortable and cooling.”

Two dressing sacks from Sears, Spring, 1900. The woman in the middle is showing the tight underbodice of her wrapper.

Two dressing sacks from Sears, Spring, 1900. The woman in the middle is showing the tight underbodice of her wrapper. “This wrapper is made with the celebrated corset waist [i.e., underbodice] as well as drawstrings around the waist. It s adjustable and can be fitted to any figure.” You can barely see the adjustable lacings.

Since, even in the 1930’s, maternity dresses were illustrated as if the women wearing them had no need for them, there is a lot of coded language in early descriptions. Perhaps the “celebrated corset waist” was merely a comfortable way to have breakfast before dressing for the day. But what about those expandable lacings, and that adjustable drawstring waist?

A wrapper style housedress with an internal corset and adjustable drawstring waist. Sears no. 63397, Spring 1900.

A wrapper style house dress with an internal corset and adjustable drawstring waist on the skirt lining. Sears No. 63397, Spring 1900.

 

 

 

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Filed under 1830s -1860s fashions, 1860s -1870s fashions, 1870s to 1900s fashions, Costumes for the 19th century, Late Victorian fashions, Maternity clothes, Mid-Victorian fashions, Nightclothes and Robes, Uncategorized, Vintage Garments: The Real Thing

Annie Jenness-Miller’s Editorial, Dress, March 1890

“It is not to be questioned that all women, without regard to social position, or lack of it, would rather be comfortable than uncomfortable, and the woman who does not wish to look well is sadly out of balance with the beautiful laws of God and Nature.” — Annie Jenness-Miller, in Dress, March 1890.

Annie Jenness-Miller explained her ideas about reforming women’s dress in lectures, in books, and, repeatedly, in her magazine, Dress. This three-page editorial appeared in March, 1890. I will type out some quotations, and add some illustrations from the same issue of Dress magazine. I will run the entire text of her “Editorial Comment” at the bottom of this post. If you would like to read the complete pages in full screen, I have posted them at witness2fashion.com. Just click on the image of the page and then select the full-screen view.

Editorial Comments by Annie Jenness-Miller in Dress, Volume IV, March, 1890. The comments ran from page 135 through 137.

Editorial Comments by Annie Jenness-Miller in Dress, Volume IV, March, 1890. The comments ran from page 135 [this page] through 137.

On page 135 she writes, “Dress reform is scarcely the work in which we are engaged, for the idea is less of reform than of physical evolution and development, and the consequent scientific clothing of the body.”

“For the most part, women wear too many garments…. With the Jenness-Miller system we endeavor to get the essential warmth with fewer garments, and the correct adaptation to the human shape and form….” To see and read about her Reform Underwear — click here.

On page 136, Jenness-Miller explains that Jenness-Miller Patterns, which could be ordered from the magazine, do not constrict the waist, because the garments are constructed upon the “gown-form, which gets rid of the band about the waist” instead of “the usual skirt lining ending at the waist on a belt.”

To show what she was criticizing, here are some typical late 1800’s outfits which have separate skirts and bodices. The weight of a fully lined bustle dress, like this one, which would usually be worn over drawers, a petticoat, a bustle cage, and another petticoat, all hanging from the wearer’s waist, could give you quite a backache. Jenness-Miller was an American; in England, rational dress advocate Lady Florence Harberton complained that no woman should have to wear undergarments that weighed more than seven pounds.

This "bustle dress," either 1870s or 1880s, is really a bodice and skirt -- a heavy skirt. Private collection.

This “bustle dress,” is really a bodice and skirt — a heavy skirt. Private collection. [Elaborate — and sun-faded — as it is, I’m not convinced that this is as old as it looks. See inside.]

Inside of the bodice, blue satin bustle dress. Private collection.

Inside of the bodice, blue satin bustle dress. This was in a private collection. [I’m a little dubious about the age of the boning…. Looks like a theatrical costume to me….]

In the two-piece outfit below, which is somewhat later than the Jenness-Miller magazine, the weight of the skirt — or raising your arms — could create a problem, since the bodice does not come down over the hips to cover the waistband at all times, causing “gaposis.”

When the bodice ends at the natural waist, as in this ToC outfit, hooks and eyes were needed to keep them together. Private collection.

When the bodice ended at the natural waist, as in this turn of the century outfit, hooks and eyes were needed to keep them together. Private collection.

The problem of “gaposis” [a 20th century advertising term] was solved by attaching hooks and loops:

Inside back of bodice, ToC garment.

Inside back of bodice, turn of the century garment — not dated precisely.

Detail. You can see the hooks, which are attached to the bodice facing in and hanging down, and the eyes, attached to the waistband of the skirt. This kept the two pieces aligned and gave some support to the skirt, which could be especially heavy in back from the 1860s through the 1890s. (Many devices for supporting the skirt have been invented.)

Detail. Back of bodice, front of skirt. You can see the hooks, which are attached to the bodice facing in and hanging down, and the eyes, attached to the waistband of the skirt, front and back. This kept the two pieces aligned and gave some support to the skirt, which could be especially heavy in back from the 1860s through the 1890s. (Many devices for supporting the skirt have been invented.)

 

“The gown form is the lining of the outside skirt, just as the usual skirt lining is the foundation upon which the outside material is made. In the ordinary fashionable gown the lining and material hang upon the hip, abdomen, and back, from a belt; in the Jenness-Miller system the lining extends upward into a low-necked, sleeveless waist [i.e., under-bodice], the dress material only ending at the waistline, sewed firmly to the foundation, and with a tape covering the raw edges. This arrangement does not suspend the weight from the shoulders, but instead, compels each member to carry its own weight.”

I interpret this to mean that “the dress material only” ends at the waistline, while the gown-form/lining continues down inside the skirt from shoulders to hem, spreading the weight of the fabrics. Some, but by no means all, of the Jenness-Miller patterns look like a “dress” rather than a skirt and bodice.

Following are some Jenness-Miller patterns from Dress, Vol IV, March 1890, the same issue which featured her three-page editorial.

Jenness-Miller pattern for "The Isonde." Dress, March 1890.

Jenness-Miller pattern for “The Isonde.” Dress, March 1890.

Two Easter Costumes, from Dress. Frontispiece, March 1890.

Two Easter Costumes, from Jenness-Miller’s Dress. Frontispiece, March 1890.

The fact that the skirt lining extended to the shoulders is not obvious from the outside of the dresses.

Alas, I have only a fragment about the Jenness-Miller gown-form from elsewhere in the magazine:

A fragment of text about the Jenness-Miller dress form (a lining method) from March 1890, page 128.

A fragment of text about the Jenness-Miller dress form (a lining method) from March 1890, page 128.

My guess at the missing parts is:

A possible reconstruction of missing text about the Jennes-Miller gown-form.

A possible reconstruction of missing text about the Jenness-Miller gown-form.

The Faustina, Dress, March 1890, p. 132.

The Faustina, Jenness-Miller’s Dress, March 1890, p. 132.

The Lilian dress was "designed for the benefit of those women whose constant plaint is that they have no hips." Dress, March 1890, p. 128.

The Lilian dress was “designed for the benefit of those women whose constant plaint is that they have no hips.” Jenness-Miller’s Dress, March 1890, p. 128.

The Cornelia, from Jenness-Miller's Dress. March 1890.

The Cornelia, from Jenness-Miller’s Dress. March 1890.

Calling a Leg a Leg

A woman paying a call, from Punch, July 1889. The hostess is sitting with her legs crossed, and slouching on her tailbone in a way Mrs. Jenness-MIller would not have approved. From The Way to Wear'em.

A woman paying a call, from Punch, July 1889. The hostess is sitting with her legs crossed, and slouching on her tailbone in a way that Mrs. Jenness-Miller would not have approved. From The Way to Wear’em.

“What these women really need to learn is not to sit on the end of the spine with the back curved outward….”

Casting light on the prudery of her era, on page 136 Annie Jenness-Miller’s editorial criticizes women “who would be shocked to use the strong, refined, and proper term, leg, in speaking of these useful and necessary members,” but who “will, in a thoughtless and unguarded moment, from habit, sit in a parlor with legs crossed in a manner to display the undergarments and attract unpleasant attention.”  (Those shockable women called their legs “members” or “nether limbs.”)

The Jenness-Miller School for Physical Culture

On page 137, the editor discusses her “Jenness-Miller School for Physical Culture.” She believed that women would be able to do without corsets if they strengthened the muscles of the abdomen through exercise, giving “nature’s own corsets, the floating ribs, room and freedom for proper play.” (Dress had pages of exercises for women illustrated in regular articles called “Physical Culture.”)

“The three-fold object of our system is the possession of grace, strength, and beauty…. No exercises will be allowed which sacrifice grace to strength…. Ease and freedom in motion will be taught by a variety of movements [including dance.] “Fencing, so admirably adapted to develop and fortify the chest, as well as to give agility and precision to movement, will be taught by Monsieur Senac, who has no rival in this art.”

“A form of Greek gown will be used in lieu of the suit ordinarily worn in athletic practice. This will fall loosely from the shoulder in graceful lines which will reveal the movements of the legs.”

Here is the full text, beginning with the left column on page 135:

art 1 135 maybe editoral underwear pg 1 March 1890

art 2 135 maybe editoral underwear pg 1 March 1890

art 3 135 maybe editoral underwear pg 1 March 1890

art 4 135 maybe editoral underwear pg 1 March 1890

art 6 135 maybe editoral underwear pg 1 March 1890

Page 136:

art 7 p 136 editorial undies p 2

art 8 136 editorial undies p 2

art 9 136 editorial undies p 2

art 10 136 editorial undies p 2

art 11 136 editorial undies p 2

art 15 136 editorial undies p 2

Page 137:

art 16 137 editorial undies fencing p3

art 17 137 editorial undies fencing p3

art 18 137 editorial undies fencing p3

art 19 137 editorial undies fencing p3

art 20 137 editorial undies fencing p3

art 21 137 editorial undies fencing p3

art 22 137 editorial undies fencing p3

End of page 137. These three pages of Editorial Comment were not illustrated, since the garments referred to had been described in earlier issues of the magazine. Monsieur Regis Senac ran a fencing school in New York. Carl Marwig was a dance teacher and Broadway choreographer.

 

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Jenness-Miller Rational Dress Underwear for Women

The Jenness-Miller Magazine Dress, Vol II, Jan-Feb, Probably 1888. Page 181. "Rational Dress" Underwear for Women.

The Jenness-Miller Magazine Dress, Vol II, Jan-Feb, probably 1888. Page 181. “Rational Dress” Underwear for Women.

The Jenness-Miller Magazine Dress, Vol. II, Jan-Feb, probably 1888. "Rational Dress" Underwear for Women, p. 182.

The Jenness-Miller Magazine Dress, Vol. II, Jan-Feb, probably 1888. “Rational Dress” Underwear for Women, p. 182.

Annie Jenness-Miller was a strong advocate for “Rational Dress” for women, and, with her sister, Mabel Jenness, wrote and published her own magazine, called Dress, probably beginning in 1887. [The title and dating of early issues was erratic, but I am assuming that, since Volume 4 began with January of 1890, Volume 2, January-February dates to 1888. The masthead of Volume II offered “the entire first volume of Dress, thirteen numbers” for seventy-five cents plus postage. By January 0f 1890, the dating clearly was established, and most pages were numbered.]

Several years ago, I was selling a bound volume of Jenness-Miller’s Dress for a friend. It included January-February of “Volume II,” and January through June of of Volume IV. At the time I had no idea of blogging, so I did not label my photos with year, month and page number. I just tried to photograph “selling points.”

Recently a scholar tracked me down and asked for more specific information. When I checked my photo files, I realized that, because I had photographed all the Tables of Contents, I could reconstruct Volume numbers, pages and dates for many items.

As often happens with the internet — at least to me — I find something online, and then discover, months or years later, that I can’t get the same search results a second time. I thought that this underwear article by Annie Jenness-Miller had been posted online in its entirety — but now I can’t find it, so, for the benefit of scholars, I’m reprinting it. And, since WordPress seems to lose files bigger than 500 dpi on the longest side after I post them, I have reprinted the text and pictures from those two pages shown at the top of this post, but broken them up into legible segments.

Here is the article “Underwear for Women,” from The Jenness-Miller Magazine Dress, Vol. II, Jan-Feb, (probably 1888,) pp. 181-82. [Added 8/19/16: You can also find the article, in full page photos that can be enlarged to readable scale, at witness2fashion.com. ]

500 text first para and union suit 1988 Vol II p 181

Jenness-Miller Union Suit, from Underwear for Women, Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine.

Jenness-Miller Union Suit, from Underwear for Women, Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine,, p. 181.

500 test chemilette over union suit prob 1888 Vol II p 181 underwear Img_9588

Jenness-Miller Chemilette, from Underwear for Women, Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine.

Jenness-Miller Chemilette, from “Underwear for Women,” Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine, p.181.

500 text legelettes only prob 1888 Vol II p 181 underwear Img_9588

 

Jenness-Miller Turkish Leglettes, or Divided Petticoat, from Underwear for Women, Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine.

Jenness-Miller Turkish Leglettes, or Divided Petticoat, from Underwear for Women, Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine, p. 182.

500 text bodice only prob 1888 Vol II p 181 underwear Img_9588

Jenness-Miller Model Bodice, from Underwear for Women, Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine.

Jenness-Miller Model Bodice, from “Underwear for Women,” Jan-Feb 1888 Dress Magazine, p. 182. A slightly different model bodice appears here.

500 text from 181 bottom to 182 top 1888 Vol II

500 text chemilette prob 1888 Vol II p 182 underwear Img_9589

500 text turkish leglettes 1888 Vol II p 182

500 w model bodice text prob 1888 Vol II p 182 underwear Img_9589

500 text all garments togetherprob 1888 Vol II p 182 underwear Img_9589

Last paragraphs of Underwear for Women article, Dress. p 182.

Last paragraphs of “Underwear for Women” article, Dress, page 182.

[I don’t know how a woman wearing a “Union Suit,” under a “Chemilette,” under “Turkish Leglettes,” manages to go to the bathroom. Journalistic standards of the day may have prevented discussing this. In a different article [March 1890, page 136] Jenness-Miller felt the need to remind her readers that many women “would be shocked to use the strong, refined, and proper term, leg” so explaining the convenience of drop flaps and buttoned crotches may have been impossible. The Jenness-Miller garments do not appear to be crotchless, as many ladies’ bloomers were.]

Annie-Jenness Miller wrote frequent editorials in Dress, extolling her patterns and expounding her theories. She believed that women needed to exercise to develop graceful, healthy bodies that would not need the support of corsets, and her magazine published regular articles on “Physical Culture.”

A typical illustration from Jenness-Miller's articles on Physical Culture for women. Circa 1888-1890

A typical illustration from Jenness-Miller’s articles on Physical Culture for women. Dress, circa 1888-1890.

“By freeing and bringing into action the muscles at the waist renewed life is given to all bodily functions.”

She also realized that most women would like to wear comfortable and practical clothing, but without looking noticeably out of fashion, so many of her patterns look very similar to chic clothing of the day.  This is “the Helene” (her dress patterns were often given names, rather than numbers, like couture.)

Although part of the Rational Dress movement, "The Helene" costume even had a vestigial bustle. From Jenness-Miller's Dress magazine, Jan. 1890, p. 41.

Although part of the Rational Dress movement, “The Helene” costume even had a vestigial bustle. From Jenness-Miller’s Dress magazine, Jan. 1890, p. 41.

Miller did not want her customers to be ridiculed, as women who wore 1850’s “Bloomer” clothing had been. Jenness-Miller’s followers wore her petticoat replacement, “Turkish leglettes,” under their dress — invisibly — rather than wearing a divided dress — except for really strenuous sports, like mountain climbing. Below, Jenness-Miller “Outing Costumes” from April 1890 are — from left to right — “For Geologists and Mountain Climbing,” “Riding Habit,” “Yachting,” and “Lawn Tennis.”

Jenness-Miller costumer for Mountain climbing, riding, yachting, and lawn tennis, from Dress, April 1890.

Jenness-Miller costumer for Mountain climbing, riding, yachting, and lawn tennis, from Dress, April 1890.

I’ll publish another of her complete articles later, but for now, if you want to know more about Annie Jenness-Miller and Dress, I recommend these sites:

Annie Jenness Miller: Dress Reform, from Dress, 1888

Dress Improvement, by Mrs. Jenness Miller, in A Celebration of Women Writers

Aesthetic Dress (for an overview of 19th century dress reform movements, with a useful bibliography)

and, of course, The Vintage Traveler’s post about Mrs. Jenness-Miller, where you will see bigger images and more quotations.

Incidentally, one reason it’s hard to find articles about Jenness-Miller online is that hyphen! Search both with and without it.

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Queen Maud’s Tiny Waist

Maud, Queen of Denmark, in her Coronation regalian, 1906. Photo from National Library of Norway, via Wikipedia.

Maud, Queen of Denmark, in her coronation regalia, 1906. Photo from National Library of Norway, via Wikipedia.

Was anyone’s waist really that tiny? When I see photographs of Victorian-era celebrities with “impossibly” tiny corseted waists, I usually assume — and can sometimes tell — that the photos have been doctored. (Yes, vintage movie studio glamour photos are often visibly altered, too, if you know where to look. Instead of using a computer, photographers used paint.)

But one night this week I happened on two YouTube videos which showed many, many photographs of the English Princess Maud of Wales, later Queen Maud of Norway. She was the daughter of King Edward VII and his beautiful wife, Queen Alexandra, whom she resembles. The videos show many photos of Maud’s exceptionally tiny waist.
Here is Princess Maud with her husband Carl, later King Haakon.

Queen Maud and King Haakon of Norway. She is dressed for cycling.

Queen Maud and King Haakon of Norway. They are dressed for a day in the country. 1890’s.

It’s tempting to think the photograph has been altered, but . . . .

This video shows them riding bicycles; she seems to be wearing the same jacket. (If the video goes too fast for you to see the outfit, you can pause it and back it up.)

Here, they are riding horseback.

The link will continue to the end of the video, but I recommend starting at the beginning of the five minute video photo compilation by Lost Splendour , which is my favorite, showing a wonderful range of fashions; Princess Maude was born in 1869, so she was a teen in the 1880’s, married in the 1890’s, became a mother in 1903, and remained chic and up-to-date in middle age. And there are too many images to deny that her corseted waist really was that small.

Maude lived till 1938; I wonder whether she felt annoyance or relief at the fashions of the 1920’s? Here she is in the 1920’s. (There is a second picture of her, a few seconds later, in a striped twenties dress, with her dog on her lap.)

A second video compilation about Princess Maud, with some different images (but not such a clear look at her fashions,)  by adena539, can be found here.

 

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