Part 18
Not a few of _Punch's_ old social butts and pet aversions disappear at the end of the century--including the old "'Arry." One of 'Arry's last efforts was to rejoice over the defeat of women at Oxford, and another was to describe how he was teaching his "best girl" how to pedal. The "Twelve Labours of 'Arry," as depicted by Phil May in the Almanack for 1896, in which he is seen on the rink, the river, hunting, shooting, driving tandem, boxing, playing cricket, golfing, bicycling, etc., introduce a new type indistinguishable from the "new rich" in dress and deportment. The new type of tourist depicted in 1912 lacks the exuberance of the old, and his _nil admirari_ attitude is attributed to the "educative" influence of the "pictures."
FASHION IN DRESS
From the very earliest times the evolution of dress has been governed by two contending principles--Protection and Decoration; and the student of "primitive culture" will find these principles asserting themselves even in our own highly sophisticated times. One need not be an expert in psycho-analysis to trace in modern fashions the survival of the primitive instinct of decoration or the conflict between the irrational and the rational selves which is writ large in the annals of Mode. Profoundly conscious of my own incompetence to deal adequately with this fascinating and momentous subject, I nevertheless venture to submit that Laxity is the outstanding feature or "note" of the period now under review. It is an ambiguous term, but none the less suitable on that account, for laxity in its original sense implies a looseness which conduces to comfort, while, in its later and ethical use, it stands for irregularity, extravagance and eccentricity. Both meanings are richly exemplified in the fashions which prevailed in the years 1892-1914; but it must be admitted that, on the score of a wise laxity, man was more "rational" than woman in endeavouring to reconcile the claims of comfort and adornment. Women's dress is far more various, interesting, amusing and even exciting, but on the principle that one should keep one's cake for the end, I prefer to begin with the mere bread-and-butter of male costume. _Punch_, as my readers may remember, had in his earlier days inveighed against the rigidity and discomfort of men's dress, the tyranny of the top-hat and the strangulation of tight-fitting collars. In middle age, we find him more of a stickler for propriety of costume. Thus in 1893 he describes, with affected amazement, the strange garb adopted by fashionable young men for their morning exercise in the Park between nine and eleven--a straw hat worn on the back of the head, an unbuttoned coat, no waistcoat and flannel trousers. Simultaneously one of his artists depicts the strange and casual attire of M.P.s in the House of Commons in August--tweeds and knickerbockers, sombreros, caps, and even blazers. Yet, with an inconsistency which did credit to his humane instincts, _Punch_, at the close of the same year, assails the high stiff collar worn by young men of fashion and refrains, in 1894, from any serious comment on an article in the _Scotsman_ on the laxity of costume characteristic of modern Oxford. "Straw hats and brown boots appear to abound everywhere," while "bowlers" were gradually discarded. When the centenary of the top-hat arrived in 1897, _Punch_ suggested that its abolition would be a suitable way of celebrating the year of Jubilee. But the "top-hat" had its defenders as well as detractors, and the "pros" and "cons" of the correspondence in _The Times_ are admirably summed up in _Punch's_ article:--
It would be advisable, or inadvisable, as the case may be, to abolish It in the Jubilee Year.
Because all the scarecrows in the country are already fitted.
Because It is the hall-mark of human dignity, and, combined with a smile, is sufficient by Itself, without any other costume, to stamp the wearer as one of Nature's Noblemen, whether he be a Missing Link or a King of the Cannibal Islands.
Because It is indispensable, as part of the stock-in-trade of conjurers, for the production of live rabbits, pots of flowers, interminable knotted handkerchiefs, and other useful and necessary articles.
Because no Harrow boy is happy till he gets It.
Because It is a decided protection in a street fight, or when you fall out hunting or coming home late from the Club.
Because It only needs to be carefully sat on to make an excellent and noiseless substitute for the concertina.
Because no self-respecting Guy, Bridegroom, or 'Bus-driver is ever seen without one.
Because It is a very effective counterpart of the Matinée hat at Lord's, and similar gatherings.
Because, to be at all in the fashion, and to look decently dressed, you require a fresh one every day. This is good for the trade.
Because It stimulates the manufacture of umbrellas, eye-glasses, hansom-cabs, frock-coats, hair-restorers, and forcible language.
Because no one has yet ventured to wear It on the all-prevalent bicycle.
Because no statue has ever had the face to sport It, with very few deplorable exceptions.
Because It is really the most becoming headgear hitherto devised.
Because It is really the most unbecoming headgear hitherto devised.
Because, after a hundred years, it is time we had a change.
Because, when a thing has been running for a century, it is a pity to abolish It.
Because, if It is abolished, the custom of raising It to ladies will perish as well, and there will follow the Extinction of Manners for Men, the Decadence of Church Parade, the General Cutting of Acquaintances, the re-introduction of Thumb-biting, Nose-pulling, Duelling, and Civil War, the disappearance of Great Britain as a first-class Power, the establishment of a Reign of Terror, and much inconvenience.
Because I have recently purchased an Extra Special Loyal and Up-to-Date Jubilee Tile, which I hope to wave, throw up, and generally smash and sacrifice on the Great Occasion.
But that is not another story.
[Sidenote: _Fashions in Hats_]
_Punch_ had already referred to Its disuse on the cricket field. The mention of statues in top-hats is not an effort of imagination: Dr. Grigor, to whom Nairn owes so much of its popularity as a health resort, is thus attired in the stone effigy of him which stands in the centre of the town. The tall hat, though now seldom seen except at weddings and funerals, has survived its centenary; but new fashions in headgear date from 1897, when _Punch's_ "Stifled Stockbroker" rejoices, when the thermometer stood at ninety in the shade, in the relief afforded by his Panama and Pyjamas.
The appearance of the Homburg Hat is chronicled in 1900, but not in a complimentary manner. "Bertie's new hat," according to a satirical young lady, "looks as though somebody had begun excavating to find his brains, and had given it up in despair." There was another heat wave this year, and _Punch_ notices that straw hats were worn at Sandown, while the horses in Paris were "wearing straw bonnets to protect them from the heat," a practice adopted in subsequent years in London. The "boom" in sandals in 1901 belongs more to Hygiene than to Fashion, but, if _Punch_ is to be believed, it was not confined to health cranks and children; and in the Sapphic stanza of Canning's "Needy Knife-grinder" he gives voice to the indignant protest of the London shoeblack. Another sartorial centenary, that of trousers, fell in the year 1902, but _Punch's_ appeal to the poets to celebrate it in song remained unanswered. Meanwhile a young peer was credited by a society journal with the intention of forming a League in order to differentiate men's evening dress from that of a waiter, but _Punch_ failed to see in the venture any sign of _noblesse oblige_. By 1902 the Panama Hat had been vulgarized by 'Appy 'Arry; and a year later _Punch_ speaks of "the late Panamania." It had gone out of fashion in New York, being superseded by the ordinary stiff straw hat, and _Punch_ anticipated that the "slump" would also cross the Atlantic.
[Illustration: FOND WIFE: "What do you think of Bertie's new hat, dear?"
HER CANDID SISTER: "Well, dear, I think it looks as though somebody had begun excavating to find his brains, and had given it up in despair."]
[Sidenote: _Novelties v. Revivals_]
There is one grand distinction between men and women in regard to dress. Women (or those who dictate their fashions) are divided between novelties and revivals, and the revivals are generally of the most outrageous absurdities. It is otherwise with the simple male. He deals far less in revivals, and when he hits upon a good novelty he generally sticks to it. In this category I would unhesitatingly include the brown boot, to which _Punch_ devoted the following instructive article, modelled on the style of the _Daily Mail_, in the year 1903:--
THE CULT OF THE BROWN BOOT
No serious student of dermatology can have avoided noticing the enormous increase in the use of brown boots in the last quarter of a century. In 1879 a clubman would no more have thought of walking down Pall Mall in brown boots than of flying. But now even archdeacons frequent the Athenæum Club in that ubiquitous footwear.
Necessity is probably the mother of invention, as Lord Avebury has pointedly remarked, and the introduction of the brown boot is due, according to a well-known Bond Street maker, to the exigencies of a retired General, who, finding it difficult to get his boots adequately blacked at his chambers, suggested, as a solution of his embarrassment, that it might be possible to devise a form of boot in which blacking could be entirely dispensed with. The example at once provoked imitation, and now it is estimated by Dr. Nicholson Roberts in the _Bootman_ that in London alone 1,250,000 pairs of tawny-coloured footgear are sold in the year.
Boots, it may not be generally known, are made from the hides of various animals, terrestrial and marine. The skin is removed after the animal has been slaughtered, not before, and is then subjected to a variety of preliminary processes of a mollifying character, of which the most important is that of tanning. Tan, or tannin, as it is more correctly called, is a substance of a friable texture and a highly pronounced but hygienic odour. It is principally found in Indian tea, whence it is extracted by machinery especially designed for the purpose, and stored in tanyards. It is also occasionally used to deaden the sound of traffic and provide equestrians with a substratum calculated to minimize the wear and tear of their horses' hoofs. Dogs of certain breeds are also technically described as being "black and tan."
The process of bootmaking, of which the headquarters is at Northampton, will be familiar to all who have attended the performances of Wagner's opera _Die Meistersinger_. It involves the use of powerful cutting instruments, cobbler's wax, needles, thread, and other implements, and the principal terms in its somewhat extensive terminology are vamp, welt, upper leathers, and nether sole. Bootmakers, like tailors, commonly sit cross-legged at their work, and hold pronounced political views; hence the term freebooter. But it has been noted that the makers of brown boots incline to Liberal Unionism. Their patron saint is Giordano Bruno, and in theology they affect latitudinarianism.
The term "brown boots," it should also be noted, is a misnomer, as it includes shades of yellow, orange, and russet. Army men affect the latter, while stockbrokers and solicitors prefer the former.
In conclusion it may be worth while to record certain established rules, the disregard of which may have untoward consequences. Black laces do not harmonize well with brown boots, nor is it _de rigueur_ to wear them with a frock-coat, or when in evening or court dress.
[Illustration: THE SEX QUESTION
(A study in Bond Street)]
The information here imparted must be accepted with certain reserves, and the same remark holds good of _Punch's_ picture of Church Parade in 1906, where hatless "nuts" smoking pipes, wearing Panama hats, knickerbockers and even dressing-gowns, are shown mingling with more correctly attired pedestrians. But, allowing for exaggeration, the picture reflects a real tendency--towards greater comfort and less convention in dress. The "nut" depicted in 1907 wears a coat with a pronounced waist, and highly coloured hose, but in 1910 _Punch_ descants lyrically on the announcement, made by the _Daily Express_, that "the reign of the passionate sock is over," though a man might "still let himself go in handkerchiefs." The poet ironically bewails the fiat which dooms our socks henceforth to silence:--
There is a power, my friends, That disciplines our loud-hued nether ends.
Still, he consoles himself with the reflection that he still can wear his heart "up his sleeve," thus recalling the new definition of a gentleman given some years earlier in suburban circles as one who wore his handkerchief up his cuff.
[Illustration: HOST: "How do you like the course?"
VISITOR: "Well, I don't wish to appear ungrateful, but I should like to lie down!"]
[Sidenote: _Passionate Socks and Knickerbockers_]
Owing to the increasing skimpiness of skirts and the cult of slimness, the approximation of male and female attire reached a point in 1911 which suggested to one of _Punch's_ artists a new Sex Question puzzle. But while the female "nut" was becoming indistinguishable from the male, the male golfer had come to affect a bagginess of knickerbockers recalling the exuberance of the female cyclist of two decades earlier, and, as _Punch_ showed, exceedingly ill-suited for progress in a high wind.
[Illustration:
AGAINST THE WIND WITH THE WIND
Disastrous influence of the sea-breezes on the modern "nut" coiffure. Recently witnessed by our artist at a popular watering-place.]
Throughout this period whiskers remained in disfavour with all men of fashion, though they lingered on among the elderly and the middle-aged. Pianists, artists and literary geniuses still wore their hair long. The value of a beard in correcting an imperfect profile was admirably illustrated in Du Maurier's picture of the complacent Admiral in 1894, and naval officers, then and now, availed themselves of a privilege denied to the other Service, without any loss of trimness and smartness of appearance. The "toothbrush" moustache dates back to pre-War days, and its popularity was not impaired when early in 1914 the General commanding the Prussian Guards Corps forbade its adoption as "not consonant with the German national character." Waxed ends to the moustache were now only worn by policemen, taxi-drivers and Labour leaders. But the outstanding feature of male _coiffure_ during the latter part of this period was the adoption of the practice of liberally oiling or pomading the hair and brushing it right back over the head without any parting. Whence the practice came I do not know, but it became almost universal amongst "nuts," undergraduates and the senior boys at our public schools. _Punch_ did not admire the fashion, but it must have been a gold mine to all dealers in bear's grease, brilliantine, Macassar's "incomparable oil," and all manner of unguents simple or synthetic.
[Sidenote: _Revival of Crinoline Threatened_]
_Punch's_ chronicle of feminine fashion opens in 1893 with the menace of a return of the crinoline, the bare mention of which was enough to upset his equanimity, for his seven years' war against it had by his own admission been more or less of a failure:--
CRINOLINE
Rumour whispers, so we glean From the papers, there have been Thoughts of bringing on the scene This mad, monstrous, metal screen, Hiding woman's graceful mien. Better Jewish gaberdine Than, thus swelled out, satin's sheen! Vilest garment ever seen! Form unknown in things terrene; Even monsters pliocene Were not so ill-shaped, I ween. Women wearing this machine, Were they fat or were they lean-- Small as Wordsworth's celandine, Large as sail that's called lateen-- Simply swept the pavement clean: Hapless man was crushed between Flat as any tinned sardine. Thing to rouse a Bishop's spleen, Make a Canon or a Dean Speak in language not serene. We must all be very green, And our senses not too keen, If we can't say what we mean, Write in paper, magazine, Send petitions to the Queen, Get the House to intervene. Paris fashion's transmarine-- Let us stop by quarantine Catastrophic Crinoline!
[Illustration: FASHION
"Oh, Mummy, have you been vaccinated on _both_ arms?"]
Du Maurier, in a picture which serves as a pendant to one which appeared in November, 1857, contrasts the Misses Roundabout's inflated circumference with the graceful lines of the normal skirt, but the warning was happily unnecessary and the threatened danger never materialized. Another revival, that of the "Coal-scuttle" bonnet, was not nearly so formidable, but it enabled _Punch_ to indulge in a characteristic gibe at the headgear of the "loud Salvation lasses." The mania for expansion had ascended, and the fashion of large puffed sleeves in the same year prompted the criticism of the little girl: "Oh, Mummy, have you been vaccinated on _both_ arms?" For many years huge hats continued to offend _Punch's_ sense of proportion. In 1893 he contrasts the small flat sailor-hat worn at the seaside with the monstrosities in vogue in London, and in 1894 I note the first of his many tirades against the "Matinée Hat." In the 'fifties _Punch_ had derided "Bloomerism"; now he was momentarily converted to the introduction of "rational" dress for women cyclists. Thus in 1894 he defended the innovation with pen and pencil against the protests of Mrs. Grundy, that "great Goose Autocrat, the Palladium of Propriety, the Ægis of social morality," and attacked her inconsistency in banning knickerbockers while she acquiesced in audacious _décolletage_. The lady in knickerbockers portrayed in 1895 is a distinctly attractive figure though she owns that she had adopted them not to ride a bicycle, but because she had got a sewing machine.
[Sidenote: _Matinée Hats and Russian Blouses_]
Hats and balloon sleeves occupy a good deal of notice in 1895 and 1896. In an ingenious parody of Keats's "_La Belle Dame sans Merci_," _Punch_ denounces the use of "mixed plumes" in women's hats, and the poet is left
alone and sadly loitering While the sedge shakes not with the glancing plumes And no birds sing.
The nuisance of the matinée hat had roused the ire of the male playgoer. _Punch_ compared it to the Eiffel Tower and to a Tower of Babel on top of a garden bed. The obstruction in Parliament was nothing to it; and on reading that large theatre hats had been prohibited in Ohio, he was ready to admit that here, at any rate, we might Americanize our modes to good purpose. Floral decorations had reached such a pitch of extravagance as to warrant the remark of the loafer to a lady wearing a huge beflowered hat: "Want a _gardener_, Miss?" Signs of sanity, however, were recognized in the announcement that Parisian _couturières_ had issued a fiat against wasp waists, and were going to take the Venus of Milo henceforth as their model, though _Punch_ was rather sceptical of the results of this bold move, which in his view would cause consternation in the ranks of the fashion-plate designers. The Venus of Milo, by the way, has in 1922 been "turned down" by a fashionable Chicago lady as utterly early Victorian.
Passing over the introduction of the "bolero" coat and the brief revival of the early Victorian bonnet in 1897, we come in 1898 to one of the first instances of the Russian invasion--the appearance of the Russian blouse. _Punch_ describes it as the same back and front, with a kind of ruff below the waist which sticks out stiffly all round. It required four times as much stuff as was necessary, but provided room to stow away a fair-sized sewing machine without detection. The "Medici Collar," another novelty, or revival, of the year, is caricatured in a picture which gives the impression of a "bearded lady"; while the enormously lofty trimmings of hats are reported (on the authority of the _Daily Telegraph_) to have obliged carriage-makers to lower the seats of many closed vehicles. Knickerbockers had already gone out of fashion, even for bicycling, and _Punch_ unchivalrously compares them with the baggy nether-wear of Dutchmen.
Skirts were still worn tight but very long, so long that the shade of Queen Bess is invoked to express her wonder how the modern woman could walk at all, and _Punch_ suggests a new occupation for the London street boys as trainbearers. In 1899 the new colour was "_rouge automobile_," described as _très-chic_ or _teuf-teuf_--the Parisian argot for the noisy motor of the hour.
The _Hairdresser_ announced that "this year hair is to be worn green," but the statement appears to have been premature. _Punch_ again fulminates against the persistent Plumage Scandal--this time in a picture of the "Extinction of Species," typified by a ferocious fashion-plate lady with a plumed hat surrounded by plucked egrets. _A propos_ of headgear, it may be added that in the Coronation year of 1902 _Punch_ issued a Proclamation to all women not to wear large hats at the ceremony and so cause annoyance, vexation, desperation and profanity to sightseers. His Schedule comprises Gainsboroughs, Bergères, Tricornes, Plateaux, Lady Blessington, Rustic, Picture and Matinée hats--a tolerably comprehensive list.
From 1903 onwards large bag-shaped muffs came prominently into view, and _Punch_ ungallantly emphasizes their value as a means of hiding large hands. The outstanding feature of this and the next year is the influence of motoring on dress. Here, according to _Punch_, decoration was entirely sacrificed to comfort: the motorist swathed in furs is compared to the bear, the mountain goat, the chimpanzee and the Skye terrier. In 1904 he notes the universal adoption of the motor-cap, even by those who never owned or rode in a motor-car. For the rest, the "clinging style" of dress, with long skirts and long hanging sleeves, was generally in vogue. Mrs. Roundabout fears that it would make her look "so dreadfully emaciated," but rotundity of figure had ceased to be the rule even with the middle-aged. Fashionable women, apart from their motor costumes, continued to display their wonderful disregard for the rigours of the climate, a trait which is faithfully dealt with in _Punch's_ verses on the "Pneumonia Blouse."
[Sidenote: _Revival of the Directoire Style_]
By 1904 skirts were beginning to be appreciably shortened, but, as a set-off, fashionable women indemnified themselves by the length and expansiveness of their sleeves:--
Her sleeves are made in open bags Like trousers in the Navy; No more she sweeps the streets, but drags Her sleeves across the gravy.
Elaborate bathing dresses, exhibiting a gradual tendency to reduce the amount of material, are henceforth a frequent subject of illustration. In 1905 _Punch's_ fair bathers remain on the shore and never enter the water as it would absolutely spoil their dresses. We hear less of the matinée hat, but the enormous _coiffures_ depicted in 1907 proved hardly less objectionable to those who sat behind them; and as for hats, the more grotesque and absurd they were the stronger was their appeal. The new hats in 1907, with the brim large at the back, have a sort of sou'-wester effect; and the towering monstrosities depicted at the close of the year make "busbys" look small: Mars is eclipsed by Venus. In 1908 _Punch_ chronicles the advent of the latest importation from France, the revived "Directoire" costume as worn at Longchamps:--
Long languid lines unbroken by a frill, Superfluous festoons reduced to nil, A figure like a seal reared up on end And poking forward with a studied bend;
A shortish neck imprisoned in a ruff, Skin-fitting sleeves that show a stint of stuff, A waist promoted halfway up the back, And not a shred that's comfortably slack;
A multitude of buttons, row on row, Not there for business--merely made for show; A skirt whose meagre gores necessitate The waddle of a Chinese lady's gait;