Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/401

 390 ONCE  A WEEK. [Novembs* 5,  1859.

stairs, had  better  put  on  their  boots  on  the ground-floor.

If we  consider  the  female  dress  of  1859  under any of  the  remaining  conditions,  what  can  we  say  of it? Does the  costume,  as  a whole,  follow  the  outline of the  form? Does it  fit  accurately  and  easily? Is the  weight  made  to  hang  from  the  shoulders? Are the  garments  of  to-day  convenient  and  agree- ble in  use? Is the  mode  modest  and  graceful? So far  from  it,  that  all  these  conditions  are  con- spicuously violated by  those  who  think  they  dress well. Here and  there  we  may  meet  a sensible woman, or  a girl  who  has  no  money  to  spend  in new  clothes,  whose  appearance  is  pleasing — in  a straw-bonnet  that  covers  the  head,  in  a neat  gown which hangs  gracefully  and  easily  from  the natural waist,  and  which  does  not  sweep  up  the dirt: but the  spectacle  is  now  rare; for  bad  taste in the  higher  classes  spreads  very  rapidly  down- wards, corrupting the  morals  as  it  goes.

The modem  dress  perverts  the  form  very  dis- agreeably. The evil  still  begins  with  the  stays, in too  many  instances,  though  there  is  less  tight- lacing than  formerly. It is  a pity  that  women  do not  know  how  little  they  gain  by  false  pretences in regard  to  figure  and  complexion. Our grand- mothers would not  have  worn  paint  if  they  had been aware  that  it  is  useless  after  forty  to  attempt  to seem  younger — the  texture  of  the  skin  revealing  at a glance  the  fact  which  paint  and  dyed  hair  cannot conceal; except perhaps  in  the  parks,  or  across  a theatre. In the  same  way,  the  round  waist  pro- duced by tight-lacing  is  always  distinguishable  in a moment  from  the  easy  oval  form  of  the  genuine small waist. Compare the  two  extremes,  and  you will see  it  at  once. Compare the  figure  of  the Graces of  Raflaelle,  or  the  Venus  de  Medici,  with the smallest  and  most  praised  waist  in  a factory, and observe  the  difference. Before the  glass,  the owner of  the  latter  sees  the  smallness  in  front, and fancies  it  beautiful; but  it  is  disgusting  to others. It is  as  stiff  as  the  stem  of  a tree,  and spoils the  form  and  movement  more  than  the armour of  ancient  knights  ever  did; and  we  know what is  going  on  within. The ribs  are  pressed out of  their  places,  down  upon  the  soft  organs within, or  overlapping  one  another: the  heart  is compressed,  so  that  the  circulation  is  irregular: the stomach  and  liver  are  compressed,  so  that  they cannot act  properly: and  then  parts  which  cannot be squeezed  are  thrust  out  of  their  places,  and grave ailments  are  the  consequence. At the  very best, the  complexion  loses  more  than  the  figure can be  supposed  to  gain. It is  painful  to  see  what is endured  by  some  young  women  in  shops  and factories, as  elsewhere. They cannot  stoop  for  two minutes over  their  work  without  gasping  and  being blue, or  red,  or  white  in  the  face. They cannot go up-stairs  without  stopping  to  take  breath  every few steps. Their arms  are  half-numb,  and  their hands red  or  chilblained; and  they  must  walk  as if  they  were  all-of-a-piece,  without  the  benefit  and grace of  joints  in  the  spine  and  limbs. A lady had the  curiosity  to  feel  what  made  a girl  whom she knew  so  like  a wooden  figure,  and  found  a complete  palisade  extending  round  the  body. On her remonstrating,  the  girl  pleaded  that  she  had “only six-and-twenty  whalebones! ”

Any visitor  of  a range  of  factories  will  be  sure to find  that  girls  are  dropping  in  fainting-fits,  here and there,  however  pure  the  air  and  proper  the temperature; and here  and  there  may  be  seen  a vexed  and  disgusted  proprietor,  seeking  the  ware- house-woman, or  some  matron,  to  whom  he  gives a pair of  large  scissors,  with  directions  to  cut  open the stays  of  some  silly  woman  who  had  fainted. Occasional inquests  afford  a direct  warning  of  the fatal effects  which  may  follow  the  practice  of tight-lacing; but  slow  and  painful  disease  is  much more common; and  the  register  exhibits,  not  the stays, but  the  malady  created  by  the  stays  as  the cause of  death. That such  cases  are  common,  any •physician who  practises  among  the  working- classes will  testify.

Do the  petticoats  of  our  time  serve  as  anything but a mask  to  the  human  form — a perversion  of human  proportions? A woman on  a sofa  looks like a child  popping  up  from  a haycock. A girl in the  dance  looks  like  the  Dutch  tumbler  that was a favourite  toy  in  my  infancy. The fit  is  so the  reverse  of  accurate  as  to  be  like  a silly  hoax — a masquerade without  wit: while,  at  the  same time, it  is  not  an  easy  fit. The prodigious  weight of the  modern  petticoat,  and  the  difficulty  of getting  it  all  into  the  waistband,  creates  a necessity for compressing  and  loading  the  waist  in  a way most injurious  to  health. Under a rational  method of dress  the  waist  Bhould  suffer  neither  weight  nor pressure — nothing more  than  the  girdle  which brings the  garment  into  form  and  folds. As to the  convenience  of  the  hooped  skirts,  only  ask  the women themselves,  who  are  always  in  danger from fire,  or  wind,  or  water,  or  carriage-wheels, or rails,  or  pails,  or  nails,  or,  in  short,  everything they encounter. Ask the  husbands,  fathers,  or brothers,  and  hear  how  they  like  being  cut  with the steel  frame  when  they  enter  a gate  with  a lady,  or  being  driven  into  a comer  of  the  pew  at church,  or  to  the  outside  of  the  coach,  for  want  of room. As for  the  children — how  many  have  been swept off  pathways,  or  foot-bridges,  or  steamboat decks by  the  pitiless  crinoline,  or  hoops  of  some unconscious walking  balloon! More children  have been killed,  however,  by  the  extension  of  the absurd petticoat  fashion  to  them. For many months past,  it  has  been  a rare  thing  to  see  a child  under  the  tunic  age  duly  clothed. The petticoats are  merely  for  show; and  the  actual clothing, from  the  waist  downwards,  is  nothing more than  thin  cotton  drawers  and  socks,  leaving a bare space  between. For older  boys  there  is  a great  improvement  in  dress — the  tunic  and  loose trousers being  preferable  in  every  way  to  the  stiff mannish tailed  coat  and  tight  trousers  of  half  a century  ago. But the  younger  children  are  at present  scarcely  clothed  at  all,  below  the  arms; and the  blue  legs  of  childhood  are  a painful  sight, whether in  a beggar  boy  or  a citizen’s  son. Even in such  a climate  as  Sierra  Leone  there  is  some- thing forlorn in  thinking  of  the  lady’s  maid  in  a great  house  wearing  (and  possessing)  nothing  more in the  way  of  clothing  than  a muslin  gown  and  a blue  bead- necklace  (on  an  ebony  throat,  of  course), but in  winters  like  ours  to  see  children’s  legs covered with  nothing  better  than  thin  cotton (thin, because  the  ornamentation  is  the  vanity),  is