Kathleen Marple Kalb's Blog, page 12
May 31, 2023
ALL LACED UP
We can argue all day about women’s place in society, but in one key respect, our lives are better than they’ve been in several hundred years: we don’t have to wear corsets.
(Note that I said HAVE to wear – if you corset by choice, it’s your business…and your ribcage!)
Corsets have been around in some form since at least the Minoan era. If you’re a museum buff, you’ve probably seen the figures of women laced into topless corsets and waving snakes. Those were probably ceremonial; neither the getup nor the snakes were especially practical for daily wear.
What we would recognize as modern corsets emerged in the 16th and 17th centuries as “bodies” or “stays,” a stiffened bodice that could be laced in to shape a woman’s body into the currently fashionable form. From that point, while the names might change, and the style certainly did, the corset was a standard part of a woman’s wardrobe.
At different times, the corset became longer or shorter, closed at the front, sides, or back, and fastened with anything from laces to hooks and eyes. Straps also went in and out of style. Materials changed, too. There’s a sketch from the 1500s of a truly frightening all-steel model Catherine de’Medici brought to France. Once the whaling industry took off, whalebone stays became standard for centuries, only to give way to steel again once most of the world lost its taste for slaughtering those magnificent mammals.
Since the corset was, to use a modern term, the main foundation garment, it evolved to suit the fashionable silhouette. For most of the 18th century corsets looked pretty much the same: a bodice with straps that ends with a tiny waist, often laced up the back, but sometimes at the front or sides. And then, at the end, when the French Revolution overturned everything, the old corset went the way of the ancient regime.
While some women did indeed run around in little more than linen shifts for a few years after that, most still wanted some kind of structure underneath, and that sensibility very quickly won. By the 1810s, many were wearing a light corset-y thing that stopped below the very high waist, much like a modern bustier.
From that point, the corset just grew.
During the mid-century hoopskirt era (another post for another day!) corsets were designed to create a tiny waist in the middle of all that crinoline. Then, as the “princess line” came in, the skirt moved back into the bustle, and the corset grew longer to smooth the hips. By the 1890s, corsets were a bit shorter and simpler.
And then things got weird.
Edwardian corsetieres (yep, the actual name for people who make corsets!) came up with a “spoon busk” that flattened the abdomen and sent the back into a popular “S-bend” look. Fortunately for everyone’s spine, that didn’t last. In the 1910s, corsets were heading back into the long, smooth look…and then all hell broke loose.
Literally.
World War I found women working in hospitals, munitions factories, and more…and corsets got in the way. Most of the time. Some observers, and even some women, saw their corsets as a kind of armor, protecting them from various outrages.
After the war, though, armor or not, corsets were just one more piece of the former world that went to the scrap heap. And when the flappers got a bit older and decided they needed more foundation, the (marginally more comfortable!) bra and girdle were waiting for them.
Corsets didn’t quite disappear, though. They’re still a popular part of many evening gowns…and other kinds of nightwear that are none of my business!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
(Note that I said HAVE to wear – if you corset by choice, it’s your business…and your ribcage!)
Corsets have been around in some form since at least the Minoan era. If you’re a museum buff, you’ve probably seen the figures of women laced into topless corsets and waving snakes. Those were probably ceremonial; neither the getup nor the snakes were especially practical for daily wear.
What we would recognize as modern corsets emerged in the 16th and 17th centuries as “bodies” or “stays,” a stiffened bodice that could be laced in to shape a woman’s body into the currently fashionable form. From that point, while the names might change, and the style certainly did, the corset was a standard part of a woman’s wardrobe.
At different times, the corset became longer or shorter, closed at the front, sides, or back, and fastened with anything from laces to hooks and eyes. Straps also went in and out of style. Materials changed, too. There’s a sketch from the 1500s of a truly frightening all-steel model Catherine de’Medici brought to France. Once the whaling industry took off, whalebone stays became standard for centuries, only to give way to steel again once most of the world lost its taste for slaughtering those magnificent mammals.
Since the corset was, to use a modern term, the main foundation garment, it evolved to suit the fashionable silhouette. For most of the 18th century corsets looked pretty much the same: a bodice with straps that ends with a tiny waist, often laced up the back, but sometimes at the front or sides. And then, at the end, when the French Revolution overturned everything, the old corset went the way of the ancient regime.
While some women did indeed run around in little more than linen shifts for a few years after that, most still wanted some kind of structure underneath, and that sensibility very quickly won. By the 1810s, many were wearing a light corset-y thing that stopped below the very high waist, much like a modern bustier.
From that point, the corset just grew.
During the mid-century hoopskirt era (another post for another day!) corsets were designed to create a tiny waist in the middle of all that crinoline. Then, as the “princess line” came in, the skirt moved back into the bustle, and the corset grew longer to smooth the hips. By the 1890s, corsets were a bit shorter and simpler.
And then things got weird.
Edwardian corsetieres (yep, the actual name for people who make corsets!) came up with a “spoon busk” that flattened the abdomen and sent the back into a popular “S-bend” look. Fortunately for everyone’s spine, that didn’t last. In the 1910s, corsets were heading back into the long, smooth look…and then all hell broke loose.
Literally.
World War I found women working in hospitals, munitions factories, and more…and corsets got in the way. Most of the time. Some observers, and even some women, saw their corsets as a kind of armor, protecting them from various outrages.
After the war, though, armor or not, corsets were just one more piece of the former world that went to the scrap heap. And when the flappers got a bit older and decided they needed more foundation, the (marginally more comfortable!) bra and girdle were waiting for them.
Corsets didn’t quite disappear, though. They’re still a popular part of many evening gowns…and other kinds of nightwear that are none of my business!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
May 24, 2023
THROWBACK SHADES
Imagine summer without sunglasses.
Cute ones are a major pleasure of the season for many people (me!) and for most folks who drive or spend any length of time outdoors, they’re essential.
In the late 19th century, though, they weren’t nearly as common as they are now.
Sunglasses have existed for centuries; historians cite Nero watching gladiators through emeralds, ancient Chinese quartz lenses and even Inuit spectacles made of bone with tiny slits to cut snow glare. And they were certainly around in the Gilded Age.
Teddy Roosevelt had a pair with yellow lenses that he wore for hunting. There were also ones with green and blue lenses for people with various conditions. Usually, they were the little wire-rimmed styles we associate with the fashions of the time. Sometimes, they still show up in online auctions – and people snap them right up.
Still, they hadn’t yet caught on for ladies.
Even though Ella and her velocipede buddy Hetty could definitely benefit from a good pair of shades, they probably didn’t wear them. Sunglasses just weren’t part of the women’s sports costumes of the time. The only time you see a woman with glasses is when she’s holding an opera lorgnette.
(The old saw about men not making passes at girls in glasses came later…but might well be part of it!)
Shades didn’t really become part of the cool girl’s outfit until the 1920s, when movie stars started wearing them for protection from the California sun, and quickly discovered they were good for so much more. Soon, everyone wanted that look, and sunglasses were everywhere.
Not our 19th century ladies, though. They fended off the sun the same way that their mothers and grandmothers had: a nice big straw hat. The straw hat, sometimes with a veil, was every lady’s first and best protection from the sun.
Every lady – and just about everyone else’s, too! Straw hats of varying descriptions appear on people from farmers to fashion plates throughout the 19th century and before. Before reliable sunscreen, and wide use of sunglasses, putting a breathable layer of straw – and maybe an extra layer of thin fabric – between you and the sun was as good as it would get.
Not to say that our ladies didn’t have a few innovations at their disposal. One fashion plate from the 1890s shows a lady cyclist wearing a hat that has a long bill like a baseball cap. It’s still a ladylike straw hat – complete with a sweet little bow – but it offers some extra protection from the glare.
Why not? If it’s good enough for the boys of summer, it’s good enough for the women on wheels.
If you weren’t on wheels, you also had another option: a parasol. In just about every fashion illustration for an outdoor costume, the lady is holding a matching one. Women of means probably did splash out for the matchy-matchy. Most ladies, though, were likely happy to have one or two, usually white or pastel, to push back the heat as well as the light.
Parasols and hats are both excellent additions to the beach bag, even today. But sorry not sorry, this is one time I’m not tempted to give up my modern conveniences. I’ll be the one under the Jackie shades!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Cute ones are a major pleasure of the season for many people (me!) and for most folks who drive or spend any length of time outdoors, they’re essential.
In the late 19th century, though, they weren’t nearly as common as they are now.
Sunglasses have existed for centuries; historians cite Nero watching gladiators through emeralds, ancient Chinese quartz lenses and even Inuit spectacles made of bone with tiny slits to cut snow glare. And they were certainly around in the Gilded Age.
Teddy Roosevelt had a pair with yellow lenses that he wore for hunting. There were also ones with green and blue lenses for people with various conditions. Usually, they were the little wire-rimmed styles we associate with the fashions of the time. Sometimes, they still show up in online auctions – and people snap them right up.
Still, they hadn’t yet caught on for ladies.
Even though Ella and her velocipede buddy Hetty could definitely benefit from a good pair of shades, they probably didn’t wear them. Sunglasses just weren’t part of the women’s sports costumes of the time. The only time you see a woman with glasses is when she’s holding an opera lorgnette.
(The old saw about men not making passes at girls in glasses came later…but might well be part of it!)
Shades didn’t really become part of the cool girl’s outfit until the 1920s, when movie stars started wearing them for protection from the California sun, and quickly discovered they were good for so much more. Soon, everyone wanted that look, and sunglasses were everywhere.
Not our 19th century ladies, though. They fended off the sun the same way that their mothers and grandmothers had: a nice big straw hat. The straw hat, sometimes with a veil, was every lady’s first and best protection from the sun.
Every lady – and just about everyone else’s, too! Straw hats of varying descriptions appear on people from farmers to fashion plates throughout the 19th century and before. Before reliable sunscreen, and wide use of sunglasses, putting a breathable layer of straw – and maybe an extra layer of thin fabric – between you and the sun was as good as it would get.
Not to say that our ladies didn’t have a few innovations at their disposal. One fashion plate from the 1890s shows a lady cyclist wearing a hat that has a long bill like a baseball cap. It’s still a ladylike straw hat – complete with a sweet little bow – but it offers some extra protection from the glare.
Why not? If it’s good enough for the boys of summer, it’s good enough for the women on wheels.
If you weren’t on wheels, you also had another option: a parasol. In just about every fashion illustration for an outdoor costume, the lady is holding a matching one. Women of means probably did splash out for the matchy-matchy. Most ladies, though, were likely happy to have one or two, usually white or pastel, to push back the heat as well as the light.
Parasols and hats are both excellent additions to the beach bag, even today. But sorry not sorry, this is one time I’m not tempted to give up my modern conveniences. I’ll be the one under the Jackie shades!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
May 17, 2023
OUT FOR A STROLL
Summer walk season is upon us (despite allergies) with all the freedom and fun it brings…and we’re not the first people to make the most of warm and pretty days.
Courting and potentially courting, couples in the 19th century, for example, got plenty of mileage out of those leaf-lined paths.
In a world where young men and women, never mind single adults, lead independent and lightly-chaperoned lives, it’s hard to imagine why walking in the park was such a popular courtship option. Yes, walking and talking are fun, and scenery, of the natural and human variety are always good things…but…meh.
Not meh, though, in 1899, when a nice young lady would never have been alone with a man who was not her blood relative. And even her fiancé would have counted himself lucky to be allowed a chaste kiss in the foyer with a protective parent spying through the pocket door!
For people who had very few chances to get to know each other as humans, never mind potential partners, a walk in the park was a great way to start.
A lady could take her swain’s arm in full propriety and converse about all manner of things without some interfering relative making sure they kept topics to improving books, classical music and recent sermons. Her escort might actually express, and defend, interesting opinions he would not dare offer under watchful eyes in her parlor. Not to mention, she might stumble on an uneven paving stone and require a hand to hold – or even, perhaps, an arm around the waist, though that would not be permitted for more than a fleeting instant.
And all of it without the least danger to her reputation – or her gentleman’s standing with her family – because of course, they were simply walking in a public place.
The very public nature of such an outing also served as a bit of a declaration as well. Consenting to be seen walking-out with someone meant that you considered them at least a potential suitor. And the neighbors would make assumptions if they saw you more than once or twice with the same person, whatever your intent.
All of that is in play whenever Ella Shane and her Duke go walking in Washington Square Park. It starts the very first time, in A FATAL FINALE, when they’re allegedly just acquaintances working a case. Ella, if not a celebrity by modern standards, is certainly known in the City, and when she’s seen with this dapper British fellow, the gossips immediately wonder if there’s a courtship underway.
Soon enough, there is.
While Ella and Gil have some unusual habits for courting couples – they fence together! – those walks are the main sign of their public courtship. We see them strolling and talking frequently, often about the case at hand, but just as often about each other.
Everyone else sees them, too, providing that public declaration of intent implied by frequent walks.
And, just in case you’re wondering, there are many more walks ahead…some of them in the days before their marriage. (It’s not a spoiler – A FATAL RECEPTION is the wedding book, coming April 2024 from Level Best Books!)
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
Courting and potentially courting, couples in the 19th century, for example, got plenty of mileage out of those leaf-lined paths.
In a world where young men and women, never mind single adults, lead independent and lightly-chaperoned lives, it’s hard to imagine why walking in the park was such a popular courtship option. Yes, walking and talking are fun, and scenery, of the natural and human variety are always good things…but…meh.
Not meh, though, in 1899, when a nice young lady would never have been alone with a man who was not her blood relative. And even her fiancé would have counted himself lucky to be allowed a chaste kiss in the foyer with a protective parent spying through the pocket door!
For people who had very few chances to get to know each other as humans, never mind potential partners, a walk in the park was a great way to start.
A lady could take her swain’s arm in full propriety and converse about all manner of things without some interfering relative making sure they kept topics to improving books, classical music and recent sermons. Her escort might actually express, and defend, interesting opinions he would not dare offer under watchful eyes in her parlor. Not to mention, she might stumble on an uneven paving stone and require a hand to hold – or even, perhaps, an arm around the waist, though that would not be permitted for more than a fleeting instant.
And all of it without the least danger to her reputation – or her gentleman’s standing with her family – because of course, they were simply walking in a public place.
The very public nature of such an outing also served as a bit of a declaration as well. Consenting to be seen walking-out with someone meant that you considered them at least a potential suitor. And the neighbors would make assumptions if they saw you more than once or twice with the same person, whatever your intent.
All of that is in play whenever Ella Shane and her Duke go walking in Washington Square Park. It starts the very first time, in A FATAL FINALE, when they’re allegedly just acquaintances working a case. Ella, if not a celebrity by modern standards, is certainly known in the City, and when she’s seen with this dapper British fellow, the gossips immediately wonder if there’s a courtship underway.
Soon enough, there is.
While Ella and Gil have some unusual habits for courting couples – they fence together! – those walks are the main sign of their public courtship. We see them strolling and talking frequently, often about the case at hand, but just as often about each other.
Everyone else sees them, too, providing that public declaration of intent implied by frequent walks.
And, just in case you’re wondering, there are many more walks ahead…some of them in the days before their marriage. (It’s not a spoiler – A FATAL RECEPTION is the wedding book, coming April 2024 from Level Best Books!)
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
May 10, 2023
DON'T MESS WITH MAMA
Fight like a mother.
You’ve probably seen the t-shirts – and may even own one. (Mine says “Tough Like A Mother.”)
The idea of the feisty mama fighting for her family wasn’t even a gleam in Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s eye in the 19th century…but even then, a mother was allowed to do otherwise unacceptable things to protect her children.
In a time when women and their children were the legal property of their men, there was only one scenario when a woman was allowed – and sometimes even encouraged – to exercise real economic or social power: as a widowed mother. As the protector of her children, a woman might be allowed to run her, and their, affairs in ways that she would never be permitted to when a man was around.
Not that she wasn’t still on a leash. Usually, there was some male relative floating around to “watch over” mom, because she was still a woman, after all.
Even so, motherhood was one of the few areas where a 19th century woman got the benefit of the doubt. She was assumed to be acting in the interests of her children, unless she proved herself to be an “unnatural mother” in some way, which usually required a good bit of effort.
Motherhood didn’t just confer economic strength, either.
Sometimes it meant superhuman strength in a more literal way.
Women were allowed to step away from the hearth for a bit and protect their children more directly if there was a serious threat. Sensational, and much enjoyed, stories of brave pioneer women who scared off grizzly bears, colonial goodwives who saved their crops from the Redcoats, or just a lady who pulled her toddler out of the path of a runaway grocery wagon, were all a far cry from the Angel in the House.
But they all ended the same way. Mama plays the heroine and wards off the threat…and then hugs her cherubs, picks up her embroidery and returns to her spot by the fire. People – especially male people – were just barely comfortable with the idea that a woman might occasionally have to do something un-womanly in the defense of her family…but not with the idea that she would make a regular thing of it.
They didn’t call her the Avenging Angel in the House, after all!
No, they called her “Mother, Queen of Home.” That’s a real 19th century song, with a hearts-and-flowers picture of a lovely woman cuddling an infant and another adorable -- clean and non-cranky -- child gazing at her in awe. The Queen of Home might take up arms to defend her castle, but no one’s going to talk about that unless they have to!
Still, women were very well aware of who and what they were; more than a few referred to themselves as lionesses defending their cubs when they had to take some action on their children’s behalf. But they also knew that they’d have a much better chance of ensuring happy lives for themselves – and their children – by playing the Queen of Home right up to the moment the lioness had to take over.
Tough like a mother, indeed!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
You’ve probably seen the t-shirts – and may even own one. (Mine says “Tough Like A Mother.”)
The idea of the feisty mama fighting for her family wasn’t even a gleam in Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s eye in the 19th century…but even then, a mother was allowed to do otherwise unacceptable things to protect her children.
In a time when women and their children were the legal property of their men, there was only one scenario when a woman was allowed – and sometimes even encouraged – to exercise real economic or social power: as a widowed mother. As the protector of her children, a woman might be allowed to run her, and their, affairs in ways that she would never be permitted to when a man was around.
Not that she wasn’t still on a leash. Usually, there was some male relative floating around to “watch over” mom, because she was still a woman, after all.
Even so, motherhood was one of the few areas where a 19th century woman got the benefit of the doubt. She was assumed to be acting in the interests of her children, unless she proved herself to be an “unnatural mother” in some way, which usually required a good bit of effort.
Motherhood didn’t just confer economic strength, either.
Sometimes it meant superhuman strength in a more literal way.
Women were allowed to step away from the hearth for a bit and protect their children more directly if there was a serious threat. Sensational, and much enjoyed, stories of brave pioneer women who scared off grizzly bears, colonial goodwives who saved their crops from the Redcoats, or just a lady who pulled her toddler out of the path of a runaway grocery wagon, were all a far cry from the Angel in the House.
But they all ended the same way. Mama plays the heroine and wards off the threat…and then hugs her cherubs, picks up her embroidery and returns to her spot by the fire. People – especially male people – were just barely comfortable with the idea that a woman might occasionally have to do something un-womanly in the defense of her family…but not with the idea that she would make a regular thing of it.
They didn’t call her the Avenging Angel in the House, after all!
No, they called her “Mother, Queen of Home.” That’s a real 19th century song, with a hearts-and-flowers picture of a lovely woman cuddling an infant and another adorable -- clean and non-cranky -- child gazing at her in awe. The Queen of Home might take up arms to defend her castle, but no one’s going to talk about that unless they have to!
Still, women were very well aware of who and what they were; more than a few referred to themselves as lionesses defending their cubs when they had to take some action on their children’s behalf. But they also knew that they’d have a much better chance of ensuring happy lives for themselves – and their children – by playing the Queen of Home right up to the moment the lioness had to take over.
Tough like a mother, indeed!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
May 3, 2023
PUT A CROWN ON IT
The British have been crowning kings and queens for more than a thousand years, and they’ve got it down to a routine.
King Charles has made a great big deal of how he’s trying to modernize the ceremony and make it more reflective of the current world, and that’s certainly his prerogative (like what I did there?) but this is still an ancient ceremony. And it’s still based on a medieval – or earlier – view of the world and leaders.
You can get the political and cultural argument somewhere else. Let’s just agree that there’s a lot going on here that is inappropriate, uncomfortable, or just plain weird in any other context and move on.
So, for the non-history nerds among us, a quick hit on the highlights.
Most of what you’ll see, live and on video afterward, will be a lot of driving and walking around. Since the ancient Egyptian pharaohs, kings have understood that showing yourself to the adoring populace is a key part of the job. That means fancy processions. If you watched any of the ceremonies for the late Queen, it will look a lot like that, without the touches of black mourning.
We know King Charles has planned a shorter procession route and asked many participants to wear business suits instead of the velvet and ermine robes of coronations past. That means there’ll be a lot less glitter and freaky outfits than usual, which will disappoint some royal watchers. He and his Queen, Camilla, will still ride in a special coach from the 18th century, surrounded by plenty of ceremonial guards on horseback, so we’ll at least get that.
Once the King and his court assemble at Westminster Abbey (itself over a thousand years old!) the driving around will be replaced by walking around. The King and the Queen, with their retinue – a fancy word for fancily dressed folks – will proceed into the sanctuary, to be met by Church of England clergy in full vestments.
At this point, it becomes a religious service. King Charles has talked about making it an ecumenical event, and we may well see clergy from other faiths. But the Coronation was originally intended as a way of consecrating a monarch and marking him or her off as God’s chosen leader. Most of what you’ll see – or not see – in the ceremony itself stems from that.
So there will be plenty of prayers for the King, the Queen and their reign, as well as for Britain itself. There will also be an anointing ceremony, the actual religious moment of using holy oil to consecrate the King and Queen as sovereigns.
For centuries, the anointing was considered the most sacred and important moment of a coronation, even more than the crowning. Even in 1953, Queen Elizabeth II considered it such an important private religious ceremony that it was the only part of her service not televised.
Eventually, we’ll get to the actual coronation, when the king will bow before the Archbishop of Canterbury and the prelate will put the crown on his head. That’s the way it’s done in most Western monarchies…but it’s not the only possibility. The first French emperor Napoleon crowned himself, and Russian tsars did the same.
Once crowned, the sovereigns get all kinds of stuff. The king gets a gold orb, rod, and scepter, the queen a couple of scepters, all priceless, hundreds of years old and laden with symbolism.
Until now, the next step was the homage. All the nobles would come kneel before the King and pledge loyalty. Think King Arthur’s Court. King Charles apparently plans more of a virtual homage, with the folks at home chanting along. Okay.
And then?
You guessed it, more walking and driving around now that everyone is official.
A lot of it looks and sounds silly to us in the 21st century. But remember, for most of the last thousand years, people were perfectly willing to kill and die over this. And thousands, maybe millions, actually did.
There’s a lot going on under all that glitter.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the Comments!
King Charles has made a great big deal of how he’s trying to modernize the ceremony and make it more reflective of the current world, and that’s certainly his prerogative (like what I did there?) but this is still an ancient ceremony. And it’s still based on a medieval – or earlier – view of the world and leaders.
You can get the political and cultural argument somewhere else. Let’s just agree that there’s a lot going on here that is inappropriate, uncomfortable, or just plain weird in any other context and move on.
So, for the non-history nerds among us, a quick hit on the highlights.
Most of what you’ll see, live and on video afterward, will be a lot of driving and walking around. Since the ancient Egyptian pharaohs, kings have understood that showing yourself to the adoring populace is a key part of the job. That means fancy processions. If you watched any of the ceremonies for the late Queen, it will look a lot like that, without the touches of black mourning.
We know King Charles has planned a shorter procession route and asked many participants to wear business suits instead of the velvet and ermine robes of coronations past. That means there’ll be a lot less glitter and freaky outfits than usual, which will disappoint some royal watchers. He and his Queen, Camilla, will still ride in a special coach from the 18th century, surrounded by plenty of ceremonial guards on horseback, so we’ll at least get that.
Once the King and his court assemble at Westminster Abbey (itself over a thousand years old!) the driving around will be replaced by walking around. The King and the Queen, with their retinue – a fancy word for fancily dressed folks – will proceed into the sanctuary, to be met by Church of England clergy in full vestments.
At this point, it becomes a religious service. King Charles has talked about making it an ecumenical event, and we may well see clergy from other faiths. But the Coronation was originally intended as a way of consecrating a monarch and marking him or her off as God’s chosen leader. Most of what you’ll see – or not see – in the ceremony itself stems from that.
So there will be plenty of prayers for the King, the Queen and their reign, as well as for Britain itself. There will also be an anointing ceremony, the actual religious moment of using holy oil to consecrate the King and Queen as sovereigns.
For centuries, the anointing was considered the most sacred and important moment of a coronation, even more than the crowning. Even in 1953, Queen Elizabeth II considered it such an important private religious ceremony that it was the only part of her service not televised.
Eventually, we’ll get to the actual coronation, when the king will bow before the Archbishop of Canterbury and the prelate will put the crown on his head. That’s the way it’s done in most Western monarchies…but it’s not the only possibility. The first French emperor Napoleon crowned himself, and Russian tsars did the same.
Once crowned, the sovereigns get all kinds of stuff. The king gets a gold orb, rod, and scepter, the queen a couple of scepters, all priceless, hundreds of years old and laden with symbolism.
Until now, the next step was the homage. All the nobles would come kneel before the King and pledge loyalty. Think King Arthur’s Court. King Charles apparently plans more of a virtual homage, with the folks at home chanting along. Okay.
And then?
You guessed it, more walking and driving around now that everyone is official.
A lot of it looks and sounds silly to us in the 21st century. But remember, for most of the last thousand years, people were perfectly willing to kill and die over this. And thousands, maybe millions, actually did.
There’s a lot going on under all that glitter.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the Comments!
April 26, 2023
NOT SO BASIC BLACK
What color does Jane Eyre wear through most of the book? What color did Laura Ingalls Wilder wear for her wedding? What did Queen Victoria wear for most of her life?
The last one, of course, gives away the game.
Black.
By the Victorian era, it was well-known as the color of mourning for Western societies, but it was also a serviceable basic for many women, bereaved or not.
Black didn’t start out as basic, though.
In the Renaissance, there was black, and Burgundian black.
From a sheer technical standpoint, black cloth is tough to make. Before aniline dyes (we’ll get there in a moment!) shades of brown, yellow, and orange were fairly simple, with things like walnut shells and onion husks. Madder reds and indigo, or woad, blues were also possible, if more expensive or difficult to find.
But true black was hard.
True black that looked good was even harder.
Black became a very popular color in the early-modern period, across class lines, and there were some relatively cheap ways to make it. The problem was, they involved metal salts or other mordants that weakened the fabric, or created a rusty tone, or both.
Enter Burgundian black. The famous dye-masters there came up with an elaborate process for producing black cloth with a gorgeous deep blue undertone. Since it required two steps – an initial blue dye of indigo or woad, and then a red dye with a special mordant – it was so expensive that only the richest could afford it. It was also immediately recognizable as special, so it’s no surprise that you see a fair number of people in deep, rich, black outfits in portraits from the time period.
That’s pretty much how matters stayed with black until the invention of aniline dyes in the mid-19th century. Just as they changed everything with bright colors like purples and blues that still shimmer today, so did they upend the game with black.
Within a few years of the first aniline mauve, chemists had come up with a fast, true-black dye. Affordable enough for a governess, and deep enough for a queen.
As black fabric became widely available at an affordable price, more and more women realized just how useful it was to have a plain black dress. Poorer people had always known that dark clothes were easier to maintain than light, and more unobtrusive, when that mattered. But until aniline dye, those humble garments had been dark brown.
An important note here: before the Industrial Revolution, many people, even relatively prosperous ones, had only a few outfits. A woman might well have a couple of daily dresses, an old one for dirty housework, and a “best dress” for church.
Governesses like Jane Eyre had to look respectable and unobtrusive at all times, and simple black dresses were perfect for the task. Not to mention far easier to maintain than a lighter color that might show stains or wear.
Laura Ingalls Wilder’s black wedding dress is more in the line of the “best dress.” Well into the 20th century, women kept one nice dress for important events – and a well-made black dress fit that bill perfectly.
Even now, professional women (and men, too!) keep a black interview suit for occasions when they need to dress to impress…I know I do!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
The last one, of course, gives away the game.
Black.
By the Victorian era, it was well-known as the color of mourning for Western societies, but it was also a serviceable basic for many women, bereaved or not.
Black didn’t start out as basic, though.
In the Renaissance, there was black, and Burgundian black.
From a sheer technical standpoint, black cloth is tough to make. Before aniline dyes (we’ll get there in a moment!) shades of brown, yellow, and orange were fairly simple, with things like walnut shells and onion husks. Madder reds and indigo, or woad, blues were also possible, if more expensive or difficult to find.
But true black was hard.
True black that looked good was even harder.
Black became a very popular color in the early-modern period, across class lines, and there were some relatively cheap ways to make it. The problem was, they involved metal salts or other mordants that weakened the fabric, or created a rusty tone, or both.
Enter Burgundian black. The famous dye-masters there came up with an elaborate process for producing black cloth with a gorgeous deep blue undertone. Since it required two steps – an initial blue dye of indigo or woad, and then a red dye with a special mordant – it was so expensive that only the richest could afford it. It was also immediately recognizable as special, so it’s no surprise that you see a fair number of people in deep, rich, black outfits in portraits from the time period.
That’s pretty much how matters stayed with black until the invention of aniline dyes in the mid-19th century. Just as they changed everything with bright colors like purples and blues that still shimmer today, so did they upend the game with black.
Within a few years of the first aniline mauve, chemists had come up with a fast, true-black dye. Affordable enough for a governess, and deep enough for a queen.
As black fabric became widely available at an affordable price, more and more women realized just how useful it was to have a plain black dress. Poorer people had always known that dark clothes were easier to maintain than light, and more unobtrusive, when that mattered. But until aniline dye, those humble garments had been dark brown.
An important note here: before the Industrial Revolution, many people, even relatively prosperous ones, had only a few outfits. A woman might well have a couple of daily dresses, an old one for dirty housework, and a “best dress” for church.
Governesses like Jane Eyre had to look respectable and unobtrusive at all times, and simple black dresses were perfect for the task. Not to mention far easier to maintain than a lighter color that might show stains or wear.
Laura Ingalls Wilder’s black wedding dress is more in the line of the “best dress.” Well into the 20th century, women kept one nice dress for important events – and a well-made black dress fit that bill perfectly.
Even now, professional women (and men, too!) keep a black interview suit for occasions when they need to dress to impress…I know I do!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
April 19, 2023
THE COLOR OF QUEENS
Purple was always a tough color to wear. Unless you’re a royal.
Not tough in the sense of how it looks on you, although color experts will tell you it is difficult to find the right undertone.
Tough in this sense: until the last couple of centuries, almost nobody could afford the dyes.
There’s a lot going on with purple.
It all started in Tyre.
The Phoenicians found out that the ink from a particular kind of shellfish could be used to color cloth a vivid purple shade, which became known as Tyrian purple. That was the good part. But it was quite a task to make. One ancient source says it took ten thousand mollusks just to get enough dye for the hem of a garment. Another says a pound of purple-dyed wool was worth a pound of gold.
No surprise, then, that for most of history, it was a color for elites and royals: Roman generals at their triumph, Byzantine Emperors, medieval queens and kings. Only a very small number of people could afford purple robes, and depending on where you were, an even smaller number could be allowed to wear it.
For hundreds of years, there were “sumptuary laws,” restrictions on what sort of people could wear some kinds of finery. Even if you somehow made enough money to buy a purple robe, you probably couldn’t wear it.
Tyrian purple was special, but – as anyone who knows the color wheel can guess -- there were other ways to get purple, especially once indigo became more available. Cloth could be dyed twice: first blue, then red or vice versa. But that didn’t mean it was cheap and easy: double the dye meant double the cost.
So, for centuries, purple was rare, special, and very expensive.
Until the Industrial Revolution.
In 1856, a British student named William Henry Perkin was looking for a way to make quinine, the desperately-needed malaria treatment, when he stumbled on a brilliant purple dye.
Soon, aniline dyes, with vivid shades of purple and mauve, were everywhere.
In the 1860s, both Queen Victoria and Empress Eugenie of France wore it for important occasions. But unlike the earlier royal purples, this one was affordable, so women could run right out and get something in the same shade as their monarch.
And they did.
It wasn’t just clothes.
Much like the earlier vogue for the (potentially deadly) arsenic green, aniline purples were soon everywhere and in everything. Unlike arsenic green, they weren’t flagrantly dangerous, and there are no lurid tales of poor clothing factory workers suffering horrific, and vividly purple, deaths.
They still weren’t great; later research would associate the dyes with cancer, and they were ultimately mostly banned from food use. But they were also associated with treating illnesses. Artificial dyes made by Perkin helped with the Nobel Prize-winning discovery of the tuberculosis bacillus in 1908.
By then, though, fashion had moved on.
Edwardian ladies preferred sweet pastels like lilac and eau de nil, the barely-green shade named for the waters of the Nile.
Well, except for one very important occasion.
When Edward VII and his queen Alexandra were crowned, they were swathed in, what else, yards upon yards of purple velvet.
The more things change…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Not tough in the sense of how it looks on you, although color experts will tell you it is difficult to find the right undertone.
Tough in this sense: until the last couple of centuries, almost nobody could afford the dyes.
There’s a lot going on with purple.
It all started in Tyre.
The Phoenicians found out that the ink from a particular kind of shellfish could be used to color cloth a vivid purple shade, which became known as Tyrian purple. That was the good part. But it was quite a task to make. One ancient source says it took ten thousand mollusks just to get enough dye for the hem of a garment. Another says a pound of purple-dyed wool was worth a pound of gold.
No surprise, then, that for most of history, it was a color for elites and royals: Roman generals at their triumph, Byzantine Emperors, medieval queens and kings. Only a very small number of people could afford purple robes, and depending on where you were, an even smaller number could be allowed to wear it.
For hundreds of years, there were “sumptuary laws,” restrictions on what sort of people could wear some kinds of finery. Even if you somehow made enough money to buy a purple robe, you probably couldn’t wear it.
Tyrian purple was special, but – as anyone who knows the color wheel can guess -- there were other ways to get purple, especially once indigo became more available. Cloth could be dyed twice: first blue, then red or vice versa. But that didn’t mean it was cheap and easy: double the dye meant double the cost.
So, for centuries, purple was rare, special, and very expensive.
Until the Industrial Revolution.
In 1856, a British student named William Henry Perkin was looking for a way to make quinine, the desperately-needed malaria treatment, when he stumbled on a brilliant purple dye.
Soon, aniline dyes, with vivid shades of purple and mauve, were everywhere.
In the 1860s, both Queen Victoria and Empress Eugenie of France wore it for important occasions. But unlike the earlier royal purples, this one was affordable, so women could run right out and get something in the same shade as their monarch.
And they did.
It wasn’t just clothes.
Much like the earlier vogue for the (potentially deadly) arsenic green, aniline purples were soon everywhere and in everything. Unlike arsenic green, they weren’t flagrantly dangerous, and there are no lurid tales of poor clothing factory workers suffering horrific, and vividly purple, deaths.
They still weren’t great; later research would associate the dyes with cancer, and they were ultimately mostly banned from food use. But they were also associated with treating illnesses. Artificial dyes made by Perkin helped with the Nobel Prize-winning discovery of the tuberculosis bacillus in 1908.
By then, though, fashion had moved on.
Edwardian ladies preferred sweet pastels like lilac and eau de nil, the barely-green shade named for the waters of the Nile.
Well, except for one very important occasion.
When Edward VII and his queen Alexandra were crowned, they were swathed in, what else, yards upon yards of purple velvet.
The more things change…
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
April 12, 2023
PRETTY DEADLY
Ever wear something itchy or uncomfortable because you liked the color?
Same here.
But we wouldn’t wear something that could kill us. (I hope!)
That’s exactly what a lot of people did in the 19th century, though, when emerald or arsenic green was big.
“Arsenic green” wasn’t just a fun moniker. It was a green dye literally loaded with arsenic, and it was absolutely everywhere for much of the Victorian Era. Invented in 1775 by Carl Wilhelm Scheele, and perfected by the 1810s, it produced an amazingly bright green at a reasonable price.
For almost everyone, it was a revelation.
We don’t really think about clothing dyes now, but for most of human history, most clothes were the muddy shades of common natural dyes. There was a lot of brown, yellow, and dull red. If you could afford woad, or especially indigo, you might get some nice blues.
Green and purple were tough, though. Purple is another post for another day, but the best way to get green was to dye something yellow and then blue. Dicey – and very expensive.
And at the end of the day, none of it was bright in the eye-watering way of arsenic green.
It’s no wonder that folks went a little nuts over it, with green dresses, candles, wallpaper and toys – and even fancy desserts.
There was just that one small problem: arsenic.
Soon enough, people started getting sick.
Ugly sick.
We don’t need to do a deep dive, but let’s just say there were skin problems, gastrointestinal distress, and other unpleasantness that sometimes proved fatal. Sometimes it was a slow, painful poisoning. Sometimes it was faster, like the holiday party full of kids who became ill from the arsenic vapors in green candles.
And if you think it was bad for the people who wore it or used it, imagine what it was like for the folks who worked with stuff. We don’t have to imagine, because one of them, Matilda Scheuer, absorbed so much of it from tinting flowers for women’s hair decorations that she died horribly in 1861, her eyeballs and fingernails literally poison green.
In a time before any kind of product regulation, all of this went on for much longer than it should have. Poor Matilda had been gone for forty years before the U.S. passed its first Pure Food and Drug Act.
Public opinion, fortunately, began to turn before that. The lurid newspaper coverage of dress and wallpaper poisoning cases, not to mention Matilda’s grisly end, eventually made people start looking differently at those green dresses and wallpaper.
By that point, though, there was so much of the stuff around that it couldn’t just disappear. That it didn’t just disappear.
To this day, there are green books, toys, and especially pieces of clothing in museum collections that require special handling. Vintage clothing collectors are warned not to wear anything green from the 19th century until they have it tested for arsenic.
What’s truly wild about this is that the things still look so good.
While most natural, and some chemical, dyes fade with time, many arsenic green pieces are still every bit as eye-poppingly bright as they were on the day somebody first risked her life by wearing them. There are good scientific reasons for that…but it’s also just a little bit eerie: a dress that will kill you, but won’t die.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Same here.
But we wouldn’t wear something that could kill us. (I hope!)
That’s exactly what a lot of people did in the 19th century, though, when emerald or arsenic green was big.
“Arsenic green” wasn’t just a fun moniker. It was a green dye literally loaded with arsenic, and it was absolutely everywhere for much of the Victorian Era. Invented in 1775 by Carl Wilhelm Scheele, and perfected by the 1810s, it produced an amazingly bright green at a reasonable price.
For almost everyone, it was a revelation.
We don’t really think about clothing dyes now, but for most of human history, most clothes were the muddy shades of common natural dyes. There was a lot of brown, yellow, and dull red. If you could afford woad, or especially indigo, you might get some nice blues.
Green and purple were tough, though. Purple is another post for another day, but the best way to get green was to dye something yellow and then blue. Dicey – and very expensive.
And at the end of the day, none of it was bright in the eye-watering way of arsenic green.
It’s no wonder that folks went a little nuts over it, with green dresses, candles, wallpaper and toys – and even fancy desserts.
There was just that one small problem: arsenic.
Soon enough, people started getting sick.
Ugly sick.
We don’t need to do a deep dive, but let’s just say there were skin problems, gastrointestinal distress, and other unpleasantness that sometimes proved fatal. Sometimes it was a slow, painful poisoning. Sometimes it was faster, like the holiday party full of kids who became ill from the arsenic vapors in green candles.
And if you think it was bad for the people who wore it or used it, imagine what it was like for the folks who worked with stuff. We don’t have to imagine, because one of them, Matilda Scheuer, absorbed so much of it from tinting flowers for women’s hair decorations that she died horribly in 1861, her eyeballs and fingernails literally poison green.
In a time before any kind of product regulation, all of this went on for much longer than it should have. Poor Matilda had been gone for forty years before the U.S. passed its first Pure Food and Drug Act.
Public opinion, fortunately, began to turn before that. The lurid newspaper coverage of dress and wallpaper poisoning cases, not to mention Matilda’s grisly end, eventually made people start looking differently at those green dresses and wallpaper.
By that point, though, there was so much of the stuff around that it couldn’t just disappear. That it didn’t just disappear.
To this day, there are green books, toys, and especially pieces of clothing in museum collections that require special handling. Vintage clothing collectors are warned not to wear anything green from the 19th century until they have it tested for arsenic.
What’s truly wild about this is that the things still look so good.
While most natural, and some chemical, dyes fade with time, many arsenic green pieces are still every bit as eye-poppingly bright as they were on the day somebody first risked her life by wearing them. There are good scientific reasons for that…but it’s also just a little bit eerie: a dress that will kill you, but won’t die.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
April 5, 2023
BONNETS ON!
Whatever spring holiday you’re observing (if any!), they mean different things to different people. But there’s one thing New Yorkers can agree on: Easter also means the Parade on Fifth Avenue.
No one seems to have an exact date for the first time some fashionable lady New Yorkers put on pretty hats and went for a promenade outside their church, but it apparently grew out of an earlier tradition. Many of the biggest and most socially prominent churches in town would put up extravagant floral decorations for Easter, and eventually, folks would walk from their own building to the next, to see what the other faithful had done.
It’s only a short step (sorry!) from there to an official promenade.
By the 1890s, it wasn’t just for fun or showing off. It was a big economic engine for the City’s fashion industry too. Even as the ladies strolled through the finer areas of town, department stores, milliners and more would show off their nicest spring wares.
If you’re getting a Fashion Week vibe, I won’t argue!
In the early 19th century, Easter was primarily a religious holiday, marked with joyful – but relatively quiet – family and church celebrations. (So was Passover – a whole different post!) But with the help of the New York Easter Parade and similar events, it became a key date on the shopping calendar, as the point where everyone wanted to show off their spring fashions. Shopkeepers and the new, growing department stores were more than happy to oblige.
While we associate the Irving Berlin song with the event, it was very much a late add: the song was part of a 1933 Broadway revue and was later used in the famous scene in the movie Meet Me in Saint Louis featuring Judy Garland and Fred Astaire. If you’ve seen the film, it’s no accident that they’re wearing 1890s clothes; yes, the film is set in that time period, but that never stopped a Hollywood costumer who wanted to make a point. The Easter Parade outfits are a deliberate celebration of the event’s heyday.
Even today, the parade is very similar to the earlier versions. It’s not an organized march like many other New York celebrations, but rather just a chance for people to put on their goofy hats and wander around on Fifth Avenue, which is closed near St. Patrick’s Cathedral. For a lot of New Yorkers, it’s just fun to come out and watch the scene.
Of course, during Covid, the scene was online. The Easter Parade, like so many other big New York traditions, kept the party going virtually.
As for Ella Shane, even though she’s a proud New Yorker, and generally throws herself into every City celebration with glee, she’s probably not going to be found wandering down Fifth Avenue in a fancy bonnet. She and her cousin Tommy might well go out to have a look – and Ella would definitely enjoy seeing all the new fashions for spring. But Ella gets quite enough attention onstage, and has no need to seek out any more.
Besides, her reporter friend Hetty MacNaughten would never forgive her for celebrating hats!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
No one seems to have an exact date for the first time some fashionable lady New Yorkers put on pretty hats and went for a promenade outside their church, but it apparently grew out of an earlier tradition. Many of the biggest and most socially prominent churches in town would put up extravagant floral decorations for Easter, and eventually, folks would walk from their own building to the next, to see what the other faithful had done.
It’s only a short step (sorry!) from there to an official promenade.
By the 1890s, it wasn’t just for fun or showing off. It was a big economic engine for the City’s fashion industry too. Even as the ladies strolled through the finer areas of town, department stores, milliners and more would show off their nicest spring wares.
If you’re getting a Fashion Week vibe, I won’t argue!
In the early 19th century, Easter was primarily a religious holiday, marked with joyful – but relatively quiet – family and church celebrations. (So was Passover – a whole different post!) But with the help of the New York Easter Parade and similar events, it became a key date on the shopping calendar, as the point where everyone wanted to show off their spring fashions. Shopkeepers and the new, growing department stores were more than happy to oblige.
While we associate the Irving Berlin song with the event, it was very much a late add: the song was part of a 1933 Broadway revue and was later used in the famous scene in the movie Meet Me in Saint Louis featuring Judy Garland and Fred Astaire. If you’ve seen the film, it’s no accident that they’re wearing 1890s clothes; yes, the film is set in that time period, but that never stopped a Hollywood costumer who wanted to make a point. The Easter Parade outfits are a deliberate celebration of the event’s heyday.
Even today, the parade is very similar to the earlier versions. It’s not an organized march like many other New York celebrations, but rather just a chance for people to put on their goofy hats and wander around on Fifth Avenue, which is closed near St. Patrick’s Cathedral. For a lot of New Yorkers, it’s just fun to come out and watch the scene.
Of course, during Covid, the scene was online. The Easter Parade, like so many other big New York traditions, kept the party going virtually.
As for Ella Shane, even though she’s a proud New Yorker, and generally throws herself into every City celebration with glee, she’s probably not going to be found wandering down Fifth Avenue in a fancy bonnet. She and her cousin Tommy might well go out to have a look – and Ella would definitely enjoy seeing all the new fashions for spring. But Ella gets quite enough attention onstage, and has no need to seek out any more.
Besides, her reporter friend Hetty MacNaughten would never forgive her for celebrating hats!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
March 29, 2023
IS IT WINE O'CLOCK YET
Modern moms (and dads) joke about making it to wine o’clock for their “medicine” at the end of a long day. And plenty of doctors encourage, or at least don’t DIS-courage their patients from enjoying a nice glass of red most days because of the heart health benefits.
In 2023, we have many better things to do than judge someone for low-level drinking.
A century or so ago, it was much different. When Ella Shane pours herself a “medicinal sherry” at the end of a trying day, it could be a statement of fact…or it could be something else entirely. In 1899, alcohol still had many verified medical applications, from disinfectant to the base for any number of tinctures and tonics. Some of those tonics were still on sale, quite legitimately, well into the 20th century. My grandmother always told the tale of sniffing her aunt’s bottle of “Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Tonic” and nearly falling over at the reek of alcohol.
Drinking for relaxation or – gasp – pleasure, though, was a whole different ballgame, and not one that a nice lady, especially one like our exceedingly respectable Ella would admit to playing. By the late 1800s, the temperance movement was beginning to gain steam, and there were any number of (mostly female) people inveighing against the evils of Demon Rum. Interestingly, these folks seemed to be much more upset by the drinking habits of say, the Irish immigrant community than by those of WASP men at their political meetings. And of course Ella, being half Irish, is very sensitive to those cultural perceptions.
So while she might well enjoy a small portion of appropriate wines with dinner on the rare occasions she attends society parties, Ella would certainly never admit that she actually enjoys a small (or, depending on the degree of difficulty of the day – not so small!) glass of sherry of an evening. Instead, she phrases it as a medicinal item, necessary for health and well-being.
Other ladies often adopt the same formulation, whether it’s describing an after dinner cordial as a digestive (a word still in use in some languages), or simply explaining that they need a drop of brandy to encourage sleep. It’s all careful and polite cover, because a lady would never admit that she actually takes pleasure in a drink. If she admitted taking pleasure in alcohol, who knows what else she might take pleasure in?
Ella is certainly aware that people would be thinking exactly that of her.
Despite all of the negative stereotypes and prejudices driving the conversation, though, there IS something to be said for the idea of that medicinal glass. That, after all, one has no need to feel guilty or ashamed of enjoying (in moderation) a good drink at the end of the day, but that it is, in fact, a positive for one’s health.
One more reason to toast to wine o’clock!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
In 2023, we have many better things to do than judge someone for low-level drinking.
A century or so ago, it was much different. When Ella Shane pours herself a “medicinal sherry” at the end of a trying day, it could be a statement of fact…or it could be something else entirely. In 1899, alcohol still had many verified medical applications, from disinfectant to the base for any number of tinctures and tonics. Some of those tonics were still on sale, quite legitimately, well into the 20th century. My grandmother always told the tale of sniffing her aunt’s bottle of “Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Tonic” and nearly falling over at the reek of alcohol.
Drinking for relaxation or – gasp – pleasure, though, was a whole different ballgame, and not one that a nice lady, especially one like our exceedingly respectable Ella would admit to playing. By the late 1800s, the temperance movement was beginning to gain steam, and there were any number of (mostly female) people inveighing against the evils of Demon Rum. Interestingly, these folks seemed to be much more upset by the drinking habits of say, the Irish immigrant community than by those of WASP men at their political meetings. And of course Ella, being half Irish, is very sensitive to those cultural perceptions.
So while she might well enjoy a small portion of appropriate wines with dinner on the rare occasions she attends society parties, Ella would certainly never admit that she actually enjoys a small (or, depending on the degree of difficulty of the day – not so small!) glass of sherry of an evening. Instead, she phrases it as a medicinal item, necessary for health and well-being.
Other ladies often adopt the same formulation, whether it’s describing an after dinner cordial as a digestive (a word still in use in some languages), or simply explaining that they need a drop of brandy to encourage sleep. It’s all careful and polite cover, because a lady would never admit that she actually takes pleasure in a drink. If she admitted taking pleasure in alcohol, who knows what else she might take pleasure in?
Ella is certainly aware that people would be thinking exactly that of her.
Despite all of the negative stereotypes and prejudices driving the conversation, though, there IS something to be said for the idea of that medicinal glass. That, after all, one has no need to feel guilty or ashamed of enjoying (in moderation) a good drink at the end of the day, but that it is, in fact, a positive for one’s health.
One more reason to toast to wine o’clock!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
