Kathleen Marple Kalb's Blog, page 21
September 15, 2021
MY STARS AND GARTERS
These days, if a lady takes the trouble to get into a garter belt, it’s probably with the hope that someone attractive will help her out of it. But until the last century or so, it was just a part of getting dressed.
Women (and men) have been wearing hose, stockings or long socks since some prehistoric person realized that wrapping their feet and legs in cloth was a good way to keep them warm. And they’ve probably been trying to figure out how to keep their socks on from the moment they got them properly wrapped up. Anyone who’s ever tried to walk while wrapped in an afghan can see that coming a mile away.
The first stockings were woven fabric, cut to maximize any give in the weave and sewn to fit the leg. Not exactly comfy or efficient, but it worked well enough. Folks apparently didn’t mind; it took until almost 1600 for knitted stockings to come into wide use. The first knitting machines were invented to make them -- and no wonder!
But even with knit stockings, we still have the problem of how to keep them where they belong. Well into the early 19th century, garters were often the popular choice. They weren't especially reliable -- as an entire literature devoted to ladies dropping them will tell you -- but they were easily available and worked most of the time.
Men and women alike wore garters, sometimes equally decorative and elaborate. Don’t forget that whole period in the late 1600s when the fellas were dripping with lace and ribbons and wearing long, loose wigs that made the ladies look positively severe!
For centuries, garters were the best game in town.
Some people simply rolled the tops of the stockings and hoped for the best, which seems like pretty risky business, but clothing historians agree that this actually did happen. Not with my hose, it wouldn't, but okay.
Eventually, though, the technology did improve. Men came up with all kinds of elaborate and architectural designs for sock suspenders. Women, meanwhile, figured out that they could secure their stockings to their corsets, and that it was both more comfortable, and reliable. As women became more active in the late 19th century, that was important. You don't want to be playing tennis -- or marching for woman suffrage -- and realize that your stockings are heading south!
Elastic fabric was invented by Thomas Hancock in 1820, and that made everything fit and stay in place better. But well into the 20th century, while the configuration might change a bit here and there, women were still wearing stockings secured to a corset or corset equivalent, like a girdle.
It wasn't until the invention of pantyhose in the 1960s that garters and garter belts moved from the practical to the, well, rather naughty. Now pantyhose are also becoming a relic of an earlier time -- and they don't even have cute traditions associated with them. There's no throwing of the bride's pantyhose at the wedding, after all.
Still, for my money, there's still no better way to keep your legs and feet warm on a cold day than a good pair of cotton or wool tights. Elastic, please. No garters!
Got a #Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Women (and men) have been wearing hose, stockings or long socks since some prehistoric person realized that wrapping their feet and legs in cloth was a good way to keep them warm. And they’ve probably been trying to figure out how to keep their socks on from the moment they got them properly wrapped up. Anyone who’s ever tried to walk while wrapped in an afghan can see that coming a mile away.
The first stockings were woven fabric, cut to maximize any give in the weave and sewn to fit the leg. Not exactly comfy or efficient, but it worked well enough. Folks apparently didn’t mind; it took until almost 1600 for knitted stockings to come into wide use. The first knitting machines were invented to make them -- and no wonder!
But even with knit stockings, we still have the problem of how to keep them where they belong. Well into the early 19th century, garters were often the popular choice. They weren't especially reliable -- as an entire literature devoted to ladies dropping them will tell you -- but they were easily available and worked most of the time.
Men and women alike wore garters, sometimes equally decorative and elaborate. Don’t forget that whole period in the late 1600s when the fellas were dripping with lace and ribbons and wearing long, loose wigs that made the ladies look positively severe!
For centuries, garters were the best game in town.
Some people simply rolled the tops of the stockings and hoped for the best, which seems like pretty risky business, but clothing historians agree that this actually did happen. Not with my hose, it wouldn't, but okay.
Eventually, though, the technology did improve. Men came up with all kinds of elaborate and architectural designs for sock suspenders. Women, meanwhile, figured out that they could secure their stockings to their corsets, and that it was both more comfortable, and reliable. As women became more active in the late 19th century, that was important. You don't want to be playing tennis -- or marching for woman suffrage -- and realize that your stockings are heading south!
Elastic fabric was invented by Thomas Hancock in 1820, and that made everything fit and stay in place better. But well into the 20th century, while the configuration might change a bit here and there, women were still wearing stockings secured to a corset or corset equivalent, like a girdle.
It wasn't until the invention of pantyhose in the 1960s that garters and garter belts moved from the practical to the, well, rather naughty. Now pantyhose are also becoming a relic of an earlier time -- and they don't even have cute traditions associated with them. There's no throwing of the bride's pantyhose at the wedding, after all.
Still, for my money, there's still no better way to keep your legs and feet warm on a cold day than a good pair of cotton or wool tights. Elastic, please. No garters!
Got a #Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
September 9, 2021
A SWEET NEW YEAR
L’Shana Tovah!
Since the 1650s, Jews have been sharing that Rosh Hashanah greeting in New York, and celebrating the holiest time of their calendar.
It means “for a good year,” and – at least in my corner of the world – it’s a great way to greet friends and family who celebrate the High Holy Days.
The eight-day period begins with a celebration and ends in solemn reflection, with plenty of traditions along the way. If you’ve been doing something for five thousand years (Happy 5782!) you come up with plenty of good ways to celebrate.
Family meals (usually dinner) are a big part of this holiday, as for most Jewish celebrations. This time, there will almost certainly be honey and apples in some form; they symbolize a sweet New Year, so they’re a prominent part of the meal. Some people just dip apples in the honey – while others like apple cakes, pies and other treats. Or all of the above!
It’s also the time to bring out old traditional foods you don’t see the rest of the year. That’s how I ended up eating gefiltefish at my first Rosh Hashanah dinner with my husband’s relatives. Apparently, in the right hands, it’s sort of like a salmon croquette. This particular version, though, was both sweet and crunchy – and after the meal, my husband told me that nobody but one very elderly relative actually eats it!
I got points for being a good sport, at least.
As well as the private family events, there are religious services throughout the eight days – more services for the more observant, of course. Another popular observance is “Taslich,” the washing away of sins: people go to a lake or river and thrown in stones or bread to symbolize spiritual cleansing. In some parts of New York, people have seen their neighbors doing that for decades – or even centuries.
New York has had organized Jewish congregations since 1680 – and by the early 1800s, there were several large and visible groups. For a long time, though, the services were held in the style of the first group who arrived: Sephardic (Spanish and Middle Eastern) Jews, despite the fact that most of the congregants were Eastern European Ashkenazi Jews.
Whatever kind of service they went to, the congregation probably looked pretty sharp. New clothes for a new year are part of many families’ tradition, much as Christians buy new outfits for Easter. Dressing up for an important holiday is a pretty common human impulse, after all.
The High Holy Days end with Yom Kippur, a solemn day of religious atonement and reflection. Even less-observant families (mine!) will often take the day off work and disconnect from social media so they can spend the time fasting, contemplating, and making things right for the next year.
That’s not just getting right in the religious sense -- it’s also about getting right with the people around you. If you’ve wronged anyone, you’re expected to do your best to fix it.
By the way, if you’re wondering what to say to a friend who’s marking Yom Kippur, it’s better to wish them “a blessed atonement” than to wish them a happy one. It shows understanding and support on what is a very solemn day…and isn’t that exactly what a true friend wants to do?
Got a #Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
Since the 1650s, Jews have been sharing that Rosh Hashanah greeting in New York, and celebrating the holiest time of their calendar.
It means “for a good year,” and – at least in my corner of the world – it’s a great way to greet friends and family who celebrate the High Holy Days.
The eight-day period begins with a celebration and ends in solemn reflection, with plenty of traditions along the way. If you’ve been doing something for five thousand years (Happy 5782!) you come up with plenty of good ways to celebrate.
Family meals (usually dinner) are a big part of this holiday, as for most Jewish celebrations. This time, there will almost certainly be honey and apples in some form; they symbolize a sweet New Year, so they’re a prominent part of the meal. Some people just dip apples in the honey – while others like apple cakes, pies and other treats. Or all of the above!
It’s also the time to bring out old traditional foods you don’t see the rest of the year. That’s how I ended up eating gefiltefish at my first Rosh Hashanah dinner with my husband’s relatives. Apparently, in the right hands, it’s sort of like a salmon croquette. This particular version, though, was both sweet and crunchy – and after the meal, my husband told me that nobody but one very elderly relative actually eats it!
I got points for being a good sport, at least.
As well as the private family events, there are religious services throughout the eight days – more services for the more observant, of course. Another popular observance is “Taslich,” the washing away of sins: people go to a lake or river and thrown in stones or bread to symbolize spiritual cleansing. In some parts of New York, people have seen their neighbors doing that for decades – or even centuries.
New York has had organized Jewish congregations since 1680 – and by the early 1800s, there were several large and visible groups. For a long time, though, the services were held in the style of the first group who arrived: Sephardic (Spanish and Middle Eastern) Jews, despite the fact that most of the congregants were Eastern European Ashkenazi Jews.
Whatever kind of service they went to, the congregation probably looked pretty sharp. New clothes for a new year are part of many families’ tradition, much as Christians buy new outfits for Easter. Dressing up for an important holiday is a pretty common human impulse, after all.
The High Holy Days end with Yom Kippur, a solemn day of religious atonement and reflection. Even less-observant families (mine!) will often take the day off work and disconnect from social media so they can spend the time fasting, contemplating, and making things right for the next year.
That’s not just getting right in the religious sense -- it’s also about getting right with the people around you. If you’ve wronged anyone, you’re expected to do your best to fix it.
By the way, if you’re wondering what to say to a friend who’s marking Yom Kippur, it’s better to wish them “a blessed atonement” than to wish them a happy one. It shows understanding and support on what is a very solemn day…and isn’t that exactly what a true friend wants to do?
Got a #Throwback Thursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
September 2, 2021
HOT UNDER THE COLLAR
For a lot of us, this summer has marked the return to work clothes, in the very worst season for the year for professional wear.
But a blazer or shirtdress is nothing compared to a corset and a half-dozen layers of cotton without air conditioning.
That’s exactly what women had to face in the late 19th century, and honestly, for hundreds of years before. But it wasn’t really until the 1800s that ridiculous standards of layering up really took hold.
If (like me) you grew up on a steady diet of L.M. Montgomery, Laura Ingalls Wilder and the like, you probably remember comments like “A nice woman never wears less than three petticoats, at least one flannel.” Also if you’re like me, you probably didn’t believe people actually wore that much clothing.
Wrong. A look at fashion plates and popular advice will tell you that they sure did. In the lists for a middle-to-upper class bride’s trousseau, the sheer quantity of chemises, petticoats and drawers suggests women were swathed in layer upon layer of thin cotton. That was the good part: it was thin and it was cotton. But there sure was a lot of it.
By 1899, when Ella Shane and her friends would be dressing for a hot day, they’d start with pantalets and a camisole, or “combinations” – one-piece long johns to you -- if they were especially forward-thinking. Then came the stays (even singers like Ella wore them, though she wouldn’t lace tight: a nice woman NEVER left the house without a corset). Next a corset-cover, essentially another camisole. Plus those petticoats, though hopefully not heavy flannel in the summer heat. Stockings too.
Which finally brings us to the dress. Those sheer white or pastel lawn frocks you see in the vintage photos are very pretty, but they’re really just practical. If you’ve already got four or five layers on, you want to top it off with the least clothing you can decently wear. So the dress has to be as thin and breathable as the rest of the outfit.
People who’ve tried it (I’m not one of them, being about a foot too tall to wear anything dating from the time) say that it’s not as tortuous as it seems, as long as you don’t lace the stays very tight. The thin natural fibers do help wick sweat, and all the light loose petticoats and skirts let air move. Which is all well and good, but remember, you’re still out there in many, many layers of clothing in a world without air conditioning.
So it’s not surprising that most old summer pictures of women in street clothes – as opposed to bathing suits, which is another post for another day – show them sitting on chaises in the shade or slowly walking in the sea breeze. That’s about all most of us could reasonably manage in a getup like that.
You might want to spare a thought here for the maids, laundresses and other working women of the time, who were expected to dress “decently” by their employers’ standards, but did not have the luxury of relaxing in the shade. Never mind the women helping their men in the gardens and fields. Not just backbreaking work – but backbreaking work in clothes that only added to the burden.
So, as uncomfortable as she might have been, Ella would know it could have been a lot worse, and she’d be grateful. And it sure makes the blazer and skinny pants seem better!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
But a blazer or shirtdress is nothing compared to a corset and a half-dozen layers of cotton without air conditioning.
That’s exactly what women had to face in the late 19th century, and honestly, for hundreds of years before. But it wasn’t really until the 1800s that ridiculous standards of layering up really took hold.
If (like me) you grew up on a steady diet of L.M. Montgomery, Laura Ingalls Wilder and the like, you probably remember comments like “A nice woman never wears less than three petticoats, at least one flannel.” Also if you’re like me, you probably didn’t believe people actually wore that much clothing.
Wrong. A look at fashion plates and popular advice will tell you that they sure did. In the lists for a middle-to-upper class bride’s trousseau, the sheer quantity of chemises, petticoats and drawers suggests women were swathed in layer upon layer of thin cotton. That was the good part: it was thin and it was cotton. But there sure was a lot of it.
By 1899, when Ella Shane and her friends would be dressing for a hot day, they’d start with pantalets and a camisole, or “combinations” – one-piece long johns to you -- if they were especially forward-thinking. Then came the stays (even singers like Ella wore them, though she wouldn’t lace tight: a nice woman NEVER left the house without a corset). Next a corset-cover, essentially another camisole. Plus those petticoats, though hopefully not heavy flannel in the summer heat. Stockings too.
Which finally brings us to the dress. Those sheer white or pastel lawn frocks you see in the vintage photos are very pretty, but they’re really just practical. If you’ve already got four or five layers on, you want to top it off with the least clothing you can decently wear. So the dress has to be as thin and breathable as the rest of the outfit.
People who’ve tried it (I’m not one of them, being about a foot too tall to wear anything dating from the time) say that it’s not as tortuous as it seems, as long as you don’t lace the stays very tight. The thin natural fibers do help wick sweat, and all the light loose petticoats and skirts let air move. Which is all well and good, but remember, you’re still out there in many, many layers of clothing in a world without air conditioning.
So it’s not surprising that most old summer pictures of women in street clothes – as opposed to bathing suits, which is another post for another day – show them sitting on chaises in the shade or slowly walking in the sea breeze. That’s about all most of us could reasonably manage in a getup like that.
You might want to spare a thought here for the maids, laundresses and other working women of the time, who were expected to dress “decently” by their employers’ standards, but did not have the luxury of relaxing in the shade. Never mind the women helping their men in the gardens and fields. Not just backbreaking work – but backbreaking work in clothes that only added to the burden.
So, as uncomfortable as she might have been, Ella would know it could have been a lot worse, and she’d be grateful. And it sure makes the blazer and skinny pants seem better!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
August 25, 2021
ESCAPE TO CONEY ISLAND
For many New Yorkers, and people who love the City, summer fun is spelled “Coney Island.”
Even now, the opening of the Coney Island rides is the first sign that summer is coming. Luna Park’s Cyclone roller coaster opens in early April, and winter-weary (and this past year, pandemic-weary) New Yorkers rejoice at the thought that fun times are ahead.
New Yorkers have been heading to Coney Island for a good time for well over a century and a half. In the 1830s, it was far enough away from Manhattan to be a real escape, and the vacationers started coming. Soon, enterprising folks started building hotels to house them and activities to amuse them.
Transportation helped. The first hotel, in 1829, was put up by the same group that built the first bridge and shell road. As trains, steamships and ferries reduced the ride from a half-day to a couple of hours, more and more Manhattanites started taking the trip. Which of course led to more and more hotels, resorts and activities.
The area eventually grew into three distinct resort areas: West Brighton, Brighton Beach, and Manhattan Beach, each with its own clientele. According to heartofconeyisland.com, West Brighton was working-class, Brighton Beach middle-class, and Manhattan Beach upper-class. But then, at the end of the 19th century, something very big and different happened at West Brighton: the nation’s first real amusement park.
Attractions had been around since the 1870s or so: aquariums, roller coasters and other things to interest and entertain the visitors. But the idea of a bunch of rides and activities in one place, for one price – the modern amusement or theme park – started with Captain Paul Boynton and his Sea Lion Park. (Fun fact: he got the idea from P.T. Barnum’s Big Top – all the circus acts under one canvas roof!) Sea Lion Park opened in 1895, and lasted until the rainy summer of 1902 convinced Captain Boynton he wanted to do something else.
That was just fine with the next wave of amusement park developers.
In 1903, Luna Park took over the former site of Sea Lion Park, with new and exciting attractions and the big treat of electric lights at night. Not too far away, Dreamland – with a central tower and a million lights – followed a year later. And soon after that, the iconic Coney Island Boardwalk was built, under an agreement between the City (Brooklyn became part of New York in 1898) and local leaders.
It was the start of Coney Island’s heyday as an amusement area, which lasted for several decades. The Cyclone – a beloved institution whether or not you’re a roller coaster rider – opened in 1927, and was eventually named an official New York City landmark.
There’s not enough space here to chronicle the mid-to-late 20th century decline, reversal and renewal in the area. Enough to say that the Cyclone is still there, and New Yorkers still look forward to a spin every spring.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Even now, the opening of the Coney Island rides is the first sign that summer is coming. Luna Park’s Cyclone roller coaster opens in early April, and winter-weary (and this past year, pandemic-weary) New Yorkers rejoice at the thought that fun times are ahead.
New Yorkers have been heading to Coney Island for a good time for well over a century and a half. In the 1830s, it was far enough away from Manhattan to be a real escape, and the vacationers started coming. Soon, enterprising folks started building hotels to house them and activities to amuse them.
Transportation helped. The first hotel, in 1829, was put up by the same group that built the first bridge and shell road. As trains, steamships and ferries reduced the ride from a half-day to a couple of hours, more and more Manhattanites started taking the trip. Which of course led to more and more hotels, resorts and activities.
The area eventually grew into three distinct resort areas: West Brighton, Brighton Beach, and Manhattan Beach, each with its own clientele. According to heartofconeyisland.com, West Brighton was working-class, Brighton Beach middle-class, and Manhattan Beach upper-class. But then, at the end of the 19th century, something very big and different happened at West Brighton: the nation’s first real amusement park.
Attractions had been around since the 1870s or so: aquariums, roller coasters and other things to interest and entertain the visitors. But the idea of a bunch of rides and activities in one place, for one price – the modern amusement or theme park – started with Captain Paul Boynton and his Sea Lion Park. (Fun fact: he got the idea from P.T. Barnum’s Big Top – all the circus acts under one canvas roof!) Sea Lion Park opened in 1895, and lasted until the rainy summer of 1902 convinced Captain Boynton he wanted to do something else.
That was just fine with the next wave of amusement park developers.
In 1903, Luna Park took over the former site of Sea Lion Park, with new and exciting attractions and the big treat of electric lights at night. Not too far away, Dreamland – with a central tower and a million lights – followed a year later. And soon after that, the iconic Coney Island Boardwalk was built, under an agreement between the City (Brooklyn became part of New York in 1898) and local leaders.
It was the start of Coney Island’s heyday as an amusement area, which lasted for several decades. The Cyclone – a beloved institution whether or not you’re a roller coaster rider – opened in 1927, and was eventually named an official New York City landmark.
There’s not enough space here to chronicle the mid-to-late 20th century decline, reversal and renewal in the area. Enough to say that the Cyclone is still there, and New Yorkers still look forward to a spin every spring.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
August 19, 2021
TOO HOT
Depending on where you are, it’s been a rough summer, or a record-setting disaster, and it’s not over yet. Even so, we’re confronting this misery with a lot of modern conveniences that people didn’t have in the 19th century – like air conditioning, refrigeration, and sanitation for starters.
In the Heatwave of 1896, most New Yorkers were pretty much on their own.
It’s hard to be sure exactly how hot it got. One writer suggests that if temperatures were in the mid-90s on gauges placed high on buildings, it was probably closer to 120 on the black asphalt. The precise number wasn’t really important as the sun beat mercilessly down, turning the pavement to a grill, and tenements to roasters.
Those tenements were some of the worst, and most dangerous, places to be. People were packed in at levels that we can’t imagine now, and it was stuffy on a good day. During the heatwave, residents did the only thing they could, hanging out windows and climbing onto roofs for any breath of air they could find.
It didn’t save them.
Hundreds died inside from heat stroke, especially babies, who were the first casualties because their tiny bodies don’t regulate temperature as well. The climbers didn’t fare much better. Deaths from falls became so bad that the city opened up parks for sleeping.
The other group that suffered most is the same one that suffers today: outdoor laborers. The majority of people who died were actually working-class men, who had to go out there and do whatever backbreaking job they usually did, only on streets that held the heat and radiated it back at them.
At first, the City didn’t do much, leaving it to people to just deal with it as best they could. As the heat wore on, the death toll rose, and the sheer misery increased, the outcry grew. And finally, when it was almost over, leaders decided to act. The Public Works Department re-arranged shifts so its men (and they were all men then) didn’t have to work in the heat of the day, and started opening fire hydrants to give people a chance to cool off.
And the Police Commissioner brought out the ice.
The Commissioner, a fellow by the name of Theodore Roosevelt, gave away free ice from police stations and made sure it was taken into the tenements. He learned a lot about his fellow New Yorkers and their lives, and at least one writer (Ed Kohn, who literally wrote the book on the heatwave: HOT TIME IN THE OLD TOWN, 2010) believes the experience helped shape his later policies as president.
After ten days, the heat finally broke.
For the survivors, it would be a terrible memory, and if they lived long enough, a wonderful story with which to torment their grandchildren. But this time, when Grandpa said he lived through the worst heat wave ever, he wasn’t exaggerating for effect.
There’s also some truth to the walking to school through three feet of snow thing…but that’s another post.
(Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments)
In the Heatwave of 1896, most New Yorkers were pretty much on their own.
It’s hard to be sure exactly how hot it got. One writer suggests that if temperatures were in the mid-90s on gauges placed high on buildings, it was probably closer to 120 on the black asphalt. The precise number wasn’t really important as the sun beat mercilessly down, turning the pavement to a grill, and tenements to roasters.
Those tenements were some of the worst, and most dangerous, places to be. People were packed in at levels that we can’t imagine now, and it was stuffy on a good day. During the heatwave, residents did the only thing they could, hanging out windows and climbing onto roofs for any breath of air they could find.
It didn’t save them.
Hundreds died inside from heat stroke, especially babies, who were the first casualties because their tiny bodies don’t regulate temperature as well. The climbers didn’t fare much better. Deaths from falls became so bad that the city opened up parks for sleeping.
The other group that suffered most is the same one that suffers today: outdoor laborers. The majority of people who died were actually working-class men, who had to go out there and do whatever backbreaking job they usually did, only on streets that held the heat and radiated it back at them.
At first, the City didn’t do much, leaving it to people to just deal with it as best they could. As the heat wore on, the death toll rose, and the sheer misery increased, the outcry grew. And finally, when it was almost over, leaders decided to act. The Public Works Department re-arranged shifts so its men (and they were all men then) didn’t have to work in the heat of the day, and started opening fire hydrants to give people a chance to cool off.
And the Police Commissioner brought out the ice.
The Commissioner, a fellow by the name of Theodore Roosevelt, gave away free ice from police stations and made sure it was taken into the tenements. He learned a lot about his fellow New Yorkers and their lives, and at least one writer (Ed Kohn, who literally wrote the book on the heatwave: HOT TIME IN THE OLD TOWN, 2010) believes the experience helped shape his later policies as president.
After ten days, the heat finally broke.
For the survivors, it would be a terrible memory, and if they lived long enough, a wonderful story with which to torment their grandchildren. But this time, when Grandpa said he lived through the worst heat wave ever, he wasn’t exaggerating for effect.
There’s also some truth to the walking to school through three feet of snow thing…but that’s another post.
(Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments)
August 11, 2021
THAT NOT-SO-FRESH FEELING
Show of hands, who’s a little sweaty?
Well, maybe we shouldn’t raise our hands right now!
We’ve officially reached the hot, sticky – and stinky – part of summer.
But at least we have modern ways to deal with the sweat.
In the late 19th century, there weren’t a lot of effective deodorants, but there was a strong new emphasis on cleanliness. Particularly for the ladies.
August must have been pretty miserable.
Breathable cotton clothes only get you so far if you’re wearing several layers of them. Even with the help of dress shields, which were exactly what they sound like: half-moon-shaped (usually) fabric things that were sewn into the appropriate place in your top, there would still be a lot of sweat out there. Dress shields also came in rubber, but I, for one, don’t even want to imagine what it must have been like to have a chunk of damp rubber stuck to my underarm in 90-degree weather.
And all of that before things started to, shall we say, smell less than daisy-fresh.
The first commercial deodorant, a thick cream with the enchanting name of “Mum,” as in “keep it mum,” was invented in 1888. But it would be decades before people just picked up a stick of something the way we do now. Most folks made or bought some kind of concoction that included perfume to mask the scent of sweat, alum to dry it – and often, an ingredient to discourage the bacteria that make sweat stink.
Terrifyingly, at least some home recipes included carbolic acid. That was a popular disinfectant at the time…not to mention a really good way to get a chemical burn if you used too much of it. Let’s hope most people didn’t.
If you didn’t want to risk a DIY, chances were pretty good your local druggist would have something useful. At the time, local pharmacies made all kinds of concoctions in-house, from patent remedies to cosmetics, and your friendly neighborhood druggist almost certainly had a better handle on how much carbolic acid was too much!
The format of your deodorant wasn’t nearly as set as it is now. Most of us are used to sticks, and the occasional roll-on or crystal. But the roll-on wasn’t invented until the 1950s (inspired by the ballpoint pen, of all things!), and the deodorant itself could have been anything from a thick cream to a thin liquid.
No matter what it was, it was pretty messy to put on by our standards. You’d have to rub in the cream, or use a swab to wipe the liquid on the appropriate spot. Powders were also popular for women, and those aren’t known for staying in one place.
Still, it was all better than reeking. And at worst, if you ended up smelling of lavender, carbolic acid, and sweat, people would know that you did make a good effort. That, for our respectable Victorians, was at least as important as whether you actually succeeded in stamping out the stink.
Cleanliness, after all, was next to godliness…and there’s a reason why all of those old horror stories dwell on the foul stench of demons! (They could have used some Mum!)
Got an idea for a Throwback Thursday post? Drop it in the comments!
Well, maybe we shouldn’t raise our hands right now!
We’ve officially reached the hot, sticky – and stinky – part of summer.
But at least we have modern ways to deal with the sweat.
In the late 19th century, there weren’t a lot of effective deodorants, but there was a strong new emphasis on cleanliness. Particularly for the ladies.
August must have been pretty miserable.
Breathable cotton clothes only get you so far if you’re wearing several layers of them. Even with the help of dress shields, which were exactly what they sound like: half-moon-shaped (usually) fabric things that were sewn into the appropriate place in your top, there would still be a lot of sweat out there. Dress shields also came in rubber, but I, for one, don’t even want to imagine what it must have been like to have a chunk of damp rubber stuck to my underarm in 90-degree weather.
And all of that before things started to, shall we say, smell less than daisy-fresh.
The first commercial deodorant, a thick cream with the enchanting name of “Mum,” as in “keep it mum,” was invented in 1888. But it would be decades before people just picked up a stick of something the way we do now. Most folks made or bought some kind of concoction that included perfume to mask the scent of sweat, alum to dry it – and often, an ingredient to discourage the bacteria that make sweat stink.
Terrifyingly, at least some home recipes included carbolic acid. That was a popular disinfectant at the time…not to mention a really good way to get a chemical burn if you used too much of it. Let’s hope most people didn’t.
If you didn’t want to risk a DIY, chances were pretty good your local druggist would have something useful. At the time, local pharmacies made all kinds of concoctions in-house, from patent remedies to cosmetics, and your friendly neighborhood druggist almost certainly had a better handle on how much carbolic acid was too much!
The format of your deodorant wasn’t nearly as set as it is now. Most of us are used to sticks, and the occasional roll-on or crystal. But the roll-on wasn’t invented until the 1950s (inspired by the ballpoint pen, of all things!), and the deodorant itself could have been anything from a thick cream to a thin liquid.
No matter what it was, it was pretty messy to put on by our standards. You’d have to rub in the cream, or use a swab to wipe the liquid on the appropriate spot. Powders were also popular for women, and those aren’t known for staying in one place.
Still, it was all better than reeking. And at worst, if you ended up smelling of lavender, carbolic acid, and sweat, people would know that you did make a good effort. That, for our respectable Victorians, was at least as important as whether you actually succeeded in stamping out the stink.
Cleanliness, after all, was next to godliness…and there’s a reason why all of those old horror stories dwell on the foul stench of demons! (They could have used some Mum!)
Got an idea for a Throwback Thursday post? Drop it in the comments!
August 5, 2021
GONE ON VACATION
In the newsroom, we call it the Summer Slump. The Professor and the Imp call it Break. The schmancy people in the Hamptons call it the Season. My writer friends just call it August, and sigh because they know nothing good – or bad -- will happen until after Labor Day.
Whatever you call it, you can thank the late 19th century for your summer break.
Until then, taking more than a day or two off was only for people who were deathly ill, or taking care of someone who was. The very idea was an offense to the whole concept of work ethic that so many Americans held dear. People, unless they had the sheer good fortune to be born wealthy, were expected to work for their keep on a daily basis.
But then, a few things happened to move the needle.
Unions started to succeed in their push for eight-hour days, safer working conditions – and actual time off.
Schools started to adopt calendars with longer breaks in the summer, and not just so kids could work in the fields. In some communities at some times, farm work did play a role…but it was just as possible that the length of the year was determined by the amount of money the school district had to pay teachers. Not to mention the fact that most of the really serious farm work happens at planting and harvest – spring and fall – not summer.
Another big reason for summer vacations was the rise of an urban or suburban middle class. That meant more families with more money and time off to take a break.
The Victorian housewife also had a role to play. With their men working in city offices, and their children out of school for weeks at a time, many mothers started wanting to go somewhere cool, clean and safe.
So they did.
Resorts and summer rentals exploded anywhere families could reach by a reasonable train or wagon ride. This is the beginning of the summer seasons in the Catskills and more.
Families of even relatively modest means started sending the wife and children to a cabin or resort for weeks at a time. It was intended as a break for everyone, getting the family away from the heat, grime and danger of the city in the summer, and giving Dad a little bachelor time. Of course he wasn’t supposed to take advantage, and Mom wasn’t supposed to acknowledge it…but…
The family summer holiday remained a tradition for decades – it was still very much a thing as late as the 1950s, when it was the plot device for “The Seven-Year Itch” starring Marilyn Monroe as the temptation for a bachelor dad.
Eventually, as more women started working, and businesses tightened up their rules, the months-long vacations tapered off…and many of us would be thrilled to get a few days at the shore now.
Still, though, even if you don’t take the month off, there’s no question that the old-fashioned work ethic drops off a good bit in August -- and everyone needs a break. So don’t be too annoyed if it takes a while to get a reply to that email. And don’t rush to return mine.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
Whatever you call it, you can thank the late 19th century for your summer break.
Until then, taking more than a day or two off was only for people who were deathly ill, or taking care of someone who was. The very idea was an offense to the whole concept of work ethic that so many Americans held dear. People, unless they had the sheer good fortune to be born wealthy, were expected to work for their keep on a daily basis.
But then, a few things happened to move the needle.
Unions started to succeed in their push for eight-hour days, safer working conditions – and actual time off.
Schools started to adopt calendars with longer breaks in the summer, and not just so kids could work in the fields. In some communities at some times, farm work did play a role…but it was just as possible that the length of the year was determined by the amount of money the school district had to pay teachers. Not to mention the fact that most of the really serious farm work happens at planting and harvest – spring and fall – not summer.
Another big reason for summer vacations was the rise of an urban or suburban middle class. That meant more families with more money and time off to take a break.
The Victorian housewife also had a role to play. With their men working in city offices, and their children out of school for weeks at a time, many mothers started wanting to go somewhere cool, clean and safe.
So they did.
Resorts and summer rentals exploded anywhere families could reach by a reasonable train or wagon ride. This is the beginning of the summer seasons in the Catskills and more.
Families of even relatively modest means started sending the wife and children to a cabin or resort for weeks at a time. It was intended as a break for everyone, getting the family away from the heat, grime and danger of the city in the summer, and giving Dad a little bachelor time. Of course he wasn’t supposed to take advantage, and Mom wasn’t supposed to acknowledge it…but…
The family summer holiday remained a tradition for decades – it was still very much a thing as late as the 1950s, when it was the plot device for “The Seven-Year Itch” starring Marilyn Monroe as the temptation for a bachelor dad.
Eventually, as more women started working, and businesses tightened up their rules, the months-long vacations tapered off…and many of us would be thrilled to get a few days at the shore now.
Still, though, even if you don’t take the month off, there’s no question that the old-fashioned work ethic drops off a good bit in August -- and everyone needs a break. So don’t be too annoyed if it takes a while to get a reply to that email. And don’t rush to return mine.
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
July 29, 2021
GENTLEMEN ATHLETES
These days, when we think of Olympians, we’re just as likely to think of Simone Biles as Michael Phelps. Or the women’s soccer team as the Dream Team. But when the modern games began, they were an all-male event. And even when women were allowed to participate, for decades, it was only in “ladylike” sports.
For a long time, the ideal Olympic athlete was a man. Think Chariots of Fire.
Inspiring story, wonderful movie. As long as you don’t mind that the ladies were in the stands, not on the track.
(Though by 1912, there WERE female Olympians -- competing in tennis, swimming and diving.)
I’m surely not the only person old enough to remember being amazed at what a Big Deal was made of the first women’s marathon at the Olympics. In 1984! Women had been running marathons for years, but the Olympics weren’t ready for it. Men, of course, had always been allowed to run at whatever distance they chose.
If you’re wondering how someone can seriously believe that females can give birth but not run marathons, you’re actually moving toward the elephant in the room in the history of women’s sports.
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, the men, and it was usually men, who decided what women could play and how were very concerned about protecting the “female energies.” As in making sure women didn’t burn themselves out on the track or the court so they could do their divinely ordained job of producing the next generation.
It probably sounded like a load of compost to young women in the 1890s…and it sure does now. But there were still plenty of men in positions of authority who believed it, and it led to all kinds of limitations on women’s sports that had little to do with their actual physical abilities – and everything to do with the minds of the men in charge.
To be fair, it’s not just the men who believed this stuff. Plenty of women bought it too; any number of women advice writers told girls to be careful not to strain themselves, make sure they got enough rest, and so on. All coded references to female biology and a not so-subtle reminder that a girl’s REAL job is to carry babies.
It took decades of strong female athletes – from Babe Didrickson to Flo Jo and beyond – to send that thinking to the dustbin. Even now, despite credible research that shows motherhood improves athletic performance, and that active women have healthier pregnancies, women athletes still get questions about combining competition and parenting.
For turn of the 20th century men, though, it wasn’t just about the alleged science or the “female energies.” It was the idea that a woman might want more than sitting at the hearth as the Angel in the House. Sure, they’d learned to tolerate New Women with their bicycles and their tennis racquets…but even New Women didn’t want to run. And who knew what might happen if you let women start running?
Maybe a marathon?
For a long time, the ideal Olympic athlete was a man. Think Chariots of Fire.
Inspiring story, wonderful movie. As long as you don’t mind that the ladies were in the stands, not on the track.
(Though by 1912, there WERE female Olympians -- competing in tennis, swimming and diving.)
I’m surely not the only person old enough to remember being amazed at what a Big Deal was made of the first women’s marathon at the Olympics. In 1984! Women had been running marathons for years, but the Olympics weren’t ready for it. Men, of course, had always been allowed to run at whatever distance they chose.
If you’re wondering how someone can seriously believe that females can give birth but not run marathons, you’re actually moving toward the elephant in the room in the history of women’s sports.
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, the men, and it was usually men, who decided what women could play and how were very concerned about protecting the “female energies.” As in making sure women didn’t burn themselves out on the track or the court so they could do their divinely ordained job of producing the next generation.
It probably sounded like a load of compost to young women in the 1890s…and it sure does now. But there were still plenty of men in positions of authority who believed it, and it led to all kinds of limitations on women’s sports that had little to do with their actual physical abilities – and everything to do with the minds of the men in charge.
To be fair, it’s not just the men who believed this stuff. Plenty of women bought it too; any number of women advice writers told girls to be careful not to strain themselves, make sure they got enough rest, and so on. All coded references to female biology and a not so-subtle reminder that a girl’s REAL job is to carry babies.
It took decades of strong female athletes – from Babe Didrickson to Flo Jo and beyond – to send that thinking to the dustbin. Even now, despite credible research that shows motherhood improves athletic performance, and that active women have healthier pregnancies, women athletes still get questions about combining competition and parenting.
For turn of the 20th century men, though, it wasn’t just about the alleged science or the “female energies.” It was the idea that a woman might want more than sitting at the hearth as the Angel in the House. Sure, they’d learned to tolerate New Women with their bicycles and their tennis racquets…but even New Women didn’t want to run. And who knew what might happen if you let women start running?
Maybe a marathon?
July 22, 2021
FAN TALES
The Victorians loved secret languages.
A simple bouquet of spring flowers could be an entire love sonnet…or a nasty breakup note, depending on the composition.
Another favorite secret language was the fan.
Hand fans were a standard part of a lady’s outfit for most times of the day, and especially in evening dress. And the fan was the ideal accessory for flirtation at the ball and banquet.
So of course, there was a time-honored language for it, passed down through generations of misses and their swains…right?
Well, there was indeed a Language of the Fan, published by a French fan-maker in the 1820s, but it wasn’t the record of traditions of fan flirtation. It was a slick way to move some merch.
Seems fans had gone out of vogue during the French Revolution (it’s tough to hang onto your fan when you’re running from peasants with pikes!) and now that things had calmed down, Monsieur Duvelleroy was looking to sell more. So he put out this wonderfully detailed “Language of the Fan,” with moves covering everything from “come and talk to me” to “I love you” to “I hate you.”
And it worked!
Ladies practiced their moves, gentlemen learned the basics, and soon everyone was aflutter. Especially Monsieur Duvelleroy, who ended up opening a shop in London and selling his wares to the lead romantic herself, Queen Victoria.
From everything I’ve read about Her Majesty, I suspect she spent a lot of time with the handle to her lips around Prince Albert – “kiss me” – when he would have preferred her drawing the fan across the eyes: “I am sorry.” Still, it was a fun game for everyone who had money for fans and the time to play with them.
The fans themselves evolved over time as well.
In the early part of the era, they were the same smallish ones women had favored a century before, often even the same styles, with ivory or shell sticks, and lovely little paintings on the fabric or paper leaves. By the late 19th century, though, the fans had grown up. Or at least grown.
1880s and 1890s fans could be enormous, often with big fancy plumes in place of leaves. Those plumes, from ostriches and other birds, ultimately sparked one of the first big animal-rights movements in fashion, but that’s a different post for a different day.
These fans were just amazing, sometimes as much as 30 inches – two-and-a-half FEET! – wide when open. It’s hard to imagine a woman doing the graceful fan flirt moves with these things, and indeed, when you see them in pictures, ladies are usually holding them down toward their skirts, showing off their prized possession without trying to actually use it.
Those enormous fans were also used in an entirely different kind of secret language, and one that our dainty ballroom ladies didn’t know about – or at least pretended they didn’t: the fan dance. Fan dances, in which the big feathers are used to conceal and reveal various parts of the dancer’s body, became a fixture in burlesque.
The big fans didn’t last long in the ballroom, though, because they really were unwieldy. By the turn of the 20th century, women were once again playing with smaller ones…and fans, and their secret language, would soon go the way of gaslights.
Which I say with fan placed behind my head: “Don’t forget me.”
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
A simple bouquet of spring flowers could be an entire love sonnet…or a nasty breakup note, depending on the composition.
Another favorite secret language was the fan.
Hand fans were a standard part of a lady’s outfit for most times of the day, and especially in evening dress. And the fan was the ideal accessory for flirtation at the ball and banquet.
So of course, there was a time-honored language for it, passed down through generations of misses and their swains…right?
Well, there was indeed a Language of the Fan, published by a French fan-maker in the 1820s, but it wasn’t the record of traditions of fan flirtation. It was a slick way to move some merch.
Seems fans had gone out of vogue during the French Revolution (it’s tough to hang onto your fan when you’re running from peasants with pikes!) and now that things had calmed down, Monsieur Duvelleroy was looking to sell more. So he put out this wonderfully detailed “Language of the Fan,” with moves covering everything from “come and talk to me” to “I love you” to “I hate you.”
And it worked!
Ladies practiced their moves, gentlemen learned the basics, and soon everyone was aflutter. Especially Monsieur Duvelleroy, who ended up opening a shop in London and selling his wares to the lead romantic herself, Queen Victoria.
From everything I’ve read about Her Majesty, I suspect she spent a lot of time with the handle to her lips around Prince Albert – “kiss me” – when he would have preferred her drawing the fan across the eyes: “I am sorry.” Still, it was a fun game for everyone who had money for fans and the time to play with them.
The fans themselves evolved over time as well.
In the early part of the era, they were the same smallish ones women had favored a century before, often even the same styles, with ivory or shell sticks, and lovely little paintings on the fabric or paper leaves. By the late 19th century, though, the fans had grown up. Or at least grown.
1880s and 1890s fans could be enormous, often with big fancy plumes in place of leaves. Those plumes, from ostriches and other birds, ultimately sparked one of the first big animal-rights movements in fashion, but that’s a different post for a different day.
These fans were just amazing, sometimes as much as 30 inches – two-and-a-half FEET! – wide when open. It’s hard to imagine a woman doing the graceful fan flirt moves with these things, and indeed, when you see them in pictures, ladies are usually holding them down toward their skirts, showing off their prized possession without trying to actually use it.
Those enormous fans were also used in an entirely different kind of secret language, and one that our dainty ballroom ladies didn’t know about – or at least pretended they didn’t: the fan dance. Fan dances, in which the big feathers are used to conceal and reveal various parts of the dancer’s body, became a fixture in burlesque.
The big fans didn’t last long in the ballroom, though, because they really were unwieldy. By the turn of the 20th century, women were once again playing with smaller ones…and fans, and their secret language, would soon go the way of gaslights.
Which I say with fan placed behind my head: “Don’t forget me.”
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
July 15, 2021
WE ALL SCREAM
New Yorkers – and the rest of the world – love an ice cream on a hot day. And New Yorkers have been enjoying the treat for a really long time.
There are records of ice cream shops in the City as far back as 1774 – when a British confectioner sold ices, as well as all manner of other sweets that we probably wouldn’t expect to find in a modern shop, like jams and sugar plums.
And no, they weren’t slinging the Chunky Monkey.
Ice cream would not settle into the sweet treat we recognize for a while. In the eighteenth century, flavors like oyster, parmesan cheese, and tea were popular. Whatever the flavor, ice cream was definitely a major trend for the upper classes who could afford to make it. Even at the top of the social scale: George and Martha Washington are said to have spent hundreds of dollars -- $200 to $700 -- on ice cream one summer when they lived in New York. That would be a lot even now, but at the time, many people lived an entire year on a just few dollars!
Martha, by the way, was not overly impressed by the quality of ingredients in the City, complaining that the cream was rancid and the ice cream tasted stale.
Soon enough, ice cream left the reception rooms and became a treat for the masses. The first vendors with carts appeared in the 1820s, and quickly spread through the neighborhoods. “Pleasure Gardens,” otherwise known as early city parks, weren’t complete without a cart.
For those who didn’t want to eat in the street, ice cream parlors weren’t far behind, popping up by the mid-19th century, and quickly becoming neighborhood fixtures. By the turn of the 20th century, they had evolved into the wonderful elaborate soda fountains we know from old movies and postcards.
Not only do we recognize those grand soda fountains, we also recognize many of the treats that were served there. Turn of the 20th century ice cream flavors weren’t much different than ours – though rose, orange blossom and other floral flavors survived for a while. What the clerks (they wouldn’t be called soda jerks for a few decades yet!) were making would have looked familiar to us, too. Sundaes, sodas and floats were all around in forms similar to what we know…though most of us would probably skip the claret syrup!
But the carts have been there all along. Plenty of New Yorkers can still remember the “Hokey-Pokey Man” selling scoops for a few coins, and generations of children grew up with the summer treat. Still do.
Ice cream was also a very social treat, for people of every age. Families took their children to the cart or parlor, co-workers would grab one after a long hot day, and couples would make suitably innocent dates for a sundae. With, of course, appropriate chaperonage, though in the case of an ice cream date, it’s just as likely about the sundae as the proprieties.
It’s a sweet that works for everyone.
For Ella Shane and her cousin Tommy, too. When they argue (hard to believe that those two cool and sensible souls would ever differ, but it happens!) they make up with a trip to the local parlor. Though you may not want to try Ella’s favorite flavor: violet!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
There are records of ice cream shops in the City as far back as 1774 – when a British confectioner sold ices, as well as all manner of other sweets that we probably wouldn’t expect to find in a modern shop, like jams and sugar plums.
And no, they weren’t slinging the Chunky Monkey.
Ice cream would not settle into the sweet treat we recognize for a while. In the eighteenth century, flavors like oyster, parmesan cheese, and tea were popular. Whatever the flavor, ice cream was definitely a major trend for the upper classes who could afford to make it. Even at the top of the social scale: George and Martha Washington are said to have spent hundreds of dollars -- $200 to $700 -- on ice cream one summer when they lived in New York. That would be a lot even now, but at the time, many people lived an entire year on a just few dollars!
Martha, by the way, was not overly impressed by the quality of ingredients in the City, complaining that the cream was rancid and the ice cream tasted stale.
Soon enough, ice cream left the reception rooms and became a treat for the masses. The first vendors with carts appeared in the 1820s, and quickly spread through the neighborhoods. “Pleasure Gardens,” otherwise known as early city parks, weren’t complete without a cart.
For those who didn’t want to eat in the street, ice cream parlors weren’t far behind, popping up by the mid-19th century, and quickly becoming neighborhood fixtures. By the turn of the 20th century, they had evolved into the wonderful elaborate soda fountains we know from old movies and postcards.
Not only do we recognize those grand soda fountains, we also recognize many of the treats that were served there. Turn of the 20th century ice cream flavors weren’t much different than ours – though rose, orange blossom and other floral flavors survived for a while. What the clerks (they wouldn’t be called soda jerks for a few decades yet!) were making would have looked familiar to us, too. Sundaes, sodas and floats were all around in forms similar to what we know…though most of us would probably skip the claret syrup!
But the carts have been there all along. Plenty of New Yorkers can still remember the “Hokey-Pokey Man” selling scoops for a few coins, and generations of children grew up with the summer treat. Still do.
Ice cream was also a very social treat, for people of every age. Families took their children to the cart or parlor, co-workers would grab one after a long hot day, and couples would make suitably innocent dates for a sundae. With, of course, appropriate chaperonage, though in the case of an ice cream date, it’s just as likely about the sundae as the proprieties.
It’s a sweet that works for everyone.
For Ella Shane and her cousin Tommy, too. When they argue (hard to believe that those two cool and sensible souls would ever differ, but it happens!) they make up with a trip to the local parlor. Though you may not want to try Ella’s favorite flavor: violet!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments.
