Category Archives: History 1910-1930

Rubber Fashions at the Sea-side: 1914-1919

Rubber swimming ensemble, 1914

Each succeeding summer brings with it new styles in bathing caps, which as a rule follow as closely as possible the prevailing modes in millinery, but the array of styles and colorings available to the bathers of this particular season is even larger than usual, and includes bonnets, caps and hats in endless variety and in all the most desired shades, made of rubber, as well as of rubberized satin, etc., and adorned with berries, fruit, leaves, flowers and ribbon—all of rubber or rubberized to stand any amount of wetting in either salt or fresh water. Four especially attractive models are here illustrated.

Rubber bathing caps, 1914

Rubber bathing hats, 1914

The first is an all-rubber cap, which can be obtained in blue, cerise or emerald green, with the rubber rose at the side in contrasting color. The second model, with rosette trimming, is of the “Castle” type and comes in black and navy blue. The third model is a rubberized silk turban and is made in black, navy blue and purple, with the wired donkey ears of the same material as the cap. The last of the four is an all-rubber cap, decorated with velvety rubber flowers and obtainable in blue, cerise, coral, and purple.

But the manufacturers of rubber goods have not been content this season to supply a variety of new and pleasing models of bathing caps. They have extended their line of accessories for the bathing costume to include numerous other articles, several of which are also shown. The first of these cuts shows an all-rubber sailor collar, the edge of which is decorated with tiny rubber roses—something that is bound to add an air of up-to-dateness to any bathing suit. This cut also shows a pair of rubber buckles, a decoration that can be appropriately applied not only to the belt or girdle, but with perhaps even greater effectiveness to the bathing slippers, which have heretofore presented rather a bare appearance because of the lack of a buckle that would withstand the effects of frequent immersion in salt water. The next figure [at the head of this post] shows a bather to whose costume has been added a rubber sash or girdle, which close under a bunch of rubber flowers, the ends of the sash being in Roman stripes in colors to match the plaid cap. As will be noted, this bather is also equipped with a cape of rubber, an accessory which has become very popular this season for wear over the bathing suit. Wreaths of rubber roses are also obtainable for use in trimming the extremely popular beach hat—and they are very genuine appearing and highly decorative. In fact, the line of rubber accessories for the present season has reached a degree of elaborateness never before attained, and would seem to be complete. India Rubber World 1 July 1914: p 547

Very simple, but hygienic, are the lines of a bathing corset made of rubber sheeting. This material is not stiff but sheds water like a duck, and proved itself a comfort last season to many a plump mermaid who “did not feel comfortable without a corset.”… Oregonian [Portland, OR] 18 June 1916: p. 6

Neckwear, sashes, garters, flowers, beach balls of inflated rubber, and long fringe-edged scarfs, are also made of the rubber sheetings in gay colors and of gum rubber. A beach scarf of white rubber is a very handy thing to wrap oneself up in when coming in out of the sea. These scarfs are quite wide and long and have striking designs in contrasting rubber at the ends above a deep row of rubber fringe. Oregonian [Portland, OR] 18 June 1916: p. 6

Smart one-piece bathing suit of navy blue taffeta with rubber parasol and hat, 1919

Rubber Hats and Parasols

In many instances the new rubber bathing hats are fashioned with quite a wide brim and a crushed close-fitting crown, held with a rubber band, so that the hat is adjustable to any size head. One of the precautionary measures to be taken before putting one of these rubber hats on is the removing of every hairpin, as even one hairpin forgotten will often puncture the hat and render it useless. These wide-brimmed rubber hats are trimmed with rosettes and flowers of rubber, and when properly adjusted the effect is as modish and smart as though the hat were a typical sports hat or picture hat. These hats are developed in various gay colors or in soft shades of red, green or gold, and while they are rather expensive they are nevertheless in great demand.

The rubber parasols fashioned with four sections are very unusual in style and shape and are considered one of the exclusive novelties of the season. The great advantage of having the bathing suit parasol of rubber is that it is in no danger of being harmed when it is picked up by a bather who has just come out of the water and whose hands are still dripping with the salt brine. Everything worn by a bather or carried by a bather to the beach is not only apt to get wet, but almost sure to get wet before the day is over, so that the idea of the rubber parasol is a very practical one. American Cloak and Suit Review, Volume 17, 1919

 

An attractive example of the abbreviated type of bathing suit now worn by the smartest American women, 1919

Freakish and Startling Costumes Worn by Ladies at Beach.

The newest fashion for lady bathers is to wear artificial flowers made of India rubber. This certainly sounds a very extravagant fad, but seeing that these adornments are said to be wonderfully effective in beautifying the bathing costume and cap, there is every reason to expect this craze to be extremely popular all along the coasts. The art of making India rubber flowers has been brought to a state of perfection for this purpose, and instead of being merely clumsy sprays of colored rubber, as one might at first imagine, the buttonholes and wreaths thus manufactured are wonderfully artistic creations, varying from rich, massive peonies to dainty buttercups and lilies of the valley.

This novel fashion should prove a really pretty one, provided it is not carried too far and indulged in by the well-known type of “non-get-wet” bather, who may possibly welcome a bouquet of artificial flowers as an additional charm whilst “sun-bathing” in a pretty costume by the “briny.” Grand Forks [ND] Daily Herald 25 June 1914: p. 4

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  The rubber bathing costumes were not without their critics. They were banned from several beaches as indecently form-fitting. All-rubber suits also were clammy and easily torn. It was not until “Lastex”—rubber enveloped in other fibres—was introduced that their utility ultimately triumphed over wool swimming costumes. As Harper’s Bazaar wrote in 1934:

“There’s no wrinkle, no bag, no sag, even under the most ruthless sun! No other human device can even approximate that utter freedom, that perfection of fit, at rest or in motion, that airy but strictly legal sense of wearing nothing at all. There is no substitute for this elastic yarn, which imparts lasting elasticity to any fabric.” Harper’s Bazaar June 1934: p. 9

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

A Safe and Sane Fourth: 1911

 

Gee whiz! Don’t I wish every day wuz de fourth, E.W. Kemble, c. 1904 http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/2010717080/

Mrs. Jarr Lays Plans for a Safe and Sane Fourth.

Does She Succeed? Poor Woman! Just Listen Now

By Roy L. McCardell.

“I really ought not to open this till to-morrow,” said Mrs. Jarr, as with reluctant hands she started to undo the package that had aroused so much interest upon its arrival, per c.o.d. delivery, at the Jarr domicile.

“But you said you would, maw! You said you would!” chorused the little Jarrs.

“Well, as its near dinner time, I suppose I might as well,” said Mrs. Jarr. “I only know this: That is that it is a good idea. And if we had done it before it would have been much better for all concerned. For it really is terrible the way the children get burned and injured by those dreadful fireworks on the Fourth of July, and that is why I heartily agree with Miss Ann Teak of ‘The Modern Mothers,’ in her advocacy of a Safe and Sane Fourth, and the substitution of objects symbolic of freedom and patriotism for dangerous explosives.”

“But, maw, ain’t we gonna have any firecrackers?” whined the little boy. “I never burned myself except with sizzors and they didn’t hurt.”

“May Rangle has got a whole lot of fire trackers,” said the little Jarr girl. “I’m doin’ over to her house and we are doin’ to tie ‘em on the tat’s tail.”

“Emma!” cried Mrs. Jarr reprovingly.

“I agree with the children,” said Mr. Jarr, “Not with hurting or scaring of the poor cat, of course; yet I think that it’s a lot of mollycoddles who would deprive the children of making a little harmless racket on the Fourth. Safe and Sane Fourth! Huh, I think it’s a tame and timid one without firecrackers!” 

“Now, there you go! Inciting the children to all sorts of dreadful things!” remarked Mrs. Jarr plaintively. “It’s no wonder I have a hard time inculcating refinement in these innocent little lambs! Miss Ann Teak told me of an orphan child on the east side who said he would rather have ice cream any day than firecrackers.”

By this time Mrs. Jarr had the strings off the package and the box open, disclosing a mass of gayly colored paper objects. She contented herself with giving Master Jarr a reproving look for his heretical observations and began placing the colored paper things on the table.

They were napkin holders in the shape of firecrackers, the napkins being rice paper ones in the semblance of American flags. There were also scalloped streamers of red, white and blue, which Mrs. Jarr proceeded to drape from the chandelier over the dining room table.

“There!” she said, as she fastened them up. ‘See how beautiful and patriotic these pretty but harmless things make the table for a Fourth of July dinner! Your Aunt Emma, after whom you are named” (here she was addressing the little girl), “always has her table decorated so prettily that it gives one an appetite to see it. It is true that she never has anything much to eat, but one forgets that. On Washington’s Birthday she has little hatchets and cherries, and Thanksgiving Day she has little toy paper turkeys and paper pumpkins and witches’ hats and you forget how slim the meal is.” 

“Aw, is this all, maw?” inquired the boy, regarding the table decorations with disdain. “Ain’t we gonna have any fireworks to-morrow?”

“You can have some torpedoes, which are not dangerous, and some of those sparklers, that look so pretty and do not do any damage,” replied Mrs. Jarr. “But you won’t have a single thing if you are not a good boy and say you are grateful to mamma for getting these pretties. And here are fans with pictures on them showing ‘The Spirit of ‘76’ and the “Signing of the Declaration of Independence,” she added.

“Aw, you can’t make any noise with a fan! Who wants a fan!” cried Young Hopeful, and he screwed up his face in an energetic endeavor to cry.

“I like de fans, div ‘em ta ME, mamma!” cried the little girl. “Anyway I can shoot off Mary Rangle’s fire crackers to-morrow.”

“Now, Willie, if you say one word more you shan’t have any supper and you shan’t have any ice cream to-morrow and you shall never be permitted to go to the moving pictures,” cried Mrs. Jarr, warningly. “We are going to have a Safe and Sane Fourth in this house without any injuries and without any danger of fires!”

But she spoke too soon. The napkin holders looked so greatly like cannon fire crackers that Master Jarr had touched a lighted match to the imitation fuse. It flared up and caught the paper streams from the chandelier and the next minute there was a blaze.

Mr. Jarr got the fire out with such minor personal damage as burned eyelashes and scorched hands. It is likely that the unsafe and insane Fourth will transpire, as usual, to-morrow at the Jarr’s.

The Evening World [New York NY] 3 July 1911: p. 8

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: The unheeded plea for a “Safe and Sane Fourth” went out every year.  Dire casualties from fireworks mounted yearly, despite desperate diversions by hostesses who entertained their “Independence Party” guests at daintily decorated tables:

The house was beautifully decorated with crimson rambler roses, blue larkspurs, and white flowers, large eagles of crepe paper, flags, and national colors. After a short program of patriotic songs and humorous readings, the hostess passed pencils and papers with the words “Independence Day,” from which we were to make as many words as possible. After this we were given a paper flag with stripes on, but with the place for stars left blank; around the two parlors were tacked up on the wall pictures of well-known people, actors, authors, and political leaders. We guessed these “stars” and wrote their names in the blank spaces.

The next event was the luncheon, served at small tables. Place cards were hand-painted miniature Uncle Sams, and blue and white china and cut glass were used. Each plate contained pressed chicken and a peanut butter sandwich, both cut in star shape, potato salad on a lettuce leaf, a beet pickle, cheese straws, and a spray of blue flowers. At the end of this course each lady was presented with what appeared to be a four-inch firecracker, but upon unwrapping, it was found to contain a short comical story. Woman’s Home Companion 1913: p. 99

Mrs Daffodil concedes that pretty paper decorations and comical firecrackers would undoubtedly lack the pyrotechnic panache enjoyed by Mr and Master Jarr.

Still, one would not wish to be May Rangle’s cat.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

The Widow’s Wedding Dress: 1877-1916

A widow’s wedding dress in the dreaded pearl grey, 1879 http://art.famsf.org/widows-wedding-dress-54076

The other bride wore black, being, as Virginie explained to us, a widow carrying the mourning for her defunct husband up to the last possible moment—a touching devotion to his memory, is it not?

The New York Times 26 August 1877: p. 3

AT A WIDOW’S WEDDING

Etiquette Which Governs This Highly momentous Event.

Etiquette governing the wedding of a widow has been recently reorganized and temporarily, at least, is finding high vogue among certain great ladies who are making second matrimonial ventures. The widow’s engagement ring is now a peridot, which in reality is an Indian chrysolite, and a deep leaf-green in color. The peridot ring is set about with diamonds, and when it arrives the lady gives her first engagement ring to her eldest daughter and her wedding ring to her eldest son.

One week before the wedding a stately luncheon is given to the nearest and dearest of the old friends of the bride to be. After the engagement’s announcement, she appears at no public functions. At the altar her dress may be of any subdued shade of satin. To make up for the absence of veil and orange blossoms, profusions of white lace trim the skirt and waist of the bridal gown en secondes noces. Even the bonnet is of white lace and the bouquet is preferably of white orchids. An up the aisle the lady goes, hand in hand with her youngest child, no matter whether it is a boy or girl. The little one wears an elaborate white costume, holds the bride’s bouquet, and precedes the newly married pair to the church door. Where there is a large family of children and a desire on the widow’s part for a trifle more display than is usually accorded on such occasions, all of her daughters, in light gowns and bearing big bouquets, support their mother to the altar.

An informal little breakfast now follows the ceremony. Such a breakfast is scarcely more than a light, simple luncheon, served from the buffet, wound up by a wedding cake, and a toasting posset, but the bride of a second marriage does not distribute cake nor her bouquet among her friends. Her carriage horses do not wear favors, either, though shoes and rice can be freely scattered in her wake, and, to the comfort and economy of her friends, she does not expect anything elaborate in the way of wedding gifts. N.Y. Sun.

Jackson [MI] Citizen Patriot 27 May 1896: p. 5

Subdued colours and muted joy seem to have been the order of the day for most second marriages. Travelling costumes covered a multitude of sins.

SECOND MARRIAGE

What Fashion Prescribes for a Widow’s Bridal Gown.

The Revolution in Etiquette Which Permits White Silk and Orange Blooms to a Widow Who Stands Before the Altar for the Second Time

A change comes o’er the spirit of our dreams. There’s nothing short of a revolution in progress in the etiquette of second marriages.

The color gray, it is against its deadly zinc tones that the arms of the rebels are directed.

Powerful has it been to avenge the spinster on the pretty widow who dared to lead a fresh captive in chains.

I’d wager three yards of pearl gray silk that more than one bridegroom has felt the love glamour fading into common light of every day before the subdued tones, the decorous reminiscent festivities of a second marriage…

I’d wager three yards again the Hamlet’s mother stood up with the wicked uncle in a pearl gray gown frightfully trying to her complexion and that bad as he was he repented the murder when he looked on her. She had no bridesmaids, of course. There were no orange blossoms, and she hid her blushes under no maiden veil. She still wore the ring of her first marriage, and when they came to the proper point in the second ceremony, his fingers touched it, reminding him of ghosts, as he slipped another just like it to be its mate on the same finger. She wore a bonnet probably and thoroughly correct cuffs and collar. It’s possible that she avoided comparisons with the gayeties of her first wedding by eschewing distinctly bridal robes altogether, and gowning herself from head to foot in travelling costume. Unless she had the genius to seek this refuge she was all in half tones, not sorrowful, but as if having emerged from grief, she was yet unable to again taste joy….A traveling dress as a costume for a second marriage saves too many embarrassments as to questions of toilet to fall out of favor these many years. A widow who remarries wears or does not wear, as she chooses, her first wedding ring at the second ceremony. Two or three years ago she usually retained it. Now she oftener takes it off.

[The balance of the article discusses wearing white and bridal flowers in defiance of Mrs Grundy as well as the toilettes of some recent widow-brides.]

Plain Dealer [Cleveland OH] 17 February 1889: p. 12

A widow-bride might also wear half mourning, as in this purple and black gown, c. 1885-89 http://theclothingproject.tumblr.com/

WIDOW’S WEDDING LORE.

It may not be well known, but there is a peculiar etiquette attaching to the ceremony of a woman’s second wedding.

It is possible for her, should circumstances permit, to marry as often as she chooses, but only once in her life is she allowed to carry orange blossoms. This is when she stands at the altar for the first time. On the same principle, it is not correct for a widow to wear white at her second marriage ceremony. Cream, grey, heliotrope—indeed, any color she prefers—is permissible.

The bride of experience also should never wear a long bridal veil with or without a bonnet. Neither is she allowed to wear a wreath on the short veil which etiquette permits her to don. She may, however, carry a bouquet, but this should not be composed of white flowers. It is considered better taste for her to match the colour of her wedding-gown with the floral decorations.

The “bridesmaid” of a widow also is not called a bridesmaid, but a “maid of honor.” Her duties, however, are exactly similar to those of the former, though her title is different.

Rodney and Otamatea Times, Waitemata and Kaipara Gazette 19 March 1913: p. 2

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:

There was a heated controversy over whether widows were ever entitled to wear white en secondes noces. Some said, “yes,” while banning the veil and the orange blossoms (1889); others said only heavy white fabrics such as velvets and brocades were acceptable (1889); while others delicately suggested pale, half-mourning colours (1916).  As we have read above, the “deadly zinc tones” were not universally pleasing. This gown, however, sounds quite lovely:

A widow’s bridal-gown, of palest violet satin trimmed with sable. An infinitesimal toque of silver passementerie and ivory satin is worn on the head. Demorest’s Family Magazine January 1895: p. 186

The most sensitive point of etiquette had been settled by the early 20th century:

Above all [a widow] should not wear the ring of her first husband. That should be taken off and locked away. The second happy man doesn’t want to be reminded of Number One more often than is necessary. Wanganui Chronicle 9 August 1913: p. 4

For more on etiquette for widows, see The Victorian Book of the Dead, which is also available in a Kindle edition.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

The Wedding Pest: 1915

Unwelcome Wedding Guests

June—magic month of blossoms, of dreams, fulfilled and yet to be, is upon us and with it comes the ever lovely bride and the negligible bridegroom, the not always lovely wedding and the wholly unlovely “Wedding Fan.” Not your sweet-scented, delicate bit of lace and ivory, dangling from the arm of the bride, or in a moment of fluttering consciousness, serving to shield her blushes from a too-curious world. Oh, dear no! Nothing of the sort!

The “Wedding Fan” is a pest, an unmitigated, unadulterated nuisance, from the standpoint of those on the “inside,” at least, a public peeping-tom, a beast of prey, a vulgar pushing person to whom the sight of a striped awning outside the portals of a city church is the signal for commencement of his machinations.

Aye, more! He needs no striped canvas, no splash of scarlet velvet reaching across the pavement to start him on his journey of impertinence. Two lines in the penny paper of a June morning, and presto! The germ is alive, crying for quick liberation.

“The marriage of Miss Claribel Astor Vanderbilt, only daughter of Townsend DeLancy Vanderbilt, to Mortimer Spuyten Duyvil Tuxedo will be solemnized at the Fifth Avenue Church of the Apostles on Wednesday next at 4 o’clock.”

This is sufficient to awaken the germ in the “Wedding Fan” and cause it to demand to be taken out for a little exercise. Mostly it is a female germ, keen with the heritage of Pandora, for insinuating itself into forbidden places.

Sex curiosity, desire to borrow a thrill form the joyous exaltation of the young bride, a yearning to gaze on the trappings of a world in which she plays no part, to discern wherein lies the difference between her Eighth avenue “steady” and the titled fiancé of the Fifth avenue heiress, are some motives. And the ‘igher the contractin’ parties, the keener the appetite for the ‘umble fan or faness for a “nose-in” at the show.

“Nose-in,” “toes-in,” any-way-to-get-in, is the motto of your chronic wedding “ug,” to whom invitations are never counted among the requisites of sightseeing in High Society. The fashionable church wedding, calling for “cards of admittance,” has a lure all its own to one of these cratures of the polished brass front crew.

Imperturbable, rebuff-proof, case-hardened against mere insults from minions, these determined devotees of Hymen, who by no other means than plain larceny could possibly put their thumb-prints on the precious, engraved (they feel of it to see) pasteboard, yet somehow find their devious way, trusting to miracle or lie for an open-sesame, past of the police, past the ushers, up the aisle and sometimes e’en to the sacrosanct precincts of the “family pew.”

At a Fifth avenue wedding a fortnight since, a handsome, dignified “grand dame” and her pretty “daughter,” both impeccably attired, were halted at the church door on their failure to produce the proper passports.

The “mother’s” first cue was pretense at not understanding and with supercilious eyebrow at the delay, swept on toward the centre aisle. Usher No. 2 tapped her on the arm, meaning, “Come across, or right-about-face.” Did she weep? Oh, none of such!

Instead a great indignation inspired her and “daughter” added her pretty protest, not a bit overdone. Finally when the old dear found her progress permanently impeded, she condescended to open her dangling opera bag and search for those “really quite unnecessary cards.” Daughter joined in the quest and both exchanged ostentatious glances of puzzled (sic) dismay when the cards remained “hid out.”

“Why, mother dear, I saw them in the limousine,” said “daughter,” but the ushers had ushered before—“no card, no see.” By this time groups of bidden guests, holding crested credentials, who had been pouring forth from motors, were frothing at the mouth.

“Why, I went to school with her mother,” protested the “grand dame” as the bride’s party went in but a few feet away. “Little Gladys here is such a friend of the groom’s. Surely we can have seats without those stupid cards.”

Surely they couldn’t! The suspicious ushers, who possessed the instincts of headquarters detectives, with quiet but firm pressure on the shoulder, escorted those who had attempted to “horn in” to the vestibule, where the angry views of both became audible and culminated in a tirade of Bowery blasphemy, at the ushers, the bride, her parents and grandparents, the church and all future functions of the “Upper Ten.”

“Can you beat it?” asked the ushers.

From all walks of life come the “Wedding Fans.” With some, insatiable curiosity for all doings of the “beau monde,” seems congenital to all ages, they are on the “qui vive” at the first notice of any function, whether wedding or funeral. These are the morbidly curious, and omnipresent as the innocent bystanders, always to be found, an anticipatory foot across the “dead line.”

Philadelphia [PA] Inquirer 27 June 1915: p. 1

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: The gawking multitudes were always present at the Society Wedding, hence the introduction of “pew cards,” as they are called, to keep out the uninvited. Mrs Daffodil understands that they are now called wedding “crashers,” which suggests an assertive lady in a fascinator carrying a battering ram.  Well-trained ushers usually kept the Wedding Pest at bay, but occasionally an unwelcome guest slipped by:

NO IMPEDIMENT.

An Objection to a Wedding Ceremony That Was Overruled.

A popular politician tells a story about one of his electioneering campaigns. He had arrived about noon at a certain small station. He started out after dinner for a walk about the village, on the outskirts of which he came upon a building thronged with people.

The building was a church, and a wedding was about to take place. He edged his way through the crowd until he reached a spot where he had a good view of the bride and bridegroom and the clergyman who was about to perform the ceremony.

The church was packed, with the exception of a low, dark gallery near the roof. This was apparently deserted.

The minister proceeded with the ceremony until he came to the point where custom required him to pause and inquire if there was any one present who knew any reason why the couple should not be made husband and wife. A hush fell upon the assemblage and every one waited in breathless suspense. Something of a sensation was caused when a voice came from the upper gallery, saying:

“Yes, I do.”

All eyes were turned to the gallery where, seated all alone in the gloom, barely discernible, was a meek-looking little man, with a haggard face and disheveled hair. After the clergyman had recovered from his surprise he said sternly, “State your reason, sir!”

The suspense was turned to merriment by the little man’s reply:

“I want the girl myself,” he said.

Harrisburg [PA] Daily Independent 1 September 1909: p. 4

In this case of a bridal veil imposture, an uninvited guest saved the day.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

A Sensible Wedding Shower: 1914

A 1914 gown perhaps in the style worn by our thrifty bride. https://www.augusta-auction.com/search-past-sales?view=lot&id=17788&auction_file_id=46

Why Not A Society for Promotion of Useful Giving

People are getting more sensible each year in the selection of wedding gifts, still the bride receives many things she has little use for and less room.

Here is the story of how one wise mother used her influence in such a manner that the gifts were of the greatest possible help.

The young woman was employed in a department store. The man received only a moderate salary. They decided to have a plain wedding and no trip and own a home from the start. To this end both saved.

The girls who worked with the young woman went to her mother and asked advice in regard to a present. The mother suggested a gold dollar shower. This was given at the home of one of the girls.

Each girl gave $2.

In the center of the table was a jointed doll dressed in dollar bills. On her arm was a tiny basket filled with gold dollars. At the place of the bride-to-be was a “salad,” consisting of gold dollars on lettuce leaves. She was told there were more of the gold pieces hidden about the room and she must hunt for them. The girls called “hot” or “cold,” as she neared the hiding places or wandered away, just as children play “hide the thimble.”

Two brothers of the groom-to-be had the house provided with screens and awnings and furnished the porch.

One aunt provided table linen, another the bed linen. The groom’s father and mother furnished the living room. The bride’s parents furnished the dining room and kitchen.

An uncle of the groom ordered $25 worth of staple groceries stored in the larder. Other friends gave odd pieces, according to the amount they wished to expend. The bride’s grandparents gave her a jewel case containing five $20 gold pieces.

One old lady who loved the girl, but had little but love to give, made a very satisfactory gift at little cost. There are always uses for old linens and odd pieces in a home, and in the home where everything is new these are scarce. So this old lady made up bundles of linens for various uses. Soft pieces for burns and cuts; large pieces with tapes attached for the ironing board; old pieces of table linen in various sizes, hemmed to use in the kitchen for wrapping things to be put away and for use in bread and cake boxes; soft pieces for dish towels, holders and the many uses which only a housewife will appreciate.

A country relative sent canned fruits and jellies. Another ham and other prepared meats, also two dozen young chickens were housed in a neat new coop.

The wedding was a simple home affair. The bride wore a white dress of embroidered voile, which would be of service after. The only extravagance was veil and wreath, and she thought she could not feel ‘bridey” without these. Simple buffet refreshments were served.

There was no lavish display of wedding gifts—they were all in the new home—but, oh, how much more these things meant to that young couple than tables loaded with silver and cut glass.

Plain Dealer [Cleveland OH] 14 June 1914: p. 68

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire: Mrs Daffodil was charmed with the idea to give bundles of old linen as a shower gift. Thrifty, useful, and there is no question of duplicates or exchanges. What would be the modern equivalent—an “Amazon” subscription for paper towels?

We can scarcely accuse the young lady of wanton extravagance for wanting a wreath and veil to feel “bridey,” but hope that the groom prized his prudent bride above rubies. One is optimistic that the sensible young couple lived happily ever after and that the young chickens in their neat coop were the foundation of an economically sound future.

A simple, yet “bridey” wreath and veil for the 1914 bride.

For a previous post on this timely subject see Hints for Bridal Showers.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

Summer Mourning: 1857-1910

A summer mourning bonnet for the young French widow, 1898.

Women readily exchange their winter garments for those suitable to summer; but, under circumstances of mourning, they are cruelly compelled by custom to move about under a load of black crape. It is to liberate them from this misery that the present article is written.

Many widows suffer from nervous headache in consequence of night-watching, anxiety, and grief; and this form of headache is converted into congestion of the blood-vessels of the head by exposure to the sun in black bonnets and dresses . There are numerous instances of widows remaining within doors for months together, to the great injury of their health, rather than endure the misery of sun broiling.

The remedy is very simple.

Let summer mourning become customary. Let light-coloured clothing be worn, trimmed with thin black edging.

There is such an article as white crape; but it indicates slight mourning. Either white crape should be worn as summer mourning, or small-sized black edging to light-coloured dresses; and bonnets should be introduced into general use for the purpose.

The Sanitary Review, and Journal of Public Health, 1857: p. 287

If in summer a parasol should be required, it should be of silk deeply trimmed with crape, almost covered with it, but no lace or fringe for the first year. Afterward mourning fringe might be put on.….

Collier’s Cyclopedia of Commercial and Social Information, Nugent Robinson, editor, 1882

Summer or winter, there was no consensus as to whether children and infants should go into black.

Though it is the custom to put children into black on the death of either parent, no crape is used on their gowns or coats or hats; and in summer they wear white with black ribbons. Children under ten do not wear black for any other relative. Young girls, even when in deep mourning, are permitted to wear white in summer, with black belt, tie, &c.; and for evening dress they can wear white. It may seem anomalous, but white is much deeper mourning than grey; the idea being to wear “no colour” and to attract as little notice as possible. Etiquette for Every Day, Mrs Humphry, 1904

Second Mourning “Magpie effect” toilette 1898

THE MAGPIE CONTRAST

A Pretty Black and White Combination for Her Who Wears Second Mourning

The magpie contrast, which is the name given to the effect when black and white are brought together, is revived with great favor for the summer girl who is entering the second stage of mourning.

A near, but none the less dainty, magpie contrast is here portrayed. The toilette is developed in white dimity traced in swirling design. The tracery is of black silk somewhat raised, giving the effect of the new needle cord, which is seen in many of the nonwashable summer goods.

The skirt is gored to insure a smooth fit over the hips, and the fullness is underfolded at the back. It is sewed upon a waistband of black mourning silk ribbon which necessitates no other belt. Bands of the ribbon in a narrower width than the belt extend halfway down the sides of the skirt. These are caught by a rosette or ribbon or left to fly to the winds, the latter mode being more generally adopted because of its summery effect.

The bodice is made with a yoke of open work, through which narrow mourning ribbon is run. The sleeves are plain trimmed with bands of ribbon and their conjunction with the bodice is concealed under a double ruffle of the dimity. They are tight fitting and neatly trimmed with bands of black silk.

The collar is a soft band of linen finished with a black bow tie and the sailor is a jaunty affair in milk white leghorn finished with a mourning band.

Helen Gray-Page.

Jackson [MI] Citizen Patriot 6 June 1899: p. 3

THE SUMMER MOURNING VEIL

So great is the dislike for a summer veil that many are leaving it off, though others feel more comfortable if the mourning hat or bonnet is properly veiled. For such head dress, the bonnet or hat proper is covered with ordinary black crepe, though the face covering is a very thin black chiffon. While these hats signal woe to the whole wide world, nevertheless they are graceful and to many quite becoming. The shapes are quite different from what they once were and some are really very artistic, though not noticeably so by any means. Wilkes-Barre [PA] Times 25 June 1908: p. 8

For the ordinary run of people, the most serviceable dress is of black voile, and the changes may be rung with the woollen, silken, or cotton makes of it, according to the means of the purchaser. Black cotton voile will be used later on for half-mourning frocks, and it is a fabric that will probably be responsible for some of the most attractive frocks all the summer through. There are plenty with striped effects and floral patterns—black and white, white and black, grey and white, white and grey, to say nothing of all the varying hues of mauve and lavender—but such are not orthodox for immediate wear. New Zealand Herald, 2 July 1910: p. 6

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  Nothing is more trying for the bereaved than the burden of bombazine and crape in midsummer’s heat. Not only is the costume excessively warm, but perspiration often causes the black dye to stain the face beneath the veil, a distasteful and unhygienic situation. There were few alternatives if one wished to be “correct.”

When His Majesty King Edward VII died in 1910, his successor, King George V, thoughtfully shortened the official mourning period.

The King’s kindly thought in shortening the period of mourning by a full month will be greatly appreciated, not only by those who would have had to buy a complete summer outfit of black, but more by the tradespeople whose large stocks, bought months ago, would have presented only dead loss.

Full mourning now is only to last until June 17th, and half-mourning may end on June 30th, so that there will be little hardship in putting off the donning of summer finery for so short a time out of respect for the memory of the late King. New Zealand Times 6 July 1910: p. 11

White mourning was one possibility for the summer mourner, if one did not mind controversy:

“White” Mourning

All-white crepe is now advocated by a New York fashion writers for widows during the summer. She says: “For a summer outfit for a young widow gowns trimmed with white crape, made of white crape, hat with a long white crape veil, a white crape parasol and everything to match, is immensely smart, and, be it added, very becoming.” Imagine such a thing! The uninitiated would surely wonder what a woman so attired was trying to impersonate. She would seem a cross between a bride, wandering about without her bridegroom, and a tragic actress doing Lady Macbeth off the stage.

The aforementioned New York writer of fashions must be possessed of a sense of humor which is, in vulgar parlance, “a dandy.”

There are widows to-day who do not wear mourning as is mourning at all, but at least they do not make themselves conspicuous in a bizarre costume like that described.

The white mourning costume is never likely to be popular until women lose their ideas of appropriateness altogether. Charlotte [NC] Observer 1 July 1903: p. 7

A woman, who is in “second mourning,” hit upon a dainty idea for her summer clothes. She is wearing white this summer, but instead of the inevitable white shoes, she’s “gone in” strongly for gray shoes and stockings—silver gray—and is wearing exquisite belt buckles of silver as the only other note of color about her costume. The silver and white effect is stunning.” The Indianapolis [IN] Star 1 July 1905: p. 9

Mrs Daffodil will add what is perhaps the most vital hint on summer mourning. She has shuddered at white underthings under black voile and can vouch for this statement:

All the sheer black materials may be used, but black muslin or cambric underwear should be worn beneath them, for nothing is uglier than black over white. The San Francisco [CA] Call 10 July 1910: p. 20

One may read more about “correct mourning” in The Victorian Book of the Dead, which describes, among other abominations, a mourning bathing suit.

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.

 

The Eye-Miniature Fad: 1905-1916

Eye miniature with tear, anonymous, c. 1790-1820 Usually the tear is a feature of later revival pieces http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O1067812/eye-miniature-unknown/

Of all the odd fads that have reached New York via London, the latest captures the palm. What do you think miladi is presenting her true love with nowadays? A miniature of her beautiful eyes—eye, rather, for only one eye is pictured. The fad is just now raging in London, and a few smart New York women, just over from a season in the world’s metropolis, brought the fad with them. The Duchess of Manchester is one of them….

Now that the fad has hit Gotham inside of a year—the way fashions travel—it should be raging in San Francisco. Of course the photographers will take it up, and eye photos as well as miniatures will be possible. The frames, jeweled or merely of gold or silver, will be another item. If every man cannot write a sonnet to his mistress’ eyebrow, he can at least present her with a photo of his best orb….

Eyebrows are not necessarily a part of the eye miniature, but eyelids and lashes are. Half-closed lids are significant of indulgence and are a great “give-away” in an eye picture. Dark circles under the eyes are by the Parisian demi-mondaines considered a beauty and they cultivate them to make themselves of an effréné [frantic] appearance, but the bud of 20 or less would not like to see her eye miniature with one of these borders.

The white of the eye should be pure and pearly, which in the fashionable devotee of the cigarette it never is. “Pink eyes” and “red eyes” would be tabu to the eye miniaturist. The eye that gives way to grief is never lovely…. The San Francisco [CA] Call 9 April 1905: p. 6

Many distinguished ladies had their eyes “done.”

In the eye miniatures of today the eye is painted life size and the color of the iris, the shade and curl of the eye-lashes, the form of the lid and the shape of the brown, are all indicated. Queen Alexandra, the Princess Henry of Pless, her sister; the Duchess of Westminster and the Countess of Warwick are among the women who have given orders for eye pictures, it is said. The Saint Paul [MN] Globe 14 March 1905: p. 7

Miniature artists found themselves back in fashion:

[The miniature artist] Mr Williams has “an eye for an eye,” so to speak, in a special and most interesting way. That is in his successful introduction, or revival, of the poetic art of painting miniatures of eyes-eyes alone, as if shining out of the sky or the imagination-to be set and worn as jewels on cuff-links, brooches, scarf-pins, in watch-cases, and the like.

Tie-pin with lady’s weeping eye, c. 1900-10, painted during the eye-miniature revival https://www.royalcollection.org.uk/collection/search#/2/collection/43600/tiepin-with-a-miniature-of-a-ladys-eye

It is in line with the pretty conceit of Count Robert de Montesquieu, who gave a series of ‘‘conferences” in New York one season, and in his discourse on “Jewels” led up triumphantly to the demonstration that the most varied, wondrous, and beautiful of all gems or jewels are-eyes.

A famous eye-picture, perhaps the earliest, was that of Mrs. Fitzherbert, the morganatic wife of King George IV, who sat for it to the great Cosway himself, and had the tiny miniature set in a gold bracelet, which the king wore upon his wrist.

The eyes of Mrs. George Gould and those of her daughter Marjorie, painted from life by Alyn Williams, are worn by Mr. Gould on cuff-links. The same artist has done a marvelously expressive miniature of the prom-lidded, yet keen and kindly eye of the late King Edward. This was what probably gave a new start to the fashionable fad.

A truly royal pair of cuff-links. The one at the left has a painted eye of Queen Mary (top) and of King George; the other one shows an eye of Queen Alexandra (top) and of King Edward VII

At a recent miniature-show in London, many paintings of eyes were shown, including some dating back more than a century, to the time of Cosway. One of the most interesting curios in the collection was an exquisite bracelet containing seven diamond-set miniatures depicting the eyes of the seven children, of a Scotch laird. There was also the melting dark eye of the lovely Lady Blessington.

We have no specific record of the prices commanded by the early English miniaturists. Those of their present day successors are decidedly “fancy,” and Alyn Williams undoubtedly heads the list. His uniform price for painting a pair of eyes is two hundred dollars.

Cosmopolitan, Volume 53, 1912: pp. 667-8

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  As the commentary on an eye miniature from the Victoria and Albert Museum collection says:

Eye miniatures came into fashion at the end of the 18th century. They seem to have originated in France, and were a curious but brief anomaly in painting in miniature. They represented an extremely intense manifestation of an already emotionally charged art, apparently an attempt to capture ‘the window of the soul’, the supposed reflection of a person’s most intimate thoughts and feelings. Often, as here, the result was a compelling piece of jewellery. But sometimes the result was merely anatomical and unpleasing, or uncanny and disturbing.

Mrs Daffodil concurs that the result is often disturbing. One fancies that the lover’s eye miniature might be a sort of witchery, the all-seeing eye watching the Beloved’s every movement… Not a pleasant thought.

The fad continued through the War and even into the 1930s.

An eye miniature by Emily Drayton Taylor after 18th-century miniaturist Edward Greene Malbone, c. 1930 http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/2904?sortBy=Relevance&ft=eye+miniature&offset=0&rpp=20&pos=11

Since the present war began [miniature artist] Ernest Lloyd has been sojourning in Southern California and has introduced the eye miniature among society folk there. It is the claim of the artists that they paint the eyes because they reveal more than any part of the face. “It is a wonderful thing to know how to read one’s character through the window of one’s soul,” declared Mr. Lloyd.

The eyes of Napoleon and Josephine, herewith reproduced, are the work of Miss Minnie Taylor, a well-known artist in San Francisco. Miss Taylor is such a rare soul herself that she is always seeking to find the soul of those with whom she comes into contact; hence this painting of the eyes has had a special appeal for her. She copied the eyes of the great conqueror and his wife from the originals in the famous Wallace collection in London, the largest collection of miniatures in the world.

When the pictures were first introduced, they were then, as they are now, set in gold and jeweled frames and given to friends as little intimate and secret presents, meant to convey a sweet and delicate sentiment. When the fad shall have reached San Francisco, Miss Taylor’s service doubtless will be in great demand for she probably is the only artist in the city who has made a study of eye miniatures.

California’s Magazine, 1916: p. 184

Mrs Daffodil invites you to join her on the curiously named “Face-book,” where you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes

You may read about a sentimental succubus, a vengeful seamstress’s ghost, Victorian mourning gone horribly wrong, and, of course, Mrs Daffodil’s efficient tidying up after a distasteful decapitation in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales.