Not Like Grandma’s Pantalettes: 1914

NOT LIKE GRANDMA’S

In the June Woman’s Home Companion Grace Margaret Gould, fashion editor of that periodical, writes an article entitled “Skirts Flare Out–Behold the Pantalette?” in which she comments on the pantalette of today and yesterday and other new French fashion frivolities. Following is an extract:

“Yes. Grandmamma did weave pantalettes and now Granddaughter has her modern critical eye upon them.

“Premet of Paris, who has so quickly forged ahead into fashionable favor, says, ‘Pantalettes are not only to be worn but shown.’

“But let me tell you that the new French pantalettes in this uppest-to-date are as far removed from the pantalettes of the remote and romantic days of long ago as champagne from cambric tea.

“Grandmamma certainly in her giddiest days would never have recognized these filmy, etherealized creations.

“Hers were of the prudent and substantial sort, fulfilling to the letter the now lost mission of clothes to be a covering, and they were only to be exposed on the most scheduled of clothes-lines.

“To describe the pantalettes that Premet shows–those which belong to the glaring Now–is to tell quite a different story.

“The Paris dress openings in their display of spring and summer gowns showed many novelties, but Premet’s costumes brought forth the most gasps and ‘Ohs!’ Such filmy, frilly perky pantalettes, and peeping out with no suggestion of timidity from actual hoop skirts!

“Then there were other pantalettes, direct descendants of the modern tango garter, created just for the dance. In fact, the return of the pantalette to Paris is not so much the revival of an old quaint fashion as it is a dress outcome of the dance craze. From the tango garter it is only a light and airy step to the tango pantalette and the next step after–and this is a stride–is the mannish trouser to be worn with the tailored suit.

“And right here let me say that the new tailored skirt, slit at the sides, and worn with trousers of the same fabric, is a strong swing toward decency.

Lead [SD] Daily Call 14 May 1914: p. 6

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  The “decency” of the pantalette when dancing is a constant theme in the fashion papers. This description refers to the figure above:

These little pantalettes are so quaintly pretty in their daintiness that they do not in any way shock our sensibilities. They are greatly to be recommended to be worn when dancing, for the wearer can move with greater ease than if hampered with a clinging skirt that falls to the ankles. In Fig. 1 I am showing here an entirely different silhouette from the frilled model with which pantalettes are usually associated. The gown is In rose taffeta. The fullness of the silk on the skirt is quaintly drawn In with a garland of pink roses. From beneath the taffeta falls a superposed flounce of exquisite lace, a gray net foundation woven with silver threads, under the lace and falling a few inches below, Is an underskirt of rose colored chiffon then come the little pantalettes; these are made of the finest of cream lace, encircled around the ankles with a wreath of tiny pink rosebuds.

The Ogden [UT] Standard 21 April 1914: p. 8

A new term arose to describe the fashionable and frilly garments:

The Day Book [Chicago IL] 8 July 1915: p. 18

The “Garter-Petticoats”

I have been amused to see that in some of the London newspapers they are giving the polite name of “garter-petticoats” to the new lace pantalettes which have recently been introduced into the world of fashion in Paris. “Garter-petticoat” sounds quite simple and correct, much less eccentric than the garment it describes. This is a very quaint fashion but it is one which has already become popular in smart circles. The new lace pantalettes are a modified edition of the voluminous trousers made of flimsy material worn by Turkish women. Some months ago this curious fashion first appeared, but then it was almost exclusively applied to evening costumes. Now, however, the long pantalettes made of fine lace and chiffon are worn in conjunction with visiting dresses and even in some extreme cases, with tailored suits.

These strange garments are banded in at the ankles and it is considered chic to have them distinctly visible under the hem of a tight skirt. Since I have already done a good deal of fault finding in this article I must now content myself by saying that personally I do not consider these long lace pantalettes suitable for street wear. It has been said that they are intended to give the effect of a lace petticoat and they are arranged as trousers merely to do away with unnecessary material under a tight skirt. As a comment on this explanation I ask to be allowed to use a single, rather rude, word:  “Bosh!”

In the full length sketch which I am sending to The Post this week I have indicated rather successful chiffon pantalettes which were made to match the costume with which they were worn. The model which I have sketched [seen at the head of the post] shows one of the new flounced skirts, the flounces being shaped and graduated in width. The color scheme exploited in this dress was very satisfactory.

The materials were supple taffeta and printed gauze The taffeta was in a rich shade of navy blue and the gauze In a subtle tone of petunia with dark blue roses scattered over its surface The silk corsage was particularly well arranged.  Cut on generous lines it fell in graceful folds over the bust and bloused over the waist band which was composed of navy blue mirror velvet This band was fastened in front with a beautiful enamel ornament which had been specially made for this costume.  This ornament repeated all the tones of blue and petunia shown in this dress.

The Washington [DC] Post 10 May 1914: p. 6

One would gather from the previous article that the London fashion world found the word “pantalettes” too jarring to the sensibilities of fashion reactionaries, not to mention the host of Bishops, who denounced bloomers, bicycles, and the tango from the pulpit, and that, in response, some anonymous Fleet-street copy-writer coined the appellation “garter-petticoat,” which, to be perfectly frank, is scarcely better. However, Mrs Daffodil must refute this monstrous calumny against British anti-pantalettegists: the term is first found in the United States press in 1901, in connection with narrower skirts, and then again, linked with hobble skirts, in 1910.

Under the very narrow gown, banded in at the ankles, the ordinary petticoat slips up and becomes bunched awkwardly about the limbs, interfering with the already restricted walk and making an ugly bulge in the scant skirt. The dressmakers have put their wits to work on the petticoat question for these new extremely narrow skirts, and have at last evolved the garter-petticoat—that is, double petticoat, for there are two long, narrow “petticoats” which—one might as well be truthful—are really shapeless trouser legs of silk or satin each attached to a ribbon-trimmed garter. The two garters are connected by a six-inch length of ribbon, so the feet may never be placed far enough apart to reveal the bifurcation of this new narrow “petticoat.”

Buffalo [NY] Evening News 4 November 1910: p. 16

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 anecdote

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.

Miss Fannie Harley’s Trousers: 1919

Miss Fannie Harley, magazine writer and traveler, in her chic walking costume. It was in this costume that Miss Harley recently appeared in a New York street and attracted considerable attention. Miss Harley in her house costume of blue and white plaid gingham. The suit is trimmed with plain blue gingham bands and with white cords and tassels. Street costume of which yachting serge with a girdle of cerise taffeta and cuffs trimmed with cerise buttons. Marabou around the neck and the skirt. The French parasol is of cerise.

‘Harleys’ for Housewives and Business Girls

Wear ‘Em to Work, Walk Instead of Hobble, Get Around Better, Have Comfort and Ease and Health—And Put Skirts on Bow-Legged, Knock-Kneed and Pigeon-Toed Men.

By Fay Stevenson.

New York, Oct. 8 Young ladies of the business brigade, stop wearing décolleté blouses and tight skirts. Be modest and wear trousers! Now, don’t all blush and gasp until you finish reading what sort of trousers they are.

Miss Fannie Harley 1910-1915 in the street costume that caused a sensation in New York. https://www.loc.gov/resource/ggbain.19904/

Dr. Mary Walker wore men’s clothes several years ago, but they were so very, very masculine that no typically feminine woman wanted to don them. Now we have Miss Fannie Harley, who has come on from the West and dazzles us all by walking down Fifth avenue in a costume of white serge trousers, or harleys, as she prefers to call them, spelled with a small “h.” But call them what you please, there is absolutely nothing masculine about them, for they are made of silks, cretonnes and challis, and trimmed with marabout, chiffons, buttons and roses.

“I don’t advocate trousers for all other women,” Miss Harley told me, as we sat in her room at the McAlpin, surrounded by the most feminine materials you can imagine, even if they were cut in two pieces instead of one at the base. “I can see how the woman who has worn skirts all her life would find it very embarrassing to jump into a pair of harleys and walk right out before the public. But at the same time I think my harleys twice as modest with their round-necked smocks and coatees as the décolleté blouses and ridiculously tight skirts I see. For instance, if I were a business girl, say a stenographer in an officer where there were a number of men, I would much rather appear in a pair of harleys and one of my smocks than in the sleeveless, backless, ankle-binding dresses so many young women wear. Is there any immodest about me?”

Keeps Touch of Feminine.

Miss Harley stood up and let me survey her form head to foot. She is tall and slender, with the firm and supple form of one who has lived much in the open. She wore what she termed her “utility” harleys, which are made of khaki soutache and reach clear to her ankles.

While not the Utility Suit mention in the article, this is the walking suit pictured at the head of the post, with matching hat, 1919 http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/173563?sortBy=Relevance&ft=fannie+harley&offset=0&rpp=20&pos=1

A little white linen smock very similar to our middies came just over her hips and over this she slipped a khaki jacket with a belted effect. Her feet were clad in tan, round toed shoes with a military heel. But Miss Harley’s love of the feminine, despite her preference for trousers, displayed itself in a touch of blue. The harleys were bound with blue braid and trimmed with big blue bone buttons. All of Miss Harley’s clothes match in color schemes. Her smock also bore traces of the same shade of blue in embroidered initials.

I was forced to admit her harleys do not display her figure as much as the present-day tight skirts would. They are loose over the hips and shirred along the outer seam. At the base they measure sixteen inches.

 

“Your modern skirts are one-legged trousers, mine are two,” she laughed as she strutted about the room in a free and lively manner unhampered by swaddling clothes. “Now see how much better a business girl could get on and off cars and elevators and go back and forth from desk to desk and corridor to corridor.

The gingham house costume pictured at the head of the post, 1919 http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/173562?sortBy=Relevance&ft=fannie+harley&offset=0&rpp=20&pos=2

And the housewife could be so much more efficient about her work if she could walk instead of having to hobble. Nurses and waitresses, all women who work, could get about their work so much better in harleys. Oh, how I hate skirts!

Not Limited to Khaki.

“Of course this would be a perfectly appropriate rig for the business girl,” she continued, walking about the room, “but I know right well it is not dressy enough for her. However, she need not choose khaki for her materials; she may have serge or broadcloth, satin or silk, or any of the new fabrics. And as to blouses she may have cerise or any color she loves. I believe in every woman keeping her feminine love of color and frills and furbelows, but I hate to see her incase her limbs in skirts as the Chinese used to bind their feet.

Miss Harley’s street suit pictured several times in this post. 1919 http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/173561?sortBy=Relevance&ft=fannie+harley&offset=0&rpp=20&pos=3

“Now when a woman wants to go to the matinee or to an afternoon reception or just to take a stroll down Fifth avenue, what prettier gown can she desire than this?” asked Miss Harley, making a lightning change from her khaki harleys to a pair of peacock blue silk ones. These harleys are shirred in even more artistic designs than the others. And they are trimmed in fancy silver-toned buttons which are heirlooms of Miss Harley’s. Her blouse is of crepe meteor with a band of Venise reaching to the hips and a dainty ruche of maline at the rather high V-shaped neck. Over this Miss Harley slipped a charming little coatee all shirrs and ruffles with a delightfully long cape collar. It, too, is trimmed with the heirloom buttons. A dainty pair of black velvet pumps and a walking stick complete this frock, giving it a decidedly Parisian touch.

Hats to Match.

If you are wondering about Miss Harley’s hats, they are all the same shape, and she has a different one for each pair of harleys. She is her own milliner as well as her own designer and dressmaker. And the reason she always wears her hats and gowns made from the same model is because she insists that when a woman finds that she looks well in a certain style of hat or suit she should always keep that standardized style for herself. She may change in material and color scheme as much as her nature demands, but she should appreciate what lines and angles belong to her.

One time I met a lady whom I thought was perfectly beautiful,” said Miss Harley, “but the next time I met her I wondered why my first impressions were that she was so beautiful, for this time she was positively ugly, and then it dawned upon me, ‘she is wearing a different hat and gown.’ The first time it was in the spring and she wore a chic little mushroom shape which hid an enormously large nose and brought out her best lines, the next time it was in midsummer and she had changed to a large flat hat which openly displayed all her worst points, especially the large nose. Now, if that woman had only clung to that little mushroom shape, no matter whether she changed it to felt or straw or what shades she selected, she would have always passed for a beautiful woman. Personally I prefer the tam style, only I look well with my tam slightly trimmed. I know that is my style of hat and I shall always cling to it.

“And now if I want to be a real dandy and go to a dance or a social affair I have this.” Another lightning change and Miss Harley stood before me in a pink chiffon over pink satin.

The harleys were not only shirred but slit just the tiniest bit and lace inserted. The smock was trimmed with cabochon and strands of pearls in motifs: in fact, there were fifty feet of pearls and seventeen of cabochon. So you see harleys, or trousers, can be worn and one still retain an enormous portion of femininity.

“But what about coats for cold weather?” I asked. “Those little coatees to your khaki and peacock blue silk suits would not be warm enough.”

“A large cape or a big overcoat with an artistic cape collar is what I always wear,” was Miss Harley’s immediate reply. “I think the dolman and cape about the only graceful garment that women of today wear.

“If I had my way from an artistic point of view I would put all slender willowy women in harleys and many men in skirts!”

“But why in skirts?” “Well,” continued Miss Harley between her giggles, “once I stood on a public corner and watched the men file by and of all the knock knees, bow legs and pigeon toes that were displayed I decided that they ought to hid under petticoats and give us a chance to don trousers.

“But there is one thing I don’t like about the woman who slips into a pair of trousers,” added Miss Harley, “And that is she must avoid all masculine attitude, keep her hands out of her pockets and not smoke cigarettes. My idea of harleys is for comfort and ease and health, but I think every woman ought to be as feminine as she can always.

The Weekly News [Denver CO] 9 October 1919: p. 7

Mrs Daffodil’s Aide-memoire:  Miss Fannie Harley (and Mrs Daffodil assumes that small boys and young men snickered privately at her Christian name in this sartorial context) was well-known as a travel writer, and although she disliked the term “lecturer,” she did the circuit, speaking on dress reform and “The Irony of Fashion,” as well as  “Mexico, Anti-capital Punishment, Prison Betterment, Bird Protection, Anti-vivisection, Muzzling Hat Pins, etc.”

She was much in the news between 1915 and 1919, and, possibly due to her youth and beauty, was treated with less mockery than most dress reformers. She also repudiated that name:

“Do not say I am a reformer for I am simply trying to give the fruits of my labors to the world that all may profit by my efforts.”

“My costume consists of two pieces, an upper garment and a bifurcated lower garment which I always designate by the name of harleys. The upper garment is always worn over the harleys and fitted at the shoulders, falls in graceful and natural lines to a point between the hips and knees and does not define a waistline. The harleys fitting easy around the waist and about the hips, slightly taper to the ankles, and cover each leg separately. The corset is absolutely eliminated. Ridges and rigidity would spoil the whole thing.”

Miss Harley survived into the 1950s, seeing her bifurcated costumes vindicated as working women adopted them during the Second World War.

One of Miss Harley’s house costumes

A gentleman makes the case for short skirts for both sexes in this previous post.

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.