by Iva Polansky
“One the first floor, there is a long corridor with a lot of tiny cells just big enough to contain a little window with broken blinds, a bed, a chest of drawers, and, on the floor, the inevitable basin and jug of water. On the wall there is one of those colored pictures entitled Spring or Summer that you win at a fair and, hanging from the mirror, a little Zouave doll.
“These twenty-sou women are not at all like the terrifying creatures drawn by Constantin Guys, but poor little things trying to ape the language and dress of the higher class prostitutes.”
Moving up the scale of prostitution to the very top, the Goncourts report the following:
“April 7, 1857
“Rose [Goncourts’ housekeeper] has just seen in the concierge’s lodge the night-clothes—or morning-clothes if you prefer—that our neighbor La Deslions sends by her maid to the house of the man to whom she is giving a night. It seems that she has a different outfit for each of her lovers in the color that he prefers. This one consists of a white satin dressing gown, quilted and pinked, with gold-embroidered slippers in the same color—a dressing gown costing between twelve and fifteen hundred francs—a nightdress in batiste trimmed with Valenciennes lace, with embroidered insertions costing three hundred francs, and a petticoat trimmed with three lace flounces at three or four hundred francs each, a total of some three thousand francs taken to any house whose master can afford her.” (For comparison, the daily wage of a maid was one franc.)
(*) Zouaves: Body of light infantry in the French army, composed of Algerian recruits, popular for their exotic uniform.
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Fashion
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A Short Guide to the Ups and Downs of 19th Century Fashion
Fashion is based on volume, or the lack of it, and the repartition of said volume. Nothing illustrates this fact better than the rapidly changing silhouettes of the 19th century dresses. A century that began with a healthy, unconstrained approach to the female body ended with the grotesque distortion of the S-shaped corset.
The Fashion Empire of Charles Worth
When Charles Frederick Worth died in 1895, telegraph carried the news around the world and obituaries were published in thousands of newspapers. His family received telegrams of condolence from European royalty as well as from clients scattered on every continent. His funeral was attended by two thousand mourners, many of them people of high standing. A king was being laid to rest.
Born in 1825 in Lincolnshire, England, young Charles Worth was destined to become a solicitor like his father and grandfather. However, his father's drinking and gambling ruined the family finances and when Charles was thirteen, his mother apprenticed him with a printer.
The job was dirty and boring, and a year later, the boy switched to a career in the drapery business. He became an apprentice at Swan and Edgar, drapers in London. To compensate for his lack of education, young Charles read current novels, and when an errand brought him to the vicinity of the new National Gallery, he often went inside. He studied attentively the historical styles of costumes in the paintings. Certain aspects of fashion, he noticed, came round in circles and this knowledge later helped him in refreshing his own designs.
At that time though, he had no other ambition than to succeed in the drapery business. When his seven-year apprenticeship was over, he recognized the need of completing his experience in Paris, the birthplace of fashion trends. In 1846, with no knowledge of the language, and only £5 in his pocket, he arrived in France. After two years of penury and odd jobs, he became a sales assistant at Gagelin, the best of Parisian mercers. He remained there for twelve years, eventually reaching the post of a leading salesman in the shawls and mantles department.
Modeling the above articles had fallen to a pretty demoiselle de magasin and it was not long after that Charles Worth and Marie Vernet became an item. To display shawls at their best, Worth designed a few simple dresses for Marie and, soon, the clients became more interested in his creations than in the merchandise on sale. In 1850, he finally talked his employers into establishing a small dressmaking department in the store with a team of seamstresses and himself as the cutter.
The department prospered from the start. With his intimate knowledge of textiles combined with English tailoring techniques, Worth engineered gowns that fitted to perfection while taking into account the characteristics of the material. This was a new approach to dressmaking and Worth's employers showed their appreciation by including several of his dresses at their exhibit during the Great Exposition in London in 1851. The dresses brought the firm of Gagelin a prize medal. Another medal followed in 1855 at the Exposition Universelle in Paris. Thus exposed to the public, Worth's work brought an ever-increasing number of customers to the Parisian firm.
By now Worth had married Marie, who was to give him two sons: Gaston (born in 1853) and Jean-Philippe (1856). One would think that following his success with dressmaking, his employers would do their best to keep him with the firm. Yet his demand for a partnership was refused and Worth, justifiably angry, teamed up with another disgruntled employee to open a new dressmaking establishment of Worth & Bobergh in rue de la Paix.
The timing was perfect. The net of railways spreading across Europe and the United States, coupled with fast steamships, brought to Paris and an unprecedented number of foreign visitors. Furthermore, the city was now the capital of the Second Empire with all the pomp and display attached to it. With a continuous round of state visits, ambassadorial functions, receptions, balls, and gala performances, the demand for sumptuous dresses escalated vertiginously. Heading the court was Napoléon III's beautiful wife Eugénie, the arbiter in all matters of fashion.
He aimed at the Princess of Metternich, the wife of a new Austrian Ambassador. Vivacious, although not beautiful, the princess soon found her niche at the court and became a leading fashion-setter. At first, she found the idea of a male milliner utterly ridiculous--at the time, all dressmaking firms were headed by females--but seduced by the album of designs presented by Marie Worth, she finally ordered two dresses. The Empress saw them and Worth was made.
In 1864, Worth got the monopoly of supplying all evening and state wear for the empress and became the most expensive dressmaker in Paris. Following the empress's example, other illustrious ladies flocked to his establishment. Worth's dresses were worn in most Europeans courts but he also dressed the demi-monde. Princess or a highly paid tart, actress, or American millionairess, the Maison Worth was open to all in the spirit of financial democracy.
That a man should see strange women in their underwear, that he should touch their bodies, rankled with the moralists of the era. Enemies were many, but no critique, no moral indignation, could stop Worth's meteoric rise. Never before had a simple dressmaker consorted with the high and mighty almost as an equal. Before an important ball or masque princesses, duchesses, and countesses came to rue de la Paix for inspection. They paraded before Worth while he decided on last-minute changes, on the emplacement of a sash, or the angle of a headdress, and even approved the jewelry. His aim was to create a complete image. His were no longer dresses but "compositions" - too precious to be ruined by a wrong accessory. In an interview, he said:
Those ladies are wisest who leave the choice to us. By so doing they are always better pleased in the end, and the reputation of the house is sustained. Curiously enough, the persons who realize this fact most clearly are precisely those whom you might fancy the most difficult to please. For example, a telegram comes from the Empress of Russia, "Send me a dinner dress!" Nothing more. We are left absolute freedom as to style and material. Not that the Empress is indifferent in the matter of dress. Quite the contrary. She will sometimes require that all the ladies costumes at a certain ball be pink, or red, or blue. And her own dresses are always masterpieces of elegance. The point is that she trusts our judgment rather than her own. In the same way, recently we have received over twenty telegrams from Madrid for ball dresses, and we shall make them as we think fit.
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br /> To order a dress at Worth's was a simple procedure. Once the measurements were taken and a dummy made, the client only had to send in a request. With 1200 employees, he turned out hundreds of outfits a week and, if needed, he was able to deliver an elaborate ball gown within 24 hours.
Each time he wanted to launch a new fashion, he recruited his wife and Princess Metternich. They would go to the races or another notable event wearing the new designs. Such was the prestige of the two women, that no other promotion was necessary.
One of the greatest changes Worth executed was the abolition of the Second Empire crinoline. This absurd cage worn under wide skirts achieved such enormous proportions that the wearers could not function properly. By 1870, the crinoline was gone to be replaced by a bustle. The latter was a padding device attached to the waist. It supported an overskirt drawn to the sides and piled in folds over the bustle. The silhouette was still full but all the bulk was concentrated at the back.
Worth had grown enormously wealthy. He possessed a coat of arms and received guests of high standing in his sumptuous villa at the outskirts of Paris. Neither the events of the Franco-Prussian War nor the fall of the empire and the Commune uprising that devastated Paris had ill effects on his business. The court may be gone, but clients kept coming, keeping him busy to the end of his life. Many other male couturiers followed in his path, but none has achieved the sublime power Worth held over fashion for thirty-five years. He remains the true inventor of the Haute Couture.
Unknown source.
About Corsets
Fashionable Victorian women, whether living in Paris, London, New York or Saint-Petersburg, had one thing in common: they took in shallow breaths. Eating like a sparrow and fainting frequently was the price they paid for an 18-inch waist and exaggerated feminine curves. As the century neared its end, the lacing of corsets became more and more vicious:
It is only two months ago that my employer insisted upon my reducing my waist from 16in to 14in, on the ground that she must have a model to show the newest fashions on. How could I refuse? I know many girls who would lace their waist till they fainted to get a good situation. And so to please these ladies, I am locked day and night into a vice which hardly allows me to breathe.
Ouch!!!
The Hoop Crinoline: Living in a Cage
The corset set aside, one of the greatest follies of the Victorian Era fashion was the oversized cage crinoline. Generous skirts were favored since the 1830s, but the invention of the hoop crinoline in 1858, which allowed women to discard heavy petticoats, gave birth to a monstrosity never seen since. Women suffered discomfort while the cartoonists were delighted with the situation.
The Hoop Crinoline: Dying for Fashion
The Hoop Crinoline: Living in a cage post discussed the encumbrance of this fashionable accessory mostly in a humorous way. Yet there was a serious—one may say tragic—side to the matter.
When the crinoline had reached its greatest degree of expansion, it was extremely hard—indeed, practically impossible—for more than two ladies to maneuver their skirts in one small room. “It was necessary,” remarked a lady of the Empress Eugenie’s court, in later years, “to watch one’s every movement carefully, to walk with a gliding step, and to supply the elegance lacking to the outline by a certain yieldingness of figure. It was not easy for a woman to walk with such a mass of material to carry along with her. But as to sitting, it was a pure matter of art to prevent the steel hoops from getting out of place. To step into a carriage without crushing the light tulle and lace fabrics required a long time, very quiet horses, and a husband of extraordinary patience! To travel, to lie down, to play with the children, or indeed merely to shake hands and to walk with them—these were problems which called for great fondness and much goodwill for their solution.”
Women, moreover, with the introduction of the most advanced Victorian fashions, had become highly inflammable. Though gasoliers now lighted ballroom and drawing-room in place of the crystal chandeliers and silver sconces, candles, and oil lamps were still set in dangerous proximity to flimsy shawls, sleeves, and skirts, and the chronicles of the nineteenth century are full of stories of dreadful deaths by fire - of how the Duchess de Maillé was burned to death at her friend’s fireside; how the Archduchess Mathilde, discovered smoking, attempted to hide the surreptitious cigarette in her petticoat and went up in flames; how a French actress was incinerated on stage; and how Queen Victoria’s daughter, the Princess Royal, narrowly escaped death by the same agency.
Source: Victorian Panorama by Peter Quennell
Sport Events and Men's Fashion
One hundred and twenty-five years ago—and four years before the first Olympic Games of the modern era in 1896—the first long distance course was organized by a Parisian newspaper. It was all new and nobody had the slightest idea how the participants would behave during the 500-kilometers long journey. The vast majority were ignorant of the first principles of physical training. However, of the 840 men who gathered in Paris, about 250 reached Belfort – not a bad result at all considering that they had neither experience nor the comfortable sportswear we enjoy today. One has to admit though that the assortment of jackets, jerseys, naval uniforms, and the variety of headgear, scarves, and bright sashes gave the participants that romantic look of adventure which we no longer associate with sports.
For women’s fashion in sports events, see the Noon Girl: La Midinette
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Art and Literature
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Jean Béraud: The Most Parisian of the Paris Painters
Jean Béraud was born in Saint-Petersburg, Russia, where his father worked as a sculptor. In 1853, after Jean Béraud Senior died, his wife Eugénie took Jean and his three siblings back to France. Jean studied at the Lycée Bonaparte then became a pupil of Léon Bonnat at the School of Fine Arts in Paris. He started at the Salon of 1872 and in 1876 he enjoyed success with his painting After the Funeral.
He became one of the leading painters of Parisian life. From the sweeping views of the boulevards to the intimate twosome at a bistro table, Béraud knows his Parisians. He paints with acuity and often with humor the scenes of daily life in every social setting.
The Art of Crafty: The Spectacle of Paris Streets
When one lives in Paris, nothing is as difficult as staying at home. The city contains so many enticing spectacles, free or paid entertainment, that the temptation often becomes the strongest and that one abandons one's home, attracted as we are by the charm of the street. We do not know what we are going to see, but we are sure we will see something, and that something will be new. Curiosity is so strong in Paris that the trees themselves undergo it and set themselves in motion."
So said Crafty, whose real name was Victor Eugène Géruzez (1840 - 1906). This graphic artist, painter, draftsman, and author of literature for youth, authored several picture albums depicting life in Paris in his humorous style. Let's see how trees moved in Paris (and still do) as well as other spectacles, most of them completely free.
James Tissot and the Women in Paris
James Tissot (1836 -1902) was a painter known on both sides of the Channel as he spent important chunks of his life both in England and in France. Born as Jacques Tissot to a prosperous merchant family in Nantes, Brittany, he decided to pursue an artistic career despite his father's misgivings. He studied at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris and, in 1859, aged only twenty-three, he already exhibited at the prestigious Paris Salon. He began with depicting the Middle Ages but soon moved to the portrayal of fashionable life, where he excelled. Tissot’s name is evocative of pleasing paintings of pleasing people in pleasing situations. In the 1880s he produced a series of paintings called La Femme à Paris. We had already seen one of them—and the story it depicts—in the post Without a Dowry. More of the series paintings follow here.
Paris Markets in Victor Gilbert's Paintings
The sidewalks of Paris were populated by merchants of all kinds. A witness to h
is time, Victor Gilbert painted the city markets with their profusion of colorful flower stalls, displays of raw meat or bowls of steaming soup. His sensitivity to detail is evident in every scene. His naturalistic paintings are valid documents for today's study of street life in the late 19th century Paris.
Victor Gilbert was born in 1860 as an apprentice to a decorative painter. In the evening, he attended art classes under the direction of Father Levasseur at the École de la Ville in Paris. He began his career at the Salon des Artistes Français in 1873. He earned a second class medal at the Salon of 1880 and a silver medal at the 1889 World Exhibition. He became a member of the Society of French Artists in 1914. Victor Gilbert was appointed Knight of the Legion of Honor in 1897 and was awarded the Léon Bonnat Prize in 1926.
