Avoidance of all things foreign does not extend to design. The English shamelessly take whatever they require from wherever they find it. Courtiers travelling abroad bring back new designs and materials for themselves and for their wives, mothers and sisters. They learn more about the new fashions in Holland, Italy and Germany from entertaining foreign gentlemen and ladies at home. The queen receives portraits of Continental royalty as gifts, showing the latest styles at foreign courts. Information about the new fashions overseas is also circulated by dressed dolls sent from France (which can be handed to the daughter of the household to play with after the style has been copied); in 1559–60 dolls to the value of £178 3s 4d are imported through the port of London.10
The result of this fascination with the new is an eclectic style: people mix Spanish sleeves with French gowns and Dutch cloaks. The dramatist Thomas Dekker comments that
The Englishman’s dress is like a traitor’s body that has been hanged, drawn and quartered, and is set up in various places: his codpiece is in Denmark, the collar of his doublet and the belly in France, the wing and narrow sleeve in Italy, the short waist hangs over a butcher’s stall in Utrecht, his huge slops speak Spanishly … and thus we that mock every nation for keeping of one fashion yet steal patches from every one of them to piece out our pride.11
The queen herself deliberately and enthusiastically encourages this magpie-like approach. In fact, she may rightly claim to be one of the greatest patrons of fashion in history. In the inventory of all her clothes and personal jewels in the royal residences in 1600 we find that she has 102 French gowns, 67 round gowns, 100 loose gowns, 126 kirtles, 136 foreparts, 125 petticoats, 96 cloaks, 85 doublets and 99 ‘robes’ (ensembles for specific occasions, such as her coronation or parliament). Additionally she keeps 2 robes, 26 French gowns, 14 round gowns, 27 loose gowns, 23 kirtles, 58 foreparts, 27 petticoats, 41 cloaks and 38 doublets at the Office of the Wardrobe at Blackfriars. It is the variety of these clothes that makes her such a fashion icon. Although she only employs two tailors during her whole reign – Walter Fyshe until 1582 and William Jones thereafter – she has gowns specially brought from France for her tailor to copy; she has four Spanish gowns made for her between 1571 and 1577. She has the earl of Leicester write to his Italian contacts in Antwerp asking for newly made bodies to be obtained for her in Italy and Spain. She obtains Venetian gowns and has others made for her ‘in the Italian fashion’. Many of her partlets, smocks and gowns come from Flanders. In 1569 she has Walter Fyshe replace the lining of her ‘Dutch gown of black velvet with Spanish sleeves’ with white taffeta. She even has a Polish gown of black velvet.12 For a woman who never in her life travels abroad, it is as if she is touring the world in her wardrobe.
Needless to say, the Puritans do not like this fanciful adoption of foreign style. John Aylmer writes of Elizabeth in 1559: ‘I am sure that her maidenly apparel, which she used in King Edward’s time, made the nobleman’s daughters and wives ashamed to be dressed and painted like peacocks.’13 But as the queen’s dress becomes more lavish in the 1570s, so too does that of her courtiers. In 1577 William Harrison laments what he calls ‘the fantastical folly of our nation’:
I can tell better how to inveigh against this enormity than describe any certainty of our attire, such is our mutability, that today there is none to the Spanish guise, tomorrow the French toys are most fine and delectable, ere long no such apparel as that which is after the high Almain [German] fashion, by and by the Turkish manner is generally best liked of, otherwise Morisco gowns, Barbarian fleeces, the mandilion worn to Colleyweston ward [i.e. askew], and the short French breeches make a comely vesture that, except it were a dog in a doublet, you shall not see any so disguised as are my countrymen of England. And as these fashions are diverse so likewise it is a world to see the costliness and the curiosity, the excess and the vanity, the pomp and the bravery, the change and the variety, and finally the fickleness and the folly that is in all degrees, insomuch that nothing is more constant in England than inconstancy of attire. Oh, how much cost is bestowed nowadays upon our bodies and how little upon our souls!
Philip Stubbes is even more scathing in his Anatomy of Abuses (1583). He declares that ‘by wearing apparel more gorgeous, sumptuous and precious than our state, calling or condition of life requireth, we are puffed up into pride and induced to think of ourselves more than we ought, being but vile earth and miserable sinners’. He continues in this manner for 144 pages, railing against ruffs, hats, hairstyles, ‘the strangest doublets’ and ‘costly nether stockings’, sparing neither man nor woman, but seemingly taking delight in declaring that ‘their dirty dregs [should be] ripped up and cast into their diamond faces’.14 The strength of his invective is truly splendid. At one point, in describing his fellow Englishmen, he announces that ‘neither the Libertines, nor the Epicures, nor yet the vilest Atheists that ever lived exceeded this people in pride’.15
If you find such bitter castigations simply an inverted form of pride, then you will have some sympathy for the queen in the days of her most splendid raiment. In his advanced old age the above-mentioned John Aylmer (by now bishop of London) dares to criticise the queen for her extravagant dress. Elizabeth replies: ‘If the bishop holds more discourse on such matters, she will fit him for Heaven – but he should walk thither without a staff and leave his mantle behind.’ As Sir John Harington observes, if the bishop had first enquired as to the extent of her majesty’s wardrobe, he would have chosen to preach on another topic.16
Women’s Clothing
In a dialogue book of about 1600 by Peter Erondell you can read the words of a well-to-do woman, called Lady Ri-Melaine, to her waiting gentlewoman as she prepares to get dressed in the morning:
Go fetch my clothes: bring my petticoat bodies, I mean my damask quilt bodies with whalebones. What lace do you give me here? This is too short, the tags are broken: I cannot lace myself with it, take it away, I will have that of green silk. When shall I have my undercoat? Give me my petticoat of wrought crimson velvet with silver fringe. Why do you not give me my nightgown for I take cold. Where be my stockings? Give me some clean socks; I will have no worsted hosen, show me my carnation silk stockings. Where laid you last night my garters? Take away these slippers, give me my velvet pantofles. Send for the shoemaker that he may have again these turn-over shoes, for they be too high. Put on my white pumps; set them up, I will have none of them: give me rather my Spanish leather shoes, for I will walk today … Tie the strings with a strong double knot for fear they untie themselves.17
There are several words here that might cause you to scratch your head. Bodies? Pantofles? Turn-over shoes? It seems best to deal with these items of clothing one by one, starting with the first garment you will put on after you get out of the bath.
Smocks. The shift or chemise is normally called a smock in Elizabethan England. It is the basic undergarment that has been worn by women for centuries. It slips over the head and reaches down to the knees or beyond, sometimes with a square-cut neckline, sometimes with a round one. Early in the reign you see smocks with high necks that peep out over the collar of the overgarments, from which the fashion for the ruff develops. Smocks are usually made of linen, the quality varying according to your status. The highest quality normally used is cambric, followed by holland; ordinary people use lockram.18 Those who cannot afford pure linen use linsey-woolsey. A high-quality smock is normally embroidered around the collar and perhaps along the sleeves with designs such as oak leaves and acorns.
There is an old tradition that a new husband cannot be held liable for his bride’s debts if she wears nothing but her smock at her wedding. You would have thought that a bride might refuse to get married in church in her underwear, with all her family, friends and peeping toms watching. But it happens. Some young women do have very heavy debts.19
Stockings and hose. At the start of Elizabeth’s reign Lady Ri-Melaine would not have been calling for silk stockings: all ladies of whatever estate have to
make do with stitched linen or woollen hose. But in 1561 the queen’s silkwoman, Alice Montague, hands Elizabeth the fruits of her labours: for the last ten years Alice has been trying to work out how to knit silk stockings. When the queen puts them on, she declares: ‘I like silk stockings so well because they are pleasant, fine and delicate, that henceforth I will wear no more cloth stockings.’20 Unfortunately for her majesty, Mrs Montague cannot knit silk that quickly. In 1562 it is a yeoman of the guard who presents the queen with two pairs of black silk stockings, and he does the same again in 1563: presumably he manages to find a foreign supplier. Mrs Montague triumphs again in 1564, making two pairs of black silk stockings. The following year, having got the hang of it, she knits nine pairs. Very soon, everyone wants them. In 1599 William Lee invents a machine for knitting stockings and other silk garments. Less wealthy women, who cannot afford knitted silk, have to put up with wrinkled woollen at their knees for many more years.21
You will note that women do not wear drawers. A simple length of washable linen performs the necessary function on a monthly basis for both queen and poor girl.22 However, Elizabeth’s funeral effigy does sport a pair of fustian drawers, and there are references to ‘six pairs of double linen hose of fine holland cloth’ made for her in 1587.23 But do these relate to royal pairs of drawers or linen hosen with a seam up the back of the leg? Given that respectable ladies never wear skirts shorter than their ankles, perhaps you will forgive a degree of uncertainty on the matter.
Socks. These are made of linen or wool, but they tend to be worn only by the well-off. Most people cannot afford them – nor can they afford to wash them.
Waistcoats. The waistcoat goes over the head, is tailored to the waist, and may be sleeveless or have sleeves attached. It is a garment for the wealthy, made of high-quality linen, sometimes padded for warmth and support, and often embroidered. If you do not need to leave your private chambers during the day you may well wear just a waistcoat over your smock and nightgown, perhaps with a gown draped over the top.24
Bodies. ‘A pair of bodies’ is the sort of garment that Lady Ri-Melaine is referring to when she calls for ‘my petticoat bodies’ and ‘my damask quilt bodies with whalebones’. They wrap around you and form the right and left sides of a bodice, normally being laced up at the front. They may be short and done up tightly, like a corset, or may be longer and have a petticoat attached to form an underdress. If serving the purpose of a corset, they are often called a ‘corse’, and if laced up at the back, a ‘vasquine’ or a ‘basquine’ (hence the modern word ‘basque’). Bodies may be stiffened with wood, whalebone or clusters of reed and quilted with a stiffer cloth, such as buckram. In extreme cases, horn might be used for strength. The queen’s bodies are made of velvet, silk and satin and even perfumed leather.25
Farthingales. This is a fabric-covered framework, incorporating up to fifty yards of whalebone, which supports a petticoat or gown. As the fashion shifts towards wider and wider skirts, up to four feet across at the hips, light but strong farthingales are required. Male writers joke about them having to be left in the street, as they are too wide for the front doors of houses.
There are two main forms of farthingale: Spanish and French. The Spanish farthingale is already a feature of court life at the start of the reign and spreads quickly through the lower ranks of society in the 1560s. It is shaped like a cone, with wider hoops of whalebone at the bottom and narrower ones at the top. The French farthingale arrives in the 1570s: a cartwheel around the waist and shaped like a drum, with vertical sides. But the style for gowns open at the front, which are less elegant with a French farthingale, means that the Spanish design does not disappear altogether.
Petticoats. Every self-respecting woman wears a petticoat, whether she be a queen or a countrywoman. It is said in 1585 that Englishwomen dress awkwardly because they wear three petticoats, one over the other.26 One suspects the foreign gentleman responsible for that remark has not looked beneath many Englishwomen’s skirts. William Kempe, Shakespeare’s companion, dances from London to Norwich in 1599 and manages to trip up a couple of pretty country girls along the way: he notes that both of them are wearing only one petticoat. Some petticoats are made of heavy woollen cloth for warmth (flannel or kersey); others are of lighter cloths, such as satin or taffeta (if you can afford them). Inventories show that 87 per cent of petticoats among ordinary women are red, dyed with madder; the remainder are mostly black, white or blue.27
Foreparts. There are two sorts of forepart: one that covers the front of the petticoat, and one that covers the stomach, often called a ‘stomacher’. Both are ostentatious pieces that cover the undergarments where a doublet or gown is left open for effect. If you are wearing a round gown, the skirts of which are open at the front creating a triangular gap from waist to floor, then you will wear a forepart over your petticoat. If you are wearing a kirtle, doublet or jacket that is cut low or open at the front, you should wear a stomacher. The queen usually has hers made of white satin and covered in jewels.
Kirtles. As noted above, you can have a pair of bodies attached to a petticoat as a single garment. A variation on this is to wear a kirtle. Rich women wear kirtles with a gown to cover the laces at the back. In such cases, the embroidery of the kirtle’s front is seen through the front openings of the gown. For less well-off women, a kirtle is another word for an ordinary dress.
Gowns. The gown is the outermost garment, covering the body from shoulder to ankle. You might wear it over a kirtle, in which case it will be open over the breast and over the skirts, allowing the front of the kirtle to be seen. Alternatively you might wear it over a pair of bodies and a forepart-covered petticoat. You may come across ‘loose gowns’, which are like long jackets that hang from the shoulders down to the ground and which are loose around the waist, often without sleeves. You may also encounter ‘train gowns’, with trains that are carried by a maidservant. A ‘French gown’ is similar to a ‘train gown’. A ‘round gown’ is one with a round, wide hem, which creates a wide circle around the wearer’s ankles; it is usually open at the front, allowing the kirtle to be seen.
Gowns normally have sleeves attached. The Spanish style is for each sleeve to be cut with a single long slash from shoulder to wrist, allowing the material to fall open, revealing the sleeve of the kirtle. This is a colourful display, for you will see the outer colour of the gown itself, then the contrasting colour of its lining and then the contrasting colour of the kirtle sleeve. Sometimes the kirtle sleeve will be slashed or ‘pinked’ (have patterns of small holes cut in it) to reveal the sleeve of the smock. The French style is for the lower part of the sleeve to be cut close to the arm, but the upper part to be much larger, so at the shoulders it is about eight to ten inches across and stands proud, like a pair of vertical ‘wings’.
Doublets and jerkins. The doublet is an outer garment that fastens down the middle and extends low and ends in a point. When worn without sleeves it is termed a jerkin. Both garments may have ‘wings’ (raised shoulder pieces). You might wear a doublet with a matching petticoat, or an unbuttoned jerkin instead of a loose gown; you might wear it partly undone at the front either to show off your cleavage or a forepart beneath. This is a fashion that women start to adopt soon after 1570 and it provokes the scorn of many Puritans. ‘What are they? Women? Masking in men’s weeds?’ exclaims the poet George Gascoigne in 1574.28 Philip Stubbes is predictably outraged:
the women also have their doublets and jerkins, as men have here, buttoned up the breast, and made with wings, welts and pinions on the shoulder points as men’s apparel is, for all the world, and though this be a kind of attire appropriate only to men, yet they blush not to wear it, as if they could as well change their sex … It is written in the 22 of Deuteronomy that what man so ever weareth women’s apparel is accursed and what woman weareth a man’s apparel is accursed also … These women may not improperly be called hermaphroditi, that is monster of both kinds, half women, half men.29
Ruffs and ru
ffles. In the middle of the sixteenth century both men and women start showing the collars of their smocks and shirts over the top of their outer garments. This little detail becomes most fashionable, and people start accentuating the line of the shirt with a cord or hem, stiffening it. In the early 1560s they start adding small collars or ‘bands’ to the top of the shirt, and by 1562 the most fashionable women are wearing wavy linen ‘ruff bands’ around their necks. These are made separately from the shirt or smock, to help laundering. Normally they wholly encircle the neck, creating the impression of a head on a plate (as Ben Jonson famously points out).
The fashion for ruffs spreads throughout the whole of Europe: everyone who wishes to look smart wears one from about 1565. At first it is a modest item of dress, a long length of linen set into pleats, each pleat forming a figure-of-eight shape; but it becomes more flamboyant, especially after the method of starching the ruff is invented in the Low Countries. In 1564 a Flemish refugee, Mrs Dinghen van der Plasse, sets herself up as a linen starcher in London, catering for her fellow refugees.30 Soon everyone wants starched ruffs with crisp folds. At the height of the craze, in the 1580s and 1590s, ruffs are made of up to six yards of starched material, with up to 600 pleats in them, extending eight inches or more from the neck. The edge may be trimmed with lace or ‘cutwork’ (a form of decorative lawn). In the 1590s it might also be dyed blue to make the wearer’s face look fashionably pale.31 Very large ruffs are supported on a board, which remains unseen as the cutwork or lace edges project out beyond it. Nothing excites the indignation of Philip Stubbes quite as much as a large ruff of the finest linen:
The Time Traveller's Guide to Elizabethan England Page 21
