A glance through previous issues of “London Life” quickly reveals that dear to the hearts of members of the “L.L.” debating society are four subjects, namely: – Gloves, High Heels, Corsets, and Jewellery. Is there a woman worth her sallt who could resist a gossip on such delightful topics?
I am old enough to recollect the bygone fashions, and although my daughter is confident that as a girl in the nineties I must have looked “an awful fright,” I still cling to the pleasant memories of frills, flounces, fans and curves of those days.
What of it, if we were “helpless and clinging?” We had a good time in our own way in spite of chaperones, squeezed in waists, pinching, stilt-heeled shoes, and unyielding gloves.
As a matter of fact, I became acquainted with my future husband through having my waist so tightly pinched in that I fainted whilst dancing with him. In those days, at least three hours were taken up in preparing for a dance or party, and as every girl strobe to be the smallest waisted and highest heeled on these occasions, no fond mother was satisfied until her daughter fainted while being tight-laced, thus proving her waist to be squeezed in to the last fraction.
Make-up was verboten except on the occasion of a dance or theatre, and as cosmetics were not so lasting as nowadays, one had to retire after every dance almost, in order to be freshly painted for the next hop.
Instead of the modern ounces, one’s gown weighted almost pounds, and I remember that for the festive occasions I never wore less than four petticoats.
One’s hair was drawn painfully tight to the crown of the head, and tightly coiled, the higher the pile the more fashionable one became. Who recalls the very long-handled hooks with which one buttoned up shoes and boots as stooping was simply impossible when one had been laced in. And the struggle one had in outing on the shoulder-length gloves.
Is there a girl nowadays who would occupy over an hour in preparing for her morning stroll in the park? The tiny hat tightly pinned into position, the veil, sunshade, and boots, needle, which pinched so much, and had such high heels that one had to have the assistance of a walking stick or better still a gentleman’s arm.
Can one imagine the sixteen year old pillion-riding flapper of to-day in trailing skirts, hair put up, tightly laced until she feels like fainting, on her way to the bootmakers with mother. The bootman smiles knowingly when mother mentions number three as her daughter’s size in shoes, and boldly produces a shoe which is a small number two. A terrific struggle ensues to force the shoe on and eventually after mother has assured her daughter that her feet look beautifully tiny in the new shoes, with such high heels too, the purchase is completed, and the young lady smilingly leaves, feeling as though her feet have been squeezed in a vice.
Again, how many young modern ladies arriving home tired out after a dance would submit to being laced into stiff sleeping stays, and having the tightest gloves forced on before they could get into bed?
Yours very truly,
“MEMORIES.”