Before I begin today's push to finish the first draft of TREACHERY IN TIME (due out October of this year) I'd like to take a few moments to regale you with some unusual items from the past.
Thanks to Dr. Lucy Worsley for the idea: her post on FB this morning inspired me to recall, and research (of course) other peculiar items, particularly those associated with clothing and dress, from our collective past.
When you've read this blog post, do comment, and do let me know if you have any particular favorite oddities from past centuries. You can email me, too, at DLC18thcentury@gmail.com.
When I, as an historical costumier/interpreter dress in my re-created period clothes, I often do not realize that, authentic as the dresses and accessories may be, they still benefit from modern technology. My side button boots, for example, have elastic loops that stretch easily around the corresponding button. My dresses usually have invisible zips up the back; those that lace generally employ lightly elasticized lacing, because since I dress myself 99% of the time, I need to be able to get in and out of the dress independently, yet still have it 'snap to' the required proper shape when I'm finished.
So some of the items found in the proverbial 'great granny's closet' may prove dauntingly unidentifiable, at least at first.
Let's begin with this item:
Anyone know what this is? It's a great example, thanks to LangAntiques.com (check out their stuff, it's great!) of a Victorian Châtelaine--the accessory, not the person.
Ah yes, my past as a Mediaeval Linguist rears its head now, and I'll tell you that a Châtelaine, a French term, used to refer to the Lady of the Castle--you can see the Old French word for Castle, Chastel, in Châtelaine; it is from this same root word that we have the modern French word, Château.
(By the way, the little circumflex over the 'a' indicates that in Old French the 'a' was followed by an 's' which was pronounced. This 's' along with its corresponding sibilance, disappeared over time, but in writing, the 's' became a circumflex, placed over the preceding vowel. Fascinating, huh? This is the kind of stuff that I adore.)
Ok, back to the Victorian Châtelaine. The Lady of the House in Victorian times, or in grand homes, the Housekeeper, would routinely clip a Châtelaine to her belt. From it hung numerous items the woman might need during the course of the day: a measuring tape, a magnifying glass, a small pair of scissors, and various keys would be typical. Back in the Middle Ages, the Châtelaine had its start as a humble key ring, on which all the keys for the gates, doors and stores of the Castle were hung. By Victorian times, although the Housekeeper or Lady of the House would have certainly carried a few keys on her Châtelaine (like those for the wine cellar, the silver chest and possibly the stores cupboard), she also carried other items.
The items on a Lady's Châtelaine indicated the woman's status and position. Titled Ladies with maids had no need to wear Châtelaines, although some undoubtedly did so to affect a need and purposeful place in the household. The Châtelaine above would have been worn by someone of quite high status: on it, left to right, are a magnifying glass (useful when reading or possibly sewing); a perfume bottle (for touching up one's scent during the day or should a guest arrive for a visit); a button hook (for doing up boot buttons); a multi purpose, genteel version of a Swiss Army Knife with a small blade and a pair of scissors (for numerous little jobs); and finally, a mirror/compact (for checking ones appearance).
Aside from the button hook and the knife/scissors, these items are purely luxury or convenience tools a lady of leisure would wish to have handy. Unlike the Queen of England, women in Victorian times did not carry around a handbag with a few essential things inside.
Which brings me to another question: did Queen Victoria, perhaps, wear a Châtelaine? I'll have to check.
The button hook and the knife/scissors would more likely be on a Lady's Maid's or Housekeeper's Châtelaine: their presence here may just be accidental, or it could indicate a Lady of the House who was of a somewhat lower station and thus more involved with mundane tasks like buttoning shoes and clipping thread or ribbon.
Our next oddity from the past is the 'poissarde.' Anyone know what that might be? The root of the word is from 'poisson' which is French for 'fish.' And a 'poissarde' means a 'fishwife.' The term came to be used in the later 18th century for a style of earring we today call 'fish hook,' although to my eye, the 18th century versions were much more elaborate.
French fishermen's wives began wearing this style of earring, fashioned in the style of fish hooks, during the French Revolution. The look caught on even outside of France and became a symbol of support for the Revolution, even though many women who wore this type of earring possibly were unaware of that.
Although well-bred women generally did not wear earrings except for dressy or formal occasions, or when they were at Court, the popularity of the poissarde opened the fashion door, as it were, for the drop earring styles, of all sizes and in a variety of metals and gemstones, of the 19th century and beyond.
Ok, one final oddity:
Anyone know what this is?
Again, my thanks to Dr. Worsley for bringing this item (although not this specific example) to my attention. This was used in Victorian times, and is directly related to the style of dress of that period as well as to the activities in which women had begun to engage in that time.
It is a skirt lifter, or dress lifter, and was used when ladies' trained dresses could get in the way of an activity: dancing, certainly, but even cycling or playing a sport like badminton or croquet.
I cannot recall seeing anyone ever use a skirt lifter in any period drama I've ever watched. Some have excellent historic costume research teams and generally get the look spot on, so it is curious that this item has never made an appearance, at least that I can recall.
The skirt lifter was attached by a ribbon through the ring to the wearer's waist, I have learned, and the bottom clips, which were padded, grabbed and held onto the train of the dress, or the side of the skirt, to raise it to a height where it would be less cumbersome. Having lifted my own trained and skirted period costume dresses with my hands, I am well aware of how heavy some gathered material can be: the accessory above does not appear, to me, to be able to handle the weight. Similarly, putting a ribbon around one's waist and threading it through the ring seems a peculiar way to hold onto the skirt lifter.
Modern wedding dresses often have a loop sewn at the back underside of the train or skirt, which can then be slipped over the bride's wrist when she dances, to avoid tripping on the length of fabric. This seems more logical to me, but if the skirt lifter had been fitted to the wearer's wrist rather than her waist, it might have rendered that wrist/hand/arm somewhat un-useable (what with the big fishtail of fabric flopping around with its every move).
I also wonder if skirt lifters perhaps didn't effectively hold heavier skirts and trains, or perhaps tore more delicate ones.
So while I applaud the ingenuity in designing the Victorian skirt lifter (and it is a later Victorian item, because that was the period, say 1885 to around 1914 when women's activities became more varied and athletic), I don't wonder that it had a relatively short success.
Perhaps because of the clash between Victorian trained gowns and women's increasing desire for mobility, the skirt lifter arrived, met with lukewarm success, and was replaced by fashion eliminating the train (and then the bustle), and shortening the skirt.
So there you have three examples of odd things from our historical clothing past. Life centuries ago was very different in many tiny and discrete ways, ways that are constantly surprising and teaching me as I continue to research those long ago centuries.
I hope you've enjoyed this peek into the past.
And now--I must get on with TREACHERY IN TIME.
