Showing posts with label The Anatomy of Fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Anatomy of Fashion. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Book Review: The Anatomy of Fashion


It is always a delight to discover a non-fiction writer who can write about history with both intelligence and levity. And although the title of this book "The Anatomy of Fashion" sounds like it might be a dour tome filled with dull facts, Susan J. Vincent brings a light hand to her analysis of how different parts of the body have been the focus of fashion over the course of history. In her prologue, Vincent lays out the parameters for the book as being "neither chronological nor complete," "not a survey", but rather "a series of snapshots "focusing on "one body part at a time". Beginning with the head and neck, she moves down the body to breasts and waist, hips and bottom, genitals and legs, and finishes with skin. Each body part is given a chapter of analysis which includes ample illustrations, quotations from primary sources, and other reference material.

I particularly enjoyed reading the many anecdotes taken from historical poetry, correspondence and records that are interspersed throughout the book.  For example: "The quantities of powder used to dress hair were surprisingly large. Mary Frampton tells us that 'one pounds, and even two pounds' of powder might be put into the hair in one dressing, though she perceptively adds 'or wasted in the room'. From excise office accounts, we know that before 1795 over eight million pounds of starch was made in Britain annually, most of which went into hair powder. Various devices were used to dredge this vast amount of powder onto the heads of its wearers. Blowers and different types of powder puffs were used with various techniques, according to the desired effect and the stage of dressing. The wearer, and his or her clothing, was protected from the resulting fine mist by a powdering jacket or gown, and a mask." (page 15)

Of particular interest to me because of my recent research into crinolines was the chapter on hips and bottoms. The reference to the "serious injury or death that became a kind of occupational hazard for crinoline wearers" caught my attention as I'd read about such incidents but had difficulty finding specific examples thereof. Vincent cites several including the story of Ann Watts in January 1860 whose crinoline "was snagged in the machinery that ran under a workbench at a Sheffield button factory, where she had gone to visit her sister. Miss Watts was drawn down and whirled about the shaft before the machine could be stopped. She sustained terrible injuries to her head, shoulders and spine, and died a few days later." (page 93). Using the examples of real people in her analysis give this book a lively tone.

Vincent does not just dip into history but she analyzes contemporary views on fashioning the body today. She takes the position that "dress no longer really matters to us" as evidenced by the informality which has largely penetrated many of the most formal of occasions (ie., the opera). Instead, she argues that society has become fixated on the body, where fitness is the new corset and tattoos and piercings are decoration. Although this book is well suited as a textbook, it is an engaging and thoughtful read for even seasoned fashion veterans.


Title: The Anatomy of Fashion, Dressing the Body from the Renaissance to Today
Author: Susan J. Vincent
Publisher: Berg, New York 2009
Category: Non-fiction, Costume History
Number of pages: 234

Saturday, October 16, 2010

The Sight of a Woman's Stocking

There was a time in history, not so long ago, when the sight of a woman's ankle or leg was enough to send a man into a tizzy. Skirts were long then and lifting one's skirts was a gesture to come-hither...

During periods in history when women wore panniers, hoops, or crinolines, the swaying motion of these hip-expanding substructures sometimes permitted men to see a woman's stockings. Given that women did not wear underpants of any sort until the middle of the 19th century, it didn't take much imagination to know that flesh began where the sock ended.

One writer to the London Times noted that crinoline wearers swayed and hoisted their skirts in a manner "alarmingly disclosive of their legs" which showed off their stockings. He presumed that these "highly decorated" stockings were "not put on in order that they should not be looked at." (The Anatomy of Fashion by Susan J. Vincent, published by Berg 2009, page 88)

There are several exquisite pairs of highly decorated stockings in the Bata Shoe Museum's current exhibition of socks and stockings called "Socks: Between You and Your Shoes". 

P96.0101 17th Century Stockings, possibly Spanish
Collection of the Bata Shoe Museum c2010
This glorious pair of stockings made with red dyed silk threads and silver and gold gilt thread was probably made to be worn by a child from a very wealthy family. Red was the most expensive dye during the 17th century.

Apparently, Queen Elizabeth I is said to have declared that she would never again wear linen hose after trying on a pair of Spanish silk stockings. Finely knit silk stockings from Spain were highly coveted for their quality. (Knitting was introduced into Europe by the Moors who ruled Spain from the 8th to the 15th centuries.)

P97.011 English socks, shoes and French buckles, mid 18th century
Collection of the Bata Shoe Museum, c2010

Imagine this pretty pair of robin's egg stockings peaking out from a dress worn by either Marie Antoinette or Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire. Are they not exquisite?

And yet the derogatory English term 'blue stocking' actually describes women who preferred intellectual pursuits instead of fashion. Even so, this pair of blue silk stockings would have been extremely fashionable.  They are a very fine example of machine-made hosiery with the luxurious silver embroidery at the ankle (called a clock) would have been appropriate for a finely dressed 18th century woman.


The Bata Shoe Museum's exhibit Socks: Between You and Your Shoes continues until February 2011.

Photos provided courtesy of the Bata Shoe Museum and are under copyright.