A fashionable history of the veil — II —Charles Ferndale
The fashions of the day were designed to show a woman to be preferably high born, certainly rich, well connected, and above reproach (virtuous), unless she was so high born that she did not have to worry about her reputation
To be chic was to be safely
in fashion. What was chic in 19th century Britain? In those days, the real outlines of a woman curvature where concealed by complex subterfuges: bustles greatly exaggerated the curvature and extent of a woman’s bottom; tight corsets exaggerated the narrowness of her waist (and so the contrast between wasp-like waists and cloud-like hips); corsets held her breasts unnaturally high and deepened their cleavage, but her breasts were usually veiled with transparent net; the jewellery around her neck emphasised the length of her neck (when possible); her arms were entirely covered with long silk gloves with lace frills; her collars were lacy too and were often bright white; her shoes were dainty and impractical. A well dressed, 19th century, British lady proceeded in a cloud of impractical finery. Sex was dressed up as purity and class. Under the symbols of purity and class, sexual cues were respectably exaggerated.
Let us now explore the point of these fashions. Well, of course there were many, as there always are, but a number of primary interests emerge. Fashionable ladies’ dress was designed to be hopelessly impractical. There were many reasons for this impracticality: it showed that fashionable ladies had servants (servants were needed just to put such clothes on, and servants were needed to launder them, and hang them in cupboards); it showed that fashionable ladies never did anything that might result in even a spot of dirt falling on any part of their clothing (white silk gloves, white cotton lace cuffs, white cotton lace ruffs, tiny shoes in a muddy world), in other words they did no work; that they came from homes with spotless floors (or else the trailing skirts would be soiled; and, once again, for spotless floors, they must have servants); that they never walked in the streets (impossible in such dresses), but travelled only by carriage (British streets in those days were full of mud (no tarmac) mixed with the dung of the horses); a lady carried nothing but her parasol to keep off the sun (it was very unfashionable to be brown, because that meant you might work in the open air). The fashions of the day were designed to show a woman to be preferably high born, certainly rich, well connected, and above reproach (virtuous), unless she was so high born that she did not have to worry about her reputation. In short, the fashions of the day were designed to show many things about a woman, but primarily that she was a good mate. It has ever been thus.
But what about sex? Has sex nothing to do with being a good mate? Of course it has. 19th century British female fashions were all about sex. When are they not? But being sexy is a multi-dimensional quality, most of which may ultimately be reducible to impressions as to the viability of one’s genes. This is a complex subject, so I shall restrict myself to the brilliantly simple observations of James Laver that he made decades ago. Laver observed that if one studies the history of changing fashions, one observes that areas of the female form become erogenous (sexy) as a result of being covered, and sterilised (unsexy) as a result of being uncovered. If you want to make some part of the body sexy, cover it up. He shows that, throughout the history of fashion, areas of the female form that have been uncovered too long become sterilised (unsexy). They are then covered up again, so as to restore their erogenous charge. This fact accounts for much of the history of fashion.
Anyone who has attended a nudist colony knows how unsexy most completely naked bodies begin to appear after only a few minutes. So, what is reckless, daring, chic or passé has to do with current fashions governing what parts of the female body are permissibly shown and how. There is much more to the terms risqué (daring) or passé (yesterday’s fashion) than sexual attractiveness, but sex is the heart of the matter. The Islamist prudes may not realise that by veiling women they are greatly enhancing their sexiness. Or maybe that is the whole point of the exercise. In any case, veils can never enhance modesty. Men just are not like that: for them, imagination will always be more captivating than fact.
One reason for the furore over the veil in France may be because wearing it is just too reckless.
(Concluded)
The writer has degrees from Oxford University and the Institute of Psychiatry, University of London. He can be reached at charlesferndale@yahoo.co.uk
