A Brief History of Life in Victorian Britain

by Michael Paterson

  Shawls and Bonnets

  As well as the demands of etiquette, women were constrained for much of the era by fussy and impractical clothing, for although fashion changed as completely during three generations as one would expect, it was only at the beginning and end of Victoria’s reign that a degree of simplicity or comfort was achieved. Intriguingly, fashion came full circle, for leg-of-mutton sleeves – much in vogue in the thirties – enjoyed a significant revival in the nineties.

  During the Regency, women’s dress had been influenced by the French Revolution. In their desire to re-create society in keeping with what was to be an entirely new era, the French had searched history for examples of civilizations whose outlook, styles and political structure they could emulate. They sought in their dress to present a complete contrast with the elaborate costume of the ancien régime, and for this they chose Ancient Greece. The ‘look’ they created spread around the world, regardless of the fact that clothing appropriate for the Mediterranean did not suit the cold and damp of other climates. Dresses became simple and flowing, and the figure was deliberately unrestricted by corsets. Sleeves were usually short, necks and shoulders exposed, and the loose drapery was held in place by a sash beneath the bust. The bows and buttons and lace trimmings of the previous century were banished. Shoes were no longer high-heeled. Women and girls wore simple, flat ‘pumps’, usually slipped on and off but sometimes secured with laces that tied round the ankle. Underwear was minimal. Simplicity dictated a lack of petticoats, and stockings were tied by garters either above or below the knee. Heads were often unadorned (there was a fashion for short, boyish hair). Hats were also relatively simple in comparison with the often huge, elaborate, feathered and ornamented headdress of previous generations. Altogether, the ‘profile’ of Regency women was simple and unostentatious. This is, essentially, the costume worn by Princess Victoria in portraits, and it continued to be evident in the first years of her reign.

  Changes were creeping in as the basic style was modified. Collars and throat-high dresses were seen again, and the waist became the focus of the dressmaker’s skill as garments became tight in that area. Ornament – lace collars and buttons – began to return. Balloon sleeves arrived – close-fitting at the shoulder and wrist but baggy in between. This style, worn with hair tied up at the back or sides of the head, is so distinctive of its era that fashion plates can instantly be dated. For girls, whose skirts were well above their ankles, elaborate drawers that came down to the shoes and looked like long, lace trousers became widespread.

  The Cage and the Bustle

  By the fifties, skirts had continued spreading until it was not possible to support them without the assistance of a framework of hoops and struts underneath. The crinoline, known as a ‘hoop skirt’ or ‘cage skirt’, caused more trouble than any other fashion item during the Victorian era. Though it was, arguably, elegant, it took up so much space that ladies could not sit in chairs that had arms (furniture produced at the time had to make allowances for these dresses), nor could they walk easily on crowded pavements or travel comfortably on trains and buses, and they could only sit down at all by sinking at the knees. Crinolines were difficult to get into or out of (a contemporary photograph shows a woman assisted by two servants), and could be a fatal fire hazard. A French actress died when her skirt went up in flames – an understandable danger given the gas lighting and limelight in theatres – and a German noblewoman, discovered smoking, tried to conceal the cigarette in her petticoat but set fire to it and was burned to death. Considering its impracticality the hoop skirt had a remarkably long reign – a period of almost twenty years. It was at this mid-point in the century, when fashion had reached heights of impractical absurdity, that a reaction was launched by the American, Mrs Amelia Bloomer. The garment she devized as a sensible alternative was a pair of very loose trousers that were tight at the ankles. They could be worn either on their own or beneath a short skirt. The notion did not catch on, except with a small minority who met with ridicule. Where women did wear them they tended to do so under long dresses, and ‘bloomers’ simply became an item of underwear.

  A small accessory was added to the wardrobe of British women when Alexandra, Princess of Denmark, arrived in 1863 to marry the Prince of Wales. Because she had a mark on her neck, she wore a black velvet ribbon round her throat. This – the Alexandra choker – was quickly imitated everywhere. While it was elegant, and added to the grace of thousands of young women, another fad inadvertently started by the Princess cannot have looked anything but ludicrous. She hurt her leg in an accident, and for a week or more walked with a noticeable limp. In sympathy, modish young women began to do the same and the ‘Alexandra limp’ briefly became a sign of being in the vanguard of fashion.

  The ‘bustle’, an exaggerated false posterior that was strapped around the hips and jutted out just below the base of the spine, succeeded the crinoline and it too had a twenty-year reign, until the nineties. At the time it was considered daring, indeed erotic and indecent, though this aspect of it is difficult for us to appreciate. The bustle helped to accentuate the slimness of the waist, though the attainment of an exaggerated ‘hourglass figure’ could lead to frightening extremes. Waists had become so minute – eighteen inches was the measurement to which the slaves to fashion aspired – that some even went so far as to have their lowest pair of ribs removed, and while few followed vanity to such lengths, there were numerous stories of young women fainting from the tightness of their corsets.

  Simplicity

  By the nineties there was a palpable contempt for the fussiness of past styles, and this decade saw a rationalization of clothing, particularly for women. The blouse and skirt became ubiquitous. The latter, instead of invariably trailing the ground, was often ankle-length, allowing its wearer to walk briskly, cycle and play golf or tennis. Skirts were tight-waisted but less clumsy, and less covered with useless ornaments – such as rows of frills, bows or stitched-in beads – than the dresses of the previous decade had been. Blouses were very high-necked (usually worn with a brooch or tie) and had leg-of-mutton sleeves that were baggy at the shoulder and upper arm but tight from elbow to wrist. Two-piece suits were also cut with these sleeves. Worn with a miniature straw hat tilted forward on the head, the effect was very pleasing. Unlike many Victorian women’s fashions, this nineties look can still impress us with its elegance.

  Head-gear

  Hats were an essential item of dress in a way that we cannot appreciate. No man or woman during the whole of the nineteenth century would have dreamed of going out with their head deliberately uncovered if they could afford not to – indeed to be seen hatless in the street would be considered a sign of eccentricity if not downright madness. Women who would wear a hat when outdoors would often wear a cap when at home. These were of cotton or linen, and might well cover the hair completely, framing the face with an elaborate frilled border. Widows and matrons were expected to wear these all the time, though women and girls of all ages favoured them, and they were often part of the costume of servants. Those too poor to own a cap would wear their shawl over their head, and anyone who had not even this would be subject to derision (in Glasgow the term ‘Hairy’ – meaning that a woman had no covering at all – was an indication that someone was at the bottom of the social pile).

  For the first part of the reign, hats were much the same. The ‘poke bonnet’ with its coal-scuttle brim was a symbol of the age. This style could be traced back to the previous century – its shape after all derived from tying a wide-brimmed hat under the chin in such a way that the sides were dragged down to cover the face. The bonnets themselves were elegant, made of straw or any of several types of cloth, their wide ribbons tied in a bow that hung decoratively. Wearing one meant that a woman’s face could not be seen except from the front, and she herself was effectively blinkered. Nevertheless, these hats had a long run at the height of fashion, combining successfully with the crinoline but fading away in the sixties when the vogue was for
small – often tiny – hats that perched on top of the head. Some of these were pillbox-shaped, others were small and shallow imitations of the bowler, and many styles were worn with a veil. Ladies at this time also took to wearing a version of the top hat for riding.

  In the bustle era, women’s dresses and figures were intended to be admired in profile, and hats – which remained small – tended to be long and narrow. They often trailed veils or ribbons. In the eighties, hats were still extremely small but tended to be high and decorated with vertical ornaments such as sticking-up feathers. By the nineties low hats with brims, worn tilted at an angle over the brow and fixed to the hair with immense pins, had created a style that was to continue throughout much of the Edwardian period.

  The Hair

  Hair styles altered in keeping with these hats. When the eighteen-year-old Princess Victoria came to the throne in 1837, fashionable ladies styled their hair with curl papers and piled it on the top of the head, often in festoons above each temple. It was also regarded as modish to coil braided hair into a pillbox shape on top or at the back of the head (the Queen wore her hair this way as a girl). The style that lasted from her accession to the end of the sixties, however, was for hair parted in the middle and tied back in a bun. There were variations on the theme. At her coronation, the Queen wore her hair braided in pigtails at the sides and looped back, under her ears, to join her bun. This was either popular at the time or was copied by many of her female subjects, for it appears often in pictures of early Victorian women. Another widely used technique was to tie back centre-parted hair but to leave extensive, shoulder-length bunches at the sides which were then curled. These had the advantage that when worn with a lace cap or a poke bonnet they framed the face very attractively.

  With the pillbox hats of the sixties hair continued to be tied back, though it might be bunched more loosely above the shoulders. A perfect image of this style can be seen in the painting A Girl of the Sixties (1899) by the Glaswegian artist Bessie MacNicol. With the seventies, hair began to be worn looser, perhaps pinned back but hanging down behind, and in the following decade, with the small, vertical hats of the eighties, hair was teased into tight curls and worn on top of the head. The nineties brought a greater informality in that hair was once more tied back – or ‘put up’ on top – in a bun, but it was not restrained so tightly, and it was not squashed down by hats. Instead, these perched upon it, held by pins.

  The importance of the shawl for women cannot be underestimated. These were worn by all classes because they were both decorative and extremely practical, and they were produced in all sizes and in every material from silk to tweed. They covered the head and shoulders, acting as both a hat and an overcoat, but they could also be used for carrying children, or shopping or firewood or anything else that could be lifted on to one’s back. Though their use was declining as the century went on – by the seventies and eighties elegant women no longer wore them as a matter of course – they continued in use among the poor until well after Victoria’s death.

  Footwear

  Shoes also began to change. The pumps of the Regency, which had been in a multitude of colours and with round or pointed toes, became predominantly black, with toes square or chisel-shaped. Still flat-heeled and flimsy, they were now commonly tied with long laces that criss-crossed over the instep and were wound around the ankle. Worn with white stockings, the effect was extremely attractive.

  These had disappeared by the sixties, as had the poke bonnet, and were replaced by elastic-sided boots, which were de rigueur for women and girls during the middle decades. Like the male version, they were flat-soled or built up with a slight heel. For ladies they were made in many disparate shades, though black, white and pearl-grey were perhaps the most commonly seen colours. They might be of leather (kid leather was especially popular), silk or satin, and were often given a pretty two-tone effect with toes of patent leather. On an adult woman, the tips of the toes would be the only part of a shoe visible under her dress.

  In the seventies high-heeled, slip-on shoes became widespread, as did the lace-up boot. Having spent several decades in flat shoes, Victorian women went almost to the other extreme, for by the nineties such boots had slender lofty heels and sharply-pointed toes. Some versions, especially those seen in pictures of showgirls, came up to the knee. Most were ankle-length or laced up to the shin at the front and were shaped around the calf at the back. These may have been useful for negotiating muddy town streets, but the heels could easily become stuck in tram-lines or fall foul of similar obstacles. Nevertheless they had about them an undeniable elegance that has caused this type of boot to enjoy several revivals. It can still be bought today, which cannot be said for other types of Victorian women’s footwear.

  Though some Victorian men’s styles have survived into the present, female clothing of the era has aroused little envy, or desire for emulation, among women today. Most of it seems absurdly clumsy and uncomfortable, as well as unattractive, to modern eyes. With its emphasis on respectability rather than comfort, and on showy, superficial ornament rather than simplicity – but also because its very elaborateness provoked reactions that took taste in altogether different directions – it is a perfect reflection of its time.

  8

  THE OFFICE

  While a Victorian shopping street might be dominated by the plumage of fashionable women, any business district was the province of men. Even later in the century, when increasing numbers of female ‘typewriters’ appeared, they were significantly outnumbered in the streets by the dark suits and top hats of their male colleagues.

  Dressing the Part

  Clothing made up so much of the Victorian human landscape that it is worth examining in detail. Male fashions – as is usually the case – changed much less than those of women during the era, but a man of the nineties would nevertheless have looked very different from his grandfather. In every era but our own, costume was an important indicator of social status, income and circumstances. The Victorians would have marvelled at our abundance of affordable, quality garments, but been appalled by the perverse desire of many well-off people to wear casual or scruffy clothing. Though often impractical and seldom comfortable, the dress of their own clerical and professional classes lent them an undoubted distinction.

  Men’s clothing was not as sober in the early and mid-Victorian periods as it had become by 1900. The top hat, which dominated the entire nineteenth century, could be grey or white (or even, in summer, of straw!) as well as black. By the end of the reign only the latter was respectable. Waistcoats, an essential garment that no one could think of leaving off even on the hottest day, were of all shades and patterns. Their vivid hues were as much the product of newly available artificial dyes (‘chemical colours’) as were those on the crinolines of ladies. Loud checks, stripes and designs of fruit or flowers were unremarkable. Gloves were a matter of fashion and not simply for keeping the hands warm in winter. A glimpse of stylish young men at the turn of the sixties is provided by the journalist George Sala, who observed City clerks travelling to work through Ludgate Circus. His description deals with the accessories that indicate their wealth and (questionable) taste. He does not mention that their coats might be of sky-blue and their trousers of pale yellow – a display that would be unthinkable by the time their sons occupied office stools thirty years later:

  These are the dashing young parties who purchase the pea-green, the orange, and the rose-pink gloves; the crimson braces, the kaleidoscopic shirt-studs, the shirts embroidered with dahlias, death’s heads, race-horses, sunflowers and ballet-girls; the horseshoe, fox-head, pewter-pot-and-crossed-pipes, willow-pattern-plate, and knife and fork pins. They are the glasses of City fashion, and the mould of City form, for whom the legions of fourteen, of fifteen, of sixteen, and of seventeen shilling trousers, all unrivalled, patented, and warranted, are made; for these ingenious youths coats with strange names are devised, scarves and shawls of wondrous pattern and texture despatched from distant Manc
hester and Paisley. For them the shiniest of hats, the knobbiest of sticks, gleam through shop-windows; for them the geniuses of ‘all-round collars’ invent every week fresh yokes of starched linen, pleasant instruments of torture.1

  Coats went from the cutaway ‘swallow-tail’ to the knee-length frock coat. Trousers underwent many changes in the course of the reign. At the beginning, styles were essentially still those of the Regency. Trousers had ‘understraps’ that buckled underneath the instep and were thus kept taut. There were also ‘tights’ – skin-tight leggings that buttoned just above the ankle and could be worn with a swallow-tail coat (Dickens’ Mr Micawber is described – and usually shown in illustrations – as wearing these). From the late thirties, trousers began to have a single opening at the front – as is universal today – instead of a wide flap that let down. Though ‘flies’ seem an obvious convenience to us, their introduction caused some outrage among ladies, who felt that this reminder of the male anatomy was indecent. By the 1860s the fashion was for ‘peg-top’ trousers, and these are particularly evident in pictures of military uniforms, for the shortness of jackets emphasizes their shape. They were tight at the waist and narrow at the ankle, but baggy in between, giving men of that period a somewhat odd outline. In the seventies and eighties trousers became narrower, and might still – following the fashion for ‘shepherd’s plaid’ that dated from the mid-century, be of loud check. It was also not unusual to have the incongruously military touch of a wide black stripe down the leg. The fore-and-aft crease was unknown, but there was at this time a fashion for having perfectly cylindrical trouser legs, and it was possible to buy wooden sets of legs to place in a garment overnight to ensure that they kept this shape. By the end of the reign the cuff or ‘turn-up’ had come into vogue, though these were not yet a tailored feature of trousers, and men simply turned up the legs themselves – which is why their trousers often look ridiculously short in photographs. George V, whose taste in clothing was formed during the Queen’s reign, for the whole of his life wore his trousers with creases at the sides.