Lastly, let us hear the opinion of a lady artist. Madame Starr
Canziani--for years one of the best known lady exhibitors at the Royal
Academy, to whom we owe the following designs--writes as follows:--
[Illustration: DESIGN FOR A TENNIS DRESS.]
MADAME STARR CANZIANI.
3, Palace-green, W.
SIR,--I have been asked to give my opinion of modern dress, its merits
and demerits, from an artist's point of view. It seems to me that while
much at the present time is picturesque and quaint in the extreme, the
highest laws of beauty demand fitness as well, and while we have no
fixed principles to guide our fashions, however beautiful and sensible
they may happen to be at any given moment, there must always be the
danger that at the next moment they may relapse into the inconvenient
and ridiculous.
Considering how much has been done of late years to encourage all other
forms of art, I cannot help wondering why in the Art Schools now
existing all over the country, no classes have been instituted in which
the principles of hygiene and fitness, harmony of colour, proportion,
and beauty are taught. Architecture and decorative design are taught in
the schools, but dress, which has existed since the world began, has no
guiding laws, and sways from the severely ugly and matter-of-fact to the
wildest extravagance of form and colour in a manner truly grotesque,
were it not so sad to those who love ideal beauty, and whose eyes are
daily outraged by flagrant sins against the laws of beauty and common
sense.
There never was a time in which there was a greater abundance and
variety of materials, rich and simple, exquisite embroideries, and
lovely combinations of colour; but of what avail are all these beautiful
materials if they are erroneously employed? At the present moment--alas!
that we only dare speak for the absolute moment--some of the forms of
dress are, on the whole, simple and practical, and express the natural
figure fairly well; but who can say what wild vagaries the next caprice
of the fashion-giver may bring forth?
If the laws of health and beauty were more generally understood, would
it be possible that such enormities could exist as tight lacing, and
high heels, and pointed toes? I am far from holding in abhorrence all
corsets whatever. There are few figures which can do entirely without
some stay; but tidiness and a neat, well-fitting gown are very different
things from the walking hour-glass that seems as if it would snap in two
at a touch.
[Illustration: DESIGN FOR A BALL DRESS.]
But though the stay, when properly used, may be upheld, there is nothing
that can be said in excuse of the wicked fashion--wicked, because the
cause of much deformity and disease--of the high heel and pointed toe.
We all know the mischief done by the very high heel, and from an
artistic point of view it is to be condemned, making, as it does, the
prettiest foot look like a hoof and destroying all freedom and dignity
of gait. The pointed toe distorts the foot from its natural shape and
gives the idea of the front claw of a vulture protruding from the gown,
and while it miserably fails in making the foot look small, succeeds
only too well in making it hideous. If one sees the whole foot, its
width appears very much greater than it really is, by contrast with the
point, and the joint of the big toe is brought into most aggressive
prominence. If one sees only the end of the shoe peeping from under the
dress, in many cases the point with its rapidly diverging lines suggests
that the foot hidden by the gown _may_ continue to any width, however
enormous.
With the square-toed shoe, on the contrary, one has a fair idea of the
whole width of the foot at once. It cannot go much beyond that, and the
ideas of discomfort and pain are not constantly forced into one's mind.
Characteristic dresses of the period are the riding habit and
tailor-made gown. I humbly confess that I dislike them both, for while
they are simple, practical, plain, neat, warm, and on a slender
unexaggerated figure, modest--they fail in the quality of womanliness,
and therefore cannot be beautiful.
They are not womanly in sentiment. First because (a reason which has
little to do with the scope of this letter) a woman's clothes should be
made by a woman only, and all who are loyal to their own sex would
employ each other in an occupation so feminine.
Then they are unwomanly because they imitate men's dress, and I don't
know that I should make a sin of this, were it not that at the present
time men's dress is too truly hideous to be imitated even by a savage of
darkest Africa!
It is for this reason that I find the riding habit so ugly and
inartistic. Practical it is, but it apes the coat and the hat (!) of the
man, and now that his cardboard shirt and collar are often added, I have
no words strong enough that I may use to express the depths of my
dislike.
I do not agree with the general opinion that a good-looking woman never
looks so well as on her horse. If she do look well, I believe it to be
in spite of her habit and not because of it, and that all the charm
which a well-cut, appropriate, and simple garment can give to a graceful
figure could perfectly well be retained, and yet that slightly more
liberty might be allowed as to texture of material and colour (though
the colour should always be quiet and mellow) and appropriate
ornamentation by braiding the body and sleeves of the habit. By these
means its hard severity would be somewhat softened, and without
destroying the simple lines it would be rendered more feminine, and the
fitness of the garment for its purpose would by no means be interfered
with.
My objection to tailor-made gowns is that they give no scope for
graceful, natural movement. In these the figure is made to fit the
dress, and not the dress the figure, and if the wearer lift her arm
above her head she must burst--or one feels that, having originally
begun as a human being, well, she _ought_ to burst if she doesn't. I am
not fond of inventing sins, and think we already have enough for all our
needs, and I cannot see--to save my life I cannot see--the harm of
moving if one wants to do so. The whole costume is a failure so far as
beauty and picturesqueness are concerned, but it claims to be practical,
and if there were only a little more room in it for all the purposes of
life I should say it succeeded well.
It also succeeds in something else. It paints truly the character of the
women of the age. Matter-of-fact, sharp, full of common sense, with an
eye to the main chance they are, and their tailor-made gowns express
this most clearly. Not much room seemingly is there for romantic or
motherly love, for devotion and self-sacrifice, in those tightly-fitting
cases.
How different are the women of Sir Joshua Reynolds' time! Delicate,
ethereal creatures, with swaying, soft movements, not fit for this hard
every-day world. These exquisite beings went out in thinnest of evening
shoes into the wet grass. They never wore anything more practical than
soft white satin, even in a thunderstorm, and they _never_ saw the
thunderstorm coming. They knew not of homespun nor of heavy boots, and
when their true loves went to the wars, they did not wait until they
came back, but went into consumption and died. At least many of them
did, though some lived to be our great-grandmothers.
At any rate it was the proper thing to do in those days, and it is not
the proper thing now. No--our maidens no longer faint, and pine, and
die, nor do they wait either--they marry someone else!
I confess to a feeling of wonder when I look at Sir Joshua Reynolds and
Romney's beautiful women. I wonder how they are going to get away from
the pedestal or tree against which they are leaning without distressing
very much their soft draperies when they move. But--how tender, how
graceful, how refined, how fascinating, how pure and faithful and
womanly these gentle beings are! Their dresses were the outcome of the
character and customs of the period, but although very feminine and
beautiful were not practical, and would not be adapted to our present
needs.
And this brings me to what I want to ask. What constitutes fitness and
womanliness in dress? Do the dresses of the period possess these
qualities? I certainly think not always, and without fitness and
womanliness no dress can be artistically beautiful.
To be beautiful, it should be the expression of a beautiful mind, a
beautiful body, and of perfect health and ease, and of natural delight
in movement.
Also, it should have no association with pain.
No dress can be beautiful that is disfigured by an innocent animal
wantonly sacrificed to the vanity and egotism of the wearer.
What womanly woman would wear real astracan on her jacket (if she knows
_what_ real astracan is), or the corpses of gulls, doves,
humming-birds, swallows, &c., in her hair? No one with a heart could do
it, or, having a heart, the brain must be wanting which would enable her
to think of the unjustifiable cruelty to which she gives her sanction.
If I were a man, nothing would induce me to marry a girl who would wear
a bird in her hat. I should think: "Either she is selfish and cold, and
through life would sacrifice everything to her own vanity or interests,
or else she has so little mind and judgment that she would be ill able
to conduct the affairs of life with discretion."
I should say that never was a pretty face rendered one whit the prettier
by the body of a dead animal above it, but that on the contrary the
attention is distracted from the living beauty beneath, and the mind is
saddened and disgusted by the association of cruelty, and death, and
decay, with the tender and beautiful womanhood which should rightly only
call forth deepest feelings of admiration and respect.
From these examples it would appear that unless restrained by more
general knowledge of guiding principles, dress, as hitherto, will always
err by the want of some one necessary quality or another, be it that of
beauty or of utility, or by indulgence in the vulgar, masculine, or
grotesque.
How lately have we been subjected to the most illogical treatment of
fine materials. Magnificent velvets and brocades cut up into "panels" of
all sizes and all shapes, expressing nothing unless deformity. Tapering
"gores" put wide end up on the skirt, or crossways, or any way except
one in which they might help to express the shape--if the human form
could be expressed by patches! Add to these the folds gathered into the
aforesaid panels across, sideways, upside down, and the hump behind in
the wrong place, and the hats like a huge dish stuck on in front with
nothing behind, so that the wearer looks as if she must topple forward
for want of balance, and we wonder what the good of civilisation and
education can be if they only bring us to this. Truly, that savage in
Africa can have little to learn from us in the way of adornment.
[Illustration: DESIGN FOR A TEA GOWN.]
Still, we must thankfully acknowledge that at the present moment,
amongst the better classes, there is much that is ideal in dress. How
simple and how lovely are some of the afternoon gowns, how picturesque
the hats and cloaks, and what romances of colour and form may one not
find among tea and evening gowns? The tea gown especially lends itself
to grace of line and beauty of colour and material.
I should like, before concluding, to say a few words about the most
beautiful dress of all times and countries--the Greek. I cannot see why
it should not be adopted in England for evening dress, or at any time
when the wearer is not exposed to wind and weather. Then, I am fain to
confess, the clinging, voluminous draperies and the long skirts would be
sadly in the way, and be no longer practical nor beautiful. But I do
think that the _principles_ governing classical Greek dress should be
our guide in all costume. Our garments should be garments with a meaning
and a purpose. We should never contradict Nature's simple lines by false
protuberances or exaggerations. To be beautiful, clothes should, by
their shape, express the figure underneath; any cutting about of
material a manner as to contradict the natural lines of the shape must
be wrong. If the figure be ungainly, the lines of the dress should be
so discreetly managed as to apparently lessen its defects and suggest
better proportions to the eye.
The gown should also be in harmony with the character of the mind and
form of the wearer, and while quaintness of cut and even frippery (in a
sense) may be appropriate to a merely pretty woman, and, discreetly
used, may give interest to a plain one, only the very simplest and most
flowing forms are worthy of the noblest type of beauty. No one could
imagine the Venus of Milo in ribbons or frills, but wrap her in a sheet
and her beauty will still dominate the world.
Dress need not be Greek in form to be Greek in spirit. I think we only
need look, and we shall find the following noble qualities in Greek
dress:--Fitness and honesty, simplicity, modesty, and dignity.--I am,
Sir, your truly,