THERE are, in the _Dress_ of this people, many singularities, upon which,
he who wished to say every thing that could be said, might say a great
deal. The peculiarity which a stranger would be most apt to remark, is
that of their striving to be as unlike as possible to the rest of the
world. This appears, indeed, to be the parent of almost every other
peculiarity; and certainly gives birth to many changes not a little
ridiculous and prejudicial.
It being a sort of fundamental maxim with them, that superiority consists
in dissimilitude, they become engaged in a perpetual competition with the
world at large, and to a certain degree with each other. In order to
maintain this struggle for pre-eminence, they are compelled to vary the
modes and materials of their dress in all the ways which a fanciful
imagination can suggest. It happens, through some strange infatuation,
that those who affect to despise the man or woman of Fashion, yet ape
their dress and air with the most impertinent and vexatious perseverance.
What is to be done in this case?—Similitude is not to be endured. In
order therefore to throw out their pursuers, these monopolizers of the
mode are compelled to run into such eccentricities, as nothing could
justify or palliate, but the distress to which they are reduced. If, for
example, short skirts and low capes are copied by the herd of imitators,
the Fashionables seek their remedy in the opposite extreme; their skirts
are drawn down to the calves of their legs, and their capes pulled over
their ears with as much solemnity and dispatch, as if their existence
depended upon the measure. So if full petticoats and high kerchiefs are
adopted by the misses of the crowd, the dressing-chambers of Fashion are
all bustle and confusion:—the limbs are stripped, and the bosom laid
bare, though the east wind may be blowing at the time; and coughs,
rheumatisms, and consumptions, be upon the wings of every blast.
This rage for dissimilitude in the affairs of the _wardrobe_, is allowed
an indefinite scope. Unfortunately, as far as I can learn, there are no
determinate points, beyond which it would be esteemed indecent or
imprudent to indulge it. The consequence is, that the _groom_ and the
_gentleman_ may be often mistaken for each other; and he who is
recognised to-day as a _man of Fashion_, may to-morrow be confounded with
_one of the people_.
I confess I have always regarded this part of their conduct as an
impeachment of their political wisdom. I should have thought _à priori_,
that a people who are so jealous of their pre-eminence in society, would
not have overlooked the degree in which dress contributes to uphold it.
Many a Fashionable man must depend for the whole of his estimation, upon
the cut of his coat, and the selection of his wardrobe. A frivolous or
preposterous taste may therefore prove fatal to the only sort of
reputation which it was in his power to obtain. But besides, an
interchange of dress between people of Fashion and those whom they
consider their inferiors, may eventually produce very serious mischiefs.
The distinctions of rank and condition are manifestly matters of external
regulation, and consequently cannot be kept up without a due attention to
external appearances. He therefore who makes himself vulgar or
ridiculous, is guilty of an act of self-degradation; and the fault will
be his own, if he is displaced or despised; since he has renounced that
appropriate costume, which proclaimed at once his station in society, and
his determination to maintain it.
The fair-sex appear also on their part to set all limits and restraints
at defiance. They seem to feel themselves at perfect liberty to follow
the prevailing mode, whatever that mode may be. The consequence is, that
_modesty_ is often the last thing considered by the young, and
_propriety_ as completely neglected by the old. And this latter
circumstance may serve to account in some measure for the little respect
which is said to be paid to _age_ in the Fashionable World. To judge
from the histories of all nations, it seems impossible, that length of
days, if accompanied with those characteristics which denote and become
it, should not excite spontaneous veneration. But if the shrivelled arm
must be bound in ribbands and bracelets, if the withered limbs must be
wrapped in muslins and gauzes, and the wrinkled face be decorated with
ringlets and furbelows, the silly veteran waves the privilege of her
years; and since she disgusts the grave, without captivating the gay, she
must not be surprized if she meets with respect from neither.
A fondness for _amusements_ is one of the strongest characteristics of
this people.—They may almost be said to live for little else. They pass
the whole of that short day which they allow themselves, in making
arrangements for spending the ensuing night. Indeed, their preference of
night to day is such, that they seem to consider the latter as having no
other value than as it leads to the former, and affords an opportunity of
preparing for its enjoyment. And hence I suppose it is, that such
multitudes among them dine by candle-light, and go to bed by day-light.
This passion for diversions renders the _Sunday_ particularly irksome to
persons of any sort of _ton_ in the Fashionable World. A dose of piety
in the morning is well enough, though it is somewhat inconvenient to take
it quite so early; but then it wants an opera, or a play, or a dance, to
carry it off. There are indeed some _esprit-forts_ among the ladies, who
are trying with no little success to redeem a portion of the Sabbath from
the insufferable bondage of the Bible and the sermon-book; and to
naturalize that continental distribution of the day, which gives the
morning to devotion, and the evening to dissipation. It is but justice
to the gentlemen to say, that they discover no backwardness in supporting
a measure so consonant to all their wishes. It is therefore not
impossible that some considerable changes in this respect may soon be
brought about. That good-humoured legislature which has allowed a Sunday
newspaper, {116} will perhaps not always refuse a Sunday opera, or play.
People of Fashion will then no longer have to torture their invention for
expedients to supply the absence of their diurnal diversions. They may
then let their tradesmen go quietly to their parish-churches, instead of
sending for them to wear away the sabbath-hours in some supervacaneous
employment. In short, Sunday may be set at liberty from its primitive
bondage, and exhibit as happy a union of morning solemnity and evening
licentiousness, as it has ever displayed among the dissolute adherents of
Fashionable Christianity.
But to return:—The rage for amusements {119} is so strong in this people,
that it seems to supersede all exercise of judgment in the choice and the
conduct of them. To go every where, see every thing, and know every
body, are, in their estimation, objects of such importance, that, in
order to accomplish them, they subject themselves to the greatest
inconveniences, and commit the very grossest absurdities. Hence they
will rush in crowds, to shine where they cannot be seen, to dance where
they cannot move, and to converse with friends whom they cannot approach;
and, what is more, though they cannot breathe for the pressure, and can
scarcely live for the heat, yet they call this—enjoyment.
Nor does this passion suffer any material abatement by the progress of
time. Many veterans visit, to the last, the haunts of polite
dissipation; they lend their countenance to those dramas of vanity in
which they can no longer act a part; and show their incurable attachment
to the pleasures of this world, by their unwillingness to decline them.
The infirmities which attend upon the close of life are certainly
designed to produce other habits; and it should seem, that when every
thing announces an approaching dissolution, the amusements of the
drawing-room might give place to the employments of the closet. Persons,
however, of this description are of another mind; and as every difficulty
on the score of teeth, hoariness, and wrinkles, can be removed by the
happy expedients of ivory, hair-caps, and cosmetics, there is certainly
no _physical_ objection to their continuing among their Fashionable
acquaintance, till they are wanted in another world.
I cannot illustrate this part of my subject better than by presenting my
readers with the following Ode on the Spring, supposed to have been
written by a man of Fashion; it expresses, with so much exactness, the
sentiments and taste of that extraordinary people, that it will stand in
the place of a thousand observations upon their character.