Many able pens have dwelt on the peculiar foibles of our sex. We have
been equally desired to avoid the two extremes in dress, and the
necessity of cleanliness has been insisted on, “As from the body’s
purity the mind receives a sympathetic aid.”
By far too much of a girl’s time is taken up in dress. This is an
exterior accomplishment; but I chose to consider it by itself. The body
hides the mind, and it is, in its turn, obscured by the drapery. I hate
to see the frame of a picture so glaring, as to catch the eye and divide
the attention. Dress ought to adorn the person, and not rival it. It may
be simple, elegant, and becoming, without being expensive; and
ridiculous fashions disregarded, while singularity is avoided. The
beauty of dress (I shall raise astonishment by saying so) is its not
being conspicuous one way or the other; when it neither distorts, or
hides the human form by unnatural protuberances. If ornaments are much
studied, a consciousness of being well dressed will appear in the
face—and surely this mean pride does not give much sublimity to it.
“Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.” And how much
conversation does dress furnish, which surely cannot be very improving
or entertaining.
It gives rise to envy, and contests for trifling superiority, which do
not render a woman very respectable to the other sex.
Arts are used to obtain money; and much is squandered away, which if
saved for charitable purposes, might alleviate the distress of many poor
families, and soften the heart of the girl who entered into such scenes
of woe.
In the article of dress may be included the whole tribe of
beauty-washes, cosmetics, Olympian dew, oriental herbs, liquid bloom,
and the paint which enlivened Ninon’s face, and bid defiance to time.
These numerous and essential articles are advertised in so ridiculous a
style, that the rapid sale of them is a very severe reflection on the
understanding of those females who encourage it. The dew and herbs, I
imagine, are very harmless, but I do not know whether the same may be
said of the paint. White is certainly very prejudicial to the health,
and never can be made to resemble nature. The red, too, takes off from
the expression of the countenance, and the beautiful glow which modesty,
affection, or any other emotion of the mind, gives, can never be seen.
It is not “a mind-illumined face.” “The body does not charm, because the
mind is seen,” but just the contrary; and if caught by it a man marries
a woman thus disguised, he may chance not to be satisfied with her real
person. A made-up face may strike visitors, but will certainly disgust
domestic friends. And one obvious inference is drawn, truth is not
expected to govern the inhabitant of so artificial a form. The false
life with which rouge animates the eyes, is not of the most delicate
kind; nor does a woman’s dressing herself in a way to attract
languishing glances, give us the most advantageous opinion of the purity
of her mind.
I forgot to mention powder among the deceptions. It is a pity that it
should be so generally worn. The most beautiful ornament of the features
is disguised, and the shade it would give to the countenance entirely
lost. The color of every person’s hair generally suits the complexion,
and is calculated to set it off. What absurdity then do they run into,
who use red, blue, and yellow powder!—And what a false taste does it
exhibit!
The quantity of pomatum is often disgusting. We laugh at the Hottentots,
and in some things adopt their customs.
Simplicity of Dress, and unaffected manners, should go together. They
demand respect, and will be admired by people of taste, even when love
is out of the question.