THE TOILET.
There is no prettier object in either bed-room or boudoir than the spot
where "the toilet stands displayed." Whether it be a shrine _à la
Duchesse_ (Fig. 19) or the simplest form of support for a mirror, it
will probably be the most interesting spot in the room to its fair
owner. Consequently there is nothing upon which the old love of
decoration has more expended itself even from its earliest days, or
which modern upholstery makes more its special study than this truly
feminine shrine. I will say nothing of mirrors with three sides which
represent you as a female "Cerberus, three ladies in one," or indeed of
mirrors of any sort or kind, as our business lies at this moment more
with the tables on which they should stand. These can be found or
invented of every imaginable form, and contain every conceivable
convenience for receiving and hiding away the weapons which beauty (or
rather would-be-beauty, which is not at all the same thing) requires.
[Illustration: FIG. 19.]
Here (Fig. 20) is a sort of old-fashioned _tiroir_ of an exquisite
simplicity, and with but little space outside for the "paraphernalia" of
odds and ends which the law generously recognises as the sole and
individual property of even a married woman. Such articles would need to
be stowed away in one of its many drawers. Instead of the frivolous
drapery which would naturally cover a deal toilet-table, the only
fitting drapery for this beautiful old piece of furniture (of French
design evidently) would be an embroidered and fringed strip of fine
linen which should hang low down on either side. In a darksome room,
imagine how the subdued brightness of its metal mountings would afford
coigns of vantage to every stray sunbeam or flickering ray from taper or
fire! And in its deep, commodious drawers too, might be neatly stowed
away every detail of toilet necessaries. On it should stand a mirror
which must imperatively be required to harmonise, set in a plain but
agreeable frame without anything to mar the severe simplicity of the
whole. There are several pieces of old furniture, however, which are
better adapted to be used as toilet-tables than the subject of the
illustration. Such a piece of furniture is more suitable when it is
divided, as is often the case, into three compartments, the centre one
being considerably further back than the side-pieces. In this way a
place is secured for the knees, when seated at it, and this central
cupboard, when filled with shelves, makes an excellent receptacle for
brushes and combs, and so forth.
[Illustration: FIG. 20.]
The defect of these old _tiroirs_ is that they are rather small and low,
and consequently look best in a small room, but they offer great variety
of decorative embellishment (Fig. 21), and are very satisfactory, as
stands for a small oval toilet-glass in an old frame to match. The
designs too of the brass mountings for door and drawer are nearly always
exceedingly beautiful, and vary from the simplest shining ring to a
small miracle of artistic brazen work. These shining handles take away a
good deal from the severity of decorative treatment which would
naturally exist in the rest of the room, and it is under such
conditions, where form takes precedence of colour, that we learn the
full value of these little traps to attract and keep a warm glitter of
light.
Here is a simpler design for a toilet-table (Fig. 22) which would look
very well standing between the windows of a lofty room. If it was found
that a good light for the looking-glass had been sacrificed to the
general harmony of the room, then a smaller glass might be placed _in_ a
window, just for occasional use.
[Illustration: FIG. 21.]
Some of the old-fashioned "toilet-equipages" are very beautiful just as
they have come down to us. They are occasionally made in silver, and
comprise many articles which cannot by any possibility be brought within
the faith or practice of a modern belle. Still they offer charming forms
for imitation, especially in the frames of the old hand-mirrors, whose
elaborate simplicity (if one may use such a paradox) puts to shame the
more ornate taste of their modern substitutes. Next to silver or
tortoise-shell, I like ivory, as the material for a really beautiful and
artistic set of toilet appendages, its delicious creamy tint going
especially well with all shades of blue in a room. But I prefer the
surface of the ivory kept plain and not grotesquely carved as you get it
in China or Japan, for dust and dirt always take possession of the
interstices, and lead to the things being consigned to a drawer. Now I
cannot endure to possess any thing of any kind which had better be kept
out of sight wrapped carefully away under lock and key. My idea of
enjoying ownership is for my possession to be of such a nature that I
can see it or use it every day--and all day long if I choose--so I shall
not be found recommending anything which is "too bright and good for
human nature's daily food." I have seen toilet-tables under
difficulties, that is on board of real sea-going yachts, where it has
been necessary to sink a little well into which each brush, box or tray
securely fitted; and I have seen toilet-tables in Kafir-Land covered
with common sixpenny cups and saucers, and shown as presenting a happy
combination of use and ornament, strictly in conformity with "Engleez
fasson."
[Illustration: FIG. 22.]
But perhaps our business does not lie so much with these as with the
ordinary dressing-table which is now more used in the modern shape of a
convenient table with a scoop out of the middle, beneath which the knees
can fit when you are seated at it, and with a couple of drawers on each
side. This too is covered by a white _serviette_ of some sort, and
supports a large toilet-glass of equally uncompromising utility and
convenience. But however readily these good qualities may be conceded to
the modern toilet-table it is but an uninteresting feature in an ideal
bower. If the room be an essentially modern one, and especially if it be
in the country, nothing affords a prettier spot of colour in it, than
the old-fashioned toilet-table of deal covered with muslin draperies
over soft-hued muslin or batiste. Of course the caricature of such an
arrangement may be seen any day in the fearful and detestable
toilet-table with a skimpy and coarse muslin flounce over a
tight-fitting skirt of glaring pink calico, but this is a parody on the
ample, convenient stand for toilet necessaries, the draperies of which
should be in harmony with the other colours of the room. It would need
however to possess many changes of raiment, in order that it may always
be kept up to the mark of spotless freshness. These draperies are
prettier of plain soft white muslin without spot or figure of any kind,
and may consist of two or three layers, draped with all the artistic
skill the constructor thereof possesses. It is also an improvement, if
instead of only a hideous crackle of calico beneath, there be a full
flounce or petticoat of batiste which would give colour and graceful
folds together. This is a very humble arrangement I know, but it can be
made as effective as if it cost pounds instead of pence. And this is one
of the strong points in all hints on decoration, that they should be of
so elastic a nature as to be capable of expansion under favourable
circumstances, though not beyond the reach of extremely slender
resources.
I do not recommend draped mirrors for modern toilet-tables on account of
the danger from fire, and I like the style and frame of the
looking-glass on the table to harmonise thoroughly with the rest of the
furniture.