Author Archives: Janet Mullany

Stuff About Stays

Updated on August 28, 2014 by Janet Mullany

I found an intriguing article on the Historic Royal Palaces blog, The Making of the Modern Bra.

We know that women made little home-made linen or cotton bodices to lift and define their breasts for the new-style dresses. There was no elastic and no underwiring as yet, so these women cut and shaped the fabrics they had to hand, and used lacing to pull the fabric in for extra hold … for a brief time, at the turn of the 19^th century, there was a little golden age of home-made undergarments that can claim to being the first British bras as we know them today.

The article claims that staymakers were caught by surprise at the fashion revolution of the 1790s when the line, fit, and even the fabrics of gowns took a radical turn. Thus women took it upon themselves to cobble together undergarments that would work–essentially what New York socialite Mary Phelphs Jacobson did in 1913 when she needed something to wear under a (somewhat?) transparent evening gown. She used handkerchiefs, lace and cord, and patented the item a year later. I have to admit that bra research gets a bit murky as someone named Marie Tucek patented her “breast supporter” in 1893.

So the questions of the day:

Did late Georgian staymakers have to scramble to catch up with fashions, and
where are the extant early handmade “bras”?

A dedicated French staymaker hard at work.

To the first question, I say no. I don’t think they did. Any smart staymaker would have been keeping his/her eye on what was going on with les francais. I did a search on the Bath Chronicle archives (1770-1800), which are part of the astonishing Bath Archives, a fantastic ~~timesuck~~ research source. I searched on staymakers and found that business seemed to be booming, if not downright cutthroat in July of 1792:

13 Aug 1789 Fashion: Mr F Albrecht, French staymaker, 12 Miles Court, just returned from London with newest fashions of stays, corsets & riding stays.

26 Jul 1792 Employment: 8 journeyman staymakers required by a Master of Bath, London wages offered. Wm Driver, French staymaker, Trim Gate, Borough Walls

5 Jul 1792 Fashion: 8 journeyman staymakers wanted immediately, London wages, apply to several Masters in Bath. Will be protected from molestation & obstruction by previous employees. Fra. Allwright, French staymaker, Green St, Bath

19 Jul 1792 Employment: journeyman staymakers wanted – by several Masters in Bath, London wages. They will prosecute those inclined to obstruct those inclined to serve. H Tanton, French staymaker, 1 Quiet St on behalf of the Masters. Also apprentice wanted.

26 Jul 1798 Fashion: Francis Troei, staymaker (successor to Mr Loons) 18 Union Psge [Bath] has newest fashions in stays, corsets and new invented corset “la garlisle”. Orders Mr Philpot, perfumer, Bristol or Mrs Philpot, Hotwells

21 Nov 1799 Fashion: Geo Sykes, staymaker of 10 Abingdon Bldgs, Northampton St, Bath has the newest fashions executed to satisfaction. Good home-made stays for servants & working women 1 guin/pr. Sykes also carries on an umbrella manufactory

I included that last one because I thought it was interesting that the enterprising Mr. Sykes branched out into umbrellas, a natural expansion with whalebone and canvas to hand, and that he was making ready-made stays for working women. In another ad in the previous year he warned patrons that his 1-guinea stays were available for “ready money only.”

So calling costume historians. Should our heroines sit at home embroidering their own brassieres? Maybe they did; there’s a reference in a short story by Mrs. Gaskell that claims it was fashionable to make your own shoes at the turn of the century too, but I’ve never found it referenced elsewhere (but then I’ve never really looked). And unless staymakers included some sort of identifying label or mark, and the genteel amateurs embroidered their initials into their garments, how would we tell?

And what is a corset “la garlisle?”

Posted in Research | Tagged Bath Chronicle, corsets, staymakers | 4 Replies

Figures that dress and undress

Updated on August 21, 2014 by Janet Mullany

Other than your hero/heroine, that is…

Today I’m talking about paper dolls of the Regency period, but not the fashion figures that originated in France and were adopted by dressmakers and their clients, and their clients’ children in the 1790s. Paper dolls specifically for children were created and published by Samuel and Joseph Fuller in a series of paper doll booklets–figures that dress and undress–and sold at their shop The Temple of Fancy on Rathbone Place in London. Attracting an upperclass clientele, the shop also sold prints and painting materials and supplies.

In mediocre rhyme, the books told an improving story with a hand-colored paper doll, outfits only, with a moveable head at the end of the book. Hours of fun and instruction! Here’s an overview of The History of Little Fanny: Exemplified in a Series of Figures (1810) and you can play online paper dolls with Fanny here.

I have seen a reproduction copy of Little Fanny and the storyline is depressingly moral. Little Fanny is far too interested in clothes and learns the virtues of plain living and hard work. Another title, Ellen, or, The Naughty Girl Reclaimed, pretty much speaks for itself.

But the boys. Oh, did the boys have fun. How about Frank Feignwell’s Attempts to Amuse His Friends on Twelfth-Night. You can dress and undress flamboyant young Frank here.

And then there’s The History and Adventures of Little Henry.

Just by looking at this you can see that Henry has a whale of a time, and you can view the book online here. First, he’s stolen by gypsies (moral lesson on inattentive nursemaid included) and becomes a beggar, then a chimney sweep, a drummer boy, and a sailor, rising through the ranks to return to England with fame and fortune. Huzzah!

So, yes. Boys can dress up and seek material success in life, but not girls. “The textual morals against love of clothing are gendered in problematic ways, with female characters mortiﬁed for this ﬂaw more readily than male characters.” (A Story, Exempliﬁed in a Series of Figures: Paper Doll versus Moral Tale in the Nineteenth Century by Hannah Field. More) And there’s also a great deal of self-satisfaction, one suspects, on the part of the well-heeled patrons of the Fullers’ shop, buying these idealized, smug stories for their own children.

For more online fun, Williamsburg has an online paper doll game and you can find downloadable Regency paper dolls, designed by a historian, at PaperThinPersonas.com.

Did you enjoy paper dolls as a child and/or with your own children?

Posted in History, Research | Tagged children, paper dolls | 3 Replies

First look at Outlander

Updated on August 7, 2014 by Janet Mullany

Outlander has been a long time coming and it’s finally arrived–you can watch the first episode online here even if you’re not a Starz subscriber. I thought I’d share my thoughts on this first episode. Whatever its faults, I don’t believe there is one careless frame–even the (eeew) field surgery scenes are beautiful in their way. There’s a whole lot of very effective playing around with light and filters–the present day (immediately after WW2) sequences, for instance have a sepia, historic feel to them–and it all looks amazing.

The camera lingers on Caitriona Balfe’s stunning face. Most often she’s gazing at her husband Frank, who is not looking much at her. In fact I liked the scenes with Frank better than the scenes with the Scotsmen, where she comes over as predominantly sulky and stone faced. Maybe she caught it from Sam Heughan, who plays Jamie with a limited repertoire of expressions–I think I counted about three variants on stoic bearing of pain–although there are a couple of flashes of manly thigh. I wait to be impressed.

There is a huge amount of historical filth and grime–the first appearance of a Scotsman suggests a walking collection of rags in the land of bad haircuts. The countryside is gorgeous. The horses are nice.

So what’s not to love? Well, the pacing is off, off, off. Those of us who’ve read the book(s) know that Claire will be going through the stones. Does she get there in episode 1? Eventually, yes. Compared to the brief, brilliant flashback that shows the young Claire on an excavation (lighting a cigarette for her archaeologist uncle, tsk tsk–what, children smoking???–a nice touch) the setup goes on and on and on. I wonder whether it would have been possible to have Claire going through the stones as the end of episode one.

And when she does go through … well, surely this is the Big Moment. We get a black screen. Good. Then … oh dear, flashback to car wreck which is what Claire compares it to, although not I believe in the book, pulling us right out of the moment (and I rarely meets a flashback I don’t like). Bad. I was really hoping for a sort of Hitchcockian Vertigo moment here, lots of wobbly camera effects and panic. Maybe a Blair Witch moment.

Really, all in all, there’s a lot that happens in this first episode but it doesn’t feel that way on the small screen. It’s both disjointed and repetitive. Claire swears, Scotsmen and/or English officers threaten her, she runs, she gets a bit more dirty, performs first aid, rinse and repeat.

I have the greatest admiration for Diana Gabaldon, whose episodic technique was a revelation to me when I heard her speak about twelve years ago: that you can skip onto a scene that you’re dying to write or even a scene that seems to have no particular place to go (yet). Reading her now, I find myself thinking, this scene is great, but really, what are we doing here? Do we ever meet this character again? Do we have to remember him/her? I suspect the TV series will have too many moments like this as well, and it’s too bad.

But, yes, I’ll be watching. Will you, have you? What did you think?

Posted in TV and Film | Tagged Caitriona Balfe, Diana Gabaldon, Outlander, Sam Heughan | 2 Replies

Serving the Gentleman

Updated on July 31, 2014 by Janet Mullany

Get your mind out of the gutter now.

I am acting as valet today. My husband is going on the Grand Tour–to Italy, at any rate–and I am helping him put a huge amount of t-shirts etc into a suitcase and urging him to do all the things you have to do before a trip. We leave the house in less than two hours when I will assume the roles of coachman and porter.

Eek.

So I think I can safely offer my services as a gentleman’s uh gentleman. I haven’t used an iron in years, can’t get out stains or tie a cravat, and wouldn’t know a clothesbrush if it hit me around the head, but I can sure stuff things into a suitcase.

And this is where he’s going:Other than continual recorder playing it sounds fab (well, that’s why he’s going and why I’m not). And he’s the only person I know who’s going to Tuscany to eat vegan food.

Have you been on vacation this summer? Tell us about it.

And PS, in really important news, Dedication is now available as a paperback, first time in print (this edition)!

Posted in Anything but writing | Tagged Vacation | 1 Reply

NSFW: Pass The Gravy

Updated on July 23, 2014 by Janet Mullany

In which I talk about sex, or to be more accurate, writing sex.

This is inspired by my reading an actual romance, one that came highly recommended and intrigued me because it was about a woman composer in the late Georgian period. In her afterword the author mentioned that she was inspired by the life and works of Fanny Mendelssohn, Felix’s smarter older sister. The best bits of the book were about music–what it feels like to listen, or to play or create.

The luurve business and the Hessian bumping business, not so much. One was a lazy fall back to some truly awful cliches such as her womanly core and the juncture of her thighs and I’ve spent so long complaining about the use of such dreadful terminology I’m beginning to bore myself as well as the rest of us. Truly, those terms are like iffy extended family members who slurp gravy and get mashed potatoes stuck in their knitting. We know what they are but somehow we can’t get rid of them and keep inviting them for Thanksgiving anyway.

But one thing this writer did get right was that h/h talked to each other–about what they wanted to do, what they were doing now, and could they … uh, have a bit more breast meat. And pass the gravy.

Which brings me to the other writing sex inspiration–a presentation for my local RWA chapter by a former dominatrix who is now a counselor for the LGBT community. She was extremely funny and brought the tools of the trade with her, a collection of whips and other items. But never mind that. And guess what she said–the problem with most fictional depictions of BDSM or polyamorous relationships is that participants don’t talk enough. That’s talking before you do anything. In fact, with threesomes etc. it’s a wonder people don’t wear themselves out with preliminary discussions and collapse in chaste and total exhaustion.

And unless not talking is part of the game–you could, for instance, have a drumstick (or something) wedged in your mouth–chances are these verbal folks would keep right on talking. Because the communication doesn’t stop once the action starts, although in romance it’s far too often all this teeth-gritted, grimacing, straining stuff which reads like a bad case of constipation, even if minutes before h/h have been chatting away.

So, my conclusion with writing sex scenes is nothing new–it’s all about communication. Or possibly the lack of it. Or a yearning to communicate, meld, belong, love as a physical expression. What do you think? And what makes a sex scene work for you?

Posted in Writing | Tagged love scenes, Turkey | 4 Replies