The Fashion Historian

As a fashion historian, I find that an interesting aspect of Disney is how the animated features serve as records of the visual culture of their day. The Disney Princesses, a successful sub-franchise launched by Disney in the late 1990s, are everywhere these days. They have not been without controversy, but they are certainly popular. They are also records of changing standards of beauty for women in the 20th century. This post series will discuss selected Disney Princesses, exploring how they embody the ideals of femininity of their time.


Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is a landmark moment in the history of film. It was the first full length animated feature produced by Walt Disney, and is one of the top ten performers at the North American box office. Based on the Brothers Grimm fairy tale, it tells the story of an evil queen who is jealous of Snow White's superior beauty and orders her murder. After a huntsman, Snow White's would-be murderer, shows mercy, Snow White begins a life of hiding in the woods and befriends seven dwarfs. Furious that Snow White is still alive the evil queen disguises herself and visits Snow White in her woodland cottage giving her a poisoned apple. Snow White takes a bite and seems to die but is ultimately awoken and rescued by the kiss of a handsome prince. And they all lived happily ever after.

Marjorie and her animated counterpart dance.

Illustration of two women wearing dress coats from Croquis de bal, 1930s. The New York Public Library.

Hat designs from the 1930s.

I recently read this article by Lisa Bloom, called How to Talk to Little Girls. It's a quick and interesting read but the gist of it is that the author recently met the five-year-old daughter of a friend, and had to stop herself from complimenting the little girl's appearance. Instead, she started talking about books, in the hopes that this little girl would learn that her mind is valued more than her appearance. Bloom also gives some troubling statistics about the girls and women of America:

"This week ABC news reported that nearly half of all three- to six-year-old girls worry about being fat. In my book, Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World, I reveal that fifteen to eighteen percent of girls under twelve now wear mascara, eyeliner and lipstick regularly; eating disorders are up and self-esteem is down; and twenty-five percent of young American women would rather win America’s next top model than the Nobel Peace Prize. Even bright, successful college women say they’d rather be hot than smart. A Miami mom just died from cosmetic surgery, leaving behind two teenagers. This keeps happening, and it breaks my heart.

Teaching girls that their appearance is the first thing you notice tells them that looks are more important than anything. It sets them up for dieting at age 5 and foundation at age 11 and boob jobs at 17 and Botox at 23. As our cultural imperative for girls to be hot 24/7 has become the new normal, American women have become increasingly unhappy. What’s missing? A life of meaning, a life of ideas and reading books and being valued for our thoughts and accomplishments."

The second paragraph is the crux of her argument and I completely agree. We need to stop valuing women based solely on their appearance, and we need to teach girls to be happy with themselves, whatever shape or size they may be.

But what struck me, and what I want to talk about, is the following quote about the book the little girl read to Bloom:

"Alas, it was about girls and what they wore, and how their wardrobe choices defined their identities. But after Maya closed the final page, I steered the conversation to the deeper issues in the book: mean girls and peer pressure and not going along with the group."

This argument presupposes that an engagement with fashion and appearance is shallow and stupid. I agree that society should not tell women and girls that they have to look a particular way, and there are definitely billion dollar industries sending bad messages. But that does not mean that those who do engage in the industry and consider fashion an important part of their lives is wrong.

In 2005, a reality show aired in America (and probably elsewhere) called Beauty and the Geek. It pared beautiful but "dumb" women with "unattractive" male geeks and the teams of two competed for some some sort of grand prize. I don't really remember all the details, but what I do remember is that there would be quizzes for the participants. The men would teach the women about politics and other "serious issues" and then the women would be quizzed on it. And what did the women teach the men? Fashion and celebrities and other "shallow" things. The whole premise of the show was that anyone who is beautiful is stupid and anyone who is smart is ugly and obviously that is ridiculous. But my point is that these beautiful women knew more about fashion than politics and this made them dumb.

This all adheres to the stigma that fashion is shallow. That idea is actually a fairly recent phenomenon. The gendering of fashion is a fascinating topic and one I will post more about later, but here's a quick summary. Fashion became shallow and a female thing at the beginning of the nineteenth century, when gender roles became extremely strict. This was when men started wearing dark suits, which were relatively basic compared to the flamboyant clothing of previous centuries. It was decided that men were serious and intelligent, while women were silly and superficial. Thus the world of dress was confined to women (interestingly the majority of couturiers were and still are men but that's a topic for another post). This idea has more or less remained in tact today, coloring women interested in fashion as superficial.

My argument is to fight that stigma. A little girl can be interested in fashion and expressing an identity through clothing and still be intelligent and worldly. I say instead of fighting fashion, fight a system that labels fashion as shallow and dumb. Teach the next generation to value more than appearance, but don't devalue an interest in appearance altogether.

What are your thoughts? Comment and let me know!

In the early sixteenth century, men were all about width. Their wardrobe emphasized and enhanced the width of the body, giving a very powerful presence. In today's head to toe post, we'll find out how this look was created.

Portrait of Henry VIII, after Hans Holbein the Younger, c. 1537. In the collection of the Walker Art Gallery.

Here we see the imposing figure of Henry VIII, who ruled England from 1509 to 1547. On his head he wears a biretta, a soft, round, and wide hat. These could be decorated with jewels and feathers, as seen in this portrait.

Henry's basic foundation garment is a white shirt, the collar and cuffs of which can be seen in his painting. Little puffs of undershirt are also visible in the slashing which decorates his outer garments. Over the shirt he wears a doublet, a waist length, tightly fitted garment which opened down the center front. Doublets could be elaborately decorated with slashing and jewels, as can be seen in this image.

On top of the doublet is a jerkin. The jerkin fit over the waist like a vest, with a deep V or U shaped neckline. Below the waist, the jerkin flared out into a skirt. It's a little difficult to differentiate between Henry's jerkin and doublet, but the image below better illustrates the idea. The Ambassador to the left wears a pink doublet and black jerkin.

The Ambassadors by Hans Holbein the Younger, c. 1533. In the collection of the National Gallery, London.

The bulky overcoat worn over the doublet and jerkin is a box coat, so called because it's shaped like a box. Often stuffed with straw to give volume, the box coat featured huge sleeves which gave men a wide and powerful silhouette. Often they were lined in fur, as can be seen in both images (Henry's box coat is lined in brown fur, while the Ambassador's coat is lined with white).

The legs were covered with hose, which had become two separate pieces. Upper stocks covered the top half of the leg, while lower stocks covered the bottom. The differentiation between the two pieces is particularly clear in Henry's portrait. The emphasis on width is continued all the way down to the shoes, called duckbill shoes. Duckbill shoes were flat and square in front, made of leather, and could be slashed for decoration.

Myth: Did some Victorian women really have their lower ribs removed in order to have a smaller waist?

Short Answer: No.

Long Answer:

The idea of using surgery to fix some unsatisfactory part of the physical appearance is extremely new. Unnecessary surgery is only possible with highly developed, modern surgical practices.

In the early 19th century, surgery was mainly confined to amputations and the removal of external problems. Anesthesia of any kind was first used around the 1840s, which allowed surgeons to start fixing internal problems. The risk of infection was also extremely high, with the germ theory of disease first being applied to surgery by Joseph Lister around the 1870s. However, it would take quite some time for surgery to become as sterile as we know it today. Instruments were beginning to be sterilized, but there were still plenty of ways for bacteria to enter the body. Antibiotics were only just starting to be discovered around the same time, but the science wouldn't really take off until the 20th century.


The Gross Clinic by Thomas Eakins, 1875
In the collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art

Eakins' famous picture, The Gross Clinic, shows a typical Victorian surgical scene. The surgery is performed in an open auditorium with several spectators, and the doctors themselves are wearing street clothes and working with their bare hands. Even if the instruments were sterilized, it would still be extremely easy for an infection to take hold and the poor man being operated on to die.

If you survived all of that, there is still the pain that comes post surgery. Painkillers as we know them didn't really exist in the Victorian period, so for pain control a person had to turn to some sort of drug that was probably not very safe. For a point of comparison, remember when you had your wisdom teeth out? I recently had mine taken out, and even with my sophisticated, modern pain medication I was still pretty miserable for a few days afterwords. Now imagine an operation that didn't use modern surgical practices, and didn't involve modern painkillers to control post-operative pain.

No one in their right mind in the 19th century would voluntarily go under the knife unless it was absolutely necessary for their survival.



On the next episode of MythBusters: Fashion History Edition, underwear myths! Is it true that only lewd women wore underwear before the 20th century? Did Joan of Arc wear anything under all that armor? Find out soon! As always, if you have a myth you'd like to see busted, leave a comment and I'll research it!

As a sort of followup to my last head-to-toe post, where the cage crinoline was mentioned, I thought I'd write a bit about the social symbolism of the crinoline.



The cage crinoline first appeared in the mid 1850s and would continue to be popular until the 1870s, when it transformed into a bustle. At this time in history, women had very few rights and were generally second class citizens. They were seen as delicate, frivolous, submissive, and intellectually inferior to men. A woman was an ornament. They dressed in more colorful and decorative clothing (as opposed to men who wore dark, plain suits) to show off the wealth of either their fathers or their husbands. This stifling atmosphere did its best to confine a woman to the role of dutiful daughter and then dutiful wife, leaving little room for any other aspirations. You probably see where I'm going with this. Women were, metaphorically, caged by their society, just as their bodies were literally caged by a cage crinoline.


Modern fashion historians aren't the only ones who picked up on the idea of the cage crinoline as a literal cage. Here a cartoonist from the period shows how useful this cage can be for men.

Just as this was a period of female intellectual and social repression, it was also a period of sexual repression (although sexual repression was a hallmark of Victorian society as a whole, not just the women of the period). With the crinoline covering the lower half of the body, a woman's sexuality was literally in a cage, inaccessible to anyone except a husband. Interestingly, historically men weren't seen as the more sexual beings. Women were the sexually rapacious gender, and men were simply poor victims lured in by those pesky horny females. Thus the crinoline can be seen as a cage confining a woman's sexuality for the protection of men, just as one would put a ravenous animal in a cage for the protection of the people around it.

Interestingly, with all of it's symbols of female repression, many men thought the crinoline was incredibly stupid. It was way too big, taking up all of the room in carriages and making it that much harder to get close to a woman. Which leads to the other side of the social symbolism. In an increasingly industrialized society, cities were overcrowded and with any large city comes a large crime rate. Wearing a giant cage can be seen as a form of protection against the hundreds and thousands of suspicious strangers a woman might come into contact with walking down the street. Furthermore, caging a woman's sexuality can be seen from another angle. By putting her genitals behind a cage, a woman is at least symbolically protecting herself from sexual predators.

In addition to this social protection, the cage crinoline offered health benefits as well. Before it's invention, women achieved the fashionable wide-skirted silhouette by wearing many layers of heavy petticoats. This was not only uncomfortable but unhealthy. The cage crinoline offered a much better alternative. It was much lighter, wasn't nearly as hot as wearing multiple layers of cloth, and allowed for a greater range of movement. So on the one hand it symbolized female repression, but on the other it provided a sort of female liberation.



I'm no expert on gender studies, but these are just some of my thoughts on the possible symbolism of the cage crinoline. What do you all think? Is it a greater symbol of repression? Of liberation? A combination of both? Let me hear your thoughts!

Oh, times are tough in the middle ages. All the decent young men are fighting in crusades or dying of plague. I mean what's a girl got to do to get a date? Bend over backwards?



Well... yes, actually. BUH DUM CHING!!!!

As the Black Plague killed off millions and millions of people, those remaining alive had the task of repopulation. Thus to be fertile was to be beautiful. To project her fertility, a lady would bend back and stick our her abdomen, mimicking how it looks to be pregnant. This body posture has been called the gothic slouch.



Even as the plague finished doing what it does best, the fertile look continued to be popular.



Here is the famous Arnolfini Wedding Portrait from the 15th century. The woman in the portrait isn't pregnant, but she is holding up some of the extra fabric in her dress to simulate a pregnant belly, symbolizing that she is fertile and will soon give her new husband many sons who will carry on the grand Arnolfini pimp-hat-wearing tradition.

In an age where life expectancy was extremely short and most of your children would die before adulthood, the best thing a woman could be was very fertile. Marriages weren't necessarily about finding some one you love or vaguely get along with, although that was great if that happened. Marriage was most importantly about procreation. The family name had to be carried on, and that meant at least one son who lived to adulthood and had children of his own. That also meant surviving multiple pregnancies (even just having the child could very easily kill you), and your chances of survival would be greater if there was more fat around your lower body. By sticking out your abdomen, you give the illusion of a plump lower body which will help you survive many childbirths.

Compare this to today, where any sign of belly fat is abhorred. With the improvement of medical technology, childbirth is not nearly as dangerous and most children live into adulthood. Therefore a woman does not need to show that she has enough belly fat to survive childbirth, because these days she doesn't need that. And because weight doesn't have as much effect over the ability to survive multiple childbirths, signs of fertility are not tied up in how much belly fat a woman has. Furthermore, many couples choose not to have any children at all, society having developed to a point where having many children is no longer an absolute requirement (mothers desiring grandchildren, however, are another matter entirely). Marriage has become mainly about finding some one you love. So now the ideal for a woman is to stand up straight and suck it in. Unless you're Paris Hilton. She doesn't have bad posture, she's just trying to bring back the gothic slouch!