tions; she would have them decked with every conceivable conceit, and kick her red heels in defiance of public opinion. A pair of her shoes are even now kept in the Museum at Cluny, and these are embroidered in a design of green foliage, outlined with silver, clasped with silver buckles glittering with old paste. Fans also were amongst her weaknesses; she had these of every size and shape, with long handles which could not be folded, and mounts of carved and decorated ivory, some of her Chinese fans being worth a small fortune.
Mrs. Delany's letters may be the foundation for a liberal education in the art of costume as practised in England in the eighteenth century, and her description of Lady Huntingdon's dress at a Court ball is as vivid as remarkable, reflecting at once credit on the Boswell and the inspiration:—
Her petticoat was of black velvet embroidered with chenille, the pattern a large stone vase filled with ramping flowers, which spread almost over the breadth of the petticoat from the top to the bottom; between each vase of flowers was a pattern of gold shells and foliage embossed and most heavily rich. The gown was white satin embroidered also with chenille mixed with gold, novase on the sleeve, but two or three on the tail; it was a most laboured piece of finery, the pattern much properer for a stucco staircase than the apparel of a lady.
She also writes the description of a dress she is going to wear at the wedding of Princess Anne (George IL's eldest daughter) and Prince William of Nassau and Orange in 1734:—
I have got my wedding garment ready; 'tis a brocaded lute-string white ground, with great ramping flowers in shades of purples, reds, and greens. I gave, thirteen shillings a yard: which looks better than it describes, and it will make a show. I shall wear it with dark purple and gold ribbon, and a black hood for decency's sake.
