gance, its extravagance, its strange vacillations between an unbecoming exposure and an overloading of the person, its sudden and capricious changes, may all be traced to the struggle between two opposing influences. On the one side was a class of creatures for whom our language no longer has a name. Reckless of cost, caring for nothing so much as to attract attention, as devoid of real taste as of self-respect, they gave the predominating tone to what was then called fashion. This was especially the case in that country whose taste in feminine costume was long slavishly copied by other nations. Here their influence was stronger and more openly exercised than in any other land. They were actually a political power, sometimes the highest. A meretricious art and a corrupting literature were their worthy allies and ministers. They were backed by all the interests whose account lay in extravagance of costume.
"The matrons and daughters of the period, as yet without any direct influence upon legislation, and unused to acting in concert, had neither the ability to contend against the influences that degraded their sex, nor the spirit to abstain from an unworthy imitation. They seem to have been content to copy and modify—sometimes in matters of more importance than dress—what they should have rejected with the disdain due to the source whence it originated. It generally happened, that, as in other copies from a bad original, the more glaring defects were exaggerated: the good points, if any, disappeared. True taste in feminine attire first became possible when woman ceased from the endeavor to recommend herself chiefly by what, at most, is but an accessory to her true charm."
