Science of Dress/Chapter X
CHAPTER X.
THE USE AND ABUSE OF CORSETS.[edit]
I HAVE sufficiently urged the use of woollen combinations, and the question now arises, "What garments ought to be worn over these?" In answer, I would say,—As few as possible. I know I shall shock a good many of my readers when I say that I think that venerable and highly-respected article of female dress—the chemise—may advantageously be wholly dispensed with. Every one is supposed to have a chemise "to her back," but that this supposition is not wholly true was proved to me some time ago. When at the seaside last autumn, two girls, both friends of mine, and whom I introduced to each other, went one warm day with me to bathe. One said to the other, "I am afraid you will be awfully shocked when you see me undress." "Shocked! Why?" "Well, I hardly like to tell you; but the fact is, that I have so little on." "I don't wear much," said the other. "All I have is combination, stays, and one petticoat under my dress." Curiously enough, both these girls were dressed in precisely the same way, in woollen combinations, stays (well shaped, and not tight), one petticoat, and a dress, which from its elegance gave no suspicion of the state of affairs underneath. As I had an opportunity of observing, these young ladies were dressed in perfectly sanitary style, although none but myself had any idea of the fact; and, in spite of it, they passed for two of the best-dressed girls at the fashionable watering-place where we were staying. I have since had several opportunities of observation, and I find that quite a number of the best-dressed women of my acquaintance have renounced the use of the chemise in favour of woven combinations. The majority, however, I believe, are not induced to do so by sanitary considerations, but simply because the chemise is a bulky article and makes them look stouter than is natural to them; whereas the combinations, being made in a stretchy material, fit somewhat closely and show the symmetry of the figure.
This is, to my mind, a very good reason why the chemise should be given up, but, from a health point of view, we can find a still better one. Chemises are generally made of linen or cotton, both of which materials, as I have already said, are unsuitable for clothing, because they are good conductors of heat, bad absorbers of moisture, and bad ventilators. It may be thought perhaps that there is no harm in wearing a chemise of linen or cotton if a woollen vest is worn beneath it; but this is a mistake, for the close web and vegetable fibre will prevent the escape of cutaneous evaporation, and hinder that breathing of the skin to which I have referred in former chapters.
After violent exercise undergone by the wearer of a woollen vest and cotton or linen shirt or chemise, while the vest may only feel slightly damp, the other garment is found to be literally wringing wet. Woollen undervests also become sticky and greasy, because, the evaporation of the skin being hindered, it takes on the form of water, and causes the scales of the skin, which when dry drop off, to adhere to the clothes and to the body, thus clogging up the pores of the skin.
Another objection to chemises is the bad way in which they are generally cut. The armholes are cut round, and the sleeves are cut in one piece with the garment itself, or sewn in regardless of any shape. This prevents the arms from being raised unless the chemise can be dragged up with them, which it rarely can, as it is generally fixed down by the pressure of other clothes round the waist. Any garment which impairs the free movement of the arms is objectionable, as such movement is necessary to the proper development of the chest. If chemises are to be worn, they should be made of French cambric or of nainsook—materials which are thin and not very closely webbed, so that they ventilate better than linen or cotton; and they should be cut with armholes circular at the top and elliptic near the armpit, so that the arms may be raised without drawing up the chemise, or, better still, a gusset, such as our grandmothers used, may be inserted under the arm, which will serve the same purpose. The armholes should be well sloped out over the shoulders.
The next article of dress to the chemise is the corset, and I approach this branch of my subject with great diffidence, for no part of ladies' dress has given rise to so much discussion as this, over which a war of words has raged fiercely for generations past.
Tight-lacing has been condemned for many centuries—in England by writers dating as far back as the reign of William Rufus, and in France the same moralist of the fifteenth century to whom I recently referred as condemning the low-necked dresses worn by ladies of rank in his time, goes on to say that these dresses were "so tight in the waist that they can scarcely respire in them, and often suffer much pain by it." Here, be it observed, however, that corsets, although the most convenient, are not the only means of tightening in the waist. Dresses worn without corsets may be laced so tightly that the unfortunate wearer can hardly breathe, and bands fastened firmly round the waist (Plate 5, line A, B) so as to serve the same purpose.
Perhaps that inner striving after a higher life, which is thought to be the especial prerogative of man, is the cause of the notable fact that universally human beings are dissatisfied with their own natural characteristics. They wish to make Nature hurry up to their ideal of what ought to be, and they therefore try to improve upon her. More than one nation compresses the skulls of its infants to make them long, broad, or flat, as it chances to think best. Some tribes consider it vulgar to have white even teeth like those of a dog, so they file them down, colour them, and subject them to various other kinds of treatment, with a view to fitting them for their dignified position in the mouth of a man. Other nations, with much pain, tattoo themselves in elegant patterns, raise knobs of flesh on their faces, and stick large bones and shells through the lobes of their ears and the cartilages of their noses. It is not so-very long since all Europe considered it impossible for children to grow straight without being swaddled. How could Nature be expected to do her work unaided ?
From the earliest records of man, and to the present day, his efforts can be traced to improve upon the form which Nature has given him, until sometimes all semblance to the original design has been lost, and the "human form divine" has become the human form artificial. At the present time, among Europeans, this tendency is chiefly shown by both sexes in regard to the feet, of which more anon, and by women in regard to their waists. The custom of deforming the waist is, however, confined neither to Europe nor to modern times.
By various statues and bas-reliefs in the British Museum, I am led to believe that compression of the waist was a very ancient custom. Many of the figures, coming from widely different parts of the world and of very remote date, although nude, have waists which are perfectly round, instead of being elliptical, as is the natural waist, and which are so small in proportion to the other parts of the figure that I cannot think they are due to the imperfect skill of the sculptor. In fact, I am rather inclined to think that they were possibly produced by tight bandages applied during the infancy of the individual, and removed when she attained full growth, just in the same way as the shape of the skull is permanently altered among other nations, by gradual crushing and moulding while the bones are yet pliable in childhood.
Hippocrates, about 400 B.C., speaks of a people he calls the Macrocephali, who, he says, directly a child is born, while its head is still tender, begin to fashion it with their hands, "and constrain it to assume a lengthened shape by applying bandages and other suitable contrivances, whereby the spherical form of the head is destroyed, and it is made to increase in length. Thus, at first, usage operated, so that this constitution was the result of force; but in the course of time it was formed naturally, so that usage had nothing to do with it." But it must not be thought that this is a long extinct custom; for, indeed, it is still existing among the Chinook Indians and the natives of Vancouver Island, although it is dying out under European influence.
According to Bancroft,1[1] "Failure properly to mould the cranium of her offspring gives to the Chinook matron the reputation of a lazy, undutiful mother, and subjects the neglected children to the ridicule of their young companions, so despotic in fashion." As among the ancients, the process is begun soon after the birth of the child, and continued for from eight to twelve months, until the head has permanently assumed the desired shape. Mr. Kane, who had considerable opportunities for observation, has remarked, "It might be supposed that the operation would be attended with great suffering, but I, never heard the infants crying or moaning, although I have seen their eyes seemingly starting out of the sockets from the great pressure; but, on the contrary, when the thongs were loosened and the pads removed, I have noticed them cry until they were replaced."
I have referred at length to this practice of deforming the head by pressure, because it throws great light on that other and equally barbaric practice of deforming the waist by tight bandages or stays., (See Plates 2 and 4.)
In reply to a remark that either of these practices is injurious, a similar answer would be made either by the Chinook Indian or the European modiste, and that answer would be, "It is nonsense to say that it can be injurious, when it is not even painful."
The reason of this immunity from pain is to be found in the marvellous adaptability of living things to their surroundings. In our sensations Nature has provided us with a code of danger signals, of which pain is the index. Thus, a sound loud enough to be painful is a warning that, if we continue to hear it, injury will result to the delicate auditory apparatus; a light strong enough to be dazzling bids us, if we value our eyes, to turn them away; if we put our hand against a sharp point it is a signal not to go on pressing in that direction; an unpleasant taste often indicates a poisonous matter; and a bad smell teaches that we are breathing impure air.
The case is better understood by analogy if we refer to the hand of a workman. If rough work is done the soft and delicate hand is pained; if, however, the work is persevered in, the hand ceases to be so sensitive, the skin grows thick and horny, so that rough surfaces, and even hot coals, can be handled with impunity; but at the same time the delicate sense of touch has become grievously impaired.
Owing to the wonderful adaptability of Nature, if the warning given by a sensation is persistently neglected, after a time it ceases to be given. The pain has become deadened, but injury results none the less. For example, a bell-ringer going for the first time to his work finds the clang and clash of his bells almost insupportable; after a time, however, he grows accustomed to it, and at last hardly feels it at all. He has gained immunity from pain, but he has gained it at the expense of injury to the nerves of hearing—he has become deaf.
Besides the senses just now referred to, there are others of equal importance. Such, for instance, is the sense of hunger. If sensations of hunger are neglected, appetite is lost; on the other hand, if the stomach's warning of "I have had enough" is unheeded, the nerves of that organ after a time get wearied, and no longer send their important message to the brain, so that a habit of over-eating is acquired.
The most important of all rules for the preservation of personal health is that the senses must not be vitiated by neglect of their warnings.
But the chief sensations which concern the subject of dress are those of heat and cold. The sensations of heat are, as a rule, fairly attended to in our climate, which is rarely so warm as to need any very special care, and love of appearance is also a safeguard in this respect; for we do not like to look hot and perspiring, and so take care to keep as cool as possible in warm weather. Sensations of cold, however, are habitually neglected, and I have shown in Chapter IV. how much harm is done by it, in spite of the fact that, owing to the blunting of sensation by habit above alluded to, the cold may not be felt.2[2]
In passing I would point out as an example of that wonderful adaptability of animal nature to its surroundings, the way in which it has been outraged by fashionable Europe for centuries past in the matter of dress. By fashionable Europe I allude primarily to France and England.
That people should have at all survived the sufferings and injuries inflicted upon them by the cruel and fickle goddess Fashion for several centuries past is an astounding proof of the hardiness of the human race, and its power of adapting itself to adverse circumstances.
Nature will adapt herself to objectionable circumstances; but that is not a guarantee that no harm is being done. Life will continue under conditions so adverse that its continuance is surprising; but it may be laid down as a rule that a sudden change in vital conditions will be fatal, whereas a change as complete, but brought about gradually, will affect the health insidiously, but will not put an end to life. For example, if we were to take a girl the natural size of whose waist was twenty-four inches, put on her a small pair of stays, and draw those stays in till the waist measured sixteen inches only, that girl would faint almost immediately, and, unless the stays were opened, would probably die from failure of the heart's action, owing to mechanical pressure on the heart—one of the evils brought about by the external compression. But if we were to take a girl of the same age and height, whose shoulders and hips measured the same, but who from childhood had been gradually accustomed to tight lacing, we should find that, with a waist of only sixteen inches, the vital functions were still being performed, although, as might be expected, health was feeble for not one organ of her body on which the pressure had been exerted would be in its right place. (See Plates 2 and 4.) The deformity caused by tight stays is unfortunately generally effected so gradually during the years of growth that the sufferer is unconscious of any harm. Moreover, just as the Chinook infant will cry when its head-bandages are removed, so the woman whose body has been crushed out of all semblance to its natural form by 
I hope that my readers will not, by these remarks, be led to think that I want to subvert the very foundations of society. I have no desire to have the majority of my own sex rising up in outcry against me. All that I wish to do is to place before them certain simple facts in Nature and in physiology which must appeal to their reason more strongly than mere denunciation could possibly do, and as at present I am writing as a woman for women, the remarks I may make here should not be stigmatized as immodest.
There is a very popular saying, that "Familiarity breeds contempt;" this is, however, most untrue as regards the human body, for it is precisely those who know the least about it who despise and ill-treat it the most. The more we learn about the marvellous mechanism which performs our vital functions, the more wonderful and beautiful does it appear—beautiful, I say, for true beauty is the perfect adaptation of the means to the end, and the organs of the body are by nature perfectly adapted to the production of healthy life. "Know thyself" is a precept that has not yet been hearkened to as it should be; but if only it were obeyed our constitutions would not be injured and Nature outraged in the persons of her children, as now happens every day and every moment. What is there inherently repulsive in ourselves that we should shrink from knowing what our bodies are, what organs they contain, and what are the functions of these organs? "We are fearfully and wonderfully made," and the more we know of ourselves, the more firmly convinced of this fact do we become.
Knowing nothing of their own bodily constitution, the "untutored savage" and the equally ignorant votary of fashion in civilized life, do their best to improve upon perfection, they "paint the lily," and so impair the noble work of Nature. The savage we can pity; he is at a lower stage of evolution than ourselves, and he is unable to appreciate the truths which centuries of development and education have made patent to us. We then smile half in contempt and half in pity at his customs, which we call "barbarous;" but when we see around us customs equally injurious, equally outrageous against nature, we do not consider that they in any way derogate from our lofty position as the intellectual salt of the earth. We merely say that they are the fashion, and, in point of fact, we grow so accustomed to the forms which Fashion has inflicted upon us, that when we see what is natural, it appears quite strange. Deformity has through long custom become to us beauty. If those ladies who deform their own and their children's waists by squeezing, only knew what was inside them, I venture to believe the very thought of tight-lacing would appear horrible and unbearable to them.
For instance the fashionable shape of the waist is entirely different from that given by Nature. (See Plates 1, 2, 3, and 4.) The natural waist of a well-formed woman (Plates 1 and 3) of average height would measure from twenty-seven to twenty-nine inches, and in form it would be elliptical from side to side instead of round, as we generally see waists. In fact there is naturally but little difference between the proportionate size of the male and female waist. But by the baneful practice of tight-lacing, the waist is seldom allowed to be even twenty-five inches; women whose waists measure twenty-four and even twenty-one exclaim with horror if accused of tight-lacing, and these are the majority; but many reduce their waists to much under twenty inches, and at a certain fashionable stay-maker's I saw corsets measuring only fourteen inches, which the maker assured me she supplied to many customers. (See Plates 2 and 4.)
Unfortunately, people rarely think of what is inside them, and indeed they consider it rather wrong to do so. A good illustration of this occurred to me a night or two ago. I was crossing a ball-room on the arm of an old friend, when a girl passed me whose waist must have measured about sixteen inches, while from the development of her liberally exposed shoulders, it was evident that its natural size would have been twenty-five inches or twenty-six inches. Almost involuntarily I exclaimed, below my breath, "What can have become of her liver?" He caught this observation, which was not intended to be heard, and exclaimed in a shocked tone, "How can you think of such dreadful things! You take all the poetry out of it." For my own part I cannot see what poetry there can be in a girl's waist reduced to ten inches less than its proper size, any more than there is in the mangled skull of a Chinook Indian. When I see a figure like that described, I invariably think of what it would look like on the dissecting-table, and probably the same unpleasant idea would occur to any one who is familiar with the natural proportions of the human frame.
I do not mean to decry the beauty of a small waist, for those whose organs are small have naturally small, fairylike figures; but I contend most strongly, that to reduce the waist of a largely-built woman to the dimensions of that of a slight girl, is to produce a ridiculous deformity. I purposely call it ridiculous, for philosophically speaking, those things which we call ridiculous, which arouse our sense of humour, will be found on inquiry to be ill-adapted to the end they are intended to subserve, to the extent that they are out of harmony with their surroundings. We speak of absurd or ludicrous efforts, which are just those that are purposeless or ineffectual. Caricatures are drawn with big heads and small bodies. It is in this way that a squeezed-in waist is ridiculous, for it is evidently out of harmony with its surroundings, and it would jar fearfully against our sense of proportion were it not that that sense has become dulled by habit. (Compare Plates 1 and 2.)
At the risk of its becoming repulsive to the dainty and sentimental among my readers, I will venture to give a short description of those parts of the body which are affected by the wearing of tight corsets; for I firmly believe that if women were more familiar with the construction of their own bodies, they would shrink with horror from the sins that they are now ignorantly committing against their own health and happiness. I would fain diminish the number of those cases where, if a coroner's jury were empanelled on the fair victims, the only true verdict possible would be "Died of tight stays."
When we know the number and size of the organs contained in the thorax and abdomen, one of the thoughts that naturally arises is, how marvellously all these organs are arranged, so that all can lie in so small a space. There is no waste room in the body, and every inch of space is fully occupied. Hence, if that space is diminished by pressure from the outside, it is evident that overcrowding, with all its attendant evils, must take place.
The thorax, or cavity of the chest, is divided from the abdomen by a thick muscular partition called the diaphragm. (See Plates 3 and 4.) The chest cavity contains the lungs, which extend from beneath the collar-bones low down on each side of the body to the bottom of the true ribs; the heart, which is the size of the owner's clenched fist; the large vessels connected with it, which pass down through the diaphragm to the lower part of the body, and the oesophagus or gullet, a muscular tube also passing through the diaphragm to the stomach, 
Most of these organs in the natural state can undergo a considerable amount of movement: the lungs expand widely, the cavity of the chest enlarging at the same time in all directions by the bulging out of the ribs and pressing down of the diaphragm. This communicates a movement to the abdominal organs, as may easily be felt if the hand is placed on the abdomen while two or three deep breaths are taken. The stomach during digestion expands and churns the food about; and considerable movement takes place among the bowels, the coils of which pass freely over one another.
After even this brief sketch of our internal organism we are enabled better to appreciate the injury done by tight-lacing.
To begin from the outside, tight stays hinder the action of the skin of the parts they press upon by impeding the circulation; they weaken the muscles of these parts, especially those of the back, by preventing the amount of movement necessary to their healthy development. They act very much like splints, and we all know how weak the muscles feel after these have been removed. This accounts for the fact that a woman who has been accustomed to lace tightly, feels as if she "must fall to pieces" if she leaves off her stays. Next, they gradually press in the ribs, which in time become permanently deformed. (See Plate 2.) The ribs crush the lower part of the lungs, which are thus prevented from performing their due amount of work. Owing to their pressure the lower part of the chest cannot expand outwards, and it is also hindered from expanding downwards by the impeded action of the diaphragm. Thus, although an increase of work is thrown on the upper part of the lungs, breathing cannot be naturally performed, and from this many serious diseases may arise. A tendency to consumption is hereby encouraged, and, even without this tendency, blood-spitting may be caused by the pressure. But, besides interfering with the action of the lungs, this pressure, in limiting the space occupied by the other organs, hinders their natural and healthy motions, the heart and stomach are deranged, the action of the liver hampered, the movements of the bowels restricted. Hence arise indigestion, constipation, headaches, weariness, depression of spirits, palpitation, and a feeling of oppression at the heart, pain in the side, eruptions on the skin, which either feels chilly all over its surface or sometimes burns, and, what will probably seem of much more importance to those whom vanity has induced to lace tightly, pallor and thickness of complexion, with a yellowish or greyish tinge to the cheeks, and owing to impaired circulation, swelling and redness of the hands and feet, and, worst of all to the would-be beauty, redness of the nose. The spine also not unfrequently becomes curved laterally.
Furthermore, all the abdominal organs are displaced by pressure round the waist. If you take a bladder full of air and squeeze it firmly in the middle, the air, following the line of least resistance, will bulge out the bladder on either side of your fingers. Now, it is very much the same with the human body with regard to stays, the pressure of which is greatest at the waist, least at the bottom of the abdomen. The abdominal organs follow the line of least resistance, and are, therefore, displaced downwards.4[4] This displacement is productive of many and serious ills, constant pain and weariness 
Many ladies who are hoping to become mothers, either through ignorance and vanity, or through feelings of modesty which lead them to try to conceal their condition, so press in their bodies by tight, stiff stays, that their children cannot grow properly, and if they live to term are born weak, deformed, and crippled. But the very fact of tight-lacing will frequently prevent the possibility of motherhood, and it is a prevalent cause of miscarriage, falling of the womb, piles, and varicose veins, with other painful affections far too numerous to mention.
Only the physician can know the full amount of death, suffering, and mental anguish brought about by the state of affairs which I have attempted to describe, although incompletely, knowing as I do the popular horror of plain speaking, yet all this mischief is caused by a piece of vanity so apparently trifling as the desire to have a smaller waist than Nature has intended.
Can the pleasure of boasting a tiny waist be weighed in the balance of the mental and physical agony at the cost of which it is obtained? But ladies are too apt to avoid weighing the value of their pleasures in this manner. They follow the fashion, whatever it may be, quite blindly, and without endeavouring to adapt it to their own requirements, under a sort of tacit belief that "whatever is, is right;" and, if their conduct is ever called into question by intelligent but presuming male relations, arguments are sure to be found to defend it, and, whether justly or unjustly, the rash adviser is generally ignominiously defeated. Thus, a woman whose muscles, as I just now pointed out, have been weakened by tight stays, will declare with some show of reason that she could not sit or stand upright without their support.
No lady under any circumstances will own to lacing tightly, and in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred she will challenge her accuser to what is apparently a crucial experiment by exclaiming, "I wear tight stays! why, just see, you can put your hand up underneath them." And in point of fact this frequently can be done: but it is really no test at all, for by drawing in the abdominal muscles which act upon the chest end of the ribs, and at the same time raising the diaphragm, and leaning forward, she diminishes the girth of her body, although putting extra pressure on the internal organs.
These arguments, then, are mere sophistry, and a more searching test is required than that above; as such, I would suggest the plan practised by Mr. Bernard Roth, F.R.C.S., when he suspects his patients of tight-lacing. The stays should be opened, all bands of the clothing loosened, and the girl or woman accused of this crime against health should be made to draw breath deeply and slowly several times in succession, holding her arms up above her head with the shoulders well thrown back. Then while standing erect she should try to fasten her dress without refastening her other garments. This she will be unable to do if the stays over which it was made were too tight; for the chest, having been for once properly expanded, will not readily return to its former cramped state.
If women who have worn stays all their lives wisely elect to give them up they must do so gradually, for they would suffer from the sudden change, as I have already indicated. At first thinner busks should be substituted for those in use, then after a week or two some of the bones should be removed, and so on until all the support in the stays is taken away. After this the muscles will have adapted themselves to the gradual change and have come to rely upon themselves for support, and then the stays may be exchanged for the bodice I shall describe in the next chapter. While condemning tight-lacing and giving the reasons for this condemnation, I have been careful not in any way to condemn the use of the corset as such; as I have observed, women may lace tightly without wearing stays, and, on the other hand, they may wear stays without lacing tightly.
The abuse of the corset is at present, unfortunately, rampant in England, and every day in society we see sights shocking to the eye of the artist and of the sanitarian. It is no rare thing to meet ladies so tightly laced that they positively cannot lean back in a chair or on a sofa, for if they did they would suffocate. I know many a girl who can hardly dance because the agony which exercise causes her in the cramped state of her body is too great, and I have often heard young men remark, by way of a joke, "I'm almost afraid to dance with Lady A., or Miss B.; I am afraid she'll break in halves, and I should not like to be responsible for her death!"
Although French ladies wear as tight corsets as their English sisters in folly, they do not suffer so much from their effects, and this for a good reason. English ladies pride themselves on being "always fit to be seen," and they therefore wear their corsets all day long, and remove them only when they go to bed. French women, on the other hand, have certain times at which they are "on view;" when they ride in the Bois or visit, and for evening wear they lace as tightly as the English; but when they are in their own houses and not going to receive, stays are thrown aside, and their tortured bodies are allowed to expand to their natural proportions. Hence with them the evil is confined to a few hours in the twenty-four, whereas with the English it extends to fourteen or more, and the harm done is correspondingly greater.
There is a well-known story of an English lady who, condoling with a Turkish matron on the seclusion of the harem, was answered by the remark that the harem was very good and proper, but it seemed dreadful "that English husbands should lock their wives up in iron cages." The Mahomedan was wrong in attributing such cruelty to English husbands; but she was right about the existence of the iron cages. Opinion about the raison-d'être of stays has altered in the East since the time of that story, as will be seen from the following conversation, which was overheard at a wedding in Armenia:—"Doudou, do you notice how stiff and stately Mariamme Hanoum sits in her new polka? Her husband, Baron (Mr.) Cara-bet, who has just returned from Constantinople, has brought her a machine made of whalebone and steel, in which the Franks cage their wives, in order to fill up what is missing, and tone down what is superfluous" The italics are my own, and convey a meaning which appealed to the intellect of Doudou, who replied, glancing at her own very voluminous person. "Wonderful! I wonder if the like is to be found in the Chershi (bazaar); many articles of dress have been lately brought from Europe by one of the shopkeepers."5[5] It is to be hoped, for her own sake, that they were not, for although Mahomedan ladies are by no means free from sanitary crimes, they have hitherto not been guilty of that of tight-lacing. But to return to our own country.
Those persons, for the most part men, who have learnt to appreciate the evils of tight-lacing, have almost invariably been so eager to abolish those evils that they have fallen into an error of judgment, and have sought to do so by entirely abolishing the use of the corset. This has been one, if not the chief, reason of the ill-success with which their laudable efforts have met, for, appealing as they have done to grown-up women, they have appealed to ears rendered deaf by long custom. As I have already hinted, those who have almost from infancy worn stays cannot suddenly renounce their use without serious discomfort. My friend, Professor Sayce, speaking of spelling reform, once observed, All new things are sure to be objected to by those who have to unlearn the old;" and this is true not only in mental, but also in physical life. Old customs cannot be ousted with impunity. In matters affecting the body, as in those affecting the mind, reform, to be effectual, must be gradual.
More than fifty years ago a Dr. Reidel, urging the total abolition of the corset, suggested that all female delinquents in the houses of correction and in prisons, and women under sentence of death, should be forced to wear stays as a part of their punishment, thinking thus to disgust ladies with an article of dress that formed part of a felon's attire. The suggestion was never put into execution, and if it had been it is doubtful whether any good would have accrued from it, for to many ladies the wearing of corsets is not only not injurious, but absolutely beneficial; but in these cases the corsets must be well made to fit the natural shape of the figure, and must not be tightly laced.
I contend that corsets should not, as most dress-reformers ardently desire, "be improved off the face of the earth;" but they ought to be "improved," and their use ought to be limited to those who require them, of whom I shall speak hereafter.
It is desirable, however, to decrease the number of those who require the support of stays, and this can only be done by proper attention to the children of to-day, who will be the women of the next generation.
Nearly a century ago the Emperor Joseph II., well known for his philanthropy, had evidently convinced himself of the truth of this principle, and his effort to suppress tight-lacing was the most practical and best deserving of success that has ever been made. He repeatedly prohibited the wearing of stays in all convents, orphan asylums, schools, and other public institutions for the education of the young, and he obliged all schoolmasters to refuse to take as pupils any girls who wore corsets. To do this is to strike at the root of the evil, which is precisely what all reformers ought to endeavour to do.
After having read the foregoing, no one will be surprised when I say that I would entirely do away with the use of stays or corsets of any kind for girls until they have attained their full growth, unless in case of disease or malformation, when a surgeon's advice should be followed in this respect. And here I would caution every mother on no account to go to an instrument maker, have surgical stays made for her girl, and allow her to wear them without the advice of a competent surgeon; for very frequently under these circumstances instruments will be worn for months, and even years, for which there is not only no necessity, but which are actually increasing the evil they are supposed to cure. In most cases incipient deformity can be remedied by well-advised postures, and active and passive movements, and the surgical world is beginning to acknowledge that the value of instruments as a curative measure for such cases has been greatly over-estimated.
After the attainment of full growth, girls may wear the ordinary dress in fashion with very much less risk of injury than they could have done in earlier years; and the reason of this is obvious, for their constitutions have become settled, the bony structure of their frames has grown firm and hard, and their organs have attained their full and natural development.
The age for the completion of growth in women cannot be definitely fixed under twenty-three years, but by the time when girls "come out," at about eighteen, they are as a rule sufficiently well developed to be able to conform to the requirements of fashion, and the wearing of corsets will do them little if any harm, provided they are well made and not tightly laced. Ill-made stays have been known to produce cancer of the breast by pressure on and friction against those delicate organs, and they not unfrequently hinder the development of the breasts to such an extent that they render it impossible for many mothers to perform their natural duties to the young infants who are dependent on them for the only nourishment which is suitable and wholesome for them.
The ordinary stays worn by women when first they go about again after childbirth but too often increase the tendency to displacement which they are intended to avert. They press those organs downwards which really at this time require to be supported. The proper support can best be given by an abdominal belt made for the purpose, which may be worn with or without stays. See Fig. 18, p. 215, which belt may be made for use during pregnancy or after confinement.
Grown-up girls, unless they are very thin, usually require some support for their bosoms; this may be given by some such article of dress as the Grecian and Roman ladies wore of old, a sort of band shaped to preserve the spherical form of the breast, and fastening at the back between the shoulder-blades. If, however, corsets are worn, they should be moulded to the natural figure, and the less stiff they are the better.
I have already laid sufficient stress upon the fact that corsets are not needed by everybody, and should only be worn when they are needed. For slight girls and women they are quite unnecessary, but when there is an inclination to embonpoint they are, if not necessary, desirable so far as appearance is concerned, for in such cases the figure is apt to obtrude itself through the dress, and attract attention, which is unpleasant to a delicately-minded girl. A stout girl without stays looks very much like a shapeless and quivering mass of fat, and is by no means a charming spectacle; but if attention is paid to secure corsets properly made on sanitary principles, if these are changed as the figure changes, and are never laced too tightly, they will do no harm, and may safely be recommended. If on removing her stays at night the wearer finds her skin has been marked by them, she may know that they have been laced too tightly. The skin will then look red at the points of greatest pressure, and will irritate, these phenomena being caused by the reflux of the blood to those parts through which its progress was previously hindered. The custom of buying ready made stays very much at random, and because they look nice, is most strongly to be condemned as in them the figure is made to fit the corset, not the corset to fit the body, as it invariably should. The idea that corsets can be bought ready made to fit properly is quite erroneous, for no two figures are exactly alike, and a garment moulded to the shape of one person can never absolutely fit another.
Good staymakers should be employed, preferably those who possess a knowledge of anatomy, a knowledge which is now, unfortunately, as rare as it should be common among this class. The "Girton stays," sold by the Rational Dress Society, are to be recommended for ladies who are not inclined to corpulence, but women who are fat, or have a tendency to become so, need to wear stiffer and tighter stays than other people, as a little pressure will be rather beneficial to them than otherwise, by checking the increase of fat. Hence no hard-and-fast rule can be made as to stays to be worn by everybody, for they should be suited to the peculiarities of each individual. Some need none at all, some only very light stays, and others those of a more substantial kind. But, generally speaking, stays should be constructed of yielding material, with as few bones as possible, and the slightest, narrowest steel busks that can be obtained; and they should have narrow strips of elastic webbing let in throughout their whole length on each side. They should be well shaped over the abdomen, and should be made sufficiently long in front to support it. In putting them on they should be fastened from below upwards, so that the soft parts may be raised instead of being pushed down, as is the case with the ordinary stay, which is usually flat and shapeless in these parts, and to fasten which, people almost always begin at the top.
Fig. 8 shows stays constructed on these principles by Mr. Bourne, under my instructions.6[6] The white line from the arm-pit to the hip shows where the elastic is inserted, and the lower part of the stay, which fastens with a buckle, is shaped so as to support the abdomen.
For the reasons previously stated, woollen materials should be employed in making stays, and they should not be stiffened with starch or any substance which will render them incapable of ventilation and impervious to perspiration. The "Girton stays" are made of flannel, and there are many other kinds of woollen material which are suitable for the purpose. The small ventilating power of ordinary stays is another serious charge to add to those I have already made against them.
Fig. 12.
Fig. 13.
The complete plan of lacing is shown in Fig. 13; but the laces should not be pulled out in the middle to be tied round the waist, as in the illustration, but should be drawn down to the bottom of the stays, and fastened there at the back. This is very easy to do, and it saves the waist from the pressure of the cords. Indeed, whether the old or the new system of lacing is employed, this remark holds good and is of importance.
When stays are worn, the petticoats should be fastened on to buttons attached to them, and the underclothing can then be very simply and easily arranged as follows: Woollen combinations worn next the skin, stays to which the petticoat, or petticoats, are to be attached, and if the weather is cold, a woollen bodice may be added, but this is rarely required.
- ↑ 1 "Native Races of the Pacific States of North America," 1875, vol. i. p. 238.
- ↑ 2 See p. 56.
- ↑ 3 Plate 3 shows the natural position of some of these organs; the intestines, &c., are not shown, but should occupy the lower part of the figure.
- ↑ 4 Plate 4 when compared with Plate 3 shows the displacement of the chief vital organs. The abdominal organs which are not shown in the plates are displaced downwards in a similar manner.
- ↑ 5 "The People of Turkey," by a Consul's Daughter, vol. ii. p. 69.
- ↑ 6 See p. 67.