Extending the Charm
One admirer's
perspective On petticoats, crinolines, hoops and farthingales
By Tes Staylace
Copyright 1998
Part Two of Two Parts
Subscribers can catch up with Part One
Remember! We alternate between "Petticoat Pond" and "Tightlacing Topics" (my URL for corsetry is http://www.staylace.com
Feel free to write me at staylace@staylace.com! All e-mail will be answered.
Wide skirts, whether in the form
of hoops, crinolines, farthingales or voluminous petticoats
alone, are a direct barometer of the times. Skirts become paltry
during times of war and unrest, not only because of the scarcity
of material, but of the mood of the women, preoccupied with
thinking about their men who are away, busying themselves in
their support. No time for encumbrances. Witness the American
Civil War: The bell-shaped Southern Belle lost her
"pouf" for the interim. However, after almost every
such period, there comes about a widening of the skirt. Recent
examples include World War II (Dior), the Korean conflict
(teenage rock-and-roll skirts and cocktail dress crinolines), and
the Vietnam conflict (bouffant evening dresses and gowns). Now
that the Cold War is over, we see pouf returning, even if only as
a choice.
Ever wonder what became of the
large mass of excess lacing which resulted from tight lacing
corsets in times gone by? Well, many times, it was simply drawn
through the eyelet which formed at the waistband of the petticoat
where it fastened in the rear. There, this "ball of
laces" provided a pleasant upswing of the silhouette at the
rear, especially in times when bustles were not in vogue.
The crinoline hoop (horsehair over
a rigid frame) was an innovation born of the fact that as many as
seventy pounds of heavy petticoats were worn at one time to keep
nineteenth century lades skirts propped. The hoop did,
indeed, alleviate milady of such weight, but offered the
disadvantages mentioned elsewhere in this piece. Soon, however,
concern began to emerge concerning the untidy look of the
"hoopline" under the skirt the outline of the
hoop structure clearly seen from without. In response, many women
began to wear one or two or even three petticoats OVER their
crinoline cages to soften or eliminate these hooplines. Back to
square one! This added weight again, and reduced the
effectiveness of the cage in reducing such.
One might think that
"hooplines" were only a consideration during the last
century; that this was not a subject of discussion in modern
history. The fact is, there was a short time in The Fifties when
hoops were the rage, worn over crinolines
and more
crinolines. However, the term "crinoline" in the Eisenhower
era, was differently defined. During this period, the term
referred to a knee-length petticoat, usually made of stiff
netting or some other such material (even though horsehair was
not unknown). In Europe, any skirt propped up by a crinoline was
known as a "rock-n-roll" skirt, and the petticoat
underneath was a "can-can slip." Generally, a crinoline
was never known by anything else but its nineteenth century
definition in parts of the world outside of the United States.
History does repeats itself! It
was considered improper amongst the teen-agers who boosted this
fad to allow the lines of the hoops under their skirts to be
seen. To eliminate these lines, they wore crinolines OVER the
hoops, making the silhouette even wider! This, of course, almost
guaranteed that an observer would be treated to some wonderful
glimpses of underskirt. This writer once beheld such a
sight
.and it will remain embedded in mind forever, as an example
of delightful overindulgence. The wearer veritably
"floated" into the room, and the eyes of every male
could not keep anywhere else! A memory with a halo around it!
Ellen Melinoff, in What We Wore -- An Offbeat Social History of
Women's Clothing, 1950 to 1980, printed solicited comments about the era. Some of
them, regarding hoops, were very telling:
(pg 69) "There was a girl in
my school--a real sosh--who always wore her hoopskirt with such
aplomb. She'd sashay down the aisles between the desks (to sit
with a boy! in the eighth grade!) without it once ever flipping
up. Not even the school bus was her undoing like it was for the
rest of us "mere mortals." And the ridge of her hoop
never showed through her skirt either. Not showing the hoop line
was like not having VPL today. She must have topped her hoop with
layers of crinolines. She wore this very long and with real
Capezios." [Ellen Ekman]
(pg 65) "In the fifth grade
(1957), full skirts hit. The fuller, the better. So we wore not
one, not two, but three or more petticoats, starched stiff. When
that wasn't enough, we learned to wear a hoopskirt. I say learned
because it took practice to learn to seat yourself without the
hoop flying up in front of you. I remember my mother suggesting
that I could wear just one petticoat. Couldn't I see how much
more graceful it looked, wearing just one? Of course not. What
was the point of wearing just one? The fuller, the better.."
[Lyn Messner]
Fifties fashion designer Anne
Forgarty, an icon of the era, was dubbed "Petticoat
Queen" for her advocacy of the flared and bouffant skirt. In
her book "Wife Dressing" (1959), she relates a story
concerning her husbands bout with these beautiful
creations. She came home one night after a long day to find him
sound asleep, his head pressed against a large mound of
petticoats as a result of rolling over. Apparently, she had been
sorting them earlier, and had left them on part of the large bed;
he had fallen asleep on the other half. Upon hearing her, he
awoke and greeted her, but only after exclaiming that he thought
he had died and gone to heaven! For, when his eyes opened in the
fog of sudden awakening, he found himself immersed in a
cloud-like atmosphere, soft and delicate, and totally out of
touch with reality. (Many present-day women think we are too!) I
think we can all relate to that!
In conclusion, certain ladies,
who, throughout The Fifties, very rarely could be found without
their frou-frou, should be cited. These women understood the
attractiveness of these wonderful undergarments, and how they
enhanced their femininity. They were fortunate enough to live in
a era where such attire was consider fashionable, but when
existed many women who shunned crinolines and petticoats,
preferring to wear their fuller skirts and dresses "sans
petti."
So, a broad salute to Connie
Stevens, June Allyson, Shelley Fabares, Grace Kelly, and Ann
Sothern. They will live in our memories forever, symbols of what
we all miss so much. In addition, a special honor goes to Wynona
Judd, the contemporary country-and-western singer who never
needed an excuse to wear her full crinolines on stage and
elsewhere, whether considered fashionable at the time or not! A
bright and shining star. Too bad her daughter (and duetist),
Naomi Judd, chose not to follow in her foot-steps. A fallen star,
in our book.
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