Page images
PDF
EPUB

Fashions.

HAVE the fashions changed? That is the question. Have they had time in Paris, in the midst of the grand military reviews and preparations in the midst of changes in helmets and uniforms-to issue orders and proclamations concerning the fashions, and to compose and conceive new bonnets and new cloaks? Fortunately, the Parisians have an Empress as well as an Emperor, and she rules over the fashions, or over the graces, as one of her subjects would say, not only with the sceptre of imperial power, but with the despotic rule of a pretty woman. Now fashions have, for many, many years, emanated from Paris, crossed the channel to London, bringing the winter fashions for a London spring— and thence, since there have been so many capital eities on this side of the Atlantic, have crossed over to the United States. Now, strange it is to say, that though these fashions literally are Parisian fashions, made and invented by real Parisian milliners and artistes, (that is the word now-a-days,) they so change and modify themselves in their travels, that it is almost impossible to recognize them when once they get to foreign countries. Perhaps, besides Fashion, it would be expedient that Taste, her handmaiden, should take a short trip across the water. But Taste is a most fastidious nymph, and rarely leaves her temple, which, beyond all doubt, is the Parisian capital.

To begin with the beginning-or rather with the essential: Dress is this season most costly, perhaps never was more so; for, in addition to the richness of the materials employed, the quantity and expense of the trimmings, without which a dress cannot now be made, render the winter prospects very appalling for the papas' and husbands' purses.

To ordinary silk dresses-those destined for the house-flounces are indispensable. Some have as many as eighteen, so small that they look like frills. Each of these is edged with a narrow worsted lace, the color of the silk, which is poussière de Sebasto- | pol-that is, to speak in intelligible, peaceful English, something between a gray and a dun color.

[ocr errors]

Furs, of course, are costly, and perhaps in no country more costly than in the United States; for, strange to say, the Baffin's Bay Fur Company in London furnishes Canadian and American furs at a much cheaper rate than they can be bought in any city of the United States. The prettiest furs for use are the darkest. Russian sable, of course, stands first in the list; then Canadian, and so on, to cheaper and commoner ones. Ermine has of late years been very much worn, but it appears totally out of place in the street, or applied to common purposes. It should never be united but with satin or velvet, and looks wofully dirty in the snow, and is certainly not fit for a muddy pavement. Imperial ermine is in St. Petersburgh worn only by the royal family. There is a special decree forbidding the sale of it to any but foreigners.

In Paris there is very little ermine worn in the streets; but this winter especially it has been adopted for opera cloaks, sorties de Bal, and all those elegant wraps which now are required to complete full dress.

White, pink, and blue, are of course the general colors for these garments, which are made short, to the knee, loose, and with long, wide sleeves. The material is sometimes Cashmere, but oftener satin. We have just seen one which is made of white satin, being trimmed all round with ermine, half a quarter deep, and having above the fur an arabesque embroidery in gold. This elegant garment is lined all through with white plush, so as to rest caressingly on the soft white shoulders it is destined to cover.

So much for furs and outer garments. Oh, no! we are forgetting a return to an old fashion-that, swansdown, which for years has almost exclusively been devoted to babies. It is now worn in demitoilette. The Princess M, the other day, had a white crape dress over white satin, trimmed with twelve rows of it on the skirt, and she looked like a vapory cloud, in the midst of all the rich dark bro cades, and the uniforms, by which she was surrounded.

Brocades-that is, those heavy silks with heavy flowers-are not so much worn as they were. There is a new kind of brocade which has taken the place of this one, consisting of alternate stripes of a rich satin figure, of two or more colors, and a stripe of black velvet of the same width: These dresses are, of

But flounces are not adapted for the streets in this weather, when the streets are flooded with rain or covered with snow; and our most distinguished ladies adopt trimmings of fur, which are quite a novelty, and certainly much to be admired. The fur is cut into wide strips, and placed round the skirt-course, not made with flounces; and the most eleeach strip gradually decreasing in width as it reaches the waist. As many as six of these are worn, though three are preferable. Now, with these dresses there is but one cloak to be worn-that is, one made of the same material as the dress, or of velvet of the same color, but trimmed with the same fur as the dress.

gant way of completing them, and giving them character, is to wear them with a polka jacket of velvet, of the same color as the stripe in the dress. These silks are, of course, very expensive, being sold as high as twenty-eight and thirty francs a yard, in Paris, and from ten to twelve dollars in New York and Philadelphia. Glacé silks of two colors are worn

-a favorite combination being pink and black, the black prevailing over the pink so as not to form a gaudy dress. A dress of this sort, trimmed with ten or fifteen rows of gathered pink ribbon, which ribbon was edged on each side with a narrow black lace, was one of the prettiest dresses in the trousseau of one of the most fashionable brides of this season in Paris. With this dress, a polka of the same material, and trimmed in the same manner, had been made; but as it was intended to be worn in the evening, another polka of black lace, trimmed with pink satin ribbon ruches, had been added. In this dress and polka more than eighty yards of ribbon were consumed.

Now come we to one of the principal articles of ladies' dress; one of the most general interest; one which has undergone a complete revolution-we mean the bonnet. The bonnet is no longer the wide, flaring plate at the back of the head, which for the two last years has been so criticized, quizzed, and laughed at whilst those who had to wear them, caught colds in the head heroically, and pushed their bonnets perseveringly through two whole summers and two whole winters, without a murmur, fully persuaded, as they were, that they were looking like saints with halos round their heads, as the ancient masters have painted them.

Now, all this is exploded. The bonnets, first condescending to fit the shape of the head, actually stay on without pulling; and then coming close round the face, inclose it in a frame work of flowers, lace, and ribbon, than which nothing can possibly be more becoming.

These bonnets, though thickly trimmed with ruches and flowers in front, have very little trimming on the outside, and nothing at all glaring or gaudy. The bonnets are of two harmonious colors; but almost always white blonde is brought in contact with the face, and its softening influence is, after all, the most becoming thing that can be invented. Under these bonnets the hair is worn à la Marie Stuart-that is, turned back smoothly in a roll, and fastened behind the ear. Curls, short and light, too, are the fashion, and very full bandeaux. The back hair is worn in a simple twist behind-the front parting being very far behind. In full dress, wreaths are worn, which just fit round this twist. These wreaths are composed of long trailing roses, or lycopodiums, or creeping plants, which after entwining the head, descend gracefully over the neck and shoulders, or, as the head turns, or droops, play over the bosom or mingle with the tendrils of the hair.

For negligè dress, long bows of black velvet are worn on one side of the head; or little round and pointed pieces of black lace are laid on the top of the head-these pointed caps, if caps they can be called, being specially worn with the Marie Stuart fashion of the hair, so as to imitate the style of head-dress worn by that unfortunate Queen of Scotland, who in the hey-day of her youth and beauty, as Queen of France, once led the fashions in the gay Court of the Louvre.

Shoes are much worn in home costume; but then they must have heels and rosettes, like those we see in old pictures, peeping from beneath the skirts of our great-grandmothers, and which are so becoming-either the skirt or the shoe-that Shenstone has said

"The very shoe beneath a hoop has power to wound."

A propos of hoops-they appear to threaten to come into fashion again-for some of the skirts of the dresses in Paris have a very thin whalebone inserted in the hem-particularly those dresses which, from the number of flounces, become heavy. By-the-bye, in making these dresses with so many flounces, care should be taken not to make the skirt of the dress itself too full, for it mars the effect of the whole. There should be but one more breadth in the flounces than in the skirt.

Flowing under-sleeves are not much worn. The sleeves of the dresses themselves are worn flowing, but the muslin or lace leeve, indispensable underneath, is confined at the wrist. Many of these are made of plain tarlatane, very full, and confined at equal distances by bows of ribbon matching the prevailing color of the dress.

Gloves for evening parties-white kid gloves we mean-are embroidered in gold; but this is an ugly fashion, and good taste should eschew it. The gauntlet top, however, now so much adopted to the street glove, is a very good innovation-it hides the hiatus of naked wrist between the termination of the sleeve and the beginning of the glove, and now, in winter, keeps the hand warm.

Embroidery of every kind is the fashion-from the unmentionable under-garment in fine linen, to the much-talked-of and visible ball dress and opera cloak

Flounces are embroidered in silk, in worsted, in cotton; skirts are embroidered; flannels are embroidered; every article of children's clothing is embroidered; muslins are embroidered; and even the costly velvets are embroidered in heavy silks.

So much the better! Let the rich and elegant pay their gold to the lowly needle! Let woman make woman live, and the brilliant ball-room bring comfort to the lowly garret. "Fashion," when it requires the skill and time of those who have only the labor of their fingers to rely on, will be the best preservative against "Famine."

[ocr errors]

So much for dress, and all its hundred appurtenances, which give so much occupation to such a numerous class of the fair sex, including those whose only object in life is to know what they shall put on." Now, let us see the intellectual turn fashion is taking. In England, young ladies learn German; in France, English is the fashion; in the United States, French is the rage. With what success all these languages are acquired, it is not necessary to relate. However, it is but right to say, that, however imperfect and superficial young ladies' studies are, it is the fashion to study, or to pretend to study. Ignorance is not the fashion. Not to know the history of one's country; to make gross mistakes as to latitudes and

longitudes; is no longer interesting-and a vulgar ungrammatical use of words is no longer tolerated. Slang, too, is completely exploded. Fast young ladies shock and disgust even fast young men.

An accomplishment much neglected in former days, and absolutely indispensable now, is to be able to write a good letter, and a pretty note. Balzac says, that Paris contains twenty thousand Sevignés. Though it is impossible to learn the wit and style of this far-famed epistolarian, it is indispensable to write a good hand, to write straight, to write to the purpose-to have proper note-paper-not a piece torn off of some younger sister's copy-book; to use a proper envelop, and a seal-mind, a seal, and not a wafer. Of all unrefined and inexcusable things, a big, red, wet wafer is the worst.

Queen Victoria is said to write the best note of any woman in her kingdom-where, it must be confessed, all women write. She uses plain, thick, highly-glazed paper; writes a somewhat large hand; folds her paper lengthways, puts it into a plain white envelop, and seals it with red wax, and a seal on which there is simply a crown.

Another art that we are reviving now, in our bustling age, is one professed long ago by the patient nun in her silent cloister-the art of making guipure. Now, few know, except patrician ladies of Europe, and actresses-both the best connoisseurs of lace and diamonds-what guipure is. It is not what the salesmen of New York and Philadelphia will offer to you as real guipure, or gimpure, as they pronounce it, and print it too. Well! historical research, and a study of languages, are not necessary to sell dry goods. Real guipure has not been made for the last three hundred years-and never was made except in convents. It is that heavy-looking, creamy lace, with large patterns, that we see in all old pictures. Vandyke, Holbein, Titian, Giorgione, Sir Peter Lely, have all given us in their pictures specimens of this magnificent and wonderful texture, which was then worn equally by princes and princesses, and by all the high dignitaries of the church. Guipure, indeed, was first manufactured solely for the church and the altar, till some of the early Spanish princesses adopted it, and Catherine de Medieis brought it into France from Florence, where it had been, as in all the Italian courts, long the appendage of every high dame's dress. Venitian point, to this day, is the most precious and the finest

texture.

Now this texture, which is so solid as to be intact at the end of three, four or five centuries, is the patient handiwork of the pious nuns-the only materials used being thread and needle. Though some of these magnificent arabesque patterns would appear to be cut out of large pieces of linen cloth, thickened and embellished with embroidery, it is not so; but all, even the very tissue, which looks like linen, is made by the thickness of thread passed to and fro. It took two or three successive generations of patient spider-like nuus, to complete some of the altar-pieces of point, in Spanish convents. The gentle sister

year after year, would sit at the frame and bend over her task, till her aged eyes grew dim, and then other brighter eyes would come and bend over the same task. Often, when a piece of this guipure was taken from its frame complete, and carried in triumph to the high altar, the very name of the sister who had designed its meandering and graceful foliage was forgotten, and the hands which had first worked at it were mouldering in the convent cemetery.

But we grow sentimental over a piece of lace, when all we meant to tell was, that the art of mak ing this guipure is said to have been found in the annals of an old convent of Rouen, and that the Empress Eugènie and the young court which surrounds her, have taken to making guipure. Guipure is still the height of fashion. It went out with the Bourbon dynasty in France, and was not brought into requisition until about fifteen years ago, when it became the rage, and has remained ever since the height of distinction. In Europe, every old family, when the fashion came to be revived, found piles of this lace by the family diamonds, but those who had no hereditary diamonds, and no ancestors, were forced to buy it where they could. Now many of the old village curés in Brittany and Normandy, who had whole coffers of this mouldy lace in their vestries, very properly brought it forth, and conveyed it to the marchands de bric-a-brac (old curiosity shops) in Paris; and with the price of these pelerines, collars and berthas, the cunning old curés have constructed solid, comfortable churches, and no less comfortable parsonages.

There is very little real guipure in America. For, though the May-Flower brought over so many things, and came over at the very time guipure was the height of fashion, its sage and stately matrons were not likely to bring any thing which, like this lace, recalled the painted dames and the follies of the court from which they fled.

As we have talked so much about this one most costly of laces, which is amongst lace what the diamond is amongst other precious stones, why not go on and complete a small catalogue raisoné of the various kinds of this beautiful texture, which forms so important an item in the dress of the present day?

Next, then, to the guipure, or old point lace, comes Alençon; which is also an ancient fabric, but which, within the last ten years, the industry of the bourgeoise of Alençon and Angers has endeavored to revive. Point d'Alençon, the real old Alençon, is worth as much as forty francs, or eight dollars a yard, when from four to five inches wide.

Next comes Brussels lace, a comparatively modern invention, but the most expensive of the modern manufactured laces. The whole of the Brussels lace is appliqué-that is, the thick part, or flowers, are made separately and sewed afterward on to Brussels net, whether to form lace caps, collars, or flounces, dresses or scarfs. But within the last few years, a species of lace, called Brussels point, has been made. which in pattern imitates the old point, but wants its solidity and weight. Almost all this lace of Brus

sels manufacture requires to be made in dark, damp cellars. One sees the poor, sallow girls emerge at dusk, with fevered hands, flushed cheek, and hectic cough, into the cutting winds of the Brussels streets, having earned a franc and a half a day, with some feeling of remorse to think that youth and life should be sacrificed to the mere manufacture of a luxury. Perhaps one of the reasons which makes Brussels lace so expensive is, that, apart from the material and the time, it costs yearly no small amount of human life.

Honiton, a texture so like Brussels as scarcely to be distinguished from it, is made in England-in Devonshire originally, of course at the village from which it takes its name; but since it has been so extensively in demand, almost all the towns of Devonshire have produced it. Eugland, too, produces its Buckinghamshire and Bedfordshire lace; which has a certain value, is durable and pretty, but not paid at all in proportion to the time and trouble it takes in making.

The process of making lace is not generally known. It is briefly this: a large cushion stuffed with straw-or rather bolster, for it has that formis carefully covered with a clean linen cloth; on this the pattern meant to be made is placed, pricked on a parchment, then by means of pins, bobbins, or long spools having fine thread on them, are attached, and the lace-maker begins her operations-working with these bobbins, and putting a pin in at every stitch, which forms the ground-work of the lace. A good lace-maker in England, working from ten to twelve hours, may make about four pence per day.

Besides these, which are real laces, England has produced from her looms of Nottinghamshire, imitations of every kind of lace ever made-all in great perfection, and so cheap as to have done great injury to the real article-solidity having been the only quality the loom could not imitate.

Ireland, too, has produced her Limerick lace, which is net, embroidered with flowers-a most elegant texture, and which for flounces, until it is washed, produces the effect of Brussels lace. Lace dresses of the Limerick texture are much worn in England. They are very beautiful; and, but for the idea (and how much there is in an idea, fashion only knows,) look full as well as Brussels-only, a Limerick lace dress can be had for ten dollars, whilst one of real Brussels costs two hundred dollars at the least.

Now have we Flanders lace and Lisle lace, all most beautiful textures-the Lisle being a fine, vapory fabric, which has the qualities of steel. Then come we to the most beautiful, the most useful, the most expensive and the cheapest, the most distinguished, and the commonest of all laces-immortal Valenciennes. Take it all in all, this lace cannot be surpassed. It has withstood every variation of fashion; and from the tiny Valenciennes round the new-born babe's first cambric garment, to the nineinch Valenciennes which winds round the cambric handkerchief that dries the tears of the royal bride,

there is nothing that for design, solidity, color or texture, can approach this most exquisite of fabrics. Valenciennes is made at Cambray and at Valenciennes; but much of that coarser kind used for under clothes, is made at Dieppe. This latter kind is in Europe much cheaper; but in the United States it all keeps the highest price. Few, indeed, are able to distinguish the difference.

So much for the labors of the human spider. These are the webs she weaves-webs, too, in which many unwary flies are caught; for the round arm and snowy shoulder are never seen to greater advantage than through the wavy folds of this airy fabric, and we cannot sufficiently recommend that its softening folds should be employed as often as possible. But we would add one word in a whisper; or rather we will tell a little well-known anecdote of a great beau, and then reverse it, and so bid you adieu.

When Brummel reigned in London, and made all the world dress as he pleased, he introduced for the first time, broad, white, stiff cravats. Now he came after an era of limp wisps, and nobody could imagine how he achieved the aching stiffness which so upheld his haughty head. All applied to him for the secret; but Brummel scorned to reply, or to look down from the height of his cravat. At length, when he was about to throw aside the fashion, to the sister of a young beau who was languishing life away in his utter helplessness, Brummel deigned to write on his card, with his golden pencil, "The magic word is starch." So we say to you, fair reader, with reference to lace, the magic word is starch; but starch is the word by which you destroy the magic of lace, mar its effect, and take away its charm. As you love lace, eschew starch! Let not one come near the other! Lace should not stick round like the quills of the "fretful porcupine;" but following every graceful undulation of form, should flow around the person like a cascade, and veil it like a cloud.

A topic which of late years has interested our young community beyond every other-is music. This accomplishment, brought to great perfection in the education of our young girls, renders it essential that we should have a little chat with our readers upon musical subjects and events. Some two or three years since, there would have been the advent of many European artists to announce; but since the terrible and most unexpected failure of several of the great artists which Europe spared us, the artists have not been tempted by the wonderful offers of speculators, and have learned to distrust American enthusiasm. Of the six musical stars who have come here, after having achieved the very highest success and reputation in Europe, but two have really succeeded-Jenny Lind and Sontag. They alone have made more money than they could have done during the same period of time in Europe. They alone excited the enthusiasm to which the European public has accustomed them. As for Catharine Hayes, she failed most completely-but

[ocr errors]

are two of the first requisites for singing a bailad well-one of the most difficult achievements. Moore's exquisite melodies have been too much neglected. They are a mine of wealth to the ballad-singer. Amongst the contemporary composers of ballad-,

and feeling, and he never writes music to mere verses, but takes care to get poetry.

then she came directly after Jenny Lind, and people | their full expression. Enunciation and accentuation had been suspended in ecstasy so long, that they could not so soon get up another excitement on the same subject. It is just to say, however, that Catharine Hayes was but a pale copy of Jenny Lind, and really was, after all, a second-rate artist. But Alboni-the joy and wonder of the artistic world-Linley ranks first. His songs are all full of melody the great artist, with a voice deep, melodious and sweet, like the voice of a consoling angel-to let her go coldly away, neglected, unapplauded, forgotten before the ship which bore her had reached the other side of the Atlantic! This is a sad stain on our mu sical taste, of which, however, New York ought in a great measure to bear the blame-as it does, of course, completely the thorough inappreciation of the two great artists of the age, Mario and Grisi. They have listened to them with coldness, almost with disdain, and scarcely known whether to applaud or not. In point of money, the result of this visit to the United States is of very little importance to Mme. Grisi, for she is richer than most of her patrons. But in point of artistic satisfaction, it must be mortifying, and will certainly, with the failure of Alboni, give New York a reputation which will keep all great artists away for a long time. We shall have a musical interregnum.

Now, if this could have one effect on our musical young ladies, we should not regret it. If the absence of opera would cause the absence of cavatinas in private, and substitute simple songs and ballads, we should let the opera go with somewhat less regret. If young amateur ladies would for an instant remember the time, study, and effort required by all singers to reach the point at which they acquire fame, they would see that it is materially impossible for them to give effect to a bravura. Then, it seems injudicious to sing to one's friends what they hear so much better sung for a dollar or fifty cents every night; and it certainly is very mortifying, after a lady amateur has done her best, to be greeted with a "Thank you! does n't Madame so and so sing that divinely!" meaning, of course, that the lady amateur do n't. But there are, even in Italian, beautiful, simple airs, not written for operas, per camera, which are well calculated to make the amateur singer, by avoiding the contrast, avoid the comparison with the artist. Gabussi, amongst the modern writers, has written many such Italian ballads; Donizetti, a whole collection, in his "Soirées de Pausilippe;" Rossini another, "Soirées Musicales;" Alary, the graceful composer; Mercadante, the scientific and melodious, and even ponderous and magnificent Mayerbeer have condescended to furnish music for private use. Then, in the German language, we have Schubert, and Mendelssohn, and Kucken, and a whole crowd-all of whom have been translated into pronounceable English.

But there is nothing so graceful for a young girl to sing as an English ballad-which I would have her select as much for the words as for the music; and before she learns the music I would counsel her thoroughly to study the words, so as to give them

The same rule that has been laid down for vocal music applies to instrumental music. Bravuras on the piano-forte, airs with twenty variations-which means twenty ways of spoiling a melody-capric cios, which bang and fly from one end of the piano to the other-fantasies which the wildest fancies cannot follow, unless interpreted by the artists themselves-these are not for us. Happily, the Herz school, with its florid scales and shakes and quavers, and the Thalberg school, with its three-handed im possibilities, are going out, and a more rational school is becoming the fashion. We do not wish to go back to the classics: nor do we think that it is necessary that a musician should have written a hundred years ago for his music to be good; but we love a classic style of music in point of taste-music that has soul, melody and expression-that can be understood by the intellect and the feelings; not music that sounds like dusting the key-board with a crash-not music that requires ten hours practice a day over the same ten pages-not music that people get up and lean over, to see the wonderful mechanism and movement of the fingers and hands. There are innumerable German composers of the kind we mean; and there is one more exquisite than all. Though his music is very difficult, it is not scramblingly difficult, and will reward the trouble of conquering-that is, Chopin.

|

The latest and most interesting item in the artistic news of the month, is the visit of Mdlle. Rachel, the great French tragedienne, to the United States. It is stated that a deep sorrow, incident to the death of a beloved sister, was chiefly instrumental in determining her to this step-as she hoped to find, in change of scene, some distraction from her settled grief.

We have not the space allowed us, this month, to speak of Rachel as we should desire, or as her fame deserves. Her genius is of a kind almost unknown here, and will startle and bewilder by its intense simplicity. Rachel is an enthusiastic republican, and has already cherished American freedom amongst her most precious dreams. She will return to France with a store of deep observations and grateful memories-for her heart is as susceptible as her intellect is acute. Genius, which is the most difficult thing to describe, is defined by Rachel in an instant. As she walks upon the stage, at the first word she utters, one draws back in awe-genius has penetrated our souls for the first time. This is the unknown power we cannot analyze, we cannot criticize, but before which we stand spell-bound, with distended eye and beating heart.

[ocr errors][ocr errors]
« PreviousContinue »