THE WHEEL OF FASHION.
TT is fairly clear that an important operation is being carried out in the world of fashion. The censorship in Paris is extremely strict, and it is impossible to predict with any certainty in what direction the next forced march will be begun. If, however, we are to put any faith in a report which has reached the papers from a usually trust- worthy source, we may expect in the course of the next few weeks to hear of a movement so far-reaching in its conse- quences as to eclipse any similar achievement of the last thirty years. Society is threatened, in short, with nothing less than a revival of the crinoline. -Unless, that is, something is done at once to stop it ; and with that object in view Mrs. Stannard has sent a letter to the papers begging for help. It seems that twelve years ago there was a scare of the same kind, and Mrs. Stannard only stopped it by getting twenty-one thousand women to write postcards pledging themselves to oppose the wearing of crinolines. She now wants one hundred and twenty- one thousand women to write postcards offering to join the No-Crinoline League, so that it may be made impossible for a leader of fashion to mention the word " crinoline " for a genera- tion. We sincerely hope that the requisite number of post- cards will be written ; and, for our part, at all events, it is gratifying to be able to give publicity to the rumour current in well-informed circles to the effect that a lady of fashion, who wishes to remain anonymous, has generously offered to write a thousand postcards herself, if a hundred and twenty other women will do the same.
We hope, then, that the anti-crinolinists will be successful in their campaign, and that it will soon be possible to state without the smallest fear of contradiction that the crinoline is not only dead but damned. But we are bound to say that we have our misgivings. Courageous as is the wording of the letter sent to the papers by the president of the No- Crinoline League, there is an undertone of real concern, almost of helplessness, in certain of its phrases. It is not the women, it seems, but the men who are to be feared. If the men who decide what women are to wear, and what shape they are to be in future, once put capital down and set the factories making steel hoops, then, practically, it is all up with everything. Twelve years ago, it appears, the factories actually did start making hoops, and for a short time the outlook was black enough, though the No-Crinoline League won in the end, and the men who ordered the hoops lost their money. This time, however, the crinolinists are said to be going to make a much greater effort. They believe that there is money in the notion, and are convinced that if once the fashion is set, every woman in London and the country will follow it.
It is lamentable to have to confess that we have no deep conviction that they are wrong. In making that confession we are quite prepared to be contradicted at once. Every man who mentions the subject to his wife will be told that the thing is impossible. We fear, however, that he will have only too much justification for gloomily shaking his head. For the arguments that he could bring forward to prove that if crinolines once came in, every woman would wear crinolines, are absolutely irresistible. " In the first place," he will be told, "I would never wear anything so hideous as a crinoline." His answer would be crushing. It is, simply, that the fact of a fashion being extremely hideous has never yet prevented women from following it. Although to exaggerate out of all proportion this or that part of the human anatomy is merely to create something monstrous, and therefore ugly, there has always been acquiescence in the making of the monster. There was never any fashion in the world, for instance, uglier than that which ordained, somewhere about the middle "eighties," that the draperies of a kind of semi- grand train should be arranged in a mountainous manner over what looked like a concealed bee-hive. Yet to appear to conceal a bee-hive in the train was a habit practically universal among women who cared for dress at that particular period. As to sleeves, there was a season about ten or twelve years ago when the right shape to be was to measure about seven feet from the outside edge of one puffed shoulder-sleeve to the outside edge of the other. A few seasons later the right shape was to measure about fifteen inches across, or as near as you could get to that. Later, again, you were allowed to be only moderately exaggerated above the elbow, but you had got to have the arm below the elbow puffed out to an extremely elephantine degree. Perhaps the shape of women's arms has altered more than the other shapes during the past few years ; but there have been, of course, other alterations. Only last year, the present writer believes he is right in stating, nearly all fashionable bodies altered almost simultaneously so as to become more like a figure of eight than they were the day before.
Possibly it would afford an interesting field for speculation as to what would happen if considerations as to the necessity
of altering their shape from time to time were to become an engrossing matter, not only for women, but for men. Really, when that point has once been suggested, it is impossible not to marvel at the opportunities of taking an intelligent interest in their measurements which men have hitherto wasted. No tailor, so far as we know, has ever yet made a fortune out of (let us say) humps. But why not ? Why should it not be suddenly decreed by some leader of men's fashion that the right shape for male human beings is to present the appearance of having a curved spine P A curve is, after all, a very graceful thing ; why in the world should men go on for year after year being shaped straight in the back when by taking only a moderate amount of trouble they might attain to the admirable proportions of a Punchinello P Why, if they care for clothes, should they be debarred from the extra gratification of making a fuss with their tailor over the proper fit of a hump-coat P " Turn the glass so that I can see how the seam sets over the hump "; or, " Will you have a button-hole in the hump-lapel ; and the usual hump-pocket, I suppose, Sir P "—surely it would be an interesting occupation for a man to be able to exchange remarks of that nature with his tailor. We dare say, indeed, that if once the hump really came in, few men whose reputa- tion for dressing with exactitude was worth anything would care to be seen in the Park without one. But if it is easy to understand that no man of fashion would want to look like a guy without a hump, if humps were the fashion, is it difficult to understand how impossible it must be for the most courageous of women to stand out against the decrees of those who are responsible for the design of her clothing ? She may cry out against her lamentable fate, but her cry, however earnest, how- ever well-intentioned, is merely the shriek of alarm of a person who is going to be run over by a locomotive and who cannot get off the permanent Way. She may signal despairingly to the engine-driver; but it is he, not she, who can stop the train. It is therefore, unfortunately, not only easy but absolutely safe to predict that if the crinoline comes, she will have to wear it. She will begin by declaring that nothing will induce her to adopt so meaningless and so hideous a fashion ; and for several weeks, no doubt, the knowledge that she possesses greater courage than other persons will sustain her as the ball-rooms and reception-rooms become every day more crowded with silk-covered cages and Venetian-blind contrivances for the nice disposition of steel-ribbed skirts. But the weeks will go on, and what was thought ugly and ridiculous will be thought merely a nuisance,—a dreadfully insidious change of outlook. Still, with a courage which you must possess to know how miserable it makes you, she will wander a lonely, pretty, stared-at, slight, and insignificant little figure, in a world tenanted by beings whose skirts are of a gracious feminine fulness, until one day, in the utter desolation of her unfashionable prettiness—. It is impossible to contemplate the end without emotion.
There is, perhaps, just one chance for her. No dress- maker, we believe, however accomplished an engineer, has yet designed a crinoline which enables its wearer to indulge in any other outdoor pursuits except archery, a rather apathetic form of croquet, and walking from one spot to another when there is no wind. Unless there happens to be such a thing as a divided crinoline, it would be impossible for a fashionable woman to bicycle. It would be extremely difficult for her to row a boat ; hockey would be a succession of total eclipses of the ball, and golf would be one long bunker,—unless, of course, you designed a special sort of club : a crinoline-mashie sounds really rather attractive. But after all, the mysterious persons who control the making of fashions have, so far as we know, nothing to do with any other game-playing than turning their own bright, unnecessary wheel. The wheel may or may not once more "come full circle." No doubt it will not, in this instance ; but the interesting point to notice is that the persons who will be made ridiculous and uncomfortable if it does have the most lamentable misgivings about the whole business. The thing may be upon them any day, and who are they to prevent it coming ?
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