| Ladies' Hairstyles were as elaborate and complicated as the fashions of the time. "Hair is at once the most delicate and lasting of our materials, and survives us like love." - Godey's Lady's Book. Romantic films and novels have led us to believe that Victorian women were all endowed with shining masses of hair that either coiled magnificently into intricate coiffures or fell in silken cascades over dainty shoulders. The truth is far less glamorous. "The head is a long-suffering feature of society," wrote "Scribner's Monthly" in 1873. "Today it is compelled to have half a peck of braids stuffed with horse-hair or jute, heavy and hot, pressing and dragging on the little engine called the brain." Horse-hair, jute, flax, even rope that had been frayed and dyed were the secret of many of those glorious hairdos, along with tons of commercially processed human hair. Detractors called it "dead women's hair," while salesmen swore it came straight from the convent. In fact, most was actually sacrificed by lower-class girls who needed extra money. An advertisement in "Godey's Lady's Book" offered Ladies' Ornamental Hair such as Grecian curls arranged on a comb for $7 to $25 along with braids, puffs, switches and "frizettes" made of woven hair or of a fine wire to shape over the hair. By 1870 Americans were spending at least $2 million a year in the quest for fuller hair. "Well, at this moment three yards of hair are the fashion," Harper's Bazar" observed dryly. "Women who last week had hardly a hair to their heads, have now the full length required." Things had come to such a pass that warnings were issued to would-be rescuers of maidens in distress. "When a lady is in danger of drowning, raise her by the dress and not by the hair, which often times remains in the grasp," advised the magazine. But it wasn't hair alone that made for a stylish coiffure. Arrows with diamond heads sparkled among carefully arranged locks along with high-backed combs of delicately carved shell, some decorated with gold or inlaid with gems. Diamond chains encircled smooth plaits of hair. Gold and silver tasseled cords were twisted through braids to frame beautiful faces and hang down swanlike necks. Flowers also became an integral part of the elaborate new headdresses so vital to formal occasions. Clearly not everyone loved the chignon. "Peterson's Magazine" was particularly indignant. "Some ladies wear their chignons ridiculously high, and of an exaggerated size, with two extravagantly long curls at the back and in the place of ribbons." But for those around the world who devoured the Parisian reviews, chignons were essential. They were the ultimate foundation on which to build fantasies of ornamentation from tulle to tiaras adorned with velvet, ribbon, feathers, beads, jet and crystal. A style called the "coquette" featured a wreath of roses that dripped large crystal drops over the forehead, and a long spray of flowers from the chignon so it draped over the right shoulder as far as the waist. Even more spectacular, the "Neapolitan" set a row of roses, marabou tufts and fern leaves on top, allowing garlands of fine white flowers to fall like a veil over the chignon with a sprinkling of crystals over all. At this time, many women had hair all the way down their backs and even to their knees. The seven Sutherland sisters, who were said to have "The Longest Hair in the World", toured America with the Barnum and Bailey Circus. All of them had hair that brushed along the floor when they walked, giving them a combined length of 36 feet, 10 inches! Although this was an extreme case, it reflected the trend toward longer and longer hair. The ostentation ended with the 1890's as the Gibson Girl look emerged, described by "Harper's Bazar" as a modified pompadour tied in a soft, flat knot. Suddenly women across America were sweeping even the plainest of daytime styles smoothly upward in thick, loose waves and limiting decorations to bows, combs, jeweled clasps and occasional flowers. The Victorians were tinkerers. They felt that what nature could provide, man could improve, and hair was no exception. Thick hair was thinned regularly to relieve pressure on the brain or lopped off to avoid draining energy during prolonged illness. If the hair was thin or lifeless there were hundreds of remedies in magazines and household guides to increase thickness, and scores of patented products were available, many touted by physicians or so-called scientists of doubtful credentials. How often our ancestors washed their hair is a matter of speculation. Some advice books called for once a week, some for once a month with a daily damp sponging of the roots with cold water or an invigorating lotion. One guide told of a celebrated beauty at Munich who shampooed and brightened her hair with egg whites which were beaten to a froth, rubbed into the roots, allowed to dry, then washed out again with equal parts of rum and rose water. Another told how fashionable ladies all over Europe used "Honey Water: they concocted from prescribed amounts of ambergris, musk, bergamot, oil of cloves, orange-flower water, spirits of wine and distilled water. |
| HAIRSTYLES |