Retro Blast: Fun in the Sun...Not

Not being fond of being out in the sun, I very much embrace wearing one of my large, floppy hats whenever I stir outside in summer. Maybe I should consider a parasol as well; it would certainly help with physical distancing. This post originally appeared in 2008...enjoy!

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This parasol is not Victorian—I’m guessing it’s ca. early twentieth century—but the tassel and beautiful repoussé silver handle (I wish it showed up better in the photo) are a definite reminder of earlier days.

The ideal of feminine beauty up until the early twentieth century was a fair, white complexion. To some degree, this probably had its origins in economics: if you were pale and soft-skinned, it meant you didn’t spend your time out of doors working in the fields or taking care of farm animals...which meant your family could afford to have other people do that work for you.

Of course, that didn’t mean you never stirred out-of-doors...but it did mean that when you did go out for a stroll around the garden or a gentle trot down the Ladies’ Mile in Hyde Park, or for a visit to the seashore, you used a parasol, wore a hat (and often a veil swathed over your face) and wore gloves to keep the skin of your hands equally white. Like this young lady of 1815, attired for walking.

And if (oh, horrors!) you were negligent and let your parasol drag behind or used it to keep obnoxious suitors at bay, then you rushed home to apply one of the dozens of commercially prepared lotions, like “Godfrey’s Extract of Elder Flowers...To be had of any respectable Perfumer or Medicine Vendor in Bottles at 2s. 9d. each” which promised to “...communicate a refreshing coolness and softness to the skin, and completely remove Tan, Pimples, and cutaneous Eruptions....”

By the late nineteenth/early twentieth century, this attitude had changed. As more young women of the lower economic classes took jobs in factories and shops and offices, having a tan (a light one, mind you—just a glow) implied that you had the leisure time to engage in healthy outdoor pursuits like tennis or golf or riding and weren’t stuck indoors all day, working for a living...in other words, a completely opposite attitude!

Retro Blast: Flirting with Parasols

I am not a sun-worshipper. In summer I can usually be found seeking any available patch of shade, slathered in sunscreen and wearing a large hat. I heartily wish parasols would make a comeback: they're fun and stylish...and evidently, one can do a lot more with them than use them to ward off unwelcome UV rays, as we learned from this 2009 post about Daniel Shafer's 1877 Secrets of Life Revealed. Enjoy!

I must say that I regret that parasols are no longer in fashion—a pity, as they have a long history stretching back to the ancient world (yes, Babylonian and Greek women—and men!—used parasols to fend off the fierce middle eastern sun.) The thing is, they’re just incredibly useful: you can carry around some shade with you on a hot summer day, create your own flattering lighting by carrying a parasol of just the right color, or make a decided fashion statement by coordinating your parasol with the rest of your ensemble. And when furled, a parasol makes a fine instrument of self-defense that doesn’t require a license to carry!

And of course, they’re such fun to flirt with—peeking coyly from underneath them, or swinging them insouciantly at one’s side…the possibilities are endless! Daniel Shafer certainly recognized this fact, and furnishes the following tips on how to flirt with parasols:

Like the Handkerchief, Glove, and Fan, the "Parasol" has its important part to play in flirtations, and we give the following rules regulating the same: 

Carrying it elevated in left hand:  Desiring acquaintance

Carrying it elevated in right hand:  You are too willing

Carrying it closed in left hand:  Meet on the first crossing

Carrying it closed in right hand by the side:  Follow me

Carrying it over the right shoulder:  You can speak to me

Carrying it over the left shoulder:  You are too cruel

Closing up:  I wish to speak to you

Dropping it:  I love you

End of tips to lips:  Do you love me?

Folding it up:  Get rid of your company

Letting it rest on the right cheek:  Yes

Letting it rest on the left cheek:  No

Striking it on the hand:  I am very displeased

Swinging it to and fro by the handle on left side:  I am engaged

Swinging it to and fro by the handle on the right side:  I am married

Tapping the chin gently:  I am in love with another

Twirling it around:  Be careful; we are watched

Using it as a fan:  Introduce me to your company

With handle to lips:  Kiss me

I hope you’ve enjoyed these tips on how to secretly communicate with fans, gloves, handkerchiefs, and parasols…it’s rather like a 19th century form of texting, isn’t it?

Accessories, Part 8: More Parasols

We’re back for another installment in our fashion series on NineteenTeen focusing not on dresses and gowns (gorgeous as they are) but on the little things that complete a fashionable ensemble—hats, shoes, gloves, purses, and other accessories

Back in February we looked at parasols from the first two decades of the 19^th century; here are examples from the next fifteen years. Look for lots of images rather than commentary, though I’ll try to supply original text if I have it—the point is to be able to examine multiple examples of each item. Images are drawn from my collection of prints from British publications including Ackermann’s Repository, La Belle Assemblée, Lady's Magazine, and the Court Magazine. However, Ackermann’s had the most detailed plates, so the majority of images you’ll see will be from that publication.  These date from 1819-1834.

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, May 1819.  Notice that this parasol has a full handle grip and a band of fabric to keep it furled when not in use.

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, September 1821.  Note the tiny hooked end of the handle.

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, April 1822. Here you can clearly see a ring on a ribbon to help keep the parasol furled when not in use.

Public Promenade Dress, La Belle Assemblee, October 1824.  An elaborately turned shaft, hooked handle, and ring furler.
 

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, July 1825. A finely machine-turned shaft--and two colors!

 

Morning Promenade Dress, Lady's Magazine, July 1825. "Chinese parasol of grass-green edged with white." 

Sea Side Dress, Lady's Magazine, August 1825. Either the artist lost track of his scale, or that is one large parasol!
 

 

Garden Costume, Ackermann's Repository, November 1825. "...rose-colour parasol, lined with white, and an antique wreath round the edge."

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, July 1826. The finial looks lethal!

Sea-Side Costume, Ackermann's Repository, September 1827. The shaft appears to be of bamboo.

Walking Dress, La Belle Assemblee, June 1832.

Morning Dress, The Court Magazine, September 1832.
 

Public Promenade Dress, The Court Magazine, October 1833. What a pretty one! Note the ring up near the finial to keep it furled.

 

Walking Dress, The Court Magazine, October 1834. Printed fabric for parasols seems to be a trend.

So are you with me? Bring Back the Parasol!

Accessories: Parasols, Part 7

We’re back for another installment in our fashion series on NineteenTeen focusing not on dresses and gowns (gorgeous as they are) but on the little things that complete a fashionable ensemble—hats, shoes, gloves, purses, and other accessories.

Our accessory of the week is the parasol, vital for the preservation of a lady’s clear, un-sunburnt complexion—don’t forget, sun worship is a twentieth century phenomenon. And that isn’t all they were good for: they could be a tool for flirtation (or a useful item for fending off too determined a suitor!) And aren’t they just plain fun?

I’m dividing our look at parasols into two posts, though they were much more popular an accessory earlier on than they were into the 1820s and 1830s. Look for lots of images rather than commentary, though I’ll try to supply original text if I have it—the point is to be able to examine multiple examples of each item. Images are drawn from my collection of prints from British publications including Ackermann’s Repository and La Belle Assemblée. However, Ackermann’s had the most detailed plates, so the majority of images you’ll see will be from that publication.  These date from 1806-1815.

Happy accessorizing!

Kensington Garden Promenade Dresses, La Belle Assemblee, June 1806.

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, July 1809.  You'll notice in these earlier prints that most of the parasols match some aspect of the dress or pelisse/wrap. I love the net trim on this one.

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, August 1809.  Aren't the tassels adorable?

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, September 1809.

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, October 1809. One thing that has interested me is that in many of these prints, the parasol was held by the top rather than the handle when not actually open.

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, June 1810.  The text describes this as a "Chinese parasol, with deep awning of white silk." 

Promenade Dresses, Ackermann's Repository, July 1810.  I imagine that going out for a walk with a friend might be dangerous if you were both carrying parasols.

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, August 1810. This one appears to have a double flounce. Notice also the shaped handle. It is a "Parasol of green Chinese silk, with deep awning."

 

Promenade Morning Dress, La Belle Assemblee, August 1810. A plaid parasol!

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, June 1811. Very natty, green with white trim.

 Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, August 1811. That's one way to keep the kids amused...

 Promenade Costume, Ackermann's Repository, September 1811. "...parasol corresponding with the cloak, with deep Chinese awning."

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, July 1812. Note the little hook at the end of the handle--the first we've seen in these prints.

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, August 1812. "...parasol of correspondent shot sarsnet, with deep ball-fringed awning."

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, September 1812. "Parasol of blue shot silk, with deep Chinese frings." 

 Morning Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, July 1813. Note that while the handle is straight, there's a little hook on the end of this parasol! Useful for retrieving a dropped reticule, I suppose.

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, September 1813. "A large Eastern parasol, the colour of the mantle, with deep Chinese awning."  This may be my favorite parasol--it's so architectural! 

Promenade Dress, Ackermann's Repository, October 1814.  Here's something we've not yet seen--a carrying loop at the top!

 

 

Walking Dress, Ackermann's Repository, May 1815. "Parasol of straw-coloured silk."

We'll have a look at parasols from 1815 through the 1830s in our next Accessories post...and now I'll go lurk in the corner and have quiet parasol envy. ☺