A 19th-century doll’s dress

IN THE 19th-century, women did not especially denigrate femininity. They did not seek masculinity in all things or think modesty embarrassing. They were not, till the latter years of the century, infected with feminist-style self-loathing. Though Victorian society was not perfect at all, nor even the ideal, women were not plagued by envy of men.

The rich tradition of doll-playing of that era illustrates these historic attitudes. The doll was highly valued as a plaything for the young girl. Godey’s Lady’s Book of 1869, quoting Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, wrote of this approval, overstating a bit the case for the doll: “A doll is one of the most imperious wants, and at the same time one of the most delicious instincts, of feminine childhood… The first child is a continuation of the last doll. A little girl without a doll is nearly as unhappy and quite as impossible as a wife without children.”

After the Civil War, many well-to-do American homes spared no expense in providing daughters with dolls that came with elaborate wardrobes, including not just ornate dresses, but tiny gloves, lorgnettes, purses, earrings, bracelets, petticoats and even toothbrushes. These were the American Girl dolls of the day.  A current exhibit at the Philadelphia Art Museum titled “Little Ladies: Victorian Fashion Dolls and the Feminine Ideal,” running until March 3, displays samples of the best dolls from that era. Standing in plexiglass cases surrounded by their miniature accessories and adorned in highly-ornate and colorful silks, linens, furs, and wools, they are captivating objects.

It was interesting to note in the textual commentary of the exhibit and in remarks by visitors and the curator, the cognitive dissonance such an exhibit, with what one reviewer called its “darker implications,” causes in women today. No one could deny the beauty of these clothes, with such rich colors and ornamentation, or the very high level of craftsmanship.

But they represent oppressive patriarchy. They represent “indoctrination.” How then can they be enjoyed, even on a purely aesthetic level?

The answer is to take in the aesthetic experience while shaking your head, snickering and condescendingly reminding yourself that things are much better today.

I was reading a notation to one of the displays that quoted an advice book of the era. The text advised women to strive hard to please their husbands. Two women came along, read it and broke out in malicious laughter. I could not hear their comments to each other, but I was certain they were not complimentary to their soulmates. Did Victorian women, with all their faults, display open contempt for men? Did Victorian men, for that matter, with all their famous misogyny, display such contempt for their own wives?

“Men and women had rigidly defined social roles in Victorian society,” the curator Kristina Haugland writes, “And these were seen at the time as expressing the moral progress of civilization.” Rigid is a word that is never applied to the life of women today, despite the very demanding and uncompromising (i.e. rigid) steps entailed in getting into a good college or getting a good job.

Victorian women are presented as extremely status conscious. Even the mourning clothes of the wealthy, the curator said, were elaborate and displayed wealth. How it is possible to have highly beautiful and refined clothes without displaying wealth is a mystery. But we all know that women today do not seek status.

Many Victorian women were taught to do needlework, Haugland said. Thus they spent time making “useless things.” An odd thing for a curator to say given that much of art is useless. She also noted that Victorian women were advised by etiquette books not to dress in a slovenly way even when no one other than their husbands would see them. To this, the women who followed a tour of the exhibit, like the previous two, chortled and shook their heads. The idea, Ms. Haugland explained, was that sloppy dress was considered to lower the dignity of a woman. Imagine that!

Ms. Haugland disapprovingly pointed to an illustration in a fashion book which displayed the ideal in feminine form of that time: sloping shoulders, small waists and roundness below the waist.The clothes needed to achieve such a look were “impractical” and “restrictive.” They entailed complex undergarments. This is true. But they did not entail grueling workouts in gyms and were much more flattering to the woman with normal feminine bulges than yoga pants. It seems one could take very long strides — and get a lot done around the house — in skirts that wide.

But housework, we all know, is no longer necessary.

At the close of the exhibit a superior ideal is offered: the “working” Barbie dressed in a black suit with a laptop and a cellphone. The curator mentioned that Barbies still exist that come with housecleaning accessories. They are a shocking throwback to this “restrictive” and “rigid” period.

A simple-minded observer might wonder: If things were so bad back then, why are the clothes so much more beautiful? Does beauty matter? It’s an odd question to pose in a museum, but then museums are less and less places for aesthetic reflection and more and more places for political dialectics. Beauty is an illusion. Beneath it, there is only power.

Fortunately, we are informed, a woman who played with one of these exquisite dolls as a child escaped serious mental harm. She ended up earning a medical degree.

A doll can have only so much influence.

— Comments —

Sibyl N. writes:

This was a lovely post, and reminded me of a book my sister and I spent many hours looking at: “A is for Annabelle,” by Tasha Tudor. Here’s the link.

This was a magical book even for me, growing up in the 70s, during which I never wore dresses, never had long hair, and never was asked to create “useless things.” Yet this book was fascinating, with its miniature accessories — the only bad part of this book is that half the pictures were in black and white!

It is a shame that women can no longer find beautiful clothing for everyday living. The older I get the more I find that being actually “dressed” in feminine clothing leads to a sense of well-being and confidence.

And as for dolls, if little girls don’t want to play with them, fine. But I’ll bet most of the daughters of the mocking feminists at that exhibition still like them and would love to get their hands on the dolls and all those sweet clothes and accessories.

Laura writes:

Thank you.

Traditionally, sacred things are veiled and shielded from public view. The woman’s body, because it was viewed as more than an instrument of pleasure or utility, was veiled in a very becoming way in Victorian times. Feminists always, always, always portray modesty as disrespectful of women, when the exact opposite is true. On a practical level, the wide, full skirt had the great advantage of obscuring what is often the least lovely part of a woman and it also made many women look thinner and less lumpy.

The customs also showed great respect for the dead. Mourning periods came in stages and entailed different clothes for each stage — for those who could afford it. I wonder how that must have been a comfort to those in grief — to have a way of displaying it.

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