Various cosmetics were available in the 1850s and '60s: the most common skin preparations appear to be 'white powders' (some are liquid or paste), and red coloring agents (rouges, carmine, 'soaps'). 'Hair restoratives' (and/or dyes), pomades, and hair oils are also mentioned. Scents were popular, even ubiquitous. Victorians also had homemade wrinkle-cream, freckle-remover, cold cream, and sun burn remedies.
This gives us a fairly good idea of what (mid-)Victorians were looking for in their cosmetics: a delicate complexion with a healthy 'bloom'; pleasant smells; and soft, full, shiny hair. I've found no period analogues to eye shadow, mascara, eye or lip liner, or lip stick.
One other thing they had, however, was a rather complicated relationship with these beauty-aids.
From The Lady's Guide to Perfect Gentility (1856):
"A fair skin and rosy cheek are calculated to excite admiration; but if it be discovered that they are entirely produced by paint, that admiration becomes disgust; or if owing to disease, it is changed to pity."
And:
"A good selection of cosmetics and kindred preparations is important for the completeness of a lady's toilette. As a general rule, to set off the complexion with all the advantage it can attain, nothing more is requisite than to wash the face with pure water; or if anything further be occasionally necessary, it is only the addition of a little nice soap. As to the use of paints, washes, &c, it is not for us to determine; but in giving the following receipts, we have endeavored to distinguish those which are most objectionable, on account of the deleterious articles which they contain. A knowledge of their manufacture will, therefore, prevent ill consequences, if it be productive of no other good. "
The Ladies' Guide to Beauty (1860):
“We
have already expressed our opinion respecting paints and
cosmetics. The latter cannot, of course, be objected to when
the name is only expressive of their quality; but very
many
compositions which have this alluring title, prove after a while
to be destroyers rather than beautifiers. … Paints, however, can be
of no benefit further than to produce a false appearance of beauty,
and to a certain extent they must be injurious ; if even no poisonous
ingredient be in their composition...”
The Philosophy of Common Life (1857) by John Scoffern including instructions "cosmetic paints" including red-hued "soaps", white-hued "powders" and anti-pimple preparations. The author explicitly notes that the best-looking white powders are based on poisonous lead or bismuth; they are included anyway, as "for stage purposes at least, these poisonous cosmetics cannot be dispensed with", but come with a warning to use minimal amounts and to remove the powder completely after use.
Rouge-wearers are warned that their paints "soil the handkerchief, thus not only marring the beauty the rouged skin, but what is far worse tell tales."
Similar recipes, and commentary, show up in the American Journal of Pharmacy (1856):
"The use of a white paint by actresses and dancers is absolutely necessary; great exertion produces a florid complexion, which is incompatible with certain scenic effects, and requires a cosmetic to subdue it."
Mrs. (Sarah Josepha) Hale, of Godey's Ladies' Book fame, writes in Mrs. Hale's Receipts for the Million (1857):
OF THE COMPLEXION
531. Never Paint--The use of white paint as a cosmetic affects the eyes, which it renders painful and watery. It changes the texture of the skin, on which it produces pimples; attacks the teeth, destroys the enamel, and loosens them. It heats the mouth and throat, infecting and corrupting the saliva. Lastly, it penetrates the pores of the skin, acting by degrees on the spongy substance of the lungs, and inducing disease. Powdered magnesia, or violet powder, is no further injurious than by stopping the pores of the skin; but this is quite injury enough to preclude its use. The best cosmetics are early hours, exercise, and temperance.
The Family Doctor (1858) defines 'Cosmetic':
An external application to the skin, applied for the purpose of removing spots and freckles and improving the complexion. It may be innoxious such as Elder flower, Rose or Hungary Water; but most of the cosmetics employed are of a deleterious nature and ultimately, if not immediately, prove injurious to the tissues of the skin, and by their absorption affect the general health.
The 1858 Lady's Companion includes the short story "Beauties Without Paint".
The Miss Worsdells laughed immensely at what they termed Anna Kent's preaching; but, nevertheless she firmly refused all offers of the beauty-bestowing blanc perle. "If I were as ruddy as a milkmaid", she observed, "as brown as a gipsy, I would not use such stuff. I thought, indeed, it might be a simple herbal preparation which made you so fair; but paint ! oh, fie, cousins ! is it not a reproach to a woman to use red and white on her face?"
"I beg your pardon, Anna", said Clara Worsdell, much offended, "we never paint our cheeks with rouge."
"And pray", her cousin asked, "what is the difference, or distinction, between white paint or red? I think I know, Clara, without your answer--the one is shameful, the other baneful."
Of course, twenty years later, Anna is happily married and still looks "fresh and youthful". One of her make-up-wearing cousins is married, but prematurely aged and in poor health; the other never married, and went blind. They both greatly regret having worn 'white powders' in their youth.
“The Best Cosmetic”, a parable in Arthur's Home Magazine (1865) also champions the idea that clean living and a sweet disposition are more beautifying than chemicals.
Meanwhile, humorous publications like Punch (1863) also attack the use of 'paints':
"As for paint attracting lovers, I am sure it only serves to frighten them away. Who with lips that are by nature capable of kissing would ever dream of paying his addresses to a girl with 'touch me not' quite plainly painted on her face? The misletoe will soon be an extinct institution if girls persist in trying to make themselves unkissable by colouring their cheeks."
And in non-fiction, the 1858 Autobiography of Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck relates an incident:
"There was one lady, the Duchess of D-- whom he had recently been called to attend, who was perishing, he said, under the effect of the white enamel paint which some ladies were then very fond of applying. The doctor at once perceived the cause of her malady, but he knew it would be tender ground to touch upon, since her use of this cosmetic was kept a profound secret, even from her family..."
The Proceedings of the First Annual Meeting of the Homeopathic Medical Society of Ohio (1865) include a report from one Mrs. Dr. Chase on "Toilet Articles and Toxicology".
"The occasional use of powders for the skin, and artificial coloring, is common, and such being the case, however much we may disapprove of it, persons should know something about the materials from which these are prepared, and be placed on their guard against dangerous combinations."
Hair dyes seem to meet with less disapprobation than face-paint. From How to Arrange the Hair (1857):
"As to Hair-dyes, their name is legion, and every coiffeur has his own favourite preparation. … Care should be taken to suit the dye to the complexion and age..."
The author goes on to relate in anecdote in which a child gets into her mother's hair dye, causing embarrassment before their guests.
"As to Hair-dyes, their name is legion, and every coiffeur has his own favourite preparation. … Care should be taken to suit the dye to the complexion and age..."
The author goes on to relate in anecdote in which a child gets into her mother's hair dye, causing embarrassment before their guests.
Scents, on the other hand, appear quite respectable. The fact that they are obvious (no one 'naturally' smells like roses, after all) may have something to do with it.
“In the United States, the use of perfumery is general.”
- Perfumery, It's Manufacture and Use (1853)
In this context, "perfumery" includes not only scents, but also pomades, oils, and select other cosmetic preparations. Whole books of instructions are written on it, like The Art of Perfumery (1857), and mainstream publications also include recipes: Godey's prints multiple recipes for “odors for the
handkerchief” in 1858, and The Whatnot or Ladies' Handy-book (1859) contains “toilet receipts” including hair dye, curling fluid, lip
salve, cologne, dentrifice, and “a cure for warts”
When choosing whether to use cosmetics in reenacting, keep in mind your persona, the beauty ideals of the time you are portraying, and the available technology to meet those ideals (by all means, stay away from the poisonous ones!). A full face of 21st century make-up, after all, looks like 21st century make-up. A little rice powder for the would-be coquette, a dash of florida water on the handkerchief, or even some rouge on the cheek of a more daring woman, could all be interesting and "appropriate" additions to one's presentation.
--Lola Montez, "Beautiful Women" (Lecture, 1858)
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