Monday, June 1, 2015

Concerning Hoopskirts

This 1858 illustrator has apparently confused
the crinoline with the lightning rod.

"The circles were all changed to polygons, and at every angle was a neat splice of white cord, or a bandage galloon, or a delicate suture of linen thread, and in one place where the break was particularly bad--a regular compound fracture as the doctors would say--and the steel protruded through the skin, the dear little woman had put it into splints of whalebone, and wound it round and round with bonnet-wire! I felt the tears come into my eyes as I looked at Mrs. Lambswool's hoops. 

When did she get that set? I counted on my fingers, and calculated that it must have been at least six months ago. It was the regular old-fashioned Champagne-glass figure and I reflected that had Mrs. Lambswool married somebody besides a poor book-keeper she would have had at least two new sets since that was bought."

--"My Velvet Shoes" in Harper's New Monthly Magazine (1860), hat tip to Jessamyn

Fiction though it may be, this internal monologue by a cash-strapped husband gives some useful insight into hoops in the year 1860.  We see how a set may be repaired and made to last by an economically-minded woman; we learn that shapes were changing rapidly enough for six-month-old hoops to be "old-fashioned" (it is later revealed that Mrs. Lambswool turned down a stylish friend's invitation because she was ashamed of her outmoded hoops); we learn that replacing hoops every two months or so is normal for someone who is not struggling financially; we later learn that purchasing hoops is embarrassing for a man, and that many different brands of hoops are available.  The new set bought to replace the above has 30-springs and cost $3 (for a top brand); in comparison, $5 was expected to buy a quality pair of men's boots, $0.50-$1 gets a cheap pair of shoes, and $0.50 is paid for a good clothes basket with a lid.

1858 Hoop skirt illustration from Peterson's Magazine
Hoop in Peterson's, 1858
This story indicated that even people in financially precarious situations made a point of wearing hoops.  Other sources confirm that hoops were ubiquitous, rich and poor:

"Hoop skirts--Have become, if possible, still a more confirmed and indispensable article of dress..." - Hesperian (1861)

"Five years ago when hooped skirts were first introduced, every one predicted for them a speedy decline, and fall; but after encountering the shafts of ridicule and opposition in every conceivable form, they still not only remain a fixed fact, but have become a permanent institution, which no caprice of fashion will be like to wholly destroy." -Peterson's, November 1861 (page 384).  Current prices at that time for "Demorest's Prize Medal Hoop Skirts" range from $0.50 for a 12 spring skirt to $2.00 for a 40 spring one.  Children's sizes are also available, from $0.19 to $1.00.  The skirts are noted for their quality construction and cheap cost.

As early as March 1857, Frank Leslie's New York Journal ran instructions for a "hoop petticoat": make a 2.5 yard (90" circumference) petticoat with six tucks, and then insert cane, steel, or whalebone into each.  The author finds these petticoats to be more durable than crinoline (the original "crinoline" being a petticoat made of the stiff linen/horsehair material called by that name), as well as cheap and easy to make at home.

A writer for The Saturday Review (1862) had hoped that fashionable women would abandon hoops once their servants started wearing them.  He is disappointed that this is not the case.

Servants' crinolines ridiculed in Punch, November 21, 1863

In occupied New Orleans, Miss Clara Solomon writes on Sunday, June 22nd, 1862:  “A. is by me grumbling as she is “devoting her whole energy to her hoop”; but these indispensable articles have become much reduced in price, as there had been an influx from Yankee Land, & it is useless to say you will not purchase Yankee importations when the majority of individuals do.”"

A defense of hoops in Ballou's Dollar Monthly (1863) appeals to both the convenience of wearing hoops and to the public stigma of appearing without them.  It includes this advice to complaining husbands:
"Now let me advise thee don that coatapet minus the wires, also thy wife's wrapper, just to see how nice thee will feel with thy feet hampered and muffled in the tangling skirts of heavy gowns. I think, too, thee might take a stroll on the shore, where the winds can have a fling at the cumbersome drapery. I trust thee will by that time be quite cured of anti-hoopopathy, and perfectly ready to enthrone Queen Crinoline." (The statement was attributed to a quaker woman, thus the 'thee's.)

Many different designs in hoop skirts were available in the 1850s-60s, and they were constantly changing; in 1858 alone, 16 different patents were issued in the US for hoop skirts, skeleton skirts, improved fasteners, buckles, etc.

While most (I daresay all) of us won't be acquiring dozens of hoops with minute styling differences for each of the years 1861-1865, an over-view of the popular shape will help train the eye.  To a small degree, changes in the fashionable form can be imitated by adding a bustle-pad ('tournure' or 'dress improver') to change the back-fullness and adopting petticoats and skirts of varying fullness and set.
"'The Crystal' hoop-skirt from Sherwood & Douglas; made of boiled bone,
this skirt has an 'adjustable tournour' and is superior to last season's 'skeleton hoops'."
July, 1856, Mrs. Stephens' Illustrated Magazine.
The dome-shaped "Princess Royal" Skirt, 
Frank Leslie's, 1858.
Covered Cage Crinoline, 1858, from VAM
Godey's, 1859; This arrangment promises more convenient wearing than the
"skeleton skirt", with removable steels for easy laundering
Crinoline Ad in La Follet, 1863, the round "dome" has become more conical
The "Patent Ondina or Waved Jupon" skirts in this 1864 advertisement
show the development of a more elliptical-shaped hoop. 
1865 Crinoline from Der Bazar: narrow upper, flat front, and long back
Egg-shaped foot-print of the 1865 crinoline
Although no picture is included, there's a very optimistic description of an 'inflatable' hoop found in Godey's in 1856:
I can think of a few things more charming, and would expect to see this write-up in Punch rather than Godey's!

[Edited to add: Punch did oblige with a cartoon on this topic, January 17, 1857:]

A final note on nomenclature: how did they name their skirt-supports?  Searching through Google Books, 1855-1865, "crinoline" is one of the most commonly used general terms, with "hoop" and "cage" being used casually (by fans and detractors alike). "Skeleton skirt" shows up in patent and advertising materials, as does "expansion skirt"; both get rather less usage in fiction, perhaps due to their specificity.  "Hoop-skirt" and "hoop petticoat" are also period terms. "Covered crinoline" is used rarely, and only late in the war.  The french "jupon" also is used in some publications.

I've found no period uses of the terms "cage crinoline" and "covered cage" in reference to skirt-supports.

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