Thursday, October 27, 2011

Face Decoration for Ladies~


From Harper's Magazine, 1856


read the last four paragraphs, if nothing else...  :)

"We do not know how we can interest our ladyreaders more(though it take up a large share of our gossip) than by adding here a somewhat lengthy resume of the writings of a Paris Jeuilletoniste upon the subject of  "face decoration for ladies"."

"We hazard the risk of seeing our daughters bedizened in new styles by this very plain elucidation of the arts of coquetry in color:



"The "face-menders" or repiqueses (as he calls them), are divided into two large classes or schools; the fanciful and the sensible, rationalists and idealists."

"The idealist is she who considers it slow and humdrum to have a face like her mother, or her grandmother's, or any other of her predecessors; nature's productions are commonplace and mawkish, pappy and finnikin; her style is broad and telling; she aims at color and effect."

"The rationalist has a less lofty flight of imagination. She strives after the true and natural."

"In youth her style is correct and simple; she copies from acknowledged models, or from her own portrait, if it be tolerably like and flattering. In advanced years she is content to patch up and retouch where any part has faded—to fill up cracks, and restore the glazing where it has disappeared. Hers is simply a work of restoration. To give an example—the classical face-painter is generally fond of rubbing in softly a light blue tinge under the eyes; the effect is to give an air of languor, as though ardent and impassioned thoughts had left their unmistakable traces on the visage of the too sensative creature."

"The idealist, on the other hand, boldly spreads beneath her eyes a broad flat tint, hard and dark, charcoally, and altogether improbable. The effect is to give that sort of expression which can only be described as peculiar. Again, tho follower of the rational school gives herself arched, slender, brilliant eyebrows, care being taken to place them at a good height from the lids—eyebrows a Vlmperatrice they are called under the present dynasty."

"The idealist makes hers of a dull color—thick, and turned up with a peremptory twist like the mustache of a Zouave. The object thus secured is a wild, startling, ruffianly grace, that demands your admiration as a footpad does your purse. To the idealist is due the black line which is sometimes seen immediately under the eyelash, on the very edge of the lid, which is to give additional lustre to the glance; and likewise the prolongation of the said black line beyond the corner of the eye, supposed to increase the apparent size of the orbit."

"To sum up—while the rationalist strives at a servile imitation of nature, constituting a sort of Dutch school characterized by simplicity and native grace, the idealist, less 'of the earth, earthy,' rushes into the unexpected and startling; the original local tint, for which she hath small regard, may sometimes be taken by her as a sort of starting-point; but it is the first step in a scale of coloring which mounts up into the maddest play of tints, and exceeds the wildest dreams even of the modern romantic ballad writer."

"The thoroughgoing idealist does not, as may be imagined, rise to the fullness of her poetic frenzy at one flight. Her first essays are more timid and tentative, but gradually, as one bold effect is ventured upon, then another—like the tiger that has lapped blood—she is lashed to a furious thirst, and finally becomes desperate, swaying fearfully on the thin boundary that divides insanity from genius."

"The origin of the moderate or rationalist school is beyond the memory of man. From all time women have used cosmeties; the angel Azaliel first taught them to paint their faces. But the rise of the school of idealists is of more recent date; it is, in fact, entirely modern, although many of its practices have been separately in use among various nations from an early period; for instance, among the American Indians, who paint their cheeks and forehead blue; the Grcenlanders, who streak their faces with white and yellow; the women of the Ueccan, who cut out flowers upon their own skins, and paint them various tints, etc., etc. From each of these the idealist borrows a little—a hint here, a notion there—but the complete system, as a whole, is entirely modern, and of the present day. Another characteristic difference between the two sects, and one which is extremely significative as respects the basis on which each proceeds, is this: the rationalist, when she has oecasion to purchase the materials with which she manufactures her deceptive charms, drives stealthily in a hack carriage under cover of dusk to the shop of the fashionable dealer in the raw material of beauty, vailed and muffled up in sombre garments, as though she were stealing to some guilty rendezvous. Not so the follower of the fantastic and ideal school—boldly and openly her equipage in the full glare of day draws up before the door as though she were about to buy dresses at a linendraper's. In point of fact, the one practices the art as a piece of hypocrisy and a fraud, and the other as a part and parcel of her personal adornments—the necessary complement of her toilet. This latter was exactly the view in which rouge came to be held in the olden time—in the age of hoops, high-heeled shoes, and patches. It formed part of the complete toilet of a lady of fashion—it was one of the items of full dress—to bo without it was to bo en neglige. Unmarried girls were forbidden its use—to wear rouge and diamonds was among the privileges acquired by marriage."


"Pass we now to the practical part of our author's treatise, the arcana of recipes and processes, the chemistry of artificial charms. The fundamental colors, red, black, and white, arc of ancient nsage; they were what is called pearl-white, rouge or carmine, and tale, and lamp or smoke black. Bnt these substances have been found to present many objectionable peculiarities—the pearl-white cracks and foliates, giving the face a surface like veined marble; the rouge, whatever price may be given for it—and as much as five pounds for a little pot is sometimes paid—is not a fast color, runs, and forms a coating of visible thickness; moreover, it has the disadvantage of coloring not only the cheek but the down upon it, so that by a glancing light a scrutinizing eye detects the blushing artifice; afor lampblack, it lacks consistency, and smudges too easily. In place of carmine, what was called vinaigre de rouge was invented—a liquid which dyes the epidermis, so that, when it has been laid on, a wet rag lightly passed over the down washes all color away from it without affecting that on the cheek. This, however, is now classed among the coarser and more ancient processes; and Though, together with them, it is still used by a large number, the more refined compilers of complexions adopt the following methods: Those who are merely too pale, and have no other fault to find with themselves than that they have a dull, lustreless look—those lucky enough, in short, to require only a touch of rouge, have an easy and short task of it. They have recourse neither to the rouge paste nor the rouge vinegar, but to the most enchanting tint of delicate rose—so conceivable a tint rarely equaled by Nature's purest and freshest hues, and which is derived from a composition called rose de Chine. It is a curious kind of preparation, laid upon paper, and forming a kind of pocket-book. The surface of the paper has a shiny emerald-green and gold tinge. You moisten the tip of your finger, rub it, and a rose-red color comes oft" upon the finger, the which is immediately applied to the cheek, which it lights up with a pretty delicate rosy hue, strongly recommendable to the less robust. This process is far preferable to laying slices of raw veal on either cheek, as is known to be nightly practiced by interesting females fluctuating about maturity."

"As regards white, its use is not so simple. as it necessitates a preparatory process, analogous to that which painters called priming. The best white being in powder, the skin has to be preparefor its reception by a previous application of an unctuous and retentive character; this is generally cold cream, with which the visage is lightly anointed. The white is then laid on with the end of the linger, as with a stump. The whole soon dries, and forms a compact surface, on which the rouge may then be applied. Great care is requisite to lay on the proper amount and thickness of white at once; any patching or retouching would produce a blotchy and unequal appearance the only alternative is to begin again. Let it be observed that there aro three orders of white, viz., pink white for the fair; yellow white for the dark, called Rachel's white, its invention being attributed to the great tragedian; and, lastly, white white, or ninny's white, for those who are weakminded enough to beflour their faces in emulation of the clown in a pantomime. Formerly, what was called an ajl depoudre (a dash of powder) was an indispensable process as the finishing touch to the toilet. It consisted in one slight sprinkling from the powder-puff on the hair, and a similar light shower of pearl-white on the shoulders. Under this light and discreet vail disappeared any little accidental imperfections or blurs marring the uniform snowiness of the skin; it was a mask, too, concealing the alterations that might supervene from heat, cold, or unfashionable emotion. Nowadays this imperceptible hoar-frost is considered too evanescent and unstable; a more vigorous and permanent effect is desired, and arras, shoulders, neck, and bust are washed over with a preparation called liquid white. This process calls to mind that by which the spotless white of pantaloon and cross-belt is obtained by soldiers—a species of pipeclaying it is, undoubtedly. There is a dark side, moreover, to this liquid-white which by no means can we omit to mention: its basis is metallic silver, or bismuth; these act as poisons, which corrode, discolor, and wrinkle up the skin; and, moreover, affect, by absorption, the constitution itself. Nor is this all: those whose skins are plastered with it must beware of all sulphurous emanations: a ride on a Thames steamer—a visit to Harrogate or Barege—would simply tum them black—convert them into Hottentot Venuses. We have now to mention the treatment of lips and eyebrows. for the lips and the nails rougo vinegar is the only thing that can be used, though no doubt injurious, especially to the former. As to the eyebrows, the subject is one on which much prose might be written as a counterbalance to the sonnets indited by lovers to those of their mistresses. Charcoal and burned cork, though used by not a few, should decidedly be left to the domain of theatrical 'making up.' The recipe in vogue among the most knowing is derived from an antiquarian discovery. In certain ancient sarcophagi have been found little boxes containing a black matter evidently destined for this purpose, together with the little wooden instrument which was used in applying it. The pigment is composed of two parts of lead and one of plumbago uupurified of the small quantity of iron found in it when native. The little instrument, which is either of wood or ivory, is about an inch long, and cut to a point like a pencil. The point is dipped into the preparation, which is laid on, not at one stroke, but in an infinity of little lines laid close to each other like veritable hairs. The general shape of the whole eyebrow varies according to the fashion of the month. The effect is perfect, and there is only one objection to the process—the very long time it takes up. When we have adverted to the penciling of veins, to give an air of transparency to the marble surface of the skin, which is simply done with a camel-hair brush and a little blue paint, as we trace the branchings of rivers on a map, and, secondly, to the fabrication of artificial moles or beauty-spots, a substitute for the patches of the older time, produced on the same principle as the eyebrow above, we shall have completed our review of the art and mystery of face-painting as shown forth by the daring hand of the French writer—for daring he must be, whether he be a libcler or a true man."

"And now, will it not bo said that, in common with some moralists against whom it has been urged that, while painting vice to make it hideous or ridiculous, they have initiated the ignorant and corrupted the innocent—will it not be said that we, too, in affecting to give a warning, are furnishing hints? Certainly it would not be an easy task to refute such a charge." 
"There is a natural perverseness in the human heart from which the fair are by no means exempt; and whence it results that to lay down a law is to suggest a transgression. All have heard the famous instance of this inverse effect produced by an admonition in the days of patches and Court preachers in France, when Massillon, in a burst of indignation against the "low dresses" of that day, ironically suggested that the Court beauties should still further draw attention to their unveiled charms, and attract the eye by a patch. On the morrow, at the Regent's ball, the hint was adopted; all the ladies appeared with the suggested improvement, and, to give every one their due, the patch in its new place was called a Mossillonne. But, if we are forced to admit that we may have retailed poison, we have done so in strict accordance with Lord Campbell's Act—our arsenic is accompanied with a detective admixture. For, as wo trust the present article will find as many male readers as female, full as many pairs of watchful and wary eyes will be enlisted in the preventive service, as weak minds may have been seduced to smugglo contraband charms. But, as an additional safeguard, we will conclude by summing up in our author's own words or thereabouts the pains and penalties to which those are exposed who have been tempted to launch into the absurd artifices of which a sketch has been given."

"Once the beauty is invested in her borrowed charms, farewell to all the graces of varied expression, ever changing with the movements of the soul—graces more precious than beauty itself. Beneath its crust of paint the face is fixed immovable, as though the head of Gorgon had stared upon it. If it have a smile, it must remain forever a rigid grin, like that on the plaster cast of a hanged criminal—at the utmost a convulsive twitch may be permitted to the extent of a twentieth part of an inch. Joy, anger, the passions generally— in all their shades, in all their gradations—are banished forever from their natural appanage. They may rumble and agitate internally—not a trace can they be allowed to exhibit on the "dial of the soul." A moment's forgetfulness has been known to cause a woeful wreck—instant dilapidation, as from an earthquake. Huge fissures athwart the features, or myriad crackings and exfoliations, shedding from time to time their scales. In polking or waltzing, shoulders, forehead, must be carefully withheld from all contact with the partner's coat. When resting the hand on his shoulder the arm must be painfully kept aloof from the partner's sleeve. A severe gymnastic exercise polking or waltzing under such restrictions!"

"Equally forbidden is any prolonged indulgence in the pleasures of the ball: the heat induced is fatal when it has reached a certain point. Neglect of this precaution has caused frightful disasters. After the thirteenth polka faces have been seen to present a variegated appearance—pink and red on one side, yellow and brown on the other."

"Tears labor under the same interdiction, the penalty being streaks down the face as down a glazed gingham after the first shower; likewise the mechanical allaying of any sudden irritation of the skin called scratching, this interdiction implies sufferings unfelt by Tantalus."

"We might swell the list at pleasure: sufficient, we trust, has been said, however, to deter the most intrepid from joining either sect of repiqueses,or in any the remotest degree sacrificing to Venus in plaster of Paris."

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