In The Works- Tea Gowns, Part 1

William Blake Richmond, Mrs Luke Ionides, 1882; V&A Museum (E.1062:1, 2-2003)

In recent posts, we’ve been going on about tea gowns and aesthetic dress and you’re probably beginning to wonder what it’s all about. Tea gowns have always been a big favorite with us and we’ve always wanted to explore this area more and we now that we have some free time, we’re going to act on it! 🙂 We’re looking to take the basic tea gown design and add a flair of Aesthetic style to it- more to follow on that! In the meantime, here’s some of the gowns that are inspiring us:

Worth, Tea Gown, c. 1895-1900; Modemuseum, Hasselt (2013.0075)

The fabric on the above gown is very striking and appears to be a gold-colored silk print floral pattern with a blue/lavender background and trimmed with lace. The silhouette is fairly typical of a house dress style although it’s evident that this was meant more for receiving guests at home than any practical work around the house. Interestingly enough, it appears that the bodice and skirt are separate pieces rather than the usual princess line style typical of this design. While this gown contains many Aesthetic Dress design elements, it’s still more of a mainstream style. Still, we love the fabric and clean lines (although we would be employing a one-piece princess-line style).

Tea/House Dress, c. 1905-1907; The State Hermitage Museum (ЭРТ-9473)

The above gown definitely reads Edwardian, lacking the defined curves characteristic of 1880s and 1890s tea gowns and as such, is seemingly a loose draped robe (although there is no doubt that a corset was worn underneath). What is most striking to us about this garment is the incorporation of Neo-Classical and Renaissance design elements with its straight lines and geometrical trim arrangement. In much the same vein, the tea gown below also captures many Aesthetic Dress features although it’s more structured:

Unfortunately, we’ve been unable to track down any specific information on this tea gown (the downside to Pinterest) but we believe that this either a late 1880s or early 1890s style. As with many examples of this style, the gown is designed to give the effect of an outer robe being worn over an full-length under-dress (in reality, these were actually a single garment with elements artfully arranged to give the appearance of there being two pieces).  Below is a more extreme example of the open robe effect with this circa 1888 example:

Tea Gown, c. 1888; Antiquedress.com

Finally, just to bring it home, there’s this example from circa 1890:

Tea Gown, c. 1890; Metropolitan Museum of Art (C.I.44.122)

Is it a tea gown? House dress? Something in between? Given the styling, we guess something that would have been worn to receive guests at home (and definitely not for going out). With this style, there’s not really any specific “Aesthetic Dress” style going on except to note that the basic silhouette is very similar with an emphasis on seeming ease of movement.

And of course, period artwork also inspires as with these two paintings by August Toulmouche:

August Toulmouche, Dolce Far niente, 1877, Private Collection

August Toulmouche, An Afternoon Idyll, 1874

So what’s going to be our specific design? Wait and see… 😉



Aesthetic Dress & Reaction

As it was noted in yesterday’s post, the Aesthetic Movement, and more specifically Aesthetic Dress, arose in response to the predominant fashions of the Victorian Era and as such, sought to replace challenged convention in advocating for less structured and confining fashions. In all fashion movements, there’s always friction between competing trends and styles and advent of Aesthetic Dress was no exception; this friction is subtly captured in this 1881 painting by William Powell Frith:

William Powell Frith, A Private View at the Royal Academy, 1881

This painting is a who’s who of British society and many notable people are depicted:

The annotated version…

For our purposes, what’s notable are the two groups of people in the front wearing aesthetic dress. Oscar Wilde is included with the right aesthetic dress group, speaking about the artwork. Also, behind the right group is a group of men reacting negatively to Oscar and his group. The painting was meant to be a caricature in that Frith had little regard for aesthetic dress nor Oscar Wilde, one of the aesthetic movement’s most vocal advocates. Frith explains in My Autobiography and Reminiscences, Vol. 2 (pp. 256-27):

Seven years ago certain ladies delighted to display themselves at public gatherings in what are called aesthetic dresses; in some cases the costumes were pretty enough, in others they seemed to rival each other in ugliness of form and oddity of colour. There were — and still are, I believe — preachers of aestheticism in dress; but I think, and hope, that the preaching is much less effective than it used to be. The contrast between the really beautiful costumes of some of the lady habituées of our private view, and the eccentric garments of others, together with the opportunity offered for portraits of eminent persons, suggested a subject for a picture, and I hastened to avail myself of it. Beyond the desire of recording for posterity the aesthetic craze as regards dress, I wished to hit the folly of listening to self-elected critics in matters of taste, whether in dress or art. I therefore planned a group, consisting of a well known apostle of the beautiful, with a herd of eager worshippers surrounding him. He is supposed to be explaining his theories to willing ears, taking some picture on the Academy walls for his text. A group of well-known artists are watching the scene.

The motivation for making this painting could simply be attributed to his simple dislike of Oscar Wilde (often referred to as “the apostle of the beautiful”) but it also reveals a reaction towards aesthetic dress and the aesthetic movement whose ideas ran counter to the structured realist painting style that was predominant in Victorian Britain.  It certainly strikes us as modern readers as seemingly much ado about nothing- aesthetic dress was pretty innocuous and with its emphasis on unstructured movement, it did offer an alternative for women.

Sometimes it seems that there was some overlap between aesthetic dress and existing house dress and wrapper styles.1Wrappers were a fashion items dating back to at least the 1840s, if not much earlier. Here’s one very simple example from circa 1881 that belonged to a one Annie Cronk, the daughter of a farmer and the wife of a railroad station agent, raised a family in rural Oregon, Wisconsin2Wisconsin Historical Society website:

A few observations are in order- essentially this could be considered to be a house dress, that is a dress intended for wear around the house and not for going out in public (whether those norms were always observed is an interesting question in itself). This dress is primarily constructed from a red wool with a velvet collar; overall the dress has very little adornment, as what would be expected. Below is a picture of the dresse’s understructure:

House Dress, c. 1881; Wisconsin Historical Society (1952.128)

Here we see a structured underlayment that’s shaped and darted (and may even be boned); it’s not structured enough to act as a corset in its own right but there’s no doubt that the person wearing this garment would have had some sort of corset on underneath. Ultimately, while these styles pointed towards greater freedom of movement, there were limits. Also, it could be argued that this was simply a house dress chosen by Mrs. Cronk for utilitarian reasons and that the “aesthetic dress” considerations played no role in its creation but the silhouettes between all these garments are fairly similar and that except for differences in materials and degrees of decoration with lace and other trims. So, given that the basic silhouette of aesthetic dress and already existing house dress/wrappers were fairly similar, why the reaction? Our own theory is that it was more about these styles being worn in public than anything else but that’s just speculation on our part.

Ultimately, what we found compelling here is that we see a trend and a reaction before us in an explicit way and it’s interesting to watch the conflict develop. As a fashion trend, aesthetic dress didn’t last long; fundamental changes in women’s wear was another 20 years or so off with visionaries such as Paul Poiret. However, it’s a good illustration of how fashion trends and their reactions are often rooted in cultural conflicts.



Aesthetic Dress & Tea Gowns- When Design & Function Come Together

Aesthetic, or Artistic, dress was an outgrowth of the Aesthetic Movement and as such, was a fashion trend that arose out of reaction to the heavily structured and trim heavily trimmed fashions of the late Nineteenth Century. In contrast, the Aesthetic Dress movement focused on basing fashion on simplicity of design and quality materials.

Aesthetic Dress drew many of its ideas from the Reform/Rational Dress Movement and at their core, both movements sought to create more simple utilitarian garments that would give women freedom of movement, free from the restrictions of tight-lacing corsetry and elaborate undergarments such as bustles and the like.

William Blake Richmond, Mrs Luke Ionides, 1882; V&A Museum (E.1062:1, 2-2003)

Many Aesthetic Dress styles drew inspiration from the loosely flowing robes characteristic of the late Middle Ages and were based off of the artwork of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an artistic movement that sought a return to the artistic styles of the abundant detail, intense colors and complex compositions of Quattrocento Italian art . It was almost natural that the influence of the Aesthetic Dress Movement would be reflected in tea gowns such as this example from circa 1897 made by Liberty London:

Liberty of London, Tea Gown c. 1897; Kerry Taylor Auctions

The  tea  gown  consists  of  two parts, a peach/light orange silk  outer dress  trimmed in peach/red-orange colored silk with floral pattern embroidery running along the front edges and back collar. On the front, the outer dress mimics an open robe with an inner dress made of an ivory colored linen or cotton material. The outer dress is sleeveless, the inner dress providing the sleeves. Overall, this dress reads late Medieval/early Renaissance and definitely succeeds in capturing that aesthetic.     

In this view, one can see a Watteau style back running down the length of the dress. Below is an earlier example from circa 1883 example from Liberty. During the late Nineteenth Century, Liberty London positioned itself as the leading supplier of Aesthetic style garments and there are a a number of extant garments from the era. Stay tuned for future postings on this interesting sub-fashion genre of the late Nineteenth Century.



The Aesthetic Movement & Reaction

The Aesthetic Movement, and more specifically Aesthetic Dress, arose in response to the predominant fashions of the Victorian Era and as such, sought to replace challenged convention in advocating for less structured and confining fashions. Of course, as with all fashion movements, there’s always friction between competing trends and styles and this is captured somewhat subtly in this 1881 painting by William Powell Frith:

William Powell Frith, A Private View at the Royal Academy, 1881

This painting is a somewhat of a who’s who of British society and many notable people are depicted:

The annotated version…

For our purposes, what’s notable are the two groups of people in the front wearing aesthetic dress. Oscar Wilde is included with the right aesthetic dress group, speaking about the artwork. Also, behind the right group is a group of men reacting negatively to Oscar and his group. The painting was meant to be a caricature in that Frith had little regard for aesthetic dress nor Oskar Wilde, one of the aesthetic movement’s most vocal advocates. Frith explains in My Autobiography and Reminiscences, Vol. 2 (pp. 256-27):

Seven years ago certain ladies delighted to display themselves at public gatherings in what are called aesthetic dresses; in some cases the costumes were pretty enough, in others they seemed to rival each other in ugliness of form and oddity of colour. There were — and still are, I believe — preachers of aestheticism in dress; but I think, and hope, that the preaching is much less effective than it used to be. The contrast between the really beautiful costumes of some of the lady habituées of our private view, and the eccentric garments of others, together with the opportunity offered for portraits of eminent persons, suggested a subject for a picture, and I hastened to avail myself of it. Beyond the desire of recording for posterity the aesthetic craze as regards dress, I wished to hit the folly of listening to self-elected critics in matters of taste, whether in dress or art. I therefore planned a group, consisting of a well known apostle of the beautiful, with a herd of eager worshippers surrounding him. He is supposed to be explaining his theories to willing ears, taking some picture on the Academy walls for his text. A group of well-known artists are watching the scene.

The motivation for making this painting could simply be attributed to his simple dislike of Oscar Wilde (often referred to as “the apostle of the beautiful”) but it also reveals a reaction towards aesthetic dress and the aesthetic movement whose ideas ran counter to the structured realist painting style that was predominant in Victorian Britain.  It certainly strikes us as modern readers as seemingly much ado about nothing- aesthetic dress was pretty innocuous and with it’s emphasis on unstructured movement, it did offer an alternative for women.

Liberty & Co., Day Dress, c. 1890s; Metropolitan Museum of Art (1986.115.2)

Ultimately, what we found compelling here is that we see a trend and a reaction before us in an explicit way and it’s interesting to watch the conflict develop. As a fashion trend, aesthetic dress didn’t last long; fundamental changes in women’s wear was another 20 years or so off with visionaries such as Paul Poiret. However, it’s a good illustration of how fashion trends and their reactions are often rooted in cultural conflicts. We hope to explore these ideas some more in future posts.



Fashion Transition- 1890, Part 1

Mary Endicott (neé Chamberlain) by John Everett Millais, 1890 – 1891; Birmingham Museums (1989P60)

The 1890s opened with styles that were little different the year before but at the same time there was change, especially with a de-emphasis on the bustle/train. Yes, it’s still there a little but it’s less prominent and the look is softening up. To better illustrate this, below are a series of fashion plates from Peterson’s Magazine that cover the January through April, 1890:

Peterson’s Magazine, January 1890

Peterson’s Magazine, February 1890

Peterson’s Magazine, March 1890

Peterson’s Magazine, April 1890

In the above plates, we see a mix of styles with a varying degree of emphasis on the train/bustle. Also, we’re seeing a lot of the Directoire/redingote and jacket-bodice/faux vest styles in varying degrees; the jacket-bodice style was to further develop in the 1890s and especially with walking suits. At the same time, we see a series of pseudo-robe styles that seek to suggest somewhat loosely fitting robes, somewhat suggestive of aesthetic dress although they’re still fairly structured.

So, let’s take a look at each of these developing styles, staring with the Directoire and redingote styles.

The key elements of the Directoire style, as applied to the late Nineteenth Century, were jackets with wide lapels combined with simple, mostly un-trained skirts. Also, the Directoire style was often closely aligned with the redingote style and both were often combined as seen with this example:

One of the most eye-catching features of Directoire style were the lapels/revers. Here’s a few more interesting examples that we’ve recently come across:

In the above example from the October 1892 issue of La Revue de la Mode, we see a set of very wide, pointed lapels on a jacket with a diagonally cut front that calls away to reveal a white waist or pseudo-waist. The striped skirt offers an interesting contrast and the whole effect is a geometrical collection of straight lines going in a variety of directions. Along the same lines is this style on the left illustrated in an 1892 fashion plate from La Mode Française:

In terms of style, with its long revers and overall length, this one leans more towards a Louis XVI style but still overlaps somewhat in that the jacket is clearly mean to be worn open, displaying an ornately trimmed waistcoat (or pseudo waistcoat), complemented by the embroidered trim on both revers. Elaborate decorative designs were a characteristic of Directoire style, especially with the larger lapels that provided the perfect “canvas” as with this illustration from the March 1899 issue of The Delineator:

Both of these outfits are amazing and a bit over-the-top. The left dress features an elegant coat with elaborate decorative patterns that were no doubt, done in silver and jet beading (or some combination thereof). Although the fabric is not specified here, we envision a black silk velvet . The pale blue skirt offers an interesting color contrast with its white floral applique pattern running along the hem. The perfect outfit for Spring. The outfit on the right is a bit more dramatic with its burnt orange jacket combined with a green skirt with a vertical soutache pattern running down the front. The contrast colors make for a harmonious package that sets the stage for the dramatic striped patterns on the lapels and collar; these definitely catch the eye and direct focus towards the wearer’s face.

Like the Directoire style, the redingote had its origins in the early 19th Century and so it only makes sense to also see its revival, albeit in a more limited form. Essentially, there were two basic redingote styles during the late 1880s/early 1890s: the functional coat meant to be worn as outerwear and the redingote as part of a complete dress style. In this post, we’re going to focus on the redingote as a dress style. For a little history, the redingote’s origins go back to the 18th Century and the term itself is a French corruption of “riding coat.” Initially, the redingote was a closely fitted coat with a flared skirt and was intended to be worn while horseback riding. Over time, the redingote evolved to something more formal that was worn for a number of social occasions. The redingote was inspired by men’s styles and as such they were typically made by a tailor as opposed to a mantua-maker. For a little historical context, here are some illustrations:

Redingote, c. 1790; Los Angeles County Museum of Art (M.2009.120)

Some insight into the revival of the redingote can be found in this description from the January 12, 1889 issue of Harper’s Bazar:

The garment most worn this winter, which hitherto has been as mild as that of Nice, is the redingote; and if severe weather should suddenly set in and oblige us to take refuge in furs, suspending the usefulness of the redingote, it will resume its ascendancy again next March. Made as it is now, it closely resembles a man’s coat. The revers are cut and rolled in the same fashion, the sleeves are similar, and the bodice of the street dress over which it is worn, usually of cloth, or Cheviot [a variety of wool fabric], or sometimes faille, bears the same relation to it as the masculine waistcoat to the coat.

The redingote, which is almost as long as the dress, is worn with different dresses, but if it is slashed in the back the breadths of the dress are usually of the same color, only the bodice front and skirt being different, as for instance, a black redingote over a dress which has back breadths of black faille. The great and unfortunate popularity which it has attained is entirely owing to our unusually mild temperature. All the fur-lined long cloaks and small wraps are as yet unemployed although doubtless their turn will come.

Beside the redingote cloak there are many pretty redingotes which form part of the dress, of brocade, or of Pompadour silks; these have revers turned back on the front, sometimes meeting at the waist with the open space above filled in by a lace plastron; below the waist, it spreads apart again, displaying a skirt of glacé silk, with embroidery or passementerie, or of a crêpe de Chine embroidered.

Simpler but not less pretty is a redingote  of plain or changeable silk opening on a plastron and skirt front of ancient silk— some old silk of the eighteenth century, which may possibly have been employed for furniture drapery in the interim, and is now restored to its original use. There is a perfect rage for old-time silks at this moment, and when one does not possess a sufficient quantity to make an entire skirt front, still there must be enough at least to furnish a gathered plastron and a collar and cuffs for a dress restored to its original use.

The above quote differentiates two styles of redingotes: one that was a full-on coat; and one that was part of a dress style. The coat style is fairly simple and functional as noted in the December 1891 issue of Demorest’s Family Magazine:

Probably there is no garment more convenient and comfortable for cold weather than a redingote: it is thoroughly protective, the arms are free, and it constitutes a complete walking-costume in itself. The “Lorenza” is a perfectly plain, double-breasted garment with a lap in the middle seam in the back, and is adapted to all seasonable materials suit able for outer garments. The illustration represents tan-colored, rough-surfaced cloth, trimmed with seal far. The hat is of brown velvet with brown ostrich-tips and a bow of orange-colored velvet.

Here’s an illustration of the Lorenza pattern redingote:

For a better idea of what they looked like, here’s one extant redingote that I found on the Augusta Auctions website:

In viewing the above redingote, it appears that it’s most likely late 1880s vintage: it’s structure is clearly shaped to accommodate a bustled skirt. This is an interesting combination of functional and decorate styles and definitely fulfills its function as outerwear.

Now let’s take a look at some dress redingote styles starting with this style featured in the April 1881 issue of Peterson’s Magazine:

Below is a full description of the style:

No. 2 Is a walking costume for a young lady, the material of which is summer camel’s hair cloth, light twilled flannel, de laine, de beige, albatross, cloth, or any of the endless variety of spring fabrics, may be used for this style of dress. The skirt, has, first a narrow knife-plaiting two and a-half inches deep. Over this, a side plaiting, or more properly a kilt-plaiting, a-half yard deep, on to which a puff is laid, six inches
from the bottom. This puff is gathered with a cord in the edge.

The polonaise is a revival of the old fashioned Redingote—cut with loose fronts and a tight-fitting back—belted in at the waist to fit the figure. This garment is double-breasted and finished with a rolling collar of silk or velvet. The belt, cuffs, loops, and ends, forming the garniture of the polonaise, are all made of silver silk or velvet, to match, or else of a contrasting color, or darker shade of the same color.

From the illustration may be seen about how far in front to leave the garment open. The edges arc simply piped with the silk. The fullness in the back is arranged in irregular pouffs. A similar bow of loops and ends is placed at the back, just below the waist line. The bows may be made of ribbon, if preferred. Ten to twelve yards of double width material will be required. For collar, cuffs, and belt, three-quarters of a yard of silk or velvet. One yard extra for loops or four yards of ribbon. Two dozen buttons. Fancy buttons are most fashionable.

Besides the technical details, what’s interesting is that the idea that the polonaise is a revival of the redingote. This is an interesting proposition although we’re more included to think that it’s more of a blurring of styles. From the example above, it would seem that the redingote itself has been modified to be more loose towards the bottom and treated as more of an overskirt.  Moving forward, we see another Redingote style in the September 1888 issue of Peterson’s Magazine:


Unfortunately, there’s no description but it’s clear that this style runs fairly true to the classic 1790s style with a double-breasted front combined with skirt opening up to reveal a patterned underskirt. And for a little variation, there’s this style from the October 1890 edition of Peterson’s Magazine:


The above dress is described as a:

…handsome street or traveling gown. It is made of gray cashmere or camel’s hair. The petticoat, of two tints of gray in stripes, is kilt-plaited [pleated] on the left side, up to the waist. The overdress is the newest style of redingote polonaise, the front of which has a few plaits near the waist to give a slight fullness. The back of the skirt is very full. The trimming for this gown is of gray plush or fur, as the individual taste may decide…

The above redingote is styled as more of a robe than a coat but the effect is similar. Another variation of sorts can be found in these two dresses by Pingat:

Reception Dress, Emile Pingat, c. 1885; Shelburne Museum (2010-75)

Three-Quarter Rear View

Pingat, Promenade Dress, 1888; Metropolitan Museum of Art (2009.300.7758a, b)

Rear View

Right Side Profile

These two dresses are very similar in style and look back more to the mid-Eighteenth Century with  the cut of the coat and trim details. The redingote dress style was an interesting style variant in the 1880s and 1890s and while in many respects it reflected its 18th and early 19th Century predecessors, it also added new elements such as the robe. Unfortunately for us, there are not a lot of extant examples out there so we’ve had to work through fashion publications and the fact that patterns were offered through publications such as Peterson’s and Demorest’s suggests that there was a demand for these designs by the public.

(To be continued…)