Structured Beauties: Evolution of the Crinoline
By: Emily Bach
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Slide 1:
As my experience and skills in costume history have expanded over the past few years, there is one aspect that consistently peaks my interest, which is the evolution of women’s undergarments. These structures influenced the construction and appearance of a garment and analyzing a dress’s intended silhouette provides a useful dating tool. One silhouette-altering structure was the cage crinoline, whose origins can be traced back to the 15th century. Historically, wearing this under-structure created the desired shape, displayed a textile most efficiently, and impacted a woman’s health, both negatively and positively depending on the sources one consults. Located on the second floor of the historic Pratt House, where the majority of the costume collection still resides, is a room where dozens of cage crinolines, or hoop skirts, cover the floor. This inspired me to delve into the history of the hoop skirt and analyze how these clothing articles reflected industrialism during the 1860s.
Slide 2:
Fashion is an especially interesting field of study because it is cyclical, meaning certain styles and trends reappear over time. Various costume historians argue that the manipulation of the body through the utilization of structured undergarments began during the Middle Ages. Rather than constructing a garment based upon a woman’s natural body, silhouettes reflected the cultural body, the shape reflective of society’s expectation of women.[1]
The hoop skirt first appeared in women’s fashion during the 15th century when Queen Joan of Portugal wore a circular mechanism, called a farthingale, to disguise her pregnancy in 1468.[2] Farthingales, which were called verdagos in Spain, were constructed from various materials, such as whalebone, rattan, reeds, and even cord. Unlike 18th and 19th century variations of this hoop structure, farthingales were often visible until the very end of the 15th century when craftsmen of this structure began to insert the hoops into an underskirt. This officially transformed the mechanism into an undergarment.[3] As Axel Moulinier and Sophie Vesin claim within their study of women’s undergarments and their influence on the body, farthingales “became one of the first undergarments aimed at transforming the general silhouette of the body.”[4]
As women continued to wear this Spanish-style farthingale, a new style of this garment, the French farthingale, gained popularity. In contrast to the conical structure of the Spanish farthingale, women who adopted this new style wore a circular padding, often called a “bum roll” that added volume to the hips.[5]
Slide 3:
The third rendition of this undergarment was the barrel or wheel farthingale. It first appeared during the 16th century in England and is more widely known amongst masses today because Queen Elizabeth wore this mechanism, which can be seen in portraits painted of her. As depicted in these artworks, this specific variation earned its two names because it truly gave a woman the appearance of wearing a barrel with its cylindrical shape and the flat “platter” worn around the hips resembled a wheel. The barrel and Spanish farthingales differentiated from one another substantially in structure and both would be reintroduced throughout the 18th and 19th centuries as panniers and cage crinolines.
Slide 4:
During the early decades of the 18th century, panniers appeared in fashion as another type of skirt support shaped by hoops in a conical design, similar to the Spanish farthingale.[6] As the years progressed and new dress styles were introduced, panniers widened at the tops, back, and front. Compared to depictions of farthingales from the earlier centuries, these geometric panniers most resembled the wheel or barrel farthingales with the structure creating a sharp-angled silhouette. When one thinks of this undergarment, images of court dresses of extreme widths forcing women to enter doorways sideways come to mind. Those who adopted such exaggerated fashion were of the upper echelon in society and wore these grand panniers during ceremonial events and for court presentations. Those of lower and working classes would either wear a smaller version or none due to the inconvenience of the larger version and, thus, panniers became an indicator of social status.[7][8] Because of the flat façade created by these grande panniers, intricate silver and gold thread embroidery sewn by seamstresses of extraordinary skill embellished the textile and transformed a woman into a walking work of art that boasted one’s wealth.
Slide 5:
As the pannier became wider and shorter, it split into two around the middle of the century.[9] These became known as pocket hoops, which is what the museum hosts in its collection. As seen in the photograph, only one pannier survives, but one can still visualize what shape this support would have created, especially when seen next to a photograph of a 1760s dress that would have required these pocket hoops. This pannier is constructed by three whalebone hoops that are covered by glazed linen. Originally, the two separate hoops would have been connected to one another with cotton-twill ties, which survived on the museum’s single pannier.
Slide 6:
As the favored silhouette changed significantly during the last decade of the 18th century, panniers disappeared from everyday fashion. Women preferred wearing dresses à l’antique that resembled ancient Greek and Roman statues with their high waists, long narrow skirts, and short sleeves. White, lightweight fabric blossomed in popularity to mimic the white marble statues and the intricate drapery and there was a turn towards naturalness and embracing the body. The thin fabrics hugged a woman’s natural curves and some women were even rumored to dampen their dresses to encourage the clinging.[10] As mentioned earlier, however, fashion is cyclical and the corsetry and efforts to achieve a dramatic hourglass shape returned.
Slide 7:
Corsets assisted women in achieving a tiny, wasp waist but women also utilized voluminous skirts to create the illusion of an hourglass figure. From the 1830s onwards, women wore multiple layers of petticoats of various materials to achieve the fashionable full skirt of the decade. Such variations involved stiffening ruffles at the waist of petticoats to enlarge the top of the skirt, sewing straw into the hems of petticoats, wearing quilted petticoats to create more fullness, and stiffening petticoats with horsehair, also known as crin, the word from which crinoline originates.[11] Women sometimes wore up to seven layers, causing the spine and hips to carry a significant amount of weight. Douglas & Sherwood, a manufacturing company of cage crinolines, persuaded consumers to purchase the company’s newly patented adjustable bustle and skirt in February of 1858 by emphasizing that the hoop skirt combined “lightness with extreme elasticity and strength…[which] relieve[d] the spine from the heat caused by wearing a great number of thicknesses, and thus obviate[d] the evils of compressing the figure…”[12] By 1856, wearing hoop skirts became fashionably acceptable for women and by 1857, advertisements existed for “spring skirts,” or “petticoats with steel hoops,” indicating the garment’s entrance into American society. [13]
One cage crinoline within the Maryland Historical Society’s collection especially caught my attention due to its detailed label that provides a wonderful story. Printed onto the hoop’s waistband is a manufacturer’s label that roughly translates from French to English as “Thomson’s Celebrated Cage Crinoline // Number 5 Reinforcement Ring // Paris // Patented Milliet without the guarantee of the government // Unrivaled Medal at the London Exposition, 1862.” When analyzing this artifact, important pieces of information regarding the history of crinolines are revealed, those being the creation of the first cage crinoline in the 19th century, the industrialization of fashion during this time, and the controversy of this structure.
While the Frenchman who first invented the cage crinoline is still officially unknown, many credit R.C. Milliet, whose name is printed onto the waistband. On December 16th, 1856, Milliet secured a patent for the skeleton petticoat, a term he used to identify his hoop skirt. The patent describes in detail how the crinoline achieved its shape and its benefits. According to Milliet, he utilized steel spring, a material first used by watchmakers, due to its flexibility and formed them into ten circles or hoops that increased in circumference from top to bottom. Specifications in the patent boasted that “ladies will possess a sous-jupe or under-petticoat incapable of being put of shape, but so flexible as to yield to every movement or pressure.”[14]
This specific crinoline also reveals how its manufacturing was quite industrial. According to the label, this specific structure was a Thomson cage. Thomson was the leading crinoline manufacturer of the 1850s and 1860s and operated crinoline factories in England and Continental Europe. Their reputation was firmly established within the American industry, explaining why this crinoline ended up in the Maryland Historical Society’s collection. The Thomson Brothers proudly advertised their production numbers in an 1859 Harper’s Weekly publication, which reported that its “New York factory consumed 300,000 yards of spring steel every week, producing 3000 to 4000 crinolines daily, and employed an average of a thousand girls at four dollars a week.”[15]
Slide 8:
Additionally, Milliet won a medal for this specific crinoline model at the International Exposition in London in 1862, a world exhibit intended to display the advancements in art and industry.[16] Various articles and advertisements referenced this award and called this Thomson cage as the “only prize medal for crinolines.” Another indication of fashion’s intersection with industry when analyzing this cage crinoline is the existence of its metal hinges. One patent dating to 1863 discusses such crinoline fastenings. According to the patent, the hinges enabled a crinoline to be “contracted or expanded at the will of the wearer” while also serving the integral purpose of joining the steel boning of the skirt together. The joints opened outwards and inwards, allowing a woman to compress and expand her undergarment at will. This would remove any cumbersome maneuvering and assisted in the wearer’s movements.[17]
Slide 9:
Milliet’s cage also testified to the controversy of the cage crinoline and the conflicting sentiment directed towards the structure. Various advertisements and publications praised the innovation. On August 8th, 1863, an advertisement published in the Commercial Journal of Dublin included testaments from various publications that celebrated the invention. For example, the journal, L’Artiste, described the crinoline as a fashion staple due to its easy usage, its lightness, its flexibility, and the claim that women did not tire as easily while wearing it. Another statement included was written by Le Follet, which commented how the multiple layers women previously wore exceeded two pounds while Thomson’s cage crinoline weighed less than half a pound, stressing how the structure excelled in “variety, lightness, grace, and perfection of manufacture.”[18]
Cage crinolines also provided health miracles, as seen in one article from Frank Leslie’s Weekly, an American illustrated literary and news publication, in 1858. According to the publication, while a woman embarked upon a boat, she lost her balance and fell into the water. Although she withstood a brutal current that carried her away rapidly, she was fortunately wearing her crinoline during the event. Due to this undergarment, she floated safely down the stream until a boatman pulled her out of the water.[19] Another similar event occurred in 1867 when a girl in Canada almost drowned while skating due to the breakage of ice underneath her feet. Fortunately “her crinoline held her dress distended and kept her floating until assistance arrived.”[20]
Despite the cage crinoline’s praises for its revolutionizing women’s wear and benefitting one’s health, the structure did have its disadvantages and critics. Because the hoop expanded a woman’s width, many complained that the new undergarment hindered movement, as well as fed into a woman’s vanity. Unlike the neoclassical style of the early 1800s where fashion liberated a woman’s movement, the crinoline of the mid-19th century accomplished the opposite. An article in 1857 mocked a woman’s cluelessness regarding her surroundings due to her crinoline, and while the story is amusing, for the audience to be receptive of the joke, the issue of women suffering from blind spots resulting from the cage crinoline had to be steeped in truth. The story begins innocently enough with a woman strolling down the street in latest fashion when a dog joins her company. Alas, she cannot see but his curly tail due to her crinoline hiding him from view. Unbeknownst to her, another dog joins, which sparks a gruesome battle between the two canines underneath her crinoline, yet she remains oblivious of this for one hour or more. The woman only becomes aware of the chaotic situation happening below when she is bitten, emphasizing how the crinoline limited a woman’s awareness of her surroundings with its large circumference.[21]
Additionally, one pamphlet entitled “The Dangers of Crinoline” hinted at the struggle of maneuvering stairs while wearing this skirt support. The publication’s author described women as walking down the stairs as avalanches descending upon others, implying the clumsiness that women faced while wearing these skirt supports.[22]
In 1857 during the advent of the crinoline in America, a woman named Jane Matilda wrote to Punch, a British weekly magazine of humor and satire, and lamented about how the cage crinolines caused struggles in marriage. In Matilda’s entertaining description, wives who wore these hoop structures that exaggerated their shape became vain by requiring “more than ten times the space in the world than ever Nature intended for her.”[23]
Most complaints related to women catching on fire due to these garments. On December 11th, 1858, an article aptly entitled “The Curse of Crinoline” in the Pontefract Advertiser announced the death of a woman after being “dreadfully burnt in consequence of her dress catching fire.” A writer to the newspaper recounted how his own wife almost perished from the same fate when she stood by the parlor fire and the bottom of her dress ignited, which quickly spread to her waist. With a crinoline’s steel wires extending and blazing hearths blaring during the winter time, the writer declared that the undergarment itself was a woman’s funeral pyre.[24] This was not a rare occurrence either as one writer described the crinoline as an “invention which has already cost a holocaust of lives” whose casualties equated or exceeded the numbers of lives lost during the wars of Emperor Napoleon III. Despite this risk, ladies, or “fair combustibles” according to an article entitled “Press Versus Dress,” “declared their willingness to brave the fate of the phoenix than yield an inch of their circumference.”[25]
Slide 10:
Regardless of criticisms and satirical cartoons depicting hoop structures throughout history, these skirt structures continually reappeared as new renditions in later decades. After the cage crinoline’s peak during the 1860s, the structure’s volume transferred to the back and bustles predominated for supporting a dress’s weight from the 1870s to 1890s. As the 20th century approached, skirt supports once again disappeared, but returned in the 1920s with modified panniers for the robe de style dresses. As this trend faded, crinolines once again gained popularity during the 1950s, but as tulle rather than steel, with the introduction of Dior’s new look and emphasis on the hourglass shape. While critics constantly predicted the downfall of skirt supports throughout history, they nevertheless continued with the amiable support of those who wore them.
[1] Denis Bruna “Medieval Fashions, Bodies, and Transformations,” in Fashioning the Body 2015, ed. Denis Bruna (New York: The Coby Foundation, LTD, 2015), 31-32.
[2] Alexis Moulinier and Sophie Vesin, “Women’s Undergarments and the Submission of the Body in the Sixteenth Century,” in Fashioning the Body, ed. Denis Bruna (New York: The Coby Foundation Ltd, 2015), 57.
[3] Ibid 58
[4] Ibid. 58.
[5] Ibid. 59.
[6] Anne-Cécile Moheng, “Whalebone Stays and Panniers: The Mechanics of Good Carriage in the Eighteenth Carriage,” in Fashioning the Body, ed. Denis Bruna (New York: The Coby Foundation Ltd, 2015), 117.
[7] Lydia Edwards, How to Read a Dress: A Guide to Changing Fashion from the 16th to the 20th Century (New York: Bloomsbury, 2017), 46.
[8] Madeleine Ginsburg Avril Hart, Valerie D. Mendes, and other members of the Department of Textiles and Dress, Four Hundred Years of Fashion, ed. Natalie Rothstein (London: William Collines Sons & Co Ltd, 1984), 23-24.
[9] Anne-Cécile Moheng, “Whalebone Stays and Panniers: The Mechanics of Good Carriage in the Eighteenth Carriage,” in Fashioning the Body, ed. Denis Bruna (New York: The Coby Foundation Ltd, 2015), 118.
[10] Lydia Edwards, How to Read a Dress: A Guide to Changing Fashion from the 16th to the 20th Century (New York: Bloomsbury, 2017), 64.
[11] Joan Severa, Dressed for the Photographer: Ordinary Americans and Fashion, 1840-1900 (Kent State University Press, 1995), 97.
[12] Godey’s Lady’s Book, “Douglas & Sherwood’s Patent Adjustable Bustle and Skirt,” Godey’s Lady’s Book, February 1858.
[13] Severa, Dressed for the Photographer, 97-98.
[14] Specifications of Inventions. Record 1: 1617-1875, Volume 36, Issues 2953-3036, January 1, 1857,
[15] Julie Wosk, “Women and the Machine: Representations from the spinning Wheel to the Electronic Age,” (Baltimore: John Hopkins University Press, 2003), 49-50.
[16] “The Exhibition Building of 1862,” in Survey of London: Volume 38, South Kensington Museums Area, ed. F H W Sheppard (London: London County Council, 1975), 137-147. British History Online, accessed July 30, 2017, http://www.british-history.ac.uk/survey-london/vol38/pp137-147.
[17] Patents for Inventions – Abridgments of Specifications, Volume 91. Number 2168. September 2, 1863.
[18] Commercial Journal, “The Only Prize Medal For Crinolines” Saturday August 8, 1863, Dublin, Republic of Ireland
[19] Frank Leslie’s Weekly, “Parlor Gossip for the Ladies,” Frank Leslie’s Weekly, October 2, 1858.
[20] Frank Leslie’s Weekly, “Home Incidents, Accidents, &C.,” Frank Leslie’s Weekly, January 19, 1867.
[21] Punch or the London Charivari, “A Column of Gold. Punch Upon Marriage and its Difficulties,” Frank Leslie’s Weekly, July 18, 1857.
[22] The Weekly Vincennes Western Sun, “More About Hoops,” The Weekly Vincennes Western Sun, December 25, 1858.
[23] Punch, or the London Charivari, May 16, 1857, vlumes 32-33, page 194, Marriage and its difficulties
[24] T.M.S, “Curse of Crinoline,” Pontefract Advertiser, (Pontefract, West Yorkshire, England), December 11, 1858.
[25] “Press Versus Dress – A Collapse Imminent,” in Vincennes Gazette, April 11, 1863, collection: The Civil War