Department of Quotation: The Worsley Scandal

Loretta reports:

“The court heard that while [Sir Richard] Worsley was quartered in the military camp at Cox’s Heath, Lady Worsley had often used the nearby bathhouse at Maidstone. On one occasion her husband had tapped on the bathhouse door, saying ‘[Captain] Bissett is going to get up to look at you.’ Hoist Bissett up to the window Worsley duly did, for him to gaze on her nakedness.”

Vic Gatrell, City of Laughter: Sex and Satire in Eighteenth-Century London.

You can read the court proceedings here.

And more about Lady Worsley here.

Here’s one of the satirical prints.

Cary Grant

Susan reports:

As Loretta has reported earlier this week, we've been in the deadline-doldrums.  Yet whilst toiling hard on our manuscripts, there's no real reason why we can't take tiny breaks to wander around the internet (which is how we discovered Loubie-Barbie.)

One of our fav sites to look at -- quite literally, because there's not a whole lot of text -- is The Sartorialist, a visual "diary" of street-style around the world by renowned fashion photographer Scott Schuman.  Sometimes when mired in a thousand words, one gorgeous picture is all it takes to shake the muse lose.  The Sartorialist is also the title of Schuman's own first book, a delight for anyone who enjoys fashion, individuality, people-watching, and photography, as the TNHGs most definitely do.

Recently The Sartorialist raved about a new book of photographs of actor Cary Grant.  Apparently it takes the French to produce the best illustrated book about an English actor who made his fortune in America...but that's a blog for another day.  What struck us was the cover of this book, reminding us of the astonishing male beauty and style of Cary Grant.  Since Cary was born in 1904, we think we can include him here.  

Besides, we're quite certain that had Archibald Alexander Leach been born in 1604, or 1704, 0r 1804, he still would have epitomized a certain kind of manly perfection. Sigh.

Flats were sexy once

Loretta reports:

Susan will be back in a moment. In the meantime, after meditating at length on Louboutin shoes, I’ve been trying to remember if there was any time in my whole life when high heels weren’t cool and sexy. Don’t think so.

It’s interesting that during the late 18th and early 19th century, flat shoes became high fashion. The ballet dancer look was hot.

High or flat, though, milady's shoes did not come in right or left. One assumes this means the shoes can’t be comfortable. Not so. The Colonial Williamsburg shoemaker pointed out that good quality leather, being very soft and supple, shapes to one’s foot in a matter of hours. The leather here is much softer than it looks--like butter, yes. Too, labor being cheap once upon a time, my aristocratic hero or heroine would have had his or her shoes made, exquisitely, to order. Scroll down here for a couple of early 19th C shoe shop interiors. Nordstrom’s it’s not.

Barbie á la Louboutin

Loretta reports:

This is my Deadline Barbie. She quite accurately captures my state during the last stages of a book. As many know, I am a Barbie devotee. My favorite ones are the early ones, like this one, when she still retained evidence of her European origins . . . based on a German cartoon prostitute.

As part of our ongoing diligent research into shoes, alert Nerdy History Girl Susan sent me the latest news from France about Barbie. She’s had a makeover courtesy Christian Louboutin.

One of the many things we love about Louboutin is of course the red soles, which remind us of the hot red heels of the 17th century, like the ones King Louis XIV is wearing.

But we were fascinated by the transformation Louboutin wrought. He’s made Barbie French! Ooh la la!

The end better be near

Loretta reports:

Though Susan and I don’t live in the same dormitory or even the same state, we both get our deadlines at the same time. That would be now. Call us crazy but we thought it might be a good idea to devote the next few days to finishing our books.

This means we don’t expect to be posting this week. It might happen but don’t count on it. We might put up some amusing pictures, if we can see straight.

Otherwise, just imagine us up all night in front of our computers, fighting with the writing gods and hoping our editors don’t yell at us too much.

Annals of Bathing 6: The Last Word (For Now)

Susan reports:

From the Diary of Samuel Pepys, written between 1660-1669:

"My wife being busy in going with her woman to a hot-house to bathe herself, after her long being within doors in the dirt, so that she now pretends to a resolution of being hereafter very clean. How long it will hold I can guess. . . .

"At night late home, and to clean myself with warm water; [now] my wife will have me, because she doth [wash] herself, and so to bed."

Above: The King's Bath and the Queen's Bath at Bath 1675, by Thomas Johnson (1634-1676 fl.) from the collection of the British Museum; copyright The Trustees of the British Museum.  The King's Bath is the oldest of the baths, dating from at least the 13th c.  This drawing from the 17th c. shows a lively scene worthy of a modern swimming pool, with bathers of all ages (and of all dress and undress) and both genders, plus many spectators gathered along the rails and watching from the windows of surrounding houses.  To learn more, click on the title of the print.  

Annals of Bathing 5: Tepid bath

Loretta reports:

From The New Female Instructor or Young Woman’s Guide to Domestic Happiness (first published in the 1830s):

"Hence tepid* baths are of eminent service where the body has been overheated, from whatever cause, whether after fatigue from travelling, or severe bodily exercise, or after violent exertion and perturbation of mind; as they allay the tempestuous and irregular movements of the body, and frequently, in the strictest sense, invigorate the system. By their softening, moistening, and tumefying power, they greatly contribute to the formation and growth of the bodies of young persons; and are of a singular benefit to those in whom we perceive a tendency to arrive too early at the consistence of a settled age; so that the warm bath is particularly adapted to prolong the state of youth, and retard for some time the approach of full manhood. This effect the tepid baths produce in a manner exactly alike, in the coldest as well as in the hottest climates."

* “about the temperature of the blood, between 96 and 98° of Fahrenheit”

This book review Susan found offers a nice summary of the complex subject we've tackled this week.

Above is a detail fromThomas Eakins's The Swimming Hole.