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KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



so far, so good. But the projectors of it, — - 

 where are they ? The aiders and abettors 

 of it, — where are they ? The principal per- 

 formers in it, — where are they? Gone — 

 all gone ! Our pen, at the eleventh , hour, 

 therefore, is useless. 



We have no wish to be regarded as over- 

 scrupulous. The public seem to think that 

 a black-eyed, roguish, trim-built hoyden, 

 decked in all the "taking" insignia of 

 " Bloomerism," and vegetating behind the 

 bar of a tavern, is a smart sight ! So it is. 

 It is, moreover, in keeping with the cha- 

 racter of the house, and brings grist to the 

 till of the proprietor. But for an} 7 person 

 seriously to contemplate the general intro- 

 duction of short skirts, fore-shortened pan- 

 talettes, wide-awake " tiles," and the cerise 

 streamer, to be worn by any of our really 

 modest maidens — out upon him for a fool! 

 We would die rather, pen in hand ! 



Now that the farce is over, we may fairly 

 be allowed to avail ourselves of the oppor- 

 tunity to offer a few observations on the ex- 

 isting costume of our fair countrywomen. 

 Had we not a real regard for them,, we 

 should be silent. Their mode of attire is, 

 undeniably, unbecoming. We say so — the 

 world says so. Nature has benignantly 

 given them, for the most part, beautiful 

 figures ; and what use do they make of 

 them ? They are, if truth be spoken — 

 we speak submissively-— simply "pegs" 

 whereon to hang a most ineffective drapery. 

 Their form — 



"If form that can be called, which form hath 

 none "— - 



is painful to a common beholder — distress- 

 ing to an admiring beholder ; simply because 

 his admiration must necessarily be qualified. 



Time was — long since we were boys — 

 that things were mightily different. It was 

 not then thought indelicate for ladies' de- 

 pendencies to terminate some one-and-a-half 

 inches above their ankles — thus disclosing a 

 neat, pretty foot, and a clean dress ; sights 

 which— lioni soit qui mal y pense — we should 

 like to see again, but quite despair of the 

 prospect. Their habiliments, too, were in 

 unison, and we could form some pleasing 

 idea of the "human form divine." Not so 

 now. All is vague conjecture. They wear 

 our coats and wrappers too ! 



If it were related by any wag of a tra- 

 veller, that the ladies of some foreign land 

 were in the habit of attiring themselves in 

 the way ours do — and if minute details were 

 given in a supposed book of travels, setting 

 forth as actual facts the habits which exist 

 here ; our countrywomen would be shocked 

 exceedingly. 



" Nomine mutato, narratur fabnla de te" 



says the poet ; but, as we all know, none 



are so blind as those who wilfully refuse to 

 see. " Tis true, 'tis pity : pity 'tis, 'tis 

 true ! " How have we shuddered, how do 

 we shudder, whenever we have the misfor- 

 tune to walk behind any of our ladies fair 

 on a wet clay ! What a disclosure, when 

 the heavy folds of drapery are raised ! 

 What awfully-dirty stockings ! What 

 filthity-muddy accoutrements ! Well and 

 truly have the wearers of these long dra- 

 peries been christened " street-sweepers ! " 

 We say nothing about the extra costs out of 

 " the governors' " pockets — to buy new 

 dresses ! 



It is mere maudlin affectation to say that 

 these habits are induced by feelings of 

 delicacy ; for the very same persons will 

 appear, night after night, at a party or a 

 theatre, in a state of semi-nudity ; and no 

 blush mantling upon their cheeks. We love 

 modesty — dote on it — but we equally detest 

 " mock "-modesty. It has been wisely said — 



" In medio iutissimus ihis ; " 



this is always the safest course, for extremes 

 are ever bad : verbum sat. 



What we propose is — a return to the 

 " good old times ;" when our sisters, our 

 mothers, our " heart's delight," and our 

 female acquaintance, could skip, run, romp, 

 dance— ay, and assist us in weeding a 

 garden, and potting our plants. This, now, 

 is out of the question. They cannot stoop — 

 their drapery sweeps the ground, even when 

 they stand erect ! Thus are we deprived of 

 what we ought to expect by right. In 

 sober truth, our lot is — " dummies ! " 



We were in hopes, that Mrs. Amelia 

 Bloomer would at least have been the 

 means of introducing a modified change of 

 female apparel ; and Jullien, by the aid of a 

 clever artist, who produced a most chastely- 

 attired, well-formed figure, has materially 

 prompted the move ; but, alas ! the fancy - 

 balls, public-houses, and tobacconists' shops, 

 — each had their "Bloomer!" — quite de- 

 stroyed the last spark of hope ; and things, 

 worse luck ! remain as they were. We are 

 glad to see that our much-respected con- 

 temporaries, Chambers' 1 s Journal, Eliza 

 Cook's Journal, with many others, quite 

 agree with the spirit of our remarks. A 

 correspondent of the former, even goes so 

 far as to question whether our ladies are 

 really possessed of " any sense !" Let us 

 charitably call them " monomaniacs," and 

 pray that they may have a lucid interval. 

 By the way, it was the Morning Post and 

 the Morning Advertiser that " scotched " 

 Bloomerism. It was reserved for that 

 bright luminary, the Sun, to "kill " it. We 

 never saw a blow struck with such fatal 

 effect. To improvise a small joke, it was a 

 " coup de Soleil I " 



["Our ' Extra' Contributor," in his zeal 



