Books We Love Insider Blog: coming of age in the 1950's

A-Master-Passion, The Story of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler

Amelia Bloomer (1818-1894) "When you find a burden in belief or apparel, cast it off!"

If only I could! I begin with a digression.

Amelia Bloomer! How I hate to leave her behind, this strong woman, born in 1818, (while Napoleon was still kicking) who didn't leave off her earthly crusades for temperance, comfortable underwear, and equality for women, until 1894, just a few years short of the death of Queen Victoria. She advocated not only sensible clothing for women, but for Equal Rights for Women. Consider: She was a woman whose ideas were so far "ahead of her time" that "her time" hasn't yet arrived.

Bras have been around for a long time. We can see them in Minoan paintings and Roman Mosaics. Minoan women appear to have worn a boned garment rather like the much later stays, however they left the breasts bare--perhaps this was only for priestesses or aristocratic women. Sadly, we can't ask them who dressed this way--was it a status thing, or was it garb for priestesses?

Minoan Lady and entourage

Later, there are Roman mosaics of female athletes in bandeau, fabric strips tied to secure the breasts during strenuous activity.

Let us not forget the medieval "breast bags," which is the laugh line among all these varieties of bosom management. One of the two medieval sources for the "breast bags" huffily claims such items of clothing were "indecent." I'd like to see that fella deal with a pair of 46DDs and see how well he got along without some means of protection and support.

The stays and jumps were the body-shapers of the 16th-18th Century, the ideal to make an inverted cone of the upper body. The stays were boned and tailored to cinch the waist and lift the bosom.

Margaret Wells in stays & Will, husband and security for her bawdy house.

Hulu's Harlots

Stays were what decent women wore, and are probably the original of "straight laced." Women who had health problems, who were lounging at home, or those termed "loose," wore jumps, which were laced, but were not heavily boned. Jumps were made of a sturdy quilted material and were widely worn by servants who required more freedom of motion and by pregnant women as bellies grew.

Jumps* pictured at

http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O13542/waistcoat-unknown/

And on and on I could go--and I will--but would just like to stop here for a moment to say that the jumps are an item of underclothing I'd love to try. After years of enduring various iterations of of the modern brassiere, I've become convinced that this is my dream solution. My most recent attempts to shop for bras during the pandemic--where I cannot visit the fitting room--inspired this article.

After a brief period--Regency, Napoleonic--where young or slender women were released into wrapped corsets--the conservative reaction of the Victorian period came in. This would lead to ever more tailored full body corsets. Whale bone began to give way to metal wire in order to achieve shaping. In the most extreme fashionistas wearing these garments would lead to unhealthy, misshapen vital organs and what appears in fiction of the times as an epidemic of fainting. (And you would faint, too, if you were cinched in like that.)

Bone, metal, cotton, 1830-35

Brooklyn Museum Collection @

Metropolitan Museum of Art

In 1889 Herminie Cadole of France changed the underwear game with the introduction of a two piece garment. Basically, she'd separated the one piece stay into girdle and brassiere, the later term coined by American Vogue, in 1911. Herminie called her invention a Corset Gorge-one item of underwear for the waist and belly and the other for bust shaping which was supported by the innovation of shoulder straps.

Consider this: like a lot of things in a woman's world, not much has changed in the land of underwear. The girdle is rarely worn anymore by girls, but it has made a bang up return lately as the older women of the western world steadily gain weight. Today girdles come in spandex, with "bones" of plastic.

The Roman bandeau was reborn in the twenties. I remember my grandma telling me how she used to wrap herself up in medical bandages. This fashion for flat-chested beauty was brief. GMA's story of the twenties was told before the travail of my going bra shopping with her and my Mother. I remember feeling that this event was some dreadful but hallowed middle-class woman's coming of age ritual, this teen age trip to the chilly fitting rooms of a city department store.

Here my modesty was sacrificed under the eyes of -- not only my august progenitors, but those of a heavy, weary, white-haired sales woman wielding a tape measure. There were humiliations inside this Syracuse store for girls that A Christmas Story's Ralphie could never know.

I've had a war on with the brassiere for the last 35 years, a period which covers my transition from middle age to a "senior" body container. During this time, I frankly confess, I've been at least 30+ lbs overweight, much chub settling in my bosom.

Step for a moment outside the box of culture and ponder all of the above. Why do we women believe we must shape our bodies to some exterior standard? This belief has been part of human culture in hundreds of ways for thousands of years, this requirement that women must alter their bodies in certain ways, ways which constrain our movements, ways which weaken our muscles, especially the upper body.

I'd like to "cast off" the burden of the bra, but unless I return to my youthful A cup self, this won't happen. When cutting the hedge, mowing the lawn--or while playing Rosie the Riveter--a figure like mine needs support--containment--call it what you will. That's why I'm intrigued by those jumps. I suppose they'd be hot, but heck, they also wouldn't dig grooves in your shoulders.