THE BATTLE OF THE SKIRTS
HALF humorist, half philosopher, a good friend of ours wrote in his commonplace book a few weeks ago: “To-day, at high noon, saw two young women wearing skirts that reached down, down, down to their very heels. Experienced a sensation not only of bewilderment but of shock. Stared. Then averted my face. Was in the same mood, precisely, as the London fishwife who, on first seeing a girl in bicycle costume, cried, ‘Garn! you shameless ‘ussy! You’ll never get an ‘usband!’ . . . Something tells me that all this is laughable.”
Two weeks later our friend wrote: “Several more young women have ventured out in long skirts, and wonderful is the effect on wearers of short skirts. A look of icy hate overspreads their countenances. I suppose it was with some such hate that Mr. Harold Hendee, having starred in ‘The Very Idea’ and arrived in New York with that play, beheld the posters thereof inscribed, not with the name of Hendee, but with that of Mr. Ernest Truex.”
Meanwhile others besides the laughing philosopher had their say-especially our feminists. With great solemnity they predicted that the attempt to reintroduce long skirts would fail. “Women will never again submit,” they told us. Yet long skirts have multiplied; uptown they already outnumber short skirts six to one, while philosophers remind us that masculine dictation from overseas directs these matters and quote George Fitch’s remark, “Ever since the world began men have tried to invent something that women would refuse to wear. Thus far they have not succeeded.”
But women have had short skirts ere this, and reverted to long skirts ere this-not always in obedience to masculine dictation, either. In 1898 students at Smith College adopted exactly the costume of the present-day “flappers.” By their own choice they abandoned it. Who shall say but that women are now acting as freely? The reversion to long skirts set in just when we had come to sanction short skirts and a shrewd paragrapher had written: “To bring the flapper to terms, approve of her. Then she’ll stop it.”
But she has only half stopped it. The battle of the skirts still rages-short ones versus long ones, with long ones predominating among women of the prosperous class and short ones predominating among women of the wage-earning class. How will this end? In Buffalo during the “bicycle summer” of 1895 bicycle girls on the prosperous West Side adopted short skirts. Immediately East Side girls did likewise. Whereupon the West Side went back to long skirts. So the East Side went back to long skirts also. Once let the short skirt imply a weekly envelope, and its day in America is done, for in America our wage-earning women are without caste pride. It takes Frenchwomen to develop that. How airily the little midinette trips forth, hatless and in attire jauntily proclaiming that she wins her bread by making artificial flowers or by delicately embroidering fine linen!
Less than a year ago a noted criminologist solemnly attributed the “crime wave” to the “scandalous dress of our women,” and no one laughed. It has since dawned upon us that such utterances bespeak great folly. Perhaps we risk folly as great by suggesting that-conceivably, at least-the return of long skirts indicates a reinstatement of temporarily demoded standards in other realms besides those of fashion. But it is not fashion alone that shows change. From many sources come testimonies that “flapperism” has “passed the peak.” Moreover, a change in fashion reflects a change in mood. Not all new fashions succeed; the trouser skirt of 1911 failed ignoniiniously; when a fashion succeeds, it is because it finds an honest welcome, and the mood that welcomes a return to long skirts would seem to be a reaction against what a popular novelist has termed “this freedom.”
Doubtless the world will never again behold the “elegant female” of our grandmothers’ day, but the tendency at present is toward a recovery of discarded dignities and refinements. If women have learned that they are free to dress as they choose and behave as they choose, they have also learned that an element quite apart from a more or less obscure morality (or psuedo-morality) enters in-the element, that is to say, of good taste. Half our principles, when you come to think of it, rest, not upon moral considerations, but upon aesthetic considerations.
Source: The Outlook, 18 October 1922