Bathing Beauties
In the mid 18th century, Dr Charles Russel recommended the use of seawater for healing various diseases. Twenty odd years later William Buchan advocated the practice in his 1769 book Domestic Medicine. Suddenly it became fashionable to go to the beach.
But there was a hitch. Along with the healthful benefits, there existed the dreadful possibility of immoral behaviour. The solution? Bathing machines, segregated beaches, and voluminous costumes made from wool or silk taffeta preserved the modesty of the sexes.
“Heartbreakers along the seashore’, 1898. Image from the Library of Congress, LC-USZ62-100442-1898.
Bathing costumes, 1910. Images from contentmentfarm.com
Two women in bathing costumes drying their hair, c.1925-1932. Image from the Library of Congress, LC-USZ62-106971.
Over the years, the bathing suit shrank – sleeves and bloomers becoming increasingly shorter – and by the 1920s with the popularity of all sporting pursuits, it was quite appropriate to wear sleeveless long tank tops belted over modesty shorts that stopped mid-thigh.
Today of course anything goes, and the only reason we might cover up is to prevent sunburn. But just think of the time and money (and pain!) we would have saved on all that depilatory paraphernalia!
Read a detailed history of Victorian bathing suits at Fashion 1900. For more fantastic images like this one below, look no further than Mack Sennett's Comedies Arcade Cards of the 1920s at Immortal Ephemera.
Fashion notes
I found my quaint navy ‘bathing’ dress in a charity shop, drawn to it by the quaint puff sleeves and skirts. It buttons down the front; is trimmed with white piping; and its brevity really does require modesty shorts. I first wore this dress on a beach weekend with friends in Ocean Grove, and preserved my feminine mystique by wearing black ‘pettishorts’.
The white shorts in the first image above are vintage 1950s, and were commonly worn by female tennis players, I was told by the elderly lady who sold them to me.
A beloved treasure of mine, the vintage paper parasol has been with me for years. It was in virtually pristine condition when I first bought it. It was I who accidentally – and lamentably – ripped a couple of holes in the paper. It is still, however, a perfect shade from the blasting Australian sun.