Herbert Schmalz

I first became aware of, and interested in, Herbert Schmalz when I saw the painting below, Rabboni, which can be seen along with a few more of his works in Bramhall Hall, Stockport. I thought it was rather Pre-Raphaelite but nicely different, so decided to research into the artist. My searches resulted in finding not a great amount of work, but work of exceptional talent and beauty.

Rabboni

Herbert Gustave Schmalz was born in Ryton, Tyne and Wear, in 1856; the son of a German father and English mother. He studied at the South Kensington Art School, then at the Royal Academy with Frank Dicksee, Arthur hacker and Stanhope Forbes. He was friends with William Holman Hunt, Frederic Leighton and Val Prinsep.
Schmalz's best known works at the time were historical in theme, with strong influences from the Pre-Raphaelites, an influence which he retained throughout his life. After a trip to Jeruselam, a fashionable trip of the time and probably inspired by Holman Hunt, he produced many Biblical themed paintings, such as Return From Calvary, below.

Return From Calvary 1891

During the 1890's Schmalz turned increasingly to painting portraits and works of classical themes. He had his own solo exhibition in 1900 entitled 'A Dream Of Fair Women', at the Fine Art Society on Bond Street. After the First World War Schmalz changed his name to John Wilson Carmichael. He died in London in 1935.

Denise 1883

Too Late c.1884-6

The Great Awakening

Iphigenia

The Daughter of Jairus

The Awakening of Galatea 

A Brief History of the Corset

 The corset has been an important piece of clothing for hundreds of years, and has gone through many changes.
Laced bodices have been used in many different fashions and countries throughout history, as can be seen in the national dress of many countries, but the use of the corset as a type of underwear only became popular in the 16th century.

The corset as an undergarment was used in Italy in the 16th century, and spread throughout Europe when Catherine de Medici introduced it into France. These corsets were conical in shape, and the emphasis was not placed on the waist, as in later years, but the contrast between the fullness of the skirts and breasts. By the 1550s this corset was popular and common with many women in Europe. Earlier, the corset was not boned, but the fabric stiffened with glue, but by this time a 'busk', a flat piece of whalebone or wood, was being incorporated into the front of the corset, to keep the garments stiffness. The look of the 16th century corset was on a flat stomach, the torso conical in shape and narrowing to below the hips - a 'stomacher' was used to achieve this look, as can be seen in the portrait of Queen Elizabeth I. By the Elizabethan era, whalebone was used to help keep the corset's shape. Despite its popularity, not everybody wore a corset; Mary, Queen of Scots, for example did not.

By the 18th century, the corset had stayed relatively the same; the inverted conical shape was still popular and its purpose was not yet to achieve a narrow waist - it was worn to support the breasts and back, and improve posture. Because the 18th century corset was not narrow at the waist, and did not extend to the hips, it was relatively comfortable to wear, and did not restrict breathing; this allowed women to wear a corset and still work, though bending at the waist was not possible because of the boned structure. This corset remained popular all through the Georgian era, but by the 1800s the corset had changed to suit new fashion.

From around 1795 to 1820 the fashion for both men and women had changed dramatically. Gone were the masses of skirts and bright colours of the Georgian eras; the 'age of undress' had arrived in the form of sheer muslin gowns and soft pastel colours. The waistline had risen to just below the bust - the classically inspired empire silhouette did not require a corset that fit tight on the waist, but a garment was still needed to support the bust. Looking back, the Regency stays could be considered an early version of the bra, but the corset worn often extended to the waist to give support.

Two variations of Regency corsets - the first usually being worn by younger women, and the second by older, to keep a good figure.

By the Victorian era, corsets had developed into the variety we know today, synonymous with the restricting Victorian society and fashion. With the fashion of the early and middle 19th century, when wide skirts and hourglass figures were popular, the corset could no longer create the illusion of a small waist; the waist would have to be narrowed using heavily boned corsets. This led to the creating of the typical hourglass corset, which we all recognise. Tight-lacing became popular in the 1840s and 50s, which often caused serious health problems. The Victorian corset differed in many ways to the ones of earlier centuries - there was no longer straps at the shoulders, and it extended to below the hips. Rather than being an inverted cone shape, the corset became purposefully curvaceous. Whereas before, most corsets were made by hand, the Victorian ere saw the mass production of corsets, which remained popular until the end of the century.

Only nearing the end of the century did the obsession with a tiny waist give rise to concerns in health.  The Rational Dress Society tried to promote the wearing of ' health corsets' and condemned tight-lacing. At the time corsets were believed to be the cause of health ailment such as hysteria or liver failure, but did actually seriously affect breathing, digestion and pregnancy. A maternity corset was introduced, to supposedly help support a woman during the whole of her pregnancy, when in fact the wearing of any sort of corset could have potential life threatening damage on both mother and child.

Despite the late 18th century opposition to corsets, the 1890s and Edwardian era saw the introduction of a new type of corset. The straight-front, or swan-bill, corset became very popular. Its name derived from the solid busk that flattened the front, which pushed the back and hips backwards and the breast forward, creating an s-shaped silhouette. It was also known as the 'health corset', but it was, in fact, considerably unhealthy. The way it pushed the figure behind put unnatural strain on the back, and often were the source of much back and spinal injury.

Two examples of corsets - the first an example of the Edwardian corset, note the position it forces upon the wearer. The second a beautiful example of an 1890 corset; although they were undergarments and not meant to be seen, most corsets were elaborately designed, in many fantastic colours. This had came about by the invention of different fabrics and artificial dyes.

 The first image is an x-ray from 1904, showing the effect corsets had on the internal organs and bone structure; the ribs are crushed and many organs are forced downwards. The second image is a late Victorian advertisement, which highlights the difference in posture the corset produces.

The corset remained a necerssary item to many womens wardrobe in the Edwardian era. It was only during the First World War that they began to decrease in popularity, becuase women were discouraged from purchasing corsets, for the steel used in the garments was wanted for the weapons production instead. other factors such as changing fashions and more equality for women led to the demise of the corset, until it has very much disappeared from society.

The Victorian Human Hair Market

Beautiful and elaborate hairstyles are often associated with the Victorian Era, but it is often overlooked how the ladies actually managed to achieve these fantastic creations. During the 19th century the hairstyles changed to compliment the ever-changing fashions of dress. With the 1870's came the bustle period, and consequently hairstyles became increasingly elaborate, with a preference for long tresses, masses of hair piled on the head, adorned with flowers, combs and ribbons.

A few examples of 1870's Hairstyles

With the invention of the curling tongs in 1866, it was now even easier for women to achieve the thick curls they desired for their hair. However, this new invention lead had many problems - frequent use of the curling tongs left ladies hair matted and burned; much the consistency of wool or felt, and rather smelly. To achieve the massive hairdos so desired, much false hair was needed. It was extremely common for Victorian women to keep the hair from their hairbrushes to use as padding, or 'rats' as they we called, for their hairstyles, but it was not desirable to have 'rats' showing through, nor was it a sufficient amount to create the tall  and elaborate hairstyles. 

A selection of Victorian photographs, to show the variety of hairstyles through the era.

Even by the 1880s, false hair was still very much in demand. Though false hair was no longer needed for much of the Victorian women's hairstyles of the period, it was still wanted to make fringes. Fringes, or bangs, became extremely popular in the late 1870s and early 80s, through Queen Alexandra, who was famous for her rather massive curly fringe. Because many women did not like to cut the front of their hair, and liked to keep it long, false fringes were often worn to fit in with the fashion. The false hair industry was subsequently huge in the Victorian western world, especially in Paris and London.  Here is an extract on the London human hair market from Victorian social journalist John Greenwood, from his 'In Strange Company' of 1874. It is a rather long extract but thoroughly enjoyable to read, for Greenwood, being the great journalist he is, writes with such fluency and description. 

IT was recently my privilege to inspect, and for just as long as I chose, linger over the enormous stock of the most extensive dealer in human hair in Europe. The firm in question has several warehouses, but this was the London warehouse, with cranes for lowering and hauling up heavy bales. I, however, was not fortunate in the selection of a time for my visit. The stock was running low, and a trifling consignment of seventeen hundredweight or so was at that moment lying at the docks till a waggon could be sent to fetch it away. But what remained of the impoverished stock was enough to inspire me with wonder and awe. On a sort of bench, four or five feet in width, and extending the whole length of the warehouse front, what looked like horse tails were heaped in scores and hundreds ; in the rear of this was another bench, similarly laden ; all round about were racks thickly festooned ; under the great bench were bales, some of them large almost as trusses of hay; and there was the warehouseman, with his sturdy bare arms, hauling out big handfuls of the tightly-packed tails, and roughly sorting them.

    I should imagine that a greater number of pretty lines have been written on women's hair than on anything else in creation. Lovers have lost their wits in its enchanting tangle; poets have soared on a single lovely tress higher than Mother Shipton ever mounted on her celebrated broom; but I question if the most delirious of the whole hair-brained fraternity could have grown rapturous, or even commonly sentimental, over one of these bales when, with his knife, the warehouseman ripped open the canvas and revealed what was within. Splendid specimens, every one of the tails. Eighteen or twenty inch lengths, soft and silky in texture, and many of rare shades of colour-chestnut, auburn, flaxen, golden - and each exactly as when the cruel shears had cropped it from the female head.

    It was this last-mentioned terribly palpable fact that spoilt the romance. Phew! One hears of the objectionable matters from which certain exquisite perfumes are distilled ; but they must be roses and lilies compared with this raw material out of which are manufactured the magnificent head-adornments that ladies delight in. As to its appearance, I will merely remark that it, gave one the "creeps" to contemplate it. Misinterpreting my emotion, the good-natured gentleman who accompanied me hastened to explain that the fair maidens of Southern Germany to whom these crowning glories had originally belonged did not part with the whole of their crop. "More often than not," said he, "they will agree to sell but a piece out of the centre of their back hair, and under any circumstances they will not permit the merchant's scissors to touch their front hair." Time was when I should have derived consolation from this bit of information; but now I could not avoid the reflection what a pity it was, for sanitary reasons, that they did not have their heads shaved outright. "Is it all in this condition when you first receive it?" I ventured to inquire. "As nearly as possible," was my friend's bland rejoinder.

    The lot under inspection, a little parcel of a couple of hundredweight, came from Germany. The human hair business has been brisker in that part of Europe than anywhere during the past few years, on account of its yielding a greater abundance of the fashionable colour, which is yellow. Prices have gone up amongst the "growers" in consequence. The average value of a "head" is about three shillings. As well as I can understand the matter, however, the traffic in human hair is based on pretty much the same business principles as those which find favour with the "old clo'" fraternity with which we arc familiar. With them articles of' china and glass are exchanged for an old coat or a brace of cast-off shoes - a pair of Brummagem earrings, a yard or two of flowered chintz, or a pair of shoe-buckles are offered for a cut out of the back hair of the German peasant maiden. The hair buyers - or "cutters," as they are technically called - are pedlars as well, and never pay for a shearing with ready cash when they can barter. These pedlars are not the exporters, however ; they are in the employ of the wholesale dealer, who entrusts them with money and goods, and allows them a commission on the harvest. I don't think that I was sorry to hear about the Brummagem earrings and the barter system. Since civilisation demands the hair off the heads of women, it is consolatory to find that they think no more of parting with it than with a few yards of lace they have been weaving. It comes from Italy as well as from Germany, and recently from Roumania. I was informed that an attempt has been made to open a trade with Japan but, though the Japanese damsels are not unwilling, at a price, to be shorn for the adornment of the white barbarian, the crop, although of admirable length, is found to be too much like horsehair for the delicate purposes to which human hair is applied.

   Brown hair, black hair, hair of the colour of rich Cheshire cheese, hair of every colour under the sun, was tumbled in heaps on the counters before me, including grey hair - notmuch of it, as much, perhaps, as might be stuffed into a hat-box; but there it was, the hair of grandmothers. Seeing it to be set aside from the rest, my impression was that it got there through one of those tricks of trade that every branch of commerce is subject to. That lot was stuffed into the middle of a bale, I thought, by some dishonest packer who, while aware how valueless it was, knew it would help to make weight.

    "You don't care much about that article I imagine," I remarked to my guide.

    "What! that grey hair-not care for it!" he returned, with a pitying smile at my ignorance. "I wish that we could get a great deal more of it, sir; it is one of the most valuable articles that comes into our hands. Elderly ladies will have chignons as well as the young ones; and a chignon must match the hair, whatever may be its colour." It was unreasonable, perhaps; but, for the first time in my life, as I gazed on the venerable pile, I felt ashamed of grey hair. It seemed so monstrously out of place.

    But I had yet to be introduced to the strangest branch of this very peculiar business. I had inspected packs, heaps, and bales of human tresses of every length, colour, and texture; but every hair of it had been shorn, living and vibrating, from the human head. Now, I was invited to look at a lot of "dead hair," in a bale which would make a Covent Garden porter of only average strength shake at the knees before he had gone a hu'ndred yards.

    "This is a very extraordinary kind of article," said my kind informant, as he ripped open the stout cloth covering; "this is the 'dead hair' you read of in newspapers and magazines."

    Involuntarily I edged a little further from the gash in the canvas. 

    "But is it really dead hair-hair, that is to say, that has been -"

    "Buried and dug up again," my friend blandly interrupted ; "not exactly, though that is the blundering popular impression. This, my good sir, is an article that is not cut from the head. It is torn out by the roots. It all comes from Italy."

    "Torn out by the roots! What! violently!"

    "Violently, my dear sir."

    I trust that my look of incredulity had nothing of rudeness in it. I had heard of hair being torn out of the human head by the roots - nay, in more than one frightfully desperate case I had seen as much as a big handful produced before a police magistrate to prove the murderous antipathy of Miss Sullivan for Mrs Malony; but what was that small quantity compared with as much as might be weighed against a sack of coals? Could it be possible that the ladies of Italy were so terribly quarrelsome that --; but, observing my perplexity, my friend hastened to explain.

    "Torn from the head with gentle violence. I should have said, and with weapons no more formidable than the brush and the comb. When I hold the head" - let the hair be living or dead, he called every separate hank of it a "head" - "to the light, you will see that every hair has its root attached, and all that you see here is only a small part of the bulk that finds its way every year to market. It is simply the hair that becomes detached from the heads of Italian women in the ordinary process of combing and brushing. As a married man, you may know what happens when a lady brushes her hair; she will pass a comb through the brush, give the detached waifs of hair a twist round her finger, and make a loop to it to keep it tidily together till it is thrown away. A like habit with Italian women is the mainspring of our English dead-hair supply. In the poor districts of Italy especially, the little twist of waste hair finds its way to the washing-basin, and so to the street gutter, out of which it is fished by the scavenger. From his hands it passes for the merest trifle into those of the knowing ones, who know how to disentangle the ugly little tufts, to arrange them as to length and colour, and send them to market as you here see them."

    As I saw them, they differed little from the thousands of other "heads" piled on all sides, except that they were somewhat shorter. Indeed, they were cleaner-looking; but, after what I had heard about them, it was difficult to contemplate them without a shudder. They were worth a third less as a marketable article than "live hair," I was informed; but the supply was abundant, and many hundredweights were used in the course of a year. Many hundredweights; and about two ounces will make a respectable chignon! It is a dreadfully unpleasant fact, ladies, but so it is. To be sure, the perfect machinery used in the preparation of human hair before it finds its way into the hands of the hairdresser ensure its absolute cleanliness ; but it is not nice to reflect that at the present time hundreds of your lovely sex are crowned with Italian peasant women's brush-combings, consigned first to the slop-basin and then to the street- kennel, to be rescued therefrom by the rake of the scavenger.

Street Life in London - Photography of John Thomson

When a child in primary school, I remember being decidedly disinterested in history lessons when we learnt about the Victorian era. It is maybe because all they decided to teach us was how horrible life was for children of that time - factory work, coal mines etc - probably to make us feel bad for living a nice life in modern day. Therefore, for a long time, the age of Queen Victoria's reign was my least favourite period of history, but now knowing about all the art and culture of the day I find social history wonderfully interesting!

John Thomson, self-portrait in China

So, finding the wondrous photography of John Thomson intrigued me greatly. The life of the Victorian London poor has been brought to life, through the beautiful and expressive medium of photography. John Thomson (1837-1921) was a Scottish born photographer, geographer and traveller, who traveled mainly in Far East Asia, documenting and photographing the culture, before returning to London to work on collaborative photography project with friend Adolphe Smith, a journalist. Their project was to document the street life of London - laying the foundations for photojournalism.
The accompianing descriptions for the photographs are written by Adolphe Smith.

Covent garden flower women

"How different is the Covent Garden of to-day, with its bustle and din, its wealth and pauperism, its artifices, its hot-house flowers and forced fruit, its camellias with wire stems, its exotics from far-off climes, to "the fair-spreading pastures," measuring, according to the old chronicle, some seven acres in extent, where the Abbots of Westminster buried those who died in their convent. In those days vegetables were not only sold here but grew on the spot; and the land, now so valuable, was considered to be worth an annual income of £6 6s. 8d., when given by the Crown to John Russell, Earl of Bedford, in 1552. […] When death takes one of the group away, a child has generally been reared to follow in her parents' footsteps; and the "beat" in front of the church is not merely the property of its present owners, it has been inherited from previous generations of flower-women. Now and then a stranger makes her appearance, probably during the most profitable season, but as a rule the same women may be seen standing on the spot from year's end to year's end, and the personages of the photograph are well known to nearly all who are connected with the market."

London nomads

"He honestly owned his restless love of a roving life, and his inability to settle in any fixed spot. He also held that the progress of education was one of the most dangerous symptoms of the times, and spoke in a tone of deep regret of the manner in which decent children were forced now-a-days to go to school. 'Edication, sir! Why what do I want with edication? Edication to them what has it makes them wusser. They knows tricks what don't b'long to the nat'ral gent. That's my 'pinion. They knows a sight too much, they do! No offence, sir. There's good gents and kind 'arted scholards, no doubt. But when a man is bad, and God knows most of us aint wery good, it makes him wuss. Any chaps of my acquaintance what knows how to write and count proper aint much to be trusted at a bargain.'

The Temperance Sweep

"He is now the happy father of a large family, he lives in a house near Lambeth Walk, where he once humbly worked in the capacity of a mere assistant. As a master sweep he has an extensive connexion. The money he earns enables him to subscribe to several benefit societies, and he is entitled to receive from them 10s. a week in sickness, while his wife will have £46 given her at his death, or he will receive £18 should she die first. Altogether he is both prosperous and respected throughout the neighbourhood, where he ardently advocates the cause of total abstinence, and is well known as the temperance sweep."

Street advertising

"There is a certain knack required in pasting a bill on a rough board, so that it shall spread out smoothly, and be easily read by every pedestrian; but the difficulty is increased fourfold when it is necessary to climb a high ladder, paste-can, bills, and brush in hand. The wind will probably blow the advertisement to pieces before it can be affixed to the wall, unless the bill-sticker is cool, prompt in his action, and steady of foot. Thus the "ladder-men," as they are called, earn much higher wages, and the advertising contractors are generally glad to give them regular employment. The salaries of these men vary from £1 to £1 15s. per week, and they work as a rule from seven in the morning to seven at night."

Street doctors

"The subject of the accompanying illustration is a vendor of cough lozenges and healing ointment. He was originally a car-driver employed by a firm in the city, but had to leave his situation on account of failing sight.”

More photographs from the series will be posted soon... hope you find these interesting for now!

Photograph Album Update

I have recently become the proud owner of a late Victorian photograph album (explanatory post here). Today I have found some photos to put in the album. Every Sunday after church, I go down to my local flea market in Tynemouth Station; it is full of vintage and handmade stalls, antiques, records and utter junk. Mostly junk. However, there are always some great finds - I was lucky enough to discover a box of old family photographs. Bought two carte de visites that I found interesting.

The first is of a young woman, probably local; for the studio was in Sunderland. I chose this one because I found her dress interesting. The belt with three buckles, the bells at the neck and down the skirt, the snake bracelet. A very nice outfit overall. What intrigued me most, though, was the whistle attached to the buttons. What could it be for? I do not know for sure but the costume looks to be mid/late 1880's early 90's maybe? It has quite a military feel to it, with the belt and whistle, but it is probably just fashion. I wonder who this woman was, what her occupation was? Her hands look as though she did some sort of labour (though she could just have big hands) and she does not look high class. It would be nice to find out more about this woman, for she seems rather interesting.

This second portrait I bought less for curiosity, but for that it is just a lovely portrait. This young woman too is local; the photographers is in Newcastle. I love her dress - looks like early 1890's. I like the that the fabric of the skirt matches the blouse. The collar, laced cuffs and bodice are beautiful additions and make this dress really lovely and unusual. I wonder if this photo was taken for the young woman's sweetheart, perhaps, or for family. I do wish it to be the former - I am such a romantic... sad, I know.

Very pleased with my photographs - they fit perfectly in the album and look about right for the period. Even though I love collecting old photographs, I cannot help feeling a little disrespectful for they are such personal things. It is sad to think that these people are dead and we know nothing of there lives save for what they looked like. Not even a name. I wonder what they would think knowing that their photographs were in a cardboard box in a flea market. I like to think that by buying these portraits I am keeping some sort of memory safe, whereas if not the photos would get mistreated and lost. Ah, maybe I am thinking too much into it now. I digress.
If anybody may have some information or I have got something wrong, like dates or costumes etc,  it would be lovely to know. Updates coming in the future when I find more photographs.
Best Wishes.

1890's Photograph Album

Oh, how I love charity shops! I have recently bought an old photograph album. Though it was mostly void of photos and has significant water damage, I still could not resist and bought it for £9 - a bargain I think! It is a lovely old thing - a really big and heavy book, leather with a nice clasp and everything. I have done some research and concluded that the album is from the 1890s. Very old indeed!

I was disappointed at first to see that the album was empty, but as I turned over the last page I found this photograph...

A mysterious man... how intriguing!

What a fine young gentleman! I wonder who he was, and why was his the only photo left? To try to answer that; the dampness had fused the photograph to the paper backing, but if he was that important surely somebody could have cut it out or something? And the water damage seems to be  a later addition to the album... I wonder who owned this book, what family did it belong to? Ah, so many questions which will never be answered! It is indeed a mystery!

I cannot bear to see this photo album empty, and the young gentleman on his own, so I have decided to find some old photographs, preferably ones from the later Victorian era. I will post any photos I manage to find.

Best Wishes

A Victorian Christmas

Seasons greetings! It is well into December and I am getting rather Christmassy - the decorations have been put up today and most of the presents have been wrapped. All this festivity got me thinking about what Christmas was like in the Victorian era...

At the beginning of the 19th century, Christmas was not widely celebrated, but by the end of Queen Victoria's reign it had become more like the holiday we are so fond of today. The royal family itself are the ones we have most to thank for the introduction of Christmas to Britain. In 1848 (the same year of the formation of our beloved PRB) the Illustrated London News published a drawing of the royal family around a Christmas tree, which Prince Albert had introduced from Germany. Soon nearly every home contained a decorated tree, complete with ribbons, candles, sweets and homemade decorations. Apparently Victoria and Albert decorated their tree themselves, and the children hung gingerbread on the branches - what a lovely idea! Wish I had thought of putting gingerbread on my tree before I swamped it with baubles...

 What an evenly decorated tree! though with that many candles it looks to be somewhat of a fire hazard...

In 1843 a design for a Christmas card was commissioned by Henry Cole. There were 1,000 copies and each had to be hand coloured. The card sold for one shilling each - this was more than the average person could pay. However, with the advancement in printing technology, the Christmas card became extremely popular - in 1880 alone 1.5 million cards were produced. 

Another commercial aspect to Christmas was invented, again, in 1848 when British confectioner, Tom Smith, came up with a novel and festive way to sell sweets. Inspired by a trip to Paris where he saw sugared almonds sold in twists of paper, he invented the first Christmas crackers. these were at first filled with sweets, then later in the century the contents were changed to paper hats, small gifts and bad jokes.

Ice skating, a popular Victorian past time. That gentleman looks like a very good ice skater! He also looks rather like the other man in the background, and the others too - did the painter run out of models, perhaps?

Camille Pissarro 1879

Claude Monet 1880

While searching for Victorian winter paintings, I came across these two beautiful landscapes by Pissarro and Monet. I was interested to see that both works were painted in the same winter; looking it up I discovered that the winter of 1879-80 was particularly harsh, apparently the seventh worst on record. France was bitterly cold - a temperature of -25.6C was recorded in Paris and the Seine was frozen over. Only by February 1880 did the cold finally fade away, almost two years later, for the cold weather started in '78. 
I love the different shades of blue in Pissarro's painting, really shows the frozen ground and air - makes me shiver even to look at it! The pastel colours of Monet's painting are beautiful, which contrast between the bright orange of the setting sun and its reflection, and the dark shadowy skeletons of trees. I always love finding new paintings - its so interesting not just to study the paintings themselves, but also look into the history around when they were produced. There are so many amazing things in the past. Oh, the beauty of art history!

Merry Christmas!

A Victorian Movember

 Movember is here - I am enjoying seeing so many moustaches! I like Movember this year; I had not really heard about it last November, but this year it seems to be much more publicised. I am very glad - anything that raises money for charity and awareness for men's health is a good thing. And what better way than getting men to grow a moustache! A grand idea I do think. Here is a short selection of my favorite moustaches from the Victorian era.

Ah! The delights of Victorian advertising!

This rather disgruntled gentleman seems to have let his moustache grow a bit wild... maybe he could have done with some of Carter's Thrixaline.

What has happened to this man's handlebar moustache? - it was going so well, the photographer should have discreetly pointed out the imperfection in his facial hair before taking the photo... or did it droop during a long exposure?

The amazing Dante Gabriel Rossetti sported a fine moustache indeed! What style this man had.

Ah, the legend that is Edgar Allan Poe! His moustache seems to be rather lopsided... I suppose he can be excused by writing such great stories. 

Look at this fine gentleman! It made my day to see this handsome and proud owner of delightful facial hair.

I commend the gentlemen who have decided to grow a moustache for this year's Movember. Well Done to you! If you would like to find out more or maybe donate to this good cause have a look at the website:  http://uk.movember.com/ If you wish to see more fine exaples of Victorian Moustaches then have a look at this delightful and witty blog:  http://mustachesofthenineteenthcentury.blogspot.co.uk/
May you have a happy Movember!