Ideals of Beauty

Manawatu Times, Volume 63, Issue 49, 28 February 1938, Page 11

Ideals of Beauty

TIMES HAVE CHANGED. You can safely take your husband to the Seventeenth Century Exhibition of Art at Burlington House,* especially if he is interested in pictures, wrote Hilda Marchant in the Daily Express recently. Certainly there is nothing to feat from the beauties in the frames. More than a dozen of the pictures are insured for £100»000 and over. As paintings they are invaluable; as portraits of female society and beauty they are a singularly dull waxy set of dressmaker ’s models. Glamour has changed in three centuries. Actresses of the period broke men’s hearts with a coiffure like a pile of dead seaweed, a figure corseted like an hour glass, a sprig of mint in their curls, and a handsome of double chins. The shape of women’s faces has changed. In 1600 they were as oval and pale as a bladder of lard; eyeß tiny and bright without eyelashes or eyebrows; hair drawn back to a peak, and low brow framed with a halo of crab claws. There is Lady Margaret Hay, Countess of Roxburghe, painted by Soest. She is a squat, plump little woman, clutching a lute as if it were a hockey stick. On her brow is a row of curls as still as meat hooks; and she was proud of her rose-pink nose, for the artist did not bother to tone it down. Scantily Draped. An easy twelve stone is the ideal weight, and the scantily draped sirens tempting the Duke of Buckingham have three, plump tucks around the waist. Top of sex appeal standards must have come in an artist’s impression of Delilah. In Gallery 111. is Van Dyck’s conception of the historical vamp luring Samson beyond his better judgment. She is as ample as a Dutch housewife, settled in a cocoon of twenty yards of blue satin. Her hair looks as if it had come straight from the hair-dryer, not a curl out of place, and she wags a plump forefinger ih a “ Naught, naughty” gesture to Samson, prostrate at her feet. Ladies of the period liked thick necks. They balanced their chins on three layers of stiff white laundry or propped them up with a steel necklace. They were homely women and liked to bring their eight children into the picture. Spent Wives’ Dowry. Perhaps I was prejudiced, but it seemed men were the real beauties of the period. They wore more jewellery, were upholstered in silk velvetand laoe, and spent their wives’ dowry on a wardrobe. Perhaps it was by contrast, or perhaps it was the painter, but the men who seemed to have most appeal were the dark, shadowy noblemen, peering over the folds of a black cape, painted by Velasquez. The long hair, pointed beard, grey faces and alert black eyes attracted me most. Gloaks were the most romantic garments men ever wore, and even if those curled moustaches do make them look the villains of the piece, they were certainly successful. It was a reversal of the present order —men were the vamps.