Monsieur Fauteil! Your arm is in the way of
my pannier!
In his
book “French Furniture Under Louix
XIV,” Roger de Félice provided several illustrations of the shift from the
earlier fauteuil, an open sided armchair, with its combined front leg and arm
support to the separation of the front leg from the arm support to accommodate
the pannier. He observed:
“ ‘These panniers are a frame of Whalebone, or sometimes of
wicker, covered with linen and put by women under their skirt, and by men in
their coat-skirts, to keep them stiff and standing out. The machine is considerably developed at each
side of the wearer, bat (sic) very little at front and back, so that a lady
from her slender waist and huge panniers looks like a washerwoman’s paddle.’ The poor woman bundled up with this were
never able to find room in an arm-chair; so they were perforce reduced to
chairs, as their great-great-grandmothers had been by their farthingales. A gallant upholsterer in an ingenious turn
devised the remedy; he set back the consoles of the arms, and the panniers
could spread themselves at their own sweet will in front of the chairs.”
(Roger de
Félice,"French Furniture Under Louis
XIV," Heinemann, London 1922. P.
135)
Thirty
years later Pierre Verlet wrote, again making note of the key relationship
between costume and specially designed furniture:
“The shapes [of the chairs, furniture in general] remained heavy, ample, and monumental. They did lose some of their austerity,
however, thanks to the rapid development of subtle undulations: the pediments
of wardrobes began to curve, the legs of chairs and tables ended in goat's feet
or sometimes volutes, the line of chair backs undulated more or less in an
embrace, while seats took on a slight barrel curve. Women's fashions alone would have forced menuisiers to revise their formulas,
even if they hadn't wanted to: the fullness of the hooped skirts that came into
fashion in 1718 obliged menuisiers to
alter the location of the arms of their chairs, setting them back from the two
front legs. X stretchers between the
legs tended to disappear, giving chairs a less constrained, lighter appearance
from about 1720—30.“ (Pierre Verlet, (Penelope Hunter-Stiebel Trans.), “French furniture of the Eighteenth Century,” University Press of Virginia, Charlottesville, 1991. p. 35)
Paniers à charnières, France,
vers 1775-1780. © Les Arts Décoratifs /
photo : Jean
Tholance
Furniture
builders adapted the armchair form to accommodate panniers, usually described
as a woman’s undergarment constructed of
wire or cane that widens the hips.
However, Felice also indicates pannier’s
for men. While he does not name his source directly, he does acknowledge
several sources in the beginning of his book. Thirty years later, Verlet notes
the shift in arm placement, but only refers to women’s hooped skirts, or panniers, as the reason. So why does Felice reference male
panniers? Did such an undergarment exist
for men, or does pannier in this instance refer to the result, but not the
mode?
London 1711
According to a reader of Addison and Steele’s Spectator, there are wires in the coat skirts of
fashionable London men of 1711. (The
underlined section does not appear in the original, but is here for ease and
emphasis.)
“Mr. SPECTATOR,
I and
several others of your Female Readers, have conformed our selves to your Rules,
even to our very Dress. There is not one of us but has reduced our outward
Petticoat to its ancient Sizable Circumference, tho' indeed we retain still a
Quilted one underneath, which makes us not altogether unconformable to the
Fashion; but 'tis on Condition, Mr. SPECTATOR extends not his Censure so
far. But we find you Men secretly
approve our Practice, by imitating our Pyramidical Form. The Skirt of your
fashionable Coats forms as large a Circumference as our
Petticoats;
as these are set out with Whalebone, so are those with Wire, to encrease and
sustain the Bunch of Fold that hangs down on each Side; and the Hat, I perceive, is
decreased in just proportion to our Head−dresses. We make a regular
Figure, but I defy your Mathematicks to give Name to the Form you appear in.
Your Architecture is mere Gothick, and betrays a worse Genius than ours;
therefore if you are partial to your own Sex, I shall be less than I am now
Your
Humble Servant.
T.”
--The Spectator, No, 145 August 16, 1711. Steele
Panniers, 1760, British, tan linen & baleen
From the Metropolitan Museum of Art
Paris 1720
In or around 1720, Jacques Rigaud (1680-1754) left
Marseilles and traveled to Paris, where he created a series of engravings of
the city’s environs. Based on this success he then created a
series of engravings of the royal palaces of France and in 1730 he was invited
to England to create a series of engravings there. These series of engravings display a cross
section of dress within and across the social milieu during this period.
Vue de la Bastille de Paris, de la Porte St. Antoine d’une partie du Fauxbourg by Jacques Rigaud
(Author’s collection)
Rigaud’s ‘Vue de la Bastille de Paris,
de la Porte St. Antoine d’une partie du Fauxbourg’ of 1720 shows the St. Antoine gatehouse, one of the
entrances to Paris, which was located next to the Bastille. (http://classes.bnf.fr/livre/grand/627.htm) While there are a number of men in coats, two
figures in the lower right of the engraving are of particular note. Seated with their backs to the viewer their
coats display an odd shelf, which seems to resemble a posterior pannier. It appears that some type of form holds the
backs of the coat skirts in a rigid manner.
How is this form maintaining its shape under the weight of the fabric
and the positioning of the bodies? Is
this the pannier that Roger de Félice references? It may be contrived, but it seems an odd
affectation in an otherwise mundane view of travel and commerce. The images above and below are from the engraving.
To date, any examples that I have found of early 18th
century male coats note an inner layer of buckram or horsehair, but no other
forms of manipulation. This engraving
seems to indicate that more yjan starched lining is being used to create a
panniered appearance. So where have all
the wires and whalebone gone?
The history of the male pannier has been considerably
shrouded, perhaps in part because so few examples remain extant - coats were
costly, constantly updated to the current styles, wires removed and stiffners relaxed. As I have discovered,
the fullest accounts appear in relation to furniture adaptations or in
prints. It appears that this form of male attire occurred primarily in
the first half of the eighteenth century, paralleling that of women's
fashions.
Jeff Hopper writes about historic men's garments for Silk Damask.
This is excerpted from a forthcoming article.
