Stays and other Secrets of perfect Posture

People in eighteenth-century portraits hold their bodies as if they were dancers.  Even a squirmy toddler tenuously balanced on his mother’s knee has beautiful posture. Were those gracefully lifted torsos just an improvement of the painter, trying to please clients? Or should the subjects’ stays, the quilted corsets stiffened with whalebone that laced tight up the back, take some of the credit?

Stays weren’t just for for grown women.  Babies were put in unconstructed ones made of coarse fabric very young.  Providing support for their weak little spines may have been less important than accustoming them to wearing a garment that would become increasingly confining as they grew.  Little girls soon graduated to smaller versions of the form-molding garments and  were expected to wear them practically all the time because being laced up was supposed to convey a sense of modesty.  At least that was the advice of male authors of well-known guides to female behavior.  Because the stays held up the rib cage, the wearer’s ability to change the position of the torso was quite difficult.  In this illustration of a girl reading, she is so engrossed in a book that she forgets to maintain a good seated posture.  But she isn’t slumping.  Her torso is tilted over her lap and her shoulders are rounded, but her back looks straight, because the abdominal muscles cannot sag or collapse.  Wearing stays was only one aspect of a demanding “curriculum”  to manage the body.  This aspect of eighteenth-century education, which combined best medical practice, contemporary notions of beauty, and social aspiration to participate in fashionable society, finds expression in a book famous in the history of medicine, Nicolas Andry de Bois-Regard’s Orthopedia or the Art of Correcting and Preventing Deformities in Children  (1741).  d’Andry, who was the dean of the faculty of medicine in Paris, argued that a normal healthy body can develops deformities when its natural symmetry is compromised by civilized life.  (The previous illustration and all that follow are from Cotsen’s copy of the first edition of the English translation of 1744).

He pointed out things that sparked the process of bodily deterioration in infancy.   An ignorant nurse might lift a toddler up by the leading strings attached to the shoulders of its bodice, which allowed its heavy head to sag, strain the neck, and pull the shoulders out of alignment.  Children’s bodies could incur permanent damage when carelessly handled by adults playing infant amusements with them.  One of the most dangerous was one  called “going to visit grandfather”  in which the adult would  lift the child by its neck and swung it around, putting the spine at risk of dislocation.Furniture could be responsible for deforming children’s bodies.  The school boy below is writing on a surface that is too low, so he hunches over his work.  The other boy to his right is eating at a table that is too high, so he scrunches up his shoulders.When d’Andry talks about deformations of girls’ bodies, it is more difficult to determine i the relative importance of legitimate medical concerns, contemporary standards of beauty, and fashion, which strives to display the female body’s perfections.  The chest is the most beautiful part of the body, according to d’Andry, so he placed considerable emphasis on the proper training  of the thorax, or middle back, the arms, and clavicles.  One reason for this was to keep the chest open and promote healthy lung breathing.  He recommends various manipulations and exercises, including walking with a little box balanced on the top of the head.When the desired results could not be obtained through exercise, d’Andry did not hesitate to recommend that parents require their daughters to wear the contraption below in addition to stays.Was d’Andry aware that his program of physical discipline dovetailed with the dictates of fashion, where the bodice was the focal point of a dress because of the way it set off a girl’s head, shoulders and breast?  Possibly not, because the idea of posture in the Western world has never made clear and distinct demarcations between health and beauty with respect to the body.

Managing Stuff: Getting Children to Organize Their Things ca. 1830

Early Impressions; or Moral and Instructive Entertainment for Children, Illustrated by Richard Dighton. London: Hatchard and Son, 1828. (Cotsen 34073)

Here’s how the room pictured above got into such a shocking state:

When little Benjamin returned from school, he always threw his books around the room; though he had a book-case to put them in.  They became dirty and damaged.  The binding of many of them was torn.  When he read a book he left it in the place where he had been reading it.  So one lay on the stairs, another in the parlour, and a third in the garden.

When he dressed himself in the evening, he laid his boots on the table.  He threw his clothes about the room.  Sometimes his hat lay upon the bed in which he slept.

He slept very long in the mornings.  He frequently rose from bed when the other children were at school.  Then he dressed himself in haste.  It was some time before he could recover all his things.

This woeful description concludes with the author’s trenchant judgment, “It was not pretty of Benjamin to let his things be scattered about so that they must be torn and spoiled.”

How would an adult in 1828 try to motivate the little recidivist to change his ways? Well, by lecturing the class at school.  Little Benjamin’s master makes a terse case for tidiness: one’s clothes and books cost enough money that they cannot be replaced every day, so they must be cared for properly.  That means having a place for everything and always putting it in its place.  Being orderly saves not just money, but  time, which is even more important.   Time isn’t wasted retrieving things kicked under the bed, draped on the furniture, dropped on the floor, or left on the table. And when a great deal of time that was wasted is now saved, it will elevate your mood.

Instead of poo-pooing his teacher, little Benjamin decides to conduct an experiment and test the truth value of the lecture.  A trial quickly convinces him that it is better to be orderly than messy.

How different is this approach from that of a modern-day psychologist advising parents on how to get children to do violence to themselves and clear away the scenes of chaotic clutter which are their bedrooms?  Today’s experts would insist on leading by example and on working side by side with the child until has internalized the routine.  But one bit of advice has not changed a whit–if anything it is now couched in even stronger terms of utility.  In her post “Tips for Getting Kids to Clean Their Rooms, Marie Hartwell-Walker offers this one-two-punch:

Those who are the most professionally successful tend to be those who know how to manage people, money, and stuff. Teaching our kids how to tidy up regularly, calmly, and eventually without prompting, contributes to mastery of one of these important three skill areas. Teach your kids how to organize today and you may be ensuring career success tomorrow.

Maybe.  But a shovel and a pile of trash bags will come in handy until the pitch sinks in…