Friday, February 3, 2012

Sleeve me alone.

 Sometimes, even in the best of families, these things happen.

Girl with a Squirrel and the People Who Love Her. 

No really... zoom in. It's a squirrel. That was apparently a posh thing to do in some circles. More disturbing is the fact that they are apparently huddled in a dark alley and Mr. Wiley seems to be reaching for his shiv. The Wiley Family, 1771. Smithsonian Collection.

No, not squirrels.

Not this time...

Just a Friday-quality (read: unimaginative and generally worthless) picture post of some kick-ass 18th century people doing the artsy, irreverent thing with their sleeves. I love the sleeves on the two younger girls at the top! What on earth would you call that? Cascading Pagoda Ruffles of Doom? Tiers for Fears? They are pretty outstanding. A nice variation on the usual theme.

Below, we have something a bit more allegorical:

Isaac Winslow and Family, 1755. MFA.

I'm referring to the girl at the far right. Those look an awful lot like chemise a la reine sleeves... in 1755. (Granted, this painting does have some elements of the literal and figurative mixed around in it.)

Still, it's neat to find little pockets of escapist dress design in any period. Speaking of escapism, it's time to trudge back to Jehossee. 



  1. I love how so many family paintings have the women in ~antique~ dress and the men in normal clothing. I wonder what the deal with that was.

    1. I know, right?! It's like hubby and the little heir showed up for the family portrait and interrupted Mumsy and daughter running through their lines for the Spring theatrical.

  2. Rofl. If this post is "unimaginative and generally worthless," let's have more. I have to say, it looks like Mr. Winslow is pointing at the Mrs' sleeve as if to say "What the eff is that. I paid 20 shillings for this damn dress and my coachman could have draped the sleeve better."

    1. "Your coachman DID drape it, dear. He said you sent him to make sure all of my gowns fit properly."