Victorian corsets: dangerous or misunderstood?
The corset is far from a simple undergarment – it’s sparked controversy due to its association with female oppression and, later, disbelief in modern audiences of period dramas. But what’s the real story of the corset? Lauren Good unlaces the history…
What comes to mind when considering the corset’s history? Perhaps images of women gasping for breath as their waists are cinched to near-impossible dimensions, or even fainting from the constriction of their lungs.
Netflix sensation Bridgerton even faced health and safety complaints from its cast after they chose to use corsets as part of their costume design. Simone Ashley, who played Kate Sharma in season two, told Glamour UK: “I had this massive portion of salmon and that’s when I needed to be sick, basically because I was wearing the corset. I realised when you wear the corset, you just don’t eat. It changes your body.”
But did corsets truly impose such hardships on women in the past? The answer is not as straightforward as it seems. While ill-fitting or tightly laced corsets had the potential to pose problems, research reveals that they weren’t as dangerous as believed. Let’s uncover the real history…
Who invented the corset?
The corset we’re most familiar with today is often credited as the invention of British writer and inventor Roxey Ann Caplin. Her innovative designs earned her a medal at the Great Exhibition in 1851, and her influence still resonates in modern corsetry.
Though, the earliest image we have of a corset comes from as far back as around 1000 BC – a figurine of the Minoan snake goddess is depicted as wearing a garment that can be likened to one. A small waist was desirable amongst the Minoans, who lived on the island of Crete, so they wore undergarments to achieve this look.
Was it just women who wore corsets?
Contrary to popular belief, men wearing corsets wasn’t an uncommon practice.
Dandyism, a trend in the late 18th and early 19th century, encouraged refined tailoring to create a slender figure. To accentuate this, men wore corsets or stays (another type of supportive undergarment). Padding was then used to enhance other parts of the body, such as the chest and shoulders.
King George IV employed corsetry, reducing his waist from 55 to 50 inches for his 1821 coronation.
Men didn’t just use corsets for aesthetic purposes; they were also worn in the military for support during strenuous exercise.
Were corsets only used by the upper classes?
It's often assumed that corsets were only used by the upper classes, but this might not be true.
As historian Dr Leigh Summers explains in an article for Edinburgh University Press: “Working-class women who could not afford even the cheapest of professionally manufactured corsets did not necessarily have to go without them. They could make their own. The plethora of dress-making and millinery texts published in the 1830s and 1840s, which provided detailed advice on how to make stays, can be seen to indicate the importance the garment held for working-class women.”
Were Victorian corsets made of whalebone?
While many traditional corsets were supported by boning, the term ‘whalebone’ is somewhat misleading. The boning material was actually baleen – the series of fringed plates in whales’ mouths that replaces teeth, and strains seawater for food.
Baleen was prepared for commercial use by forming it into one continuous length, which was then cut to size for corset production. It was also used in various other applications, including parasols and bristles for chimney sweeps’ brushes.
How dangerous were Victorian corsets?
Tightly laced corsets did have the potential to be harmful. They reduced lung capacity, caused constipation, and – with regular use – could lead to muscle atrophy in the back. Physicians in the 18th and 19th centuries also attributed corsets to more severe issues, such as cancer and heart damage, although these claims have since been debunked by modern medical observations.
Most issues arose when corsets were laced too tightly, which wasn’t always the norm. While women might have tightened their corsets for special occasions such as balls, they also had to live comfortably in them, as a modern woman would a bra. The concept of women not being able to eat or move in their corsets, for fear of being unwell, cannot have been universal.
In 2015, anthropologist Dr Rebecca Gibson researched the effects of corsets, examining 24 skeletons from 1700–1900. She found that their use was not without suffering, with each skeleton in the study having a deformed ribcage and misaligned spine.
Despite these physical changes, the women she examined often exceeded their given life expectancy at birth: “While nothing can be said about the quality of life of these particular women, these results confound the very popular notion that corseting was inherently overtly harmful […] as well as the longstanding medical belief that corseting was responsible for early death.”
How small were corseted waists?
A lyric from the musical Six – a dramatisation of the lives of Henry VIII’s wives – asserts that “No one wants a waist over nine inches!” This is – of course – an exaggeration. But what dimensions were aspirational in the past?
Dr Gibson’s research found that the average 18th and 19th-century waist size, after corseting, was 22 inches. Considering the natural average for Victorian women’s waists was around 20–28 inches, corsets usually reduced waist sizes by approximately six inches at most.
And yet photos of women’s waists in the past show astonishingly small proportions. How was this possible? Well, it’s all about perception. Women wouldn’t just have been corseted – they would also have a bustle (a padded undergarment worn at the back to add fullness) along with other padding to make the hips and shoulders look bigger, and therefore make the waist appear smaller.
Did corsets provide oppression or empowerment?
During the Women’s Rights movement, which began c1848, women discarded petticoats and crinolines in favour of lighter clothing that was easier to move in. One comfortable alternative was the chemiloon – or union suit. Patented in 1868, this one-piece garment reached the ankles, therefore removing the need for stockings. Later designs – which included buttons at the waist from which skirts could be suspended – meant that there was no need for a petticoat either.
The positioning of the corset as a symbol of oppression is often made in the modern day. Art historian David Kunzle suggests in his 1982 book Fashion and Fetishism that they are “one of the quintessential Victorian social horrors,” and also argues that corsetry was “as morally and hygienically on a par with the forcing of small boys into narrow chimneys”.
Interestingly, some 19th-century women didn’t necessarily share Kunzle’s view. In the later Victorian period, when tight lacing was linked to moral indecency by priests and journalists, some women deliberately tightened their corsets in defiance.
Re-evaluating the corset’s past
It’s clearly important to recognise the corset’s history beyond the popular image of women doubled over while maids cinch their waists even smaller. However, we mustn’t forget that the use of these garments did cause physical effects on the bodies of many women, likely affecting enjoyment of their daily life and changing the way they moved through the world.
Corsetry also sits alongside several other dangerous fashion trends forced upon Victorian women, from applying lead to the face to adjust their pallor, to the use of arsenic in fabric dye. Even crinoline (a fabric used to make dresses) sometimes proved deadly. A highly flammable fabric, it is thought to have contributed to an estimated 3,000 deaths between the late 1850s and late 1860s.
So, how might we approach the corset’s history? This is a story that requires a more nuanced perspective, revealing a complex interplay of fashion, societal norms, and women’s rights – perhaps not the conclusion that period dramas like Bridgerton would always have us believe.
Enjoyed this article? Members can read Mary Girerd's piece: A bodice-ripping revolution: how Victorian women cast off deadly fashion trends
Authors
Lauren Good is the digital content producer at HistoryExtra. She joined the team in 2022 after completing an MA in Creative Writing, and she holds a first-class degree in English and Classical Studies.
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