Gentlemen’s clothing underwent a radical change during the early years of the 19th century. The long war with France which began in 1792 had isolated Britain from the Parisian aristocratic trend-setters who had dominated the 18th century, along with their preference for brightly coloured silks and satins.
George Brummell has a new vision of male style, based on the finest of British tailoring, Brummell drew his inspiration from the military, from the clothes worn by English horsemen and country gentlemen and, above all, from a classical standard of masculinity as seen in the ancient Greek and Roman statuary, most notably the Apollo Belvedere.
And this ideal (as seen in the muted colouring of said statuary) of “unity, simplicity and a continuously flowing movement from one part of the body to the next” was at the core of Regency menswear.
The body beneath must needs be moulded into a figure worthy of the clothes–hence there’s a new emphasis on daily exercise as taken by gentlemen; the essentials of this new neo-classical look were breeches or pantaloons for the day, made either of doeskin or chamois leather or a soft stocking-like fabric. (If made of soft leather, often the wearer first wore them dampened, allowing them to dry to his physique so that they more closely resembled a second skin–they weren’t called bum-clingers for nothing.)
Both had corset lacing at the back, a fall front fastened by side buttons over the stomach, and were held up with braces to maintain the severe and fitted line over the thigh
They were also cut wider on one side at the top of the thigh, and higher on the other, to accommodate the family jewels, in a custom known as dressing to one side. Beneath the knee, button fastenings kept the fabric taut down the length of the leg.
-Evening breeches or pantaloons were made of sheer black silk jersey, knitted cashmere or a stretchy silk-stockinette imported from India, (Insect pict-Pierre Seriziat 1795)
-For summer, the breeches would be cut the same, but made of stout pale or white linen or nankeen, a heavy twilled cotton.
*Just as important was a gentleman’s fitted waistcoat, which would have been made of white or skin-toned fabric–the idea being that if a gentleman were to remove his coat, in his shirtsleeves and from a distance, he would resemble nothing so much as a naked Greek god, muscular, beautiful, carved from marble or stone.
Pict- Set consists of jacket, waistcoat and breeches carved celadon green velvet. It is decorated with a meandering embroidery silks, sequins, powders and glasses that draw floral motifs. At the start of each loop is a floral motif with a white glass.
Neoclassicism 1770-1780 (ca)
Beneath it all, the shirt of white linen, plain and lightly starched, with collars “so large that, before being folded down, it completely hid [the] head and face…” with tiny buttons at the neck and cuffs. Cuffs were worn long–a good inch or two longer than the coat sleeve to emphasise the fact that the gentleman did not work.
Footwear? Highly polished Hessian boots with spurs by day and thinly-soled black pumps for evening.
Stockings? Depending on the season and the hour, he might wear fine knitted wool stockings or silk stockings, plain or clocked–his preference.
Underwear? Very little was worn and then only rarely–it being pretty much a thing of the 18th century, although it was still in use (in cold weather, for example) and referred to as ‘summer trousers’. In this look of self-aware but careless, casual, sensual arrogance, there was no room for lumpy knickers or rucked up shirt tails.
Hats? High-crowned bevors from Lock’s, the Hatters, on St. James’s Street.
Moreover, a gentleman would have dressed some three or four times during the course of a normal day
Like Brummell, other gentlemen of his class and station bathed every part of his body every day, and in hot water. Brummell himself used no perfumes (they were considered very 18th century) but smelled instead of very fine linen and country washing–which he said were the mark of a gentleman;
So that’s a little of what himself is famous for.
I think we owe him a thanks for the introduction of daily bathing!
Thanks to Jane Austen
