Dress-Reform (Woolson)/Lecture 2

LECTURE II.

BY CAROLINE E. HASTINGS, M.D.

Ladies,—I come before you this afternoon to speak upon the subject of dress-reform. It is a subject which is engaging the attention of many at the present time; and its agitators, feeling encouraged with here and there a convert, have conceived the idea of presenting it before different audiences, hoping to rouse the commonsense of women to come to the rescue, and to aid them in overthrowing the tyranny of the despotic and ever-changing goddess, Fashion.

To me the service which this ruler demands of her subjects is simply appalling; and nothing, I think, could make me more miserable, mentally or physically, than to be obliged to adopt the costume of a fashionably dressed woman. On the other hand, I suppose nothing would make one of Fashion's devotees more miserable mentally—mind, I do not say physically, in this case—than to be obliged to dress as simply as do some of the dress-reformers.

I shall endeavor to demonstrate to the eye that the present style of woman's dress does interfere with her best health; and I hope the reasons for my statements will seem to you so conclusive that some, at least, may be won from the error of their ways. To this end, I ask your attention to certain facts concerning the construction of the human body. And, before going any farther, let me say that there are probably, in this audience, many who have attended excellent lectures upon that and kindred subjects, and who are therefore well acquainted with both anatomy and hygiene. To such, a great deal of what I shall say will be as familiar as household words. But is not this true of any reform? Who can reveal any thing new upon the subject of Temperance? And yet the discussion on that theme holds the attention of the public mind, however often it may be repeated. We have but one story to tell; and what we mean to do is to tell this story over and over, till women shall listen and heed the warning.

In a printed report of the lecture given last Wednesday, it was stated that "the treatment of the subject thus far had been more an elab oration of the injurious effects of the present styles of dress than of what dress-reform should be." I do not understand the object of these lectures to be to propose a certain style of attire to be adopted as a uniform; but rather to arouse the minds of women to the fact that the present styles of dress are injurious, and to tell them wherein and how these styles act injuriously, leaving each woman to adopt for herself any external costume or style that she may prefer.

We only insist that the attire shall be so constructed as to hang from the shoulders; that it shall be of sufficient waist-measure to allow a continual full expansion of the chest, and of a length that shall prevent the dress from doing the work of the scavenger. I say we aim first to convince women that there is need of a reform in dress; and we believe that, when they are once thoroughly convinced of this, they will bring about a style suited to the wants and the comfort of the body,—perhaps by carrying out an idea suggested in the first lecture of this course, viz., that "at every National, State, and County Exposition, we ought to have a dress department, where the best material may be shown, and where styles, from a hygienic, æsthetic, and economic point of view, may be discussed." The demand itself will furnish the means, and show us the way. Our duty is to create the demand.

First, then, we will consider the bony framework of the body; and I am fortunate in being able to show you a specimen this afternoon. Some of the bones enclose cavities,—as, for instance, the ribs, which enclose the thoracic cavity; and again the hip-bones, as they are familiarly called, which, with the lower part of the spine, form a cavity known as the pelvic cavity. Between these two cavities lies another, which has no bony walls, only walls of flesh.

The thoracic cavity, as I have said, is formed by the ribs, twenty-four in number, twelve on each side, with the breast-bone in front, and the spinal column behind. To the spine the ribs are joined by strong ligaments; but they are finished out and attached to the breast-bone by means of cartilage, with the exception of the two lower, which are attached only to the spine. As these are not attached to the breast-bone, they are called floating ribs. The cartilaginous attachments permit the cavity thus enclosed to be expanded to a great extent, provided their elasticity is not interfered with by some contrivance supposed to be an improvement upon the original plan. When these cartilages become ossified, as they sometimes do, from disease or old age, the ribs are fixed in position, and the chest can no longer dilate. This is not considered an advantage, but a misfortune. The same result, if it follows the wearing of a garment, occasions no concern; but I can see little difference between the two evils. I believe that any lady, young or old, must experience serious

Bony Framework of the Body.

injury when she interferes with one of Nature's wise designs by compressing these twenty-four ribs to such an extent that the cartilages in which they terminate cannot act. What difference does it make whether these ribs expand or not, you may ask. The difference between ease and disease. The form of the ribs is more readily changed than that of any other bones of the body; for their situation is such that the constant pressure of the clothing above them day after day needs to be but slight to bend them downwards and inwards. Well, you say, what if they are bent downward and inward? what harm is done? It is an old saying that Nature abhors a vacuum. There is no unoccupied space in the body; and to render any part of it smaller than Nature designed is to cause the organs occupying that part to diminish in size, or to crowd together one upon another. In either case, Nature's processes are sadly interrupted. It does not require any great pressure to lessen the capacity of the thoracic cavity, provided the process be begun in early life. Snugly fitting dresses worn from childhood till the age of eighteen or twenty will accomplish the result; but, as if to make assurance doubly sure, the mother buys a compress, which she clasps around the body of her little girl while yet the bones are in their most yielding state. And no wonder the girl of sixteen or eighteen thinks she cannot live without her corsets. The muscles, never having been allowed to do the work of supporting the spinal column and abdominal organs, refuse to come up to the full measure required of them at a moment's notice, and, as a natural consequence, the young lady feels all she expresses when she says, "It seems as though I should drop to pieces without my corsets."

Within this thoracic cavity of which I have been speaking are contained the vital organs,—viz., the lungs and heart,—called vital because an entire suspension of their functions for a few minutes will result in death.

The lungs, which are the essential organs of respiration, are composed of tubes, blood-vessels, and air-cells; and these are held together by a thin connective tissue. The tubes are branches of the trachea or wind-pipe. These branches divide again and again, as a tree divides into branches and twigs, till they become too minute to be seen with the naked eye. At the utmost extremity of each of these twigs may be seen little bladders or air-cells, which receive the air as it comes through the tubes. It is estimated that there are 600,000,000 of these air-cells in one pair of lungs. The blood-vessels coming from the heart divide and subdivide, and finally form a network around each one of the air-cells. All the blood in the body passes through the lungs once in five minutes, to be oxygenized. The oxygen is taken with every breath into these air-cells, and is given off to the blood through the membranes of the air-cells and the bloodvessels. The blood in turn gives up its carbon, and that which upon entering the lungs was a purplish hue becomes a bright cherry color. Thus vitalized, it is returned to the left side of the heart, to be sent out all over the body, carrying life and health to every part. Situated between the lungs is that hollow muscular organ, the heart; and below them is the liver, the greater part of which lies upon the right side, and extends downward, in its normal position, to about the lower border of the tenth rib. The diaphragm is the internal breathing muscle; and it acts a very important part in the process of respiration. It is attached in front to the lower portion of the breast-bone; on either side, to the inner surfaces of the cartilages and bony portions of six or seven lower ribs; and behind, to that part of the spinal column known as the lumbar region.

Now as to the action of the diaphragm. It modifies to a great extent the size of the chest above it, and the position of the thoracic and abdominal viscera below. During inspiration, the cavity of the chest enlarges in a vertical direction nearly two inches, and the greater part of this increase is due to the descent of the diaphragm. I have been thus minute in this description for a reason that will appear later.

Let us compress the chest by putting a bandage around the ribs: draw it tight, and what is the effect? You can hardly find breath to say, "Oh! I cannot breathe;" you grow red in the face; the head seems ready to burst. What is the trouble? Why, you have so compressed the lungs that the air cannot pass into the air-cells, and you are in a state of asphyxia, and this means a suspension of the respiratory process.

Let us look for a moment at the result of such a suspension when it becomes entire. You will remember about the network of blood-vessels surrounding the air-cells. A complete suspension of respiration causes a retardation or stoppage of the circulation through this network. Now the blood, arrested in the lungs, ceases to reach the heart in sufficient quantities to support the action of that organ, and the phenomena of life are suspended. In order that the blood may pass through the pulmonary veins into the left heart, it must be changed from venous to arterial blood; that is, the blood which is charged with carbonic acid upon arriving at the lungs must give off this poison, and at the same instant receive the oxygen, which has been brought into the air-cells in the air we have inhaled. But the pressure we have applied has prevented this change from venous to arterial blood, by cutting off the supply of oxygen; the blood cannot return to the left side of the heart, and the lungs cannot receive any more from the right side of the heart; neither can the right heart receive any further supply from the veins which usually empty their contents into it; and consequently we have a state of congestion all over the system. If this pressure should be kept up from two to five minutes, death would be the result.

The chest of a pugilist was so much compressed by an attempt to take a plaster cast of his body in one piece that all action of the muscles of respiration was prevented. As he was unable to speak, the danger of death became imminent; but his situation was discovered in time, and his life saved.

I have been describing the consequence of a complete suspension of respiration, which is death in from two to five minutes. Has it occurred to you that there is one article of woman's dress so constructed that, when clasped around the waist, it applies this pressure,—not to the extent of instant death indeed, but yet to such an extent that those who wear it live at

a dying rate? The corset is the name of this instrument of human torture. So far as I am able to learn, no one takes to corsets naturally, and it is only after hours of suffering that one becomes able to endure them without pain,—I mean, of course, if by good fortune one has lived to the age of thirteen or fifteen without them. But now-a-days children's corsets are for sale, and almost as soon as the little girl is able to walk these are put upon her.^[1] Too young to enter a protest, and too young to be heeded if she should, she grows up accustomed to the pressure, and scarcely realizes the change from children's to ladies' corsets.

Just here, perhaps, you are recalling the position of the lungs, and saying that corsets do not encroach upon the region occupied by those organs, and therefore cannot compress them, and that all my charges fall to the ground. Not so fast, my dear girl! Please to recall the diaphragm, and its attachments to the lower part of the breast-bone and to the inner surfaces of five or six lower ribs, and then tell me if the pressure applied by corsets does not fall directly over this region.

For a complete filling of the air-cells, the cavity of the chest must be enlarged, in order to accommodate an increased expansion of the lungs; and I have shown you that this increase in the size of the cavity is duc, in a great measure, to the depression of the diaphragm. Now, if you have compressed the ribs and cartilages so much that they cannot act, the diaphragm remains nearly or quite motionless, the cavity is smaller than is requisite for a complete filling of all the air-cells. a part of the blood is not oxygenized, and the system suffers just in proportion to the amount of carbonic acid retained in the blood.

"But I do not wear my corsets too tight," every lady is ready to answer. I never yet have been able to find a woman who did, if we accept her own statement; and yet physicians are constantly called upon to treat diseases which are aggravated, if not caused, by wearing corsets. Nature is long suffering, and for a time yields her rights so quietly that we do not realize how we are imposing upon her. But a day of reckoning will surely come, perhaps too late. You do not wear your corsets too tight, you say. Tell me, then, why they unclasp with a snap, and why you involuntarily take a long, deep breath when you unclasp them.

If you will allow me, I will explain why you take that long, deep breath. All day the blood has been seeking to enter the blood-vessels of the lungs in a greater quantity than they were able to receive on account of the pressure upon them. Now the pressure is off; and the blood, no longer obstructed, rushes into the network of blood-vessels surrounding the air-cells, and instantly there is a call for oxygen to take the place of the carbonic acid contained in it. Involuntarily we answer this call with a deep breath, and a complete filling of the air-cells. In a moment equilibrium is restored; the blood flows into the lungs more steadily, and an easy respiration is then sufficient to supply the demand for oxygen.

But I have hinted at diseases produced and aggravated by this continued pressure. For instance, the obstruction of pulmonary circulation may and does cause enlargement of the left ventricle of the heart, as well as congestion of brain, liver, and kidneys.

Nearly a year ago a young lady complained to me that she was troubled with palpitation of the heart, at times quite seriously so. A glance was sufficient to show me that she wore corsets, and that they were drawn to the last fraction of an inch. I told her she was injuring herself; and, that I might prove it, induced her to let me measure the corsets as she was wearing them. I found they measured just twenty-two inches. I then put the tape-measure around her waist, and, holding it loosely between thumb and finger, asked her to fill her lungs. She did so, and the measure drew out to twenty-six inches. So you can readily see that she was sacrificing health to a fancied style of beauty. I am sorry to say that she would not change her habit, and I have since known this same young lady to get another to hook her corsets for her, because they were so small that she could not possibly bring them together.

I am very glad to be able to give you an instance which proves, on the other hand, that there is still some sense left among women. A young lady came to me quite out of health, and with symptoms of weakness of the lungs. Among other remedies I prescribed the leaving off of corsets, which advice she was willing to receive and adopt. She became very much better; and I believe a greater part of the improvement was due to the giving up of corsets, aided by a few weeks in the country, where the lungs were at liberty to take in God's sweet air without hindrance. About six months after, she wished to attend a wedding reception, and thought she would put on the corsets, just for the evening. To use her own words, she was in agony till she could get home and take them off, thus proving what I have before stated, that women do not take to corsets naturally.

I think I have given you good reasons why you should not wear corsets; and now let me suggest in their place a waist cut to fit the form, a basque waist, with a strong band stitched upon the skirt or lower part. Upon this band sew five or six buttons, and in the bands of all the skirts work button-holes to correspond. You will then have all your clothes suspended from the shoulders without straps or tapes, which I have always found inconvenient from the fact that they will slip off from the shoulders. Having thus suspended your skirts to a loose, wellfitted waist, you not only allow plenty of room for the expansion of lungs, but you avoid any stricture about that part of the body situated between the thoracic and pelvic cavities, and which has only muscular walls. The stricture caused by bands about the waist when they are worn without corsets has been an argument in favor of the latter article of dress; but the style of waist proposed will remedy this evil, while it accommodates itself to the needs of chest and lungs.

But why, if we leave the lungs free to act well their part, need we remove the weight of clothing from the hips? This brings us to consider the pelvic cavity and its contents. This cavity is formed by the union of the two bones called in familiar language hip-bones with cach other in front, and with the lower part of the spinal column behind. In the lower part of this cavity are situated the bladder and the uterus or womb. Above these organs are twenty-five feet of intestines lying loosely in the abdominal cavity, with no great amount of support from above. These lower organs are joined together by the folding over and around of the membrane called peritoneum, so that whatever displaces one will affect the others to a certain extent. There are some ligaments which hold them in position, but they will yield if too great or too long-continued pressure be exerted from above downwards. In this way some of the discases peculiar to woman are brought about.

When the weight of clothing is supported only by the hips, it has a tendency to press down the intestines, and their weight must then fall upon the organs below. These, in their turn, are forced to yield. One of the rules for treatment of diseases of this nature laid down in the books is, "Remove all weight from the hips."

Well, having fastened your skirts in this way, make them as light as possible for the sake of the shoulders, lest you may overburden them. To this end, make the skirts as free from heavy trimmings as possible, and cut off the extra length that requires a facing of wiggin or leather to keep it tolerably clean. Do this with your walking dresses, at least; and then, having a broad, low heel upon your boot, a half day's shopping, or even a whole day's, may be accomplished with ease and comfort.

If you have cut off the train, you will be able to dispense with that other superfluity, the pannier,—I believe that is the name of the excrescence,—and which when worn bears upon a region that ought not to be subjected to heat or pressure. In the region which this article of dress covers, the kidneys are situated; and just below them, upon either side, large bundles of nerves make their exit from the spinal cord, and pass downward to the lower extremities. Any continued pressure over this region will tend to cause either a dormant condition of these nerves, or perhaps an irritation which will result in pain and lameness. A young lady of my acquaintance—who, because it is the fashion, feels herself obliged to wear one of these deformities—always suffers a severe pain in the hip as a penalty, and yet she must wear it when she goes out, for "how she would look without it!"

Will the time ever come when women will assert their rights in the matter of dress,—when each shall be free to adopt a style which allows the full and free use of all the powers, both physical and mental, with which God has endowed her? It need not necessarily be one that shall be noticeable for its oddity; it need not be one so closely resembling that of the masculine sex as to subject us to the charge of wishing to be men. I believe that about all I envy in man's apparel is the opportunity for pockets which it affords. These I would like.

Then there is a moral side to this question of dress, which I do not propose to discuss at any great length; but I will mention it, and leave honest, conscientious minds to ponder and decide its value. Is it right for us to pay so much worship to dress? is it right to make it the criterion of respect and favor in the horse-car, in the church, at the party? So long as richly dressed women take precedence everywhere because they are richly dressed, so long will the tempter find it casier to secure his victim. Human nature is the same in all. Love of attention is as strong and legitimate in the girl who is obliged to earn her daily bread as in the girl whose father pays her bills. We all know the low wages received by the girls who wait upon us at the many stores throughout the city. These wages scarcely suffice, in many cases, to pay for roomrent and for food! What, then, of clothes to wear? Oh, shame! upon men in this city, who, when the innocent girl pleads that the low wages offered will scarcely pay for living expenses and she demands "wherewithal shall I be clothed?"—shame—yes, and God's wrath—upon those who answer, "You can find some friend who will give you these for your company." I am not imagining a case now, but telling you a fact. Then the struggle grows hard: the desire for dress for the sake of the attention, not to say the common civility, which is accorded to it, becomes stronger; and, too often the temptation is greater than she is able to bear.

Now who is to blame? The girl, certainly; but are not we, who allow so much to depend upon dress, somewhat—yes, greatly—responsible for the snare which has caught her young feet? Can we not help her by adopting a style of dress that shall not put such a difference between the appearance of the rich and the poor?

There is, in the future of us all, a day when all these outward adornings must be laid aside, and when we must give an account unto Him who has said, "Whoso causeth one of these little ones that believe in me to offend, it were better that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he be cast into the sea;" and again, "Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these, ye did it unto me."

Ladies,—I thank you for your presence here, and for your attention during the hour. I trust that the seed I have attempted to sow has fallen upon honest minds, and that some of it may spring up and bear fruit a hundred-fold.

1. A few days ago, I stepped into a large corset manufactory that is carried on by a woman. I told her I was interested to know what women and children wear in this line, and asked to see her wares from the least unto the greatest. She began by showing me the tiniest article I ever saw in the shape of a corset, saying that was for babies. Then she brought forward another grade, and still another, and so on, till I think she must have shown me fifteen or twenty different-sized corset moulds, in which she runs the female forms that get into her hands. She informed me that all the genteel waists I should meet on the fashionable strects of the city she made; that the mothers brought their daughters in infancy to her, and that she passed them through the whole course of moulds till they were ready for the real French corset, when she considered them finished and perfect.
   Yesterday I visited the first class in one of our city girls' grammar schools, consisting of forty-two pupils. I had five questions on a slip of paper, that I asked permission of the teacher to put to the girls:—
   First.—"How many of you wear corsets?"
   Answer.—"Twenty-one." I asked them to stretch their arms as high as they could over their heads. In every instance it was hard work, and in most cases impossible, to get them above a right angle at the shoulders.
   Second question.—"How many of you wear your skirts resting entirely upon your hips, with no shoulder-straps or waists to support them?"
   Answer.—"Thirty."
   Third question.—"How many wear false hair?"
   Answer.—"Four."
   Fourth question.—"How many wear tight boots?"
   Answer.—"None" (which I doubted).
   Fifth question.—"How many do not wear flannels?"
   Answer.—"Eighteen."
   I went across the hall to a boys' class, corresponding in grade, consisting of forty-four pupils. I asked for the number of boys without flannels, and found only six.
   Of course one hundred per cent were without corsets, or weight upon hips, or tight boots, or false hair. Every boy could raise his arms in a straight line with his body, as far as he could reach, with perfect ease.—From a published Paper entitled Corsets vs. Brains, by Louise S. Hotchkiss.