{"id":1306,"date":"2010-12-13T09:00:30","date_gmt":"2010-12-13T09:00:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/?p=1306"},"modified":"2010-12-13T09:00:30","modified_gmt":"2010-12-13T09:00:30","slug":"an-alphabet-of-femininism-11-k-is-for-knickerbocker","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/badreputation.org.uk\/2010\/12\/13\/an-alphabet-of-femininism-11-k-is-for-knickerbocker\/","title":{"rendered":"An Alphabet of Feminism #11: K is for Knickerbocker"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

K<\/h6>\n

KNICKERBOCKER<\/h2>\n

“I should say that a walking suit in which one could not walk, and a winter suit which exposes the throat, head, and feet to cold and damp, was rather a failure,” said Dr. Alec [who had his own ideas about what his niece should be wearing.]<\/p>\n

“Alec, if it is a Bloomer, I shall protest. I’ve been expecting it, but I know I cannot bear to see that pretty child sacrificed to your wild ideas of health. Tell me it isn’t a Bloomer!” and Mrs. Clara clasped her hands imploringly.<\/p>\n

Louisa May Alcott, Eight Cousins (1875)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Nope, a\u00a0knickerbocker. <\/em>This is a strange word, with an uncertain trajectory from immigration to ladies’ unmentionables, and its progress will here be followed with a suitably bifurcated approach: one leg underwear and one leg outerwear. We meet in the middle.<\/p>\n

\"Victorian<\/a>

Work it. A Bloomer from the 1850s.<\/p><\/div>\n

The word’s first appearance is in capitalised form:\u00a0Knickerbocker<\/em> is the name given to ‘a descendent of the original Dutch settlers of the New Netherlands in America; hence, a New Yorker’ \u2013 the New ‘Netherlands’ becoming, of course, New ‘York’ after the English got their grubby hands on it.<\/p>\n

The everyday appearance of the term\u00a0must be attributed to\u00a0Washington Irving’s 1848 History of New York<\/em>, purported to have been written by one ‘Diedrich Knickerbocker’. A long chain, this name was appropriated from Irving’s pal Herman of the same name, who was in turn descended from Harmen Jansen Knickerbocker (c.1650-1720), one of the original Dutch settlers, who supposedly invented the name. Awesome.<\/p>\n

But where are the unmentionables?<\/p>\n

It’s Over.<\/h3>\n

These appear in the second sense of the word, a development on the first, from 1859, where it is pluralised to knickerbockers <\/em>– ‘Loose-fitting breeches, gathered in at the knee; also extended to the whole costume worn with this’. Irving is once again lurking around, because this usage is said to refer to George Cruikshank’s illustrations of the same opus. Knickerbockers wear knickerbockers. Duh.<\/span><\/p>\n

These ‘loose-fitting breeches gathered at the knee’ became, in another life, standard wear for little boys, whose breeching <\/em>(the graduation to trousers) consequently became a coming-of-age moment. Short trousers, of course,\u00a0facilitated\u00a0easy, boisterous movement, and in Eight Cousins<\/em>, quoted above, the\u00a0incorrigibly fashionable Aunt Clara resents her little niece, Rose, wearing such loose-fitting bifurcated garments: ‘Dress her in that boyish way and she will act like a boy. I do hate all these inventions of strong-minded women!’<\/p>\n

So\u00a0Knickerbockers <\/em>were\u00a0not simply a New York trend: they were part of sartorial gender differentiation. Little girls wear restrictive petticoats to keep them ladylike; those boys who have graduated from their baby-skirts<\/a> wear garments that allow them to be as boyish as necessary. It is no coincidence that, in their modern incarnation, knickerbockers <\/em>are kept firmly in the domain of sportswear<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Bloomin’ ‘Eck<\/h3>\n
\"'Bicycle<\/a>

Cartoon from Punch, 1895. <\/p><\/div>\n

The ‘Bloomers’ Aunt Clara has such a horror of were the pet project of another Knickerbocker. <\/em>In the 1850s,\u00a0Miss Amelia Bloomer, from Cortland County, New York, began a crusade to popularise the ‘Bloomer suit’, not her own invention, but eventually synonymous with her name. This was an Eastern-inspired way to wear your skirt: shorter with the aid of modest, wide-legged trousers that tapered at the knee. Modesty preserved; movement uninhibited. Job done.<\/p>\n

But despite enthusiasm from several quarters, Miss Bloomer’s overall success was limited and bloomers<\/em> themselves roundly mocked in most quarters for being just too weird. In 1859, she dropped her project altogether because of the arrival of a fresh sartorial development, immediately fashionable, sexually appealing and simple \u2013 something that, she felt, did the job of fusing modesty, comfort and practicality just as well. And the name of this marvel? The crinoline<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Underneath the Bridge.<\/h3>\n

The devoted may remember that this strange hooped structure, by virtue of moving independently of its owner, facilitated the easy movement of the legs underneath. Obviously you could not sally around bareback underneath (as you had mostly done before<\/a>), and thus the ubiquity of\u00a0pantalettes <\/em>(elongated\u00a0drawers<\/em>). And here comes the bifurcated garment \u2013 not yet knickers<\/em>, for they are still too long to qualify for a diminutive\u00a0\u2013\u00a0relegated to underwear.<\/p>\n

These pantalettes<\/em> were not simply loose cotton trousers like the bloomer<\/em> (although they could be), but frequently two separate garments, one for each leg; their intent was not to cover one’s proverbial shame, but rather to keep the legs out of sight (and rather toasty too). Thus, they frequently bifurcated at the rumpal regions rather than the legs themselves, in which form they remained until the turn of the century.<\/p>\n

Daisy, Daisy…<\/h3>\n

It was the strange innovation of the bicycle that, for the first time since Amelia Bloomer, re-addressed the question of external female\u00a0knickerbockers<\/em>,\u00a0for simple safety purposes. Though the haterz still hated, there was something about this new mode of transport that (literally) mobilised a whole generation of women, storming these shocking garments through to\u00a0respectability on a bicycle.\u00a0It may come as small surprise to learn that these sartorial liberators came swingin’ back into fashion in the 1960s, epitomised by Yves St. Laurent’s velvet knickerbocker suit<\/a>, and extending to gender-neutral clothing, and jeans for both sexes.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, bloomers <\/em>were beating a retreat up the leg as\u00a0Mary Quant advanced a new weapon: the ‘mini-skirt’. For the first time, stockings and the bifurcated undergarments worn with them were conflated, and suddenly there was a need for practical brief <\/em>coverings (with a name to match) to avoid flashing in the streets and, presumably, to protect the designer tights<\/em> that went over them. Knickers <\/em>had arrived.\u00a0The decline of stockings as status quo prompted some to herald a new ‘sexless woman’ (A Good Thing), although this may also have resulted from a\u00a0vogue for pre-pubescent figures combined with ambiguous schoolgirl traditions:<\/a> puffed sleeves, pinafores, Mary-Janes and little boy-shorts. A strange sort of liberation, perhaps.<\/p>\n

\"K<\/a><\/p>\n

NEXT WEEK: L is for Lady<\/strong><\/p>\n