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](\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/11\/Bloomer.gif?resize=162%2C222\")
<\/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](\"https:\/\/i2.wp.com\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/11\/Bicycle_suit_punch_1895.jpg?resize=306%2C502\")
<\/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
“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 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
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
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
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
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![\"Victorian](\"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/11\/Bloomer.gif\")
<\/a>
It’s Over.<\/h3>\n
Bloomin’ ‘Eck<\/h3>\n
<\/a>
Underneath the Bridge.<\/h3>\n
Daisy,
Daisy…<\/h3>\n