Tracking Liberation and Subjugation through Clothing

I am a third year Philosophy and Psychology student, working on the Curating, Researching, Digitising and Exhibiting Leicestershire Museum Collections Placement. Spanning the collection, research, 3D photogrammetry and marketing of my object, I am excited to work on all-pervasive aspects involved in making Leicestershire’s archives more available to the public.

I am particularly interested in how we assimilate parts of our identity with ordinary objects, and what it means to access aspects of ourselves reminiscent of figures from the past. I worked at the University’s Digital Transformations Hub in 2023, turning local archives into public documents; I found this incredibly interesting and therapeutic.

This new project allows me to go beyond just the processing of information, to doing the research behind the significance of objects and their narratives, and how to convey this.

In my day-to-day life, I love researching family history. This is namely via photo albums or letters, some from as early as the 1890s, alongside grandparents relaying mundane details about their childhood bedroom, or their father’s first car. These conversations strengthen my present relationships, as well as providing the most direct access into family identity. 

In this way, I like to engage in the more personable aspects of history - the areas that families or groups converge on, and what this means. 

Through this lens, the corset represents both a mechanism of control and a vehicle for female self-empowerment, a nuanced and multifaceted symbol that reveals a lot about the complexities of gender and power in the 19th century.

I am particularly interested in the relationship between the corset and Civilian Clothing 1941 (CC41) women’s trousers, reflecting the social process of female emancipation, class integration and transcending limits on gender expression.

I will look at how political events have had both direct and indirect implications on identity - i.e. how a war fought by women on the home front aided their integration into the workforce, normalising practical clothing, aiding in the deconstruction of the perfectly dressed wife.

From the other end, I will look at the complex history behind how petticoats served as a marker of identity, for the lady of the house, men, and housemaids. 

For women, corsetry and personal design opened up a kind of social ontological conversation about identity. It served as a form of private language that was largely inaccessible - and overlooked - by men, without the access to the subtleties of what different lacing, length, or materials indicated.

This form of hiding in plain sight became a way for women to reclaim their voice. While women were excluded from academic publications and politics, they could still communicate through social interactions.

This form of ownership of the self, and silent peer understanding, marks a fine-tuned response to liberation within limits; on the one hand, it provided women a secret ownership of their body, identity, social relationships and ultimately, of language.

On the other hand, the fact that this communication was covert and hidden reflects the more pervasive issue - that men held ownership on the public ways that women presented this idea of the self. 

I’m interested in this idea of a collective secret amongst women; a set of terms and protocols inaccessible to men, and women not of ‘their kind’.

This form of silent communications persists in many ways; like social faux pas that those with generational wealth might have access to, but recent members of the middle class fail to access - creating a discreet difference, that only those ‘in the know’ are astutely aware of.

In the 19th century, clothing represented much more than just who was a member of a private club, but a whole non-verbal exchange of how we perceive ourselves and how this influences social alliances, and ultimately how we want to be perceived and present our identity.

In this way, the struggles of control and lacing might act more as a form of small control in an otherwise very monochronic life. Interestingly, the leading narrative that housemaids served as the image of their master is incorrect; in fact, it was often the Lady of the house (in medium-sized estates) that had governance over the running, hiring and standards that the staff were obliged to maintain. In a dichotomous fashion, the Lady became liberated in one sense via a form of control, whilst other women were directly placed further into subjugation via her orders. 

For the Lady of the house, tight lacing was in part a reflection of her status for its impracticality; it suggested she was not partaking in the housework, and therefore had a network of staff maintaining the estate. This posits an interesting balance between directly encouraging housemaids to be presentable and wear corsets for the image of class (externally), whilst also requiring them to be notably distinct from the upper class, and not infringing on the ‘innate’ differences between them. 

An interesting reflection is whether, to any degree, this exclusion from the complex nature of female dress ware was in part a liberation. Clothing accessibility was nuanced. However, although housemaids were physically restricted from class integration, in one sense the lesser emphasis on perfect English, the intricacies of social faux-pax and airs and graces, suggest that there was less suppression of identity. While housemaids were reprimanded by their employers, their conformity was less self-imposed than that of upper-class women. Their exclusion from the narrative of perfection could, in a way, offer more freedom than the upper-class women's struggle to maintain a flawless image of wealth and class.

McClintock (1995) explores how the housemaids -or women without a workforce - engaged in a commonplace nightly ritual, rubbing hands with bacon fat and sleeping with gloves. This ritual aimed to erase the visible signs of wear from the housework in the day, in a way that could maintain the image of the gentile, attractive woman. He looks at how 'all the signs that were evident of the women's agency, especially in work related to cleaning the house, kitchen, and childcare, were carefully hidden through an outward appearance that evoked fragility', an idea that no longer marks it as self-maintenance, but instead as self-erasure (McClintock, 1995, p.152).

This raises several questions:

• Who is fetishizing the corset?
• Is it women, drawn to the power of the female body or a queer attraction, or is it men, idealizing the fictional 'perfect' woman? 

This leads to more pertinent additional questions:

• Is corsetry a form of liberation or further subjugation?
• Does it strip women of ownership over a garment not even visible in daily life?
• Or does it give women a powerful image of themselves, a demonstration of the sexual power they hold over men - something they might pine after but not attain?

However, if we consider the idea of unattainability, we have to explore yet another additional question:

• Does this create a dehumanizing narrative for women, where even in fiction, they can never live up to the ideal?

These questions are complex and ultimately hold true in many ways today - namely debates within the porn industry, or glamour images. Katie Price notoriously argued that her sexualised self-portrayal was a form of empowerment - and to shame this sexual liberation is to confine women, rather than liberate them.

This remains a contentious issue, but it shows that the sexualization of women isn't a black-and-white issue. While it may be viewed as an act of liberation, it ultimately contributes to an environment of female sexualization, creating divisions and contradictions within a community of the female experience.

The corset literally moulded the body to create a desirable image not only for men, but for female rivals, and the chasing of wealth itself. The idea of this as a mode of sexual expression is interesting.

At a time so entrenched in the repression of female sexuality, it's difficult to find a consistent narrative on how corsetry was viewed. Some condemned tight lacing due to the illusory figure it created, suggesting a disapproval of female sexualization from both men and significantly, from other women.

In this instance I think, particularly amongst younger women, there was this fantasy over a small-scale, relatively unthreatening rebellion - that ultimately incurred the wrath of family members, whilst simultaneously securing the validation of male suitors - even more fanatical if they were totally unsuitable for courting. 

While it still undermined full control over the body, it demonstrated how there was something that men could not access purely by class or reason. Whether a woman actively engaged in tight lacing or embraced the overt sexualization of herself via the corset, the knowledge that it was an obtainable mode of control offered a form of liberation.

It symbolized a rebellious, unspoken threat that women could, if they desired, dismantle this image of the perfect chastised girl and ultimately reinvent their public image with a form of sexual control. 

In this way, whilst the sexualisation of corsetry was consumed primarily by men, aiding in the unrealistic expectations within relationships, the idea that women could intentionally elicit such displays of emotional craving demonstrates a tailored form of power in the dynamic between man and woman. The evoking of emotions and the ceding to weakness and desire mirrors the very thing that women were criticised for.

I think this demonstrates an ironic regaining of power, in a domain that women could access, being the understanding and manipulation of the body. This suggests that the sexual power of the corset was not purely a form of voyeuristic submission to the male gaze, but simultaneously an expression of female sexuality and power.

In 1881, the Rational Dress Society emerged as part of a larger Victorian dress reform movement, which condemned any clothing that altered or deformed the body. This included corsets, high heels, and heavy skirts. The Society advocated for clothing that promoted health, comfort, and beauty, without compromising women's well-being.

Their exhibition slogan- "grace and beauty combined with comfort and convenience” emphasised that fashion should not perpetuate harmful standards of female health (Evening Journal, 1888, p.3). This movement did not reject the desire for beauty but sought clothing that was free from physical harm.

Charlotte Stopes, a key figure in the movement, gained significant attention after an impromptu session on rational dress, which received extensive media coverage. Though she advocated for comfort, she did so within the limits of Victorian standards of modesty and propriety.

Her approach was subtle and effective, challenging societal norms without causing a dramatic backlash, or incurring a reputation that could automatically brand her a source of ridicule.

This fear, combined with the anti-restrictive movements and arguments for less rigid gender distinctions in dress, gradually led to the decline of corsetry as a fashion staple and the height of innovation.

Dr. Herbert Snow was more extreme in his views of corsetry than most, arguing that “if ladies only knew how ridiculous they made themselves appear in the eyes of the baser animal man by wearing corsets, he felt sure they would soon abandon the absolutely sickening features they now presented” (Evening Journal, 24.11.1888).

This echoes modern beauty standards that prioritize unattainable, often unhealthy body types. These trends, like the obsession with the taut and emaciated body in the early 2000s, reveal a cycle of harmful fashion ideals that transcend eras.

Dr. Snow’s criticism suggests how society's fixation on body image can go beyond mere trends, shaping an identity that is often both unhealthy and unrealistic.

It highlights the ultimate irony- that this gruelling process of self-regiment and deprivation is actually opposing the male idea anyway. In this way, Snow’s admission that women were trying to appeal to men, but were effectively doing it wrong, demonstrates the contradictory standards of the self that women are often held to.

This idea of reforming corsetry needed to be a gradual process. Snow argued that abruptly removing the corset would cause irreversible damage to the spine, and the 'reformed woman would gain little benefit from her newfound freedom' (Evening Journal, 24.11.1888). Instead, change should occur incrementally, allowing people to adjust to new norms without reverting to old habits.

This idea reflects broader societal change- where too much radicalism, even with the best of intentions, can have harmful consequences. Physically it highlights how trends are all-consuming, and we are only able to see the extent of the damage when we take a step back, and realise it is too late.

True reform happens slowly, with people gradually accepting new ways of thinking and living, as seen in the shift from restrictive corsetry to more comfortable clothing- metaphorically and physically loosening the constrictive binds on the female body.

Firstly, women were seated in male roles, that were previously inaccessible. There had been this long-standing belief that women weren’t just responsible for raising the children, but instead they were not employable at all, physically and emotionally incapable of high standing positions, like being a doctor or a scientist.

This is witnessed by the general omission of women within universities, until it became more mainstream in the mid 20th C. The war provided a landscape of economic desperation - women were required to make a sustainable Britain for the soldiers to return to.

Despite the hardships of the war, women played a critical role in keeping Britain functional - managing everything from rationing to maintaining supply chains during a time of global economic crisis.

The wartime necessity of women stepping into these positions demonstrated that there were no inherent physical or intellectual limitations preventing women from taking on such responsibilities. This, coupled with ensuing post-war economic crises, created a landscape where women were not only wanting to work, but were now given jobs with power, prestige and influence. 

The changing attitudes towards the petticoat and CC41 trousers demonstrate the progression of inner dialect and identity. The relationship between clothing and self-expression is not just about the garments themselves but the context in which they are worn. For women in the 1800s, clothing like the corset served as a subtle marker of identity, signalling one’s social class and femininity.

By the 1940s, the more overt shift to trousers demonstrated a physical and social liberation that defied traditional gender norms. This evolution highlights the changing nature of gender roles and the ways in which clothing can both reflect and shape our understanding of identity. Women started with subtle clothing choices often unnoticed by the opposite sex, or those beyond their social class.

The petticoats’ subtle alterations, enhancements and ultimately the curated image demonstrated the fragility of identity and expressionism within the 1800s; the more overt male parallels with CC41 trousers demonstrated how these hesitancies and subtleties were overwritten. Women transgressed the distinction between classes, and between the sexes, an overt, and significantly, collective form of liberation that actively defied the male-gaze, rather than perpetuating general subjugation, at the hands of small individual acts of liberation or control.