13 Apr 2009

Dangerous Beauty

Continuing musings on toxic cosmetics...

What is amazing to me, is that the Georgian beauties knew what they were risking in applying ceruse directly onto their skin - and that was just for starters, the white lead 'base coat' - even without a legion of scientists and rodents to guinea-pig for them. Common gossip alleged that a number of women had died from 'addiction' to various dangerous tints: in his correspondence, Horace Walpole mentions Lady Fortrose, ‘killed like Lady Coventry and others by white lead, of which nothing could break her’, even though ceruse was known to be ‘corrosive and pernicious to the skin.’ As late as 1822 The British Perfumer warned of the high toxicity of vermilion, recommending the use of less harmful cochineal papers for applying rouge instead.

But are we any better today? Our Hollywood belles inject poison into their flesh in Botox, which magazines and tube adverts attempt to incite us to also try over a lunch-time sandwich. It's becoming ever-more common for 'ordinary' people to have bits of our faces augmented or our skin stretched tauter, bags of silicone deposited in our bodies, and inches of fat sucked away.

And, again just as today when we collude with artificiality - to some extent indulging ourselves, by persisting in feeling inferior to magazine images which we know are airbrushed - so George Romney, John Hoppner, Richard Westall, Richard Cosway, etc. were all even at the time known to flatter the (already excessively made-up) women who sat for them by further 'improving' their complexions...

1 comment:

John said...

In an age of warts and boils, perhaps a true likeness is one of the last things required. As Baldrick remarked in Blackadder III:

Baldrick: Well, Your Majesty, I just thought –
this Wellington bloke's been in Europe for years.
You don't know what he looks like.
He don't know what you looks like.
So why don't you get someone else to fight
the duel instead of you?

Prince George: But I'm the Prince Regent!
My portrait hangs on every wall!

Edmund: Answer that, Baldrick.

Baldrick: Well my cousin Bert Baldrick,
Mr. Gainsborough's butler's dogsbody,
he says that he's heard that all portraits look
the same these days, 'cause they're painted
to a romantic ideal rather than as a true
depiction of the idiosyncratic facial qualities
of the person in question.

Edmund: (impressed) Your cousin Bert
obviously has a larger vocabulary than
you do, Baldrick.

[thanks to Mr. Curtis and Mr. Elton]