Undies Enter Politics II

( Originally Published Early 1900's )

Roman Marjorie undoubtedly wears bands to support her body. More concerned about her figure than Greek Marjorie, it is possible that these bands were so constructed as to give greater trimness of effect. And with her penchant for color, displayed in her outer garments, it seems not improbable that Roman Marjorie's Lure Brassiere and her Wee-Fit Girdle, or what corresponded to such articles, may be of such fashionable tints of our own day as peach or dove or pearl-lustre, or the like.

One thing is certain. With all wealth and opulence, together with her flair for fetching things, she is without a pantie to her name. She has no Step-Ins, with or without panel front. Curiously enough, the civilized world had long before totally forgotten that a bifurcated nether garment had ever existed—the civilized world, that is, outside of the Orient. The flamboyant trousers of Minoan Marjorie were now as though they had never been.

Thus, observes the Professor, we approach Julius Caesar by way of modern panties, white and "blush" tints and so on, for a definite purpose. The reason is that it is here maintained that the pantie worn by femininity today is derived directly from the male garb of the barbarian Gauls. This momentous matter has been argued otherwise with much spirit and the thesis propounded, with the support of etymological deduction and historical interpretation, that the heredity of women's differs from that of Breeches.

The confused origins of breeches sets a problem uncommonly tantalizing even in the study of costume. One thing is clear enough. The Romans conquered Gaul. That portion of western Europe, in the main identical with modern France though somewhat greater in extent, was divided among several races. The various campaigns of Caesar went on for some time; however, about 55 B.C. the great Julius came driving up in his limousine, having made a complete conquest of Gaul. As early as 121 B.C., however, Legionnaires returned from the wars must have sat in the gin-mills of Rome and regaled the wondering stay-at-homes who stood them to drinks with rich accounts of the fantastic pants worn by their barbarian enemies.

The Romans considered this national dress so original that they named one of their newly acquired provinces Gallia Braccata, from the Latin braccae, meaning trousers, or, as certain learned works say, breeches.

At any rate, these ancestral pants (so to call 'em) were looked upon as a sign of barbarism and, as such, held in contempt by men of the world, both at Rome, politically preeminent, and at Athens, still the intellectual center of the world. Certainly a prominent Roman clubman could not have thought up any way of getting himself in more infra dig than by wearing them. "Barbarum tegmen," said Tacitus.

The idea of this innovation in clothing, however, apparently did not arrive by the process of spontaneous combustion among the Gauls. Breeches were the national costume also of numerous other peoples, both to the north and the east of the Greeks and Romans. Nor does it seem that the object in putting on pants was altogether (in the language of science) to "increase the attractiveness" of the male and to "enhance the curiosity and desire" of the opposite sex.

In these faroff days of barbarism, it was the custom generally for women to give their occupation to the census-taker as "housewife." As one writer succinctly puts it, "The woman shaped what the man provided." The go-getter the husband—in the forms of business open to him was obliged to make strenuous use of his legs. As a "leg man" he did not pound the pavements, but humped it through undergrowth and swollen torrents, against thorns and ragged rocks. Some protection for his legs was demanded by the chase.

As many of the leg-garbed races roamed in regions where the weather was inclement and other material for clothing was not at hand, they employed for their purpose the earliest form of clothing—the skins of their prey. In their most primitive form, breeches were sewed about the legs by leather thongs or were fitted on like armor. It has been presumed that man's first breeches were not taken off until they wore out. And, as they were pretty durable, it is likely that a good pair of pants would then very nearly, in the standard phrase, "last a lifetime."

The length of the Gallic nether garment was not constant. With the Franks and kindred barbarian tribes we find modifications, important in their historical significance. Full-length breeches bound tightly about the leg below the knee suggest the chausses, or what we might call long stockings, brought into use by the Norman fighting men early in the Middle Ages. This gear, with the lower leg laced somewhat in puttee fashion, obtained in Europe to the close of the thirteenth century, when hose came in. Then long hose.

In their rudimentary form, breeches were adopted by the British Celts upon their first association with the "panted people," the Gauls. The material was wool or linen; for hard wear and riding, hide. The stuff was usually a coarse hemp linen. Not at all bad-looking pants in cut, rather like modern riding breeches. The breeches of the Franks, characterized by bulky fullness in the upper part, probably resembled in general outline the brown jodhpurs of, say, Mrs. Amelia Earhart Putnam.

The color patterns of our ancestral breeches were a bit loud. They were frequently dyed, woven or worked in crosswise stripes or squares of various colors; sometimes an extra fancy effect was obtained by having both squares and stripes. This was also the mode for the sargum or cloak and for the tunic worn over the braccae. It was the fashion to let the shirttails swing generously outside.