The Changing Shades of Lingerie

Changes to the fashionable female silhouette at the beginning of the 20th century called for the introduction of new types of undergarments. During the 1920s, white cotton or linen chemises, drawers, and petticoats were replaced by dainty silk knickers and camisoles in a wide range of evocatively named colours, foreshadowing the lingerie of today.

In 1906, Princess Ena, one of Queen Victoria’s granddaughters, married King Alfonso XIII of Spain. As was customary, the bride’s trousseau – the garments and linen made for her life as a married woman – were put on show. The display, set up in the salon of Princess Ena’s corset maker, Madame Lambert of Hanover Square, included the Princess’ lingerie. It was reported in the press that most of the royal bride’s many petticoats were made of white linen lawn, with hints of colour provided by threaded satin ribbons in palest blue or pink, Ena’s favourite colours.

Modesty forbade mentioning any other »underthings«, but the princess would probably have taken chemises, drawers, and a fusion of the two, aptly named »combinations«, to Spain. Depending on one's budget, these garments were made of cotton, linen, or even silk, primarily in white although pastel shades as well as black were sometimes chosen, particularly for eveningwear. The corset, indispensable for achieving the fashionable S-bend silhouette, could also add a touch of colour.

The female silhouette had begun to metamorphose even before the outbreak of the first world war in 1914: waists rose until they settled underneath the bust, skirts became narrower, and hemlines gradually moved up. By the early 1920s, the mature woman, once the fashionable ideal, had been replaced by the young »flapper« who bobbed her hair, wore makeup – which she sometimes even applied in public(!) – and continued to shorten her now straight dress until it reached her knees.

The new style initiated what one contemporary journalist called a »cult of elimination«. The flapper shed undergarments until she was left with just a few. She wore her camisole, or later her brassiere or Kestos, with wide legged »French knickers«. Unless she was dancing or playing tennis, which required more decorous »directoire knickers«, made of machine-knit fabrics and gathered just above the knee. Camisoles and knickers were also combined into »cami-knickers« or »camibockers«. The pre-war corset had served to emphasise feminine curves; the post-war corselette flattened breasts and hips while ignoring the waist. Those lucky enough to have few curves could make do with a girdle.

Not only the shapes of the undergarments changed.

Since the 1890s, »artificial silk« had been produced. But it initially had several drawbacks, not least its name, which suggested a poor substitute. By the mid-1920s the man-made yarn had been rechristened »rayon«, at least in the US, and was so improved that fabrics could be produced entirely of artificial silk. Machine knit textiles became more ladder resistant and colour fastness improved. Artificial silk was now praised for being easy to wash – there had been rumours that garments had previously completely dissolved in water – not requiring boiling and starching like cotton and linen. Rightly or wrongly, the smoothness of artificial silk was said to make it dust- and dirt-resistant; it dried quicker on sweaty summer days and was deemed to be altogether more hygienic than »natural« materials, partly because it allowed the health-giving ultraviolet rays of the sun to penetrate. Artificial silk garments took up little space when packed in trunks for travelling and, most importantl, it was comparatively cheap.

Another quality that made rayon appealing to the flapper would later be regarded with disdain. Artificial silk is very glossy, or »lustrous«, as contemporaries would have said. This feature was reflected in some of the names associated with the new yarn: in 1921, the London department store Liberty’s mixed natural fibres with artificial silk to create the »Sungleam« fabric, and one of the three main producers of rayon in Germany was called »Glanzstoff« (lustruous fabric). It is not surprising that the textile’s sheen seemed so appealing during a period in which diamonds, metallic lamé fabrics, gleaming automobiles, and airplanes were worshipped.

Bright colours looked even more vibrant when rendered in lustrous artificial silk and both were introduced to underwear around the same time.

In July 1923, a »liking for strong colours in lingerie« such as deep apricot, cyclamen and »a rather bilious green« was reported. In the autumn that year, washing satin, georgette, and crêpe de chine was apparently ordered in »vivid colours, including green and coral-pink«, a »notable departure from old fashions«. In May 1924, the London store Shoolbreds advertised artificial silk camisoles not only in white and black but also in champagne, grey, helio (purple, after the heliotrope flower), cerise, almond-green, pink, »and other colours«. Two years later, Selfridge’s went further and promoted a silk lingerie fabric in over 20 shades including Pale Rose, Beige, Bois de Rose, Periwinkle, Eau de Nil, Pale Jade, Mauve, Lilac, Cyclamen, Sky, Champagne, Apricot, Turquoise, Peach, Flesh Pink, Lemon, Coral, Rose Pink, Shell Pink, Ivory, and Black.

The colours mentioned in advertisements do not necessarily reflect what was worn. Examples of brightly coloured 1920s lingerie, particularly yellow and heliotrope, have survived. But garments in varying shades of pink, peach and light green are much more common. Maybe this is no surprise: pastel colours had been used for lingerie for some time. They were generally in fashion and pale underwear was probably easier to wear underneath frocks often made of light materials. The penchant for light green, not a very popular shade now, could also have been a nostalgic nod to the pre-war period when »eau-de-nil« had been all the rage.

The 1930s saw the introduction of small floral patterns into lingerie fabrics, but the vast range of colours available in the previous decade was probably never surpassed. At the end of 1926, Thomas Brough, chief designer of fabrics at Courtaulds, one of the first manufacturers of artificial silk in England, had highlighted the two main contributions of artificial silk to the feminine wardrobe. The fabric was helping to place »garments with at least all the outward charm and loveliness of silk within the reach of the average woman«, and »to brighten and glorify life, by giving increased fullness, richness, and luminosity to colour«.