Exhibit tells a story of class with underwear

The Scott County Historical Society's new exhibit examines how undergarments have reflected values and class roles.

For the Minnesota Star Tribune
November 15, 2011 at 8:22PM
Theresa Norman, curator of exhibits and collections at the Stans Museum in Shakopee, set up the new exhibit "Under Where? Unmentionables Exposed."
Theresa Norman, curator of exhibits and collections at the Stans Museum in Shakopee, set up the new exhibit “Under Where? Unmentionables Exposed.” (Photo by Liz Rolfsmeier/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Scarlett O'Hara's 17-inch waist didn't come without its drawbacks.

"Smelling salts and fainting couches, all that came about because corsets were so tight that people couldn't breathe properly," said Kathleen Klehr, executive director of the Scott County Historical Society. As shown by historic ads featured at their new exhibit, even children of the 19th century wore corsets to train their figures into that coveted elegant hourglass shape.

The new exhibit at the Stans Museum in Shakopee, "Under Where? Unmentionables Exposed," traces the rather quickly shifting history of undergarments, from metal-cage crinolines, bustles and other convoluted contraptions that compressed women's bodies, to the barely-there underwear of today. Underwear, said Klehr, is "a fairly new phenomenon. It's only a few hundred years old."

When the exhibit opens on Thursday, Klehr -- who holds a degree in women's and gender history from the University of York in England -- will discuss the history of underwear and how it reflects social status, perceptions of beauty and the changing roles of women.

"Underwear can start to tell you a little about the times," she said. "It exposes a lot more."

The exhibit's underwear history starts with the 16th century "farthingale," a costly undergarment worn only by women of the upper classes. Middle-class women who couldn't afford one sewed their own version, called a "bum roll," a crescent-shaped pillow stuffed with leaves or hay and fastened about their waists. "It was somewhat reminiscent of an airplane pillow," said Theresa Norman, curator of exhibits and collections at the museum. It achieved the same desired effect, bumping the skirt out and making the waist appear thinner.

In the 18th century, women wore panniers, akin to saddlebags on bicycles, and in the 19th century, fashion shifted to the bell-shaped whalebone or metal crinolines and bustles that bumped out the backs of skirts. Upper-class women were expected to wear the various kinds of hoop skirts on a daily basis, Klehr said, something not expected of women of the lower classes. "If you were out washing clothes, the whalebone would poke into you. It'd be very uncomfortable."

In addition to the restrictive nature of undergarments, the number of layers -- stockings, garters, corsets, underskirts, hoop skirts, overskirts -- made the process of dressing rather involved, and women had to constantly worry about simply trying to sit down in cumbersome hoop skirts without exposing themselves.

But the bloomers of the 1850s afforded women a little more freedom of movement, as they could lift their skirts higher. "It was a step in the direction of a little more freedom," Klehr said.

In the 1950s, "sweater girl" fashion emphasized shaping the upper body, Klehr said, with girdles and "bullet" bras. "Young girls would be encouraged to wear girdles," she said, "even if you didn't need it."

The exhibit displays a number of actual garments: hoop skirts, lace girdles, stockings and camisoles. Kids visiting the exhibit can try on a small version of 1700s-era panniers.

Men's undergarments are reflected in vintage advertisements, such as one from a 1902 Sears and Roebuck catalog with a proud stout wealthy man, titled "Underwear for Fat Men," described as "made from finest Egyptian yarn" with "fancy collarette neck, pearl buttons, and ribbed cuffs." However, as men's underthings -- union suits and long johns -- have tended toward the plain and utilitarian, the museum had a difficult time tracking down any men's garments. "I think they just wore them out," Klehr said.

Women seem to have done a better job of preserving their cherished underthings, which they adorned with pretty ribbons or decorated with handmade lace.

Even though it was something so rarely exposed, "it would still look pretty," said Klehr. "That's what's kind of fun."

Liz Rolfsmeier is a Minneapolis freelance writer.

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LIZ ROLFSMEIER