
(Met Museum)
When it comes to Victorian fashion, it is often difficult to choose a favourite year—or even a favourite decade. The romantic gowns of the 1830s vie with the enormous crinolines of the 1860s which, in turn, rival the sleek, bustled skirts of the 1870s. As someone who researches and writes extensively on historical fashion, choosing the year in which to set my new romance novel, The Lost Letter, had as much to do with the style of dress as it did with other considerations. In today’s post, we take a brief look at some of the styles which were popular in 1860, the year in which The Lost Letter begins.
At the beginning of my novel, the heroine, Sylvia Stafford, is a governess. As such, she is not able to afford fashionable dresses, nor would it be appropriate for her to wear them in her position. Instead, much of the women’s fashion shown in the early part of The Lost Letter is expressed through the hero’s sister, Julia, Viscountess Harker. When Julia first appears, she is wearing a visiting dress with flounced skirts worn over a wire crinoline of “truly magnificent proportions.”
How magnificent? During 1860, ladies’ skirts reached their maximum size of the century. Skirts stood out from the body over wire crinolines, the hemlines sometimes reaching as much as 10-15 feet in circumference. Adding to their impressive size, many fashionable dresses featured skirts with rows of puffs, pleats, and anywhere from one to as many as ten flounces. One or two rows of puffs or flounces, like those shown on the dress at right in the fashion plate below, could be quite lovely and were often seen on both day and evening dresses.

(Met Museum)
More heavily flounced skirts could also be quite pretty. In the 1860 fashion plate below, the lady at the far right is wearing a taffeta walking dress with ten flounces, each one bordered by a row of velvet.

(Accessible Archives)
The enormous skirts of 1860 were coupled with equally impressive pagoda sleeves. Worn narrow at the shoulder, they widened as they descended toward the wrist and were generally paired with false undersleeves made of muslin or lace. You can see examples of pagoda sleeves in the fashion plates above, as well as a more detailed image below.

(Met Museum)
Sleeves with wide, decorative cuffs were also quite popular, especially in riding habits. In The Lost Letter, Sylvia borrows a riding costume from Julia which features a fitted jacket bodice and stylish mousquetaire cuffs. Inspired by styles worn by seventeenth and eighteenth century musketeers, cuffs à la mousquetaire were fashionable in both the 1850s and early 1860s. They opened at the side, forming a sharp point. A similar style of sleeve can be seen on the riding costume shown in the fashion plate below.

Plain dresses, like the dark-coloured silks and woolens worn by Sylvia throughout much of the novel, were not the sort that one might find in fashion magazines of the day. Fortunately, artists of the Victorian era often depicted women in more humble garments in their paintings. It was to these which I turned for inspiration in writing descriptions of Sylvia’s clothing. No paintings were precisely exact, but you should be able to get the basic idea of Sylvia’s dresses from the ones I’ve included below.

(Victoria and Albert Museum)

(Private Collection)

(Walters Art Museum)
Keep in mind that governesses, and other Victorian women on a tight budget, would not be wearing the latest fashions. Instead, they would often wear older gowns which were made up to look like new. Old fabrics could be dyed and trimmings could be replaced. Detachable collars and cuffs were another inexpensive way to spruce up a drab gown, as well as a practical one. When soiled, they could easily be removed and washed..
In the coming weeks I plan to have a few more posts on fashion, etiquette, and other historical topics specific to the setting of my upcoming novel. I’m a terrible saleswoman, so I’ll just say that, if you haven’t yet pre-ordered your copy of The Lost Letter, I very much hope you will do so! It’s my debut historical romance and I can’t wait to share it with you all.
Oh yes, I so love 19th century woman’s fashion. Simply extraordinary and even in northern India, anything current in England or Paris was quickly copied by Indian derzi’s who within a day, could draft patterns and stitch meticulously the latest designs.
It’s always fascinating to see how far reaching the influence of French fashion was in the Victorian era, especially during the time of the Empress Eugenie. I don’t think we have any comparable fashion icons today who set the style as she did back then.
On the strength of your fascinating blog articles I have twice tried to pre order your book on Amazon UK but both times I got Operation Cancelled, the page failed to load. I love your historical accuracy – of course, you are a historian. And I can’t understand the many writers who want to write historical novels but don’t want to do any historical research. Yesterday I was quite enjoying one book until someone handed over a pound in the form of ten shillings. I know English currency is weird, and used to be even weirder, but it doesn’t take… Read more »
Thank you so much for your kind words, Jane :) I have no idea what could be going on with Amazon UK. How frustrating! And I know what you mean about novels with historical inaccuracies. If I am reading something and one of the historical facts is wrong, it pulls me right out of the story.
My grandmother explained “turning” a dress to me. All or part of the dress would be un-sewn. If, for example the fabric was a crepe backed satin, the side previously on the outside would become the new ‘wrong’ side. Sometimes a stained skirt panel would be shifted to a different position to become less obvious. It sounded like a lot of work to me, being young and silly as I was. She explained that the only new expense was time and possibly some new trim, not the cost of all the fabric. A creative needle-woman all her life, she always… Read more »
Thanks for your comment, Adrian. How lucky you were to learn so much from your grandmother about sewing! She was too right about the major expense in remaking a dress being time. It really did save money. And for some ladies, especially those during the American Civil War, remaking old dresses was the only way to have anything “new.”
I really don’t think I’d actually want to wear one of those magnificent dresses, but they’re certainly lovely to admire in paintings and illustrations!
I agree with you, Wendy :) I enjoy being comfortable too much to wear corsets and crinolines all day, but I do love looking at Victorian dresses!
If I had a maid of all work to keep the house tidy, I don’t think that I would mind “dressing” each day. As it is there are several dresses that are Empire inspired cotton which serve as my day dresses. Being house bound, I try to find such things to lift my spirits.
Empire dresses are so much more comfortable, aren’t they? I think the intimidating thing about some of the Victorian silhouettes is the tight-lacing. Then again, not all corsets were as uncomfortable as they’ve been made out. Some could be quite supportive.
As always, delightful post. Would love to travel back in time and wear one of these gowns if just for an evening.
I’m glad you enjoyed it, Jeanne :) I would love to wear one of those gowns for an evening, too.
Is it wrong that I prefer the dress of the woman in Palm Sunday?
I love that one, too. It’s very Jane Eyre!