ass, pounds of clothing hung on the
hips, the limbs cramped with skirts, and with high heels the whole
woman thrown out of her true equilibrium. Wise men, physicians, and
sensible women, made their appeals, year after year; physiologists
lectured on the subject; the press commented, until it seemed as if
there were a serious demand for some decided steps, in the direction
of a rational costume for women. The most casual observer could see
how many pleasures young girls were continually sacrificing to their
dress: In walking, running, rowing, skating, dancing, going up and
down stairs, climbing trees and fences, the airy fabrics and flowing
skirts were a continual impediment and vexation. We can not estimate
how large a share of the ill-health and temper among women is the
result of the crippling, cribbing influence of her costume. Fathers,
husbands, and brothers, all joined in protest against the small waist,
and stiff distended petticoats, which were always themes for unbounded
ridicule. But no sooner did a few brave conscientious women adopt the
bifurcated costume, an imitation in part of the Turkish style, than
the press at once turned its guns on "The Bloomer," and the same
fathers, husbands, and brothers, with streaming eyes and pathetic
tones, conjured the women of their households to cling to the
prevailing fashions.[85] The object of those who donned the new
attire, was primarily health and freedom; but as the daughter of
Gerrit Smith introduced it just at the time of the early conventions,
it was supposed to be an inherent element in the demand for political
equality. As some of those who advocated the right of suffrage wore
the dress, and had been identified with all the unpopular reforms, in
the reports of our conventions, the press rung the changes on
"strong-minded," "Bloomer," "free love," "easy divorce,"
"amalgamation." I wore the dress two years and found it a great
blessing. What a sense of liberty I felt, in running up and down
stairs with my hands free to carry whatsoever I would, to trip through
the rain or snow with no skirts to hold or brush, ready at any moment
to climb a hill-top to see the sun go down, or the moon rise, with no
ruffles or trails to be limped by the dew, or soiled by the grass.
What an emancipation from little petty vexatious trammels and
annoyances every hour of the day. Yet such is the tyranny of custom,
that to escape constant observation, criticism, ridicule,
persecution, mob