 | Saratoga in 1901 |  |
GOING TO PARTIES IN 1901
Great changes had taken place in going to parties since 1872.
The old idea of dressing and going to parties, got to be a bore.
The idea of going to five parties a week, from December to Lent,
was hearing to constitutions, and a source of great trouble and
expense. So I found they had hit upon the idea of going to a
party in imagination.
I found the new idea was for the young ladies to remain at
home, and go through the ceremony of going to a party, without
being compelled to submit to its most “borish” features. It
only took two young ladies to carry out the idea, with the aid of
a little cigar smoke from “Cousin Tom.”
This is the way the young ladies did it:—They spent the
usual two days previous to the imagined party with a dressmaker
—that is, were squeezed and laced, and lived up stairs during that
time in figured morning wrappers, seeing no one but mother, the
chambermaid, and beli-boy.
On the afternoon of the party (in imagination), the hair-dresser
came with hot irons, pulled the hair-pins out of her front-hair,
and dressed hair generally. She pulled it, singed it, burned
forehead, and made her feel dry and uncomfortable. Then
came the powdering and dressing, which commenced at six and
ended at nine
Young lady now flops into a chair, tears two pairs of gloves,
frets, scolds her sister, and has hysterics because Charley don't
come. Alas! Charley is only a clerk, on $1,500 a year, and
how can he afford a carriage? So Charley is taken sick—in
imagination; but, in reality, Charley has smuggled himself off
alone to another party.
Now the young ladies, having finished their toilets, come down
stairs. They stand in the hall a moment, while Charley opens
the door to look for the carriage. Then they promenade through
the parlors.
Now they go into the back hall, and black-boy dips out ice-cold
lemonade. Then they stand around in corners, step on
each other's dresses, spoil $2.50 gloves on fifty-cent bouquets,
tread on each other's toes, tear off a flounce or two, tread on
each other's toes some more, and then (in imagination) go down
to supper. Being a little late, they only find a place to stand in
one corner of the hall. Then young ladies close eyes, and
imagine this scene.
Charley hands stewed oysters over people's heads. Old
Thompson drops boned-turkey on her back, and clumsy literary
man spills ice-cream down low-neck dress.
Ough! (Wakes up.)
Closes eyes again, and imagines.
Takes salad in one hand, glass of champagne in the other, and
holds up dress with elbows!
Dress falls, and nice oily salad slumps down on gaslight green
silk! Stands on one foot a little while, then on the other, then
leans on Charley. (Awful tired.)
Drinks part of a glass of champagne, and Charley pours the
rest on dress in the corner. Poke each other in the ribs, tread
on each other's toes some more, and then squeeze through
oyster and ice-cream plates towards stairway. Champagne cork
flies and breaks eye-glass.
Crack! Fizz!!
Wakes up, and goes up-stairs.
Sister squeezes her hands till they are red, then holds brother
Charley's greasy crushed hat against back of lavender silk.
Tears her dress some more, and jams against sister. Now
embrace with arms around waist (à la round dances), and stand
over hot register till in a glow of perspiration, then go and sit
on the stairs in a draft. Wind feels good on bare neck. Sister
sits on dress on stair in front, and makes silly speeches about
Fred Hart's divine dancing. Dishes up Lizzie Smith a little.
Then sister squeezes hand on the sly.
Now goes up-stairs. Gets brother John to puff tobacco-smoke
in hall, like Sexton Brown's boys.
Brother John says:
“My dear, th' cov'nor's champ's very good—hic! ain't't?”
Goes and stands on balcony in cold, waiting for carriage (in
imagination). Comes back, goes up-stairs. Tired and fagged
out. Head aches, cold bed, hungry, bad dreams.
Next morning, eyes red, hair burnt, dress ruined, gloves
soiled, heel off kid-boot.
Oh dear!
Now what an improvement on the old way of going to a
party in 1872. Just as well to have all your fun in imagination
at home, and save carriage hire. Isn't it?”
| Saratoga in 1901 | |