X: Women and Ornamentation

I KNOW I am now on dangerous ground. I can only hope that my readers will hold their feelings in check until they have finished this chapter. Then they will see that I am their friend.

An Irish girl who had returned to the Old Country from America some years ago, opened the eyes of her former companions by her dress and looks. What most astonished them was her ability to have cheeks and hair of far finer hue than graced her before crossing the ocean. Gradually the secret leaked out.

At first everybody was shocked. But one or two girls got the idea that it was not so bad after all. If they could wear fancy gloves to bedeck their hands, why could they not bleach their hair or color their cheeks to improve their looks?

The necessity of dealing with the subject of this chapter may appear from the following regulation issued by the office of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad to its several hundred clerks and stenographers: “Skirts shall be a modest length—the interpretation of the term modest to be at the discretion of the head of the woman’s welfare bureau. No more rouge whatsoever, and powder to be used only in moderation.” One or two tried it, but their mothers made short work of their logic.

However, a certain girl who was altogether unattractive, if not positively homely, had a strong desire to try the new art of ornamentation. She had a scruple about its being sinful. Like a good girl in doubt, she asked her confessor if it was sinful to paint. The priest had no notion of any kind of painting going on in his parish except house painting, and so he said:

“What's that, Mary, I did not understand you.”

Hesitatingly, she repeated: “Is it sinful to paint, Father?”

“Why, no, my child,” he replied. “Sure, your father and brother have been painters these many years.”

“I don’t mean that kind of painting,” she said.

“Well, what kind do you mean, Mary?”

“I mean painting yourself, Father.”

The priest reflected a moment, and then said slyly, with a look which indicated that he realized that she was very homely: “It is not a sin for you to paint, Mary.”

That was enough for Mary. She never gave painting another thought.

Painting is an admission of its need. We do not paint oak. Cheap wood may require painting. Fine wood only requires polishing. Be as clean as you like. But do not paint. Before you “tut tut,” and say that I am talking of something I know nothing about, hear me out, please.

I know all the reasons that women give to justify painting. The best reason I have heard is that of a married woman, who must go out with her husband when she is fatigued and wants to appear presentable for his sake. Well, Mrs. Married Woman, ask your husband, since it is for his sake you do it, if he wants you to paint for his sake. That is my reply to such persons. Since when has it become a discredit to be weary or less than perfect in health?

Others justify painting by the requirements of dress. They say that, to wear the prevailing styles, which are all fashioned for those not on in years, it is necessary to be youthful. Girlish dress and faded or wrinkled cheeks do not match. But since when has it become necessary for a matron to be dressed as a maiden? or for an elderly woman to be garbed as a school-girl?

“Nonsense, nonsense,” I hear you say, “stick to your own affairs, and let the women manage theirs.” Well, let us see. You will admit that this is very much an affair of mine, when I tell you that I have seen more homes wrecked by false impressions created by artificial appearances, than by almost any other single cause.

Let me exemplify. Take a young woman whose beauty plays an important part in winning a man’s regard. Even if that beauty is genuine, it is a poor basis for married happiness. But suppose that her beauty is artificial! Suppose that when she becomes his wife, she appears plain and ordinary without her veneer! Her husband has been tricked by camouflage! He has gotten a counterfeit! He married her for her looks; his so-called love is changed into disgust, and then trouble begins.

If you buy and pay for an oak table, and find that it is only painted pine, you will be incensed. You will send back the table and claim your money. A Catholic man cannot send back his painted wife! We hear a lot about incompatibility nowadays, and cruelty, and neglect. In many cases, the wife has brought it on herself by her pre-marriage deceptions.

I beg a young woman who is contemplating marriage to avoid even the slightest deception. Either she is naturally attractive to the young man, or she is not. If she is, she does not need deceptive aids. If she is not, she is like a merchant disposing of goods under false pretenses. I beg of her not to create a mistaken notion in the man who will be intimately associated with her all her life.

Now it is evident why it is my business to touch on this matter. Peace and welfare here are concerned, and too often, eternal welfare also. For pre-marriage deception may be the cause of sinful accusations and quarrels, and not infrequently of life-long estrangements.

Whatever a man’s response to a painted face may be, deep in his heart he has an aversion to it. The girl who paints loses some of his respect. I have heard men talk on this matter. Moreover, since a man knows that painting is generally an indication that a woman is older than she cares to admit, he wonders whether she is concealing not only years but defects. A painted face makes a man suspicious.

So much in regard to the effect of the painted woman on men, when they know from other sources that she is a good woman. If they do not know her very well, they may easily put her in the class with those who use paint as an aid to their vile profession.

Sometimes you will hear girls justify painting by saying that people in society do it. Believe me, young women, the ladies of real society do not do it. I have had opportunity of observing women at social functions in circles of culture, and the women who painted were the exceptions. That some society women dress immodestly, and paint and bleach, does not mean that true society sanctions it. Moreover, since when has the code of society replaced the code of Christianity ?

Women may say that they paint in order to be pleasing to men. A poor compliment to men. Moreover the way some women paint is a sin against art. It is as if a house-painter attempted a portrait. But, it may be said, should not a woman aim at being beautiful for the sake of the aesthetic demands of social affairs? A woman may use every legitimate means of dress and ornamentation to set off her beauty, but she should not parade under false colors. The lily may be placed in an artistic setting, but a painted lily!

Painting is vulgar at its best. It is an admission of fading charms even when it is done artistically, and when not so done it is disgusting. I know that many girls do not look upon it in this way. Their opinions are taken from the crowd.

In the long run painting defeats the very purpose it has in view. Painted beauties become old before their time. We cannot trifle with nature with impunity. And oh, the tragedy of a girl caught off guard, without the chance of getting at her paint pot!

Besides, some girls owe their ruin to paint. Men are apt to be bold with painted beauties. A painted girl is more or less an invitation to license, to men who meet her casually. I heard a woman complain to a policeman that a man was staring her out of countenance. He looked at her for a moment, and said: “Madam, you invite it.” And she did, by her painted face and her abbreviated dress.

In dealing with this matter so far, I have spoken on grounds of good taste and welfare. A word < now to young women as Catholics.

Of all women whose appearance should conform to the most proper standards, Catholics should be conspicuous. Let those who have no religion, or very little, use the arts that deceive and mislead, and very often tempt to sin. But a Catholic woman should keep aloof from any such artifices.

Sometimes you will hear Catholic girls or — mothers say that they have got to dress in the fashion and follow the lead of society people or give up social aspirations. Let me narrate an experience of my own.

I was asked to go on a sick call to a fashionable hotel some fifteen miles from a railway station. When I had administered the last Sacraments, and performed my duties, it was early evening, and my host, the father of the sick man, informed me that the next train would not start for five hours.

Accordingly, I dined with him at the hotel. He was a Catholic gentleman, with whom I had frequently discussed vital matters of religion. That very day on our way from the station, we had talked of the free ways into which some of our Catholic women were drifting. He agreed with me that the tendency was a decided shame.

At dinner with him, I was shocked more than once by the style of dress and the painted faces of women who entered the dining-room. I mentioned my observations to my host and said,

“Isn’t it too bad that you people in society set such an example of impropriety?”

To my astonishment, he replied: “Father, believe me, not one of these women painted and dressed so unbecomingly, belong to society. We have an outside element here tonight, from a neighboring town,—because we have an open dance.” He proceeded to inform me that the guests of the hotel were nearly all people in society —-strictly so-called. By observing from whom the waiters collected the bill for dinner, one could tell who were the guests, and who were the visitors from the neighboring towns for the dance of the evening. I found that in every case but two, the painted and objectionally dressed women were at tables where the bill was paid.

“You see, Father, that the society people here are not the offenders. Real society people, for the sake of good form, are just as careful of propriety as the strictest Catholics. By that I do not mean that society has not its sins, as has the rest of the world, but anything that is against what we call good form is more shocking to us than to anyone else.”

I suggested that perhaps the standard of good form was at fault. To this he remarked that there were fools in society as elsewhere, and that unfortunately they and their doings sometime gave a wrong notion of society to those not of it. If a society lady paints or dresses lasciviously, society itself very often gets the censure which belongs to an individual, and for something which society condemns as much as anybody else.

I told my host that I was extremely interested in his observations, because I knew so many Catholics who were society people and who were also among the best Catholics of my acquaintance. F

He answered sadly, “Yes, Father, but let me say also, that some of the worst offenders in the matters we speak of are certain Catholics who think that they are conforming to society by aping its most discreditable representatives.”

I quite understood, and said that I too had observed how social climbers copy the vices rather than the virtues of the set which they were trying to enter. My host replied by calling my attention to two guests who were among the offenders.

“They are, I am sorry to say, breaking into society; they are Catholics and I am not alone in being ashamed of them.”

People who ape others are apt to go to extremes. Afterwards, I saw other things which went to prove that the best way to get on socially is to be true to good form, and that the best of good form is the Catholic standard. I could go into detail in regard to this statement, but I prefer not to. Suffice it to say, that the best thing in life is to be always at your best, but your genuine best.

A wise merchant displays his goods to advantage, but he does not sell cotton for wool. A woman who paints is passing herself off for what she is not. If we get counterfeit money, we are angry on discovering the fraud. If a man gets a counterfeit beauty will he not be angered and disgusted when he realizes the deception?

The girl who paints to win her future husband cannot keep herself painted always. If a woman wants to win a man for a few hours only, paint may be of service to her. But for an honest and honorable woman to paint is, apart from religion, bad policy.

Either a woman is badly in need of painting or she is not. If she does not need it, let her avoid it. And young people generally do not need artificial color. If women need to paint, it is a sign that their health is bad or that accumulating years are treating them harshly. In either case, the best paint is exercise and moderation.

For paint really deceives no one. Age can be judged by other things than looks, and a woman who looks younger than she is, invites close inspection. Thus the signs of age are discerned beneath their covering of cosmetics. Paint always makes men suspect the worst and leads them to consider the woman much older or more invalided or homelier than she really is.

Catholics, thank God, have for the most part set a splendid example of propriety. So much so is this the case, that people now expect only the best from Catholics. In fact, they are shocked if they see Catholics conforming to some of the vulgar ways which are prevalent. That in itself is a great compliment.

Catholic women should remember that they represent their Religion. People will form their estimate of the Catholic Church not by its teaching, which they do not know, but from Catholics whom they know and see. Deep down in their hearts, people will respect and envy those who take a stand which they themselves admire but are often too weak to uphold.

Besides, and above all, proper Catholic women know that they are doing what God wants. With them His approval is everything. For in the end it is His approval alone which will matter.