Decent: Spanx and pointy stilettos may hurt, but they have nothing on the pain — or danger — of 19th century clothing

From the time I first threw one of my mother's lace curtains over my head to pretend to be a bride, I’ve always loved dressing up. So when I heard about Naper Settlement's latest exhibition, I couldn't wait to take a look.

"Infrastructure: Creating 19th Century Clothing Then and Now" features dozens of garments and accessories from the collections of the Naperville Heritage and the Winnetka Historical societies. At the center of the exhibit is a fabric scrapbook that belonged to early Naperville resident Hannah Ditzler Alspaugh in which she documents 50 years of fashion history starting with the Civil War.

Although you can't help but notice the beautiful crinoline dresses when you first enter the display, I was initially drawn to something else. While it was no surprise to see a beautiful satin corset in a glass case, it was the reproduced poster above it that caught my eye. Not only did it advertise a company from London, but a corset that was electric!

Remembering that scene in "Gone with the Wind" where Scarlett insists Mammy lace up her corset so tight that her waist measures 18 inches, I didn't question the idea. I assumed the wearer simply plugged it in and it squeezed you in. Always on the lookout for ways to improve my figure, I decided to investigate.

Beautiful vintage-style clothing made for TimeLine Theatre Company productions, far easier to wear than had they been made in the 1800s, are on display at the new "Infrastructure: Creating 19th Century Clothing Then and Now" exhibition at Naper Settlement in Naperville. (Naper Settlement/HANDOUT)

Apparently, the corset wasn't designed to give women those tiny waists at all. Although it was branded as electric, it was actually magnetic, containing a steel husk. The inventor, a furniture salesman, jeweler and so-called "medical electrician," was nothing more than a quack who claimed the electric corset could cure everything from indigestion to weak backs.

That said, it's no wonder wealthy Victorian women needed help dressing. From the inside out they wore pantaloons or bloomers, hooped petticoats, corsets, liberty bodices and bustles, and that was before putting on a dress. And don't get me started on buttoning up the boots. Can you imagine if we did all that now?

"Won't be long, I’m just getting dressed."

"Ok, I’ll pop back in three hours."

"Better make it three and a half, just to be sure."

Life is so much easier today, even if you choose to wiggle into a pair of Spanx before pulling up your track suit bottoms and pushing your feet into a pair of Ugg boots. As for Victorian wizardry, I wonder what they would make of the new Skechers you can just slip your feet into without even bending over?

The clothes may look gorgeous, but they aren't comfortable to wear. All that sucked in fat has to go somewhere, and that's not the most dangerous thing about them. It turns out Victorians made a lot of poor choices when deciding how to get the best out of their designs.

Until I visited the exhibition, I thought the Mad Hatter was just a whimsical character created by Lewis Carroll. What I didn't know was that 17th century milliners would use mercury to separate animal hairs from the skin. Sometimes they’d even put the mercury soaked felt in their mouths to make it more pliable. It was this practice that led to the expression "mad as a hatter" because the long-term effects included mental instability.

What woman doesn't love to wear a vibrant shade of green? Unfortunately, the dye used in Victorian fabrics commonly contained arsenic. While the wearer would usually suffer skin irritations at worst, seamstresses could end up with horrible sores.

I also learned that some animals were hurt in the making of these clothes. One of my favorite items of Victorian attire are the stunning hats, from neat velvet, beaded pillboxes with tiny veils to lavish, wide extravaganzas adorned with feathers and bows. I always thought any colorful bird added to a headpiece was simply made of fabric, but with taxidermy at the height of popularity, a bird in the hand was apparently worth two on the brim.

I’d like to think with today's wisdom none of us would wear ridiculous items that cause us pain and suffering. But if that were true, we’d all be living in oversized sweats and slippers. I dread buying new shoes because I know I’m going to need to "break them in" before they’re comfortable. While there's no business like shoe business, one of their best kept secrets is regardless of how they feel in the store, the minute you get them home, the heel will rub or the toe will pinch.

It was also interesting to be reminded of how the clothes were made. Isaac Singer produced the first commercial sewing machine in 1851. A century later, my mother used a somewhat newer model to make clothes for my sister and me.

Clothes from the 1800s on display as part of Naper Settlement's new exhibition, "Infrastructure: Creating 19th Century Clothing Then and Now," were not only difficult to wear but potentially dangerous, depending on the materials and dyes used. (Naper Settlement/HANDOUT)

If I had kept a fabric scrapbook like Hannah Ditzler Alspaugh, it would have included the blue-and-white floral cotton that Mum used to make me a Laura Ashley-style dress in the ‘70s and a snazzy purple silk for a shirtwaist dress in the early ‘80s.

Despite my best endeavors, all her sewing genes ended up with my sister. I was so bad that when I had to make a blouse in school, it was literally two squares of polka-dot cotton sewn together at the shoulders and sides. I couldn't even sew a dart. The only way I’m ever going to make my own clothes when it becomes possible with a 3D printer.

The exhibition concludes with an interesting look at theatrical costumes, which by necessity are easier to put on today than the originals were back in the 1800s. They’re truly the best way to dress like a Victorian, although there's a lot to be said for the original fabrics.

On the way out of the exhibit, I took one last look at a brown dress trimmed with lace and velvet. It was then I noticed the mannequin was standing in front of an old lace net curtain. I wonder if girls in the 1800s dressed up in them like I did as a child...

Naper Settlement's "Infrastructure: Creating 19th Century Clothing Then and Now" exhibit can be viewed for free by Naperville residents through Nov. 3. Nonresidents .

Hilary Decent is a freelance journalist who moved to Naperville from England in 2007.

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