The Liquid Pearl
If you were a Victorian lady, you were not out to get a tan in the summer - or indeed at any time. No, you wanted to have a pale complexion, not because it was healthier to stay out of the sun, but because it made you look "interesting" and ethereal and delicate. If you were the bolder sort, you might want to get your face enameled. Not amazing for the pores, but you certainly did look pale and - quite interesting.
Face enamel was a dangerous cosmetic, the main ingredients of which were either arsenic or white lead - so you were either putting poison or house paint on your skin. George Ellington writes in 1869 in The Women of New York that a chiropodist on Broadway was offering face and bust enamling in his "studio." After de-fuzzing the selected areas of hair "with liniment, plaster, medicated soap scissors or tweezers" (no waxing in the Victorian era, of course), the face and chest were "coated with a fine enamel...An ordinary coating will last for a day or two, but to render the operation of permanent value, the process must be repeated once or twice a week." And the price of this horrible procedure? The temporary enamel (lasting 1-2 days) cost about $15; if you wanted to keep your face and bust white for six months, it was going to cost you between $400 and $600 - which was more than most people's yearly salaries.
Ellington goes on to say that if you wanted to save that yearly salary and proceed with some DIY painting, there were plenty of enamels or "French pastes" that you could put on your face at home. For example, Champlain's Liquid Pearl and Laird's Bloom of Youth, another so-called "liquid pearl," were face-whitening pastes based on chalk - slightly safer than that white lead or arsenic. In 1883, the Michigan Pharmaceutical Association, of all places, gave the recipes for Liquid Pearl - both the Champlain and Laird versions - in their Proceedings (p, 256). And they both sound really quite alarming:
"Champlain's Liquid Pearl. - Oxychloride of bismuth ("pearl white") and drop chalk, in highly perfumed water."
"Laird's Bloom of Youth, or Liquid Pearl. - Oxide of zinc (zinc white) and carbonate of calcium (as some grade of chalk) in perfumed water."
So basically powdered chalk in perfumed water, with a little extra zinc or bismuth thrown in.
Endorsed By Actresses
Ellington noted that "theater and opera folk" liked face enamel - and they also liked Liquid Pearl. In the 1888 ad on your right, several famous actresses of the day are quoted endorsing Liquid Pearl.
The singer Adelina Patti, probably the most famous of the ladies in the ad, ordered "five dozen" bottles. Fanny Januschek (a Czech actress best known for her portrayal of Lady Dedlock in Chesney Wold , a play based on Dickens' Bleak House ) liked it, saying "I find it far superior to the one I generally bring over from Paris" - praising both the cosmetic and drawing attention to the fact that she jaunts over to Paris and buys fancy creams there.
My favorite endorsement is that of the glum looking Mrs. D.P. Bowers. Born Elizabeth Crocker, she was known for playing roles such as Hamlet's mother and the blonde criminal Lady Audley in Lady Audley's Secret (a fabulous sensation novel by Mary Elizabeth Braddon, which I ought to write a hub about).
Dear Mrs. Bowers is rather low-key - not the ordinary gushing quote about how she must have cases and cases of Liquid Pearl shipped to her at once, No, Elizabeth Bowers is being cautious - just in case the stuff makes her break out or otherwise messes up her complexion. She says she finds Liquid Pearl "eminently satisfactory...and apparently free from injurious effects."
This was probably very wise.
Queen Alexandra Did It, Too
- The Virtual Dime Museum: The Eminent Tragedienne and Gouraud\'s Oriental Cream
Mrs. Bowers also liked Gouraud's cosmetics - here's a post I wrote about her (and them) on my history blog.
- Cosmetics and Skin
More on face enamel, and what Alexandra did to stay looking youthful.