Unsung icons: Dressing tables When life was all about elegance
COMEDIAN DAVID SMIEDT TAKES AN IRREVERENT, BUT APPRECIATIVE, LOOK AT THE CLASSIC THINGS THAT DEFINE YOU-BEAUT AUSSIE LIFE
REMEMBER HOW ENORMOUS your parents’ bedroom seemed when you were a kid? It was a vast tundra of wall-to-wall Wilton from which arose two monoliths. The first was a bed so capacious that it could easily accommodate two generations, several pets and what seemed like dozens of opportunities for your mum to use phrases like “sham” and “scatter cushions”.
The second was the dressing table. In a space today occupied by tallboys and widescreens, the dressing table could run the gamut from simple, one-mirrored pine affairs to extravagantly lacquered, curlicue-bedecked, thrice-mirrored extravaganzas so OTT they would have made Thomas Chippendale calm the farm. If you wanted to go really #fancy, you could even get a dedicated stool or chair bedecked in satin. Just like Liz Taylor would probably have used.
The dressing table contained myriad drawers and, in one, there invariably nestled a set of Clairol hot rollers. Resembling a part leftover from Darth Vader, these Bakelite behemoths were powered by electricity, and their toothy plastic denizens gave birth to a generation’s worth of big-haired tributes to Charlie’s Angels. So prized were these items that they sometimes took pride of place on the tabletop surface, as this is where the truly treasured and utterly indulgent belonged. There was Oil Of Olay Essence; the very last dregs of a bottle of Chanel No 5; atomisers of finely cut glass complete with squeeze mechanisms; massive tins of talcum powder filigreed with English pastoral scenes; and mother-of-pearl manicure sets. There were lotions and potions, unguents and depilatories… Hogwarts by way of Pond’s Cold Cream.
To one side, you’d often discover an exquisitely rendered brush and comb set, clad in either silver plate or enamel, or a combination of the two. Before the term began to be applied to tomatoes, these were genuine heirlooms. Designed to last decades and having acquired the delicious patina that only age can provide, the bristles and teeth teased and twirled a cavalcade of coiffures that ran from flappers to bobbysoxers, beehives to bobs and Twiggy specials.
For the most part, dressing tables and the items that adorned them were built with the long game in mind. They were yearned and budgeted for, rationalised on the basis they would be used with care and spare. It was an ethos mirrored in the items often found within close proximity – think shoe lasts and dumb valets. Aside from possessing such aesthetic charm that hipsters are now using them for decoration, the first added years to the life of footwear, while the second kept trousers and sports coats immaculately pressed.
In the era before fast fashion, we didn’t require walk-in wardrobes. Why would anyone want 16 pairs of shoes and cashmere in every colour? You only had two feet and one torso. Sure, items cost more way back then, but with a little elbow grease they’d still look good in the future. As would you, with enough time at the dressing table.
For following generations, dressing tables might be seen as an exercise in vanity. Hours spent preening and pouting… and for what? Well, if you put your phone down for half a second, we’ll tell you. The dressing table was less about vanity than about elegance – a chance to present your best face to the world and take some time out of a day where women were paid less and did more of the housework.
What’s more, you might have your picture taken that day or in the evening down the bowlo. These opportunities arose maybe a dozen times a year, so looking one’s best was mandatory. Unlike the selfie demographic for whom pictures are as natural and essential as breathing. Guess every generation has its own looking glass, and at least you didn’t have to scroll through what anyone else saw reflected in their dressing-table mirror.
DRESSING TABLES WERE yearned AND BUDGETED FOR, RATIONALISED ON THE BASIS THEY WOULD BE USED WITH care AND spare