Making real pearl powder

Seed pearls

Last year I started to make real pearl powder, but at the time I lived at our summerhouse for several weeks as the plumbing was renovated in our apartment, so I made it and then forgot about it. So, finally, here is the result.

I used real pearls, but the small and irregular kind that is called seed pearls. As that was the kind of pearls that apothecary's kept in the 18th century for medical purposes, it seems exceedingly likely that they were used to make pearl powder as well. Nowadays you find seed pearls in hobby stores and I bought the smallest amount possible for my experiment. I put them in a small bottle and poured enough vinegar on top of them to cover them. Here I made a mistake and took apple cider vinegar instead. Though I poured it away and took real vinegar, a slight discolouration remained.

Almost at once flakes of nacre could be seen floating around in the vinegar and the pearls noticeably shrunk over the next couple of days and the holes in them were enlarged and more and more nacre could be seen in the vinegar. Then it stopped, or so I thought. I poured in some more vinegar and nothing seemed to happen for a day or two and then I noticed that the pearls were floating in the vinegar! Upon examination I realised that the pearls were completely hollowed out and only a thin layer of nacre remained! When I pressed down on one it felt like it does when you press down on a boiled pea and I ended up with peal mush on my finger. So I poured everything in a mortle and mushed them all throughoutly, put it all in a bowl and let the vinegar evaporate.

As you can see it behaved quite funnily, climbing up on the walls on the bowl. Good thing, actually, because the discolouration emigrated to the top. Though it looked solid, the pearl powder was really very brittle, so I just broke off the discoloured parts. The surface was a bit shiny in a satiny way, but inside the peal powder was just white. This suprised me a bit as I had expected it to be pearlescent. After reducing it to a powder it became a somewhat satiny white, but I found that when I pressed down on it, pearlescent glints could be seen. It was very subtle and I couldn't manage to capture that on a photo.

At this point I had been able to obtain readymade pearl powder and upon testing I found that the one I had made was virtually impossible to tell apart from the one I had bought. A bit of a relief, actually, because the home made pearl powder is so full of vinegar that I would never put it on my face. I'm really pleased that it turned out to be possibly to make pearl powder yourself, but I won't be doing it again. The bought pearl powder is so close and much better to use (no vinegar) that I will stick to that.

Here you can see how alike the both pearl powders are. I mixed powder with an equal part of water and it turned into a semi-opaque whiteness. You can see the pearlescent glints at all. Alongside is Bismuth and it is very easy to see why the literature says that even if this was called pearl powder as well, it has a completely different look. It is much more shiny, but a lot less white. Almost impossible to see is a version of Nun's cream that I made with real pearl powder. The ratio here is one part powder to two parts pomade and it doesn't show up much at all. It is more visible in reality than on the photo, but it only whitens the skin slightly, though it evens out the skin very well. I think it is quite light-reflecting, even if the nacre isn't visible, it is still there.

The amount of whiteness a pigment leave on the skin is partly due to the pigment, but also on how much you use. Even after brushing my test areas with a powder brush, the pearl powder stayed on quite well, though it is not very opaque. In the future I need to test all my white pigments to see how they compare to each other, but here and now I can just say that I find it interesting that pearl powder, which was the most exclusive white pigment you could buy, doesn't leave a very opaque whiteness.

I still need to mix up pearl powder with liquid and try, but last week I had the opportunity to try the Nun's cream when I made up my friend Anna as part on the entertainment at a big party my 18th century society held. I was allowed to put my stuff on a bona fide 18th century vanity table, which was quite exiting! The Nun's cream did brighten Anna's complexion and she looked slightly paler, but she didn't look overly made up with white makeup. Her rouge is the Economical rouge with Carmine as pigment and the lip paint is pigmented with Alkanet.

I also made Lithia's hair. As it is dyed a bright red, it turns pink when it is powdered with white hair powder. She is also using the Spanish white I made. Her skin is very white naturally, so the makeup just leaves her skin glowing.

I did a try on a Rococo hairdo, which I was semi-pleased with . The front is just brushed back and put up in a top-knot- preferably there would have been curls and a bit more going around here. The back was inspired by a bust of Madame Pompadour and made up in three braids that was pinned to the top knot and the ends curled. Of course I should have made sure that more pictures were taken, but I was too busy having fun.

One year and a gift

A shooting party at lunch (after the painting by Vanloo)

I was completely convinced that I started this blog in May last year, but looking back I realise that the first post came on April 27. So one year have passed. As I predicted it hasn't been a high volume blog, almost exactly one post every week. I have had a lot of fun with it and I have learned so much more on makeup history and historical cosmetics recipes and there are still so much to learn. I have, and my friends can comfirm that, became a bit obsessed with the subject and can talk about it at great lengths if I'm allowed. This summer I'm going to have some more official talks on 18th century cosmetics as well, which I look forward to.

Your input has been invaluable to me as well and I would like to take this opportunity to give something back. If you would like to get either a tin of brown Marechale powder, or white Cyprian powder, your choice, that I have made, this is your chance. They can be worn as hair powder, but also be made into scent satches. The rules are, I hope, simple:

1. Follow this blog (following the Facebook page is fine too). and make a comment, here or on FB to say so.

2. Mention this blog on your blog or on FB for an additional chance. Don't forget to come back here and add a link, though.

3. The giweaway is open worldwide.

4. The giveaway will be open until midnight, Swedish May 10.

Cyprian powder

Lady at Toilette, Utrecht school, 17th century
Click on the link for a fun article on 17th century beauty.

Today I have a 17^th century perfume recipe for you, taken from Polygraphice by William Salmon, published in 1685.

The recipe

To make Cyprian Powder.

Gather Musk moss of the Oak in December, January or Februarys wash it very clean in Rose-water, then dry it, steep it in Rose-water for two days, then dry it again, which do oftentimes: then bring it into fine Powder and fierce it: of which take one pound, Musk one ounce, Ambergrise half an ounce, Civet two drachms, yellow Sanders in powder two ounces, mix all well together in a marble mortar.

Another way to make the same.

Take of the aforesaid powder of Oak-moss one pound, Benjamin, Storax of each two ounces in fine Powder: Musk .Ambergrise and Civet of each three drachms, mix them well in a mortar.

 Breaking down the recipe

Oak moss Despite the name, this is really a lichen, Evernia prunastri, and has been used in perfumes since the Middle ages. The scent has been described as dry, woody, and smoky with a hint of tar. Used as fixatives in modern perfumes, or rather, a synthetic is, real oak moss is now forbidden, and is often used in men’s perfumes and in the perfume family that is called chypre.

Musk A common base notes in perfumery derived from glands from various animals. Today synthetic musk is almost exclusively used. Musk in large doses smells rather pungent, but diluted it is a warm, sweet and woody scent.

Ambergris A base notes in perfumery with a sweet, vanilla-ish scent with aquatic undertones. It comes from the intestines of sperm whales that habitually vomit out lumps of ambergris, which then age into scent maturity by the sea water. Though it is perfectly, even preferable, possible with ethically gathered ambergris, it is also very expensive and synthetics are almost always used today.

Civet Another animalistic base note, derived from the civet. It is similar to musk, but even more pungent concentrated and more sweet, smoky and sharp when diluted. Nowadays usually a synthetic.

Yellow sanders Wood from a tree, Zanthoxylum flavum. The scented and durable tree is on the brink of being endangered, unfortunately.

Other ingredients can be found at the ingredient list at the top of the page

My thoughts

I bought some oak moss last year and have wanted to try my hands at a Cyprian, or Cyprus powder for some time. It was a popular perfume in the 17^th and 18^th century as well as the 19^th. In the 18^th century it was popular to mix it into hair powder to scent it, but it can also be sewn into small sachets to be worn inside clothes or pockets. There are several recipes around and they are all rather alike. Unlike modern perfumes that consist of base, middle and top notes, this perfume is all base notes. Such notes are long-lasting and often quite heavy.  I’m going to make this recipe, as I have vegetal musk, civet and ambergris substitute that I want to try. It is a very easy recipe. Wash, dry, steep dry and pound. I have actually done the first steps. The oak moss is currently steeping and smells quite lovely of roses and rain wet forests.

Queen's Royal, a cosmetic mystery

Theophila Palmer Reading Clarissa by Joshua Reynolds, 1771

I have encountered a little mystery. At the very last page of Charles Lillie’s The British perfumer we find the following recipe, which completely stumps me. I have absolutely no idea what it is supposed to be used for. Lillie wrote his manuscript in the 1740’s though it wasn’t published until 1822. The publisher has kindly provided notes of enlightenment on several recipes, but not on this one.

The recipe

QUEEN'S ROYAL:

Take one ounce of brown ochre,

One ounce of vermillion,

One ounce of rose-pink,

One ounce of ivory-black,

 

Three ounces of essence of bergamot,

One and a half ounce of essence of lemon,

Half an ounce of oil of lavender.

Half an ounce of oil of carraways, A quarter of an ounce of oil of ambergris,

Half an ounce of oil of cloves,

A quarter of an ounce of oil of rosemary,

and Half an ounce of oil of cinnamon.

 

These are to be well mixed together; but care must previously be taken to reduce the first-mentioned ingredients into very fine powder.

My thoughts
The recipe is in two parts. In the first several, finely milled, pigments are mixed in brown, red, pink and black. The first three would make a reddish brown; the addition of black will make the colour darker and duller. Pigments were expensive so there must be a reason for them to be in there. They must be meant to give something colour.

The second part is purely scent. Bergamot and lemon essence with oils of lavender, caraway, ambergris, clove, rosemary and cinnamon. That’s a lot of scent and several of the oil is very strongly scented like cinnamon and clove. So this is clearly meant to smell. Mixing pigments and scent together would either give a scented pigment or a paste. It is a bit hard to say until you have tried as it depends on the ratio between powder and liquid. I lean on a paste, but I’m not sure. And what was it used for? I have a few ideas, but they are just theories.

A scented powder to make into sachets? I don’t think so. Too much valuable pigment to hide away. Had it was meant for that purpose, the scent would have been mixed with starch.

A rouge? I don’t think so either. With ¼ black pigment the shade would most likely to be too dark and unbecoming. Also, cinnamon and clove oils can sting and redden skin upon application and would be uncomfortable to have on your face.

Can in be a tinted perfume meant for hair powder? Might be, but in that case it needs to be mixed with hair powder. Now I know that 18th century recipes aren’t always constant, but the other scented powders in this book are placed together and they also have clear instruction of the ratio between scented powder and hair powder.

For tinting eyebrows? That doesn’t seem too unlikely, but why not say so? The colour could work for hair and to scent your eyebrows aren’t that far-flung, actually- I have encountered that notion elsewhere, though never in an 18th century context.

Then I got a suggestion from a friend, and, well, it doesn’t seem too unlikely. That would explain why it is tucked away at the last page and that it lacks any kind of direction. Could this be meant to rub into the hair of your nether region? It would tint it and scent it, and might that be something that would be considered attractive? I balked at the thought of cinnamon oil on those parts but I have been informed that today you can buy oils, often containing just cinnamon that are actually meant to be used down there for added stimulation. So can this be a more risqué cosmetics for ladies (and gentlemen) who dared? What do you think? Or perhaps you have an excellent idea of what this was really used for that I haven’t thought about. I would love to hear what you think!

Bathing beauties, 18th century style

There is a widespread view that people in the 18^th century didn’t bathe and that is, perhaps, not completely untrue. There was a widespread belief that it was dangerous to the health to immerse the body in warm water. A warm bath was also a matter of economics, clean water was a luxury in most large cities and to that the added cost of getting, heating and disposing it. But during the century, bathing for health became more and more popular, preferable cooler bath and getting clean wasn’t the big issue, more a bi-effect. Not bathing, however, isn’t the same thing as not trying to be clean. Though the standard for cleanliness was certainly laxer than today, people did wash themselves. A small amount of warm water and a piece of cloth work quite well. There was also a reason for washing that we modern people perhaps don’t think about- vermin. There are a number of recipes, often water based tinctures with various herbs, that body and hair should be washed in regularly to keep lice and other creepy crawlies at bay.

Bathing and washing were quite a popular theme in art, often disguised as an ancient goddess, but here are a few pieces of artwork that seems to be a bit more anchored in reality. Please obeserve that nudity is afoot.

 

This robust beauty climbing out of her bath, could in all probability be a realistic depiction of a wealthy lady bathing. Her maids are ready with towels, one is getting something from the vanity and the bed is prepared for its mistress so she can rest after her ordeal. There is even a girl keeping watch so no one can peek at the naked lady.

 

Bather by Jean-Baptiste Pater, circa 1730

 

Bathing in the open did occur in the late 17th century, Louis XIV, for example, was a keen swimmer and both ladies and gentlemen of his court swam as well. And though I have yet to find anything about this habit occuring in the 18th century, it is plausible. And these ladies, bathing in their shifts do seem more grounded in reality than all the supposed godesses of the 18th century that usually bathe in the buff.

Summer by Nicholas Lancret

 

The Bathers by Jean-Baptiste Pater, first half of the 18th century

A little porcelaine lady preparing to wash from a basin.

Bathing nude by Hoechst

 

Perhaps the aim is clean feet, like Boucher's beauty below. This painting had a pendant, now lost. I wonder what it depicted.

 

A Young Woman Taking A Footbath by François Boucher, 1766

 

The bidet was very popular with aristocrats in France and Marie Antoinette is supposed to have owned several.

La Toilette intime ou la Rose effeuillee by Louis-Léopold Boilly

 An 18th century bathing shift in blue and white linen, owned by Martha Washington.

Click here for more information.

 

Mud baths were defintly taken for health reasons.

Late 18th century engraving

 

The most famous bather of the 18th century is probably Jean-Paul Marat who was famously killed by Charlotte Corday in his bathtub in 1793. He suffered from a skin disease and spent much of his time in a medicinal bath.

Death of Marat by Jacques-Louis David, 1793

 

Death by makeup- An 18th century beauty myth?



Kitty Fisher by Sir Joshue Reynolds

If you read a book, article of blog post on the subject of makeup and history, then it is almost impossible to not find a sentence on how women’s use of poisonous cosmetics lead to their early graves. You may even get names like Maria Gunning, Lady Coventry, a famous s18th century beauty and sometimes also Kitty Fisher, actress and courtesan. And if they didn’t die, they destroyed their complexion and tried to hide it with more makeup, thus creating a downward spiral. I have certainly read it, many times, but when I did research for my guest post at American Duchess on 18^th century beauty myths, I found that Mary Gunning’s cause of death isn’t consistent.  Sometimes she died of blood poisoning due to the lead makeup she used. Sometimes her death is only alleged to be due to poisonous makeup. Or, which seems to be the case in more serious sources, her death, at the age of 27, was due to tuberculosis. Likewise, Kitty Fishers death is alternating between makeup, smallpox and consumption.

Could it really be that they didn’t die by using makeup? Both lead and mercury that could be found in white and red makeup in the 18^th century are very poisonous indeed and that was a known fact in the 1700s, so thinking you could die by using makeup is quite plausible. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it is true. This question has lead me to investigate where the sources of this information comes from, how lead and mercury was used in the 18^th century and what lead and mercury poisoning really look like. I was a bit startled with what I found.
 

Rumours of truth?




Maria Gunning, Lady Coventry, in Turkish costume
by Jean Étienne Liotard, 1948

Bear in mind that there are very likely more sources out there, this isn’t meant to be an exhaustive report. All my sources can be found at the end of the article. I have concentrated on what was actually said in the 18^th century, the main bulk of the idea that comestics can kill you, are foun in 19^th century sources, and deeming them second hand, haven’t put much heed to them. From the 18^th century I have only, I have found three possible sources to death by makeup, the most famous is probably a sentence in one of Horace Walpole’s letter.

 
That pretty young woman, lady Fortrose, Lady Harrington’s eldest daughter, is at the point of death, killed, like Coventry [Maria Gunning] and others, by white lead, of which nothing could break her.

Then there was a mention in “Town and Country Magazine” that Kitty Fisher dies “a victim of cosmeticks”. None of these are truly first hand facts. Horace Walpole was a politician, letter writer, art historian and antiquarian. A rather facetted career, but what he was not, was a medical doctor. He was a writer and though he may very well have thought they did die by their makeup use, he also manages to convey a rather misogynic view on women and vanity. Kitty Fisher’s possible cause of death seems to be even more just a rumour.

There were, however, doctors who genuinely believed that cosmetics could lead to death, as Fanny Burney writes in her diary.

A new light is of late thrown upon the death of poor Sophy P . Dr. Hervey, of Tooting, who attended her the daybefore she expired, is of opinion that she killed herself by quackery, that is, by cosmetics and preparations of lead or mercury, taken for her complexion, which, indeed, was almost unnaturally white. He thinks, therefore, that this pernicious stuff got into her veins and poisoned her. Peggy P , nearly as white as her sister, is suspected strongly of using the same beautifying methods of destroying herself; but as Mrs. Thrale has hinted this suspicion to her, and charged her to take care of herself, we hope she will be frightened, and warned to her safety. Poor foolish girls! how dearly do they pay for the ambition of being fairer than their neighbours! I say they, for poor Peggy looks upon the point of death already.

A doctor’s opinion weigh heavier, but it is worth remembering that the medical sciences were still rather primitive in the 18^th century. It was still unclear over how diseases were transmitted and the understanding on how lead poisoning works was not fully understood. And, as we shall see, both lead and mercury were used in more things than just in makeup.

The use of lead and mercury in the 18^th century.

Elizabeth Gunning, Duchess of Argyll by Allan Ramsay.
The sister of Maria Gunning is said to have destroyed her health
and beauty by her persistent use of makeup.

Lead is a heavy but soft metal which lend itself well to a number of different purposes. For example:

Pigment. Both white and red pigment can be derived from lead, and it is this product that could be used in makeup. Especially white lead pigment were priced for giving the best coverage and also because its staying power. The pigment was also used by artists and painters.

Sweetener Lead Acetate has a sweet taste and was used as a cheap substitute to sugar and to fortified wine, cider and rum.

Pottery glaze. If the glaze were not properly heated when used for food utensils, acid foodstuff could cause the lead to dissolve into food and drink.

Material for plumbing and water cisterns as well as for household utensils.

Putty When  installing windows and in this form it could evidently also be added to snuff!

Medicine Doctors actually described lead for various ailments and it could also be used in dentistry, like filling the hole left in the jaw after pulling a tooth. Constipation, which ironically enough can be caused by lead poisoning, could be “cured” by lead pills, in the hope that the heavy metal would push away any obstacle in the intestines.

In fact, lead was such a common material in the 18^th century that it was probably quite impossible to totally avoid it. Even if one never touched lead-based makeup, there were numerous ways to get lead into the system

Mercury is a metal as well, the only one which is liquid in normal temperatures. Though not as multi-usable as lead, it was still used for various tasks and still readily available.

Pigment As a red pigment called Vermillion, mercury was used in rouge. And as in the case of lead pigment, not only used for makeup, but by artists and painters as well.

Gilding, mirror making and hat making.

Medicine Mercury was prescribed as a cure for syphilis, which it actually seem to help against. It’s questionable if it is better to suffer from mercury poisoning instead, though.

The symptoms of lead and mercury poisoning

A young lady holding a pug dog by François Boucher, 1740's

Lead enters the body through ingestion and inhalation. What it does not, is to enter through naked skin. Applying lead to your skins leads to no ill effect. If you get small doses into your system it may not do any harm at all and the body will expel most of it eventually. In the long run and with continuous exposure to lead it will build up in your body and slowly poison you. A pregnant woman who is exposed to lead also runs in danger of poisoning her unborn child as well.

Exposure to a large quantity of lead will make you acutely ill and may even kill you in a matter of days with seizures, coma and cardio respiratory arrest. Secondary lead poisoning can also lead to this unpleasant end, but may also give you a number of nasty, if perhaps not always fatal, symptoms. To start with you may suffer from headaches, stomach pains, the aforementioned constipation, nausea weight loss and anemia, among other things. Continuous lead poisoning can also bring on kidney failure, infertility and damages to both brain and nerves. All rather nasty and mercury isn’t a bit better.

Mercury, as opposed to lead, does enter the body through the skin, but it also does harm if you ingest or inhale it. The many symptoms can be both physiological as well as psychological. “Mad as a hatter” and the mad hatter in Alice in Wonderland have a very real origin. As hatters used mercury in their trade, it was quite common that they became a bit peculiar eventually, suffering from drepression, panic attacks, hallucinations or with symptoms normally connected with schizophrenia, OCD and manic-depression disorder. Well, perhaps a bit peculiar was a bit of an understatement.

Of the long list of physiological problems you don’t want to get I can mention asthma, lethargy, numbness and tingling hands and feet, swollen and red ditto, no sex-drive, a number of menstrual related problems, infertility, kidney damage, various kinds of bowel problem and swollen and painful joints. Mercury seems to store easily in the heart, which can cause several different heart problems as well as elevated blood cholesterol. You can also bruise easily; get dry, peeling or flaking skin, rashes and eczema. And, mercury poisoning wreck havoc with the immune system, which opens up for all sorts of dangerous and deadly illnesses.

Conclusion

Madame Adélaïde de France by Jean-Marc Nattier, 1750

It seems to me that the legend of the deadly cosmetic are more complex and mixed up than it seems at first glance. Yes, both lead and mercury are extremely dangerous substances and they can both lead to a lot of rather awful problems. They don’t, however, behave exactly the same way, even if there is some overlap.

Lead doesn’t get absorbed through the skin, a fact that surprised me. How can you be so ill affected by lead if you just apply it to your skin? True, while handling white lead pigment you may easily inhale or get some in your mouth, but that would be very small amount- you don’t willfully eat your makeup. Also, so far I have not found any first-hand source that imply that people used powdered lead as a face powder. Instead it was either mixed with pomade or with a liquid, usually with some kind of gum for better adhesion. The person making the cosmetic would certainly run a risk of getting lead into the system and the wearer could probably not avoid getting some lead residue into nose and mouth, but the amount would still be much too small to lead to acute lead poisoning. In fact, a person who only occasionally indulged in the practice would probably never get enough lead inside to do harm. That such a young woman like Maria Gunning could have killed herself with lead makeup seems completely unlikely, even if she wore it every day. She might have suffered from it, but not die. However, she might have suffered acute lead poison from something else, and in that case it probably didn’t help at all to add makeup into the mix. Curiously enough it is always young and beautiful women who falls victim for the dangerous makeup, but if anyone really died from lead cosmetics alone, then that women would have to have been quite old to have had time to accumulate enough lead in the body to cause death.

With mercury the situation is a bit different. It is readily absorbed through the skin and the body does not expel it at all- everything you get inside you, stays. Even occasional use of Vermillion rouge could cause harm rather quickly and a prolonged use could very well kill you. However, rouge was not heavily used in England and there is even an anecdote that when Maria Gunning tried rouge when travelling in France, her husband publicly chased her and wiped it off. The situation could have been very different at the French court were rouge was part of court wear and ever lady was requited to wear it. That doesn’t mean that they used mercury-based rouge, there were plenty of other red pigments to choose from, but they might.. I have heard that Madame de Pompadour did in fact suffer from mercury poison and though I haven’t (so far) been able to find a source for that, her addiction to rouge is documented. She also did suffer from several ailments that all fit in quite nicely with the symptoms of mercury intoxication.



Madame de Pompadour by Francois Boucher,
 detail from a larger painting, 1756

That makeup destroys the skin, leading into more use use of the poisonous makeup doesn’t really ring true either. Lead doesn’t seem to harm skin at all and using it would not in itself cause damage to the skin. There are, however, a number of other reasons for breakouts and rashes. Allergies, bad nutrition and stress to name a few. It might not be a good solution to try to hide it with white makeup, but it seem unlikely that lead cosmetic would in itself cause skin damage. (If you are not allergic to lead, I suppose that is possible). Again, mercury is a much more likely offender. It can in itself cause skin problems and I shudder at the thought of adding more mercury to a skin already sensitized by it.

I think that lead and mercury have been mixed into one lethal mix over the years, truths and half-truths have been mixed with gossip and this has lead to a “truth” that doesn’t really hold up at a closer look. Mercury which poisons a human quicker and with more varied and nasty symptoms is in fact a likely perpetrator to death by makeup, while lead  would not cause death by the use of cosmetic alone. However, the makeup that is most commonly associated with the 18^th century is the white makeup and as it is common knowledge that lead is poisonous too, it is the white makeup that has been blamed. Lead, by no means an innocent, has been accused of a crime that it didn’t commit.

So, that women could die from the use of their makeup could be true. It is not, however, lead that caused it in that case, but mercury.
 

Jean Abercombie, Mrs Morison of Haddo by Allan Ramsay, 1767

 

Sources

A History of Mercury Poisoning

http://www.thenaturalrecoveryplan.com/articles/A-History-of-Mercury-Poisoning.html

Burnley, Fanny Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay: 1778 to 1784, http://books.google.dk/books/about/Diary_and_Letters_of_Madame_D_Arblay_177.html?id=w3oVAAAAYAAJBickers and son, (Google eBook)

Hernberg, Sven Lead Poisoning in a Historical Perspective “American Journal of Industrial Medicine”, 38:244-254, 2000 http://www.google.dk/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=web&cd=8&cad=rja&ved=0CGAQFjAH&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.rachel.org%2Ffiles%2Fdocument%2FLead_Poisoning_in_Historical_Perspective.pdf&ei=ZiY_UeqiJ4L_4QTM2YC4Cw&usg=AFQjCNHYHDS1kYHmsKw1S6vXvA24NeNfLw&bvm=bv.43287494,d.bGE

Lead: Identification, Testing and Protection, 29 CFR 1910.1025  http://www.grainger.com/Grainger/static/lead-identification-testing-protection-341.html

Lead and You http://www.google.dk/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=web&cd=6&cad=rja&ved=0CGQQFjAF&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.hse.gov.uk%2Fpubns%2Findg305.pdf&ei=cS0_UbqoO4mp4ATU_4H4Bg&usg=AFQjCNHOj7vJ8_fLdOpamzCQEnR_ZicbwQ&bvm=bv.43287494,d.bGE

Lessler, Milton A. Lead and Lead Poisoning in Antiquity to Modern Times, “OHIO” J.SCI. 88 (3):78-84, 1988 https://www.google.dk/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=web&cd=11&cad=rja&ved=0CCoQFjAAOAo&url=https%3A%2F%2Fkb.osu.edu%2Fdspace%2Fbitstream%2Fhandle%2F1811%2F23252%2FV088N3_078.pdf%3Fsequence%3D1&ei=iCc_UceBLJTY4QTvv4GICA&usg=AFQjCNHKACWkq0EDMVyupZvEYoVr9e87Tg&bvm=bv.43287494,d.bGE

Leslie, Charles Robert and Taylor, Tom Life and Times of Sir Joshua Reynolds: With Notices of Some of His Contemporaries, Volume 1, J. Murray, 1865 (Google eBook)

Pointon, Marcia The Lives of Kitty Fisher http://www.google.dk/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=web&cd=4&cad=rja&ved=0CEIQFjAD&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.marciapointon.org%2FFisher.pdf&ei=miU_UZv6MePJ4ATzpYGwDg&usg=AFQjCNFg-hFVnynWCSmeMNaREmafF6jsDQ&bvm=bv.43287494,d.bGE

Symptoms of Mercury Poisoning

 http://www.thenaturalrecoveryplan.com/articles/symptoms-of-mercury-poisoning.html

Walpole, Horace Letters from the Hon. Horace Walpole, to George Montagu, Esq. from the Year 1736 to the Year 1770: Now First Published from the Originals in the Possession of the Editor, Rodwell and Martin, 1818 (Google eBook)

Wikipedia

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page

 

Coloured hair powder

Portrait of Elisabeth-Marguerite, the Artist's Daughter by
Nicolas de Largilliere

If you have read this blog for a while you know that I’m fascinated by hair powder, especially coloured ones. White powder seems to have been, by far, the most common shade, but I wasn’t the only shade available. Abdeker: Or, the Art of Preserving Beauty lists the following colours;

Brown
Fair
Grey
Flesh-colour’d
Rose-colour’d
Cherry-colour’d
White
Black

 

Fair might be the same as blonde powder, rendered such with some yellow pigment mixed in it. Cherry sounds like a red shade, but flesh stumps me a bit. Skin-coloured powder? Whose skin? Recipes can be found for a variety of colours, so far I have found recipes from black, brown, grey, white, lavender, yellow, rose, blond and the Marechale powders, which turned out a light brown. There are also suggestions to how to tamper with brown hair powder in order to get it in a shade close to the wearers own hair. Most colours seem to start with white powder as a base, rendering the colored powder a bit of a pastel shade. However, one recipes for brown powder starts from black, and there are mentions that other colours are made from a black base, though unfortunately not which ones. Literature also name blue, green, red, and orange-red hair powder.

 

Mary Robinson as Perdita by John Hoppner

So, when were these powders used? Well, shades mimicking real hair colours could, at least in the first part of the 18^th century indicate mourning. The time of the day could also play part on choice. Black or brown powder for the morning visits, a mix of white and brown for the afternoon and then pure white for the evening. By the end of the 18^th century a natural look became fashionable and it is quite likely that people who wanted to keep thee powdered look, while still having a natural hair colour, used hair powders much in the same was as women do “natural” makeup today.

Archduchess Maria Christina, Duchess of Teschen
by Johann Zeffany, 1776

 

There are also several mentions of the importance of choosing a shade of hair powder that complemented ones skin tone. The white hair powder wasn’t always pure white, but the wearer could mix in a little brown, grey or yellow to soften the starkness of the white. For example, a lady who enjoys spending time outside will have a more blooming appearance than her more sedate and pale sister. Both these ladies should mix a little coloured powders into their white in order to not look tanned or pasty.



Madame de Savalette by Maurice Quentin de Latour

For more daring shades, the do seem to have been more for fashionistas than for the ordinary person. The politician Charles James Fox was noted for his use of blue hair powder in the 1770’s. Marie Antoinette, undoubtly not only a queen but a fashion queen as well, made a certain orange red shade briefly popular. Around the time of the French revolution both red hair powder and wigs became popular. A softly pastel-coloured powder in s shade that complemented ones dress do seem like a very easy way to add a little extra to an outfit, for example, in the 1750’s yellow hair powder became popular, especially if one wore black.
 



Esther Boardman by Ralph Earl, 1789

A good example on how hair changes colour when it is powdered and how white (or possibly grey) powder doesn't really give white hair.

 

For a long time I wondered why these coloured hair powders doesn’t occur on portrait. The truth is that they probably are, but there are several factors to why it is hard to say with certainty. White and grey were the most popular colours, but it is impossible to say if someone is wearing white or grey powder, because the end result depends on the wearers own hair colours. So far in this post you have seen a selection of ladies and gentlemen who all have different, albeit white/grey hair. A dark-haired person will never get snowy tresses no matter how much powder, because the hair underneath is too dark. A blonde, however, may seem to have truly white hair with less powder. So, regardless of colour of the powder, the hair shade plays a part in how the finished look will be.



Source

Clearly white ahir powder in use here. It has also dusted the shoulders of his coat, something that was quite all right on a gentleman, but a terrible fauz-pas on a lady.

 

Then there is the problem of colour distortion. Time can change the pigments use din a painting and might fool us. Also, many of us look at art in our computer. Colours can be distorted back when the painting was fist put online and individual computers may show up colour different as well. The artist talent is a factor too, a hair that looks like its powdered may just suffer from the artists inability to paint real hair… So, with all this in mind, here are a few painting that depict people who may be wearing colour tinted hair powders.



Marie-Thérèse-Louise de Savoie Carignan, princesse de Lamballe
by Rioult Louis Edouard

Possibly wearing yellow or blonde hair powder.



Mrs. Stevens by Francis Wheatley, 1795

Her hair looks powdered, but is it lightly powdered with white, letting her natural hair show through, or is it softly tinted brown powder.



Lady Chad by Thomas Gainsborough

Late 18th century quite strongly suggest her natural hair colour, but it might also be black powder.



Jean Abercromby, Mrs Morison of Haddo by Allan Ramsey, 1767

Again, a natural tint of her hair that could be eitehr powder or natural.



Portrait of a young lady, 1780's

To my eyes it looks like she wear light bown powder, but may also be the painter's tecnique...

Princess Juliane of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld by Élisabeth Louise Vigée-Lebrun, 1795.

Bright red tresses that doesn't look like a natural colour, but also a but too freeflowing for powder.



Henrietta Vernon by Thomas Gainsborough

Brown red hair that might be powdered.

Marie Antoinette by Antoine Lécuyer, 1775

Her hair is definitly powdered and to my eyes it is distinctly pink-toned, especially if you click through to the high res version.

Self-Portrait by John Singleton Copley, 1769

A distinct blue tone




Charles James Fox by Samuel Coates, 1780's

A more lavender than blue tone here, but I have seen other vesions of this portrait where the hair looks grey.

David Garrick

Again a blue tone of the hair.
 

Lägg till bildtextSuzanne Navilledes by Jean-Etienne Liotard, 1777

Her hair looks green to me, but then I find the colours on this painting a bit off all over.

For some real life comparasition. My hair is naturally a cross between dark blond and light brown. Here is what it looks like with pink powder.

With white powder, Marianne has grey powder on her dark brown hair.

White Marechale powder, a light bown colour that is quite close to my natural hair.

Grey hair powder, the same colour as Marianne wears above.

 

Sources

Corson, Richard, Fashions in makeup: from ancient to modern times, London : Owen , 1972
 

Le Camus, Antoine, Abdeker: or, the art of preserving beauty. Translated from an Arabic manuscript, Dublin : printed for John Murphy, 1756.
 

Lillie, Charles, The British perfumer: being a collection of choice receipts and observations made during an extensive practice of thirty years, by which any lady or gentleman may prepare their own articles of the best quality, whether of perfumery, snuffs, or colours, Souter, 1822
 

Rakestraw, J., The Evening Fire-side, Or Weekly Intelligence in the Civil, Natural, Moral, Literary and Religious Worlds, Volume 1, Issues 1-52, J. Rakestraw, 1805
 

Southey, Robert, Letters from England, Volume 2,  Longman, Hurst, Rees and Orme, 1808
 

Stewart, James, Plocacosmos: Or, The Whole Art of Hair Dressing; Wherein is Contained, Ample Rules for the Young Artizan, More Particularly for Ladies Women, Valets, &c. &c. as Well as Directions for Persons to Dress Their Own Hair, 1782
 

“The Gentleman's Magazine”, Volume 64, . Jefferies, 1788
 

“The Scots Magazine”, Volume 6, Sands, Brymer, Murray and Cochran, 1806