Legs
The so-called “zones of respect” of the human body, almost always belonging to women, have never ceased to play a defining role in the alternation of fashions, and in the continual seesaw of concealment and display. The taboo which for centuries surrounded the sight of women’s legs has now been done away with — for a very long time women and fashion had no legs — but it still stirs old emotions that have not been diminished one iota by the extraordinary shortening of the skirt for which Mary Quant was responsible in the 1960s. Among the most meaningful pictures to illustrate the Belle Époque is the one of the lady who, getting on a streetcar and lifting her dress, offers her ankle and part of the calf to the avid glances of the ticket collector and an elegant gentleman with a straw hat. Such a sight was a rarity, and an occasion not to be missed. More intense, but essentially identical, is the glance of the young man in a recent TV advertisement that follows the movements of the long legs of a girl wearing fishnet tights as she gets into a car. Of course our eyes are more accustomed to this kind of view than those of the gentlemen of the early 1900s, but as a song of the period between the two images says: “Black eyes are very beautiful, blue eyes even more, but I like legs further and further more.” Legs are liked better because they were the last to be freed from the obsessive taboo imposed on them — a steady and silent taboo, as always occurs with things considered “evil” by the rule of an outdated Catholic Church. After all, legs were not even mentioned in any sumptuary laws, in fact legs were not talked about, full stop. But in 1553 a voice was raised to reproach the sinful audaciousness of women who had shortened their dresses, supposedly to prevent themselves from falling over in the mud, but also to show their velvet slippers and colorful stockings. This voice belonged to the legislators of Ascoli. What they referred to, in fact, was ankles, anticipating the fetishism, typical of the nineteenth century, that surrounded the sight of a foot revealed for an instant by an uplifted skirt. However, it is obvious that reference to a portion alludes also to the whole. But it was in the early days of World War I (1915) that ankles came into sight and, later, legs up to the knees. This was the moment that the association began between short skirts and war, or at least between short skirts and times of trouble. This was the result of women having to replace men at work, the need for them to move without hindrance, the need to save on clothing materials, and because, as the war was killing off the country’s youth, it was beneficial to arouse men’s desire in order to balance the demographic gap. All true. But the garµonne who hid her curves but, with her androgynous cunning, showed her legs, was simply copying a tiny slice of the sexual freedom of her male counterpart. Studies on changes in taste, skirt volumes, and the relative heights of hemlines show that over the span of a century there were minimum alterations in the amount of visible leg. In the 1930s, there were variations of only a few centimeters of leg left visible above the ankles. It is known that Dior’s famous New Look — a reaction to the privations and humiliations of the war — was quickly rebuffed by women for its rejection of the corset and their lost freedom to show their calves. But in the long-term, in the late 1950s and early 1960s, the image of the tape measure on the front pages of newspapers indicating the length or shortness of a skirt, was all the rage in the battle of the hemline. Then came the revolutionary miniskirt which revealed women’s thighs. It was an extraordinary shock. It is true that the sight of women’s legs signalled the disappearance of favorite seduction accessories such as bras and garters, yet men’s euphoria at the advent of the miniskirt remained for years after its passing, even when women’s fashion, which originated in the streets and was copied by designers, offered the unflattering maxiskirt, and boots and trousers started hiding what had previously been left visible. But among the many revivals of the 1980s, miniskirts made a comeback, though they were somewhat altered. Women’s legs no longer shot out from beneath a tight piece of cloth in a healthy, athletic manner, but they deliberately and provocatively extended from petal-shaped skirts or very indiscreet hot pants. Since then, variations in the length of hemlines have coexisted, and often long skirts simply make use of very long slits to show a flash of legs inside. Thus, it might be said that, at the start of the 21st century, legs have lost that pre-eminence that was so long denied them and which was then thrust limitlessly upon them. Once again, generous necklines and the use of transparent materials distributed over all parts of the female body have returned to the spotlight those divine parts of the female body that are the favorite target of censure and the glory of the curvaceous women of the 1950s.