"Did you breathe any of the fumes from that green potion?"
"No, Professor Snape . . . I merely wafted a tiny bit of it toward my nose to smell it, the way Mother taught me. . . ."
Fashion has always run the risk of becoming brutal. Already driven by trends, it took on a special kind of wicked when backed by the power and ingenuity of the Industrial Age. Today it's the excessive use of fossil fuels, early and mid-century it was a focus on furs . . .
In the Victorian era, it included a passing craze with fabric dyes made from toxic ingredients, notably Paris Green, which was compounded from arsenic.
A chemist named Scheele invented the first reliable green pigment using arsenic. While the Victorian-era populace knew it was poisonous to ingest, they didn't realize arsenic was so toxic that merely touching it, or being near its offgassing vapours, could be fatal, especially for children, elderly folks or the generally weak of constitution. Tragically, some families lost three or four children in a matter of days.
Two safe modern replacement pigments for the lethal Paris Green, which even back then was used as an insecticide!
Arsenic is not even the only toxic green pigment. Verdigris is another (and copper and arsenic are often mined together; hence one of the sordid facts behind the efforts of copper magnate William Morris' attempts to discredit naysayers of the use of arsenic in paints and dyes). My own egg-tempera pigment kit today includes a traditional powder made from another toxic metal element: chromium.
Unfortunately, even with arsenic's dubious nature already known in some circles, the color green in various vivid shades was rapidly coming into vogue in the mid-1800s, and there was money to be made: by couturiers, by home and decorating companies, even by health and medicine quacks. . . . Had Sherlock Holmes been active then, he would quickly have discovered multiple cases with one thing in common, such as distinctive, lovely, but mysteriously garlic-scented wallpaper.
Above: Poisonous Victorian wallpaper.
CREDIT: 2016 CROWN COPYRIGHT, THE NATIONAL ARCHIVES, KEW/ CORBIÈRE, SON & BRINDLE, LONDON, UK, 1879
So began one of the most notorious of chemical danse macabres, extinguished only as both a critical mass of fear surrounding arsenic spread and green, well, everything started falling back out of vogue. As the engraving below suggests, people weren't intellectually stupid about what was happening. But, as we've seen today, humans have a kind of regressive survival urge to cling to habit that can make them slower to change than planet Earth's climate . . . literally.
This weekend I attended the Arsenic Ball, mainly to hear my friend Hide (pronounced 'Heidi') sing with her band Seven Cake Candy for my first time. But it also presented a great excuse to dress up for a woman who typically wears the same outfit a week in a row working factory night shifts.
And what did I wear? Why, a nice radioactive, arsenic-invoking, Slytherin green, of course! It's actually not a perfect Paris Green, but more of an emerald shade, which in fact matches my birthstone. The thrift store maven strikes again!
What a riot! Recall that hideous green, tipsy layered cake that Captain Hook attempts to poison the children with? Hide and the band all dressed thus, in ostentatious Victorian gowns and ruffles in various and vaguely noxious shades of green. Songs with lyrics like "Pure filth -- serve it up!" were belted out with passion.
In between songs, a bodacious drag queen MC recited dark poetry and read history lessons about these toxic times (as if arsenic gowns and wallpaper weren't foul enough, ladies' dresses trailed in muddy, horse- and human-feces-filled streets, inviting tuberculosis and worse). Other acts included some burlesque dancing and singing, or both in one act, including a couple that featured props of chemistry lab shenanigans and dubious beverages, with the song "Tainted Love" sung live. It was decidedly a Goth and genderfluid friendly event. Of course, no Goth event isn't improved by people appearing to die of poison onstage, which several did, including finally the MC, who lay there as the band did one of their final numbers. Get the smelling salts!
One reason I don't run exclusively with this crowd, however, is both toxic and quite unhumorous, though it isn't limited to this crowd. A lot of them smoke. There's absorbing toxins into your skin or sucking them into your skull because you either don't have a choice or don't know better at the time . . . then there's knowing better but choosing to be totally fucking stupid. It sounds odd coming from somebody who honors a deity of crude oil, sure; but my oleophilia is rooted in multiple truths, not all of which are bad, and some of which are born out of an awareness of the very changes that must occur for our health and lives.
Long story short? I'm willing to put up with that piss-poor, foul-smelling smoke (I mean, bitches please, you could at least pick a classy toxic smoke, the cloves are fine!) to support a friend.
There was also a photo booth, and Hide's friend Morgan, who also looked fabulous, took a picture or three of me, and one of us both:
I have to admit, it was a bit of a self-esteem boost to be lauded and recognized by people like Morgan, who seem a lot more into fashion and "practiced" at it than I am on a regular basis! Playing diva now and then is fun. It just feels harder sometimes to pull an act together when you're moving and have, like, no space to work, including on fashion. But this time I managed it!
With much of my things still packed and little room, I didn't make my dress this time. But I did make my lip gloss, for which I'm proud. The dress was a thrift find, and the best part is that I can wear it for other events. Movie star in green sequins, yass!
Don't forget the eyeshadow. But also don't ask me to wear eyeliner --- even if it's not as toxic as arsenic, and "suffering for fashion" is a mantra, applying and removing that stuff creeps me out.
