Demi-Toilette and fancy dress in Dorothy L Sayers

Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L Sayers

published 1933 




Doing my recent talk for the Dorothy L Sayers Society, I realized that I may have done 20+ posts on her books, but that is simply not enough. More are needed! So I am catching up, using some of the material from my talk for the Society, and also my talk at Bodies From the Library last year, which was about fancy dress scenes in Golden Age crime fiction

Murder Must Advertise has featured many times on the blog  but until now we have unaccountably failed to feature this moment - although I think I have discussed it with blogfriend Lucy Fisher:

Two of the typists from the Pym’s advertising agency are talking about Mr Talboys' social life. Miss Rossiter is all ‘I’m not one to talk as you know’, but she has seen Mr T out after midnight with somebody who is obviously not his wife.

NO exclaims Miss Parton.

‘My dear! And got up regardless, one of those little hats with an eye-veil, three-inch diamante heels, such bad taste with a semi-toilette, fish net stockings.

The top picture seems to give a good idea of the two dubious people out together...

It is usually called a demi-toilette, not semi, and it means dressed up, but not in full evening clothes – so might have been a shorter skirt, definitely not the fullness of a ballgown. Perhaps today a demi-toilette is that outfit beloved of those younger than I - nice trousers and a going-out top, a sparkly top. I should stress that there is nothing wrong with a demi-toilette of itself - perfectly acceptable in the right place - but the two young women are finding fault with the details, possibly being over-critical.

Sadly it is impossible to find a pic showing all Miss rossiter’s description – and these young ladies look quite respectable, despite the eye-veil hats, but then we can’t see if their heels are diamante.


The minx is going to turn up to cause trouble later.

 

I have already done items on the fancy dress scenes in this book, but there’s room for more.

At a very drunken party/orgy in the grounds of a smart house on the outskirts of London, one character has ‘their essential nakedness enhanced and emphasised by the wearing of a top hat, a monocle and a pair of patent-leather boots’ – this sounds like, and you might be hoping is, Lord Peter, but it was a woman, and sadly I was not able to find any suitable picture. But I always have this one in reserve.



Absolutely typically, Sayers has a character following Lord Peter as he careers around the countryside, so obviously this chap has to be discreet  – fair enough – but she makes his costume: that of a member of the Vehmgericht, with its black cassock and black, eyeletted hood covering the whole head and shoulders which was easily slipped on over his every-day suit.

Obviously we all know this already: the Vehmgericht were Westphalian judges in secret courts in the Middle Ages, who dressed as described. Sayers simply could not stop herself from showing off. The picture shows one of their courts, or possibly Mr Willis with a cassock over his office suit.



One aspect of Lord Peter’s antics in this book is perhaps surprising: the harlequin itself is absolutely spot on as a fancy dress costume of the era. It is startling to see just how widespread it was to take costumes from the Commedia dell’Arte – that is, harlequins, columbine and pierrot and pierrette. These are the four stock figures here. The costumes turn up all over the Golden Age crime genre, and it seems that does reflect reality.




In Murder Must Advertise we also have the important question of the evening dress of the Duchess of Denver: Helen, a character whom Sayers created solely apparently in order to hate her.

At an evening party:

Her own dress, she thought, became her… One must be fashionable, though one would not, of course, be vulgarly immodest. Helen considered that she was showing the exact number of vertebrae that the occasion demanded. One less would be incorrect; one more would be over-modern.

What IS the correct number of vertebrae to display in an evening dress? Here are a few options.


I think I now might have completed my researches into this splendid book.

Top picture is from the ever-wonderful Sam Hood archive at the State Library of New South Wales.


 


Comments

  1. If I'm not mistaken, the hat confirms it as a demi-toilette. Hats were not worn with evening dress, though a tiara is of course always acceptable!
    Clare

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    1. Oh yes very good point. When we know the rules, we can be as judge-y as Miss Rossiter and Miss Parton.

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  2. I'm sure I first read it as a demi-toilette - in a hardback edition bought in the year of publication. There was too much later hypercorrection! (Lucy)

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    1. Yes you could well be right. I just checked it in a different edition from my own and it is semi - but presumably once someone has change it, it stays changed.

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  3. Oh, and Lord Peter's costume was FAR more revealing! (Lucy)

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    1. The tight-fitting harlequin costume? I decided I had pictured it quite a few times already and would give it a rest this time...

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  4. The backless frock must have been quite chilly, and if you wore a stole it would spoil the look. I say this as some one who really feels the cold!
    I suppose the dubious lady was wearing a lot of make up, too :-)

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    1. I know - I am just the same, forever looking at people's clothes and thinking 'aren't you cold?' Particularly historical scenes where I think th heating not adequate. They never seem to have warm enough coats or cloaks either.

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    2. One could add a velvet bridge coat or, as in the case of Miss Silver, a coatee. Not that Miss Silver would be showing any vertebrae - IIRC she doesn’t “dress” for dinner but changes into last year’s best silk or art silk day dress, presumably with long sleeves, high neck, dowdy-length skirt and plenty of room for sensible woollen underwear beneath.

      Alice, the heroine of Angela Thirkell’s “Pomfret Towers”, wears a little white rabbit-fur cape over her evening dress at her first grown-up house party, and her more dashing new friend Phoebe also has a fur wrap.

      Sovay

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    3. I SO have to do an entry on bridge coats, I am collecting examples.
      I love Pomfret Towers, and that whole extended description of Alice's weekend away is absolutely wonderful. Here's my blogpost https://clothesinbooks.blogspot.com/2015/11/pomfret-towers-by-angela-thirkell.html
      and I said there that it contains all kinds of detail of etiquette and expectations. And its very sweet, Phoebe helping her and keeing an eye out. I would assume that Angela T was a most confident and undaunted person, but she has a good understanding of the feelings of more shy people. I thought AT might be more like Delia or Lydia in The Brandons perhaps.

      Love your description of Miss Silver's evening wear.

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    4. The coatees look like a good option - handsome 1930s patterns here https://www.etsy.com/listing/701748632/1930s-ladies-evening-wrap-coatee-instant and here https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/719381773/1930s-ladies-evening-coatee-instant. Miss Silver's is certainly rather less glamorous.

      Pomfret Towers is one of my favourite Thirkells - quite agree that AT would have been no shy Alice, though I'm not sure she would have admitted to being a galumphing Lydia or Delia either!

      Sovay

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    5. I was just struck by Alice and the White Rabbit - deliberate?

      I was also going to mention Briggs, the butler in Cyril Hare's "An English Murder" using the arctic dining-room temperature to exercise his snobbish instincts, but I note you've already highlighted this in your post on the book.

      Sovay

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    6. Thirkell must have had a soft spot for the galumphing girls. Lydia in particular was developed into an admirable and appealing character, going way beyond the stereotype of the hearty-girl-with-hockeystick.

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  5. Oh, that top pic. It's an exact depiction of Monsieur Antoine, being nice to Mrs. Weldon at the Resplendant in Have his Carcase. (Not M. Paul, who had a beard.) She's a tiny bit older than him, and he's clearly a man who lives by his charm.

    (For what it's worth, I think EVERYONE in HHC was really uncharitable towards Mrs. Weldon, who was, as she said, "all heart." They treated her courteously, but made seriously unpleasant remarks about her all the time.)

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    1. Yes! I think Sayers changed her mind about poor Mrs Weldon: she seemed deserving of sympathy at first, but then suddenly she was seen as not genuinely greiving but happy to go off with someone else. I felt it didn't sit well.
      But indeed yes that picture could be them!

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    2. Oh, poor Mrs. Weldon, the "predatory hag," "mutton dressed as lamb." (That was the first time I came across the latter phrase. I can only plead that we Yanks tend not to eat mutton.) She is held up to ridicule ("You might not think I was old enough to have a grownup son, my dear, but I was married scandalously young") yet becomes a figure of great pathos, and we mercifully never hear her story's conclusion. One does spare a moment's pity for the late Mr. Weldon who married a rather stupid woman and obviously left plenty of money that'll eventually (***SPOILER AHEAD***) probably go to some ladykiller. --Trollopian

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    3. Or maybe the late husband was cruel and cold-hearted, leaving his widow with a great yearning for love and admiration. Women like Mrs Weldon are generally treated as foolish figures of fun or pity, but personally I don't think they're any worse than the males of a certain age who fall for much younger women.

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  6. Oh, such attention to detail, Moira! That discussion of the veil, the shoes, the whole thing. I don't know that a lot of people go into that much detail when they judge others' clothes. But on the other hand, I've seen commentary on what stars wear when they're out, and in ways, it's at least as 'judge-y.' Plus sa change, I suppose...

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    1. What a fascinating point - I hadn't thought of that but you are so right. I was thinking that the rules of what to wear weren't so strict now, but you are right - they are for celebrities!

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  7. Christine Harding9 March 2025 at 21:19

    I always worry about those vertebrae when I read this book - was there really a socially acceptable amount of backbone to bare? And what happened if you were very tall or very short? Or was Sayers just poking fun at women obsessed by fashion who wore the kind of gown she couldn’t afford?

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    1. Me too, it made me think adult life was too complicated for me, I worried how you could ever know that kind of thing. I think you're right, it was just another way of getting at Helen.

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    2. Helen certainly had the money for the best gowns but probably didn't like to spend it! My impression has been that she was less interested in Fashion than in Propriety (and the strictest kind too). Sayers stressed how rigid she was in her thinking and behavior, and I think the vertebrae remark pointed up her preoccupation with what was considered "correct" for someone in her position. It also showed in her disapproval of her brother-in-law!

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