London Life

London Life | 1939

Dress For The Maimed

by Joan Roper

I wonder whether my readers will guess, from this article, that I am typing it on a borrowed machine, sitting uncomfortably up in bed (with my left leg in a "cradle"), after an operation. If they do, I would like them to excuse any faults that are in this article, for not only have I had a lot of trouble to write at all, but I haven't been able to do my usual sketches; and for the one that appears with this I must thank a friend who volunteered to help me out.

I thank all the readers who have written to me for advice on the topic of dress for the maimed. most of the letters I handed to the Editor, after perusal, for printing in the correspondence Columns, so all who wrote to me will know that in this article I am replying to them.

I have had many brave and interesting letters from lame girls, monopedes, and others (all have been published), and I want to reply first of all to the girl who asked me what she should wear to conceal her crutches most successfully.

For winter outdoor wear I suggest that she chooses a long cape, cut full round the hem, and fitting close up to the neck. The fullness of this cape folds itself around the crutches, keeping her warm and trim, and there are arm slits in the front for allowing the hands full play when the crutches are not being used. I suggest that this cape should be made in a velour cloth. Grey would be charming, especially when worn with a little pillbox hat made from grey astrakhan: but every girl could choose material and colour to please herself, couldn't she? And if grey is chosen, remember that it has the effect of adding a pallor to the complexion. So, little lame friend, be lavish with your rouge and lipstick, and make up your face really well, and you will find that this all covering outfit becomes you and brings out your best points, disguising as far as possible, our lameness or leglessness.

I have a great interest in this topic myself, for if this last operation of mine is not successful, despite all, I may have to have one of my own legs amputated lust above the knee; but if that sad happening does occur, at least I shall know that to lose a limb is not the terrible thing that normal two-legged people suppose. Nature always provides compensations, doesn't she?

No tight skirts. For an afternoon ensemble for a lame, monopedic, or crippled girl, I suggest the following suit, which can be worn under the cape I have just described. Have an afternoon frock made in fine woolen fabric, cut to fit the figure to the waist, until it flares into a circular skirt, with high neck and long sleeves. Then buy a big pointed collar - something like the one Cardinal Richeleu wears in the paintings, with enormous cuffs to match. Have these spotlessly white at all times, and starched like a board, and add them to the classically cut plain frock. The collars and cuffs dramatise the neckline and the wrists where the crutches are grasped, and draw attention away from the maimed or non-existent legs in the cleverest manner possible. Please, dear fellow maimed ones, don't wear a tight skirt! That absolutely rivets attention on our legs - and that is the last thing we want isn't it?

Besides that, a tight skirt works upwards of slip and petticoat in the most unobliging fashion, and then lameness is pitied; and if there is one thing no lame girl can bear for a moment, is pity! After all, if lameness is our lot in life, let us make a chic lameness! That means that more than usual attention should be given to make-up, hair styles, sheer stockings (for the good leg, in the case of monopedes, and absolute cleanliness of cloths. Nothing ill looks better than a grubby touch of so-called white on a dress - nothing is more attractive than spotless, board-stiff starched accessories. It breathes a note of exquisite daintiness, and emphasises that though Fate may have robbed us of, or marred a limb, our flag of pride is still flying in the breeze.

For a smart suit.

Costume coats and skirts are still in high favour with all lame girls, and the extra protection of the coat eases the pressure of the crutches under the armpits, so perhaps this is the reason. But lame girls must bear one important thing in mind when ordering a costume:

She must have her skirt made with the highest possible waist.

Lameness invariably shortens the figure by about 3 inches, whether you are a monopede or a cripple. TO combat this, you must make your clothes give you the illusion of having extra length. A high-waisted skirt does this admirably, and so does a coat that ends just above the hipline. (The bolero style, as it is called.) With this the dainty crippled girl can wear a smart blouse. (Those semitransparent ones are high fashion notes for a dark suit, and allow you to go gay with the ribbons and lace of the showy camisole that is glimpsed through the diaphanous blouse. Fortunately most lame girls have nicely shaped bosoms - and there's a reason for that.)

Always, when giving your tailor instructions, insist that he adds extra padding and a double thickness of material under the armpits where the crutches rub. I wasted dozens of suits before I found that one had to. "dress to crutches," so to speak. Then go as gay as you like with silk stockings and high heels. Heels can be as high as compatible with ease in walking. Any heel that wobbles or turns under is too high for the wearer.

Another point that I find cropping up in readers' letters is this: Many of you have written to me saying, "I find that my friends find my lameness an added attraction."

Oh, my dears! How wrong you are! Aren't you confusing sympathy and chivalry with admiration? After all, we lame girls come in for a lot more consideration than our normal sisters, and we can also command admiration for chic clothes and make-up; but that lameness in itself can be an attraction, I can't understand.

Mind you, I am not saying that lameness or leglessness will prevent a girl from having her share of admiration. It will not. But it will not get you any more. So avoid like the plague the advise of those well-meaning, kind correspondents who take pains pointing out that monopedes and others are more attractive, for these letters may make you fall into the trap of attracting the eyes to your lame state instead of lifting the eye from it by clever dressing.

To conceal deficiencies is the whole art of dress, and the reason for inauguration of these articles; and "London Life" is the first paper to take into consideration the fashion needs of thousands of maimed girls - which, I think, shows the shortsightedness among editors in general, doesn't it?

Things to avoid.

Lame, one-legged or maimed girls should avoid the following:

These general rules will help any lame girl to make the best of herself all the times.


London Life November 25, 1939 pp. 9 - 10
London Life | 1939