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Victorian Flirtations, A Language Without Words, From 'Afternoon Tea' by J. R. laGreca
The Victorian era boasted romanticized images and subtle communication during courtship. The women used their frilly handkerchiefs, ornamental fans, parasols, hats, and gloves as gestures of flirtation. I have revealed some of the hidden messages of the Victorian Era from my book 'Afternoon Tea', with the hope you will offer some modern day signals that represent our modern day legacy. I’m curious if you can think of some, and what they would be. Could one be not chatting with someone on line when they welcome you for a bit of dialogue?
As for Victorian times, the flirtations of the fan had a language of its own. If a woman carried it in the right hand in front of the face she invited a gentleman to follow her. Twirling it in the right hand, I love another. Drawing it across the eye implied an apology, (talk about never having to say, “I’m sorry.”) Fanning slowly, I am married, fanning quickly, I am engaged. Closing it, I wish to speak to you; opening the fan wide, wait for me. Drawing it across the cheek, I love you. With handle to lips bore an invitation to kiss, a bold gesture especially in Victorian times.
A handkerchief drawn across the lips implied the bold sentiment, desirous of an acquaintance. Drawing it by the center, you are too willing, (a good cure for the annoyingly persistent suitor.) Dropping it implied, we will be friends; hopefully it would be picked up! Drawing it across the hand, unmistakably, I love you, in the language of love no different than saying it with words, the preferred method for the shy or easily tongue-tied female.
Parasol flirtations; carrying it elevated in the left hand signaled, desiring acquaintance. Carrying it closed in the left hand, a subtle invitation to meet on the first crossing, imagine the picturesque horse and buggies as a backdrop. Twirling it around warned to be careful we are being watched. Dropping it professed, I love you. The clumsiness of dropping it by accident would no doubt bear uncomfortable insinuations and a blushing ingénue.
Hat flirtations had their own mystique; putting it under the left arm, I will be at the gate at 8 PM. Putting it in front of you, I am single, and no doubt available. Carrying it in the left hand, the cutting remark, I hate you. Running the finger around the crown professed a declaration of love.
Glove flirtations, the brazen right hand with the naked thumb exposed, kiss me. Biting the tips of the gloves, I wish to be rid of you very soon. Putting them away, I’m vexed. Tapping the chin, I love another. Turning them inside out, I hate you. Dropping both gloves, I love you.
This is the abridged version of an essay I wrote for Bluestocking’s Ultimate Blog Party 2009. For those of you interested in reading the full essay I have added it as an attachment.
As for Victorian times, the flirtations of the fan had a language of its own. If a woman carried it in the right hand in front of the face she invited a gentleman to follow her. Twirling it in the right hand, I love another. Drawing it across the eye implied an apology, (talk about never having to say, “I’m sorry.”) Fanning slowly, I am married, fanning quickly, I am engaged. Closing it, I wish to speak to you; opening the fan wide, wait for me. Drawing it across the cheek, I love you. With handle to lips bore an invitation to kiss, a bold gesture especially in Victorian times.
A handkerchief drawn across the lips implied the bold sentiment, desirous of an acquaintance. Drawing it by the center, you are too willing, (a good cure for the annoyingly persistent suitor.) Dropping it implied, we will be friends; hopefully it would be picked up! Drawing it across the hand, unmistakably, I love you, in the language of love no different than saying it with words, the preferred method for the shy or easily tongue-tied female.
Parasol flirtations; carrying it elevated in the left hand signaled, desiring acquaintance. Carrying it closed in the left hand, a subtle invitation to meet on the first crossing, imagine the picturesque horse and buggies as a backdrop. Twirling it around warned to be careful we are being watched. Dropping it professed, I love you. The clumsiness of dropping it by accident would no doubt bear uncomfortable insinuations and a blushing ingénue.
Hat flirtations had their own mystique; putting it under the left arm, I will be at the gate at 8 PM. Putting it in front of you, I am single, and no doubt available. Carrying it in the left hand, the cutting remark, I hate you. Running the finger around the crown professed a declaration of love.
Glove flirtations, the brazen right hand with the naked thumb exposed, kiss me. Biting the tips of the gloves, I wish to be rid of you very soon. Putting them away, I’m vexed. Tapping the chin, I love another. Turning them inside out, I hate you. Dropping both gloves, I love you.
This is the abridged version of an essay I wrote for Bluestocking’s Ultimate Blog Party 2009. For those of you interested in reading the full essay I have added it as an attachment.
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Victorian Flirtations.doc, 32 KB
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