Happy Birthday, Mr Shakespeare!

    Today, being St George's Day, is also generally celebrated as the birth-date (in 1564) of the world's greatest playwright and general Good Egg, one Wm. Shakespeare (or Shakspear - he never seems particularly wedded to one spelling, but ranged about a bit. And, why not? You can't tie genius down with spelling. Teachers might disagree...)  

Modern recreation by Vanny Sok

     As I've just been to a Dr Hauschka Makeup training day, it seemed apposite to link the two if possible, hence this wee look at what sort of makeup was worn during the time of the Bard of Avon, both on- and off-stage.

     Back in the day, there was no such thing as 'safe' cosmetics and H&S legislation. Most people put really dodgy stuff on their faces to gain the requisite shade of white. Including Her Maj - Elizabeth I, who probably started the trend.

     The ideal beauty was a very fair woman, with blonde or red hair (like Liz), an exceptionally pale complexion and red lips. As well as being tall and slim, Queen Elizabeth had pale skin and light red-gold hair. She made the most of this, and all the noblewomen tried to emulate her style and looks. (The poor probably didn't bother, being more concerned with scratching a living and not getting arrested for poaching.)

    Probably the point of showing of an alabaster complexion was that it signified wealth - you couldn't be pale and interesting if you'd been labouring in the field 24/7, could you?

      This degree of pallidity wasn't always that easy to achieve, and like modern women, some help was required. Unlike us, though, they used seriously dodgy ingredients. Now, I am often heard making 'eugh' noises, when I peruse the ingredients lists on tubes of (non-Hauschka) cosmetics, but the stuff they painted themselves with was seriously gross. 

     " 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
     Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on"

     So said Will. Except it wasn't: it was mostly fake. Let's start with ceruse: a tasty mix of white lead and vinegar, which gave you a white complexion, initially at least. However, it also gave you blemishes, which you then had to cover up with more ceruse, until your face was ruined, your hair fell out and you died of lead poisoning. (Like Maria the Countess of Coventry, aged 27.) 

     If you wanted to lose your freckles, you had the delicious choice of sulphur, turpentine and mercury. On top of this, was painted a nice glaze of egg white. At least that wouldn't do any harm, although it might smell after a bit, but as hardly anyone bathed much, perhaps it was unnoticeable...

     Lipstick was very popular of course, and vermilion was the shade du jour. That, of course, is also known as mercuric sulphide. Nice! 

     To get that 'high brow' look, the hairline and the eyebrows were plucked to oblivion, proving that "il faut souffrir pour être belle" is not a modern invention,

     Let's not forget the eyes, those windows of the soul: to keep them bright, a tincture of belladonna was used. Hence the name presumably. Once the pupils were dilated, a nice line of antimony was painted along them. Antimony poisoning is very similar to lead poisoning, apparently. though I doubt that makes much of a difference, except to anyone doing an autopsy. 

     Actors often used prop paint for their faces, after painting the stage. There was also a pleasing mixture of powdered hogs bones mixed with poppy oil, which was used, especially by the young men who were playing the petticoat parts. All the actors wore face paint of some sort, though, to accentuate the character they were playing. Like Duncan with his "silver skin (laced with his golden blood)". Although, by most accounts, the real King Duncan was not the pleasant chap he seems. ("Seems,” madam? Nay, it is. I know not “seems...) A popular recipe was ceruse mixed with sublimate of mercury and ground orris. Sprinkle in some ground hogs’ bones, a pinch of borax, and beat in egg whites and lemon juice. Nice! 

     One of the few harmless ingredients used, and this is still used today, to create red lipstick, was cochineal. It was expensive, though, hence the vermilion being in more common use.  

     Thinking about that lot, I'm pretty relieved that we can paint our faces with Dr Hauschka. I'm not sure that lead and mercury have a great deal to recommend them, although you could of course say that they are 'natural'. Like cyanide and arsenic. Which just goes to show that you can't rely on the claims on packets of cosmetics to be 'natural' and assume that they are therefore beneficial.