Where Did That Come From?

A regular column that examines the history and origins of a particular medical topic.

Recent I was browsing through a book concerned with medical history and chanced upon a chapter which I would have thought had little to do with anything medical: it was a review of the Sears Roebuck Catalogue for 1897. Sears Roebuck was a large chain of department stores located in America, founded in the late nineteenth century by, who else but, Messrs Richard Warren Sears and Alvah Curtis Roebuck. By the mid twentieth century had become the largest retailer in the USA. The name of the co-founder Alvah Roebuck was dropped in the 1970s at about the time the 110 story high Sears Tower was built in Chicago which at the time became the tallest building in the world; it is still. the tallest in America..

Each year the company produced a catalogue packed with news and illustrations of so many 'must have' desirables. It became one of the country's most sought after publications, but regrettably was discontinued just after World War II, hence the widespread excitement when the 1897 bulky edition was reissued in 1976. It is a treasure trove of late nineteenth century fashions, household equipment, mail order bric a brac, drugs, agricultural implements, firearms and, surprise, surprise, methods of cosmetic enhancement, if not actually cosmetic surgery.

The cover of the 800 page book is adorned by a smart looking, well coiffured woman in a floor length red dress · la late nineteenth century. She is reading to a small girl and portrays a picture of middle class stability, financial security and social ease all wrapped in contemporary fashion. Mind you, on the first page it does not hesitate to record such mundane matters as ëHow to Send Moneyí.

To put prices into context, one US dollar then is equivalent to about $US25 today. So a pair of the pictured button sided boots for the discriminating lady priced at $S8.50 would be about $210 today.

But our interest lies mainly in the cosmetic section, and, selling for $200, are illustrated some formidable looking corsets for the fashion conscious milady. To improve deportment they are fortified with broad straps over the shoulders adjustable to ensure a rigid upright posture as well as seemingly meters of lacing to pull in the stomach. More a harness than a piece of lingerie, if the garment did the cosmetically desirable trick of giving the wearer a guardsmanís stance as well as an hour glass figure, it was probably money well spent.

Women wore their hair long, but contemporary fashion dictated it be swept up and pinned on top of the head, an appearance enhanced by what is essentially a bit of cosmetic medicine, namely 'Princess Tonic Hair Restorer'. With a regular price of $1.00, the Sears and Roebuck bargain price of 57 cents (about $13) or $5.75 (about $70) for a dozen bottles, seems a good buy, especially if it can produce such fine shiny hair as seen on the demure model. The tonic is said to ërestore the natural color, strengthen the hair, promote growth, arrest falling out and nourish the rootsí.

Presuming that men also read the come-on, the advert also poses the question, ëAre you inclined to Baldness?í. If so, it seems Princess Tonic Hair Restorer is for you, and be assured if used 'according to directions' it is completely harmless. One wonders what would happen if it is not used according to directions. The actual ingredients are not listed, merely a stamp at the bottom which says, 'This Label is your Protection: it assures that only the purest and finest ingredients are used.' Well, if, as the blurb goes, 'it puts new life in dormant, sluggish hair cells, producing in a comparatively short time a new growth of hair', why go to an expensive hair transplant surgeon. Nonetheless, a product which comes in packs of twelve bottles would not instil much confidence in the patient as to its efficacy.

From the cosmetic surgery viewpoint, the product to really catch the eye of those casting about for some breast cosmetic enhancement, the 'The Princess Bust Developer and Bust Cream or Food' would seem to be just the job. The cream cum food ('unrivalled for developing the arms and neck'), and apparently 'put up by an eminent French chemist' would seem the first thing to try . In fairness to the manufacturers it does say that ëthe treatment that will, when properly used for a reasonable length of time (unspecified), develop and enlarge the bustí The final result should give ëthat rounded, firm bosom which belongs to a perfect symmetrical figureí.

But even better results can be obtained if the cream is used in conjunction with The Princess Bust Developer, 'a new scientific help to nature'. Used together one can expect an enlargement of '2 to 3 inches'. There is an illustration of the Bust Developer and it has an uncanny resemblance to one of those rubber plunger that plumbers use to unblock your kitchen sink. But it not rubber, it is crafted in nickel and aluminium, and goes with an alarming warning which states ëunmailable on account of weightí. Its medieval appearance and the accompanying blurb gives a new dimension to the phrase ëthe mind bogglesí.

Apparently the plunger, er developer, comes in two sizes, 4 and 5 inch diameter. They state ëthe 4 inch is the most (sic) popular as well as the most desirable sizeí. The need to have to use a 5 inch model probably does little for the userís self esteem. It claims to act by 'exercising the muscles of the bust, compels a free and normal circulation of the blood through the capillaries....of the flabby, undeveloped parts'. The advert itself does not actually specify how you use the bell like contraption; presumably you pump it in and out, just, in fact, like the plumber does. It claims it will produce the desired result in nearly every case. Indeed the manufacturers will ëgladlyí refund your money if not entirely satisfied after a fair trial, whatever ëa fair trialí is.

The regular price of these ‘guaranteed' magical cosmetic treatments, was $5.00 for both developer and bust cream ($125). whereas the Sears Roebuck advertised special is an incredible $1.46 the lot ($38). For a dozen such packages it is $15.00 ($375). Presumably you buy the jumbo pack at Christmas and hand out the spare ones to your incredulous, envious and flat chested friends.

And to think women now have to go through the inconvenient and time consuming rigmarole of implant insertions by trained surgeons charging eye watering prices when 100 years ago a plumber could do the job in his lunch break.

Australian Cosmetic Surgery Magazine #50