"The apparel oft proclaims the man ..."

So says Polonius, giving his son good advice in Hamlet. If we want to understand the assumptions of the ordinary playgoer in Shakespeare's theatre, we should pay attention to Polonius, the spouter of clichés. In this case, Polonius draws our attention to the close relationship between what one wears and who one is in Shakespeare's England.

On Tuesday, we started to think about how social status is not just proclaimed but even determined by clothes. When the tinker Christopher Sly is "wrapped in sweet clothes," he becomes a convincing member of the aristocracy. (At least he is able to convince himself.) Similarly, when Tranio swaps outfits with his master Lucentio, no one is able to distinguish master from man -- to great comic effect.

One could even say that early modern people fetishized dress in the sense of attributing magical signficance to it in its power to impart identity. This anxiety over the relationship between dress and social status even realized itself in law. The Elizabethan "Sumptuary Laws" were enacted to prevent wasteful economic extravagance and to make sure that the signs of status in costume corresponded to 'the reality'. Certain rich fabrics, for instance, were restricted to people of high status, so that no one could wear "cloth of gold" or "fur of sables" except "duchesses, marquises, and countesses". "Velvet in gowns, furs of leopards, embroidery of silk" were also restricted (although you could get away with these if you were the wife of a baron's son or of a knight).

Of course, the existence of such laws suggests that there was a lot of dressing up -- above one's station!

So, when the real Vincentio comes upon his son's servant Tranio in "silken doublet" and "velvet hose" (5.1.61-62), he knows that things are seriously disordered.

My next blog entry will be about clothes proclaiming the woman -- particularly the wife.