<\/p>
Lush, powdered wigs had been popular since the end of the 17th century, but only for men. It wouldn\u2019t be until about 1770 when the (slightly more) natural \u2018Pompadour\u2019 hairstyle \u2013 named for French King Louis XV\u2019s chief mistress \u2013 gave way to the giant wigs we now associate with the Rococo movement.<\/p>\n
They were mostly human hair, but bulked out with horse-hair pads and wire frames. Pomades and powders (often flour) kept even the most fanciful creations solid until the next re-style, which were common.<\/p>\n
Ladies of the French court vied with each other for novelty, but cartoonists and satirists enjoyed the fashion so much that it\u2019s hard to know just how far some of the more outrageous styles went. The famous \u2018ship in the hair\u2019 prints may well have been a real design.<\/p>\n
The wigs were never very hygienic, as all kinds of bug-based wildlife shared headspace with the wearer. Women would have to use a special rod to scratch their insect-infested wigs.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s unlikely, however, that a mouse would have stayed unnoticed while it was being worn.<\/p>\n
Yet a wig being stored, or flung in the corner of a dressing room, might well have made a cosy nest for a family of mice, complete with powder and fatty pomades as a handy snack.<\/p>\n
On the podcast | National Maritime Museum curator Sue Pritchard discusses how monarchs used wigs to convey royal power and spark fashions, from Elizabeth I<\/a>\u2019s fiery false locks, to Charles II<\/a>\u2019s luxuriant cascading curls, on this episode of the HistoryExtra<\/em> podcast<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n