Much poetry of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries incorporates the idea of a “slight disorder in the dress” as well as in the hair of its female subjects. Ben Jonson notes that there is something suspicious about a woman who is always neatly dressed: What is she hiding? He calls for the “sweet neglect” of “robes loosely flowing, hair as free” in the woman who would capture his heart. Similarly, Richard Lovelace bids Amarantha to “dishevel Her Hair,” letting it fly “as unconfined/ As its calm ravisher, the wind,” that she might “shake [her] head and scatter day.” Probably the best known of all poems with this bent is Robert Herrick’s “Delight in Disorder.”
Herrick first praises a wantonness, or playfulness, which he discovers in clothes arrayed in “sweet disorder.” He proceeds to describe that disorder, beginning with a scarf thrown about the shoulders. It is a scarf of “lawn,” a linen cloth woven so fine that it has a diaphanous quality. (Herrick found this quality engaging in one of his many Julia poems, “To Julia in Lawn at Dawn.”) Herrick then takes note of the lace embroidery that decorates the lady’s stomacher, a garment worn beneath the bodice. It is not the quality or the design of the lace that he notes, or how well it complements the garment to which it is sewn, but simply the fact that it is not quite perfect in its placement; it is indeed an “erring lace.” The next element of the...
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