6 Cosmetics

WHAT WERE COSMETICS MADE OF?

Pliny the Elder wrote the Natural History, a monumental work made up of 37 books, in the first century CE. Being the ancient counterpart to a modern-day encyclopedia, Natural History covers a wide veriety of topics, from astronomy to zoology to geography. Pliny was essentially aiming to compile all his knowledge on the natural world (or what he considered to be the natural world) into one work. Though not all the information Pliny includes is completely accurate or factual, he even wrote about things like the Cynocephali (people with dog heads), scattered throughout his work are references to cosmetics that are very useful. Because of the purpose of his work and writing style, Pliny offers a more informational view of cosmetic use than his contemporaries and thus provides a lot of knowledge about which ingredients were used and the process of making them. However, this does not mean that some of his passing remarks about makeup are not tainted by the bias that pervaded male perceptions of female activities in the ancient world.

In most cases, when Pliny mentions an ingredient that can be used as a cosmetic, it is used to improve the appearance of the skin. As noted above, unblemished and bright skin was considered highly beautiful in Rome, and the many references in Natural History certainly underscore the aim to improve the appearance of one’s skin. What follows are two excerpts from book 28, one discussing how the milk of a donkey served to maintain luminous skin  and the other outlining how to use pig’s fat for the same purpose:

It is generally believed that asses’ milk effaces wrinkles in the face, renders the skin more delicate, and preserves its whiteness: and it is a well-known fact, that some women are in the habit of washing their face with it seven hundred times daily, strictly observing that number.^[8] Poppæa, the wife of the Emperor Nero, was the first to practise this; indeed, she had sitting-baths, prepared solely with asses’ milk, for which purpose whole troops of she-asses used to attend her on her journeys. The grease of a sow that has never given birth, is the most useful of all cosmetics for the skin of females; but in all cases, hogs’ lard is good for the cure of itch-scab, mixed with pitch^[9] and beef-suet^[10] in the proportion of one-third, the whole being made lukewarm for the purpose. Fresh hogs’ lard, applied as a pessary,^[11] imparts nutriment to the infant in the womb, and prevents abortion. Mixed with white lead or litharge,^[12] it restores scars to their natural colour; and, in combination with sulphur, it rectifies malformed nails.^[13] It prevents the hair also from falling off; and, applied with a quarter of a nutgall, it heals ulcers upon the head in females.^[14] When well smoked, it strengthens the eyelashes.

Natural History 28

Apparently people also used salt to achieve glossier skin, here is a section from book 31 which reviews different types of salt and their benefits:

Of the various kinds of sea-salt, the most esteemed is that of Salamis, in Cyprus; and of the lake-salts, that of Tarentum,^[15] and the salt known as Tattæan salt, which comes from Phrygia:^[16] these last two are also good for the eyes. That of Cappadocia,^[17] which is imported in small cubes, imparts a fine colour, it is said, to the skin; but, for effacing wrinkles, that which we have already spoken of as the salt of Citium is the best:^[18] hence it is that, in combination with gith, it is used by females as a liniment for the abdomen after childbirth.

Natural History 31

The next few excerpts not only emphasize the ultimate goal to achieve shiny and smooth skin and the rather outlandish things people would apply on it in order to achieve this goal, but also serve to show how closely cosmetics were associated with remedies for various medical conditions. What Pliny would often do was discuss one ingredient, such as oyster shells and antimony (book 33), and then survey all the things that it could be used for, jumping back and forth between purely aesthetic uses and more scientific ones. The second source gives an in-depth description of the complex procedure used to make tablets of antimony.

Calcined oyster-shells, mixed with honey, cure affections of the uvula and of the tonsillary glands: they are similarly used for imposthumes of the parotid glands, inflamed tumours, and hardening of the breasts. Applied with water, these ashes are good for ulcerations of the head, and impart a plumpness to the skin in females. They are sprinkled, too, upon burns, and are highly esteemed as a toothpaste. Applied with vinegar, they are good for the removal of prurigo and of pituitous eruptions.^[19]

Natural History 32

Stimmi is possessed of certain astringent and refrigerative properties, its principal use, in medicine, being for the eyes^[20] Hence it is that most persons call it “platyophthalmon,”^[21] it being extensively employed in the calliblepharie^[22] preparations of females, for the purpose of dilating the eyes … The method of preparing it, is to burn it, enclosed in a coat of cow-dung, in a furnace; once that is done, it is quenched with woman’s milk, and pounded with rain-water in a mortar. While this is happening, the thick and turbid part is poured off from time to time into a copper vessel, and purified with nitre. The lees of it, which are rejected, are recognized by their being full of lead and falling to the bottom. The vessel into which the turbid part has been poured off, is then covered with a linen cloth and left untouched for a night; the portion that lies upon the surface being poured off the following day, or else removed with a sponge. The part that has fallen to the bottom of the vessel is regarded as the choicest part, and is left, covered with a linen cloth, to dry in the sun, but not to become parched. This done, it is again pounded in a mortar, and then divided into tablets. But the main thing of all is, to observe such a degree of nicety in heating it, as not to let it become lead. Some people, when preparing it on the fire, use grease instead of dung. Others, again, bruise it in water and then pass it through a triple strainer of linen cloth; after which, they reject the lees, and pour off the remainder of the liquid, collecting all that is deposited at the bottom, and using it as an ingredient in plasters and eye-salves.

Natural History 33

The last source by Pliny from book 34 discusses how to make tablets of white lead which women used to whiten their skin. The Romans were aware of the poisonous properties of lead yet, like many other cultures, did not refrain from using it in the name of beauty.

Psimithium, which is also known as ceruse, is another production of the lead-works.^[23] The most esteemed comes from Rhodes.^[24] It is made from very fine shavings of lead, placed over a vessel filled with the strongest vinegar; by which means the shavings become dissolved. That which falls into the vinegar is first dried, and then pounded and sifted, after which it is again mixed with vinegar, and is then divided into tablets and dried in the sun, during summer. It is also made in another way; the lead is thrown into jars filled with vinegar, which are kept closed for ten days; the sort of mould that forms upon the surface is then scraped off, and the lead is again put into the vinegar, until the whole of the metal is consumed. The part that has been scraped off is triturated and sifted, and then melted in shallow vessels, being stirred with ladles, until the substance becomes red, and assumes the appearance of sandarach.^[25] It is then washed with fresh water, until all the cloudy impurities have disappeared, after which it is dried as before, and divided into tablets. Its properties are the same as those of the substances above mentioned. It is, however, the mildest of all the preparations of lead; in addition to which, it is also used by females to whiten the complexion. It is, however, like scum of silver, a deadly poison.^[26]

Natural History 34

USING COSMETICS ‘PROPERLY’

Ovid, Ars Amatoria 3.101-108

Next, Ovid reminds us of the delicate line women walked between needing to maintain their appearance but not seeming too obsessed with how they look, by saying they should take care not to weigh themselves down with overly lavish clothing and accessories. He also explains a rule of beauty that is still relevant today: that what flatters one woman may not flatter another, and informs his reader that she should choose hairstyles that suit her features:

Let not the nymph with pendants load her ear,

Nor in embroidery, or brocade, appear;

Too rich a dress may sometimes suppress desire,

And cleanliness rousse love’s fire more,

The hair arranged, may gain or lose a grace,

And much become or misbecome the face.

What suits your features ask your mirror.

For no one rule is fixed for head attire,

A face too long should part and flat the hair.

Ovid, Ars Amatoria 3.129-137

Next the poem takes a misogynistic turn as Ovid begins to discuss how women should hide the fact that they used cosmetics to improve their appearance. Even though they had to use makeup to be deemed suitable enough to marry, it was basically disgusting to see the evidence of their ‘deceit’. Ovid advises readers to apply makeup while men think they are sleeping so as to avoid them seeing the vile truth behind a woman’s appearance. The contradictory nature of cosmetics reveals itself once again by Ovid insisting their application is an offensive sight yet also consistently referring to it as an art.

I need not warn you of too powerful smells,
Which sometimes health or kindly heat expels;
Nor from your tender legs to pluck with care
The casual growth of all unseemly hair.^[27]
Though not to nymphs of Caucasus^[28] I sing,
Nor such who taste remote the Mysian^[29] spring
Yet let me warn you that through no neglect
You let your teeth disclose the least defect.
You know the use of white to make you fair,
And how with red lost colour to repair;
Imperfect eyebrows you by art can mend,
And skin, when wanting, o’er a scar extend;
Nor need the fair one be asham’d, who tries
By art to add new lustre to her eyes.

A little book I’ve made, but with great care,
How to preserve the face, and how repair.
In that, the nymphs by time or chance annoy’d,
May see what pains to please ’em I’ve employ’d,
But still beware that from your lover’s eye
You keep conceal’d the med’cines you apply:
Tho’ art assists, yet must that art be hid,
Lest whom it would invite it should forbid.
Who would not take offence to see a face
All daub’d and dripping with the melted grease?
And tho’ your unguents bear th’ Athenian name,
The wool’s unsav’ry scent is still the same.
Try not marrow^[30] of stags, nor your pomades,
Nor clean your furry teeth when men are by;
For many things, when done, afford delight,
Which yet, while doing, may offend the sight.

Ovid Continues…

While we think you sleep, repair your face,

Locked away from observers, in some secret place;

Add the last hand before you show yourselves ,

Why does your lover need to know of your need of art?

For many things when most concealed are best,

And few of strict enquiry bear the test.

Ovid, Ars Amatoria 3.193-218, 225-230

Livy was a Roman historian who wrote in the 1st century BCE and the next two sources are from his only surviving work, From the Founding of Rome. His comments are significantly more restrained, though they do make some generalizations about sex and gender. In both sources Livy argues that things like adornment, fashion, and makeup were the domains of women, whereas war and politics were the realms of men. Sources like these remind us that though men treated women who wore makeup extremely disrespectfully there was nonetheless an unspoken expectation that they would wear makeup in order to look nice.

Elegance, grooming, a fine appearance—these are the women’s insignia. These are their pride and joy. This is what your ancestors called ‘woman’s embellishment.

No offices, no priesthoods, no triumphs, no decorations, no gifts, no spoils of war can come to them; elegance of appearance, adornment, apparel —these are the woman’s medals; in these they rejoice and take delight; these our ancestors called the woman’s world.

Livy, From the Founding of Rome 34.7-8

 

NEGATIVE VIEWS OF FEMALE COSMETICS

For example, in this quote from book 11 of Pliny the Elder’s Natural History, some of the condescension with which some men regarded the use of makeup is apperent. Notice the contrast between what eyelashes are supposed to be for and what women do with them:

Men have eyelashes on the eyelids on either side; and women even make it their daily care to stain them; so ardent are they in the pursuit of beauty, that they must even colour their very eyes. It was with another view, however, that Nature had provided the hair of the eyelids — they were to have acted, so to say, as a kind of rampart for the protection of the sight, and as an advanced defence against the approach of insects or other objects which might accidentally come in their way.

Pliny the Elder, Natural History 11

As you can see from the above, two major sources for the use of cosmetics in ancient Rome are Pliny’s Natural History and Ovid’s Medicamina, which coincidentally also provide the two slightly more positive reviews of their use. Besides them, no other author made an effort to write a work about this topic, though fleeting remarks about makeup and beautification are still sprinkled throughout their works. Many of these comments are somewhat cruel jokes made at someone’s expense, ridiculing both men and women for allegedly using cosmetics in an attempt to improve their appearance. Some of the sources are more general remarks about standards of beauty or just comments that confirm that cosmetics were indeed widely used by women, and were sometimes considered to be a part of traditionally female pursuits.

Horace, a poet who also wrote under Augustus, represents the view of cosmetics as deceitful and not aligning with upstanding morals. In the first source he defines a ‘decent’ woman as one who does not attempt to look prettier, even though he and his contemporaries attacked women for being ‘ugly’:

Let her be fair, and straight, and so far decent as not to appear desirous of seeming fairer than nature has made her.

Horace, Sat. 1.2.123

This next source, also by Horace, shows that often in male eyes using makeup was synonymous with a woman being sexually depraved. Despite the hostility he and others write with, sources like these can still be somewhat useful to glean information about what ingredients women used in cosmetics. In this case, crocodile dung as blush. Though it is safe to assume Horace picked the most gross ingredient to mock this woman and that it was not actually widely used by women:

What a sweat and what a nasty smell comes from her withered limbs when, finding my penis limp, she presses on to satisfy her wild lust, her chalk makeup grows damp, and, along with the rosy colour produced from crocodiles’ dung, begins to run, and now in her animal heat she breaks the thongs of the bedstead and its canopy!

Horace, Epode 12

The next sources are from two satirical poets, Juvenal and Martial, who were both writing in the 1st century CE. Martial tended to write shorter epigrams often packed with insults towards specific people, yet both authors are significantly nastier than their contemporaries.

In the source by Juvenal he takes the negative reputation of cosmetics as evidence of moral corruption a step further by saying that a woman will wear greasy makeup in the presence her husband but take it all off for her lover. The source ends by him comparing a woman’s face to an actual ulcer.

But earlier in the process

She presents a sight as funny as it’s appalling,

Her features lost under a damp bread face-pack,

Or greasy with vanishing-cream that clings to her husband’s

Lips when the poor man kisses her — though it’s all

Wiped off for her lover. She takes no trouble about

The way she looks at home: those imported Indian^[31]

Scents and lotions she buys with a lover in mind.

First one layer, then the next: at last the contours emerge

Till she’s almost recognizable. Now she freshens

Her complexion with asses’ milk. (If her husband’s posted

To the godforsaken North, a herd of she-asses

Will travel with them.) But all these medicaments

And various treatments — not least the damp bread-poultice —

Make you wonder what’s underneath, a face or an ulcer.”

Juvenal, Satire 6.460-473

BODY MAKEUP AND PHYSICAL BEAUTY

The sources from Martial focus on how hideous women were considered to be in a natural state. He ridicules women for having bodies that are not in their physical prime, calling them out for having things such as stretch marks on their belly (things that would be expected after having borne children), like he does with a woman named Polla in the first source. The language he uses in the following sources can be quite offensive and his views are, on the whole, incredibly sexist. These sources demonstrate how men used women’s physical appearance as a way to attack them, and how women perhaps used cosmetics as a way to avoid these insults. They also stress that pale and smooth skin was the ideal in Rome, as wrinkles and marks on the skin are consistently brought up by Martial in his abrasive remarks.

You try to hide your belly’s wrinkles with bean-meal,^[32] Polla, but you smear your stomach, not my lips. Better that the blemish, perhaps a trifling one, be honestly shown. Trouble concealed is believed to be greater than it is.

Martial 3.42

This brief excerpt makes fun of a woman named Lycoris for going to Tibur (modern day Tivoli) with the hopes of whitening her skin and instead returning with even darker skin:

Hearing that the ivory of an ancient tusk turns to white in the suns of Tibur, dusky Lycoris went to Hercules’ hills. How potent is the air of lofty Tibur! In a short time she returned black.

(Loeb) 7.13:

Here Martial degrades a woman named Saufeia for not wanting to bathe with him (personally, I wouldn’t want to take a bath with Martial either), and sees this as evidence that she is hiding a revolting body from him. There truly is no way to win with Martial, he believes this means Saufeia is either incredibly ugly or is overly weak and insecure.

You want to be fucked, Saufeia, and you don’t want to take a bath with me. I suspect there’s something here very bad indeed. Either your breasts hang from your bosom like rags, or you’re afraid of betraying your belly’s furrows in the nude, or your split groin yawns with a bottomless cavern, or something protrudes from the mouth of your vagina. Oh, but there’s nothing like that, I’m sure, you are most beautiful in the nude. If that’s true, Saufeia, you have a worse blemish: you’re a prude.

Martial 3.72

This last source, which is especially vicious, demonstrates how ancient authors consistently equated cosmetics with deceit. Martial is comparing the odour of a woman, Thais, to various foul-smelling things to underscore how bad he thought she smelt. He then says she hides her true smell behind layers of cosmetics as one of her many tricks (though if she really smelt as bad as he says it seems it would be almost impossible to cover up).

Thais smells worse than the veteran crock of a stingy fuller,^[33] recently broken in the middle of the road, or a billy goat fresh from his armours, or a lion’s mouth, or a hide from beyond Tiber torn from a dog, or chicken rotting in an aborted egg, or a jar polluted with putrid garum. In order to exchange this stench for a different odor, whenever she takes off her clothes to get into the bath, the crafty lady is green with depilatory or lurks under a lining of chalk and vinegar, or is coated with three or four layers of thick bean meal. A thousand tricks, and she thinks she’s safe. But when all’s done, Thais smells of Thais.

Martial 6.93

Makeup and the cultivation of physical beauty in ancient Rome seemed to be a lose-lose situation for women. Perhaps if the sources we still have weren’t exclusively created by male authors, the overwhelming misogyny evident in our sources might not have been so ubiquitous.

Bibliography and Further Reading:

D’Ambra, Eve. Roman Women. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Johnson, Marguerite. Ovid on Cosmetics: Medicamina Faciei Femineae and Related Texts. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2016.

“Making Up a Woman The Face of Roman Gender” in Richlin, Amy. Arguments with Silence:                              Writing the History of Roman Women. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2014.                          https://muse.jhu.edu/ (accessed March 3, 2019).

Olson, Kelly. Dress and the Roman Woman. New York: Routledge, 2008.