the costlinesse and the curiositie: the excesse and the
vanitie: the pomp and the braverie; the change and the varietie: and
finallie the ficklenesse and the follie that is in all degrees:
insomuch that nothing is more constant in England than inconstancie of
attire."[50] Each one aimed at making the best appearance. The long
seams of men's hose were set by a plumb line, and beards were cut to
suit the face, "If a man have a leane and streight face, a Marquess
Ottons cut will make it broad and large; if it be platter-like, a long,
slender beard will make it seeme the narrower." "Some lustie courtiers
also, and gentlemen of courage doo weare either rings of golde, stones,
or pearle in their eares, whereby they imagine the workmanship of God
not to be a little amended."[51] All are familiar with the brilliant
female dress of the time. The enormous starched ruffs of various
colors, the long stomachers stiffened with wire and studded with
jewels, the costly stuffs enriched with gold and silver, made up a
costume which has never been surpassed in extravagance and fanciful
exaggeration.

The queen herself set the example of brilliancy of costume, and took
care to be outshone by none. Sir John Harrington relates that "Ladie M.
Howarde was possessede of a rich border, powdered wyth golde and pearle
and a velvet suite belonginge thereto, which moved manie to envye; nor
did it please the queene, who thought it exceeded her owne. One daye
the queene did sende privately, and got the ladie's rich vesture, which
she put on herself, and came forthe the chamber amonge the ladies; the
kirtle and border was far too shorte for her majestie's heigth; and
she asked everyone, 'How they likede her new fancied suit?' At length
she askede the owner herself, 'If it was not made too shorte and ill
becoming?'--which the poor ladie did presentlie consente to. 'Why,
then, if it become not me, as being too shorte, I am minded it shall
never become thee, as being too fine; so it fitteth neither well.' This
sharp rebuke abashed the ladie, and she never adorned her herewith any
more."[52]

It was the fashion to walk in the aisles of St. Paul's Church, which
became a general rendezvous for business or pleasure. A facetious
writer of the time, instructing a young gallant how to procure his
clothes, and to show them off to the best advantage, gives an amusing
picture of the prevailing vanity and foppery. "Bend your course
directly in the middle line, tha