A fan is a delightful companion in warm weather or when confined to a stuffy room, but according to The Grand Magazine, its purpose extended far beyond mere cooling. It served as the perfect shield for a woman wishing to conceal herself — whether out of shyness, to mask less-than-perfect breath or teeth, or simply to avoid unwanted attention. Beyond this, the fan was a powerful instrument of silent communication, allowing a lady to convey her thoughts without uttering a single word.
In the Spectator of 27 June 1711, Joseph Addison remarked that “women are armed with fans, as men are with swords,” a sharp observation hinting at the fan’s potential as a weapon against unwanted suitors. For example, placing the fan against the left ear signaled a desire to be rid of a persistent admirer; carrying it in the right hand suggested the suitor was overly eager; and drawing the fan briskly through her hand delivered the unequivocal message, “I hate you.”
Yet, the fan was also a tool of flirtation and affection. Making eye contact while holding the fan in the left hand in front of the face expressed interest in an acquaintance, while pressing the fan’s handle to the lips conveyed a bold invitation: “kiss me.”
These discreet gestures collectively became known as The Language of Fans — a fascinating, silent code that added an intriguing dimension to social interaction in the Georgian era.
Yet, the likelihood of a gentleman truly mastering this intricate vocabulary of fan gestures was slim. After all, there were over two dozen distinct motions and signals to learn. It was the Parisian fan maker Jean-Pierre Duvelleroy who took it upon himself to unveil this secret language. In 1827, he published a detailed leaflet outlining the etiquette of fan use, which quickly gained widespread popularity.
The idea is undeniably romantic, the notion of The Language of Fans. However, the less glamorous reality was that Duvelleroy’s true aim was to revive flagging fan sales following their decline after the French Revolution. Evidently, his clever marketing gambit succeeded, as he later became a supplier of fans to Queen Victoria herself.
Still, it might be a delightful challenge to master this secret code should you ever find yourself wielding a fan at a formal gathering, be it a Jane Austen re-enactment or a Bridgerton-themed ball. Just be careful not to accidentally call someone cruel or proclaim an engagement that doesn’t exist!
If you have a fascination with 18th and 19th-century fans, The Fan Museum is an absolute must-visit. There, you can explore an exquisite collection showcasing fans of every shape and style, delicately carved from ivory and tortoiseshell, with leaves crafted from silk and gauze, and adorned with intricate embroidery or hand-painted designs.
The museum also offers insights into the traditional methods of fan-making — knowledge that proved invaluable when I wrote the short story The Winter Spirits. Below are just a few of my favourite fans, which I photographed during my visit in August 2023:
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