The man of fashion in 1720 wore the full-curled flowing Wig, which fell in ringlets half way down his arms and back; a Neckcloth tied tight round his neck; a Coat reaching to his ancles, laced, strait, formal, with buttons to the very bottom, and several on the pockets and sleeves; his Shoes were square at the toes, had diminutive buckles, a monstrous flap on the instep, and high heels; a belt secured the coat, and supported the Sword. A man advertised a wonderful Wig to be seen in Sidney-alley, Leicester-fields, at one shilling each person in February 1721. He said it was made without weaving or sewing; in short, as Sterne says, it might be immersed in the Ocean without derangement. The ladies wore Hooped Petticoats, scarlet Cloaks, and Masks, when walking. The Hoops were fair game for the wits, and they spared them not. "An elderly lady whose bulky squat figure By hoop and white damask was rendered much bigger, Without hood and bare-neck'd to the Park did repair, To shew her new clothes, and to take the fresh air; Her shape, her attire, rais'd a shout and loud laughter; Away waddles Madam; the mob hurries after. Quoth a wag, then observing the noisy crowd follow, As she came with a _hoop_, she is gone with a hollow." If the Flying Post of June 14, 1722, may be credited, the Bishop of Durham[323:A] appeared on horseback at a review in the King's train "in a lay habit of purple with Jack boots, and his hat cocked, and a black wig tied behind him, like a militant officer." George II. reviewed the Guards in 1727, habited in gray cloth faced with purple, with a purple feather in his hat; and the three eldest Princesses "went to Richmond in riding-habits with hats and feathers and _periwigs_." _Whitehall Evening Post, August 17._ If the reader will have the goodness to forgive the introduction of very vile doggrel lines, I will in turn present him with a Beau of 1727: