But if there was little change in shoes, there was much in the fashion of head-dresses. Small rounded coiffures in satin or velvet, forming a harmonious frame to the face, succeeded to the ancient head-gear; or else graceful turbans, whose delicate softness could be perceived beneath a network of pearls or precious stones. The head-dress “à la passe-filon,” dating from the time of Louis XI., retained its place:— “Les cheveux en passe fillon, Et l’œil gay en émerillon,”[20] says Clément Marot. The hair was sometimes worn in curls round the face, and falling on the neck. Many women, however, imitated Marguerite of Navarre, by wearing ringlets on each side of the temples, and drawing back the hair above the forehead. Wire pins were first imported from England about 1545; before this invention ladies made use of extremely fine and flexible wooden pins or skewers. We have already mentioned these. There were, in fact, two distinct periods in the fashions under Francis I. From 1515 to 1526 feminine attire was still influenced by the Middle Ages, not only as regards form and cut, but also as to colouring, which was somewhat grave. Ladies were averse to low dresses, nor did they care for any fanciful trimmings. Some few even abstained from jewels and diamonds; their dress was graceful, but without studied elegance. From 1530 to 1545, on the contrary, tastes wholly changed. Women began to wear necklaces and beads, light-coloured stuffs, and rich trimmings; they became accustomed to baring the bosom and shoulders, and the habit grew yet more upon them. Dress became a mass of small details, and women were ingenious in contriving not to omit one of the thousand trifles intended to add to their attractions. In one word, coquetry began to wield its exclusive sway over the actions of women. To please became their only business. They used perfumes of all sorts—violet powder, Cyprus powder, civet, musk, orange flower, ambergris, rosemary, essence of roses. They refreshed their complexions with an infusion of the bean-flower, and washed with musk soap. In the latter part of the reign of Francis I., feminine head-dresses assumed a thoroughly artistic character, of almost exaggerated grace. The Church and certain writers began to murmur, but with as little effect as in the fifteenth century. A book entitled “Remontrance Charitable aux Dames et Damoiselles de France sur leurs Ornements dissolus,” implored women to renounce their “twists of hair,” which the author calls “ratrapenades.” Another work, “La Gauléographie,” thundered against the indecency of plaits; and a pamphlet, “La Source d’Honneur,” bestowed good advice on women, which they were careful not to follow.