In Elizabethan London, Shakespeare’s playing company, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, dressed as merchants, kings and soldiers on stage. What’s more, male players played women; from country maids to African princesses. Dressing up as someone you are not has always been a part of the theatre.  However, in Shakespeare’s time wearing the costume of another was potentially a disruptive, or even dangerous act.

Until 1604, England had laws which governed what any particular person could wear. Elizabethan sumptuary laws dictated which fabrics, garments, and accessories could be worn by people of differing social status. By definition, sumptuary laws were related to the limiting of private expenditure. The primary purpose of such laws was to curb excessive spending on clothing by those who could not afford to waste their money. Another purpose was that sumptuary laws helped to set clear visual distinctions between different strata of Elizabethan society. A statute from Elizabeth at Greenwich from 15 June 1574 reads:

‘The excess of apparel and the superfluity of unnecessary foreign wares thereto belonging now of late years is grown by sufferance to such an extremity that the manifest decay of the whole realm generally is like to follow’

Sumptuary laws played an important role in upholding the economic and social stability of Elizabethan England. As Maggie Secara [1] puts it; ‘If you couldn’t tell a milkmaid from a countess at a glance, the very fabric of society might unravel.’ The 1574 statutes refer specifically to ‘foreign wares’ as there was a particular concern in the Elizabethan period for keeping English wealth in England, as the consumption of foreign goods was increasing. The often more adventurous, or sumptuous, fashion trends of the European continent which were making their way onto London’s streets were causing disruptions to the normal social order.

So what exactly did these laws say people could and could not wear? The Elizabethan Sumptuary statutes seem mostly to be concerned with which colours, accessories, and fabrics could be worn by people of any social station. Before 1604, it was the law that ‘only the King, Queen, King’s Mother, children [and] brethren’ could wear ‘any silk of the color purple, cloth of gold tissued, nor fur sables.’ Outside of the Royal family, it was law that no woman could wear ‘Damask, taffeta, or other silk in any cloak or safeguard: except knights’ wives’. Elizabeth I’s sumptuary laws also stated which fabrics could be used for hats, and how long swords could be for men of different social strata. Carlo Belfanti [2] writes that a person’s clothing could be considered:

 ‘a largely accurate indicator of social class and/or ethnic group as well as marking age, profession, and, of course sex; social hierarchies were faithfully reflected in hierarchies of appearance’

So, clothing was central for the formation and display of identity in Elizabethan England, and sumptuary laws attempted to make sure that the clothes matched the identity of the wearer. Elizabethan society was highly structured and hierarchical, with social and legal mechanisms in place to ensure everyone stayed in their proper place. Sumptuary laws were part of this apparatus; attempting to stop people dressing up as something they were not. Indeed, in a culture where identity is based on outward appearance, if a person wore clothes intended for someone outside of their social station or gender, that person’s identity could change with their clothes. What might this mean for the players on Shakespeare’s stage who dressed as Kings, Queens, Lords and Ladies? A boy player dressed as Juliet potentially represents a startling destabilisation of personal identity.

It’s clear that ‘cross-dressing’ on the axis of social class or gender could have disruptive potential for the stability of Elizabethan society. However, it seems that the sumptuary laws which attempted to restrict dress weren’t all that effective, nor particularly enforced.

The 1574 Statutes from Greenwich state that the punishment for the violation of any of the sumptuary laws they set out shall be ‘forfeiture of £10 for every day, and imprisonment by three months.’ If the offending person didn’t have the money to pay the fine, the statute states ‘commit the offender to prison till he have paid the forfeiture.’ This sounds like fairly harsh punishment, and one might expect that the enforcement of such laws would wreak havoc on a society where sumptuous dressing was increasingly rife.

But if we look for evidence of sumptuary laws being enforced in Elizabethan England, we find very little. In 1565, Richard Walweyn was imprisoned for wearing ‘a very monsterous and outraygous greate payre of hose.’ It is likely he had been padding his calves to emulate the style of the Elizabethan Nobility who favored shapely legs in men. As Walweyn was a servant, sumptuary laws would not allow him to stuff his stockings with more than a yard and three quarters of material.

The record or Richard Walweyn is one of relatively few that exist of ordinary people being detained for violating sumptuary laws. It seems that though the laws were highly specific, they were also near impossible to enforce. Without a garrison of fashion police, sumptuary laws relied on social norms and regulation to keep the Elizabethan hierarchies of clothing based identity in place. As we know from the stories of cross-dressing women like Mary Frith, English people consistently broke the rules when it came to clothes.

Which brings us to the Globe theatre, where Shakespeare’s company probably broke just about every sumptuary law there was. With a young man playing Juliet, and a common player dressed King Richard II, Elizabethan theatre makers pushed boundaries, and perhaps called into question the nature of identity in their time.

It seems that by the time James VI of Scotland rose to the throne in England, people had realised that sumptuary laws would never work. On his first day in Parliament he got rid of them. Good riddance.