This small and seemingly inconsequential object goes by many names: tussy mussy, tussie-mussie, and nosegay or bouquet holder. Displayed in Daisy’s bedroom at Dalnavert Museum, it is easy to overlook as it is overshadowed by the large furniture and competes for our attention with many delicate, feminine items spread across the dresser. These items include a hand-held silver mirror and hairbrush, silver cosmetic containers, and the silver monogramed calling-card case, all of which signal the social status and femininity of the room’s tenant, a young, upper-middle-class socialite.

Featuring an intricate gold design and mother-of-pearl handle, this small object, which can be held lightly in one’s hand, carries with it a rich history of Victorian society. Designed as an instrument for holding a lady’s bouquet of flowers – like a small, handheld, tapered vase – the tussy mussy was a symbol of social class and fashion. It was also a tool that featured in courtship, and a weapon used against the foul odours of Victorian streets, odours which many people believed carried disease. Dalnavert Museum’s tussy mussy, which features gold metal curves and spirals on two sides, references the French Rococo style of art that emerged in the eighteenth century.¹ The other sides feature two small, oval mirrors, which creates a four-sided open vessel in which to place a bundle of flowers. Paired with the mirrors and the ornate golden, swirling shapes, are four round cabochon stones made of glass. At the opening, there is a gold chain with a gold pin attached that was used to secure the flowers in place. Below the gold metal design and the mirrors is a white carved handle made of mother-of-pearl that has a somewhat iridescent quality. The top of the handle features a spiral design that leads into a series of bubble-like carvings that decrease in size, like the tail of a rattlesnake. At the end of the handle, there is a gold chain and ring that resembles a modern key chain, which gave the user an alternative way to carry the bouquet, either by hooking it onto a chatelaine or slipping a finger through the ring.²

Notably, the term ‘tussy mussy’ could be used to mean both a handheld vase and the bouquet of flowers it contained. Whether worn or carried, a small bouquet of flowers was a popular lady’s fashion accessory in the Victorian period. A symbol of social class, the tussy mussy was typically worn or held “at dinner parties, concerts and balls.”³ Featuring ornate designs and costly materials, such as gold, silver, gemstones, and jewels, these objects were used exclusively by the middle and upper classes. As the Smithsonian Museum points out, “bouquet holders were a necessity for the well-dressed Victorian lady. Along with fans, parasols, gloves and dance cards, they were must-have accessories for women attending balls.”⁴ Signalling both her affluence and her taste, these ornate bouquet holders made a lady’s costume complete.

Whether “held close to the nose, or worn as a brooch, a hair ornament, or tied around the waist,”⁵ the popularity of the tussy mussy went hand in hand with the Victorian fascination with floriography or the language of flowers. In the Victorian era, sending coded messages through the gift or display of flowers became a popular courtship practice. Books on floriography provided their readers a guide to the different meanings of flowers, although some meanings varied between books. For example, Kate Greenaway’s 1884 book Language of Flowers lists thirty-four different kinds of roses, each with a distinct message.⁶ As Sudre Havenga points out, the messages communicated by the exchange of flowers could be quite complicated. Havenga explains that, when flowers were exchanged, “the tussie-mussie did the talking. When you gave your intended a rose tussie-mussie the message was ‘I love you.’ If she sent one back with a yellow rose she was only interested in friendship. But if your tussie-mussie came back with a coral rose, the message was desire.”⁷ While these floral messages added excitement and mystery to courtship, tussy mussys offered potential lovers another means of navigating the difficulties of budding relationships. Like the one in Dalnavert’s collection, some bouquet holders “featured little mirrors, which enabled the owner to steal a glance at a nearby gentleman.”⁸ At a time when many women felt pressure to make an advantageous matrimonial match with a wealthy husband, it is not surprising that a woman would want to keep a close eye on her competition.

Perhaps the most surprising use for the tussy mussy was to ward against unpleasant odours, which were pervasive in the Victorian period. Many Victorians, including scientists and medical professionals, believed that bad smells caused disease. According to Stephen Halliday, “the idea that foul air, in the form of a ‘miasma’, was the invariable cause of epidemics was to remain medical orthodoxy until well into the nineteenth century.”⁹ In the streets of London, the air was comprised of various odours, including horse dung, smoke,¹⁰ and human waste before the implementation of sewage systems.¹¹ As Halliday notes, even as medical knowledge of contagious disease improved, “Foul air, overcrowding and filth”¹² continued to be blamed for the spread of diseases like cholera. One theory, proposed by health reformer Edwin Chadwick in 1842, maintained that awful smells could predispose “urban populations to epidemic disease with little if any need for the intervention of external agencies. All that was required was a really nasty smell.”¹³ While scientists and medical practitioners debated theories and solutions regarding odours and disease, some well-to-do Victorians decided to use fragrant flowers to try to fight against smell and associated illnesses. More than a fashionable accessory, the tussy mussy was consequently valued for its perceived ability to prevent disease from entering the body.

While the tussy mussy is at risk of being overlooked due to its size, it is clearly an item with cultural significance. As an object owned and used by the middle and upper classes, the tussy mussy teaches us about class hierarchies in the Victorian period. It reveals that certain luxuries were so easily accessed by the higher classes that they become ‘necessities’ for maintaining a privileged woman’s social position. While the tussy mussy brings to mind the beauty of a Victorian-era ballroom, it also alerts us to grim realities of nineteenth-century urban life. More than a fashion accessory, the tussy mussy binds together varying aspects of Victorian era life as different as coded communication between lovers and the offensive smell of a Victorian city street.