February 29, the Calendrical Oddity that pops up every four years* to keep our calendars synchronized with the stars, really is little more than a Calendrical Oddity now. At some point in roughly the fifth century it became a day associated with the reversal of traditional gender roles. It seems Saint Brigid and Saint Patrick were sitting around in Ireland one day after the snakes had been chased out, and Brigid shared a lot of the complaints she’d been getting from Irish girls about how long it was taking their men to propose marriage. After some spirited negotiation, Saint Patrick finally allowed women to propose to men, but only on Leap Day, the day that came around least in the calendar.
It’s worth noting that men receiving proposals were not obligated to accept them! But they’d have to buy their way out of it, either with a dozen pairs of gloves (in Denmark - supposedly for the woman to hide the shame of having no wedding ring to wear) or a silk gown or a fine of £1 (thanks to England’s Queen Margaret in the 13th century).
Fast forward a few centuries to the United States. Aside from being known as a “spinster’s holiday” and occasioning lots of jokes about male safety, Leap Day was principally observed with a dance in the evening to which women would invite men to attend and to dance. Back in the day, ladies would sit on little chairs around the perimeter of the ballroom where gentlemen would approach them to ask for a dance. (With their backs against the wall like this, this is where the term “wallflower” comes from.) At a Leap Day dance, it would be the gentlemen in those little chairs while the ladies got to choose their partners.
Etiquetteer has always had a special fondness for the Leap Day dance for a unique reason: Etiquetteer’s grandparents were married at a dance on Leap Day, 1924, as a complete surprise. Though it does seem the proposal happened in the traditional way, Dear Grandfather having gone down on bended knee some time earlier to Pop the Question, only their parents, siblings, the officiant, and the bandleader had any idea what would be happening. And it seems the parents of the groom weren’t there anyway; it was their bridge night.
At the time they both worked for the same company, which was holding a Leap Day dance for employees. A “grand march” still figured on dance programs in the 1920s, and the grandparents were to lead it. Imagine the surprise of the assembly, all lined up, when the band launched into “Here Comes the Bride.” No one was expecting that musical selection! Imagine even greater surprise as, when the march came to its final figures, an honest-to-goodness Justice of the Peace took his place on the bandstand. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here to join this man and this woman . . . “ Excitement! Sadly for history, all that excitement meant no one took any photographs at the dance.
Obviously the game would have been given away if Dear Grandmother had appeared in the ballroom in traditional bridal white with a veil and a bouquet. She and her mother made for her a beautiful dancing dress of orange** crepe georgette, Perfectly Proper for a surprise Leap Day wedding, arousing no suspicions of a Great Event.
So whether you are asking someone to marry you*** or reversing traditional gender roles in another way, or celebrating the History Project’s 40th birthday with Etiquetteer this afternoon, Etiquetteer would like to wish you a Perfectly Proper Leap Day - which of course means looking before you leap.
Dear Grandfather in an “official” wedding portrait taken after the fact.
*Except when it doesn’t, once every 100 years.
**Coincidentally, orange was worn by brides in ancient Rome.
***Not in public, please! So embarrassing if you’re declined, like what happened to this poor girl.