by Kimberly Keagan
When I think of bloomers, the image that comes to mind is Victorian underwear. Honestly, I picture Little Bo Peep—and I’m not sure why! But that’s not quite right. What we often call “bloomers” today actually began as something very different. The underwear of the 1800s was known as drawers or pantaloons. The real bloomers? They were a bold, reform-minded fashion statement named after Amelia Jenks Bloomer.
Born on May 27, 1818, in Homer, New York, Amelia came from modest means and had only a few years of formal education. She began teaching at seventeen and within a few years moved to Seneca Falls, where she was a governess. It was probably there that she first became interested in social reform. Among the causes she championed were temperance, women’s rights, dress reform, church charities, and humanitarian movements.
In April 1840, at the age of twenty-two, she married Dexter Bloomer, a young law student who not only supported her writing but encouraged it—inviting her to contribute to the Seneca Falls County Courier, where he worked. A strong advocate of her reform efforts, Dexter even gave up alcohol as part of her commitment to the temperance movement.
In 1849, Amelia launched The Lily: A Ladies’ Journal Devoted to Temperance and Literature. Although the paper began with a focus on temperance, it gradually expanded into broader advocacy for women’s rights.
One of her most enduring legacies came through her involvement in the mid-19th century dress reform movement. Amelia and other reformers advocated replacing long, heavy skirts, tight corsets, and layers of petticoats with something healthier and more practical. Elizabeth Smith Miller, cousin to Elizabeth Cady Stanton, introduced a version of the “Turkish dress”—a shorter overskirt worn over loose trousers gathered at the ankles. Amelia adopted the style herself and promoted it in The Lily. It wasn’t long before the public gave the outfit a name: bloomers.
Photo: National Park Service
Courtesy of the Library of Congress
Around 1859, Amelia stopped wearing bloomers. Other clothing reforms, such as lighter skirts and the introduction of crinolines, made movement easier without drawing as much social backlash. However, she continued championing women’s rights.
Even apart from her role in dress reform, Bloomer made lasting contributions to the causes of temperance, suffrage, and social reform. She continued to write, speak, and organize—giving women a platform through The Lily and beyond, especially those who had few ways to make their voices heard.
Later in life, she and Dexter moved to Iowa, where she remained active in the suffrage movement. Amelia Bloomer died on December 30, 1894, in Council
Bluffs, Iowa. In an article published on January 1, 1896 in The Daily Nonpareil, a Council Bluffs newspaper, the following tribute was given to Amelia:
“In the death of Mrs. Amelia Bloomer, Council Bluffs loses one of its oldest and most prominent residents. …Her name has become firmly linked with every reform movement for the uplifting and betterment of woman's condition during the last 50 years. …Although her death will bring sorrow too many a friend the remembrance of her kindly life and drew Christian character will remain as an inspiration to them for all time to come. Earnest and steadfast as was her life and character so she died trusting in the faith that has always shown her shown through her kind words and deeds. She'll never be forgotten for her influence with that of other good women has done more to make the civilization of the West a possibility than the many inventions of modern science.”
Amelia Jenks Bloomer was a woman ahead of her time — a reformer, writer, editor, and activist whose name is forever linked to a style of dress, but whose influence stretched far beyond controversial womenswear.
Kimberly Keagan is a former corporate financial writer (not very romantic) who now crafts historical romances filled with strong heroines, swoon-worthy heroes, faith, and a touch of humor. Her debut novel, Perfect, released in May 2025.
Zella Capp has built her life on independence and a carefully guarded secret. When she’s offered the chance to lead an ambitious new publication for Denwall Department Stores, she’s thrust into the world of Philadelphia’s high society, where every glance is a test, and every word could be a weapon.
As Zella juggles chaotic production deadlines and dazzling social events, she finds herself drawn to Bert Walraven, a guarded executive who prefers numbers to notoriety whose recent brush with danger has left him more protective than ever. When anonymous threats and sabotage endanger Zella’s hard-won success, she and Bert must confront the pasts they’ve fought to bury.
In a world obsessed with appearances, can they risk everything for a love that’s real?
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