In 1772 came a periodical for the smart young man of the day, entitled the Maccaroni Magazine, or Monthly Intelligence of the Fashions and Diversions. The maccaroni proper flourished only for a brief period, from 1770 to 1773, and by 1776, as we learn from Miss Burney, the word was no longer the ton though it was still occasionally applied to the beau or the dandy. But for a couple of years the novels, the plays, and the caricatures all made capital out of the eccentricities and extravagances of the maccaroni.

A flower or two culled from his own magazine may give some faint idea of the picturesqueness of his style. For example, from the masculine fashion notes for October 1772, we learn that ” Hats are rising behind and falling before. The blazing gold loop and full moon button are now totally exploded, and succeeded by a single narrow looping, broad hat-band, and pin’s-head button. In full-dress the three buckles zigzag with the foretop a la grecque. Roses are entirely confined to Cheapside, and bags are increasing daily. The late stunting of coats having promoted the growth of skirts, the pockets are capable of holding conveniently a tolerable-sized muslin handkerchief and smelling-bottle. Shoes are decreased in heels two inches, and cut like a butter-boat to show the clocks of the stockings.”

A few months later we read that “trimmed suits have quite gone out, even among the gravest characters, and are replaced by the French frock, while the large hat, not being able to make itself universal enough to establish a fashion, has compromised the matter with the Chapeau Petite (sic) by taking a medium. The head is dressed rather lower, with one slanting sidecurl en deshabillel’ These interesting hints are further elucidated by spirited plates representing the various types of exquisite of the period the military, gambling, duelling, legal, and clerical maccaronis. These sketches of dead – and – gone dandies are as full of life and ” momentariness ” as a Sargent portrait ; they seem to strut and flutter before us, each in his habit as he lived. Their pointed toes scarcely touch the ground, and the perfume still clings to their gossamer handkerchiefs ; the tilt of their swords, the sweep of their hats, the poise of their decorative persons all these are so many object-lessons in the art of deportment.

From: George Paston: Side-lights on the Georgian period. (1902)