"Dandy Got Back": Indiscreet Lyrics on a Bizarre Trend in Victorian Portraits

Oh. My. God, Elizabeth. Look at his butt.

Vittorio Reggianini, The Coquette's Adventure, 1858

Drop the beat.

I LIKE--BIG--BUTTS and I shall not lie

You other ladies can't deny

That when a beau walks in with an itty bitty waist

And a round thing in your face

You get FLUSH--want to hit the fainting couch

'Cause you notice that butt was stuffed

Deep in the frock coat he's wearing.

I feel faint and I can't stop staring.

Oh BABY, want to walk me home

Without my chaperone?

Friends warned me against your capers,

But that butt you got gives ME THE VAPORS.

Ooh, William Shake-Rear,

You want to sample my tea-cake, dear?

Well, rock me, rock me

'Cause you ain't that average cockney.

I've seen him waltz

To hell with smelling salts

He's slammed, crammed,

Got it goin' like a railway tram.

I'm tired of pamphleteers

Sayin' flat butts are the thing

Take a marriageable lady and ask her that--

He gotta pack much back.

So, ladies (Yes?) ladies (Yes?)

Has your suitor got the butt? (INDEED!)

Tell him to shake it (Shake it!), shake it (Shake it!)

Shake that shapely butt.

Dandy got BACK. (West End face with the Shoreditch booty.)

Dandy got BACK. (West End face with the Shoreditch booty.)

I want 'em real thick and juicy

So find that juicy derriere

Just imagine my hysteria

Beggin' for a piece of that posterior.

A word to the thick-rumped gents, I want to see those fundaments

I shan't make lewd comments

But I gotta be frank when I say I want to (COOOUURRRT)

Til the break of DAWN.

Mister's got it goin' on!

Most spinsters won't approve of this song

'Cause coquettes like to hit it and quit it

And I'd rather tarry and marry,

My pedigree's long, and it's strong,

And I'm down to get the courtship on.

So, coxcombs (Yes?) dandies (Yes?)

You want to get a glimpse of my panties? (Why, yes!)

Then turn around. Stick it out.

Even Queen Vic's got to shout!

Dandy got back.

Dandy got back.

Yes, ladies, when it comes to gentlemen

London Quarterly ain't got nothin'

To do with my selection

Forty-six twenty-four thirty-six

Ha ha, only if he's 5'3.

So your suitor rolls a landau, like the dandy Captain Gronow

But Gronow didn't have a strongbox on the back of his landau

My rather prim quim DON'T. WANT. NONE

Unless you've got BUNS, HON.

Nope.

You can box or play at cricket

But, pray, don't lose that rump.

Some triflin' coquettes will say

The posterior is passe

So they jilt it, and leave it

And I hasten off to retrieve it.

So Blackwood's says you're portly.

Well I don't think that's courtly

'Cause your waist is trim and your cheeks are oval,

And I'm thinkin' betrothal.

So fellas with a full rear carriage,

If you're lookin' for some wet, hot marriage,

Send 15 Cross St., Tottenham

That naughty telegram.

Dandy got back.

Lithographs from Vanity Fair Magazine caricature collection, via U.K. National Portrait Gallery.