80 Amazing Posts From The Victorian Era That Prove It Really Was A Different Time (New Pics)

When scrolling through sepia-toned photographs of the Victorian era, it is easy to assume that the 19th century was a deeply serious time filled with unsmiling people trapped in very tight clothing. While the corsets were indeed breathtakingly snug, the era itself was a bizarre carnival of contradictions, deeply weird trends, and practices that would send a modern health inspector into immediate cardiac arrest.

Beneath the veneer of stiff upper lips and prudish morality lay a society obsessed with the macabre, prone to poisoning themselves for aesthetic reasons, and employing people for jobs that sound entirely made up. If you see a photo of a stoic Victorian family, look closer, there is a non-zero chance that one of the people in the picture is actually deceased.

The practice of post-mortem photography, or "memento mori," was surprisingly common. Because photography was expensive and rapid transit rare, a family often wouldn't have a picture of a loved one until they died, leading them to prop up the dearly departed in lifelike poses for one final, slightly unsettling group shot.

If the long passed people in the photos don't disturb you, the fashion choices of the living certainly should. The Victorians loved vibrant colors, likely as a rebellion against the relentless gray sludge of industrial London sky. Their absolute favorite hue was a brilliant, eye-searing emerald green made popular by a dye called "Scheele’s Green."

It looked stunning on gowns, exquisite on wallpaper, and festive on children's toys, unfortunately, its primary ingredient was arsenic. It wasn't uncommon for women wearing these toxic frocks to suffer open sores on their skin, or for households with green wallpaper to slowly grow ill from inhaling poisonous dust. Historians have extensively documented how this fatal attraction to bright green baffled doctors who couldn't figure out why their most stylish patients kept wasting away, proving that being a fashion victim used to be a literal diagnosis.

The everyday hustle of the Victorian street was equally strange, filled with professions whose descriptions sound like entries in a dystopian Mad Libs. Before the iPhone alarm clock revolutionized our sleep schedules, people relied on a "knocker-upper." This was a person, usually an elderly man or woman wielding, generally, a long bamboo stick, who was paid to walk the streets at dawn tapping on bedroom windows until their clients woke up for their factory shifts. It was a human snooze button you couldn't easily ignore.

Even further down the career ladder were the "pure finders." In an age before synthetic chemicals, dog feces, known euphemistically as "pure", was a valuable commodity used in the tanning process to cure leather. Armies of poor collectors would scour the streets, scooping up canine deposits to sell to tanneries, creating an entire economy based on scooping refuse that Charles Dickens himself observed with morbid fascination.

Perhaps the most terrifying aspect of Victorian life, however, was dinner. Without modern regulations like the FDA, food adulteration was rampant and terrifyingly creative. Unscrupulous bakers would cut flour with chalk, alum, or plaster of Paris to make bread look whiter and weigh more, while milkmen watered down their product and added sheep's brains to create a frothy "cream" layer on top.

If this culinary nightmare made you ill, the medical remedies were often worse than the disease. You could soothe a teething baby with syrup laced with morphine or treat a persistent cough with heroin, which was marketed by Bayer as a non-addictive wonder drug. As records of Victorian pharmacy practices show, you could walk into a chemist shop and buy enough laudanum to knock out a horse, all without a prescription, which explains why so many people in those old photographs look slightly dazed.