As the eighteenth century ended in revolution and war, fashions changed. Woman began wearing the simpler style of women’s clothing, known now as empire line, after the empire of Napoleon Bonaparte whose wife Josephine popularised the fashion.

But in the court of Queen Charlotte, queen of Great Britain, the hoops of her youth still prevailed. Which led to the bizarre fashion pictured above — an empire silhouette for the bodice, with a hoop, petticoat, and overskirt below. As if hoops weren’t enough to handle, the poor debutante of the time also had to handle a train, plus between three and eight ostrich plumes in her hair. Probably not pinned in place by a tiara, since tiaras were only for adults, and the girls being presented to the queen for the first time were generally too young to be regarded as adults. (Old enough to marry, though, since the purpose of their debut was to signal their availability as brides.)

All of which is by way of saying that, in the first episode of Brigerton, I picked up six historical errors before the first titles. The non-court style dress, the lack of ostrich feathers, the presence of the younger children in the audience at court… it goes on and on. By the time Anthony Brigerton dropped his pants, quite unnecessarily, since unbuttoning his fall would have been sufficient, I had quite sensibly given up.

The story Julia Quinn wrote was Fiction. The Shondaland version was Fantasy — a delightful froth with a mashup of fashions, practices, and historical miscellany. I loved it. I recommend it. It’s a delightful romp. And I hope it will lead to a greater interest in the genre I love. But if you’re going to watch it, leave your historical research knowledge at the door.