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Wednesday, 16 May 2018

Printed Cotton Ensemble ca 1790




I have done it! My first 18th-century frock is finally done, and so is my thesis! April was a month of finishing projects, and May will be a month of catch up and hopefully getting back to creative endeavors.

This project is a very long time coming, and I feel like I spent more time planning than sewing, but overall I am pleased with how it turned out. 

I started this project in February 2018, and according to my Instagram stories, it took 11 weeks to complete.  I could have done this much quicker, and it probably won't take me so long in the future, but there was a steep learning curve for the hand sewing and fitting. Now that I have some experience, I feel much more confident for my next project which I am already planning 

Fabric detail and the very helpful American Duchess 

Fabrics
This project was made from the ubiquitous IKEA bedding which I got for a very good price on boxing day (LJUSOGA - 39.99 CAD for a King size, the equivalent to 11 meters of fabric!!!?!). This pattern has since been discontinued, but IKEA still offers a lot of good 18th-century options. Overall, I would say this was very nice material to work with and is most certainly the most economical way for getting accurate(ish) printed cotton in Canada. I still have enough left to make a Bedgown (which I have in the works), and probably another jacket, or small piece. 

I used some very pretty ivory lace at the collar and cuffs for some extra detail and texture, as well as made a burgundy organza bow to pin to my centre front. 


Pattern and Design
I based the design on this ensemble on my favourite piece from the Colonial Williamsburg collection (1990.10.2). I wanted something that had an air of effortlessness while still being fashionable. I think the separate jacket and matching petticoat achieve this very nicely and have the added benefit of being more versatile than a gown. I did my best to draft this exactly as it appears in the Colonial Williamsburg, but in the end, made some small adjustments, and fixes to my own errors.

To make a pattern, I drafted my own and used the American Duchess Guide (specifically the chapter on the Italian gown) to give me basic shapes. The instructions were very helpful and I
am very proud that the entire thing is hand stitched. I would not have been able to do that without the help from the ladies at American Duchess.


The skirt on the jacket is made of 8 panels of fabric that I stitched together using a mantua-makers seam. This helped save on fabric while getting the proportions I wanted. I probably could have just used the single piece that was left after all the cutting but doing it the "hard way" meant that I had more volume and length to work with. I love that the jacket skirt sits at the fullest part of my hips. It is very flattering and accentuates that late 18th-century silhouette. 

What went wrong…
Overall, I am pleased with how this turned out, but there were some hiccups and more to learn than I initially thought. The good news is I still have a gorgeous garment and know what to watch out for in the future.  

I ended up having the piece the lower sleeves below the elbow - because I did not listen to Lauren and Abby and made them too tight - but they turned out just fine in the end. Piecing was very easy, and it gives my jacket a bit of individual flair. It almost looks like a cuff and bothers me far less than I thought it would.

Stitching together the front panel and back bodice.
The other mistake I made was not cutting the front panel lining on the bias. I did for the fashion fabric but forgot when cutting the lining. This results in the fashion fabric puckering in some places, but it is not horrible.

Lastly, though this is not a mistake so much as an observation, in my next jacket I will make sure the side seams are closer to the front (these ones were quite far back) so that I fit the bodice on my body more easily. I don’t have a helper, and my dress form is woefully misshaped for this kind of work. I could have easily made what is the front into two pieces so that I could reach the side seam, so that is what we shall do next time. 


I am not sure when next time will be, the search for fabric continues, but I have the design all planned out. In the meantime, I am going to work on accessories such as a cap and neckerchief. Time to practice my fine stiching! Wish me luck.

-Happy Sewing!

Wednesday, 21 February 2018

Printed Cotton Ensemble | Planning and Research

I have been agonising over my first 18th-century ensemble for what feels like a year now. And I have finally decided on what to make. I am going to make a jacket and matching petticoat in printed cotton.

The runner-up was an Italian Gown, but I wanted something with some versatility, and I think that once I grow my 18th-closet, I can use the pieces of the matching ensemble with other garments. The Italian gown will have to wait, but I suspect not for long.

Research

Colonial Williamsburg, 1990-10,1 and 1990-10,2 | Women's Jacket and Petticoat, India Chintz. 

I am basing my ensemble off one of my favourite pieces in the Colonial Williamsburg Collection, but with some of my own modifications. I think I will make the petticoat precisely as it appear in the extant garment (but maybe with a longer flounce) but will make some small additions and changes to the jacket.

I will be making the jacket in the "baby Italian gown" style with the point low back waist seam and pleats, but I think 3/4" length sleeves will be more flattering on me (and that is my preferred sleeve length).  I will also add some small ruffles at the neckline and sleeves to add some extra texture and interest. I will have lots and lots of fabric for this project so I might as well use it.

In the extant garment, there are 4 back sections (2 each side) with the side seam coming round under the arm. I have draped this out on my form, and the fit is good, but I am considering moving the side seams closer to the back to create narrower back sections for some visual interest in the back, but I am unsure of how this will alter the fit of the garment.

I am going to tackle the petticoat first and think about the problem of the back panels for a while. Any advice would be much appreciated.

-Happy Sewing

Monday, 19 February 2018

Diagnosing Problems on my Stays

For those of you that have been following me on Instagram, you may have noticed that I am working on a new pair of stays already.

I had thought that my first pair was "good enough" - and in many ways they are - but as I wore them around the house and worked them in, I started to notice more and more problems which would result in frustration when it came to fitting and wearing a gown. In addition to the fit problems, I have happily learned so much in the last 8 months that I now see some of my issues are due to incorrect period/style for the silhouette I was going for.

So buckle up for an episode of "Morg critiques her own work and learns from mistakes hopefully!"



The Fabric Choice  |  The fabric I used was not bad. In fact, there are a lot of things I like about the cotton canvas, but in the end, two layers of canvas were not enough to create the structure I was hoping for. The panels are quite soft and are very very comfortable, and provide a surprising amount of support for the bust, but let me move around and bend at the waist quite significantly.

The Pattern | I used Butternick B4254. Yep, a commercial pattern. And you know what? It isn't bad. The shape of each panel is actually quite good, and it has a lot of customisation built right in. HOWEVER, the back panel goes up very high, and the front is very low. This style is much better the later decades, say 1784-1790ish, and so do not give me the elegant flat front I was looking for.  Without making a stomacher, these stays give me a very pronounced prow front and much softer bust line.

The Fit |  This is where I have the most room for improvement. I did make some modification to the commercial pattern in order to have them fit better but didn't make a mockup after my adjustments so it still did not fit as I would like.

Overall they are about 2-3 inches too wide all the way around. I can close these right up, back and front. Ideally, I should have more space to adjust the tightness.

They are also too wide across the front of the chest which pushes the armholes too far back pinching my armpits and gaping in the front.

The New Pair

Work in Progress | Already some big improvements

The Fabric | 
My new pair will be made from 2 layers of linen horsehair stabiliser (a good approximation of buckram) a light blue linen outer layer and then lined with cotton.  Already the pieces are much stiffer than my original and I think will be a huge improvement.

The Pattern | I still used the Butternick pattern as a base, but I made many alterations. I lengthened the front by about 3.5 cm and reduced the overall width by 5cm. I was a bit too aggressive in reducing the waist but I am still much happier with the fit. I also lowered the back, made them strapless and changed the shape of the neckline. *phew*

I will do I fuller write up when they are complete.

I am pretty happy with the changes I have made to these, but I am regretting the choice to make the back lacing... I am starting to wonder if  I will ever be satisfied... 

Monday, 15 January 2018

The American Duchess Guide to 18th Century Dressmaking | A review


I took quite a lot of time to think about how I felt about this book. Not because it isn't great, but because the authors, Lauren Stowell and Abby Cox, had a very clear role for this book to play in costumers libraries, and I was unsure of how this book would be received to those people who may not have the library the authors have. Until very recently, my only access to the works referred to in the Guide were from my university's library and snippets online, so I feared that these resources may be out of reach for many beginner costumes.

But at the heart of every review is the question "would I recommend this book?" and I have to say a very strong and enthusiastic YES  despite my aforementioned hesitation; however, my recommendation comes with a heavy caveat. To make the most out of this book I recommend having at least one other 18th-century book with grid patterns (either Janet Arnold or Norah Waugh) or be working from/ have access to existing patterns. The authors have said in many places that this is not a stand-alone book and it fits into existing literature, and as such one would not be able to make a gown with only this book.  Though I do think that this makes the book less accessible to beginners,  I think the authors accomplish what they set out to do with aplomb.

It is the subtitle of this book really captures what I think the authors succeeded most at and where the reader will learn the most: How to Hand Sew Georgian Gowns and Wear Them with StyleThe detailed hand sewing instructions are wonderful and clear, as are the instructions on different stitches, and the patterns and styling notes for accessories make this book well worth the price of purchase. The accessories and styling notes alone make this book worth every penny.  I also really enjoyed that the authors encouraged the reader to get into the mindset of a mantuamaker, saving fabric where possible and not being to hung up on things that cannot be seen in the finished garment. They encourage the reader to "sew fearlessly," which I think is a wonderful mantra.

The book itself is gorgeous and seemingly well made. The typography and layout throughout are nice a clean. The pages are a good weight with a handsome semi-gloss, and I love that the book is bound free from the spine so that it can be opened flat without breaking the paper spine, or having the pages trying to close on you.
Left: 'Portrait of a Lady' by Francis Cotes, 1768.  Photo © Tate. CC-BY-NC-ND 3.0 Right: Abbey of American Dutchess, one of the authors, in her dress inspired by the portait on the left. Photo by American Duchess and taken from the blog
This is not to say that the book is flawless, there are some minor editing errors, and misnumbered instructions and pictures, but it does not hugely detract from the usefulness or enjoyment of the book. There are a few places where I longed for more information (a section on laces for example) but I think that I wanted more from the authors is a sign of how accessible and useful I found their writing rather than a flaw in and of itself. The authors did not leave me feeling as though I was missing a large amount of information, but only craving more detail and more of their down to earth approach to dressmaking.

Throughout the book I felt as though Lauren and Abby were the reader's cheerleaders, reassuring us that mistakes can be fixed and sewing is always a process. This encouragement and permission to make mistakes was a welcome tone for a book which simultaneously calls for rigorous research and strives for historical accuracy down to every stitch. A very careful balance which I think the authors achieved marvellously.

One of the book's less obvious strengths is not in the book at all, but the authors' engagement with the community online. Already we have received 2 official addendums to the book and Lauren and Abby have been easily accessible for questions and advice on their facebook page and blog. For correction on the cap pattern visit this blog post. For a full grided pattern of the Italian gown visit this blog post. And finally, for a blog post all about stays, check this out!

Overall this book would be an excellent addition to a budding or established library but does not stand alone.

Resources




Wednesday, 3 January 2018

18th Century Fabric Dying | Georgian January Challenge


Over of Instagram, the lovely Dames a La Mode is hosting her third annual Georgian January Instagram challenge, and I thought that I would also use the challenge to learn a bit more about the 18th century. So I am going to try to write a blog post every week(ish) inspired by her prompts. To kick things off she gave us 9 whole days of colour, so I decided to look into how fabrics were dyed! Lovely soft confectionery colours are a staple of the eighteenth century so it seemed appropriate.

There is a lot of information on this topic, and I am not expert. This is just some neat information I have found and I encourage you to do your own research if you want to really learn how to dye fabric. This is more an exercise in understanding for me, but I am glad to take you along with me.

Dyes were most commonly plant-based dyes (very rarely animal) and these plant-based dyes did a much better job dyeing animal fibres such as wool and silk than linen or cotton. In wool and silk, almost any naturally achievable dye (i.e. not a synthetic dye) was possible. Green was a particularly tricky colour, needing at least two dye baths (twice the work), but extant examples do exist alongside vivid reds, blues, yellows and rich browns. Of course, paler pastel version of all these colours exist as well, and I suspect it was because they were not only fashionable but also easier and cheaper to make. However, some plant-based colours were easier to achieve (not to mention lasted longer) than other. This is why we see a lot of red and blue throughout the century. They were relatively easy and reliable colours to achieve on a variety of fibre types.  To my surpise black is a harder colour to dye taking up to 4 baths to acheive even and rich colour. It seem the richer and darker the colour, the more expensive too!

From Left to Right: Green Silk Round Gown c. 1775 from The Met; Blue Silk Round Gown c.1725-89 from the Met; Red Chints Cotton and Linen Gown c. 1780s from the Rotterdam Museum
Cotton and Linen fabric were much more limited in their colour retention (linen really only holding red and browns) but of the two, cotton was much easier and the fabric of choice for the typical chintzes/block prints of the century. In my research, I stumbled on a wonderful video by The Met of The Art of Making Chintz which I highly recommend for those interested in the process, but suffice it to say,  it was a long and detailed process. Printed cottons are, for me, one of the hardest fabrics to find in our modern stores and there are a lot of "don'ts" that float around the costuming community. For instance, I have heard that it was impossible to have green in prints, but I have found that is not true. Green can be seen in chintz and prints throughout the 18th century but was a blue-based (not vivid yellow-based green) which muted and darkened the colour.  Yellows could be painted on after blue dye baths to achieve different greens and oranges but this would have likely increased the cost of the fabric due to the extra labour and care taken. If you are looking to train you "eye for fabric" check out the Marquise Blog and Demode. They have some great examples of printed and patterned fabrics which will help you know what to look for on your next trip to the fabric store.



There is so much more information out there but since doing a bit of reading I am feeling so much more confident about my ability to spot period appropriate fabric (looking at you bedspread from IKEA).

Resources

18th Century Note Book - Eighteenth-century dying recipes 

Monday, 4 December 2017

18th Century Black Gowns | Some research and thoughts


So my story beings with a promise to myself: "Natasha, you will not buy more fabric until you have used what you have in your stash." As it turns out this was a great idea for getting rid of lots of notions, and scraps, as well as basics that I had been lugging with me quite literally across the country. I made my shift, stays, pockets and false rumps all out of fabric I had on hand.

Now when it comes to the dress fabric, well that is a different story. On hand, I have 8 meters of beautiful black brocade and was set on using it to make my first 18th-century gown. However, as it turns out black and brocade together are not particularly fashionable in this period. Anyone who has done even a small amount of research into 18th-century fashions will know that supple silk taffetas and printed cottons in bright colours were all the rage. So, what is one to do when stuck with heavy black brocade?

Well in my case, I researched, and researched and researched. I knew that black brocade would have existed in the 18th c. and there would have been garments made out of it (because if it exists then people do wear it), so I just had to find the right examples. In my research, I found scholars mention black petticoats and occasionally gowns, but never the type of fabric. And when scouring art and museum collections, I would find either a black dress or a brocade dress. Though I could find ample art records of black dresses, they were almost always of satin or taffeta, not brocade. I oscillated between feeling sad I wouldn't look like the gorgeous confections we are accustomed to seeing, and being determined to find an example of black brocade.

So I decided to focus on just black gowns for a while, and ignore the brocade. In the 18th century, it was fashionable to have a portrait in the Vandyke style, this was a black gown with big puffy white sleeve that created a striking look against the alabaster skin of these fair ladies. In many of the portraits, the women appeared to be wearing the exact same outfit right down to the accessories. And while looking at these Vandyke inspired portraits, it occurred to me that what made these firmly 18th-century gowns, rather than the 17th-century gowns they were mimicking, was the millinery and accessories. The hat and feathers, paired with the jewelry as well as the smaller ruffles and trims on the gown sleeve and neckline. It was the extra's that all kept these ladies decidedly contemporary in their fashion, not the colour or fabric of their dress.


In other black gowns too, I found it was the accessories that stood out and made the gowns less somber. Intricate trims, luscious feathers, and colourful ribbon all helped to create a firmly 18th-century look and one which is very bold compared to the usual confections of the day. Gold, pink, red and peach all seem to be popular choices to contrast against darker fabrics.

So for my own gown, I think I will take inspiration from these ladies and start with a simple gown and then go to town on the trimmings and accessories! It might mean making a new shift, and learning how to make a fabulous hat, but that is alright with me, just more skills to hone and learn. Have I mentioned how much better my hand stitching has gotten since starting historical costuming? 

So the lesson is: there are many routes to an authentic look. Though perfectly accurate fabric is a bonus, less fashionable fabrics can be decked out to create an equally fashionable look. And you can bet your bottom that beautiful black brocade would not have been wasted in the 18th century, so I sure as heck am not going to either.


Resources


  • My Pinterest Board full of 18th C. Images
  • Berg, Maxine. "Women's Consumption and the Industrial Classes of Eighteenth-Century England." Journal of Social History 30, no. 2 (1996): 415-34.
  • Ribeiro, Aileen. "Some Evidence of the Influence of the Dress of the Seventeenth Century on Costume in Eighteenth-Century Female Portraiture." The Burlington Magazine 119, no. 897 (1977): 834-32.


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