Sewing Scot!: 1880s bustle project

I'm beginning to feel that guilt most people do when they began something with the best of intentions and then just let it fetter out; a bit like a New Year's diet.  I've not been writing any History Sundays, and I can't promise that I will be, and I've not been updating this blog with awkward encounters, which there has been seldom of recently.

However, fear not my handful of darlings, I come to you with a full post about my most recently finished project.  I already posted about my 19th Century corset, and now I have the outer-garments to go with it.

When I tried everything on I realised that the corset isn't the right shape for the 1880s, but I did discuss that a little in my previous post about the matter.  As I'm currently looking for a next project I did contemplate doing an accurate 1880s corset, and although I have a sewing machine now (yes, that's right, a lot has changed since my last post, including my place of residence) it makes my heart ache whenever I remember how long and difficult a process it was to make my first one.  I am aware that a sewing machine would make it quicker, and when I get more comfortable with it I no doubt will tackle the period correct corset.

But, for now, here is all my hard work over the last few months, and subsequently the last few months of my time at Leicester.  Fear not, I didn't drop out of my Masters, although don't think I didn't think about it, I'm currently doing my dissertation at my employers: Keele University.  For those of you who have never heard of it (and I hadn't either until I saw the job advert) I'll make an update post about my life.

In my last post I wrote about making a shift from a t-shirt, and the pains I had in hand sewing my corset.  I was just about to cut out the pieces of my poor, doomed corset cover.  I honestly don't know what went wrong with it, but the fit was awful, and the only time I'll wear it is if I ever make a jacket.

Next should have been the blouse, but no, I was determined to make the skirt.  The pattern.

 I have been obsessed with a bustle skirt practically since the beginning of the year, even going so far as to put aside the 1900s skirt I was supposed to be making.  I was going to make it out of gorgeous silk taffeta....until I saw that it was ~£20 per metre.  This isn't expensive by any standards for 100% silk, but for a first attempt I cringed.  I've never worked with material that expensive before.  So, I did what I usually can't be bothered to, I made a mock-up.

Now, I could have been like many other seamstress (can I call myself that yet?) and ordered really cheap cotton, or muslin, or whatever the crazy kids are using these days, but I thought making a mock-up was just such a waste of fabric for something that was going to be banished to a drawer.  Instead I got a colourful Klona cotton (still don't know the difference between that and normal cotton except from the price).  I saw this really amazing cardinal red on my frequent supplier's website and I knew I had to have it.  Those who couldn't afford silk back in the 19th Century used cotton too.  Unfortunately it wasn't in immediate stock and wouldn't be delivered for a few weeks, and I may have waited if it wasn't for the fact that I was due to move out of my accommodation in the interim.

Instead, Calico Laine were good enough to recommend the burgundy Klona cotton, which is just as nice, and probably not as garish.  The only problem was that I had wanted a burgundy/wine coloured silk taffeta to make the final skirt with, and didn't want two of the same skirt in the same colour only in different fabrics.  It turns out I don't intend to make another one anytime soon so it doesn't matter.

Quite oblivious to the trials that lay ahead I began to cut out the pattern.

Apart from I was nowhere near as cute as this; it involved some very furrowed eyebrows, and quick glances from one corner of the pattern to the other.  Folks, I realised that these patterns weren't for beginners, but after a year and a half of sewing I arrogantly thought that label no longer applied.  Holy crap, does it!  For the life of me I couldn't figure out how to do the draped front of this skirt.  Thankfully, I don't particularly like drape fronts, and whatever I was doing to this one made me look as if I was a kangaroo with a joey pouch.

Being me, and becoming increasingly concerned for the fabric's welfare, I chopped off the sides of the great front panel and only made one small drape, allowing the rest of the front to hang flat.

I do apologise for the quality of these pictures; it's been sunny all week and then in comes the weekend and the dull days and the no light streaming through my large windows.  One of these days I'm going to have to do a solo photo-shoot outside in a really awesome, semi-historical place (although I don't have a significant other to take the pictures for me; can you marry a camera tripod?)

The back was a lot more fun.  Before I began to sew in earnest I found a video on youtube that gave a tutorial on how to create a poofs at the back of a bustle skirt, so when I got this pattern I knew exactly how to create the back.  Unfortunately the pattern's instructions differed from the video tutorials in that it only had one length of fabric tape going down the centre, whereas the one I was familiar with had three.

As a compromise, I did two, one on either side of the centre back.  Unfortunately they are a bit uneven, and I'm not really sure if that's how they're supposed to be.  The hem of this skirt is also uneven at the sides (ironically not at the back) due to an unknown reason, I think there's a lot of excess fabric at the back since I didn't chop that off to match the front panel, but I'm not sure.


As a quick explanation; I used cotton tape (that you can see fraying at the waistband) and attached it at the waist.  I think bias binding will work as well, anything of a similar nature, maybe even twill tape like the one used for waist stays in corsets.  At either regular or irregular intervals you go down and lift up some fabric, above where it naturally hangs, and sew it onto the tape.  And there you have a poof.


Since this is a bustle skirt, I did consider making a cage, but was lazy, and not to mention I think cages make the bustle too big (I know, how can a bustle be too big?  It just can in my mind).  Instead I opted for the modest bustle pillow.  It was cheaper then buying a cage, and I liked the size.  Unfortunately the skirt doesn't hang very well out the back, despite the ruffled petticoat I have on underneath.  Perhaps the effect would have been more dramatic with a cage, but I'm pretty sure the back hem would have been shorter than the front.

As you can see, the bottom is a little.....flat.  I don't know, it's just not how I imagined it falling to the ground, perhaps this is normal?  Anyone who's made this before some advice (and how to pull together the draped front) would be much appreciated.

Let's move onto the blouse.  I was a bit cheap when it came to this.  I should have invested in a pattern, but since I had already bought a romantic Era blouse pattern I thought I'd be clever and adjust it.  I'm not really familiar with the romantic Era, but the pattern looks just the same as the blouses worn at the beginning of the 20th century, loose fitting with loose sleeves, unlike the tight fitting blouses of previous decades.

In hindsight I should have used the pattern for the corset cover which was fitted to the body instead of the one I used which was supposed to be gathered and loose.

These were just to test if the camera angle was right, although I'd love to see
someone in a period picture from the time posing like this.

I always find I have problems with arm holes; never sleeves, or sewing them in, but the size of the arm holes, and this time the shoulder seams.  What you never see in pictures is how badly things are actually made.  The sleeves look quite good in the pictures, but I can't really bend my arms as the forearms are so tight.  The blouse isn't meant to have contrasting cuffs, but because the sleeves were too short I had to add them, and they're awful.  They fasten with the smallest hooks you can find, akin to the ones on bras.  The blouse itself also fastens this way.  It was originally meant to be really nice buttons, but after the disaster I had with the blouse itself, and the buttons on the corset cover, I was reluctant to try again.

Another test picture; I just really like these poses

This blouse went so badly any further effort seemed redundant, I'm sorry to say.  I really liked the material used to make the yoke, and thank God I didn't waste a lot of it on this blouse.  It is a lovely embroidered cotton lawn I got from Fenwicks in Leicester before I left.  The collar was also a disaster, and it's way to big so I haven't put any fasteners on it.  At some point I will make another blouse, a proper one, but I want to move onto using the pattern as it was meant to be used, for a 1900s blouse.

I will probably come back to this time period near the end of the year because there is an annual Victorian/Regency Ball in Bath where all of my senior historical seamstresses have no doubt been going for years.  I'd love to go next year dressed in something I made, and finally meet people into the same hobby as I am.

Now we come to *gasp* underpinnings.

I worked from the laughing moon pattern which was meant to fit over a bustle pillow.  However the pattern never had the ruffles I've seen in other petticoats for this period; so I added them myself, which was actually really fun.  Unfortunately when on it does lift slightly at the back, but I'll know the next time.  I just really like walking around in it because the ruffles are so cool.  I purposely put a small ruffle onto the waistband just to give it that extra lift.  It was made out of 100% white cotton.   The hem ruffle is only at the back because I tried to fit it to the front and thought it looked stupid, probably just my measuring skills.

Because the entire thing is made out of cotton or lawn you can see straight through.  I put tartan bias binding onto the white corset and you can see it through everything.  But, I regret nothing!  Except maybe from buying the full 50m roll of it.  Every clothing project from now on that needs bias bound will have tartan; I'm warning you now.

The layers go as follows.  Shift, corset, blouse, pillow, petticoat, skirt.  No corset cover because the neckline was wrong, and because I'm disenchanted with it.  I'll make another one in the future that's good.

It's been a learning curve/steep straight line, and I have such respect for the women that used to wear all of these layers!  I also feel the need to mention embellishment.  Obviously a plain white blouse speaks for itself, but I'm aware ribbons, trims, ruffles, and all sorts were added to skirts.  I wanted to make a simple one, and so I did.  I have been looking at over-skirts commonly worn with bustle skirts, but since I'm hoping to move on from this time period I won't be making one for a while.

I must admit there was an existential crisis after finishing this project.  What to do next?  I feel as if before I moved a fortnight ago I had an endless list of things and garments to make.  Then when I was looking last night I couldn't decide.  I've been seeing a lot of nice fabrics that can't be used to make historical garments, and on my Pinterest there have been a lot of fantasy garments made by others, and since my sketchbook is full of them as well I've decided I may make one.  I was toying with Regency, but I'm beginning to chafe against fabric restrictions,  I just want to use the faux silk taffeta, and the polyester chiffon, and all things the 21st century is good for!  So I think I will, but I promise, you will see what happens next.

I'm actually sitting in my Great-grandmother's chair, which although
isn't 19th Century, is the oldest thing I now own.