Monday 18 June 2018

An 18th century Pierrot jacket

I don't think there are many fashion periods in history where the name of an item of clothing it so hotly debated than the latter half of the 18th century.

What's the difference between a caraco, casaquin, and pierrot jacket? Is it a Gaulle, a robe en chemise, or chemise a la reine? When does a sacque become a l'anglaise or italian gown? So much confusion for a period of 50 years.

I fell down the rabbit hole of the first question. Who knew jackets, which were considered informal wear, would become so hotly discussed a few centuries down the line? Here's my take on the difference. A caraco jacket is the earlier incarnation, and could be from thigh to knee length, and had 3/4 length sleeves, with construction similar to a l'anglaise (the pleated back of the francaise is stitched down). A casaquin, according to the all-knowing source of American Duchess, is a slightly shorter caraco decorated with frillies. And a Pierrot is the shortest of them all, and is more like a bodice with a tail.

I like them all, but for late 1780s it's Pierrot central. I already wrote a blog post about the inspiration and historical background for my Pierrot jacket, so I won't go into detail here.
I always devour blog posts about ensembles and get really annoyed when people don't mention undergarments. I'm wearing a shift (technically regency because it fits better than my linen 18th century one), a nearly-finished pair of 1780s stays, a false rump, a linen petticoat (under), and a silk taffeta petticoat (over). Taffeta is a dream for creating volume. The ensemble wouldn't be complete without my hedgehog half-wig.










The making of...

First onto patterning. I was slightly irritated by this. I had intended that my entire 1780s ensemble would be commercial pattern free. I was faced with a choice when it came to making this jacket. I had the Sense and Sensibility pattern for an Italian gown type dress, which could be not-so-easily (as it turned out) modified into a Pierrot, or I had the American Duchess one to scale up. My experience of scaling drawn patterns up hasn't been great lately, so I caved and used the S&S. Yet, after much faffing, I actually used a strange Frankenstein's monster kind of pattern that was neither wholly S&S, AD, or my own.

The fabric was supposed to be everyone's favourite Ikea duvet cover, which I bought two king size when they were on sale. However, when I was fabric shopping for another item in my 18th century wardrobe I came across a really nice floral, that is possibly not as HA, but I don't care.

Ah patterning, old nemesis. Using commercial patterns I always have to do 50 alterations, and this was no different. I've used S&S patterns before with my regency day wear, and it went together like a dream with no alterations. But that was a gathered waist, so a lot easier than a fitted jacket.

Thanks to my earlier adventures of back pleating my Victorian evening bodice, adding the box pleats on these pieces was a breeze, the waist placement was not. It fitted alright the first time, a bit big, the CB waist was too low, the front length was too short, and the neckline was low and high in all the wrong places.

Some alterations later and I had a bodice that fitted well, but wrinkled at the front. I remembered at this point of the trouble-shooting pages they have at the back of the AD guide, and wrinkling bodices is one of the ones they address. I could have sworn they recommended the front to be cut on the bias, whereas the S&S said on the grain. My stays are very curved in the front, which was why the cut on the grain panel was buckling. The next major problem was the back.

Arm scyes are set further back in the 18th century because the fashion was to have shoulders back, but this was ridiculous, and the back neckline was also so low. This wouldn't be a problem if my chemise wasn't high-necked. I ended up drawing the pattern a lot more similar to the American Duchess pattern than the S&S. I probably should just have scaled it up, but both probably would have taken equal time anyway.
Tails!!!

I also had a problem with boobage. That's right, me, the Queen of no-boobs. The bodice is actually a little tight at the bust because of the curved front that apparently thrusts me out. For the first time in my costuming career, I had to take out the seams at the bust. Unfortunately, I never managed to get rid of the wrinkling at the front, despite cutting the front panel on the bias. Even in hindsight, I still can't figure out why...

After much faffing with patterns I either finally got one that fit fine, or gave up the will to pattern anymore mock-ups.

I cut out the floral cotton, which was thin as hell. I flatline with.....iron on interfacing. That's right, I am completely non-HA now, and it still feels good. There's actually a reason beyond outright rebellion against the HA community. I've had problems with flatlining recently. When I flatline there are always wrinkles, I can never get them smooth, despite actually ironing them together before pinning and sewing. I can't understand it, but I was desperate not to get wrinkles on this jacket, which is ironic since there are major wrinkles on the front panel.

One of my solutions to prevent flatline wrinkling was to just iron on the interfacing, and in all honesty it worked, no wrinkles.

I did a bit of a hybrid method of construction with this because I couldn't remember or couldn't be bothered looking up the HA method. I knew I didn't want to bagline it because that has a habit of the lining peeking out from underneath. Instead, I attached them at the CF where the closure is, and then did a kind of stitch in the ditch to attach the rest of the seams.

Sleeves.....sleevils. To be fair, they weren't that bad, but the pattern for this ensemble was just awful, and it was my fault. Because I had changed the placement of the arm scyes on the bodice, the original sleeve pattern didn't work. It was when I was trying to fit them in that the sewing Gods smiled upon me. I realised, through a strange fit of genius, that the arm cap was too high. Without measuring, and really eyeballing it, I hacked off some of the height. Can you believe it worked perfectly? I've never had so much luck and I think I may be cursed for the rest of the sewing year.

The other slight problem was that the sleeves were a little too big at the forearm. I know, sexy but too tight sleeves is another problem, but since this jacket was so tailored and well-fitting everywhere else the big sleeves just made it look sloppy. Unfortunately, I had used the AD book method of sleeves that hides the seam allowances between the fashion fabric and lining, and the sleeves had already been painstakingly set in by the time I decided I wanted to change it.

Solution? Darts. The other problem with the S&S sleeve pattern was that it wasn't curved. What I did to solve the problem was to put a dart at the seam between the elbow and wrist. It, surprisingly, worked. The pattern on the fabric is really forgiving in that it's so busy that it hides most construction mistakes.

Finally was trim. I had a completely stupid moment for a few days. Because I'm so used to making trim for Victorian garments, where the edges are all finished, I was cutting out strips and putting small hems on them. I mean I even have pinking scissors! It wasn't until I saw something, or watched a video, that I remembered that it was really fashionable in the 18th century to have pinked trim.

I wanted cuffs on my jacket, because who doesn't like cuffs? I box pleated a strip and attached it at the wrist, but I decided that the strips I'd cut out were too thick for the neckline, which I was tempted to leave bare.



I had to reduce the width for the neckline trim, which I debated with myself about whether to add. Because the floral pattern is so busy I felt the neckline trim was getting lost, so I did a test strip, changing the box pleats to small knife pleats, and pinned it in place. It just gave the jacket that something extra, another dimensionality (not a word, whoops), so on it went.

As we do for scientific papers let's look at the strengths and limitations of this study. Strength, it's a nice fabric, if not a bit thin. There's trim, which is rare in my case. It fits well, and because the fabric is so busy it's difficult to see the wrinkles at the front, although not the mysterious ones at the back.

Limitations. I'm pretty sure the sleeves are pulling the straps down, widening the neckline. I've read the cause somewhere but can't for the life of me remember what it is. It might be that my hacking away at the sleeve head was too much. Serves me right for not measuring. It's not that noticeable in my opinion.
Yes, those are my stays you can see poking through, but that's an undergarment issue, one of many with those stays.
The wrinkling......

This project was really fun, and it actually turned out pretty much exactly as I pictured it, which is always a win.