As you've probably noticed 2018 was the year of railing against the historically accurate community. Perhaps railing isn't the word, but I was growing increasingly frustrated with the snobbery I was experiencing at events, and at how unsatisfied I was if something I made wasn't as HA as possible.
HA caused me nothing but misery, and also a considerable sum of money. I was inspired to write this post because I read an open letter by another blogger to "newbies" to the historical costuming scene. The longer I roam in these cyber circles the more I realise that historical costuming is actually a subset of the broader costuming hobby.
For instance, you have cosplayers who make costumes based on characters in literature, manga, tv series, and films. Then you have general costumers who dabble in cosplay, fantasy, and also historical pieces. The historical costuming community is just one group under the general umbrella. There's no doubt loads more (Furry comes to mind) that I don't know about.
I'm only talking about the historical community because that's the one I've been more exposed to, and let's just say I'm far from impressed. I'll admit, I skim read the open letter despite not being a newbie, but I have a short attention span at the best of times. The general message I got from the skim read was research, research some more, and then maybe you'll be accepted....I'm kidding about the last part but the gist was the more you research the more accurate your creations will be. This is true, but how many iterations is that going to take you? How many events are you going to have to get sneered at to finally get to an "acceptable" level of accuracy.
I'll say at this point I'm biased against the HA community solely because I can't stand snobbery. Sorry, but just because you had the time and willpower to sew that 18th century gown doesn't mean you can act high and mighty.
Historical costuming is great, all hobbies that keep people engaged are great, but the fact there seems to be eligibility criteria for practising it is baffling to me. I think these stringent rules will put people off.
I read an article not so long ago, the source escapes me, that pointed out the deficit of young people in the reenactment community, and the suppliers of historically accurate costume. Hmmmmm, I wonder why....
It's all well and good for the handful of HA bloggers to write kind, encouraging open letters, but that's going to be about as helpful as a chocolate fire guard if newbies are showing up to events and being snubbed or sneered at by the veteran reenactors. In some cases, ignored completely.
I find the HA scene to be very much like high school where everyone was in their separate camps and no one dared venture outside of those groups for fear of retribution. I also felt that somehow everyone already knew each other, and if you weren't already established in that group then there was no way of getting in. It's like the entire community is a VIP club and it's full so no one else is getting in.
Granted, I haven't been to an event in some time, but that's because the ones I did start going to when I was a newbie weren't welcoming, so why bother? Perhaps other newbies had a better time than me, perhaps they managed to get past the velvet ropes, but as an introvert with social anxiety I found the clique-ish atmosphere unbearable and frankly quite frustrating since it had taken courage to attend the event anyway.
I suppose what I'm trying to say in my ranting way is that HA isn't everything. Creativity shouldn't have rules, that's why I like it over my science day job. You should be able to use that polyester to make that gown because silk is too expensive, you should be able to use that kind of seam even if it wasn't used at that time, and you should be able to wear a modern corset because it's all you can afford, because a modern corset is better than no corset at all. You should be able to do all of these things without being judged.
In light of the last year and my general experience I've discovered a new sewing mantra that the HA rejects like myself can use. Historically inspired. Inspired by historical gowns and clothes but made using modern techniques and materials. This doesn't have to mean they look cheap, or were any easier to put together, sewing isn't easy no matter what. It just means machine sewn regency gowns, polyester 1860s gowns, and bum pads stuffed with polyfill.
Don't be afraid to create! Despite these kind letters from the occasional blogger, events tend to be ruled by the firm HA crowd. However, I do encourage independent thought, so attend as many events as you wish because my experience won't be yours, and if you do find a nice group then drop a comment so I can join.
Showing posts with label 17thcentury. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 17thcentury. Show all posts
Sunday, 3 March 2019
Wednesday, 23 January 2019
A 1660s gown a.k.a I may have f*****d up
This project was one of those inevitable ones. Something that's always been on the bucket list. Thanks to Versailles, my desire to make a 1660s gown came around every year, however in 2018 I got really into the 3rd series.
Lessons learned from this project:
1.) Don't use two layers of coutil, because you won't be able to sew through them
2.) Maths makes life easier, but is not essential.
For this particular project I found Fresh Frippery's, the Dreamstress's, and Demode Couture's posts about their own 1660s gowns to be the most useful, not that others weren't, it's just they had details I was more in need of, more specifically how to tackle/prevent wrinkly bodices, and what to do about skirts. The other resource I used was this site run by a person whose name I don't know, but I also found their resources on 18th century garments incredibly useful for my 1780s stays.
When I began this gown my monthly expenses were, shall we say, many, and so I didn't really have the cash to splurge on expensive silk, or any good quality fabric for that matter. The other bad thing was that the duchess silk satin I'd had earmarked for this project wasn't enough. I had about 4m of this horribly fabulous green duchess satin that I'd managed to snag as a bargain on ebay. For those costumers who aren't familiar with the 1660s, 4m is possibly enough for a skirt, perhaps a few bodices, but not an entire ensemble.
I also knew the high probability of F@#!ing this up. I wanted to do a "mock-up" dress first, but my mantra with mock-ups is that they have to be semi-functional unless they're a bodice only, which this wasn't. I didn't use a commercial pattern with this project, so had no idea how much fabric it would take (certainly not less than 4m, I knew that). I decided to use poly for what was essentially a practice run. I looked for taffeta, since poly satin was sent by Satan to annoy seamstresses, and found a fabulous teal. I LOVE teal. In every project I've ever done teal has been a contender, but I cannot for the life of me find a teal silk (any type of silk) in the UK. When I saw this poly a small dream of mine came true. And it was only £5 p/m.
This project never wanted to end. I think I may have experienced burn out with it at the end of 2018, hence why it languished in the sewing room for months with very little progress. However, I emerged from the pit and managed to get it finished in the first few weeks of 2019. It turns out that I have the perfect length of hair for this period, it's just a shame I don't have the hair dressing skills to match (Papillotte curls on your own is hard...).
I'm wearing a prototype 17th century chemise (the sleeves are too long but I couldn't be bothered changing them). And that's it. This is what I love about the 1660s, there's no petticoats, no stays or corsets because the bodice itself are the pair of stays, covered in silk with sleeves added. The flatlining of the skirt with really stiff waxed cotton gives it the volume. I think the same might be achieved with organdie and would be a lot lighter. Unfortunately the skirt is so heavy that it bent the hook and bar I'd put on to fasten it, so in these pictures it's actually closed with a pin. The shoes are Kensingtons in black by American Duchess with James silver buckles, and red stockings from La Rose Passementerie. I sort of lucked out with the photos with this, so there are a lot of them.
I had just come out of the late 18th century - or rather, was still in it - when I scaled up the pattern in Waugh's the cut of women's clothes. It was the weeks leading up to my Doctoral progression exam and I was restless, unable to concentrate on anything for long (proven by my half abandoned 1790s stays). I knew that the interlining was a different pattern from the outer layer (silk). I also turned to Hunnisett, who covers this period. The difference between these books is that Waugh's is based from extant garments, whereas Hunnisett is tailored towards theatre costume. Where Waugh's had patterns for both interlining and outer, Hunnisett only had one sans tabs.
I played about with leaving off the tabs. Fresh Frippery had stated in the discussion of her own project that she should have left them off and just sewn the skirt directly to the bodice, something which I presume a theatre costume would have, hence Hunnisett's lack of tabs. 2018 is also my anti-HA year, so this should technically be right up my street. However, in my mind the tabs kind of make the outfit. Yes, tabs are annoying, yes, binding them is difficult, but just attaching the skirt to a bodice with a back opening is kind of....boring. What would I have to whine about?
I scaled up Waugh's pattern, but instead of altering it for the outer "silk" layer I just left them the same. Through my blog travels I noticed that a lot of garments in painting didn't actually have a SF seam, I also found out that you can fake it with trim.
I altered the interlining, mostly the shoulder straps because I have weird sloping shoulders, and then I added boning, the synthetic whalebone kind because I love it. Then it came time for the hand bound eyelets.
I opted for a front opening because I don't have a maid, and also thought I might be able to hide it a bit by the front trim. I was also lucky that I found a painting with a gown with a front opening.
After killing my fingers sewing all of those eyelets the moment of truth came. I noticed from other blogs that fitting can sometimes be a problem. In other words, sometimes there's a lacing gap when there isn't meant to be. I was a little afraid that would happen to me, but I had left a lot of seam allowance and that gave me some comfort.
Turns out I didn't need to worry, because it fit perfectly. I have 2 saving graces as a seamstress; 1.) I can accurately estimate alterations in inches, which makes hemming a breeze, 2.) turns out I'm quite good at fitting. We'll put the last one down to experience.
I got the thinnest gold ribbon known to man to lace it up because it was almost impossible to make the eyelets more than a few mm wide.
With the most laborious bit done all I needed to do was cut out the rest of the pieces and mount them to the interlining.
The fabric is a poly taffeta in the most amazing colour. I'll have to admit, despite its poly content this fabric really was great to work with. To my eyes it didn't look that much like poly, it didn't have that horrible papery feel or plastic shine. I was very happy with it.
A few months ago I was looking for cotton satin for another project when I came across this horribly patterned fabric on ebay for like £2 p/m. I actually bought it to be the fashion fabric on this project but when I actually got it delivered home it was horrible. It was more like waxed cotton, and to be honest the listing had said it had been used for kitchen curtains in a previous life. Thankfully, it was also quite stiff, which made it perfect for flatlining the thin taffeta.
Next came sleeves, or in this case sleevils. This is what happens when you scale up a pattern in a book that has no construction instructions. This is also what happens when you lose the original scaling up measurements. By this point I couldn't remember how much I'd added onto the bodice. I probably should have added something into the sleeves, but they were so wide that I'd had to piece them because my fabric wasn't wide enough. I thought I'd be fine, and to be honest for the most part I was.
Usually sleeves on gowns like this are cartridge pleated to the armhole from roughly the top of the shoulder to the back armpit. I think I only needed another inch or two and this would have worked....but it didn't. Thankfully, the 1660s gown pattern in Patterns of Fashion 1 has gathered rather than pleated sleeves, so I gathered mine instead.
Due to some bad decisions in the making up of the sleeves, and not really having a clue what I was doing, putting these sleeves in was awful. Everything slid very quickly down hill with the sleeves and arm holes.
I ended up having to bind the arm holes with black bias binding (which you can definitely see if I lift my arms) and then kind of whip-cross-flip(?) stitch the sleeves in. Because I hadn't cartridge pleated the sleeves but had used that method of attaching them, it meant there were gaping holes between the pleats. Thankfully, when it was on it wasn't visible, to me at least, so I just left it as is.
It turns out this wouldn't be the only garment of mine where sleeves would be an issue.
After using industrial strength thread to attach the sleeves, it was time to finish the bodice. I used piping to finish the neckline, made from the thinnest self-fabric bias binding in existence.
As an attempt at procrastination from binding the tabs I fiddled with decoration. I had this really bright gold trim stuff that I had intended to put at the CF to hide the lacing holes, hence why I chose gold thread and not green, but when I pinned it on I wasn't that impressed. It was too thick and bulky. I took in search of suitable gold trim, which is surprisingly hard to find in the UK. Finally, I found some that was perfect.
It took me a while to figure out the placement. I was originally going to leave the trim off altogether, but glad I didn't. It really saved what turned out to be an awful project.
The poly taffeta is wispy and thin, so I flatlined it with the same waxed cotton I'd used for the bodice pieces and it was a lot better.
I scoured the blogs listed in the introduction to find what they did regarding width. It seems to be the general consensus that 150" is the accepted width of fabric that needs to be used. The depth of pleats, and the method, is hotly debated. Some say 2", others think shallower. 2" seemed too deep to me when I tried it, so I went with 1" and I decided to cartridge pleat it because I'd always wanted to try the technique but never had an excuse.
My main irritation with this is that I didn't do the maths to see how many pleats I would actually need. I pleated most of the length of the skirt and then checked the fit, adding pleats whenever necessary, which was quite difficult since at this point I didn't have a waistband so trying on was always a bit tricky.
For the waistband I used green twill tape, and to sew on the pleats I used industrial strength black thread. I have to say, cartridge pleats are actually quite fun, and probably the easiest hand-sewing portion on this ensemble.
On the only extant skirt from the 1660s, and in the paintings, the waistband isn't visible. I figured instead of attaching the pleats to the bottom of the waistband you attached them to the top, and the bottom of the pleats to the bottom, effectively hiding the waistband on the inside. Pictures help.
I'm unsure if I used the right kind of stitch to attach the pleats to the twill tape, they seem a bit.....visible, but hey.
It took me a while to finish this project. I think I experienced some kind of burn out at the end of 2018 regarding sewing, or regarding this project since it just dragged and dragged on. I made a few vintage inspired skirts at the end of 2018, but that was the only thing I had the motivation for.
It improved by the time Christmas and New Year was over, and I started to like this project more, for which I thank the trim which really pulled everything together. I don't think this ensemble looks as bad as it should do considering the number of mistakes I made.
I managed to barely finish the chemise that went with this project, but don't have pictures because it's not great and there are other bloggers who did a better job. I think the sleeves are just a smidge too long, but I'll know for next time.
I've certainly learned a lot of important lessons during this project and definitely want to attempt it again, perhaps with silk the next time. There was nothing wrong with the bodice regarding fit (except I'd make the point at the front lower the next time), the sleeves need enlarged, and the arm scye deepened. You shouldn't use 2 layers of thick coutil as interlining. I also know more about the spacing of the cartridge pleats on the skirt. That's really all that went wrong with this project, but we're always harsher on ourselves, aren't we? Without it, we would never improve.
Lessons learned from this project:
1.) Don't use two layers of coutil, because you won't be able to sew through them
2.) Maths makes life easier, but is not essential.
For this particular project I found Fresh Frippery's, the Dreamstress's, and Demode Couture's posts about their own 1660s gowns to be the most useful, not that others weren't, it's just they had details I was more in need of, more specifically how to tackle/prevent wrinkly bodices, and what to do about skirts. The other resource I used was this site run by a person whose name I don't know, but I also found their resources on 18th century garments incredibly useful for my 1780s stays.
When I began this gown my monthly expenses were, shall we say, many, and so I didn't really have the cash to splurge on expensive silk, or any good quality fabric for that matter. The other bad thing was that the duchess silk satin I'd had earmarked for this project wasn't enough. I had about 4m of this horribly fabulous green duchess satin that I'd managed to snag as a bargain on ebay. For those costumers who aren't familiar with the 1660s, 4m is possibly enough for a skirt, perhaps a few bodices, but not an entire ensemble.
I also knew the high probability of F@#!ing this up. I wanted to do a "mock-up" dress first, but my mantra with mock-ups is that they have to be semi-functional unless they're a bodice only, which this wasn't. I didn't use a commercial pattern with this project, so had no idea how much fabric it would take (certainly not less than 4m, I knew that). I decided to use poly for what was essentially a practice run. I looked for taffeta, since poly satin was sent by Satan to annoy seamstresses, and found a fabulous teal. I LOVE teal. In every project I've ever done teal has been a contender, but I cannot for the life of me find a teal silk (any type of silk) in the UK. When I saw this poly a small dream of mine came true. And it was only £5 p/m.
This project never wanted to end. I think I may have experienced burn out with it at the end of 2018, hence why it languished in the sewing room for months with very little progress. However, I emerged from the pit and managed to get it finished in the first few weeks of 2019. It turns out that I have the perfect length of hair for this period, it's just a shame I don't have the hair dressing skills to match (Papillotte curls on your own is hard...).
I'm wearing a prototype 17th century chemise (the sleeves are too long but I couldn't be bothered changing them). And that's it. This is what I love about the 1660s, there's no petticoats, no stays or corsets because the bodice itself are the pair of stays, covered in silk with sleeves added. The flatlining of the skirt with really stiff waxed cotton gives it the volume. I think the same might be achieved with organdie and would be a lot lighter. Unfortunately the skirt is so heavy that it bent the hook and bar I'd put on to fasten it, so in these pictures it's actually closed with a pin. The shoes are Kensingtons in black by American Duchess with James silver buckles, and red stockings from La Rose Passementerie. I sort of lucked out with the photos with this, so there are a lot of them.
The making of
I'll warn you now that this is a long blog post because this was quite a complicated project for me. I detail the bodice construction first and the skirt towards the end in case you want to scroll down to the relevant parts.I had just come out of the late 18th century - or rather, was still in it - when I scaled up the pattern in Waugh's the cut of women's clothes. It was the weeks leading up to my Doctoral progression exam and I was restless, unable to concentrate on anything for long (proven by my half abandoned 1790s stays). I knew that the interlining was a different pattern from the outer layer (silk). I also turned to Hunnisett, who covers this period. The difference between these books is that Waugh's is based from extant garments, whereas Hunnisett is tailored towards theatre costume. Where Waugh's had patterns for both interlining and outer, Hunnisett only had one sans tabs.
I played about with leaving off the tabs. Fresh Frippery had stated in the discussion of her own project that she should have left them off and just sewn the skirt directly to the bodice, something which I presume a theatre costume would have, hence Hunnisett's lack of tabs. 2018 is also my anti-HA year, so this should technically be right up my street. However, in my mind the tabs kind of make the outfit. Yes, tabs are annoying, yes, binding them is difficult, but just attaching the skirt to a bodice with a back opening is kind of....boring. What would I have to whine about?
I scaled up Waugh's pattern, but instead of altering it for the outer "silk" layer I just left them the same. Through my blog travels I noticed that a lot of garments in painting didn't actually have a SF seam, I also found out that you can fake it with trim.
I altered the interlining, mostly the shoulder straps because I have weird sloping shoulders, and then I added boning, the synthetic whalebone kind because I love it. Then it came time for the hand bound eyelets.
I opted for a front opening because I don't have a maid, and also thought I might be able to hide it a bit by the front trim. I was also lucky that I found a painting with a gown with a front opening.
Turns out I didn't need to worry, because it fit perfectly. I have 2 saving graces as a seamstress; 1.) I can accurately estimate alterations in inches, which makes hemming a breeze, 2.) turns out I'm quite good at fitting. We'll put the last one down to experience.
I got the thinnest gold ribbon known to man to lace it up because it was almost impossible to make the eyelets more than a few mm wide.
With the most laborious bit done all I needed to do was cut out the rest of the pieces and mount them to the interlining.
The fabric is a poly taffeta in the most amazing colour. I'll have to admit, despite its poly content this fabric really was great to work with. To my eyes it didn't look that much like poly, it didn't have that horrible papery feel or plastic shine. I was very happy with it.
A few months ago I was looking for cotton satin for another project when I came across this horribly patterned fabric on ebay for like £2 p/m. I actually bought it to be the fashion fabric on this project but when I actually got it delivered home it was horrible. It was more like waxed cotton, and to be honest the listing had said it had been used for kitchen curtains in a previous life. Thankfully, it was also quite stiff, which made it perfect for flatlining the thin taffeta.
Next came sleeves, or in this case sleevils. This is what happens when you scale up a pattern in a book that has no construction instructions. This is also what happens when you lose the original scaling up measurements. By this point I couldn't remember how much I'd added onto the bodice. I probably should have added something into the sleeves, but they were so wide that I'd had to piece them because my fabric wasn't wide enough. I thought I'd be fine, and to be honest for the most part I was.
Usually sleeves on gowns like this are cartridge pleated to the armhole from roughly the top of the shoulder to the back armpit. I think I only needed another inch or two and this would have worked....but it didn't. Thankfully, the 1660s gown pattern in Patterns of Fashion 1 has gathered rather than pleated sleeves, so I gathered mine instead.
Due to some bad decisions in the making up of the sleeves, and not really having a clue what I was doing, putting these sleeves in was awful. Everything slid very quickly down hill with the sleeves and arm holes.
I ended up having to bind the arm holes with black bias binding (which you can definitely see if I lift my arms) and then kind of whip-cross-flip(?) stitch the sleeves in. Because I hadn't cartridge pleated the sleeves but had used that method of attaching them, it meant there were gaping holes between the pleats. Thankfully, when it was on it wasn't visible, to me at least, so I just left it as is.
It turns out this wouldn't be the only garment of mine where sleeves would be an issue.
After using industrial strength thread to attach the sleeves, it was time to finish the bodice. I used piping to finish the neckline, made from the thinnest self-fabric bias binding in existence.
 |
| Sleeves complete! |
It took me a while to figure out the placement. I was originally going to leave the trim off altogether, but glad I didn't. It really saved what turned out to be an awful project.
Skirt
So. much. fabric.The poly taffeta is wispy and thin, so I flatlined it with the same waxed cotton I'd used for the bodice pieces and it was a lot better.
I scoured the blogs listed in the introduction to find what they did regarding width. It seems to be the general consensus that 150" is the accepted width of fabric that needs to be used. The depth of pleats, and the method, is hotly debated. Some say 2", others think shallower. 2" seemed too deep to me when I tried it, so I went with 1" and I decided to cartridge pleat it because I'd always wanted to try the technique but never had an excuse.
My main irritation with this is that I didn't do the maths to see how many pleats I would actually need. I pleated most of the length of the skirt and then checked the fit, adding pleats whenever necessary, which was quite difficult since at this point I didn't have a waistband so trying on was always a bit tricky.
For the waistband I used green twill tape, and to sew on the pleats I used industrial strength black thread. I have to say, cartridge pleats are actually quite fun, and probably the easiest hand-sewing portion on this ensemble.
On the only extant skirt from the 1660s, and in the paintings, the waistband isn't visible. I figured instead of attaching the pleats to the bottom of the waistband you attached them to the top, and the bottom of the pleats to the bottom, effectively hiding the waistband on the inside. Pictures help.
I'm unsure if I used the right kind of stitch to attach the pleats to the twill tape, they seem a bit.....visible, but hey.
It took me a while to finish this project. I think I experienced some kind of burn out at the end of 2018 regarding sewing, or regarding this project since it just dragged and dragged on. I made a few vintage inspired skirts at the end of 2018, but that was the only thing I had the motivation for.
It improved by the time Christmas and New Year was over, and I started to like this project more, for which I thank the trim which really pulled everything together. I don't think this ensemble looks as bad as it should do considering the number of mistakes I made.
I managed to barely finish the chemise that went with this project, but don't have pictures because it's not great and there are other bloggers who did a better job. I think the sleeves are just a smidge too long, but I'll know for next time.
I've certainly learned a lot of important lessons during this project and definitely want to attempt it again, perhaps with silk the next time. There was nothing wrong with the bodice regarding fit (except I'd make the point at the front lower the next time), the sleeves need enlarged, and the arm scye deepened. You shouldn't use 2 layers of thick coutil as interlining. I also know more about the spacing of the cartridge pleats on the skirt. That's really all that went wrong with this project, but we're always harsher on ourselves, aren't we? Without it, we would never improve.
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