Finishing touches a.k.a this is missing something

I made my first foray into the iconic 18th century sack-back style back in 2019 with my pet en l'air. It quickly became my favourite project for numerous reasons, but even back when I finished it I felt like there was something missing.

It took me 2 years to realise, but it's floofy sleeve-y things. I'm almost ashamed at how long that took me. Cue to this year and I was digging around in my costume wardrobe, determined to do some long-time alterations on previous projects (my floral chemise a la reine foremost among them), and I decided it was time to make my favourite project even better. 

If that stomacher looks unfinished that's because it is a scrap of fabric, ideally stomacher shaped that I need to also finish.

Alterations...

I had remnants of this fabric which I'd intended to use to make another Pierrot jacket. Once I'd finally cut out the pieces for that second jacket, I assessed how much fabric I had. Fortunately, it was scraps that were barely enough for floofy sleeve-y things. I had to shrink them from the recommended size, and could only do 1 instead of the traditional 2, but I liked them anyway. I even made lace engageantes (lacey-floofy-sleeve-y things) with scraps of organza I had left. I wouldn't recommend organza, I felt it was a bit stiff for these, possibly better in lightweight linen or chiffon.

1790s remake

 Have you ever made a project, finished it, and then realised something was...off? I had this almost instantly with my first chemise a la reine. It was made from a lovely floral fabric, and I thought I'd be so cool and make a traditionally white (or block colour) chemise a la reine out of it. What a mistake. It just didn't look right. By fortune, or laziness, I never managed to put a gathering channel at the waist, only the neckline and underbust. When I was taking it on and off way back in 2018 I realised that it would actually look better as a 1790s gown rather than a chemise a la reine.

Cue 3 years later and I have some time on my hands. Let's see what it's like to alter something from a previous decade, just like women in the 18th century would have when the empire-waisted fashions came in during the 1790s.

Alteration....

Honestly, this project was so easy. I thought I'd have to faff, fangle, and use the remnants I'd kept over from this project. I did none of these things.

I started by removing the skirt from the bodice. I then fit the bodice on me to see where I needed to shorten the back. Rather than a traditional chemise a la reine, I prefer mine with fitted back panels, similar to an Italian gown. I shortened the back, shortened the front lining (and added extra boning for a scandalous purpose), re-attached the skirt (after adding a small panel to the bottom to make up for the shortened length), and that was it.

The scandalous purpose is that I don't wear stays with this new dress. My 1790s stays have always bugged me slightly. Rather than curved at the front, they're very straight and end up flattening me out more like stays from earlier decades. Instead, I preferred the gentle curved look of my natural bust. I added a few bones to the lining for some bust support, and that was it. Scandalous.

A 1776 pair of stays

This is an abandoned project because I f**cked up. In my pursuit of historical accuracy I did all the eyelets by hand, front and back since I wanted a front closure. Somehow I miscalculated the placement of the eyelets and this offset the front, so I left it unfinished. It fits nicely, but I'm not a big fan of the fabric or colour. It just looks an amateur mess. But these were my first set of stays, so I'm leaving them here for posterity.

The making of...

I have two corset books, and I bet you can guess what they are. The first is, of course, Corsets and Crinolines by Nora Waugh, and the other is Corsets by Jill Salen. I looked through them both at the era I wanted, and due to the character in the story's circumstances I could also go for late 1770s.

I came across this pattern in Waugh. A pair of stays circa 1776, and I'll admit I became confused about the timeline of fashions. I thought those lovely Pierrot jackets and zone-front gowns were 1770s instead of 1780s, that paired with the fact that the 1776 pair of stays only have 2 pieces sold me on this. It was only after I'd finalised the pattern I started to realise it was a little earlier, but I'm actually really glad I started with this pattern as they are my first pair of stays.

The only snag with these patterns is that they don't come with instructions. Luckily some clever costumers have already been here and have been kind enough to share their process in the form of a tutorial. I found this series of articles, and these by Tea in a teacup incredible helpful, so a big thank you to them!

I, unfortunately, didn't read all of the instructions in depth, and so there are some things that are probably not quite right with my stays, but hey, we live and learn. Even worse was that I found out what I'd done wrong after hand sewing 60+ eyelets. Oh well, it was therapeutic.

I started by having issues with the scale. The little grid thing at the bottom measures about 1.25 inches, which means for every 1.25 inches on paper it's 5 inches in real life (if I remember my schooling correctly). This is when my mind just went blank. I don't understand why I have a career in statistics when I'm utterly sh*t with numbers and arithmetic. I don't like 1.25, I don't like inches solely because they work in fractions. I tried cm. Not sure if you can see where I'm going with this.

Every 3cm on paper is 5 inches in reality. Bingo, a nice whole number. But when you do all of the maths and conversions you end up with final measurements in inches not cm, a small fact I forgot. Without going into painful detail scaling this up took me ages. I know, you can do it by scanning the image and then blowing it up using Powerpoint or other software, but I don't own a printer, and I wasn't taking this into work, so I drew this pattern by hand. Thanks Secondary school level trigonometry! I'm competent at drawing curves by hand.

Eventually, after a lot of muddling and getting the calculator whipped out, I managed to scale this up to its original size. I measured the waist and bust, and then began to enlarge. The first problem is that I failed to take into account the ratio of the two pieces. You can clearly see that the front is wider than the back. I assumed it was an exact side seam, because in the completed pictures it looks like that to me. I'm not sure if the back is narrower because that was the design of 18th century stays, or if the owner had a lacing gap (another problem of later). Needless to say I designed my stays to have a side seam right at the side. So my back piece is quite wide.

I made a mock-up of this, confident it wouldn't need much alteration since I'd scaled it up to my measurements. I kept the CF seam, so slipped it on over my head and tried to lace it from the back (bad idea). I managed barely to lace it closed at the back, but not properly as the laces were all over the place, and it was big. No surprise where it was the biggest (chest). It actually fitted perfectly at the waist. I don't know what happened with the bust, but this is always a problem for me.

After the massive problems with trying to lace myself into spiral-laced back-closing stays, I decided to make it both CF and CB closing, with the CB only really being for show or alteration to fit. My logic has perhaps been taken from my Victorian corsetry experience, and I learned in this project that they are not the same thing. In victorian corsetry you usually have a 2" or bigger lacing gap, and of course you have a busk closure (after the 1840s). With the stays I'd seen made they also had a lacing gap of about the same. I thought that all lacing gaps, including front ones, should have this gap, and so I factored in a front lacing gap of about 1". I didn't realise that it probably should lace entirely closed at the front until it was too late to change it. Oh well, lesson learned for the next pair.

My second mock-up was perfect, to my specifications anyway, so I set to cutting out my fabric. I knew from research that stays are usually 3 or 4 layers; 1x interlining (2nd is optional), 1x lining, 1x outer fabric. I intended on using linen for this entire project, until I couldn't find appropriate, or appropriately priced, linen canvas. I opted for cotton canvas instead. I chose linen for the outer layer, and linen isn't the strongest of fabric, it's quite loosely woven, so I didn't want my boning working its way through, so I went for 2x interlining layers, then linen on top, but the boning channels would be stitched through all 3 layers because I like the look of the bones.

The cotton canvas I bought was this lovely jade green, purple linen for the outer layer, and white linen for the lining. Then came my second mistake. I didn't read the tutorials properly. Rather than assembling each layer separately, I kind of flatlined the linen with the cotton canvas interlining, taking them all as one piece (excluding the lining because I knew that had to go on separately). Instead of assembling them individually, turning the seam allowances opposite ways, and then basting together, I just have very thick side seams. It might not make that much of a difference shape wise, but I know for next time.

Then began tracing the boning pattern (which had taken me ages to transfer/size-up). It took ages, especially the wee ones on the tabs. I also thought using red thread on purple was a good design choice, but if you've read this blog for a while you'll know I'm terrible with colours.

After they were finished I set to putting the boning in the boning channels. There seems to be this online debate about what type of boning to use for stays. Spiral steel (which I've used extensively for Victorian corsets) isn't suitable. Some people advocated Reed because its HA, but then I read somewhere that if it snaps it's a bit of a nightmare. Recently I had stumbled onto the false/plastic whalebone made by a company in Germany that's meant to mimic the effects of whalebone/baleen which would have been used in stays and Victorian corsetry.

I decided to invest, and I'm sad I didn't do it before. This stuff is amazing to work with! It's easy to draw on (so you know where to cut), it cuts so easily (with a specialised cutting tool available online for reasonable price), and it's so lightweight. I have always found the spiral steel, when you use a lot of it on corsets like I have to do, makes the garment heavy. Not this stuff. I love it, and have vowed to forever use it on any stays or corsets I make in the future. Oh, and it's cheaper than spiral steel. No more finicking around with metal end caps, all you need to remove the edges is a nail file.....that's right, a normal nail file you probably have lying around. For extra fabric protection I wrapped the ends in plumber's tape, but there were a few that went in bare (because some boning channels were a little stingy in size). We'll see if it makes a difference, but I highly recommend this stuff for all of your supporting needs.

After I boned it, it got left. I had to make an apron for my Gran's Christmas, and over Christmas I had Victorian undergarments to make, and then in 2018 it was full-on Ball stuff, so this project was left. I only had the binding to do, but you can probably tell why I stopped here. I wasn't looking forward to binding those tabs, and I still hadn't decided what to use. I had ribbon I was intending to use. From what I learned in my research it was better to have thinner binding, and all commercially made bias binding is quite thick. I could make bias binding out of the remaining purple linen, but then I wouldn't have a nice contrast. I was a bit doubtful about the poly ribbon because it seemed a little thin to be useful binding. The final one was chamoise leather, which sounds fancy but I have two pieces in my car that my dad gave me, because chamoise leather is also known as "wash leathers", and is the material on de-mister pads. Bad thing was I could only find it in the UK in yellow.

A set of 1780s stays

I was never really happy with my 1776 stays. They weren't the right decade, and I just didn't like the overall shape of them. Not to mention they've now become my very first UFO. Quite quickly I wanted to make a later pair, the ones over the page in Waugh's book, the 1780 pair.

Stays are quite strange to me because they're one of very few garments you can wear whilst it's not technically finished. What I mean by this is you can wear them without the seams finished, without a lining, and if you're brave enough, even without binding. I think that was why these stays aren't finished. I also don't like the shape, or lack of, they give me. I think the linen canvas just makes them too stiff and the tabs don't end up shooting out like they're supposed to. I gave up halfway through the binding, but they go under my floral chemise a la reine, and my Pierrot jacket. I'm currently planning to re-make these.

I think they have to be one of the fugliest pair of stays I've seen. What I am proud of is the binding. This is my second attempt, the first being short regency stays with tabs, but my first working with chamois leather. My favourite part is the underarms, they're just so pretty, shame they'll literally never be seen.

The Making of...

Since I've become a little faster at sewing now, it ended up being scaled up and drafted at the same time as the garments for the Victorian Ball. May as well do them all together. I had also booked 2 Georgian events a month after the ball, and knew it was better to get a head start on the garments before then. It was quite fortunate I stumbled upon American Duchess's live video just before I scaled up these stays. I didn't catch it live, but it appeared on my trusted Pinterest feed and I watched all 55 minutes of it, because it was all about stays. Can't tell you how much help it was when drafting the pattern for these stays.

I will confess here that I nearly caved and bought stays. This may not be so surprising as every costumer outsources certain garments, and I've done it once back when I first started in this hobby and gave up on the corset for my 1860s ball gown, but haven't done it since. A part of me feels like it's giving in, and not to mention money is always on my mind, and I really can't seem to justify in my head buying a pair or having them made for me, when I have the growing skills to do it myself. I was so close to buying the front opening 1780s stays from Redthreaded, but wasn't ready to give in with my stay journey at the first junction, so didn't.

Using my corset lacing mock-up panels for spiral lacing, not a good idea, but serves its purpose

So perfect if they weren't short-waisted.

Still proud about that curved front.

In between making my ball gown, I drafted these stays. I think I suffer from beginner's luck when it comes to sewing. I swear my 1860s ball gown is the best thing I've made to date, and it was also the first. My first pair of stays that I scaled up were quite good, a few mock ups later and I had stays that fit well. With these 1780s stays I was on 3 mock-ups and still didn't have a finalised pattern.

I also made a mistake in that I miscalculated my bust to waist measurement, so my first mock-up was empire waisted....well, not quite as bad, but certainly not at my natural waist. I was, however, proud of the curved/bow front that a slightly curved side front seam created. The second mock-up was better, still not quite sure about where tabs are meant to "break". I thought at the waist, but wasn't sure if the tabs were actually breaking at the waist. All very confusing, and difficult when you don't actually have a mirror.....I know!

the tabs definitely break at the waist now, wrinkles may indicate it's too long waisted now

still curved front = win!

At the second mock-up everything fit ok, but I wasn't liking the lacing gap. In all honesty I hadn't actually factored in a lacing gap when scaling up, so they are quite snug. The gap was roughly 3.5 inches wide, and although I could get away with it seeing as these were front lacing only, I was concerned the lacing would be seen underneath gowns. The smaller the lacing gap at the front, the better.

Mock-up 3 included enlarging the pieces by about 1/2". It laced all the way closed (which wasn't supposed to happen either), and fitted relatively well, but they just didn't look right. The back panel looked too wide for stays, and the scooped front was also really weird. It was here that i learned an important lesson. Don't throw out paper patterns for draft versions. in order to enlarge mock-up 2, I had to cut them in half and separate them by 1/2", then after the new pattern was on paper i scrunched them up and threw them in the bin. Thankfully, I still had the calico mock-up of V.2, and got the seam ripper out. My solution, instead of enlarging the whole thing, was to simply add 1" onto the CF seam. the front panel is very low and scooped, but because i changed it to CF opening, the actual CF is a straight edge. I don't know why I didn't do that in the first place, but I've never actually learned how to enlarge things properly, i always thought you had to add onto all pieces, but maybe that's only with certain garments? Still unsure, but learning slowly.

I decided at this point that 3 mock-ups for these stays was enough, so using version 2.1, I cut out the outer layer. My 1760s stays were made from purple linen, and I stitched the boning channels in red, and the eyelets in royal blue. Neither goes, in case you're wondering. Since I still had the purple linen left, and with nothing else planned for it, I decided to use it.

On my travels around my usual suppliers, I found the elusive linen canvas that people use for stays. I actually found 2. Linen canvas, when i looked the first time around, is expensive ££, because it's mostly used by artists now, and I assumed cotton canvas was the same thing. It is, and it isn't.

Looking through the fabric that my usual suppliers sells, I saw a fabric they called artists canvas (which I assumed to be linen canvas), but then a page later also found actual linen canvas. what is the difference? The "Artists's canvas" was 100% cotton, whereas the linen canvas was obviously 100% linen. Another difference was the price. The linen canvas is roughly the same price p/m as plain cotton coutil used for making corsetry, whereas the artists's canvas was only about £5 p/m. Curious, I bought a metre of both.

Instantly upon them arriving, I understood why our ancestors used linen canvas. This stuff is stiff, and very lightweight. However, the artist's canvas was also quite stuff, although a little less so, and was definitely a lot stiffer than the cotton canvas I'd used the first time around. I'm still not sure what the difference is between artist's cotton canvas, and other cotton canvas....

The linen canvas is a lot like coutil, but even coutil isn't as stiff, and is a lot smoother to the touch than this stuff was. Unfortunately, 1m wasn't enough for 2 layers of interlining, and so my stays have 1 layer of linen canvas, 1 of artist's canvas, and 1 of outer  medium weight linen.

Before the stays were sewn together, I hand sewed the eyelets. This was quite weird for me to do because at the time I was having an existential crisis as to what kind of sewer I was. A costumer, a HA sewer? I'm neither, but I had used the HA linen canvas, so may as well try and be as accurate as I wanted, and sewing eyelets is quite therapeutic.

Then I sewed everything together and quickly tried them on. I was quite concerned that the tabs didn't "break" at the waist, as I was having some wrinkling problems at the back, but I didn't take pictures, or even a look at this stage as this was checking fit rather than anything else. They fit well at this stage, with a modest lacing gap. The problems were to come later.

I stitched down the seam allowances, which was.so.hard! The next time I do stays I'm doing to put the linen canvas layer in the middle, with these I put it on the bottom, and getting a needle through it is an absolute bitch. I actually had to use a thimble!! Needless to say, they're sewn down now, another HA thing.

Then I tried them on, and found a minor irritation. The front is a bit big. I don't know how else to explain it. The bowed front looked perfect to me when I compared it visually to others, but when it was on, there was definite gaping. I'm unsure if this is because the shoulder straps were only pinned loosely into place, therefore not lifting the stays at the shoulder, or whether because stays are meant to encourage your shoulders back, I was just slouching, therefore creating some gaping. The front curvature was also extreme, so extreme I worried something had gone wrong. These stays made by other people online don't have as exaggerated curvature at the front. They also weren't fully boned when I tried them on at this stage because I ran out of synthetic whalebone.

There was also some wrinkling at the front where it curves, so it needed a few more bones in to prevent that.

Then I let the project fester. I made a false rump instead, or I started drafting the pattern for the Pierrot, not sure, but it was exactly what I needed. After a few days I went back to them.

1.) Tabs break at the waist, and these did not, so I cut the seam so they "broke" at the waist. Sorted.

2.) The front wasn't low enough. After trolling through pictures of other stays, I realised mine were too high necked. I removed the top bone, and sliced the curved front.

After attaching the straps properly, and finishing the boning, everything was sorted. I had a relatively well fitting pair of 1780s stays.

A slight niggle is the shoulder straps. I think they're too wide, even for this era. Something to work on for the next pair, which if I have time there will probably be.

And then they were left again, because my natural form era ensemble had been sitting for too long, and i knew if I didn't set aside a weekend to make progress, it would forever remain unfinished. The only thing left to do on these stays was the dreaded binding.

A 1776 pair of stays....take 2

If you have a strong stomach here is take 1. I made these early in 2018 to go with my Pierrot jacket before realising it was slightly too early for the 1780s. The heartbreaking thing is I had hand sewn the eyelets on it because they were my first pair, only to find when I laced it up that something had gone wrong with the placement and the eyelets didn't match up if I spiral laced.

However, the silhouette they gave me was the perfect 18th century one, unlike my 1780s ones which gave me no shape at all. The only problem is the strap placement. They're too far apart, so keep slipping off my shoulders, but I'd rather them there than peeking out from the gown.

The Making of...

I realised it was because there was more flexibility in the 1776 ones because I'd used 2 layers of cotton canvas rather than the stiffer linen canvas I had used for the 1780s ones. That's my theory anyway. The softer fabrics allowed it to mould to my body better.

To test this theory I used the same pattern, because I knew it fitted perfectly, and re-did them in a fabric I picked out last year specifically for a pair of stays. Unlike the last 2 times where I used linen, this time I used a printed cotton. And unlike my first pair which were both front and back laced, I only put eyelets on the back of this pair, hoping rather than knowing I could lace myself into them.

I love Waugh's 1776 pattern because it's so simple. It has 2 pieces, front and back. Unlike other pairs of extant stays which have about 4 panels for each side.

I also used....metal grommets. I can hear the HA community gasp from here but since my last disaster with hand-sewn eyelets I wasn't about to invest all that time just for the lacing to be off. So metal grommets it was.

I love the cotton because it looks so much like brocade. So much so that someone commented on my Instagram that it was similar to a silk brocade they'd used for their stays. Although I can guarantee mine was much cheaper.

The only snag I hit was trying them on after I'd sewn all the boning channels. Because they were back-laced it would be quite fiddly to get them on, and then I went and got a tattoo on my back, which was quite sensitive during the time when I was supposed to try them on and didn't feel like pulling my arms back and breaking the skin over it. I was slightly concerned I hadn't altered the front panel right since I'd taken out the inch I'd left for the CF opening. But I wasn't that bothered since I'd bought nothing new for this project, everything was taken from the stash. And believe it or not I already had another stay pattern from POF 5 lined up to do.

I was also doing my 1890s corset at the same time, switching between the two, and also some prototype pocket hoops, so they were moved around the sewing room quite a bit. I'd cut out a bit of boning here and then leave it for a few weeks, this was the project that became my procrastination project when I was sick of doing the main project.

Eventually I got them boned and then cut out the tabs (or skirts as they're called in POF 5) and tried it on.

The problem I found with this was because the pattern was for front-lacing stays the shape ended up being a bit too low at the CF. I also didn't cut the tabs symmetrically, and the pattern (which I so carefully kept intact for the CF) isn't actually on the CF, but looks pretty damn close.

Pet-en-l'air a.k.a let's talk about the fart in the room

 I've become quite fascinated by this garment for no explicable reason. I love all jackets in the 18th century, whether it's a caraco or Pierrot, but the pet-en-l'air has never called to me in the same way. Much like the robe a la francaise never did until recently

Unlike the francaise the pet en l'air tends to be less commonly made amongst the costuming community. Fortunately there are a few costumers who have and have documented their process. Thank you to them, I will use your experience wisely. However, let's briefly go into extant pet en l'airs and the history behind them.

Firstly, the name. I used to think it was pet en l'air, but I've recently seen is spelled as pet en l'ier. I'm currently unsure as to which one is correct, but I think everyone can agree that the translation into English is roughly "fart in the air". I just don't even....

This garment came into fashion in the mid 18th century and is pretty much just a francaise made by a seamstress who ran out of fabric, and haven't we all been there. I'm only joking, of course, but it is just a shortened version of a robe a la francaise, so if you don't have the 10m+ requirement for a full on francaise, then this is the next best thing.

According to the French Wikipedia, it was given it's name due to the fact that it stops just below the buttocks. The length part is certainly right, pet en l'air's are usually below hip level, but I have seen a tad shorter. Whether this was the reason it was given it's name is beyond me.

Most extant garments I've seen usually come with a matching petticoat, made from the same fabric.

That doesn't necessarily mean they were only worn with the matching petticoat. In the 18th century and beyond it was all about versatility. By this I mean clothes were expensive to buy/make, hence garments had to last quite a long time, and survive the multiple possible alterations of future fashions. Jackets could go with any petticoat, and vice versa. I'm also not a great fan of the look. I like contrast better than matching, so obviously my pet en l'air will not have a "matching" petticoat in the same fabric (because it was expensive and I haven't won the lottery yet despite never having bought a ticket).

Just like the francaise, the pet en l'air could be "closed" 2 different ways; with pins and a stomacher, or compere front with buttons down the front. I've also seen them pinned closed at the centre front, like an italian gown, and tied with ribbons.

Stomacher closure

Looks like hooks and eyes on the CF of this one, correct me if I'm wrong

Compere front

Wild card: Tie front

That brings me onto context. Jackets in previous centuries, like the ones in the 16th and 17th century, were informal wear, casual wear, the day-time pajamas of the era. They'd only be worn in the house, or would be covered if going anywhere. By the middle to late 18th century they're still casual wear, but you can wear them on their own and out of the house. They make their way into fashion plates of the era. They're an accepted part of women's outerwear.

Obviously, they're still informal as you wouldn't wear them to a ball, party, or court, but at least you don't have to cover them up.

Pet en l'airs also have sisters. The tempting Brunswick, which is a pet en l'air with a hood, and the Jesuit. The Brunswick is the travelling version of the pet en l'air with a hood, long sleeves, high neck, and usually buttoned up the front. It didn't need to have the sack-back, and could be fitted instead. It could also have a 2-piece sleeve, with the botton being separate. A Jesuit, according to sources, is a longer version, usually full-length. Because both were travelling outfits, they were commonly not worn over skirt supports.

Arguably, the most famous Brunswick

For my project I'm tackling the normal pet en l'air, with skirt supports and contrasting petticoat. That's it as far as these jackets are concerned. Looks like a relatively straightforward project, but will most definitely not be.