Guinevere's dress from BBC's Merlin a.k.a medieval fantasy dream come true-ish a.k.a the 100th post!

I've finally made it to my 100th post, and what a fitting project. Gwen's dress was definitely my "project of the year". Not because it's the best one, because it's certainly not, but because it took so many resources and so much time. This is definitely the most ambitious project I've undertaken, and I chose to make an 1860s full ensemble for my first ever proper sewing project.

This is my first fantasy project in about 2 years. I used to have a lot of ideas for fantasy gowns (and still have 1 that I'm tempted to make), but then I found historical costuming and it took over. The first thing I ever made was arguably historic but made with modern fabrics, despite the fact I've labelled it as fantasy. So I suppose the only fantasy gown I've ever made that is not based on a historic pattern is the Baldoch dress, which I used as a starting exercise for drafting my own patterns from scratch. It's about time for a new one then.

I don't know about the rest of the historic costuming community but sometimes I feel quite restricted by fabric choices and historic garments. It's either expensive silk, expensive linen, or hard to find suitable cotton. I have started going down using polyester instead of silk, with varying results. It's not just the up-turned noses of some members of the HA crowd that forces a lot of us to use natural fibres, but also that natural fibres to breathe a lot better than man-made, which is better for all of those events in the summer. Regardless of reason it's still a bit restricting.

Which is why fantasy gowns are so good. There are no limits on fabric, trim, or anything like that, because let's face it, it's unlikely you'll be wearing a fantasy gown to that Georgian house visit. You're not going to be wearing these gowns for long enough to start regretting it (in theory).

To be fair I kind of negated all of the above because I didn't design this dress, someone else did. This is my first real attempt at trying to faithfully-ish recreate something. I've written a post about my breakdown of Gwen's red gown from Merlin, but don't expect anything professional...

This project had so much potential, but was really difficult to complete. Most are design flaws, but others are just velvet being velvet and making everyone's like harder. I bought the materials to make a belt as I couldn't find one that matched what I had in my head. Terrible idea. During the shoot the belt just disintegrated because the jump rings used to connect all the metal discs wouldn't close properly. Stupidly, I didn't take my toolkit with me, thinking that I'd been careful during many repairs beforehand. That's why you see different versions of the belt in the photos....

I invested in a pair of extensions knowing I'd use them again, but I didn't do that great of a job blending them with my own hair. Given, my hair is purple right now, and I intentionally bought brown extensions because I more often keep my hair natural as dye it. I should've curled my hair, but it would only have negated some of the issue....I actually tried to use a small feather barette to keep the loose hairs hidden, but as you'll see this didn't really work that well.

The place I chose as Camelot was a lovely ruin called Haughmond Abbey in Shropshire. It's close-ish to where I live and just seemed perfect for that medieval feel I wanted. I had the week off from work, and typically the British weather decided it was going to rain for the majority of the time. This was really the only time I had to take photos of this gown so I had to just make the best of it. Thankfully it wasn't raining for the few hours I was there, but the grass was soaking. My shoes, laced up pumps, got completely drenched, and I practically had to ring out the hem of the gown at the end. The inevitable dirt was also there. I'm hoping the velvet will be forgiving and all it'll need is a good brush down when it's dry. I was at Haughmond for.so.long...almost 2 hours, and I still don't feel like I quite got the shots I wanted. But more people began to arrive, and my belt decided it was going to completely disintegrate at around the 2 hour mark so I just decided to leave it there. I got comparison shots with Angel Coulby's poses so that'll just have to satiate the perfectionist in me.

And let's compare...

And, of course, it wouldn't be my costuming blog if I didn't add in this one...

My shoe lacing had come undone for the 3rd time...

The making of....

I could've chosen red velvet, but I kind of didn't want to try my best to make an exact replica because mine would never measure up. Might as well change it. Red is lovely, but midnight blue is also nice, and to be honest goes with my fair complexion and blue eyes better. I think I ordered about 10m of velvet (I know, a friggin ton). It still wasn't enough, so all in all I think I used, or at least bought, 12 metres of fabric for this project.

I'm not great at mock-ups, as regular readers will know. Instead of drafting a pattern, I altered one I already had. Angel (the actress playing Gwen) is definitely wearing some kind of corset underneath (or a corset built into the dress itself) and I planned to do the same. So I used my natural form era bodice pattern and altered the front. The red dress has princess seams whereas my pattern has darts at the front (which is HA, obvs), so I changed that. I already knew it fit so the mocking up would be minimal.

I didn't take any pictures of the first mock-up. It was good enough, but I hadn't patterned the skirt so wasn't sure how wide the panels needed to be. The velvet, although not really expensive, had made a bit of a dent on my bank balance because I'd ordered so much of it. I couldn't just make a full pattern and cut straight into the velvet for its first use. The skirt needed tested.

Gwen's dress has 2 gores at the front and I think at the back, but I'm not a big fan of gores. As a compromise I only added them to the side front seams and made the rest of the panels skirted (is that the term?). They were friggin huge. I also wanted a train at the back, so the amount of fabric needed for this project was sky rocketing.

For those of you who have worked with velvet before (any kind really), you'll probably be filled with dread, as I was. I've only worked with velvet for a bodice or two, and it was quite bad the last time. Now I was doing entire dress panels worth. Velvet is an absolute swine to work with. The problems start from as soon as you cut into the damn stuff. I even bought an even-feed foot for the machine that's how many problems I was anticipating, and it was money very well spent. Anyway, micro velvet (polyester) is lovely and shiny, and drapes really nicely. The thing is that I didn't really want it to drape, I wanted some structure. To also mitigate the slipperiness of the velvet I decided I was going to flatline it with cotton. I also thought it would be a good idea to make the cotton a mock-up, so all I would need to do is pick apart the mock-up and use it as the final pattern piece.

It went together no problem. I did have to piece for the first time. As I mentioned, the skirt panels are larger than most fabric. I did cut a few of them down, but I really liked the large skirt! I made the mistake of not using the even-feed foot when I was piecing together the panels and it slid all over the place. Not too bad since we were just talking about the corners of the very full skirt panels.

I also did something a bit stupid with the CB panels. Because they look very similar to the CF, I acidentally cut 6" from the length, then afterwards realised it was the CB and was supposed to be really long. Fortunately, this didn't happen with the velvet so the problem was minor.

As you can see from the mock-up there are 2 things that need altering. I didn't know how far up to insert the gores. so one side is just at the waist (although ended up being slightly above), and the next is just at the hip (where I think the ones in the original start). I'm not the gorgeous Angel Coulby, I don't have a figure like hers, even with the corset underneath, and so I wasn't sure if the placement of the gores would be as flattering on me as it was on her. I did find the one inserted near the waist made the entire dress loose it's shape a wee bit, considering the panels themselves were shaped. I surprisingly preferred the hip gores.

The second issue is obviously the back closure. I hadn't put in eyelets to this mock-up because this was only the interlining. What the picture is showing is that the gown may actually be too big for me at the hips and waist. I think it just met in the middle at the bust area. I barely managed to pin the back together for a fitting. Obviously too big is a lot better than too small, so I decided that I would use the pattern as it was, and then alter the fit once the velvet was attached to the cotton. This meant I could insert the eyelet closure and then alter the seams from there.

Then began the laborious task of cutting out all of the velvet panels and attaching them to the cotton. Because I detest wrinkles the only method I've ever found works to prevent them is by hand-basting layers together. This takes a while on a bodice, it took even longer on this gown. But slowly it began to come together.

I don't know if anyone else finds this problem, but some of my cotton panels weren't the same size as the velvet ones, despite the fact I'd used them to cut out the velvet. Some trimming was involved, but thankfully only on the skirt panels rather than the bodice. I think it may be because the velvet slipped as I was cutting it, but who knows...

As I've mentioned in another post I'm on my own in this hobby, so all of my creations need to have a closure that I can do unaided. My logic with this was that I could make the closure like a corset one in that I could slip it on over my head and then tighten it at the back until it fit.

For the bertha I was all set to whip out the embroidery needles and sew until my fingers bled and soul died. Then I watched a video from someone else who had attemtped this project. She used gold vine trim she found on the interwebs, and then I thought, surely there's something I can find as well? I don't mind a bit of embroidery, but if I could find something that was less time consuming to do then I was taking it.

After a few searches I finally found something that I thought would do the trick, along with some bonus items.

Then it was time to stop procrastinating and get on with fitting the dress. As I'd expected from the mock-up it was a bit big in places, so I ended up having to take 1/2" away from the SF seams and SB seams.

Don't worry, the white cotton cord belt is only temporary. You can also see my first mistake. The gores are uneven, I think they're off by about 3/4" possibly more, but at this stage I wasn't sure if I was going to fix it.

The next thing was to pattern the bertha/collar, not sure what the kids are calling it. This was easy, although I ended up having a lot of excess. Better that than not enough. Then it was the ordeal of trimming the damn thing. Rather than hand embroidery, which I wouldn't have finished for 60 years, I opted for bought trim. I found some silver vines from China, and when they arrived proceeded to hack them to pieces.

I laid them all out, with both back and front, and then attached them....by hand......ugh. I don't know how long this took, possibly not as long as it felt.

The Bertha is 2 layers of this awful stiff waxed/glazed cotton I bought by intentional mistake when I was doing my 1660s court gown. It was stiff enough to flatline the taffeta of that gown with and looked spot on. I wanted the Bertha to have some body, so this seemed like a good idea. I used 2 layers because that seemed to be better than just the one. I then cut the velvet with seam allowance and folded the bottom under and stitched by hand.

I left the seam allowance from the top free so I could attach it to the dress. I actually finished the neckline of the dress with bias binding made from the blue cotton I used for the interlining. With velvet I thought it best to have as many raw edges covered as possible. I ended up attaching the bertha by hand as well as I thought it's give me more control.

It was during this fitting that I noticed the back was buckling where the lacing was. I had already put a boning channel in, but after putting flat steel bones and finding it made the dress not fit as nice decided against it. However, when I noticed the pulling I knew I had to find something. This left either spiral steel, or plastic whalebone. So I tried both to see which was better. Both had the flexibilte that the flat steel lacked, but I ended up choosing spiral steel for that bit of extra strength.

Then it was onto the dreaded sleeves. I think these were the part of the project that caused the most thought and problem solving. I just couldn't settle on a pattern, and I even did miniatures on paper.

Thankfully I could do a mock-up of sorts. I decided I was going to line the sleeves with this gorgeous paisley poly satin I used as a lining for my 1950s winter coat. I seemed to have a lot of it floating around, like...a lot. I thought it would provide a nice contrast to the darkness of the velvet as well.

I had it in two colours, red and blue. Blue was obviously the final fabric, and the red has been kicking around my sewing room for 5 years (I know!), so it was time to put it to some use.

I think I did about 2 mock-ups before cutting out the blue lining piece, and then checking that before I finally cut into the velvet. I changed the shape of the sleeve because I thought it was closer to the original, but turns out I was wrong. They're also not as long as the original, but I drew the line at buying more fabric just to fix it.

I almost had to actually because I f**cked up with cutting the velvet. Because the sleeve was so long  and difficult to get symmetrical, it was easier to only pattern half of it and then flip it over on the centre line. Well, some idiot (me) forgot this and cut down the centre line instead.

I had two options. Make a seam there, which I didn't want to do because the original didn't have one. Or try and get the sleeve on the remaining length of fabric and piece together the difference. I went with the second option. The fabric is so fluffy and dark that you can't see any of the mistakes I made.

Then it was onto the underlseeves. My original plan was to have these as full length sleeves that attached to the over-sleeves with some kind of tacking stitch that would be invisible under the bertha. Then I watched Alicia Estelle's video on her own repro of Gwen's dress and saw that she used false undersleeves. This would be a lot easier than patterning and fitting an entire sleeve.

I'm not sure I love this idea. Since my fabric doesn't have any stretch I had to put a drawstring at the top of the arm, but even then the sleeve falls down. I'm toying with the idea of ribbons to attach it to the undersleeve.

The decoration took ages, but that's because I constructed the undersleeves before adding the trim. I should've added the trim before stitching...duh!

I really love the contrasting lining though, just not really the cut of the sleeves, but it could've been worse....so much worse.

Then was onto the hem. I took zero pics of this process, but let me assure you it was a looooonnnnnggg one. I finally managed to find out that Angel Coulby wore some kind of stiffened, quilted petticoat underneath the original as opposed to the crinloine I had thought initially. Still not wanting to do that I instead decided to face the hem. I had some leftover crin tape from my 1890s gown, but only enough to do the front quarter. So I had to use bias strips from the leftover cotton I had from my pocket hoops petticoat.

Attaching one edge ws by machine, but I had to finish it by hand. My God, I swear it never ended, it just kept going.......jk, it did end eventually, but took me hours. Then, it was finished.

I still have something going on with the sleeves. They're pulling the neckline down and puckering the Bertha for some reason, but at least it's the same on both sides. Alterantively this is bad because if it only happened on the side that's a bit tight at least I'd know how to fix it. Hopefully it isn't too noticeable.

That's just an interim belt I used, I actually made one from silver filigree squares, attached with small jump loops, which annoyingly, practically disintegrated on the day of the photoshoot. Not a clue why the jump loops refused to meet, or why the filigree squares always seemed to find a way to wriggle their way out.

There are a lot of problems with this gown, ones that I didn't really notice until the photoshoot. One is that the bertha keeps folding up at the shoulders. I predict this is due to the way I attached it, and possible the shape of the armscyes. The other is that it's uneven on where it sits on my shoulders, and this is definitely because one arm scye is tighter than the other.

The final one is the undersleeves. They were soooooo irritating on the day I took the photos. Every 3 seconds i was having to pull them up. Maybe one day I'll remove the drawstring, add a random scrap of fabric and just attach them them fully to the gown. The only issue with this, and one fo the reasons i opted for removable sleeves, was I need range of motion to fasten the gown myself, which might be impeded by tight sleeves. Or I could just replace the ribbon string with elastic....

One minor niggle, which I mayy have mention, is that the sleeves aren't long enough, or the right shape, but I think if they'd been any longer/heavier I would've had many more issues with the neckline.

All in all, I think I set my standards too high for this project and just expected right off the bat to be able to work miracles with velvet and my own sewing knowledge. To be honest, it's not a bad replica, and the gown itself, the main body, it practically constructed exactly like the original, so I won there. And let's end on a positive.

What to do when you're on your own a.k.a next level selfies

I am single, and I am proud of it. Sounds like a line, but it's true. My life is uncomplicated, and the only male I need in my life is my dog #cockerpoolove.

I also don't have any friends who sew, or make costumes like I do (I know, my life goal is to be a hermit). So, how do you take pictures of the things you make when there is no one to help?

An action shot from a solo photoshoot. I call it "stop the dog's lead from knocking over the tripod"

In case you find yourself in a similar situation, here's the steps I take.

1.) Try to make your outfits as easy to get into by yourself as possible.

Yes, this unfortunately does mean that CB fastenings might have to be left at the design stage. It is possible to lace yourself into tight-fitting bodices, i.e. stays, but I've only managed it once, and it was difficult as hell. Assuming you'll be travelling to a shooting location this either means you wear your outfit on your journey, which is ok-ish in a car, but what if you're taking public transport? Most of us who do historical costuming/costuming in general, are introverted, hence why we like a hobby that forces us to be by ourselves for most of the time. I've been in public three times wearing costume, and it gets exhausting. Suddenly, you, an introvert, finds themselves the centre of everyone else's attention. Nightmare.

The other alternative is to just get dressed on site, which is fine if there's a bathroom (yes, i have done this #priorattirevictorianball2017) but what if there isn't, like my latest photoshoot at an abandoned church? Fir trees and thick shrubbery can be invaluable (don't worry, I was never completely without clothes), and if you have a bigger car than my wee go-kart that's also a plus.
The easiest way is obviously to have front fastening, or perhaps side fastening outfits, which you can still do if you're a hardcore HA-er. From my knowledge it's only certain decades/eras where CB was the most common (mid-late victorian era, but there are some examples of front openings on extant gowns from this period). For example anything in the 18th century is all front fastening.
Everything I make has a front or side fastening, with the exception being the Baldoch gown, and a pair of 18th century stays that are currently in progress (but it is difficult getting into them because I don't bend that way).
I don't know about you, but when I'm on my own at the place I want to take photos, I want to get into my outfit as quickly as possible. To be fair I want the whole thing to be over as quickly as possible so people don't find me and start a conversation...

2.)  Equipment is key

I have a DSLR camera I invested in solely to build my costuming portfolio, but I knew I'd be working it by myself, so I also invested in a tripod, and a remote control clicker/shutter (I know, really excellent technical talk on this blog). I love both of these things, and I couldn't have built this blog without them. You can just put your camera on a timer, but who wants to run back and forth every 3-10 seconds?
It's much easier just having a remote control, which is why you always see one of my hands clasping something, and occasionally bent weirdly towards the camera (it can be tempermental). A tripod is easy too, you just stick it where you want it, adjust the height, but do be careful not to put it on a slope or you'll get some weird stuff like the photo below.

Makes me dizzy just looking at it. No, the church wasn't on a hill, the tripod was.

3.) Pick somewhere quiet

This is optional, but if you're desperately introverted (like most costumers are) then dressing up like Anne Boleyn and going to Hever castle to take photos of your new tudor frock will have you spending more time talking to other visitors than actually taking photos. This is fine if you're in a group because this has probably been arranged beforehand with the location you're visiting (at least, it should've been). I'm never sure about taking photos of places that you usually have to pay to get into. For instance Kenilworth Castle wanted to charge a friend of mine hundreds of pounds to have her engagement photos shot there. Wouldn't this be the same for costumers? Not to mention, places run by the national trust, or a private trust, will often have visitors, and we all know how much society loves a good conversation.
It's also not great to go to these places expecting no one to come up and talk to you, or want pictures with you. It's just something that comes with the territory, hence if you're looking for a quiet place to just take pics it's best to go somewhere else. I would recommend not being rude to people who do come up to you though, I'm not a complete monster. The last time I was dressed up in public many tourists in Bath stopped my friend and I for pics, which we agreed to, and we got a discount at a chocolate shop for our outfits (so there's always a silver lining).
My new favourite website is shot hotspot where people list abandoned or nice places that are good for photoshoots. Google was my best friend for this. Just type in "abandoned places for photos in <insert where you live>". This was how I found the beauty that was St Conan's church where the above pic was taken. Granted there were 2 houses beside it, but no one came out to ask what I was doing. The only 2 cars that used the road did slow down a bit, but didn't stop. I'm sure there are places like this all over the country, possibly even ones without houses adjacent.

And that's really it, 3 simple steps for taking pictures of yourself in costume. Obviously the ideal situation is to attend an event with other like-minded people and you can all take pics of each other, but at least 2 of the outfits I have in my portfolio aren't appropriate for any meet-ups because they're completely fantasy (and not the LOTR or GoT fantasy). Or if you live somewhere that's nigh on the middle of nowhere (ah, the dream), and only get to 1 or 2 events a year.

Do you have a better system? Do you love sewing but dislike photographing yourself?

A Natural Form Era Evening gown a.k.a F**k the partiarchy a.k.a Pumpkin spice

This became, over time, my rebellion gown. As a historical costumer I've spent the last 4 years trying to be as historically accurate as possible regarding materials, and to an extent techniques. But it never made me happy, and always cost a small fortune.

I read an interesting blog post from one of the blogs I follow, entitled "I'll do me, you do you". I have a post railing against the treatment of costumers by the HA crowd, and I decided last year that I'm no longer pampering to their needs.

I felt bad for this project for a long time because I started with such high hopes and then it languished almost done in the sewing room for the better part of 2018, then I finally finished it almost 12 months after I'd begun. And after all of that I still don't particularly like it.

I'm wearing my natural form era corset, and a petticoat underneath. There are 3 layers, underskirt which is made of orange polycotton, overskirt of silk, and the silk bodice.

I even took a video!

Background/inspiration

I don't know what it is but it doesn't shout natural form to me. There just isn't enough trim. The bodice is a little too plan, the lace bertha is more 1840s than natural form, and the apron just isn't apron-y enough. The only nice things about this project is the colour (still don't regret my choice) and the cut of the bodice.  I think I could have left the apron out altogether now, instead just making the underskirt out of DS with the rows of pleating at the bottom because in its current state the rows of pleating are a little lost. I should have just made the train a detachable panel. It looked better in my head, or rather on this fashion plate that I based it off.

The one on the right

I think I should've used more fabric for the apron to get it as tightly gathered as the one in the fashion plate, but I was cheap....oops. I was also disappointed on the rebellion front with the colour as I later found this fashion plate for a little earlier in the decade with the exact colour pallet I've used.

The bodice is actually a reproduction of this one, I think it's from The Age of Innocence film, where this gown was worn by Wynona Ryder's character (I've never seen the film so don't know her character's name).

I obviously put pleats in my bodice, whereas they didn't with the costume. But I pretty much nailed the front, sans the buttons because CBA with that.

Overall, as much as I like the natural form era, it just doesn't fit my general sewing style of minimal trim. It's a bit like Claire's red dress in Outlander. It was made of such a bright colour that Terry Dresbach (the costume designer) decided not to trim it. I prefer bold, bright colours with minimal to no trim, to trimming something up to its seamlines. This will possibly always be my downfall when it comes to costuming, which means me and the natural form era will probably never get on. I also can't see me revisiting this period for a very long time, but at least I have a few pointers on how I'd do things differently.

The Making of...

Just a slight warning folks, because this project took me so long to complete, this post is very, very long.

It started with fabric. I have been at least 95% accurate regarding natural fibres since I began my costuming journey, even if they are expensive. I must admit, I used cotton for last year's ball because I wasn't willing to fork out the hundreds of pounds on another silk dress, but I was disappointed with it because I knew it wasn't worth much, therefore I didn't try. I vowed that 2018 would be different. However, for the natural form era, the few repros I've seen use Duchess satin (DS), and have you seen the price per metre of 100% silk DS? The most expensive I've seen is over £100 p/m, and one of the top suppliers of the fabric in this country (UK) was charging £79 p/m. To make a Victorian gown, you need quite a few metres, making the price shoot up for the natural form era. Sorry, not sorry, but I'm not paying that amount of money for a dress that's getting worn once.

So, I found the cheapest DS I could find, and obviously not in the colour I wanted, instead, as a f**k you, I bought as little metres as I could of the most garish and non-elegant colour ever. Bright orange.

I was rewarded for my rebellion. Customer services emailed me a day after I placed an order for 4 metres, stating they only had it in 2 pieces, one of 2m, and the other of 2.8m. They'd send me both if I wished, but still only charge me for the 4m. Score! Although a few weeks later I did stumble across something that took a tiny amount of joy out of this bargain, but I'll get to that. I, however, was very aware that there were no mess ups permitted from that point on because there was no more of the silk left, however, that remedied itself quite quickly.

I had a design in mind for the dress, which involved my first foray into pleating. There seem to be about three staple ways to do these. One is "divide and conquer", or measuring and pinning by hand, the other is literally using a knife or fork to make the pleats, and the third is, of course, a pleating board. I won't go into detail about why I didn't chose the other methods, but I ended up doing all my pleated ruffles with a cut out mini smartie packet. Resourcefulness is my new sewing mantra.

In my laziness I didn't Google how to work out how many metres you'd need to cut to get the pleated length long enough for what you wanted, so I did an experiment. I got a scrap of cotton, measured it, then pleated it into 1" pleats (I could have done the arithmetic, but I'm a visual learner). I have now proved to myself that the 3 times the length is, in fact, true.

Aware that I only had 4.8 metres, I hesitated cutting it, and honestly when I did, wished I had used taffeta. I forgot one important thing about DS; it curls like an absolute bitch. There aren't enough non-sweary words in the English or Scots vocabulary that can fully express how much it curled. From a 5 inch width strip of DS, I had a tube of it instead.

However, I'm getting ahead of myself. The base of the underskirt isn't silk, it's equally bright orange cotton. Why? Well, because I haven't been able to grow my money tree yet, and this is actually HA, but that's coincidental. Because fabric was so expensive, especially silk, seamstresses used different fabric on base layers up until the point they would be seen. There's a really good example floating around pinterest, a grey 1880s day ensemble. the underskirt has three panels of different fabric, with the silk velvet only at the hem.

Another technique I wanted to try was flatlining skirt panels. I didn't intend on it, because that's another amount of fabric, but since the underskirt was going to be bottom/hem heavy, I thought flatlining it would give it more body. Still undecided as to whether it made a lot of difference, apart from the weight aspect.

Instead of constructing the whole skirt, then hemming and waistband-ing it, I did things a bit weirdly. The main reason was that I drafted the skirt pattern myself, from a book. Not my first foray, but certainly with respects to skirts (all I did before this was stays). Unlike the 3 panel petticoat (CB, CF, and SF), I decided to use 4 panels for the outer layer (CF, SF, SB, CB) taken precisely from the book. I flatlined all panels, then constructed the 3 front panels, leaving the CB unattached. Why? So I could mount the pleated ruffle to the front of the skirt.

Ruffles, and a lot of skirt decoration in this period don't go all of the way around, especially if there's an overskirt covering them. My overskirt will start to cover the hem of the underskirt at roughly the side, making it pointless to ruffle the hem all the way around. I also have an awful track record of putting ruffles in straight. I swear the ones I've done up until now have been pure luck. I also wanted to face the hem (I know, it still seems a little OTP), which I find notoriously difficult, so to make life easier I did that separately for both panels, and then attached them when mostly everything was done. It was a lot easier.

I only attached one pleated ruffle to the hem before finishing construction, mostly because I was waiting for another fabric to arrive. No, not silk, but polyester! I truly think this is the point when this gown truly became a f**k you gown. The colour scheme for this dress was always orange and black, very halloween, but I always do white and wanted a change this year. Originally, there were going to be 2 ruffles at the hem, but I was afraid I wouldn't have enough orange silk left if I did that.

A solution was to have the second in another colour, mainly black. I didn't want to fork out more money for DS in black, and so I ordered poly instead because it was cheaper, and for one ruffle on the bottom of the gown, I don't care. Whilst looking for black DS on ebay, I came across the exact silk I was using.
From the company I ordered mine from, there were many equally offensive shades, green, bright blue, red, etc, and I chose orange because I found it the prettiest, and didn't want another red dress. The seller on ebay wasn't the one I'd originally bought the silk from, and they had a 5m length of it, for cheaper than my supplier had been selling 1m! So that went in my basket, along with 4m of the horrid green that was nearly half of the price of 1m. After looking further at this seller, I realised that orange and green must be unwanted colours, hence the low price, because both the red and pink were far more expensive. Don't ask me what I'll ever use the green for, but that's what a stash is for, right? I did find it annoying that 2 weeks after I'd paid full price for 4m of the orange, worrying if it would be enough, that i found 5m ridiculously cheap on ebay. That's life, though, I suppose.

The second issue came with the overskirt. I had spent a good while thinking about the logistical design of the overskirt because it wasn't typical. I had decided last year that I was going all out with this dress, and that bled into design. The overskirt would be of black silk Georgette, apron fronted, and the CB panel would be DS in orange. They wouldn't, however, be attached to one another. If I'm not making any sense, I don't blame you. I based the skirts from these fashion plates, taking the things i liked about both of them and merging them into one design.
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The CB panel would be free hanging, attached to the same waistband as the apron front and silk sides. They would be tied together, to prevent the CB panel from gaping and showing the cotton underskirt beneath.

My first semi-unforseen problem involved the Georgette. I used a Truly Victorian pattern for the apron overskirt, and ignored the recommendation that you use a study-ish fabric. For those of you who have ever used silk Georgette, it is not sturdy in any way, shape, or form. it is the complete opposite. Rather than pleat the sides, I gathered them to create the apron front, however the CF of the panel dropped, understandably. There's not enough body to hold the shape of the gathers from one side seam to another, so the CF touched the floor whilst the side seams were gathered. One good thing was that the apron overskirt consisted of 2 panels, a CF and a SF. I had done french seams because Georgette frays badly, and decided to do another row of gathering stitches at the SF seam in the hopes that would maybe solve the problem.

It did, but not quite the way I was hoping. It turned into a double-apron overskirt in that there was a CF panel apron, and then SF apron panels. Honestly, I quite liked it. It was unique, and I liked the floofy floatiness it gave the side panels. The other option was to buy black silk organza, which may hold the shape better, but that would involve forking out more money during a month where I felt like my entire expenses had been on fabric for the stash. I decided to keep the Georgette solely because of the unique way it now looked, and continued on with the design.

I attached it to the DS side panels I' designed myself, and then came the monster that was the train. I decided to experiment with this. Because I wanted a long train on this one, it meant I would have to make a Bayaleuse, or a dust ruffle, and also because the silk is quite thin, I flatlined the back panel in white cotton poplin, like I had done with the underskirt. However, I baglined it, in that right sides together, I stitched around the sides, and then flipped it the right way. I've always had issued with this way because the lining always tends to peek out over the top of the fashion fabric, and that's ok if they're the same colour, but not so if they're not. I thought, if the lining was slightly smaller than the fashion fabric, then surely this wouldn't be a problem? So I did that, and thought it worked really well, until I put everything together and started walking around, and spotted the edge of the bright white cotton peeking out from underneath the silk at the hem. Not at the sides, at least. I know how i was supposed to do it, with a method that ensures you can never see the lining, but that would have involved a lot of hand sewing, and CBA.

It's kind of hard to miss peeking out at the hem

However, apart from the minor snark, I was chuffed with how this turned out, even the silhouette was better than I could have hoped for. I think I have the flatlining to thank for that, and of course the small bustle pillow underneath it all.

Looks perfect with that lining hidden

I "invisible" stitched the lining to the outer at the hem and the sides, hoping that would help, then it was onto decoration. This came during a weekend when I was listless, and CBA doing anything with this project. The 18th century was calling me. I managed to get all the bows cut out and mostly constructed, I even got one attached.

Smaller than I imagined, but CBA at this stage, momentum was being lost very quickly. Then the easter holiday week came, and I told myself that it was the best opportunity to push forward with this ensemble, in that the bodice needed to be started.

I got the pattern from the bodice from the same as the skirt, Fashions of the Gilded Age, which focuses on the natural form era. It took 4 mock-ups before I was satisfied. Then I constructed the bodice that weekend and by the end almost had it complete. I never drafted sleeves, because I wanted them to be straight rather than poufed, and it needed hemmed and decorated.

The one minor problem was the fit. I had to take one of the side seams in a little weirdly because it was bubbling, and over all of the skirts the entire thing became a bit snug. It went from having a 3/4 inch overlap at CF to a meagre 1/2". I was still undecided on what closure to do at CF, but with so little an overlap that put functional buttons out of the picture, not that I was champing at the bit to do them again. My mind leaned towards hooks and eyes, possibly with fake buttons, but I have actually never learned a hard and fast rule for doing openings. I just fit bodices so there's some kind of overlap, and then figure it out from there.

I had the same issues last year in that the bodice was a bit too snug, however I hadn't finished the inside seams, and the fabric was forgiving, so I just took out the side seams. However, DS is not forgiving to the picker, and I'd already sewed on boning channels and stitched the seam allowances down, so I was reluctant to take any of the seams out.

It helped that I had no intention of wearing this gown in the foreseeable future.

It also had wrinkles!! I do not understand how you get rid of them. I even ironed the panels as I flatlined them to the cotton, yet, there they are. I think the next time I work with this fabric (because we all know there'll be a next time) I'll use fusible interfacing first, and see if that perhaps helps.

There are two things I began to love about this ensemble. One is the colour, which really started coming to life when I made the overskirt and the bodice. Two is the back. It's my first time working with back pleats, and I'm so happy how they turned out.

Unfortunately, I ended up taking the bustle pad off, and still had a massive arse; turns out I just have a large backside that doesn't need help. The whole thing looked more like first bustle era than natural form. The fact that I didn't make a cuirasse bodice also didn't help. I don't know what happened. The fact that I flatlined the skirt meant that it held its shape well, and all the pleating at the back from three layers of skirts made it so that I had a poufey backside. The look improved after removing the bustle pad, but this style is still more reminiscent of 1876-1878, the first years of natural form, rather than the later years when the skirts were very close fitting. To be honest, I prefer the first years anyway, so no love lost there.

The double apron!

Then this project sat for the better part of a year whilst I jumped into the 18th century. It was moved around the sewing room, squishes, folded, stuffed into all kinds of places. Then, at the beginning of 2019, almost a year since I began making it, I decided to finish this bitch once and for all.

The first thing to come off was that front panel of silk georgette. I bought silk organza instead and it actually had the opposite problem, it had too little apron, but was still better than the above.

I fixed the front closure by moving the hook and eye tape, then stitched it to the edges. Time was of the essence at this point because the longer it dragged on the less likely I was to finish it this year. The sleeves were drafted (badly) and sewn in, then the lace I bought as the bertha was sewn on to finish the upper neckline. It was so long it made me wonder why I went to the trouble of the sleeves when you can't actually tell there are any.

After 9 months of being thrown around the sewing room the bows I hadn't stitched into the over-skirt were lost, and I couldn't find the black duchess satin anywhere, so 2 bows are actually from the remnants of the organza.

I pleated one more row of orange DS for the underskirt and sewed that on, and bam! Done!

The last thing to do, and quite a rare thing TBH, was to sew hooks and bars to each of the skirts, and I was done.....except not quite. I still needed to hem the organza apron.....I think we all know that unless I'm going somewhere in this gown that isn't my back garden to take pics, that hem is going to stay unfinished.