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?

Photoshoot location: St Cohan's church, Merther

Every costumer has a portfolio, no matter how big or small, but how do you give your costumes the showing they deserve if you're on your own, or you've made something and can't find an event to attend? You take pictures yourself, following my 3 simple steps.

But where?

I'm not a photographer, not by any means. I have a DSLR camera, a remote control, and a tripod. That's it. But have you ever visited somewhere, or gone walking in enchanted forest land with the dog and just thought, my God this would be the perfect setting for my such and such outfit? I have, many, many times.

I usually take to my back garden for pictures, but that comes with it's own dangers. Mainly, my nosy neighbours. I don't like conversation with people and will avoid it at all costs, especially when I stick out like a sore thumb in my Victorian or Georgian ensemble. It's just not really something I want to chat about with my neighbours. This means my photoshoots are often rushed, which isn't ideal.

Then I came across the idea of using abandoned places to take photoshoots. There must be hundreds, even thousands of places in this country that have been abandoned but still good for a photoshoot. Hell, I used to live practically beside an abandoned victorian asylum (which unfortuantely was still attached to a functioning hospital).

On my recent holiday in Cornwall I decided that because I was away for a week it was a great opportunity to take pictures of the outfits that I'd finished but never photographed. I did what any savvy millenial does when they have a problem, I took to Google. I searched for abandoned places in Cornwall and wasn't disappointed. Turns out this is a big-ish category.

Amateur costumers like myself aren't the only ones who need cool places for photographs of their products. Obviously I was limited by geography (Cornwall is surprisingly large), because of where I was staying it took ages to get to a main road, and I didn't want to spend long driving. Some of the places were abandoned/derelict buildings, but in towns and villages, so not really ideal if I didn't want to have a chat with strangers.

Then I came across a location better than I could've hoped for. St Cohan's church in Merther, just south of Truro. It was 30 minutes away from my holiday let, and from the pictures I saw it was hauntingly beautiful. Who doesn't love an abandoned church?

St Cohan's church was reportedly built in the 14th century and enjoyed success right up until the end of the Victorian era, when it began to decline. The population of the parish unsurprisingly dwindled duing this time until the church was completely abandoned in the early 20th century. A gruesome fact was that it was also used as a mortuary chapel for a while because it's replacement church didn't have a graveyard, but St Cohan's did.

The church in 2019 has mostly been reclaimed by nature, and there's a small notice at the entrance advising people not to enter because it's unstable and may fall down at any moment. To be honest you can't see the church from the road, and barely any brick is left uncovered by the ivy that's engulfed this once thriving wee church. It is enchanting to look at though.

It's very peaceful, despite the people who still live beside it doing their gardening whilst I was there. No main road will take you directly to it, and it's surrounded by farms, fields, and narrow country roads (thank God for my go-kart size car). The upside is that you'r sat-nav will take you right there, just be careful not to miss it!

As I said two people actually live beside it, and there's a farm at the end of the lane which you can just see from the churchyard. It is unsafe to enter, although I saw a picture from 2017 of the inside, so not that unsafe, apparently.

I didn't go inside, just in case someone took issue to it. Someone still takes care of the grounds though, and apparently they still have an easter service outside every year.

The church's future is unclear, but for now, it's a pretty destination if you have costumes to photograph.

1890s evening gown

Pumpkin spice natural form era gown

Fantasy Baldoch dress

A Fantasy Gown: The Baldoch dress a.k.a renaissance faire vibes

Note: I wrote this blog post back in 2017 and it's been lurking in my drafts ever since, but now I finally got to take some pics of this gown I can publish this post, but CBA changing it. This was written when I was still in my trying-to-be-HA phase, which, as you know if you're a regular reader, has ended. So enjoy!

I haven't made anything non-historical since my first ever project; my fantasy Italian renaissance dress. It currently sits in my wardrobe at my parent's house, but I will have to take proper pictures of it because I still love it to this day. Don't get me wrong, the seams aren't finished, and its completely poly (apart from the cotton velvet bodice). I miss fantasy, and do you know why? Because you can use friggin anything!!

I love historical costuming, believe me I wouldn't sew half of my projects if I didn't, but sometimes it's just so annoying. Because I try to be historically accurate it means that nice fabric gets looked over because it's not 100% natural fibre. I have a growing bookmark list full of polys and poly mixes of the most beautiful fabric just waiting to be bought, but can't be because they're not HA. Well, after my 80% accurate regency spencer (which I think I may have put in the bin), I decided that the next project on the list this year was a fantasy gown I've been thinking about for months.

You're probably wondering at the name of this project. Baldoch (pronounced the Scottish way, please, Bahl-dochhh, like Loch), to my knowledge, is fictional (there is a place in Kent, but it's spelled differently). It is a made-up kingdom that I created in one of my short lived story ideas (the plot was weak and the storyline outplayed), but the idea of the gown remained. I wanted a flow-y dress made of layers and layers of chiffon, with a train that dragged out when I walked, and bishop style (although I hear the youths of today are calling it balloon) sleeves. So I set to work in what is probably the most unplanned project in any sewer's list.

The Making of...

I started out with the best of intentions. I wanted to start learning how to draft my own patterns, and I remembered that one of my books has a section at the beginning that shows you how to draft basic bodice, skirt, sleeve, and trouser patterns. I looked at the bodice and thought why would I draft it from scratch when the pattern I drafted for the Victorian Ball 2017 was exactly what I wanted? I was torn with the skirt. I knew I needed a panelled skirt if I wanted the volume at the hem with no bulk at the waist, and I ended up digging out both my 1860s and 1870s skirt patterns. In the end I drafted one completely from scratch, using the very helpful instructions in the book.

Now, as you may or may not know, I have 2 degrees in statistics, two, and I'm going to be starting a 3rd (a PhD - I know, I'm insane). Taking all that into consideration do you think I could half my waist measurement? Absolutely not. What made it worse was that it took me a week, and a fully drafted skirt pattern, to realise I'd not managed to successfully divide a number by 2. Yet, somehow, despite the spectacular brain malfunction, the completed skirt is still too big!  How...just how?! Numbers don't work the same way in costuming as they do in real life! Needless to say, I'm glad whatever happened did because it meant I didn't have to back to the drawing board - literally.

Fabric was actually quite hard because I didn't know what colour scheme I wanted. If you read this blog a lot you probably know I have issues with colours. I'm not colour blind or anything I just don't know what colours go together. For my first bustle era day ensemble I had to copy the colour scheme from a fashion plate, something I will no doubt repeat in the future. I knew I wanted chiffon for the skirts solely because of the drape and flow-iness, but there are different kinds of chiffon. It's meant to be sheer, but I've seen a few that are quite opaque. The other bad thing about poly is that everywhere does it. Usually I have a select few suppliers that stock HA fabrics, but every fabric shop in existence stocks poly. I still stuck to the usual suspects. I also decided I wanted a tonal effect, if that's how you put it. Because chiffon is see-through to an extent I wanted to create a kind of marbl-y effect through the layers.

The first layer was actually a purple poly crepe, just to make sure that no one was seeing what was underneath the skirts. The next layer was a lovely, yet thick, lilac chiffon. This chiffon was strange as it acted more like a Georgette in that it wasn't shiny, and it was barely see through. I didn't really need to use the crepe lining but I did anyway. The next layer was a bottle green chiffon I got from a shop on Ebay I'd never used before. I couldn't find the right green at any of my suppliers so took to Ebay. It was completely different quality from the lilac. It was labelled as bridal chiffon, and it was shiny with a little crunch, and was practically see-through. I wasn't that impressed with it, but I liked the colour so I cracked on.

Let this be a lesson to anyone reading. When drafting your own pattern I recommend writing instructions on how to assemble it. I can hear the snickers of derision from here, but I didn't do this because it's a dress, with two pieces that go together, how hard can it be? It wasn't to be honest, except that I forgot about the layers of the skirt. Another foolish thing I did when cutting out the skirt panels was making them all different widths, and this was because all 3 fabrics were different widths, and because I was lazy, and knew I wanted the skirt pleated to the bodice, just used one width by the desired length. I thought it would be a pain in the arse to put all three panels together and pleat them as one, so I attached the lining to the bodice first, pleating to fit. Have you seen the problem yet?

The mistake

The top most layer of the skirt is meant to go right sides together with the bodice, but because I'd done that with the bottom layer, it meant there was no way of attaching the other two layers. Now, I hate the seam ripper, and there was another reason I didn't want to use it on this project (you'll understand when I come to the bodice). What do you do when there's lemons? You make lemonade, kids. There is also more than one way to skin a cat.

The crepe layer was attached, and I was drowning in metres of chiffon. My solution was to hem both top and bottom of the remaining panels, and then attach them on top. This would create a lot of bulk, so I kind of planned to grade them, with the top most layer hiding the very visible seam of the middle one. The order was, crepe as the base, lilac as the inter-layer, and then the bottle green on the top.

I had attached the lilac layer with semi-visible blue thread, and it was looking good. Then when I went to drape the green layer on I stopped.

It ruined it. The green layer just muted the vibrancy of the lilac and made the whole thing....well....meh. Not to mention, because I was planning on covering the lilac layer I hadn't measured the pleats, and they weren't even in the same place on either side of the front!

What was I going to do? I had cut and hemmed this nightmare chiffon layer, and couldn't bear the thought of not using it. One seam hadn't been sewn up yet, so I thought of making it like a detachable train, then realised I hadn't sewed up the CB, the longest piece. Ugh.

So I made lemonade again. I took inspiration from the regency era. I read somewhere on a pattern (think it might be S&S) that some empire gowns were only pleaded between the curved side back seams. The bodice had these as well, so I did the same thing with this skirt.

I also made it so the skirt didn't go all the way round, leaving the bright lilac on show in the front. I was satisfied, considering what a disaster this project was already turning into.
One more note about the lilac skirt is that I faced the hem. I couldn't quite get away from historical costuming, but there is a reason for this. I faced it with bias binding all the way round, but corded the back panel. I wanted the skirt to pull out behind me, and thought adding the cord would weigh it down, thereby dragging behind me. To make matters worse because I thought I was going to cover it the binding is that tartan I can't seem to finish and have used on most of my projects since the beginning of time, and obviously the cord makes the hem look a little weird as well. Oh well, we live and learn.

Let's move onto the bodice. This was another weird one. As I stated above I used the pattern from my first bustle era ensemble made for the Victorian Ball 2017. I knew it fitted me perfectly over a corset (which I was wearing with this dress anyway), so I used it. The first thing that went wrong was the waistline. For some reason it lost a few inches in the process of transferring it from the Victorian pattern to its own one. This dress is meant to be at the natural waistline, but you can see it's crept up an inch or two, not that it's a bad thing, I suit that as well (just not empire, please, God, not empire waistlines). But considering I made a mock up of it anyway, was surprising. I even added a seam allowance to the bottom! I suppose this is what happens when you don't plan anything.

Mock-up

Next we have the fabric. Let me start this by saying I love this fabric, absolutely love it. It's embroidered velvet, and boy was it expensive for poly. At £25 p/m (and it comes in different colours) I was a bit reluctant, but bought it anyway, thinking it would be perfect and I would only need 2 metres (but still, for a poly blend?). I've only worked with cotton velvet, never a poly blend, and this was so bad. It moulted worse than my dog! For days and weeks after it had been on the cutting table I was finding bits, and I had even vacuumed after each cutting session because I know how bad it can be for dog's lungs. So much for that effort, evil stuff.

It was also a bit** to get the scissors through. The gold vines are this strange golden embroidery thread I've used before, kind of like imitation thread of gold, not really sure if it has a name and what that name is. It was also bejewelled, and because the pattern pieces sometimes rested on these jewels I had to hack them off, and for anyone who was worked with poly velvet will know how painful this can be.

It was thin fabric, and in hindsight I should have flat lined it instead of just lining it, but oops, I didn't. Can't remember what my logic for not doing it was. I bag-lined it (is that the term?) with blue marble-y effect cotton I had in the stash. That's what you can see poking from the arm holes.

For once the lining actually fit perfectly to the bodice, so I took this small victory. There are no bones in this, because CBA, and this dress was meant to be flowy and delicate, so bones would have been a little counter-productive.

The sleeves were a joy in that they were the easiest part of the entire damn thing. I have always been a fan of bishop/balloon sleeves and read online how to alter a straight sleeve pattern. The book I used by Elizabeth Friendship also has instructions on how to draft a straight sleeve pattern, and I felt so clever! Since this isn't a tutorial blog (yet) I won't go into detail (not to mention I took no pics of the process), but I ended up with this huge pattern that wouldn't even fit onto the fabric, so I trimmed it accordingly.

I made the sleeves of the lilac chiffon, and was going to put cuffs at the wrist, but then CBA with that, so ended up hemming them and putting a ribbon through as a drawstring. Finished with lovely etched aglets that I've always wanted to use.

This was my last project in my old sewing room as I moved house a few weeks after completion. As people reading this blog will probably have seen or know about the other costuming blogs out there, they always have really cool photoshoots, and for years I've been planning to have one. I had the perfect location, but no suitable camera, and buying it was put off and put off, so it took me 2 years to actually photo this project on me. I am wearing my natural form era corset underneath.