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?
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.
Goodness, it's that time of year again. I don't usually do a separate post on reviewing what I've made but I was looking at the one I wrote last year and decided it may be too long.
One of my goals this year was to blog more, which I don't feel I really did. This year the problem was with actually finishing projects. I realise I have a problem in that I very rarely see projects through to completion. They sit with seams unfinished, fastenings not done, and edges fraying. This will be more like a list of incomplete projects than a review of what I've done in 2018.
1.) Natural form era gown.
This comes with a story, like they all do. I made this for Prior Attire's ball in May, but by April it looked as though my friend couldn't go due to work commitments, and I was never really that keen on attending another one (I have a blog on my experiences of events like this that I'll leave you to find). I had a corset, petticoat, underskirt, over-skirt, and evening bodice all nearly done. I had worked on them for ages, but when I realised we weren't going I lost interest very quickly and they've been moved around the sewing room for the last 8 months. The corset and petticoat are complete (minus flossing and hook and eye, respectively). The underskirt needs another row of pleating at the hem and a fastening. The over-skirt I kind of messed up a wee bit so I'm currently toying with unpicking parts of it and re-doing them. The bodice edges need finishing, and I also had a bit of a nightmare adding hook and eye tape which will need to be fixed.
This is another project that's added to the never-ending list of "needs fixed/finished". I do have a collection of in progress photos that will have to do for now.
2.) 1780s Pierrot ensemble
This was the main project of this year as it was a new era for me. I made a challenge for myself in that I didn't want to use commercial patterns, only ones I had scaled up. I even styled a half-wig for this period, with questionable success. I tried to make a chemise, which was far too big, 2 pairs of stays, a linen petticoat, silk taffeta petticoat, and the Pierrot jacket.
I really liked working in this period, and found a new love for 18th century stays. That love was so strong that I've made at least 3 pairs (all unfinished) in 2018 alone, with some shaky plans to continue into 2019.
3.) 1780s Chemise a la reine ensemble
The 1780s and 90s are my favourite decades of the 18th century, and as a result I spent most of the sewing year making various pieces from the ground up. This consisted of the same semi-disastrous 1780s stays, an experimental petticoat lined with cotton organdie, and a really nice printed cotton for the chemise itself.
4.) 1790s round gown
I don't know what made me do this one...I'd probably found a fabric that I liked. Again I had to make everything from the foundations up with this one, and this was also the first experience I had with using the AD guide to 18th century dress making. This also confirmed to me I don't suit an empire waist, even if it isn't as high as traditional "Austen" style gowns.
5.) 1660s court gown
This one had been on my list for years, and since the final season of Versailles came out this year I decided to start on it. Unfortunately, the sewing drought of 2018 hit in the middle and I found myself going less and less into the sewing room. The gown is nearly finished, finishing edges and adding trim to the bodice kind of stuff, but by this point it does feel never ending. Here are some in progress photos until I finally finish it. It has been a bit of a disaster on the whole, kind of like putting fires out at every junction, but it looks alright....from a distance.
6.) Vintage inspired skirts
I have been wearing the same skirts for about 5-6 years now. Some have small holes, others are faded to a completely different colour, but all of them suddenly became too short for my liking. I also began my journey into vintage clothing this year. Instead of paying through the nose for vintage repro clothes I thought why don't I just make them myself. Using one of my old skater skirts I made a pattern, tweaked it here and there, and then made 2 skirts from 4m of tartan fabric. One was the "mock-up" for the pleating pattern, and the other had a thicker waistband.
7.) Misc
I put this category in here because I made a few accessories this year, and began another hobby. I made an 18th century pocket, hand embroidered; I styled a half-wig into a 1780s hedgehog; and I began a new hobby of crocheting this year.
Turns out 2018 was the year for building my 18th century wardrobe, which I'm completely ok with. The 18th century and I still have some unfinished business in the shape of stays. I think it feels to me like I didn't make much because there's only 3 completed outfits, and 2 unfinished ones, but I had to make everything from the foundations up with all of them, so I suppose I've actually been quite productive.
I also ventured outside a lot with my costumes, which was something I wanted to accomplish last year. I didn't quite make it outside the safety of my own garden, but let's take baby steps.
2018 was a bit of a quiet year, not that I'm complaining, I just hope it continues that way.
