I must be a very weird person. I have stated repeatedly on this blog that I hate making corsets....all except 2 that is. The first was the Sew Curvy Victoria kit. It hardly needed any alteration, and it gave me shape instead of the other shapeless tubes I'd made before, and it prompted my disastrous attempt at an authentic pattern.
The Making of...
I wasn't happy with the first natural form era corset I made. Those winkles of the satin haunt me, and the shape just isn't right. I vowed to do it again, making the adjustments I knew it needed and just in general improving it. Then I got Jean Hunnisett's book for the 19th century. Inside was a basic corset pattern of 5 pieces, no gores, gussets, or any of that nonsense. Upon a closer read I found out that it was either based on, or actually from, an authentic 1878 corset pattern. Perfect, just the era I needed!
I had already scaled up and enlarged a pattern from a book (my 18th century stays from Waugh, to be blogged about in due course), and this would be no different. The first time had been so much fun, so much problem solving, so many lovely numbers. After some initial confusion, and miscalculations of my own measurements, I had a pattern that should fit me exactly.
I physically don't understand why they never do. Don't get me wrong, it was much closer than my first attempt of my stays, but still a wee bit off. That was the most frustrating. It wasn't massively off, the mock-up closed completely at the back, but fit everywhere otherwise quite comfortably. I wanted a 2" lacing gap at the back, which meant I had to take this ridiculously small amount from each seam (0.5mm) since that's how I understand enlarging patterns.
Second mock-up still laced completely closed at the back, but this time fit more snugly. Not wanting to faff about with another half a cm, just to be sure I took about 0.7mm from the waist and hips, and 0.8mm from the bust, since, yes you guessed it, that was too big. I don't get this. I swear I have a chest. Granted, it's not that big, but it's definitely there.
When I looked at my measurements/proportions, I found that there wasn't many cm between my waist and bust. Until the waist I am literally just straight up and down, none of this hourglass loveliness, and my boobs themselves aren't much. I've always had this problem with patterns. given my size, I should be well-endowed, but for some reason I'm not. It's not a complaint, in every other area of my life I'm glad I'm quite modest in that area, but when it comes to drafting patterns and scaling them up, it's weird to find that you may as well just draw a straight vertical line from your bust to your waist.
Finally, at the third mock-up, the current record for any garment I've made, we had a corset that fitted, and had a lacing gap at the back, albeit what looked like a small one. Eager, I cut into the cute spot brioche coutil I'd bought for the corset, and began constructing it in record time. I don't know if it was because I had technically constructed 3 of this corset before starting on the final one, or I'm just getting quicker at the sewing process, but it was cut out, busk inserted, and pieces stitched together in about 4 hours. Boning channels and boning itself took another 3 hours.....ok, not sounding super fast anymore considering the professionals make 4 and more in a day, but I'll take the small win.
What I should have done was a fitting when all pieces were constructed, except for the fact I started boning the seams before putting the centre back panel to the others. Instead my first fitting of the finished garment was after I had finished boning the whole thing. It did fit, although slightly snug, which I suppose is a stupid statement considering it's a corset, but I felt like it was digging in to my underarms, which I suppose is easily fixed.
Then came a small niggle. In my last corset, also a mid-bust, one of my friends asked me if it wasn't too short at the bust, and when I looked closer it kind of looked that way. After taking pics of this one at the first stage fitting, I began to be paranoid it was also too short at the top. I had been so busy concentrating on getting some curves to my hips that I've never addressed where corsets are supposed to stop. This pattern was described as a mid-bust, but does that mean stop at your bust line exactly, or a few more cm higher.
From what I can understand mid-busts are supposed to support the chest, probably pushing it up in the process, not squeezing them up like 18th century ones. At the end of the day this corset is wider at the chest, and I'm not spilling over the top of it. Looking more closely at other people's corsets I think I might have figured out the slight miss-design in mine. it's meant to curve upwards from centre front to the middle of the breast, if that makes sense, and then curve down under the arm-pits. Mine is slightly curved, but not by much, which is perhaps why this looked a little strange to me. Oh well, something to work out in the next corset, of which they'll inevitable be one.
Because this lovely nude spot brioche is so flexible, I could have chosen any colour, but keeping with the gentle colours, I chose a pastel green, if that's what you would call it. I can't seem to make anything that doesn't have a small contrast. I think it just would have been too boring if I'd used beige/nude bias binding. It was enough that I bought matching coloured laces.
I even flossed this one properly, and in the midst of the job (which took a few months because procrastination) I got a DSLR camera for super-HD images. I don't know about anyone else, but it always takes me a few goes to get the flossing right, and they're never uniform. Probably just an experience thing since every time I've flossed, a total of about 2 times, I've used different patterns.
They do start looking a lot better the more I do. And with the flossing complete, the corset was finally ready.
I'm making all the corsets in 2019 apparently. One of my projects for this year was an 1890s gown. Granted, I could've just used my natural form era one, but to my knowledge the shape slightly changes from the 1870s to the 1890s. I scoured all of my books and found the "pretty housemaid" corset in Salen's "Corsets" to be the easiest pattern.
The making of...
I had bought some black cotton coutil in a sale, and since the original corset in the book is black with yellow I decided just to do that.
I made 1 mock-up, of which I took no pictures. This project flew under the radar a wee bit because I was doing so many other things at the same time. Simultaneously I was also re-doing Waugh's 1776 stays, making prototype pocket hoops, designing a robe a la francaise, and even began to draft a fantasy gown.
The thing about corsets, to me, is that they're hard on the fingers. Because coutil is quite stiff, and tightly woven, sometimes getting pins through is hard, so I tend to get sore hands, and cuts. Thankfully, after 4 years of trying, I actually find corsets rather easy to put together (it's the boning channels in the seams that's difficult).
I realised the problem with my natural form era corset was that it flattened my chest rather than supported it. In other words, it functioned more like 18th century stays than a 19th century corset. So with the 1890s pattern I ensured I was supported rather than squashed.
Yes, that is a 2" waist reduction, but it was laced soooo tightly. I'd never wear it outside like that.
Unfortunately that shape reads more natural form to me than 1890s. There's something softer about the hip curve in the 1890s. I forgot this when I was drafting the pattern and so my hip just shoots out rather than curves out. Still, that shape is better than no shape, and the late 1890s was the time of hip pads, so I think I'm just being picky.
I pondered over what busk to use. The pattern in Salen has a straight one, but spoon busks were being used, and I'd already used one for my natural form era. I can't remember why I chose to use a straight one, but I did.
I also don't think the waistline of the corset matches my actual waistline. Also some of the panels waistline didn't match up. Corsetry experts will now be thinking that means the corset won't fit right, and true, laced tightly it did start digging in just underneath my ribs, a few cm above my natural waist. But here's the thing, I'm relatively straight up and down from bust to waist. And you can see from the pic above that the slight shift in waistline doesn't seem to create much of an issue, unless I lace it tightly which I never do.
At this point there was some gaping at the bust. I wrongly assumed that the corset just went too high, creating a cup shape more like a bra cup than a mid-bust corset curve. Unfortunately I was wrong, but stupidly didn't fix it before boning the seams. So the seam ripper came out. I took the bust in a little bit, but I lost a lot of the shape on my bust. Still not as flat as the natural form era...I honestly don't understand where my boobs go in corsets!
Something mildly annoying happened with this corset, and it's definitely a first. I only did 1 mock-up before cutting into the black coutil. It laced closed all the way in the back, but it fit. Hence I only had to take out the amount that would mean a lacing gap would be created. I took about half an inch from the sidemost panel, and one of the CB panels.
I don't know WTF I did but when I made it all up and tried it on the corset barely reached around my back. I had to go and re-cut the sidemost panel back to the original. The final corset is actually the same pattern I used for the first mock-up (with the waistline altered a few cm). I'm definitely getting better at scaling things up accurately.
Then came boning, on the seams, and usually in the back where it tends to wrinkle for me. I did toy with doing cording at the bust, since it was very popular at the time and that's what the original corset has, but I wasn't sure how that would affect the overall length since I hadn't factored in shrinkage for cording.
I bought special black and yellow lace, in an attempt to match the original, but I placed mine differently.
All in all this didn't take long, in fact I think it's the fastest corset I've ever made, and it was definitely the time saved from not doing multiple mock-ups. Perhaps I just got lucky this time, or perhaps I'm genuinely getting better at scaling things up to my size. Who knows. There was one minor problem in that I ran out of black bias binding for the bottom, and so for a few inches at the back, the black bias binding changes to the yellow I have on the top. Apparently if you don't bleed on your corset something else needs to go wrong.
I like the fit, and there's still some room to put some padding underneath the hips of the corset for that 1890s hourglass figure.
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?
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.
This ensemble really emphasises the historically inspired rather than historically accurate tagline of my recent costuming experiences. It was also one of those outfits that came together rather quickly for once. I felt like I was doing a lot of other things whilst chipping away at this gown that it kind of flew under the radar a wee bit. But, it's finished-ish (sans bodice fastenings).
In my post about my sewing plans for 2019 I said I wanted to make an 1890s gown similar to the one Dakota Fanning wears in The (awful) Alienist TV series. Obviously it is quite 1890s, but I'm still undecided as to how accurate it is. The sleeveless-ness is definitely more late 90s than any other time, edging towards Edwardian and early 1900s with the S-bend corsets.
I'm not ready to try and tackle an S-bend corset, so I tried to keep mine firmly in the 1890s (with limited success). First was, obviously, an 1890s corset, which has to be my best corset so far. I already had a suitable petticoat, the one I used for my natural form era ensemble. Then it was onto outer wear. I know, that was fast!
I'm obviously just wearing one petticoat (because I'm lazy and another probably wouldn't fit under it due to the snugness of the skirt). My hair didn't cooperate with me, hence the flat looking attempt at a gibson girl hairstyle.
Massive fart, anyone? If you came here for serious, you came to the wrong place....
For the hawk-eyed out there you can see the white petticoat peeking out from underneath the opening because the skirt is a wee bit snug (and doesn't have a placket).
I'm even starting to make videos now (that I've figured out how to use my camera properly....).
The making of....
I scoured my books, and I was incredibly picky. I ended up settling on the 1890s gown in Waugh's Cut of Women's clothes. I can't find a picture of it online so you'll have to use your imagination. I only used the skirt pattern from this as I re-used my natural form era evening bodice pattern, with some design tweaks. That pattern is proving very versatile, this is the 2nd time I've altered it for a different era/project.
Let's talk about fabric. I originally wanted to make this out of silk satin (I know, don't know what I was thinking), but I didn't want to spend a lot of money, so I did the unthinkable....I bought polyester!! Not my first foray into poly fabrics for historical garments, but at least this time it wasn't because I thought I'd cock up. I got a really nice polyester Italian Duchess Satin, and honestly, I think it looks great. Very similar to my £50p/m real duchess silk satin, and it cost me about £11p/m. So it is higher end than the awful £5p/m you get in most fabric stores. My colour of choice was berry/plum/wine, don't really know what you call it. I just really wanted a purple gown.
I began with the skirt, and I had quite a bit of trouble scaling it up. The original pattern has 6 panels, CF (cut on the fold), side, side back, and centre back (which is very thin and gathered to a mere 3/4"). The original waistband is 22", if I remember correctly. Let's just say my waist is no where near that, and is very much bigger, so I did the usual of adding a few inches to each panel.
I actually made a full mock-up of this in horrible satinised polyester (I didn't realise what it was when I ordered it online, but I've learned my lesson). It has all way stretch. It fit, with a few tweaks here and there, so I began to cut out the panels in the satin and cotton interlining.
Skirts in the 19th century, particularly the Victorian era, were flatlined with another fabric to stabilise them and give them a particular shape. This was especially important in the latter half of the century. In the 1890s the panels are flatlined, and the hem is also stabilised with stiff braid, or something similar.
I hand basted the cotton to the satin, and it took ages. I usually use the machine, but I always get wrinkles. I decided to try the hand basting, and ended up with smooth skirt panels....crap/yay. Then i quickly constructed it and tried it on. The original pattern has 4 darts on the side panels, 2 on each side. They are angled more towards the back, but the way I'd scaled mine up they landed smack on the sides, and it made everything look weird. The shape of the skirt was all wrong.
Granted, the hem wasn't stabilised, and I didn't have my petticoat on underneath (I know, my brain decided it was going to leave for an afternoon), but that does not look 1890s to me. So I left it for a day or two, and in that time I realised that a) I hadn't worn my petticoat underneath, and b.) the shape needed changed. The only thing I loved about it was the train at the back (because I love trains on everything!).
The easiest way to do that was to remove the darts in the side panels. In reality I possibly could have just used the original pattern and it would've fit, but I had a completely cut out skirt sewn together, so the smaller the alteration the better. The other bad thing was that rather than a CB closure like in the original I'd decided to opt for side back opening, on the panel I needed to alter.
I would've just pleated down the excess if it wasn't for the opening being there. Instead I had to get the seam-ripper out (a rare occurrence because I'm that lazy) in what turned out to be a ripper-happy week (see post on my 1890s corset) and unpick the seam between the side panels and the side back panels. I think I removed 2" from it (the darts were about 1" each), and then re-stitched it. It was still a bit big, but this time I just took in the SF seams about 1/2" and it was all fixed.
Much better with the addition of a petticoat underneath and the excess at the waist taken away. Now happy with the shape I set to making a waistband.
The last thing was to stabilise the hem. I had bought horsehair braid/crin tape in a sale and learned how to insert that, then I pondered over the hem facing. This is just a strip of fabric that is attached to the hem and then folded in to the wrong side, and is exactly like the crin tape. Was it overkill to use both? And if it wasn't then what should the facing be of?
I didn't fancy cutting bias strips (because it's a circular hem it should be bias strips you use as facing) of the remnants of the cotton I'd used to flatline because I was saving that for the bodice, which left me with cutting into the remnants of the cotton organdy I had left over from another project, or the weird glazed/waxed cotton I used to interline my 1660s skirt with surprising success.
I opted for none of the above because why waste that fabric when the crin tape should serve the same purpose? I suppose we'll never know what would've happened if I'd used both.
Then onto the bodice. As I said before I used my natural form era evening bodice pattern because I knew it fitted and it was very similar to the 1890s bodice in Hunnisett. Obviously, by the 1890s off the shoulder evening bodices aren't really in fashion anymore, so I had to altar where the straps were.
Instead of a CF or CB opening, I decided to to a SF opening. This was because I wanted a weird gathered bodice front. It was inevitable I was going to get wrinkles in the satin on the bodice, so I just decided to steer into the skid. By the late 1890s and into the Edwardian era, bodice closures began to get quite complicated in that they didn't have to be hooks and eyes or ties up the CB or CF.
I kind of wish I hadn't chosen this design because I did not execute it properly. You can see the tiny prick stitches I used to secure all of the pleats on the gathered bodice front. My sash of black organza was also a last minute addition, but I actually really like it, and it hid a lot of the awful pleats.
The neckline was meant to be square, but you can see that didn't quite work out...I'd already finished the neckline by the time I realised it was wonky and was losing steam quite quickly with the whole project so just decided to leave it.
The skirt is also a bit too snug and just closes. It is in desperate need of a placket. If I ever intend to wear this to an event then I'll add one (and actual fastenings to the bodice, it had to be pinned closed shut for the photos). I think the arm scyes are also too high up, I think I forgot to trim it down before finishing the edge. Oh well.
Overall I like it, and I don't. I feel this is happening a lot with things I make recently. I like them, but then my laziness just stops them from being exactly what I pictured in my head. At least this one is a lot more structurally sound than my 1660s gown...
