Kategorie: Projects

As already mentioned in my last CADD-post, I started sewing on a lingerie dress made from umpteen metres of ivory batiste and my wedding cape veil.

You have seen me working on my underwear (Pattern Truly Victorian TVE02), only mentioning the petticoat (Truly Victorian TV170, View 4) in the passing. Here it is, worn. This outfit is more or less a „three cheers to the sewing machine gods“, as it heavily depended on two feet. One: my 4 mm rolled hem foot, that already came with my Pfaff. My wife just had bought a ruffler foot for our Bernina and I would have been so lost without that one.

The upper part of the petticoat has a seam length of about 2,5 metres, that‘s feasible. The flounce has a seam length of a little more than 5,5 metres. Sewing the tucks was a lot of work and just ruffling it up automatically made me dance for joy. The true test of my patience would have been the bottom ruffle though. The fabric strip was 11,2 metres long, hemming it was… taking long. Ruffling it together to the 5,5 metres was also taking long, but when I imagined doing all that the old-fashioned way? It took waaaaay shorter.

The skirt itself (Originally Truly Victorian TV 247 with an added back panel to Frankenstein it into a fantail) had the optimum length to go over the petticoat when hemmed with my rolled hem foot.

The blouse again was a Frankensteined project, I used Black Snail Patterns #0314, the 1890ies shirtwaist as I had used it before to make up something Edwardian-ish and I knew it would make an acceptable pigeon breast. As the pattern is front-closing I had to use it backwards, meaning I cut the front in one piece instead of two and split the back up to be able to add a button panel. That, as strange as it sounds, was the easy part. Now came adding the yoke from my cape veil and then carefully cutting away the batiste under it. All done by hand… It took me all of three days, but the finished blouse is well worth it.

Add a dip-waist belt made from the pattern in Izabela Pitchers‘ Victorian dressmaker and voilà, there we are.

The hat is the same as for the bicycling costume, only dressed up differently, the gloves are vintage, the parasol is an astonishingly well kept original, the cover needed only minor repairs.

I barely blogged about the making of these clothes, they were a part of the pre-CoCo sewing frenzy.

Actually, it all started with the boots. The American Duchess “Cambridge” boots cried “STEAMPUNK” so loudly I simply had to have them for our planned steampunk outfit.

As they were described as bicycling boots, I ventured closer into having a look at bicycling fashion at the turn of the century, found the Bikes and Bloomers project and then stumbled into just the perfect black, white and blue houndstooth fabric at our local fabric store. On the next visit to our usual Stuttgart hunting ground I found a perfectly matching deep teal wool for a matching coat.

And there we went. Bicycle Bloomers (Black Snail Patterns #0216) in blue and a sports blouse (Black Snail Patterns #0614) in a wonderful thin white cotton with thin blue and black pinstripes came first, then the waistcoat (Reconstructing History RH942), made from the houndstooth. In the next step I made up the button-up skirt following a self-drafted pattern based on the Bikes and Bloomers pdf and a necktie.

Costume College, where I wore the outfit first, proved that my guesstimate of the necessary length of button-up-strip was off by at least ten centimetres. Back home again I swapped it for a newly made one, and now the length was fine. At Costume College I had a workshop with Shelly Jackson from the Clockwork Monster where I sewed up a boater hat with a houndstooth hatband, meant to go with the costume.

This photo was made during the first outing at home.

And here you see the skirt in action ad Bad Nauheim.

We spent the weekend before last at Hohentübingen Castle, taking part in a fantastic living history display reaching from the stone age to the 18th century. After talking to some of the other reenactors, we felt honored to be invited along all those very professionally researched displays.

I premiered the Pet en Polonaise while showing the craft of a milliner and it nicely stood up to the damp heat, although the weather inspired me to sew up a Chemise a la Reine for truly hot weather. Admittedly, I won‘t be able to start with it after Costume College, still I‘m looking fortward to it.

Sommer pictures showing the Pet en Polonaise in combination with the black silk taffeta apron symbolizing „l am working“, which I did during most of the weekend. I started on Saturday with a completely undecorated Bergère and managed to sew the petersham ribbon to the brim as well as adding a ribbon for shaping the crown and binding it under my braided bun. The ribbon flowers will have to wait for now as I went into Speed Seewing again.

Seems to bekomme sort of a habit. „I have two weeks until I need a finished 1860ies outfit“. Luckily I already have a suitable corset.

To complicate things further, though, the weather was not particularly willing to play along. After the weekend I was absolutely sure Summer had come to stay, but nay, it didn’t. So, after having half-sewn my sheer dress, I had to switch to my wool-silk-combination planned for cooler temperatures and Charles Dickens Christmas fair.

Theory and construction

You already had a glimpse into my Victorian bathing costume made of mint-green worsted suiting. The idea was born the moment I knew we‘d be going to California, to Costume College. Sunshine, beach, a pool, costumes? Victorian Bathing Costume for sure. Easy for day-wear and probably sun-proof enough for my all too white skin.

Originally I had thought about using fine wool muslin in blue from one of my fabric suppliers, Tuch und Stoff, specializing in reenactment fabrics. When I accidentally found the discounted suiting, I switched plans and classical navy blue with white would change to peppermint-green with strawberry sorbet.

I browsed around to find an extant sample or a fashion plate that suited my liking and found a rather unusual one. This fashion plate appeared in the August 1870 issue of Peterson‘s Magazine.

„Fig. X. – Bathing-Costume of White Flannel. – Trousers fastened at the knee by a cross strip braided with a Grecian pattern in black wool. Peplum blouse, with short sleeves, with a braided Grecian pattern, buttoned on each side and on the shoulders.“

When I had decided on the looks, I was happy to see that there was a published pattern which would permit me to simply sew the bathing costume up. Unfortunately I quickly realized that the pattern didn‘t really fit the description as they talked of an „detachable overskirt“.

For me that meant back to square one, deciding I‘d make up the pattern by myself. As for the knee-length trousers it wasn‘t all that difficult, I took the pattern of my drawers, sewed them up as loose, knee-length trousers and gathered the wide legs at the knee.

As for the top, I delved somewhat deeper into history, Grecian-style they called it and indeed I could see a number of motives from the peplos, worn by ladies in antique Greece.

One point is „closed with buttons at the shoulders“ – the original peplos would have been closed with fibulae, special brooches used for pinning clothes together.

The blousing at the waist would originally have been achieved with a belt, in my rendering I probably will opt for a drawstring, though I haven‘t fully decided on it yet.

During classical times the upper part of the peplos often would be worn turned over. The belt could have been worn under this so called apoptygma as in the marble from Olympia you see to the right, or above it as in the marble above, which would lead to pretty much the look of the peplum in the fashion plate.

The main features of the blouse decided upon, I started sewing it up from fabric rectangles, two almost squarish-ones for the upper body part, two slender rectangles for the sleeves, two wide-ish ones for the peplum to achieve the look of the wide peplos gathered at the waist and then falling open.

I will provide details on looks and further construction as well as more pictures in a second blog post as soon as I‘m done.

Weather here in southern Germany can be interesting in April/May, so the blue woolen dress might be just a tad too warm for the living history day. Ever since I encountered this little jacket

I wanted to make one like it, a sacque back with a Polonaise style front. I had a piece of floral printed linen in subdued colors, with a block small enough to fit a wood block and a light background. Maybe a bit busy, but not completely out of range. The subdued colors, although not really period, could be attributed to the fabric being linen and linen being problematic to dye light fast before aniline dyes were invented. I found the perfect silk charmeuse to go with it, a wonderful shade of nougat, and went to work.

Here is the finished ensemble:

A wonderfully light, easy ensemble to wear when it‘s hot and not too formal.

The brown band is a grosgrain I bought at my favorite haberdashery in Stuttgart, a small shop that mainly caters to professional tailors and has all the wonderful stuff you need to do true couture or old fashioned mantua making.

Every now and then it happens to me, that case of CADD (costume attention deficit disorder), especially when I have so many gorgeous plans and all the fabric for it.

Discipline requires me to finish a linen 1760ies ensemble to have something to wear for Tübingen if the temperature rises above 15 degrees Celsius. I made great progress with the nougat-colored silk charmeuse petticoat that only needs hemming and started on a casaquin from a length of printed linen.

The CADD actually started when I went shopping for some simple brown ribbons to finish the charmeuse petticoat. Our local sewing-machine and fabric store had a table with coupons. Of course we‘d browse them, after all one never knows what one might find and… find we did. In my case a wonderfully super thin mint-colored worsted fabric that screamed Victorian Bathing Costume so loudly that I couldn‘t resist, above all as the price was incredibly low due to a slight discoloring along the fold. Can you imagine my happiness when I found the bolt and realized that the discoloring went all the way through? I finally returned home with some 7,5 meters of mint-colored worsted fabric for 12 euros per meter.

When you think about mid-18th century ladies‘ clothing, what immediately comes to mind is silks in pastels and bright colors. There‘s one piece of clothing that appears in a variety of portraits and advertisements and is dark. We‘re talking about a black apron.

Some samples can be found here:

Thomas and Elizabeth Sandby, c.1760

Mrs. Bentley, c.1775

and the probably most famous:

Archduchess Maria Christina of Austria, c.1765

Such a black apron was considered workwear, in the case of black silk taffeta we‘re talking about the workwear of noble women whose „work“ consisted of needlework for pleasure, painting or gardening.

Still, a black silk apron is very helpful for the professional needleworker as well. The dark background is kind on the eyes when working with light colored or sheer fabrics. The taffeta makes it easy to brush away all those snippets of thread and keeps the dress itself clean. We‘re definitely talking a must-have for a milliner as Madame Juliette. I modeled mine on the archduchess as I didn‘t manage to find any portraits closer to home.

I promised it long enough. Here it finally comes, the big reveal. Madame Juliettes blue woolen Italian Gown, dressed up with an apron, a fichu and a cap, all made from super-thin silk voile with antique lace.

The gown fabric is a thin blue worsted fabric, made interesting in the fact that warp as well as weft are alternating between midnight blue and Prussian blue threads. (It might be a dobby fabric, and those weren’t around in 1770, but shhhhh, we don’t tell anyone). Here you see the gown before hemming, just before we would chalk in the hemming line. There‘s enough blue fabric left to turn it into a petticoat.

The petticoat – not so easy to see – is a fantastic worsted damask with little sprigs of flowers strewn all over. Lucky me, I have enough left to make a nice casaquin and a cream stomacher for the dress as well.

I had planned for the dress to be worn retroussée. Here we are experimenting with ribbon lengths and positioning and I must admit I like what I see. Now for the finishing touches and the dress can be worn.

Depending on the weather it might premiere at the „Tag der lebendigen Geschichte“ in Tübingen, the day of living history where a number of different groups present history from the early Bronze Age to the late 18th century.