A gown for lounging and mornings

The event I finally made my gold/black dress for was a couple of days. And late nights and early evenings call for a more relaxed type of dress. One I did not have in my closet, as most of my events are just the outside day affairs or balls.

I finished my gold ensemble (at least to the point of being wearable) a week before I had to leave. So of course, I decided I probably could made a morning gown in that time, right?

What helped was that I already had the fabric, the pattern and the plan.

A couple of months ago, a friend decided some fabric from Fabriclore, an Indian fabric shop, selling a wide range of beautiful fabrics. I joined in with that order, and got a couple of beautiful cotton prints, including one I knew I wanted to use for a morning/tea gown.

It’s a light cream crinkled cotton with a distinct texture. It’s very drapey, not quite sheer but near to it, and it has a beautiful hand-block print of little blue and green flowers on it. Morning gowns are often quite full and flowy, without the normal Victorian structure, so I knew it’d be perfect for that.

Pattern wise, I had seen Cynthia from Redthreaded adapt this Wearing History pattern for a morning jacket into a full dress. She has a video about that process here. I was lucky enough that the original pattern (which only comes in the one, original, size) was pretty much my size, so I knew I wouldn’t have to do too much to make it fit me. And Cynthia’s method of lengthening the jacket worked so beautifully, that I knew this would be the perfect solution to getting a dress instead of a jacket out of an existing pattern.

The pattern is late 1890’s, and I particularly love the back design with the pleats which are a historicism echoing 18th century Watteau pleats. You see this a lot in the 1890’s, and in informal gowns in particular. This dress is also unfitted at the front, with just a belt, which is perfect if you want to wear this both with and without a corset. Although some of these dresses are completely unfitted at the waist, I do appreciate the belt to ‘break’ the silhouette a little bit. Below is a beautiful period example showing the typical types of pleats in the back:

Dressing gown1880–90, MET Museum

I made very few pictures of the process of making this, as I was on a tight deadline and Cynthia already has a video about how she made it. I chose to line the top (basically the original jacket part) with a plain white cotton. I also followed her method of gathering the bottom front and stitching it down a little lower, to create a tiny little ruffle. For the back, I chose pleats instead of the gathering shown on the pattern envelope, to make it look more like the extant dresses with pleats that I like so much. The pleats are stitched down to the lining to help them stay in the back a bit.

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The skirt of the dress is not lined, to help with the flowy-ness. As the fabric is a little sheer, I did wear it with a petticoat underneath. This helps give some volume without weighing down the actual skirt of the dress.

I didn’t have time for trim, which I still might add later on, but for now I was really happy to finish it on time. I even opted to machine-sew the button holes, because although I like hand-sewn ones, I just didn’t have the time. Sometimes it’s good to allow yourself shortcuts if you know it’ll save you on stress and sleep while finishing something on time. And I’m really happy I managed to get this done in time to wear it, as I got a lot of use out of it as both an easy gown for breakfast and one for some relaxing after the dancing had finished in the evening. It was a wonderful lounging garment at a wonderful event!

A picture on the last morning, by Timelight Photographic:

And two more with my own camera, to show the back:

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Paisley silk brocade?

The 1880s gold bustle gown is made out of a silk brocade fabric with a paisley motif. I loved this fabric as soon as I saw it, because of the color and how it catches the light, but also as this motif is actually quite fitting to the era the dress is from. There is a lot of history behind it, and although appropriate to late Victorian western European dress, the origins of it lie somewhere else. So in this post, some information about it!

First: what is a paisley motif? Basically, it’s a tear-shaped form with usually a little curl at the end and curve to it, often with intricate floral like detailing in the center.

The motif is actually very old, and originates in Iran, where it is called ‘buteh’ (which in Persian can mean bush, thicket, bramble and herb). We don’t know exactly how old it is, but it can already be found in the Iranian Sassanian period (224-651 AD).

Silk Twill with Sassanian royal device (senmurv)
7-8th century CE, Victoria & Albert Museum, London

A couple of centuries later, the motif has spread and can be found in various other regions such as Afghanistan and Egypt. The motif slowly starts to develop the typical curve on the point which we associate with paisley today. The fragment below is from a city in Egypt which was under Sassanian control, at the end of the silk road of the time. It shows how far it was already spreading.

Silk fabric discovered Akhmim, Egypt and dated to 7-8th cent. CE
Lyon, musée historique des tissues Soieries Sassanides,
Coptes et Byzantines V – XI siècles by Marielle Martiniani-Reber

Between the 15th and 18th century, the shape also moved towards Mughal India (c. 1526-1857), taking a prominent place there. Specifically, it became a popular motif on the (goat) wool Kashmir shawls woven in the north of India. These were treasured art pieces.

17th century Kashmir shawl fragment

It was via these kashmir shawls that the buteh motif was introduced to Europe. These fine quality shawls started as a trade item, but became an enormous hit. Their popularity really took off around the same time that the Empire fashion with thin fabrics and high waists became popular. Shawls were the perfect accessory for these light dresses.

Shawl of pashmina wool (Kashmir goat hair). ca 1780, V&A

With this rise in popularity came the production of imitation kashmir shawls for the European market. Although they didn’t reach the craftmanship of the originals, there was such a demand that cheaper copies did very well. One of the most prominent places for the creation of these shawls was the Scottish town Paisley. There were other places in which shawls with buteh motifs were reproduced, but the name ‘paisley’ became synonymous with the shape in the English language.

Woven silk shawl made in Paisley, ca. 1843-1847 (made) V&A

During the 19th century, these ‘paisley’ shawls remained a very fashionable item for decades. A part of the appeal of them was the general interest in the ‘unchanging, mystic east’, which they became to represent. Orientalism, and the taste for the ‘exotic’ remained very important in 19th century western Europe. Of course, this ‘mystic and unchanging’ was a European fantasy which doesn’t do justice to the local industries and the way kashmir shawls also adapted to fashion over time. With the powers of colonialism and European improvements in weaving (and, therefore, a reduced demand for the ‘real’ Indian thing), the Indian kashmir industry eventually fell apart. In the late 19th century, the paisley you see in western-European dress is mostly produced in Europe itself.

In the Netherlands, the most common version was a bit heavier and thicker than the French and English versions, and was called ‘carrot cloth’, probably because of the color? They were used as square shawls, but also to make dresses from.

ca 1890 dress, Kunstmuseum Den Haag

Due to its prominence in the 19th century, the paisley motif also appeared in many different types of regional dress, mostly through printed cottons which featured it. This happened in the Netherlands, but also for instance in France, Sweden or Romania.

Girl from Marken, showing the paisley motif on her sleeve.

In the 20th century, you see that the hippie movement revives the 19th century orientalism, and starts to incorporate middle-eastern garments and elements. Again, a feeling for the context and origin is usually missing, but it does revive an interest in non-European styles of dress. In the future, hopefully this interest will continue and expand, this time without the generalizations and colonialist views, and deepen the understanding of fashion as a truly global phenomenon, of which I think the buteh is a key example.

1970’s American advertisement featuring paisley motifs on a blouse.

If you want to learn more, I strongly recommend checking out the articles linked to below! I especially love the online TRC Exhibition ‘from buteh to paisley’, which has a lot of information and beautiful items from their collection. If you check out their instagram, you can also find the replay of a live tour they did through the physical version a little while ago!

Sources:

https://rangriwaaz.com/blogs/saree-draping-tips-by-rangriwaaz/boteh-the-journey-from-persia-to-paisley

http://www.heritageinstitute.com/zoroastrianism/trade/paisley.htm

https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20151021-paisley-behind-rocks-favourite-fashion

https://trc-leiden.nl/trc-digital-exhibition/index.php/from-buteh-to-paisley/item/262-cover-page

http://www.textileasart.com/exc_kash.htm

1880s Gold Bustle dress – All done!

In my two previous posts, I shared the progress of making an 1880’s gold/black bustle dress.

I’ve had the gold fabric for this dress for a while. The occasion to finally make this was a private anniversary in the U.K. to which I was graciously invited. There were a couple of days, all in the ‘Victorian bustle’ theme, so it was the perfect reason to make a new garment. The event was lovely, and I really loved wearing this new dress. As always, I have some small things I want to fix already (mostly necklines which wanted to gap open a little), but overall I’m really happy with how it turned out. This fabric was a joy to work with and wear.

Thanks to Serena and Melchior for taking some pictures for me!

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It was originally inspired by this dress from the MET:

MET museum Evening dressca. 1880 Wechsler & Abraham 

I changed the underskirt to better suit my taste and fabric stash, inspired by the design of this dress:

NGV. Day dress (c. 1883) ENGLAND Medium silk, cotton lace, metal Accession Number 1411.a-b-D5

And I added a ballgown bodice based mostly on this existent one;

“Evening dress, 1886-87. Philadelphia Museum of Art.”

1880s Gold Bustle dress – Bodices

With the skirt post done, it’s time to move to the bodices of the gold 1880s dress! I started the evening bodice after making the train base, and worked on the skirt/bodice interchangeably. I also planned the ball bodice at that time, but as this project had a deadline, I did finish the full evening version of this outfit first before starting on the ball version. In the end, I had enough time to finish both!

I used the Truly Victorian TV462 tail bodice as my base. Interestingly, the current cover of this bodice includes a keyhole neckline exactly like my target dress, but my pattern doesn’t have that image on the front, and neither does it have the keyhole on the pattern. It might be that I have an older version, but it meant I ended up drawing the neckline on me by myself. I also changed the back, removing the pleats. As TV patterns tend to fit me reasonably well, I made the mock-up out of the black cotton I also planned to use for the lining. After fitting, I cut the silk, flatlined all the pieces, and did the main construction aside from darts and side seams. The darts I did while fitting another time. The side seams I waited with until after I finished the bottom. This way, it’s easier to let out in the future if I want to, a theatre trick I learned from one of Redthreaded’s videos.

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I marked the keyhole neckline first when fitting, and then used a silk facing piece in the exact shape. This was sewn on right sides together, the neckline was cut out (this was scary!), the facing flipped to the wrong side and stitched down. I have no clue if this is a period way to do it, but it worked for me. I decided on a facing rather than bias tape because of the sharp corner, and I like how that turned out.

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The next step was finishing the bottom! I made my own piping by stitching a cord into a bias strip, and sewed this to the bottom fronts and back. After this was done, I could finally finish the side seam. It was a bit odd for me to use this order of sewing, as I’m so used to construction first, finishing edges second, but I do like the size flexibility it gives! The next step after this was to add the collar, and finish the neckline like that.

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The original garment has a lot of self-fabric covered buttons, and I decided I wanted the smallest ones possible. Of course, this meant covering a lot of little buttons, which was fiddly at best… The official mold for these self-covered buttons didn’t work too well with this small size (I’ve used it for larger versions without problem). So I ended up running a gathering thread (by hand) around the edge of the fabric to pull it in tight around the button that way. I do really like the look of the finished buttons!

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The final steps were button holes (sewn by hand, as I do really prefer that look), and to sew on the pearl trim. I decided to go with a plastic, pre-made pearl string. The original has very tiny pearls, and given the deadline I decided to not find individual pearl beads and string them. You can see the difference up really close, but I called this a ‘good enough’. I can always go and change the trim later if it does bother me in the future.

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And then it was time for the ballgown bodice! I designed this in photoshop based on some originals. My main concerns were: have some black; but the black should be removable if I ever want to wear this with a different underskirt. I ended up deciding to do a ruched black panel on top of a gold base. If I really want to change it up, I need to unpick some trim, but not deconstruct the entire thing.

For the pattern, I went with the adapted version of the evening bodice. As I tend to make any adaptations directly on my mock-up, I just traced pattern pieces from the bodice directly. Then I could cut the flatlining (white cotton) and silk fabric! Again, I fitted it again after flatlining and basic construction, and pinned the darts directly on the body.

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With the base done (I finished the neckline with bias tape), I could create the draped pieces. I did delay the center front and shoulder seams, as I wanted to make the trim disappear inside them. In the end, this didn’t actually work for the center front, as the ruched piece will go on top. I cut the basic shape for the draping out of cotton first, and then experimented with increasing the width to get the gathers. I cut two pieces of this, and draped it on the bodice, pinning it down in strategic places to get the folds to lay nicely.

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For the black ruched piece, I followed a similar strategy, cutting it out of cotton first, widening it so it could be gathered up, and then cutting and gathering the black silk. This panel was finished by turning in all the edges, and stitched on top of the bodice beneath the gathered pieces. (I made the gathered pieces first to determine the size of the black panel, but I did stitch on the black panel first, as it goes below the other one)

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To finish the bodice, I hand sewed eyelets around boning in the center back, and I finished the bottom with piping. There are a couple of boning pieces inside, the most important one which is in the front, as it keeps the center front point from flipping up. I also added very small gold sleeves (which I didn’t take pictures of…)

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And then it was time for final touches, the bows! I found a tutorial for fabric bows here. Basically, you create one long ribbon strip, and loop this to get a bow with two loops on either side and tails. I ended up using a bit of organza ribbon to go around the bow and tie it together. I originally planned on just having bows on the sleeve heads, but I also added one to the bottom of the gathered pieces, and I am really happy with how that looked!

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And then the whole ensemble was finished, with an evening version with long sleeves and train, and a ball version with short sleeves and train bustled up! Some pictures of the final ensemble on me and about the event will follow in a future post!

1880s Evening gown – Skirts

And then suddenly over 2 months have passed without a post!

I the meantime I have been working on the gold 1880s dress project that I talked about last time. In fact, I’ve now finished it, so time for some catching up. In this post, about the skirts!

I started this project with the train. Not because that made most sense per se, but because I knew it’d take the most fabric, and I wanted to make sure how much I’d have left.

I used the TV Butterfly Train pattern, in the shorter version. I cut the fabric on my living room floor, as it’s the biggest in the house and actually allowed me to lay out the pattern fully. I chose to slightly piece it to save on fabric. With the pleating in the train, it will be nearly impossible to spot when it is worn anyway.

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Cutting on the floor (spot the cut lines!) and piecing in the corner

I cut the silk, and seamed all the pieces together. Then I did the same thing with the lining. I chose to line it out of plain black cotton. While black isn’t the most historical lining fabric, I knew I’d wear this with a black underskirt and I wanted it to be the same in case the train flips over and you see the inside. It’s a bit less conspicuous this way.

Construction was extremely simple. It’s bag lined, so lining and silk sewn right sides together and flipped inside out. Then the two sides were pleated up, and the top left and top right part were attached to the waistband. The top center is finished by turning the edges in, and then it is pleated up from the center and attached to the center of the waistband. This creates the ‘butterfly’ effect like poof that the train is named after.

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Laying the silk on the cotton lining to pin it in place for the bag lining & a top view of the pleats attached to the little waistband piece.

The train has its own waistband which hooks unto the overskirt (as that needs to close center back, so under the train). I also tried out some methods to bustle up the train, as I also want to be able to dance in this dress. Eventually, I settled on attaching one ribbon center back, with two button holes. There are buttons lower on the train to button it up. Then on the sides, I attached ties, as well as a bit further down towards the center. These tie to each-other to bring up the sides. It shows a little bit of the black lining when bustled up, but I don’t really find that bothersome as the underskirt is the same color.

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Trying out how to bustle up the train with the lining fabric only & the train waistband which hooks onto the overskirt waistband in the back.

The front overskirt is of the same gold, and I patterned myself with a little help from examples in Izabella Prior’s the Victorian Dressmaker books. I mocked it up from a sheet, and basically played around with pleats and length until I got the look that I wanted. It’s a basic rectangle type shape which is pleated up the sides. I ended up pulling the bottom side points of the rectangle over the back of the bustle and attaching a hook to keep them in place there. This makes sure that the overskirt has the feeling of volume and pleats without hanging down too low. The overskirt is attached to a black waistband ribbon, closing center back, with eyes to hook the train over. The back looks a little funny on its own (and I have no clue if it resembles period patterns), but with the train on top it looks like I meant to!

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Patterning the overskirt out of an old sheet – the handstitched hem – the sides are pleated up and sewn down by machine (they won’t be visible), attachment to the twill tape waistband – the finished overskirt from the front – the finished overskirt in the back, this is covered by the train.

Then, finally, there was the black underskirt. The base was really quick to make, using the TV1880’s underskirt pattern, but of course adding a pocket. It’s made out of black twill cotton, as I wanted a solid base. Base, because the skirt is almost entirely covered in trim! I ended up taking inspiration from an other original 1880s dress, and settled on one row of knife pleats, two rows of stacked box pleats and a large ruched panel.

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To try out the design, I copied the underskirt of the original dress I liked and pasted it on top of my picture, painting it black. Then I could measure the height of the pleats and the ruching.

The pleats took a little time to make and prepare, and various calculations were done and re-done to ensure I had enough silk (I’m still not sure I did it right, but I had enough fabric, so it’s okay). The pleats were all hand pleated, pinned in place, sprayed with a vinegar/water mix to set the pleats, steamed, and taped in place with painter’s tape. This last step ensures that the pleats can fully dry and won’t be distorted when handling them later. The ruched panel is one large piece with gathering stitches running horizontally. I ended up not giving my piece a lot of extra length, so the ‘poofs’ aren’t quite as poofy as in the example, but I actually quite like this slightly flatter look. The entire panel was then stitched on the skirt, together with the pleats. Only after doing this, did I finish the side-seam, so I could include the ruched panel in the seam. It took some fiddling to then make the pleats match over the seam, and if you look closely you can see that the pleats aren’t quite the same there. It’s not noticeable if you don’t look closely though, so I really don’t mind.

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Pleating the knife pleats, stitching down the stacked box pleats, and gathering the ruched panel on the base skirt. This is why I didn’t sew the final seam yet, makes it a lot easier to lay it out flat!

And that completes the whole lower part of the outfit! I’m really happy with how luxurious the gold and black work together so far!

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An 1880s evening gown – inspiration & ideas

It’s been a bit quiet on the blog, as I haven’t had many new projects to share. However, I did start my next big project, so I figured I’d do a bit of an introduction to that!

This autumn I hope to have a bustle-event, and although I do already have a number of gowns from that period, I figured it’s also be the perfect opportunity to make something new.

The dress below has been a favourite of mine for years. I initially mostly fell for the bodice neckline.

MET museum, Evening dress ca 1880

And then I saw pictures of the back, and fell for the train

MET museum, Evening dress ca 1880

At some point, I found some beautiful gold brocade fabric that instantly reminded me of this dress. It’s a little cooler in tone and the pattern is different, but it works perfectly for the style and the era, and it’s really lovely. I bought this a couple of years ago, with this design in mind for ‘sometime’.

When looking at the original dress more, I realized I really only liked the golden parts of this dress. The lilac underskirt just isn’t my favourite. I’m not a big fan of the color when combined with the gold, I’m generally not a fan of asymmetry, and I don’t like the very large pleats on the skirt.

So I figured I wanted to recreate this one day, but with a different underskirt. I initially was thinking about green.

When this event came up I decided it’d be the perfect time to start this dress! Only I didn’t really have a green silk that would work, and finding affordable taffeta here is quite a challenge. I dug around a bit in my stash, and realized that although I didn’t have green, I did have black. So I played around in photoshop, thought on it for a bit, and decided I liked the idea. So black it will be!

One of my main inspirations for the trim on the underskirt is this dress:

Day Dress NGV, ca 1880

I’ll try to do a combination of stacked pleats and gathers, a bit smaller and finer than in the MET dress. I still need to figure out the exact lay-out. I’ve already made the base of the underskirt, out of black cotton. The silk pleating will cover it, but only for the visible areas. It’s not necessary to go all the way to the top for instance, as that part won’t show.

I’ve also started work on both the train and the bodice. For the train I’m using the Truly Victorian Butterfly train pattern, which is very close to what the original looks like. It’s a little different, but it has all of the important things, namely a bustled up back and train bottom. I’ve played around with it, and it also works bustled up further, so I could do that for dancing.

I was a bit scared to run out of fabric, but so far it seems I’ll be fine. That’s good, as I also want to make a ballgown bodice! The original gown is for evening activities, but not really for dancing, given the long sleeves and high neck. I also want to wear this for dancing, with the train tied up, so I plan to make a second bodice.

My initial idea was something like this, with the black silk in the middle of the bodice. This was planned with the idea of saving on the gold fabric.

I might have enough for a full bodice from the silk though, and given the gold overskirt I might like that more, so I have to think about that a bit more. I might also see if I can use some black lace for the bodice, and I have some organza ribbons in gold and black which I’d like to use, perhaps for flowers?

These are the main ideas and inspirations! I’ve gotten most of the evening bodice done, the base of the train and the base of the overskirt, as well as the cotton underlayer of the underskirt. I’ll try to do some more posts on each of those when they’re fully finished.

Selina Blouse

Somewhere in March, Leimomi from Scroop Patterns sent out a call for pattern testers for her new pattern. The Selina blouse is a 1910’s style blouse.

As it happened, I had a length of blue cotton in my stash which was (once upon a time) meant for a 1910s style blouse for history bounding. I also had time to make it within the timescale for testers, so I signed up!

I’d been eyeing Scroop Patterns for a little while already, I just hadn’t had the occasion to try any out yet. I’ve also been reading Leimomi’s blog (https://thedreamstress.com/) for years, it was one of the things which got me into historical costuming. Plus, I met her when I was in NZ for work before pandemic times, and she’s a lovely person! All in all, I was really happy to be able to join in as a tester here, and work with one of her patterns.

As tester, we’re sent a first version of the pattern and instructions. Our first deadline was the mock-up stage, to report general fitting issues. For me, the fit was pretty good, but the peplum was too narrow. I have rather wide hips compared to my waist, so the peplum didn’t quite fit. Please note that this issue might be resolved in the final pattern! The main point of us testing was to figure out how the pattern worked on diverse body shapes.

A still from the little fitting video I took

Based on tester input, we then got sent some fitting/adjustment instructions and help, and I could get started on the actual blouse! I picked view A, with the false lapels and collar. In the actual blouse I ended up lengthening the sleeves just a little bit (I have wide shoulders for my size) and widening the peplum at the bottom for more hip flare.

The blouse itself sewed up very nicely. In general, I was very impressed with the instructions and the pictures, which made it very clear what to do. The blouse has a number of different types of seams, which can be finished in different ways, and the pattern gives you several options including historical notes. I folded some seams into themselves, and zigzagged others. I also chose to top-stitch whenever possible, in white, for a little bit of contrast.

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  Topstitching along the sleeve seam and collar

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  Top stitching along the buttons

For the buttons, I debated between using pearls or metal, both coming from my stash. In the end, I picked the metal ones, both because they’re a little bit more neutral with the blouse and the white top-stitching, and because I have more of the pearls than I’d need and those are good for other historical projects too.

For the pictures, I wore the blouse with my blue wool circle skirt. Because I’m wearing the skirt on top of an extra petticoat, the peplum was still a bit tight with all the skirts, and I decided to just tuck it in. This works quite well, although it is best with a belt as the waistline is just a smidge high, so to hide the waistline peeking above the skirt band. I’m mostly planning to wear this blouse in a history-bounding setting, but now I know that if I want to start an 1910’s outfit, I’ve already got one piece!

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A 1890s ladies vest

About a month ago I posted about my vest project, in which I’m making a 1890’s ladies vest from the leftover wool of my split skirt. That post finished with the mock-up done, and the pocket practiced. I had to wait a bit for my lining and back fabric to arrive, but after that I could finally get started on making this. I finished it last week, and wore it for a photoshoot this weekend!

Photographer: Martijn van Huffelen

I started the sewing with the basic construction of the back, which is a single layer of black cotton. This also means that the seams are finished nicely, as this bit won’t have lining. Basically, one edge of the seam allowance gets trimmed away, and the other edge is folded over and in, to hide the raw edge. Then it’s topstitched in place. In this picture I’m ironing it in place.

The fronts were where the main work lay. I interlined my wool to give it just a little bit of extra body. The pocket was made right after. A scary part, but it went well!

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Then there was the canvas structure layer, which was pad stitched to the wool/cotton layer, and tailor’s tape was attached in certain areas to avoid it stretching. I totally applied the tape first, and did the pad stitching after, which is not what you’re supposed to do. I’d luckily taken into account the turn of cloth when stitching on the tape, so I was fine. My pad stitching was a little unnecessary, but something I wanted to try out. I do better understand how it works now, so I call that success enough! I also completely forgot to take pictures here, of course. So here’s one after the facing was already in place, but showing a peek at the layers.

The canvas, tailors tape and pad stitching are what help shape the garment. When those were attached, I could stitch the fronts to the back, and do a final fitting to double check the size.

Fitting time, it looks good!

Then, there was attaching the facing (basically the part of the collar that you can see) and then finally the lining. Final step was to attach the buttons and sew the button holes. I debated closing it left over right, instead of the (modern) ‘normal’ for ladies garments right over left. In the end, I left it as on the pattern though. My buttons were ordered, I normally try to pick those out in person but of course shops were closed. I ended up ordering 4 different styles just to be able to check the color and size. Hopefully I’ll be able to use the other buttons some time in the future!

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Last weekend I got dressed up, as I had a photoshoot! The photographer I usually collaborate with contacted me, as we’re still allowed to meet 1 on 1 outside, so with the current measures such small shoots are pretty much the only costumy thing we can do. I wore the vest with my 1890s sports blouse, the split skirt, American Duchess Balmoral boots and an antique boater I bought this summer. I added a watch with a chain to the pocket. I really loved wearing this outfit, it makes you feel a little like a late 19th century explorer :).

I already got some pictures, which are really lovely. Thanks to Martijn van Huffelen for these:

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A last-minute bodice

I had predicted that this would be a year of more sudden changes in plans than normal, and so far that’s proving to be true. I’m still waiting on the fabric for my vest to arrive, and in the meantime I decided to make a day bodice to wear with my green 1890s skirt.

I’m participating as an extra in a Dutch show about history, and I was asked to wear my green ballgown with a cloak on top of it for an outside scene. I suspect they just chose that outfit because they wanted darker colors, but a ballgown in the middle of the day is a bit odd. It would be covered by a cloak, so in theory invisible, but then the weather turned, and the prediction for filming day was -2 degrees. Not the best weather to have bare arms.

I didn’t have any plans in the weekend before (because, you know, covid), so I decided I might as well try my hand at making a new bodice. I still had plenty of green and black silk left, so this could be done entirely from my stash. The bodice will have long sleeves, which I could even wear extra layers underneath as well. I had 3 full days for this, as well as a couple of evenings after work, so I wanted a design that wouldn’t take a lot of figuring out or trimming. In the end, I settled on this dress as inspiration:

It’s interesting without being overly complex, and as a bonus, the Victorian Dressmaker book actually has a pattern for this. Not to my size, but with the Truly Victorian pattern I’d used for my ballgown bodice as base and the rough shapes in the book, adapting became a lot easier. I still have some black velvet from my 1860s gown, so the velvet details were covered as well.

So I set to work! I didn’t make a lot of pictures, but after day 1 I had the main bodice drafted, cut out, sewn together and fitted! This seems like the most work, but as it’s nearly all machine work, it actually comes together relatively quickly. It also helped that I skipped the mock-up. I’d used this pattern for my ball gown, so I knew it fit, and pinning the darts on the body allows for last-minute adjustments.

Day 2 was for the sleeves. These are fairly complex because they have 7 pieces of fabric each. An organza, dupioni and cotton layer for the inner sleeves, and an organza, dupioni, tarlatan and cotton layer for the outer sleeve. The outer sleeve lining was fitted (with slight gathers) to the armhole first, then the tarlatan was pleated and pinned in (this is just a small strip, meant to give volume), and then the large fashion layer with dupioni and organza was pleated down to fit the smaller lining. Then the inner and outer sleeve were sewn together, and the whole thing was set in by hand, as wrangling layers is just easier that way.

Day 3 was spent on finishing the edges. This dress has a collar and belt of pleated velvet. I pleated them and stitched down the pleats by hand to make them invisible. Then they were both lined in cotton, stitched on along the velvet edge, and then the cotton layer was hand-sewn in place to finish it off. The sleeves I bound in bias tape, finished by hand.

That was the end of my weekend, and it was nearly there! The main thing left was closures, as that’s really essential to wearing, this was done in evenings. It closes with a combination of hooks and eyes, hooks and bars and snaps.

Final touches were a big velvet bow on the back collar, and a smaller one on the belt to hide the closure. I also decided to add a strip of black velvet ribbon along the sleeves.

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All in all, I’m pretty happy I got this done within a week, and I can now wear my green outfit for day events as well as balls!

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First steps towards an 1890s vest – practicing pockets

After finishing my split cycling drawers, I had quite a bit of wool left over. So I figured that I could actually make a shirt and vest to go with it, for a slightly more summery version of the outfit (as opposed to a heavy sweater). I made the blouse last summer, and now finally got started on the vest!

I’m using the 1890s vest pattern from Black Snail patterns.

It’s made to go over a corset, and has a beautiful line. I went for the double breasted view (B), with a small pocket for a watch. This pattern covers a number of tailoring techniques, and welt pockets, which were all new for me.

I started with a mock-up, and actually found I had too much room in the upper chest area.

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I took out a bit of room there by basically putting a dart in the pattern. This slightly rotates the angle of the shoulder, taking out space where I needed without needing to put a dart in the fabric itself. (Thanks to Foundations Revealed for helping out with this!). Other minor changes were to let it out just a little in the hips, and take it in a tiny bit right under the arm.

The red lines show where the fabric is folded into a dart.

I fitted the pattern both with and without a corset. My plan is to make it fit just right without a corset on, and then when wearing a corset to use the little straps at the back to pull it in. I won’t wear my corset very tightly anyway as this is more of a sporty outfit, and this way I have the option to wear it in more history bounding situations as well. I’ll have to see whether I add boning to the vest at some point to keep it smooth without corset underneath. I’ll see how all the layers work together first though, it’s difficult to estimate whether this will be necessary when a single layer of cotton is so different from wool, cotton and interlining together.

After fitting and pattern adaptations, it was time to cut the fabric! I cut the wool and the horsehair interlining, and then discovered that the brown cotton I’d planned to use for the back was nowhere to be found. I thought I had some leftover from lining the split skirt, but apparently not.

So while I’m waiting for new fabric to arrive, I decided to practice the pocket instead. Noelle from Costuming Drama made this vest and shared her process on her YouTube channel, including her iterations of pocket practice. I have a tendency to just dive in with new techniques, but I’m glad I did try it out, as I now actually understand how these pockets work.

I made one version in plain cotton (from scraps, which my iron then decided to bleed on, so forgive the slight stains):

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And then a version with my wool:

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My main takeaways from practicing were to mark well (a thin chalk pencil is a life saver here), stitch very precise and snip corners all the way. Also, when working with the wool, to perhaps use some fray-check on those snipped corners, as the wool has a tendency to unravel quickly. You need to snip corners all the way to not get any puckering, but there’s a fine line between not cutting enough (puckering) and cutting too much (fraying holes)!

These welt pockets are made in the 19th century way, which is slightly different from the modern method. I believe the main change is that the welt itself is folded inwards and stitched down, rather than out behind the fabric to be secured with the pocket itself. This way is not necessarily easier , and if you want a good tutorial on the modern way, I definitely recommend this video by my friend Nikki, who explains how to do it step by step! (She also includes a bit of the outer fabric beneath the welt, so your pocket fabric doesn’t show, which I’m not using either).

Now these are practiced, the next step is to cut the back, and the flatlining of the front, both of which I need to wait for the new fabric for. Stay tuned for further progress once those arrive!