• Home
  • Completed Costumes/Impressions
  • Emma and Her Dresses
  • Free Patterns and Instructions

Kitty Calash

~ Confessions of a Known Bonnet-Wearer

Kitty Calash

Category Archives: Events

Shoot meat, win a target

22 Sunday Nov 2015

Posted by kittycalash in 1830s, Events, Living History, Reenacting

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

1830s, living history, Massachusetts, Old Sturbridge Village, OSV, silliness, turkey shoot

That’s almost literally true: shoot a target, win a target would be a more accurate description of Saturday’s frivols in Massachusetts. At least the gentlemen seem to know they’re a little silly.

1830s  shooting party

Literal musketeers: Mr B, Mr K, and Drunk Tailor

Of course, this kind of event is typical of late autumn New England. My favorite version is the sqiral/skirl/sqwirl hunt.

Invitation to a squirrel hunt, 1759. MSS 9001-S , Rhode Island Historical Society

In 1759, Cousin Stafford was promised to be handsomely treated at a sqiral [sic] hunt. They would hunt for what looks like the astonishing and possibly sarcastic prize of “‘100 pound in money’ and 15 gallons of Rum and one baral of cider.” Good times in Coventry, Rhode Island that January– just not for sqirals, unless the Rum and cider were consumed before the hunt began.

Silly, in a way, though deadly for the creatures on the wrong end of the muzzle. I found this past Saturday to be suitably silly, and about the maximum level of Gun Show I can tolerate, if only because it has a greater resonance with its historical antecedants than the ritualized commemoration of battles portrayed without adhering to the turn of actual events, fortifications, or troops present. My quest for accuracy does not demand tethering turkeys as targets, and the painted wooden silhouettes with glued-on feathers presented challenging, somewhat light-hearted targets.

Silly bonnet, silly sleeves, original shawl

To finish out the silliness, sleeves o’ pouf, though hidden here under a shawl. If I’m going to keep doing these colder-weather events, I will need to invest (i.e. sew) wool shifts. I can definitely document one to Rhode Island circa 1830-1840, for whatever that’s worth. Happily, my lower half was plenty warm thanks to Mrs B’s  generous loan of a quilted petticoat (warm legs and a poufy skirt), so only my shoulders were cold by the end of the day.

Now that the last cutout has been hung and shot, and my poufy sleeves retired to the closet, I’m back to finishing up that woman’s winter waistcoat and another wool petticoat for next month. Turns out I have stocking issues I didn’t know I had– which is to say, I am in need of grippier garters (hello, mismatched wool tape!) and some quality darning time. Wool mitts may also be in my future, as I cannot locate either of my pairs of mitts– linen or wool/silk blend–among my things. I’ll be sorry not to have gloves or mittens, but as goes the documentation, so goes the frostbite and chilblains.

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
Like Loading...

Packing Meat

19 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by kittycalash in 1830s, Clothing, Events, Reenacting

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

1830s, 19th century clothing, common dress, common people, dress, fashion, living history, Massachusetts, Old Sturbridge Village, sewing

If it bleeds, it leads.

If it bleeds, it leads. Waistband pinning is surprisingly dangerous.

Sometimes you end up doing things for reasons you don’t entirely understand. Remember that brief flirtation with the 1830s? Well… we met again, and this time, I said yes to the dress.

Several friends are on the “shoot meat, win a target” program at OSV this weekend, and I agreed to go along. Yes, it’s a gun show. Yes, I’m compromising again.

Gentle reader, it gets worse. While I had not planned to dress, I rethought this choice last week. Awake in the early morning hours of November 11, I thought about dress patterns, wool petticoats, and the contents of the Strategic Fabric Reserve. One of my wool petticoats fit the waistline of my 1820s dress better than the 1800 dress I made it for, so I figured I was on my way towards being warm outdoors in November.

Spot the error. It's the dyslexic '30s.

Spot the error. It’s the dyslexic ’30s.

I have 1830s patterns, and a muslin was quick to make. Worse yet, once the muslin was made up and tried on over stays, it needed no alteration beyond a slight shoulder seam adjustment. Can you imagine? That hideous decade fits me? Doom or destiny, you be the judge: I had enough striped wool blend to cut a dress and a pelerine… so I did.

The other sleeve's stripes are just slightly off.

The other sleeve’s stripes are just slightly off.

The bodice went together quickly, and the sleeves were fairly easy at the shoulder and arm scye (I really enjoy setting sleeves). It was the length and width along the forearm that threw me, and I ended up having to piece on the lower sleeve. Twice.

The sleeves are where the meat comes in: you say pork chop, I say leg of lamb, the fashion plate says gigot. I did reduce the arc a bit, which makes this a more late-1820s style than firmly mid-1830s. Since some of the folks I’m going with will be wearing a mix of late 1820s and 1830s styles, slimmer sleeves seemed reasonable.

Rustic Dance After a Sleigh Ride, 1830. William Sidney Mount MFA Boston 48.458

Rustic Dance After a Sleigh Ride, 1830.
William Sidney Mount MFA Boston 48.458

More seriously, I’m taking cues from the William Sidney Mount painting I’m so fond of. The women in this 1830 painting have less flamboyant sleeves and possibly achievable hair. Honestly, the things I get into when I lie awake and think. I ought to know better by now…but every decade is a new adventure.

What remains to be done? Backstitching the waistband and waistband lining, hooks and bars at the back closing, the ever-popular hem of enormity, and a final pressing. Achievable, I think, with focus and some lunchtime sewing.

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
Like Loading...

Cold Comfort Compromises

09 Monday Nov 2015

Posted by kittycalash in Clothing, Events, History, Living History, Making Things, Reenacting, Snark

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

18th century clothes, 18th century clothing, authenticity, fashion, living history, sewing, style

"Henrietta Diana, Dowager Countess of Stafford", Allan Ramsay, 1759; Glasgow Museums 3026 (c) Glasgow Museums; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

Henrietta Diana, Dowager Countess of Stafford, Allan Ramsay, 1759(c) Glasgow Museums. Fur: cozy, but not for me. Also too early.

Winter is bearing down upon us, and while I was not in Connecticut last weekend, nor will I be in New Jersey two weekends hence, I do have winter history plans, barring the proverbial 50 feet of snow, which even a Subaru cannot handle. The Noble Train: I could not resist, for, as regular readers know, I prefer my history to hurt.

Still, I try to avoid cold-related illness and extreme discomfort, so I’m making sensible preparations. Of course, I have not finished my quilted petticoat, and lack the time to make a proper hand-quilted silk under-waistcoat. Reader, I have done a terrible thing: I have compromised.

The saddest part of all of this is that the waistcoat I’m making is the most feminine and luxurious item, and the only item even close to lingerie (aside from shifts) that I have ever made myself, or even own, no matter its inaccuracies. There is a kind of irony built into this project, hence a post while the irony is hot.

Waistcoat. Silk quilted and bound with silk grosgrain ribbon. ca. 1745. V&A Museum, T.87-1978

Waistcoat. Silk quilted and bound with silk grosgrain ribbon. ca. 1745. V&A Museum, T.87-1978

The waistcoat: an item of occasional debate, these are not the most common beast in museum collections. Fortunately, Sharon Burnston has a handy article and pattern posted on her website. To be clear, I am not recreating the Atwater-Kent waistcoat. I am cobbling together my own inappropriate but satisfying item. I am also using the absolutely inexcusable excuse that no one will see this garment, as well as previous bouts of pleurisy after long, cold events in stays when I had the merest hint of a cold. (My boss kindly offered to cup me for a cure when I had to take time off work, but I declined. The look on her face suggested a lack of appreciation for my historic ailment.)

But here we are, “confessions of a known bonnet-wearer” and all that, so onward to the project. I started with Sharon Burnston’s scaled diagram of the Atwater-Kent woman’s waistcoat. The shapes are very similar to a basic woman’s jacket of the period, bonus: loose fitting, no sleeves. It was easy enough to pattern up in an afternoon, with limited fitting (I did test it over stays, just in case.)

overview

The compromises I made are in the materials: pre-quilted silk (with a cotton backing), lined with wool-cashmere, and bound in silk grosgrain ribbon. The size of the diamonds and the machine quilting, plus the wool lining, make this an inauthentic, inaccurate garment. The shape, construction, and binding are at least correct, as far as they go. But the lusciousness of that remnant table cashmere and the soft colors please me immensely, and I do expect to be warm.

corner

This has been a quick project, with the majority of time spent on the binding. As in the Atwater-Kent waistcoat, I’m top stitching with a running stitch on the inside, folding the ribbon over, and hem stitching on the outside.

Will this feel like a hair shirt of shame under my gown, compromise as it is? Maybe, but at least it’s cashmere.

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
Like Loading...

Good Grief

25 Sunday Oct 2015

Posted by kittycalash in Events, History, Living History, Museums, Reenacting

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

19th century clothing, authenticity, Federal style, first person interpretation, funeral, historic house museums, interpretation, John Brown, John Brown House Museum, living history, memorials, mourning, Providence, Rhode Island Historical Society, Rhode Island history, What Cheer Day, women's work, work

1803 dress and hair

Pre-sweat melted hair

I had my doubts about this event, since we were interpreting the death and mourning of John Brown a full month after it actually happened, and initially resisted somewhat strenuously. But people change, and by the time I was operating a motor vehicle at high speed on I-90 six months later, I could be– and was– convinced. Knowing little, if anything, about early Federal mourning customs mattered not at all. There’s always time to learn, right? Well… if you read fast enough, you can do anything.

Esther and Kitty draping the mirrors

Esther and Kitty draping the mirrors

Despite the bustle, Esther and I found time to cover many of the mirrors with sheets, and the portraits with black crepe; this is a time of reflection, not vanity. It gave our rooms a gloomy mien, and reminded us of our short span on this earth.

Visitors in the front hall of the John Brown House, Providence RI

We had many callers

We did have many callers Saturday afternoon, as John Brown was such a significant figure in Providence. He accumulated significant wealth, as Mr and Mrs Thurber attested when they came to inquire about the profits from the voyage Mr T had invested in– $30,000!

Callers pay respects to Mr Brown

Mr and Mrs Thurber pay their respects to Mr Brown

Thirty thousand is a fine sum indeed, though one wonders where Mrs Thurber might spend those proceeds. While a generally refined person, she made many inquiries about sherry, so I was relieved I’d had the foresight to lock away the decanters. So many people call during a time of grief that you cannot be too careful.

1803 ladies ponder fashion plates

Considering mourning dress options

The mantua maker came to call, bringing black silks and plates for the ladies to choose from. We have had a mix of joy and sorrow in this house, and it is only of late that Mrs Francis (on the left, in blue), has left behind her more matronly garb following the death of her beloved husband John Francis in 1796. It was a crushing blow for her, but she does seem to have recovered now.

1803 woman and baby

Mrs H and her darling daughter, Anna

Mrs Herreshoff was with us, visiting from Point Pleasant in Bristol, and her mother found baby Anna, now just more than five months old, a great consolation indeed. Anna was dressed in mourning for her grand-papa, though she will not remember him. Despite the many callers, baby Anna was truly an angel.

Historical minister and coffin

The Congregational minister called.

The ladies upstairs were a respite for us servants, though we were comforted by the visiting minister from the Congregational church. They cannot make up their minds to a new minister, now that their beloved Dr Hitchcock has left them for heaven. They try on new ones for size nearly every week, and while that is not my congregation, I do think the Reverend Cooke is an excellent choice, combining devotion with humor.

costumed interpreters

The sexton’s son came to inquire if Mrs B wished rent the hearse

A more troublesome caller was Mr Richard Hoppin, son of the sexton at First Baptist church. They do possess the sole hearse in our town, and kindly (for a fee) provide it in times of need. I’m not certain of Mr Hoppin’s stability, for he was inclined to– well, to hop!– in our hallway, a most inappropriate action. The widow did seem to cause him fright (she is a formidable personage, as one would be, after so many years married to Mr Brown), so perhaps he was merely addled by his encounter with her. She wisely inquired after the solidity and soundness of the hearse, for Mr Brown was a substantial figure.

1803 widow and coffin

The widow Mrs Brown reflects upon her late husband

Mr Brown was a great support to us all, and his absence will truly be noted in our household and in our town. I do expect the house will feel empty without his presence, and that Esther, Goody and I will much remark upon the quiet as we go about our tasks.

costumed interpreters on the steps of the John Brown House

The obligatory group photo finale.

From an administrative and managerial stance, this What Cheer Day was different: we cut the interpreted day in half, running the event from 1:00 till 4:00, but still saw about the same number of visitors as we had in a six-hour day. A shorter day meant interpreters were somewhat less exhausted by the close of the day (costumed staff who started their day at 5:00 AM excepted), and the schedule did not have to be as detailed as in previous years. We also reprised a “make your own miniature” activity from the August George Washington 1790 event, and brought in period musicians, who played in the Washington Wallpaper room while people colored miniatures. We also put out an exhibit of memorial art and mourning jewelry, to help contextualize the miniature activity. Since we’ll be leaving the coffin on display and the mirrors and portraits draped through next weekend, a small display (three cases, labels finally finished at 11 AM on the day of the event) seemed like a good idea and opportunity. Upsides: chance to show off the collection, engage people in a hands-on activity, multi-sensory experiences. Downsides: Slightly more to accomplish than hands to do the work, still short a servant, always a little rough the first time you change topics. Unexpected bonus: slightly bumpy transitions in personal life make a suitably sad housekeeper. Score!

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
Like Loading...

Experiencing Eastfield Village

20 Sunday Sep 2015

Posted by kittycalash in 1830s, Events, Living History, Reenacting

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

10th Massachusetts, 1830s, authenticity, common people, domestic life, Eastfield Village, Federal style, historic houses, historic interiors, interpretation, women's history, women's work

The Young Mr on site.

The Young Mr on site.

Mr Hiwell, the Young Mr and I ventured out to Nassau, New York this weekend to be part of Founders Day Celebration at Eastfield Village. The gents were part of the 1833 militia muster, while I traveled out intending to interpret tailoring with Mr JS, and to provide meals for the militia.

It’s an interesting assemblage of buildings, and we were pretty curious about what the site and the experience would be like. While OSV and Genesee are also assembled villages, they’re museums, with different missions and guidelines; they’re also larger, with electricity and flush toilets for visitors and volunteers alike. That means they’re lovely, but not nearly as immersive as the pitch-dark privy experience.

The back of the Benjamin Culver house, or, our dining room for dinner.

The back of the Benjamin Culver house, or, our dining room for dinner.

Wear all the patterns possible, please.

Wear all the patterns possible, please.

There was a lot to consider at Eastfield, but I’m tired from driving back and will stick to the simple things for now.

I was incredibly fortunate to have a bed—indeed, the entire 1787 Benjamin Culver house—to myself for sleeping. Friday night, after changing into period clothes, we went up to the Yellow Tavern to eat our supper (pasties brought from home, with hard cider for Mr JS and myself). The candle lit taproom was cozy, and I understand from Mr JS that the sleeping quarters upstairs were even cozier.

We cooked our meals in the Yellow Tavern kitchen, and ate sometimes in the taproom, and sometimes standing in the kitchen, except for dinner, which was served picnic style on the grass behind the Culver House. (Saturday supper was provided by Eastfield Village and prepared by Neil DiMarino with able help; that deserves a post all its own.)

Cozy is as cozy does.

Cozy is as cozy does.

Much of time was spent on women’s work, interpreting daily tasks to a stream of visitors travelling through the house from front door to back, and sometimes upstream. The scullery—for want of a better word—had a soapstone sink which drained through the wall, which made dish washing pretty plush, and provided entertainment for all who cared to witness it. No chickens were present, but from washing dishes at Coggeshall Farm, chickens would have enjoyed the ground beneath that window drain.

The view from the scullery: not bad, really.

The view from the scullery: not bad, really.

There are always curious questions, from “Is this a house?” in a tone of wonderment, to “Where did you get the water?”

Gentle reader: these stumped me, briefly, until I was able to gather my wits enough to reply, “Yes, it’s a house, built in 1787,” and to assure the visitor that people had, in fact, managed to live in it. The water question was somewhat more perplexing.

I started with, “Well, I got this from the hose, but they would have had a well,” when the visitor stopped me. “No, I mean, how did you get it hot?”

The kettle had been over the fire in what would be the kitchen room where Mr JS and I were set up to sew, and the fire was still producing heat, albeit from coals. Then I realized she had not been among the clump of people watching me remove the kettle from the crane so that I could pour hot water into my basins. I pointed to the kettle, and said, “Over the fire.”

Fire hot.

Fire hot.

It’s hard: there’s so much we take from granted in our own daily 21st-century lives, let alone what we become accustomed to when we inhabit the past. Interpreting between the two worlds, things can be lost in translation.

I’m always curious about what I’ll learn when I travel to a different century, and I think what I learned, again, was that I find it hard to find a way to interpret women’s lives and work in the past that does not reinforce stereotypes of “life was hard” and “roles were constrained.” Enough! I tried explaining the greater freedom some women enjoyed in the early Federal era, in contrast to the pre-Revolution and post- Great Awakening eras, but that wasn’t entirely successful, and would you believe that story from a woman washing dishes?

What I may really have learned is that I’ve done enough time in the kitchen and the scullery; I’d rather be the tavern keeper than the cook or scullery maid. Women were in business, and while never on the scale of partnerships like Brown & Francis, women as merchants, tavern keepers, landlords, and, yes, tailoresses, are underrepresented. It’s easier to talk down the scale than it is to talk up the scale from the washbasin to the shop or tavern, so it’s time to leave the wash basins aside for a bit.

Done with dishes for now, thank you.

Done with dishes for now, thank you.

Share this:

  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
Like Loading...
← Older posts
Newer posts →

Archives

wordpress statistics

Creative Commons License
Kitty Calash blog by Kirsten Hammerstrom is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Website Built with WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Kitty Calash
    • Join 621 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Kitty Calash
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    %d