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~ Confessions of a Known Bonnet-Wearer

Kitty Calash

Category Archives: Fail

Stony Point Part the Second

31 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by kittycalash in Events, Fail, Food, Reenacting

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

10th Massachusetts, Brigade of the American Revolution, failure, food, hose water, Reenacting, Revolutionary War, Stony Point

DSC_5121

No, it’s not my photo of the Young Mr: I didn’t even take a real camera on this trip. These top two photos are thanks to Gary V’s Flickr stream.

Here the kid is eating. I think he spent most of the weekend eating. There are some fine calves in the 10th Mass, aren’t there? Look what a well-fitted pair of overalls can do for you.

10th MA and 2nd RI: Mr S, Mr HC, Mr P, YM, Mr FC, Mr B, Mr  H

We all benefited from hanging around Niel DeMarino’s historic bakery. Broken cookies are just as delicious as whole, if not better, and the ginger cakes were the best I’d ever had. It’s a pity that one can’t really bake in camp…

Mr S thinks I should tell the story of my 90-minute stint in solitary at Stony Point, but I’m not quite prepared for that.

Instead, I shall recount the Hose Water Coffee.

As fans of the 18th century know, orange water and rose water are not uncommon flavors in the receipts found in Hannah Glasse or Amelia Simmons‘ cookbooks.

Hose water is something else again. It is not improved with age.

At Stony Point, there was water at a stone ‘bubbler’ (props to those who used this Rhode Island term for the street furniture known elsewhere as a drinking fountain), which was hard to see in the gathering dusk the night we arrived. There was also a hose, proximate to a saw horse with a sign for Pedestrian Only traffic, and just down the path from our tents.

Colonial breakfast on a rock

Our kitchen, dining table, and parlour

Following Heather’s excellent advice, I planned to make cold coffee overnight so that we could be caffeinated in the morning. Lazily and unwisely, I used the hose to fill the pitcher of doom that first evening.

What is the essence of tire? L’eau latex? That’s what we had: strong coffee with a strong base note and unmistakable top note and bountiful middle notes of hose. Did we drink it? Of course we did: we were up at 5, and coffee was not provided until 8:30, when we all had second breakfast.

Saturday night, I skulked back to the bubbler and filled the pitcher again for Sunday’s coffee. This time, the clear, strong liquid was redolent only of coffee, and was judged better than the hot coffee (which had, in fairness, not been made with hose water, either). I’ll definitely repeat the coffee experiment, though I think I can use a little less coffee to water– not that I measured.

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Ceci n’est pas une cruche

29 Tuesday Jul 2014

Posted by kittycalash in Events, Fail, History, Living History, personal, Reenacting, Snark

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

10th Massachusetts, authenticity, Brigade of the American Revolution, common people, common soldier, cooking, food, interpretation, living history, Reenacting, Revolutionary War

This is not a pitcher

Sometimes a pitcher is not a pitcher. In the same way that Matthiessen‘s Snow Leopard is not about a snow leopard, this was not about me: this was about the woman who approached me as I walked with Cat to the water bubbler with this white ceramic pitcher from Home Goods.

She stopped me to say, “You shouldn’t have a pitcher in camp. You should have a bucket.”

This is true, as far as it goes: but really, I should have a tin kettle (and I do). But the reasoning I was given had to do not so much with the fragility of the pitcher (which I pack in a basket or wrap in our towels and stuff into something in the supply wagon) as it did with the myth of Molly Pitcher. For an explication of the Molly Pitcher myth, I refer you to the Journal of the American Revolution, because, as I said to the woman who approached me, “It’s not my fight.”

So what’s the point? Maybe there are several:

One might be, Everyone has a hobby horse. Some of us are made mad by The Bodice. Some of us cannot abide makeup on “camp followers” who look like stragglers from a high school production of Sweeny Todd. Some of us are material culture and camp equipment fanatics– begone, ironware! Still others twitch at the baggy, off-the-rack cut and fit of some uniforms.

For another, This wasn’t about me– or my pitcher. The woman who approached me had a thing about Molly Pitcher and the myth of the woman on the battlefield with a pitcher, bringing water to the men. My pitcher and I were merely a trigger.

colonial woman with pitcher and kettle

Everybody’s got something to hide ‘cept for me and my…pitcher? or kettle?

And for a third, We all make choices and compromises. I chose not to bring the antique family copper coffee pot into the field, and also chose not to let the coffee and water sit overnight in the tin kettle. I chose, too, to use the white pitcher and a redware one for water that we drank all day long. When it’s hot, I slice lemons or limes into the water to make it easier to drink as much water as we need to in a day spent sweating outdoors, and it prevents scurvy to boot.

Fourth? We can all, always, make better choices. Few among us achieves true 18th century purity– I can assure you that even had I dashed my pitcher to the ground Saturday and dropped to my knees in repentance, I was not 18th century to the skin. There are monthly occurrences that I won’t go old school on, and on this point I shall not be moved.

But back at my ‘rock maple’ table, I could do better. We could/should have but one wooden bowl (mine), and the boys could/should have tin bowls, and we could/should swap out the redware canns with the handles broken off, but they make a nice refugee statement and until they break completely…

And there is a fabulous copper cistern by Goose Bay Workshops that I covet for its copper glory, but since it is not tinned inside, no lemons or limes would be allowed, and it would be hard to argue it for a Light Company. That puts me at another tin kettle, designated for water, and dipping our cups in. I can probably live with that choice.

But then, if I encounter someone who wants to talk about Molly Kettle, I’ll know I’m in real trouble.

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Coat Tales

23 Monday Jun 2014

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

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

1812, 19th century clothing, fashion, Federal style, fitting, Fitting and Proper, frock coat, menswear, Norah Waugh, Regency, Salem event, style, tailcoat

Coat pattern version 3

Coat pattern version 3

As the Salem Maritime Festival approaches, my anxiety increases.

Whatever will those ‘gentlemen’ wear? Coats and waistcoats, and thank goodness I finished the Young Mr’s shirt and his farm trousers still fit. He has promised to be a very annoying runaway apprentice, and I have promised to chase him from the miilliners’ shop with a broom, but before any of that can happen, ‘gentlemen’ will need new waistcoats and coats.

I got out Fitting and Proper, and took a look at that coatee pattern. It’s a little earlier than I want, so I also looked at The Cut of Men’s Clothes. In truth, I did not draft up a pattern from scratch. I had a commercially available pattern that I’d purchased when it first came out, one that purported to be historically correct, researched, and came from a reputable company.

Toile number 3. One more fitting to go...

Toile number 3. One more fitting to go…

Well…so I guess the issue with the pattern is that the gentlemen in my household are not of the typically boxy build one may see streaming past tourist sites in Boston, or even lumbering across a field in historical uniforms. My gentlemen are built for the Light Infantry, so when I finished the first muslin (or toile) of the coat and fitted it to Mr S, I removed inches–yes, inches–of material along the side and center back.

I suspected this would be necessary when I first traced the pattern pieces, but went ahead because you really have to mark up a toile on the body in question to get the fit correct. Maybe it’s just this many toiles because I’m inexperienced.

Center back pattern, version 3

Center back pattern, version 3

In any case, the armscye and upper shoulder seam were re-drafted, the drape and sweep of the tails, the width of both side and center tails, the side seam of the body, and both seams on the center back piece, which originally had a flat center back seam (I ask you!), a shorter shoulder seam, and a different side seam.

I’ve left the tail length short and after toile number 4, will mark the final tail length for both gentlemen (luckily we are at a sweet spot where this fits Mr S well and the Young Mr passably, so that with minor adjustments for the lad, a second coat could be made at some time).

I still don’t believe the tail pleats entirely, but lack the time this week to draw them from an original. They still seem too wide, though I have taken an inch or more off every tail edge.

The last thing to really wrangle, after bringing the under arm seam back up, is the sleeve; the upper arm is too long, reflecting the fact that the basis for this sleeve is my Spencer sleeve, which traces its origin to Mr Cooke’s linen suit coat pattern. Both Mr S and the Young Mr have shorter humeri and femora, which put the elbow crook on their forearms which looked rather silly and uncomfortable.

In the end, the pattern I had proved useful only in saving me from the math of enlarging a pattern from a book– it got me full-scale immediately, so that I could proceed to fitting–but this project will, when it finished, reflect multiple fittings and four pattern drafts.

If there is a moral to this story, it is this: Almost nothing will fit straight out of the book or the envelope, so leave plenty of time for catching your subject and fitting muslins.

Another moral may be, “Buy muslin in bulk,” which I did thanks to a clearance sale. I’ve already used 2 yards off the bolt I bought Saturday afternoon.

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Visual Illiteracy

23 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by kittycalash in Art Rant, Clothing, Fail, Research, Snark, TV Review

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

art, Banastre Tarleton, Captain Tallmadge, Colonel Tarleton, dragoons, helmets, light, museum collections, National Gallery, paintings, Research, Revolutionary War, Turn

Banastre Tarlteon by Joshua Reynolds

Portrait of Sir Banastre Tarleton (1754-1833) by Joshua Reynolds, 1782. National Gallery (UK)


See update below!

By 9:00 on Sunday, I was asleep and missed “Turn,” which Mr S wasn’t even watching because, as he declared, “It’s just a bad show.” On Monday evening, I made it through the opening of the show and gave up for good. But those minutes made me think of the Banastre Tarleton portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the suggestion on Twitter that “Turn” had no historical consultant.

It occurred to me, as I stared at the rather curious headgear worn by Captain Tallmadge (I think it’s stretch lycra over a “Roman” gladiator costume helmet glued to a baseball cap visor and edge-taped with gold foil) that perhaps the people doing the costumes simply lacked visual literacy. This could explain the refugees from Fort Lee who looked like they stepped out of an Emma Lazarus poem, and it could explain the very unfortunate helmet.

Tarleton_notes

Let us look at Banastre Tarleton, hunky bad boy of the British dragoons: he came to mind on Monday night, and what visual relief he is.

Note the light edge of the visor: this is a highlight. The leading edge of a polished surface will shine, and helmets, even of leather, will be reflective. Over time, the edges will polished by wear if not on purpose. I cannot speak to the helmet habits of the horse-mounted, but I know from paintings, and that edge is a highlight.

The Boys last July. Look, shiny, not-taped visor edges.

The Boys last July. Look, shiny, not-taped visor edges.

Reynolds painted what he saw, and just as the Young Mr’s cheekbones are reflecting light off the underside of his visor and Mr S’s helmet edge is shining in the direct light, so too is Colonel Tarleton’s helmet edge shining.

(Yes, there are both mounted and unmounted dragoons within a unit; but I just can’t help feeling that an officer would be mounted more often than he has appeared to be thus far.)

ETA: Heather has graciously pointed out a very nice blog on Turn, which is doing a far more even-handed and informed job of watching and commenting on the show. Thank you, Heather!

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Not in Defense of ‘Turn’

14 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by kittycalash in Fail, History, Snark, TV Review

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

18th century clothes, 18th century clothing, historical fiction, history, material culture, Revolutionary War, snark, Turn, TV Review

John André’s self-portrait, 1780. George Dudley Seymour Papers, Manuscripts and Archives, Sterling Memorial Library, Yale University

John André’s self-portrait, 1780. George Dudley Seymour Papers, Manuscripts and Archives, Sterling Memorial Library, Yale University

Like all the other history-obsessed Rev War reenactors with basic cable, Mr S and I have been watching ‘Turn’ on AMC, and like some other reenactors, I’ve been lurking on the fringes of the Facebook feeds trashing the show, but hoping a contrarian view would be possible, just to keep things interesting.

So we watched last night with the best intentions: I would not think about shoulder seams, drawstring-neck shifts, circular caps, obvious mascara, white linen shirts on farmers, shirts with neck bands but not collars, a lilac silk cloak on a farmers’ wife, the amazing amount of light candles throw, beards on smugglers who look like they escaped from a spaghetti western… Mr S has learned to live with this and I have learned to keep quieter. He learns best visually, so he really had hopes for this show. I think we all did, even given what we know Hollywood does to historical realities.

Mr S keeps asking, “Where’s the war? Where are the soldiers?”

I keep asking, “Why is Tallmadge allowed to be on his own for so long, and what the heck is wrong with his uniform facings? And he’s a dragoon, where the heck is his horse?”

The low shoulder seams on Woodhull’s leather(?) jacket still make me nuts, though I think Anna serving in the tavern in a pristine white apron over a cranberry silk button-front gown really took the cake last night, costume-wise.

The dialogue howler I enjoyed the most (i.e. caused the final outburst) was Major Andre and his “player” girlfriend who is so not pumping him for information (horrid pun intentionally retained).

If you were the suave Major, you would respond with complete candor to the charming (mascara-eyelashed, obvious foundation-wearing, look out for the lip-gloss) woman’s question: “You will tell me where you’re going on your next secret mission, won’t you?” “Why, sweetie, yes, and let me use my time machine to bring you the Enigma machine and a smallpox vaccination.”

I expect and grudgingly tolerate:

  • Bad costuming
  • Odd set dressing (highly suspicious table in the church-stable; suspect it would be happier in Amistad)
  • The incredible candlepower of candles
  • Non-18th century speech rhythms
  • Changes to actual events for increased drama

But patently absurd, asinine dialogue on top of all that goes beyond my patience.

I should give it up: Two Advil PM at 8 and I’ll no longer spend an hour every Sunday night performing mental alterations on TV costumes. (Those shoulder seams really annoy me, and could someone try pressing the facings?)

But no; next week, Fort Lee should fall and chances are good Mr S will lead the screen-shouting…

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