Category Archives: Making Things

Work, work, workman’s jacket

04 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Historical Sew Fortnightly, Making Things, Reenacting

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It fits! It might be painful, though.

Ah, yes. Work. It continues on the workman’s jacket for the Young Mr to wear at Battle Road, and for next week’s HSF deadline. There are some additional views of him in the same pose here. I tacked the lapels down because I have seen that detail on an original garment, and because if I don’t, they’re likely to bother the kid.

The nice thing about a workman’s jacket is that a waistcoat is optional underneath it. This short, only post-RevWar waistcoats look alright. So for Battle Road, long underwear may be in order. It wasn’t last year, but who knows?

Paul Sandby, A Sandpit. YCBA B1975.3.930

Paul Sandby, A Sandpit. YCBA B1975.3.930

Sandby, Roslin Castle detail, YCBA, B1975.4.1877

Paul Sandby, Roslin Castle detail, YCBA, B1975.4.1877

The form is authentic, thank goodness, for working men’s clothes; on the left, in a detail from Sandby’s A Sandpit, is a jacket in blue. On the right, in a detail from Roslin Castle, Midlothian, is another jacket that looks short, worn without a waistcoat. It may not be as short, but I am encouraged by the lack of waistcoat, though I will insist on shoes…

The form persists for a long time, and is seen in military wear as well, in light infantry and dragoon troops, as well as in sailor’s clothing.

 

What’s in your pocket?

01 Friday Mar 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Historical Sew Fortnightly, Making Things

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A typical rough linen lining

My son’s pockets used to be full of acorns: he collected them at the bus stop, but I don’t know if it was because he planned to feed the squirrels, or if he thought he was a squirrel. Later, he moved on to rocks. Now, rocks, fish hooks, a pocket knife, change and a hankie fill the pockets of his 18th century breeches.

We’ve had some moments of unhappiness when things have gone missing from the pockets, though we’ve usually found them again. When you look at the contents list, you wonder how the linen stands up as well as it does.

There’s a clever way to upgrade pocket bags in menswear, and it’s authentic: leather bags, instead of linen. Original garments have leather bags, probably deerskin, and they’re deliciously soft and very durable. Stuff all the heavy, sharp things you want to in that pocket, and it will probably take it.

1895.4.3A-C

1895.4.3A-C

Based on a suit in the RIHS Collection, I decided to modify the pocket bags on the Young Mr’s new workman’s jacket-in-progress, which I plan to have finished by March 11 for HSF #5, Peasants and Pioneers.

Made of a heavy, rough-finished brown broadcloth (possibly manufactured in New England), both jacket and breeches pocket bags are made of deerskin.

Pocket bag in progress.

To recreate this, I took a trip to the auto parts store, and purchased a large chamois.  Instead of cutting the bags from linen, I cut them from the chamois and trimmed the seam allowances: chamois won’t ravel, so the seam won’t need to be folded over at the top.

A little fuzzy, but you get the idea

I backstitched the bag seam, and in general, I’m pleased with the way it has turned out. I think I’ll look into additional leather options, but otherwise, it seems like a fairly successful experiment.

The real test, of course, will be user testing. How many sharp, heavy things can the kid load in a pocket before it gives out?

Better Backstitching

25 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things, Reenacting

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Almost ready for fitting!

Practice: that’s the key. That’s the only key. Just keep stitching…and eventually, the stitches will get smaller and you will get faster.

I spent the week transforming last Monday’s stack of pieces into overalls. This sewing business is amazing! Flat pieces turn into something wearable, and it’s all made out of string in various arrangements. (I may need to get out more…)

The pattern from Henry Cooke goes together very nicely. The pockets are a nice element, and their installation is simpler (I’d call it elegant) than other breeches or trouser pockets I’ve made thus far (this is pair six of breeches/overalls/trousers, pattern four).

That sounds like a lot, doesn’t it? Here’s the spool of thread I bought 18 months ago on the left, and the new one on the right. Along the way, I’ve also used up several spools of colored linen thread, a couple of silk and a few of cotton. The new spool is 1150 feet of linen thread, which seems like a lot to start with. It goes fast, though. The used-up spools were smaller, but when you aim for 10-12 spi, that’s a lot of stitches. Best not to count.

With the fall dropped, you can see the bearer/waistband connection

Very cleverly done, this pocket-bearer-waistband arrangement. My sewing has improved, and luckily for me, these are heavy plain weave linen (acting as osnaburg, here) rather than heavy drill. Heavy drill kills my hands, but this has been pretty pleasant to stitch thus far. Who’s to say what fresh hell the buttonholes will bring–but that’s another week away, at least.

And then it will start all over again on pair number two…but not before I’ve altered the frock coat and possibly breeches, made a jacket and a hunting shirt, and, I hope, a gown. Six weeks to go!

Shoe Envy

21 Thursday Feb 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

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Suit, 1914-1918. MMA

Suit, 1914-1918. MMA

Yes, I am as shallow as stereotypes might suggest: I see shoes, I often want shoes. Even my current co-workers know about the red leather Cuban-heeledAdrienne Vittadini pumps I passed up when they were on post-Christmas sale at Marshall Field’s way back in the Dark Ages. They would have gone nicely with this red wool suit from the Met.

There’s a Steam Railway in Essex, CT and when we went on Staff Day, we were told the train car was from 1914, an excellent year for fashion–at least before that August. It seemed like a great plan: make 1914 clothes and ride the train again next fall, possibly carrying vintage luggage or a basket with a delicious picnic. Really, who’s in? Let’s book it!

The World War I era has fascinated me for a long time, from Vera Brittain to Siegfried Sassoon,  from Wobblies (perhaps because I grew up in Chicago) to war memorials, so the Steam Train Outing in Period Dress was particularly tempting, and I started a board for early 20th century costume. Downton Abbey fans will enjoy it, too, and while I tired of Swedish murders and finally caved to Downton’s charms, my film choice for the period is Testament of Youth.

Libby Hall Dog Photo from flickr

When I saw the American Duchess pre-order for Gibson shoes, I was sorely tempted. (They’re quite similar to what the lady on the right is wearing.) Fortunately, I am saved by my pedal extremities, for which my size is not yet available.

But what really holds me back is the thought of sewing the corset. It’s like the hip surgery I don’t want to have: I know how painful it is, and how inescapable. There is no way to properly dress in the past unless you do it from the skin out. But shoes–and those fantastic Edwardian hats–might just get me to make that corset. Shallow, isn’t it?

Bloody Overalls

19 Tuesday Feb 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Living History, Making Things

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Just started backstitching, already bleeding

But that’s still better than the story I heard yesterday about the incredibly authentic, effluvial-field dipp’d overalls that gave a mender dysentery…you come here for this, right, not the pretty dresses?

My thumb has split– yay, winter!–so everything will be a little trickier. Guess I’ll lay off handling white silk gowns at work, and documents, but the sewing will continue.

The Line of Truth

We went up to the Adjutant’s house yesterday, now that the roads are cleared again, and the lads got measured. Best of all, Mr S got fitted. He has what I ungenerously call “The Hump,” and what the Adjutant describes as “Shoulders Roll Forward.” The Adjutant has tact; I’m the wife, I calls it like I sees it.

It was really helpful. I knew the coat was too big (Mr S is built more like an 18th century soldier than a 21st century office worker), but I knew it had more wrong with it that too much fabric. At left, see the chalk line? The sleeve seam sits at the shoulder point, where I am told it will be uncomfortable as it rubs, which will also wear out the shirt faster. I knew what to do it the sleeve had been on a gown– unstitch it and re-align it under the shoulder strap, mark it and trim the excess off the head. In a way, that’s just what I will do here. There’s also excess to take out of the upper arm, but that’s not too bad for a garment that I made in a hurry and never really fitted to the wearer. And I have until mid-April to do it.

I have two of these greige stacks to transform.

At the same time, I also have to transform two of these piles of pieces into well-fitted, hand-sewn overalls. Despite the pride I’ll feel in accomplishing what I expect will, under guidance, be the best-fitted, most authentic garments I’ve made, saving my green checked apron, there’s a minor measure of terror mixed in to all this…hope those back stitches hold…