Category Archives: Reenacting

Frocks Coats in Providence

21 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by in Clothing, History, History Space, Living History, Making Things, Museums, Reenacting

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Saturday last saw the launch of History Space, the collaborative project of the Rhode Island Historical Society and the Newport Historical Society designed to help living history practitioners and reenactors acquire the clothing and skills needed to bring the past to life.

Many parts to a frock coat.

Scheduling being what it is, we plunged right in to hands-on work with Easy Grace and Comfort, a two-day man’s frock coat workshop with Henry Cooke. We saved enormous amounts of time in the workshop by having Mr Cooke cut coat kits for participants, and I know it was well worth every penny.

There is much less on-body fitting when Mr Cooke cuts a coat for the kid than when I do. (I think the Young Mr grows while I am trying to figure it out, but Henry cuts fast enough to head him off.)

Buckram and button stands

Buckram and button stands

The most painful part of the whole thing (if fitting is largely done) is stitching on the buckram interfacing and the button stand. The zig-zag stitch as demonstrated by Henry was fairly easy to get the hang of when you caught the rhythm, but the tightness of the Red Edge stand tested my needle and even my fingertips.

There were some complaints at one table, largely voiced by the Fifer Formerly Known as Lambchop, who awaits his 10th Mass name.

Sleevils!

We made it all the way to sleeves, which is impressive, considering that some of the gentleman had not made more than a haversack or knapsack before. But if you can backstitch, and have some help with your fitting, you can make a coat.

I happen to like sleeves, myself, stitching them up and setting them in the garment. I think it’s the three-dimensionality of them that appeals to me– and I like a good challenge.

And here we are: sleevil one.

It’s critical to pay attention, though, so you make one left and one right sleeve, and to keep track of them as you set them to the garment body. I sometimes mark mine with chalk, and have even pinned notes to the pieces when feeling especially daft.

I’ve made it to an assembled coat body and sleeves, with one sleeve basted on. Before Saturday, I plan to baste on the second sleeve and test fit sleeve set on the boy. I’ll also try to get pocket flaps made. Since I have a talk to write and a bedgown to finish as well, I’m probably dreamin’ big.

When this suit is done, the Young Mr will have a very nice blue ensemble that includes breeches (join in the fun here) and a waistcoat. I think he’ll look rather nice, and better than he has previously. I still want to make lower-class* clothes for him, but first he does need a nice suit.

*I said urchin, but Mr Cooke said urchins can’t be over 6 feet tall. Basking sharks are big, but in this blue-grey suit, perhaps the Young Mr will finally be a grey reef shark.

Same Place, Different Day

17 Saturday Jan 2015

Posted by in History, Living History, Museums, Philosophy, Reenacting

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We were doing some preliminary planning for an event this fall, and we were considering recreating the 1803 funeral of Important White Guy. Our event is in October; the funeral was in September. Somebody asked me, “What does it matter when we do it?” and I didn’t respond nearly as gracefully or eloquently as I could have.

Why does it matter? Does it matter to anyone but me and my cohort?

It does, and here’s one reason why: When interpreting the funeral in late October, perhaps a member of the public will ask, “When did he die?” Can an interpreter really say “September 20” and not expect a slew of questions about how long the body was kept and why the funeral was delayed and wasn’t that a health hazard? Can the event orientation start out with “We’re doing it in October because that’s when we want to do it,” without fundamentally changing the event?

On the Colony House steps

August is hot. Can we riot in September? No!

Moving the recreation of a specific event by more than it takes to get to a weekend* seems dishonest to me: do you really want to celebrate your birthday 5 weeks after the actual date for someone else’s convenience? July 4th: Gosh, it’s not working for me this year. Let’s do that in August.

For a historical organization to suspend caring about accuracy for living history events but not for published articles, catalog records, or finding aids just contributes to the greater problem in and of living history.

When asked about the goal of a living history event, I have been told, “Well, we want families, right? So we should have some hands-on activities, you know, immersive, like candle dipping.”+

It took a bit, but at last I grasped the core of the angry-making: Kids like living history, therefore it is less sophisticated than other forms of history.

The right place for immersive string activities.

The right place for immersive string activities.

Living history is not as sophisticated, nor need it be as accurate, as traditional (written, orated, curated) historical presentations: I think that is the background assumption a lot of people make, both in the adminstration of traditional historical organizations and in the presentation on the field. It is a complete fallacy.

Living history done well and done right is as well-researched as a paper, exhibition, or article. It draws from primary sources both written and visual, it requires the absorption of countless secondary sources to help analyze the primary sources. It is as collaborative and negotiated a process as any museum exhibition, and like exhibitions, it uses material culture interpretation to deliver its messages, i.e. meet its educational and interpretive goals.

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A good living history event is beautiful, but like a ballet, that beauty does not come easily. There are no shortcuts, and beauty does not equal superficial or stupid. It indicates sophistication. Part of that appeal is accuracy: the better, the more accurate and immersive the historical setting and action you create, the more visitors can learn without asking.

Lawn games

Lawn games

When I organize an event in our house at work (or even on a guided tour) one of my interpretive points is always “people saw the world differently– literally– and this event/house tour helps you see the world of 1800 the way people living then saw it.” Aesthetics were different, and were underpinned by ideas and opinions. But understanding those aesthetics and the opinions people held about race, gender, beauty, work and class takes actual research and analysis. It’s not all putting on a pretty dress and cavorting on the lawn. Facts matter. Accuracy matters.

Museums are some of the most trusted organizations. If we started juicing facts like every History channel show, we’d lose that trust, and rightly so. Our trustworthiness is grounded in our honesty and integrity.

Living history events are mobile museums, and every reenactor curates his or her own impression. To retain the trust and interest of the public, we have to be accurate.

*Events are moved to weekends because that’s when interpreters and audiences can come.

+This at a house that not only lacks a working kitchen earlier than 1960 in the staff area and was owned by a partner in a candle factory. I’m thinking “bought ’em in bulk,” here, not dipping.

[Not Quite] Good Enough Coat

15 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by in Clothing, Fail, Living History, Making Things, Reenacting

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When not working on the Unified Theory of Living History,* I’ve been sewing for the February program in Newport. You know about the skritchy brown gown, and then there was the Great Coat Obsession. Well, here it is, in unpressed previews.

The photographer and I had barely achieved emotional détente by the time these were taken after a foray out of doors in the late afternoon, but we survived on willpower and the promise of strong beer and here you are. Two and three quarters yards were not quite enough at this length, though perhaps the coat does not have the close in the skirt. For $13, I think I’m still okay with where this is headed, though buttons will be the very devil.

My finger tips are so calloused that working touch screens is getting hard, and silk thread practically shreds when I try to make deaths head buttons. It’s still too early to give in and buy buttons, but there will be swearing ahead.

Back to the coat: there is enough wool for a cape or two, if one is pieced or false. It’s hard to tell how warm this will be, until the buttons are on and the body lined. Wearing it outdoors on Sunday did make me think about the wool flannel shift in a collection near me, and how nicely cozy that would be for winter.

 

*Stewing about recreating the past

Send in the History Clowns

14 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by in Living History, personal, Philosophy, Reenacting, Snark

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Once upon a time, I called reenactors and costumed interpreters History Clowns. The pilgrims at Plimoth Plantation 25 years ago scared me, and I did not like to visit living history museums.

petticoat

History Clown

Now, I’m one those costumed clowns.

What changed? For one thing, I did. But more importantly, living history and reenacting changed. It got better. It became more accurate, more inclusive, more specific. (Even Plimoth admitted at a Dublin Seminar that their costuming had evolved.)

When I see the fights that erupt online (there was a skirmish on Facebook last night—Peale’s march will not die), I think about the History Clowns. I think about the evolution that has taken place, and I think about the skirmishes I get into in trying to plan living history events at my own institution.

Most of these fights are not about accuracy—that FB fracas wasn’t—but do we know what they are about? We try to push back with our insistence that accuracy matters, but that’s not the argument our opponents are trying to have with us. They don’t give two rats about the cut of your breeches or the cord on your canteen or what you think of their rubber-soled shoes.

They want to be recognized. They want to be appreciated. They want to matter.

It reminds me a lot of when I first came to the place I work; I was one of three new, younger people hired within a short span of time to work on exhibits and an expansion project that never happened. As we looked at the organization, we saw things that didn’t seem right to us. But often, we met a lot of resistance to new ideas: “We’ve done that already.” “We tried that and it didn’t work.” “This is fine the way it is.” “We’ve always done it that way.”

I think those translate thusly: If you do it, you might make my attempt look bad.

If you succeed where I failed, I will look bad.

I don’t want to change.

I’m afraid to try something new.

What about my efforts? Won’t they be rewarded anymore?

I think that’s what people are saying to us sometimes, even when the words they say are, “These haversacks are fine, they’re really durable. It doesn’t matter if the fabric isn’t really right,” or “Market wallets? No, that was just a Henry Cooke fad.”*

43919175The fight is probably not as much about accuracy and authenticity as it is about feelings. That said, I think it behooves people on both sides of this line (and it is often generational) to be equally mindful of each other’s feelings. While we can respect the work that people before us have done, they should respect the work we are doing now, as new resources come to light, and new thinking is applied to history and interpretation.

Just as we cannot live in the past of historic house museums, we cannot live in the past in reenacting/living history. And while I respect the tenure of some unchanging regiments and the work they’ve done before, it comes down to this:

Accuracy matters. Adapt or die.

 

 

*I think my eyeballs fell out when I heard that one, from a guy who prides himself on his extremely accurate topographic battlefield models.

 

Drapers, Sutlers and Other Sources

10 Saturday Jan 2015

Posted by in Clothing, Living History, Making Things, Reenacting, Research

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Shopping with swatches: it’s what I do.

The biggest difference between sewers is location: I have access to resources here that people in the Midwest don’t, but friends in New York have the garment district, which is just a little too far for me.  For a lot of my projects, I’m buying from the reputable sources we all know about: Burnley & Trowbridge and Wm Booth Draper. They’re supplying people who want accurate fabrics, they do their research, and the goods are well described. But how to choose among the offerings? And where else can you go?

Wools
The creme de la creme are Kochan and Philips wools. I have some bottle green I haven’t cut yet, which I got from Roy Najecki because he’s local, he’s got the stuff, and he has other stuff my household uses (like cartridge box clasps and quarter-inch mohair braid).

Wm Booth and B&T’s wools are also good, and you can get samples. What you buy will be dictated by what you are making. Broadcloth for suits and cloaks, stuff (worsteds) for gowns and waistcoats. Buy the best you can afford: this is an investment. Divide the cost of the fabric by the number of times you’ll wear a garment, and look at the per-wear cost, the way you might look at a suit for work. (I have no regrets about that Saratoga coat, which has now been worn on at least 5 separate occasions, making the per-wear cost $25 after 18 months, and I know it will be worn again.)

Once you’ve felt and seen good-quality, period-correct wools, shopping locally is easier. Take a swatch with you and compare to what’s in the stores and you’re likely to find yourself shopping online. You’ll want 100% wool, and that’s expensive pretty much everywhere. Here in Rhode Island, I do have access to mill stores and remnant tables that make a difference in my costs and allow me to be a little more frivolous in my sewing. Sewfisticated in Framingham and Somerville and Lorraine Fabrics in Pawtucket both have remnant tables with reasonably priced goods with pretty accurate fibre labels. They’ve been the source for many a garment, but have no online sales. I don’t recommend JoAnn’s wools: they’re not as tightly woven and they’re over-priced. Wm Booth and Burnley and Trowbridge are a better value.

Silks
Here again, it’s unfortunate, but my local sources come into play. Artee, Sewfisticated and Lorraine all have both discounted taffetas and tantalizing remnant tables, but Wm Booth and Burnley & Trowbridge have fabrics the local shops do not carry. I don’t have a local source for what Booth calls “persian,” but taffeta can be found– though color choices can be limited.

The trick with silks is slub. Much of what is sold today is silk dupioni. It is not universally bad for all historical applications, as by the 19th century, silks were being sold in several grades. If it’s right for your impression (i.e. not upper class), and you can find a pretty fine dupioni, you can use it. But the really slubby (bumpy) stuff should remain in this century.

Crisp taffetas from the bridal department can be your friend, though home decorating can also yield good results. Some higher-end home dec departments do stock wool, linen and silk fabrics, as the best designers and manufacturers use them. You’ll pay for it, but again: it’s an investment you’ll enjoy over time. Online, there’s Hyena Silks, too, which has supplied some friends. But my silks are pretty much locally bought, at $9/yard.

Cottons
Here’s the biggest trouble spot for a lot of people. The mantra is that today’s quilting cottons are nothing like the cottons of the past, and while that is true in part, it is not the whole, or nuanced, truth. Quilting cottons are stiff and crisp, and generally do not drape as well as apparel fabrics. But what’s more correct is to say that the range and hand of cottons available today in historically correct or acceptable prints do not come close enough to the cottons of the past. Still, you can find good analogues for late 18th and early 19th century cottons (1750-1825) if you’re careful.

Aside from Wm Booth and Burnley & Trowbridge, I buy from Reproductionfabrics.com. She has been a good source for Indian print cottons. Time Travel Textiles no longer has a functioning web store, but the articles are still there, and useful.
Regency Revisited sells via phone and Facebook now, and has an interesting range of prints, though I have not bought from them…yet…as I am trying hard to sew down the strategic fabric reserve.

But again, I buy locally from the bargain loft at the mill store where I can feel the goods. It’s worth ordering some swatches from Burnley & Trowbridge just to get a sense of the hand of different goods. That, along with printed resources, can serve you well in an actual store (presuming they still exist near you).

Linens
Again, much of my trade is with the main two sutlers, but I buy linen in quantity from Fabrics-store.com. It’s not the best of the best (see the main two) but it gets the basic job done.

For really nice and perfectly correct linen, in every sense, Justin Squizzero’s hand-woven linens are the way to go. I’ll get a hand-woven neckerchief one of these days– actually, I want one for February– but have yet to make the leap to buying hand woven linen shirts and shifts.