Tag Archives: 18th century clothes

Mary Adams

22 Friday Mar 2013

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Mary Adams, 1754, YCBA

Meet Mary Adams, painted in 1754. She looks to be a certain age, does she not? But she’s still rocking some style. I like black, and wore black clothes almost exclusively for years from high school on, despite the relentless taunts of  feral sixth-grade boys. (My nickname was Boots. Costuming and living history is but another episode of dressing funny…)

But I digress.

Mary was a happy find this morning, because I knew I’d seen this little detail somewhere…and here it is:

Detail, Mary Adams, 1754,B1981.25.513, YCBA

Detail, Mary Adams, 1754,B1981.25.513, YCBA

Did you catch that? It looks remarkably like Mary has laced her gown over her kerchief, and not over a stomacher. I’m doing a little dance, thankyouverymuch, because that is how I roll. Or lace, as the case may be. Look, too, at the top of the lacing: her gown is pulling. Yes. Imperfections, how I adore thee.

Snark aside, it’s a kind of relief. Looking at Copley and Feke and all their sleek silken women is like flipping through Vogue in the doctor’s office waiting room: after a while, I start to feel woefully inadequate in all ways. From the Richard III gown’s wiggly seams to my inability to pin my dresses straight, and heck, the generally asymmetrical rumpled-ness of my presentations… you can get to feeling very low, as Thompson and Thomson observe in Prisoners of the Sun.

Details!

Details!

So among the things  I note in the painting is the depth of the pull at the top of the gown.  Hmm. I feel better about how my flesh and gown relate in the armpit area now.

But if the pull line starts over beyond the robings, that helps a costumer figure out where to put the lace holes and how to arrange the gown. I also like the asymmetry of blue lace zig-zagging down the kerchief. When I work that out on Richard III, and alter my red calico gown, I’ll use Mary’s portrait as a reference.

Finally, and perhaps best, of all, Mary can read. And she need spectacles. That wonderful pair in her hand look like they are cousins of this pair. All in all, a happy find this morning.

Can’t talk, sewing.

21 Thursday Mar 2013

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Raspal,_Antoine_-_The_Couturiers_workshop_-_1760

I wish I had this workshop to help me! Instead, I have the “assistant” who tends to howl and a room full of garments to finish and alter. The skirts of the brown gown are done and want only tape at the hems, so I can, in theory, move onward to sleeves. I’ll have to scrap plans for an HSF petticoat this weekend, as I have really fallen behind.

Menswear, to finish and to alter

Battle Road inspection/walk through is Saturday, and second hand reports of the reactions to letters received have me thinking about authenticity, standards, and communication. Last Saturday, I went to see Sew18thCentury and had a lovely time. Not only did we have a delicious late lunch and tea, an interesting chat about ideas and sewing and all sorts of things, I also got to get outta town on my own. (For growing up in a city, I am very happy to spend time in open spaces with grass, trees, and cows.)

I mentioned to Sew18thCentury that we’d wrestled with Fort Ti and chosen not to go because we did not, in our estimation, meet standards, and she was surprised that we didn’t. In truth, we did not. The guys clothes weren’t right, and I know our blankets aren’t right…heck, our tent’s not right.

What makes it all worse is that I know these things aren’t right. So I’ve tracked down blankets and just need to order them, and the tent–well, not this year, but maybe next, I can get around to sewing a linen bell-back tent. Mr S has learned back-stitching and whip stitching this week, so in a year we could tackle a tent together. It’s a process, and this year, unless there was a miracle of increased speed in sewing, I still wouldn’t go to Fort Ti in September.

But what about Battle Road? This inspection is not just for safety, it’s also for dress and appearance. This has thrown me into a tizzy: the jacket’s not done and the coat’s not altered. If the guys don’t pass inspection, they can’t be part of Battle Road, and I’ll feel bad that I didn’t put alterations first. But realistically, I can’t imagine getting their things done by Saturday morning. At least the coat will have the alteration marks made by the master… the road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but the road to Battle Road is paved with pins and linen thread.

Ladies of a Certain Age….

20 Wednesday Mar 2013

Posted by in Clothing, History, Living History, Reenacting

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Alsa Slade, 1816.

Alsa Slade, 1816.

I don’t know exactly what “that certain age” is, but I think I’m headed there downhill on an icy street in a speeding carriage.

Here’s another good question: What about age? I didn’t address it directly in working out Kitty’s Brown Gown, but I did consider it. She’s in her 40s, and if you look at portraits by Copley and other artists, older women are often dressed in brown. These are respectable ladies, and when Kitty’s feeling more like a bad servant, she’s happy to wear her ca. 1774 red and black calico dress, and make tracks for Germantown.

I’ve been thinking a lot about personae and impressions, and first person interpretations. One of the best things I learned at a recent workshop was “first person thinking,” and in the historic costuming/re-enacting/living history/ historic re-creationist context, when you wonder what to wear, do, say, pack, eat, I think this is where it starts:

Know Your Self. It all flows from who (and when) you imagine yourself to be.

The Ege-Galt Family, 76.100.1, Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Center

The Ege-Galt Family, 76.100.1, Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Center

So let’s take age in account. For Battle Road, 1775, Kitty’s in her 40s. That means she was born around 1735, and came of age in the 1740s and 1750s. Knowing the styles of that time I’m even more comfortable choosing cuffs, because that’s what she grew up with.  She’s not going to be very fashion forward–not just because of her class, but also because of her age. (For added fun and dimensions, start thinking about what she saw and read.)

What about choosing fashions for the older set in 1812? That’s where it gets really interesting, to me. Check out the Ege-Galt family portrait, ca. 1802. The older women are NOT in the high-waisted filmy gowns. Left to right, the sitters were born in 1724, 1779, 1801, and 1748. They are wearing more traditional-looking, darker, firmer-stays-underneath, gowns.

Museum of London

John Middleton with his family, ca. 1797 Museum of London 93.28

The same pattern plays out in this image of the artist’s colorman, John Middleton. The older servant is wearing a dark, older-style gown, while Middleton’s daughters are wearing the most fashion-forward clothes.

For anecdotal, quasi-experimental archaeological evidence, here’s my experience. I started out with solid, carapace-like ca. 1770 stays. (Mr S says touching me in them is like hugging a lobster, and then raps my ribs.) They’re not unpleasant, but they are confining, and even comforting. For an event at work, I made a pair of soft, semi-ribbed, transition stays with cups. They felt very strange after fully boned stays.

Long-line stays with cording and a busk? They felt better: more containment. It’s not just about my avoir du pois. It’s about the enveloping sense that the stays provide. The physical difference of the stays made me look at the Ege-Galt portrait again: what would I have felt comfortable and appropriate in, when styles changed radically?

Fashion plates, then as now, have bias in them. Know your self.

Here’s how I’d work it out:

Let’s say Kitty is 45 in 1812:   she was born in 1767, turned 20 in 1787: she grew up in full stays. She turned 30 in 1797, just in time to adopt shorter stays, but probably tending to longer line stays with corded bust gussets. Let’s say Kitty’s cousin is 55 in 1812. Born in 1757, she turned 40 in 1797. Chances are good she favored a longer stay with more boning, and maybe corded gussets, too.

1813, chapeau de velours, robe de Merino.

1813, chapeau de velours, robe de Merino.

What does that mean for her silhouette? It means that she lowers the waist of her gowns (You win again, gravity!) She also wears darker colors. Filmy gowns of the Regency era fashion plates aside, what did women wear for everyday? If you check Pinterest boards of fashion plates, or the various collections at NYPL, Claremont College, LAPL, and the Met, you can find Griselle, and that’s a help. Better yet, searching extant collections can turn up lovely-in-their-own-right gowns…with color!

The “real people” wore colors, and ajusted styles to their circumstances. I find the 19th U.S. 1812 site useful, not just for their studies of extant garments, but also for their presentations. The 1809 apron front gown from MHS is an excellent example of a non-filmy gown worn by a real woman. Caveat: it’s supposed to be Quaker. MHS has also has a nice set of watercolors online bny Anna Maria vonPhul, painting the town of Saint Louis in the first part of the 19th century. Her characters range in class and age, and reflect what she really saw.

Dolly Eyland, Alexander Keith, 1808; New Art Gallery Walsall P11/02

Dolly Eyland, Alexander Keith, 1808; New Art Gallery Walsall P11/02

We have a gown at work worn by Mrs John Brown (also, perhaps, a Quaker) in the late 18th or first quarter of the 19th century. While it has a higher waist and does mimic fashionable trends, it reminds me of the Quaker gowns at the MFA (I think it is earlier). But it’s brown! Practical, attractive in the right shades, brown. Which does at least come in a variety of shades, and can be thought of as an excuse for darker red…

Choosing a Gown

19 Tuesday Mar 2013

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Here’s a good question (I love questions): how do you choose which [historic example] to make?

The answer, as almost always: Research.

I start with a date. For Battle Road, the dress must be typical of New England in April, 1775 and appropriate for my impression or persona.  As I imagine my character from the past, she’s in her 40s, from the upstart town of Providence, married to a tradesman or craftsman. She has one child, and I haven’t thought about whether or not it’s one only or one surviving—too busy chasing the One Child Who Eats Like Ten.

Providence, 1790. John Fitch, RIHS Map #30

Providence, 1790. John Fitch, RIHS Map #30

Mrs Nathaniel Ellery, J S Copley, 1765, MFA Boston

Mrs Nathaniel Ellery, 1765, MFA Boston

Living in a port city means my character—we’ll call her Kitty—has access to new goods and ideas, a town where you can buy almost anything, but where staymakers are less common than in Newport.  It’s less refined than Newport, brassier, but competitive and striving and with plenty of money in some hands. Providence is where the Gaspee affair was plotted; in 1790, residents from around the world are recorded here—men from Java, living in Providence—it’s polyglot, mercantile, striving.

Given that Kitty is of the middling sort in a town, she can wear linen and wool and camblet and even some silk. Her clothes will be fashionable but not high style, “a thought behind the current moment,” as Lord Peter says of someone’s hat. What’s the purpose of this brown gown? Everyday wear, that, with accessories, can be dressed up, or dressed down. Eventually, who knows, I might manage a crewel work stomacher and nice linen cuff-ruffles for my shift, though a filthy apron, burned skirt, and a striped rough linen petticoat are more likely…

Mrs. James Otis (Mary Allyne Otis). JS Copley, ca. 1760. Wichita Art Museum

Mrs. James Otis ca. 1760. Wichita Art Museum

Making an everyday dress means not copying the silk dress from Williamsburg, and honestly, I couldn’t wear that wedding cake frosting on my chest, nor what Mrs. Otis has on her stomacher. How about that lovely Norwich wool gown? Well…almost. But I can’t sew that well, and haven’t got fabric that lovely, couldn’t afford it now, wouldn’t have had it then. I have brown wool. Have I seen Mrs. John Brown dressed like one of Copley’s women? Perhaps (if you take Copley as evidence, which you must do carefully.) Have I looked at the lovely brown silk satin and thought, I could do that. Possibly.

Black Heart Cherries, Paul Sandby, ca. 1759. YCBA B1975.3.206

Black Heart Cherries, Paul Sandby, ca. 1759. YCBA B1975.3.206

What we do know is that in New England, gowns are found more often than any other kind of garment (i.e. short gowns or jackets or riding habits). We know that wool is common, but that linen is found in towns and cities, wool more often in the country, and that the pretty, but expensive, cotton prints are popular. Open robes are more common earlier, and “hatchet” cuffs (pleated tubes) predominate. The style is worn by Copley’s women and Sandby’s girls, and it’s seen in images from 1760 on. That means it’s a good choice for a base style for any class level.

Here’s my process, more or less:

Determine the date, that sets the style.
1775 means stomacher front gown.

Determine the character, that sets the fabric and trims.
Kitty’s New England middling, so she’ll have a wool gown with robings but not trims, a plain stomacher, cuffs and not ruffles, and a matching petticoat.

Determine the event, that sets the accessories.
Battle Road is a hard one for me: as a woman, I shouldn’t be there, and as a Rhode Islander, I really shouldn’t be there. (RI militia were stopped at the border by the governor to prevent them joining Massachusetts men after news of the events at Lexington and Concord reached Rhode Island. They did get there eventually and participated in the siege of Boston, but you see what I mean…) So I have to construct a story for how to dress, and the best I can manage is going out, either to a shop or to pay a casual call on family. So what I plan is a matching petticoat, white neck handkerchief, clean check apron, and bonnet over a clean white cap. (This emphasis on clean should remind me to wash and iron a thing or two.)

That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it. For now, anyway, till I get a better idea.

More on Pockets

18 Monday Mar 2013

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If you think you don’t like military history, think again. A friend of mine is working on a French and Indian War 250th Anniversary project in Boston, and in the course of his research he got interested in a red velvet grenadier’s cap that I happen to be adjacent to from time to time.

UBM 2006-08-53

UBM 2006-08-53

One thing led to another, fortunately for him and not me, and he ended up calling on the National Army Museum in London. There a curator after my own heart distracted him with one of the coolest things I have ever seen: A Lady’s Pocket made from the decorative panel of a mitre cap, or as they call it, Mitre Pocket.

Here’s their description:

“Front section of a mitre cap made into a ladies pocket, 1760 (c); wool and cotton; on front the emblems for the 70th Regiment of Foot, all sewn as for the period, 1760 (c); back is made of brown cloth; front is bound with red cloth binding.

Note: Hanoverian white horse and ‘Nec Aspera Terrent’ used by 8th (The King’s) Regiment of Foot, later King’s (Liverpool Regiment), which might make the L an initial not a numeral and the XX a company number rather than part of the regimental numeral.”

Grenadier’s cap, 1833.1.1, RIHS

One of the most charming things about the email is that the woman at the NAM sent my friend an image of a gown and pocket, just so he’d be clear about how it would have been worn. He knew anyway, but I thought that was a very nice thing to do.

The cap we’re looking into is this one, said to have been picked up at Bunker Hill. Not for nothin’ (as the locals say), but this cap would make a lovely pocket.