Tag Archives: bonnets

Flipping a Lid

12 Wednesday Jul 2017

Posted by in Clothing, Living History, Making Things

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

In a continuing effort to simultaneously destroy my hands and make all the bonnets, I set out recently to recreate a bonnet in the Met’s collection.

Silk Bonnet, British, ca. 1815. Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of the Brooklyn Museum, 2009; Designated Purchase Fund, 1983 2009.300.1613

It’s a curious thing, isn’t it, with that flipped-up brim? It looks more 1915 than 1815. But a little looking turned up this fashion plate:

Items 2 and 6, while not of silk, show the turned-up brim seen in this example. (To be fair, the original black and white photo suggests some confusion about the bonnet’s orientation.)

My version is admittedly imperfect, but a home-made interpretation that gets as close as I can (for now). I started with a lightweight buckram frame, to which I stitched slim round caning.

The brim is covered in two layers of the copper silk, and edged on the bottom side with the contrasting silk trim. the crown, or caul, is a simple tube gathered to a silk-covered buckram circle. In the absence of matching (or even sort-of-close) ribbon, my choices are to trim what’s left of the fabric and piece it together…. or start an online-ribbon hunt. At least the extant example has ribbon that’s close but not a match, giving me some leeway if I decide to save my hands for other projects and click instead of stitch.

Illuminating Lampshades

08 Monday Feb 2016

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

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

The more you look, the harder things get. That’s usually cause for celebration, but I’m starting to feel the pressure of more ideas and commitments than time. Here’s a question: in these undated Sandby watercolors, are the women wearing the bonnet colloquially called lampshade? What does lampshade look like from the side? My guess is that it looks a great deal like the headwear of the woman sitting on the wall. (Click the images to go to the Royal Collection site where you can enlarge them.)

Somerset House Gardens. Watercolor by Paul Sandby, 1750-1760. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

Somerset House Gardens. Watercolor by Paul Sandby, 1750-1760. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

So much good stuff in this image: the woman sitting on the wall, swinging her foot (take that, decorum); the black silk mantles; sleeve ruffles; gloves; pointy shoes; big skirts.

About those pointy shoes and big skirts….much as I would love for this image to be really relevant to my quest, we are looking at the 1750s. At least lampshade comes in to greater focus, both in date and in construction. Ooh, look! More lampshade.

The Ladies Waldegrave, 1760-1770. Watercolor by Paul Sandby Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

The Ladies Waldegrave, 1760-1770. Watercolor by Paul Sandby Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

The eldest of these young ladies was born in 1760 and the youngest in 1762, so we’re really close to 1770 here. They’re not only incredibly adorable (I know a quite darling and very young lady for whom I want to make one of these pretty much immediately), but they’re in the right time period. Most of the bonnet images in the Royal Collection seemed to be of young women or girls, until I happened upon this image, from 1768.

A carriage, with man and lady 1768. Watercolor by Paul Sandby. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

A carriage, with man and lady 1768. Watercolor by Paul Sandby. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

Well, “lady” might be pushing it where I’m concerned, but that image feels like the best solid evidence of bonnetness close to 1770.

The ascent to the Round Tower c.1770. Paul Sandby. Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014
Detail, The ascent to the Round Tower c.1770. Paul Sandby, Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

Here’s another ca. 1770 image. Way in the back, there’s a bonnet.

Can’t get enough of that black taffety? Have another.

A young girl, standing 1760-1780. Paul Sandby, Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

A young girl, standing 1760-1780. Paul Sandby, Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

Wonder what that might look like from the back? Voila.

A girl in a sunhat, seen from behind, 1760-1770. Paul Sandby, Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

A girl in a sunhat, seen from behind, 1760-1770. Paul Sandby, Royal Collection Trust/© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II 2014

This is by no means an exhaustive search, but thanks to a Facebook commenter, I’ve rediscovered the Royal Collection, and found later images of the peculiarly lamp-shade like headwear, and one image with a firm date of 1768.

In Book of Ages, Jill Lepore quotes a February 27, 1766 letter from Jane Franklin Mecom in Boston to Deborah Read Franklin in Philadelphia, regarding the clothing her brother Benjamin had shipped to her. “For ‘Each of us a Printed coten Gownd a quilted coat a bonnet.’ She continues about her bonnet, “is very suteable for me to were now being black and a Purple coten.” (Lepore, Book of Ages, p. 144)

What do you suppose that 1766 bonnet looks like? Do you think it looks more like lampshade, or these transitional forms? Probably lampshade, but the materials are intriguing: Purple cotton. Is that the brim lining? Jane Mecom is in mourning, so I’d expect the main body (brim and caul) of the bonnet to be black, and most likely taffeta, which turns up as a descriptor in the runaway ads.

Wide-brimmed, black taffeta bonnet, possibly lined in cotton, 1766-1768. But how long did bonnets last?*  What went into them– Buckram? Pasteboard? Coated pasteboard? Baleen? A combination of pasteboard and baleen?

I’ve got some ideas, and if the next winter storm doesn’t delay the mail too long, I might have experiments to conduct this weekend.

*Or any clothing? But that’s a post for another day.

Frivolous Friday: Flip your Lid

05 Friday Feb 2016

Posted by in Clothing, Frivolous Friday, History, Research

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Print. Drypoint by John Theodore Heins, Jr. 1747-1771. British Museum 1858,0417.362

Drypoint by John Theodore Heins, Jr. British Museum 1858,0417.362

Bonnets. Who doesn’t like them? They’re the cupcake of costuming, just enough sugar to be delicious, not enough trouble to count. I know I have far too many, they fall from the hall shelf nearly every time I get my coat.

But I started asking myself questions about bonnets when a friend asked me questions about bonnets: shape, color, and how they’re worn (rakish angle? pulled down low?).

We’re planning on going to an event in March, and I’ve been thinking about head wear, especially bonnets. Now that the question’s been asked, I don’t want to randomly cram black silk taffeta on my head and call it a day: I’m back to “don’t know mind.” Time to start looking. So far, I’ve searched the Tate, the British Museum, the National Portrait Gallery UK, the Lewis Walpole Library, the Yale Center for British Art, the Met,  the V&A, and the BBC’s Your Paintings site.

I started at the British Museum. Here are the results for a collections search using the term bonnet and the production dates 1765-1772.  Hmm. No classic black bonnet. Dammit, actually, because I really like mine.

Print made by James Caldwall, A Ladies Maid Purchasing a Leek, 1772, Line engraving and etching Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection. B1977.14.11105

James Caldwall, A Ladies Maid Purchasing a Leek, 1772, YCBA, B1977.14.11105

Yale Center for British Art, same search parameters. I know you know this print.

Man, this is a pain, right? Where are the bonnets? 1772 is actually too late for my purposes in this instance.

The Lewis Walpole Library Digital Collections lack a feature for limiting or sorting by date, but they tag bonnets in their prints. Still: no big black bonnets in early prints.

I’m starting to think it’s lampshade or saucer for the 1765-1770 period. You remember lampshade, don’t you? One of my post-operative slightly narcotized creations based in part on the Marquis of Granby (Relieving a Sick Soldier).

The Marquis of Granby (Relieving A Sick Soldier) Oil on canvas by Edward Penny after 1765 (c) Royal Academy of Arts

The Marquis of Granby (Relieving A Sick Soldier) Oil on canvas by Edward Penny after 1765 (c) Royal Academy of Arts

Lampshade seems pretty fashionable in 1760. There are more portraits at the National Portrait Gallery (UK), but bonnets are scarce in them, primarily, I suppose, because they are not indoor wear.

Anne (née Day), Lady Fenoulhet by Richard Purcell (Charles or Philip Corbutt), after Sir Joshua Reynolds, mezzotint, (1760) National Portrait Gallery UK D1939
Nelly O’Brien by Samuel Okey, after Sir Joshua Reynolds, mezzotint, circa 1765-1780 (circa 1762-1764) National Portrait Gallery UK D19911

Lady Fenoulhet is wearing a lampshade. Nelly O’Brien is wearing an interesting, more hat-like device. Her imprint is ca. 1765-1780, but other impressions are dated ca. 1760. The 1762-1764 seems plausible. But that’s still early for my purposes. The lampshade really is, too; Mrs Mary Smith of Portsmouth may be wearing one, but considering that the artist who drew this plate died in 1766, I think we can place this form in the 1750s to early 1760s. Lampshade is too early. The”Lady’s Maid buying a Leek” is too late.

Next, please.

Frivolous Friday: Silken Cone of Shame

29 Friday May 2015

Posted by in Clothing, Frivolous Friday, Research, Snark

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

La famille Anglaise à Paris.Plate 11 to 'London und Paris', x, 1802 [1803]. Explanatory text, pp. 90-5. Copy of No. 11 in 'Le Suprême Bon Ton' series, see BMSat 9957. An English John Bull stands stolidly full face with clasped hands, a grown daughter on his right arm, his wife on his left arm. With them are two tiny little girls and a grown-up son, also stolid. A Frenchman and a lady attitudinize elegantly on the left. 1802 Hand-coloured etching. British Museum 1856,0712.605

La famille Anglaise à Paris.Plate 11 to ‘London und Paris’, x, 1802 [1803]. Explanatory text, pp. 90-5. Copy of No. 11 in ‘Le Suprême Bon Ton’ series, see BMSat 9957. An English John Bull stands stolidly full face with clasped hands, a grown daughter on his right arm, his wife on his left arm. With them are two tiny little girls and a grown-up son, also stolid. A Frenchman and a lady attitudinize elegantly on the left. 1802 Hand-coloured etching. British Museum 1856,0712.605

Mr JS and I have amused ourselves of late not just with thimble chatter, but with this satirical print of the English family in Paris.

I’m not nearly as funny as Mr JS, who pointed out that the bonneted girl on the far right is “I literally can’t even right now.” I think of her as Lisa Simpson, 1803. That’s the voice I hear reading the line texted to me: “I just want to pull this chemise dress over my head and die. Could someone with yellow fever cough on me?”

The father is Homeresque in his proportions, and nearly as befuddled. The artist is clearly mocking this poor family, contrasted with the graceful Parisians at left, but only the two youngest are aware, hiding in their cones of shame.

That deep coal-scuttle-like bonnet is mocked in other engravings; it is probably closer to the actual form of Julia Bowen’s cold scoop of 1799 than my approximation this fall. Julia would surely have known the shaming purposes of those grandiose and over-sized calashes: “Go sit in your calash and think about what you’ve done!” Mr JS quipped.

Appropriately enough, the silk I ordered to make my own calash of shame has arrived at the post office. Dark green taffeta envy lined with the bright magenta of embarrassment: clothes are so emotional.

Half Robe or Jacket: How Do You Wear One?

10 Wednesday Sep 2014

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

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Half robe, 1790-1800. National Trust Inventory Number 1348749,

Half robe, 1790-1800.
National Trust Inventory Number 1348749,

What Cheer Day is coming, and I hate to miss an opportunity to make a new gown (despite having just made one, and despite needing to make some waistcoats and trousers for the event). While I lay awake last night, I pondered my options, and whether a half gown would be suitable.

Although I have concluded it probably is not, I was curious about how these should be worn. Where can you wear such a garment? Is it only suitable for at-home use?

This is the robe from Nancy Bradfield’s Costume in Detail, replicated by Koshka the Cat here, and approximately by me, here.

Since I will be a housekeeper again, I think a gown is more correct for me, but that doesn’t stop me thinking about half robes, and whilst scrolling images by year at the Yale Center for British Art, I found this by Cruikshank:

ladies in a lending library

Isaac Cruikshank, 1756–1810, British, The Lending Library, between 1800 and 1811, Watercolor, black ink and brown ink on medium, lightly textured, beige wove paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

There’s a lot to love in this image, even with its fuzzy “between 1800 and 1811” date. Not only do we get an array of reading material (Novels, Romance, Sermons, Tales, Voyages & Travels, Plays), we get costume tips and– special bonus– a dog gnawing its leg.

(If you are curious about some of the books in the Library at the John Brown House, check out this tumblr bibliography. I’ve been using it of late, and the representative genres are quite similar to what we see in the Cruikshank.)

We also get a chemisette on the lady at the counter, along with a very dashing hat, a fancy tiered necklace on the lady in pink, who also carries a green…umbrella? Parasol? With just a veil, that seems likelier than the longest reticule ever.

I like our Lady in a Half-Robe and her deep-brimmed bonnet showing curls at her brow. She and her companions show the range of white and not-white clothing seen in early 19th century fashion plates, and the range of head wear, too.

Undress for August, 1799. Museum of London

Undress for August, 1799. Museum of London

The last question I’m asking myself, though, is whether the yellow garment is a half-robe or a short pelisse or a jacket. And can you wear a half robe out of doors? And what did the ladies of the period call that garment?

In this fashion plate (featured by Bradfield on page 84, found by me at the Museum of London), the lady on the right is certainly wearing a short upper body garment, and I’d wager that she’s out of doors or headed that way, since she’s carrying a (green) parasol. Bradfield calls her garment a “jacket,” and until I can find the text of the Ladies’ Monthly Museum for August 1799, perhaps that is the term we should use instead.

While two images aren’t a lot of evidence, it does appear possible to wear a half-robe or jacket out of doors for informal visits in clement weather, and finding two is as good a reason as any to look for more.

The Milliners’ Shop

03 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Living History, Reenacting

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

One of the Milliners Stands in the Doorway

One of the Milliners Stands in the Doorway

On Saturday last, Sew 18th Century and I set up a milliners’ shop for the Salem Maritime Festival. This was a fun event made even better by the opportunity to set up shop in an actual shop!

We started working on this project in the Spring, and kept working on it almost until it was time to pack for the trip.

Some of our goods, with the delightful Miss A

Some of our goods, with the delightful Miss A

Milliners carried a wide range of goods designed to entice customers into the shop where they might purchase a new trim, ribbon or sash while admiring newer bonnet styles or fresh yard goods. Even in the 18th and 19th century, retailers new the value of repeat customers and impulse purchasing.

DSC_0238

Customers of all kinds came to our shop, some for retail trade, and some for wholesale. Mr JS is a weaver, and has offered plain and check linens by subscription– and I think our shop can do well referring custom to him. He was far more genteel than the sailors who came in– three times they visited, offering us money, but not for our bonnets!

Fresh from a privateer, Mr G and his crew mate stomped up the steps and made several untoward propositions, even daring to shake a bag of coin! Later they tried to entice a studious apprentice to join them, but fortunately he is a dutiful and serious lad with a thought for his future, and he declined their offer. At last Mr S was forced to confront these sailors on the waterfront– I think we shall soon require a committee of safety to patrol our streets and regulate the ruffians.

Mrs B examines some of our trims

Other customers shopped for trims and accessories. Mrs B is always fashionable, and one of our best customers. She sets a standard for refinement and style in our town that few can match.

cropped_Matt

Her husband is an officer in the Navy, and I fear sometimes he is startled by the bills– though he always pays, I think he may be surprised to see how fashionable we have become in Salem.

The bandbox maker, Ms M, set up in our shop as well. I do highly recommend her boxes as the finest made and best decorated that can be had. Bonnets and hats do not come cheap, and you do well to protect them.

In the late morning, I paid a call to Mrs B, and took tea. The coffee jelly was exquisite, molded in the shape of fish– very clever indeed– with marzipan fish and a rice pudding. It was a delight to all the senses, though sadly I had to hurry back to the shop. It is a great responsibility to keep a shop.

Shop window at the West India Goods Store

Shop window at the West India Goods Store

Thank you so much for visiting and for trading with us! Do come back soon, as we are certain to have new goods of interest to delight you.

Six Toiles, a Coat and a Bonnet

07 Monday Jul 2014

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

14557116394_73c2d5ea9f_zYes, six toiles.
That’s how many it took to get a coat pattern to fit Mr S the way I thought it should. I finally built the pattern around a sleeve and arm scye that I knew worked and suited the period. From there, I built out the back, altering the center back seam curve to suit Mr S’s figure. Arm scyes are still hard for me to figure out, although sleeves are often my favorite part of a garment. I like how flat pieces become three dimensional in a sleeve, and I enjoy setting sleeves– go figure.

Thanks to the three-day holiday weekend and sitting out a parade to pad stitch, I have a coat body.

I’m not thrilled about the size of the lapels, though I have found extant examples and fashion plates showing lapels this size, and sleeves, too. While I’ve pinned up the sleeves in the back, thinking there’s too much fabric there, I can also see from the images that the subject’s posture was not the best– and that was the moment when I realized that I really did want a mannequin for menswear as the subjects are hard to catch at any age, and variable in posture and wiggliness. They also object to being pinned accidentally.

But there is at least a coat body on the way to being done, so I took a break and made a bonnet, which is really the point here <ahem> milliner’s, not tailor’s, shop, after all.

IMG_1738

Pasteboard brim, blue silk taffeta lined with white silk taffeta (they had new things at the fabric store, very exciting!), trimmed with silk ribbon from Wm Booth and paper flowers from the V&A.

Now, more bonnets, two waistcoats, a gown, an exhibition, a lecture, and Stony Point are all that stand between me and the milliners’ shop in Salem…

Frivolous Friday: Just a Pretty Bonnet

06 Friday Jun 2014

Posted by in Clothing, Frivolous Friday, Living History, Making Things, Reenacting

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Like Sew 18th Century, I’ve been enjoying preparing for the August 2nd event in Salem.

I’ve not ventured too much into Regency bonnets, or into straw, but I did flirt with a 1794 bonnet. Now I’ve got hats on the brain, and the time to fully indulge my whimsy (though it runs out Sunday).

From the fashion plates, one would almost say, Anything Goes.  Of course it doesn’t, really, but you can get a sense of the exuberance of bonnet trimmings in the illustrations, and the lavish use of ribbons, bows, feathers and flowers.

Not all straw bonnets were lined– in fact, they often weren’t– but the lining protects the straw and the wearer’s face, and finishes this off in a way I like. Pleating in my condition was, ah, challenging, but I figure it was good for my brain to have the exercise. The lining in the brim is white taffeta, but I used white linen in the main crown or tip portion of the bonnet. Instead of bagging the lining, or trying to fit it, I mimicked what Mr B does in the hats he’s made for us. The gathered linen closes with a drawstring and required slightly less effort to fit into the hat.

The velvet ribbons came from Lunarain Designs on Etsy, the ties are taffeta ribbon from Taylor’s Etsy shop, and the straw bonnet form came from Regency Austentation. While the finish work takes time and concentration, I do enjoy both making up and trimming bonnets, and look forward to several more.