Tag Archives: Clothing

The Line of Beauty

29 Thursday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, History

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

In considering menswear, I found this suit at the Met. Incredibly plain, it reminds me of classic Balenciaga: all about fabric and drape. It also reminded me of Hogarth’s Analysis of Beauty, and the serpentine line.

You could also call it the Ogee curve, and it’s found in the serpentine legs of 18th century tables, and does not come from, “Oh gee, that soldier’s got nice legs.”

In this variation on the theme, the contrasting lining emphasizes the lapel line, but the overall effect is less elegant. It’s about materials, too, not just cut. There’s so much to learn just by looking, really looking, at clothes and paintings from the past. There are subtleties we miss as we rush past, and miss because we haven’t read enough to understand what we’re being told.

So much hides in plain sight, because we don’t see the world the way the tailors and painters and engravers saw it. I don’t pretend to have the key to that world, but it’s worth looking for, mostly just by looking.

I Love a Man in a Uniform

27 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, History, Reenacting

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Maybe it’s about the musket?

But that’s not my man, that’s Brian. Nice uniform, though, right? Blue broadcloth with white facings and pewter buttons, a cap with a red cockade, fitted white overalls: what’s not to like? (Making one, that’s what, and one is in my future.)

After getting Mr S’s workman’s jacket to the brink of buttons and buttonholes, we looked at it and said, “It’s so…plain. Where are the contrast facings? The tape and the lace? Should it be so much, well, one color?” Peacocks suddenly made sense.

It’s not about the musket. It’s about the buttons. And the breeches.

I spend my 18th century time with men in uniforms, and I forget the role of line, fit, and color in determining style. I see it in paintings, and in lovely coats in museums, but one thing we don’t have a lot of are paintings of middling and lower men who look stylish. Of course not! They couldn’t afford paintings, and style–refinement at least–was associated with class and gentility. There was a coded language, and clothes said a lot about the wearer.

So what did uniforms say about men, and how much could civilians, especially women, read the symbols? Hessians, with their tall brass hats, and grenadiers, with bearskins, are dressed not just to impress, but to overwhelm, visually. At Fort Lee last year, my mother was distinctly impressed by, and a little frighted of, the Hessians and Jaegers: the uniforms worked as intended.

Facings and frocks: Rhode Island stands out

Light Infantry troops wanted to set themselves apart, and used their cut-down caps and short jackets to achieve immediate visual distinction.

Working men used what they had: checkered or printed handkerchiefs, patterned waistcoats, and better buttons were some of the ways they dressed up their clothes. I know brass buttons will be in my sewing box soon, the sooner the better, say the men I sew for.

Waistcoat Weekend

26 Monday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ Comments Off on Waistcoat Weekend

Tags

, ,

My clothes are finished, and there was just enough left from a petticoat to cut the fronts, welts, facings and collar of a waistcoat for the Young Mr. It will have to be backed with the grey broadcloth of his father’s coat, which was brought to the brink of buttonholes Sunday evening.

Tonight, trousers to cut out, and a progress check-in for Mr S’s waistcoat. Menswear has such different construction techniques, stay tape and diagonal basting, such structure! I was better at those techniques 20 years ago, and now I don’t know what I’ve done with the books on couture techniques.

It’s a great quantity of buttonholes, really, so better not to count (24 + 18 + 10= 52) on the way to the 1,000 that Henry Cooke prescribes for proficiency. Will I ever get there? I will at least get better at them, or so I hope. When these garments are done, I think I will have done 100 in the past 12 months.

No progress photos: just newly acquired mirrors (drive across CT and back as fast as you can!),  hung in place.

The Wind From the Hudson

20 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Events

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

Looking East from Fort Lee Historic Park

The cold on the Palisades was not as bitter this past weekend as it was last year; there must have been at least an 8 degree (F) difference. There was a rumour of 37F/2C but I think it was about 45-50F (7-10C). Where there was sun, it was quite pleasant, as the wind was gentle.

So what did we wear? Mr S and the Young Mr had long underwear under their uniforms (white so it would not show under the overalls), and long stockings, too; the Young Mr has a wool waistcoat, and is still so wiggly that I don’t know how much he feels the cold yet.

Layers are your friend

I wore my 1780s wool jacket, two linen petticoats and a wool petticoat, my still-unfaced cloak, and wool stockings, and was comfortable enough at nooning to take off my cloak. It’s a long cloak, based on one in the collection at work, but blue broadcloth and not drab (the extant cloak is drab, but both drab or dun and blue appear in RI runaway ads).

So what’s the key to keeping warm? Then, as now, (or now dressing as then) it does seem to be layers. The wool petticoat makes an effective barrier against cold, and the wool jacket is warm. I tried patterning mitts, but my hands are so large relative to my wrists that I tore the muslins at the thumb or had very baggy wrists.

These chintz mitts from the Met (C.I.39.13.185a–d) seem to have a similar tendency to width at the wrist, and might work better than the pair I was following from Costume Close Up. It was late and I was tired, so a fresh start might work to keep my hands warm.

Post-war women with long sleeves would have been able to avoid that chill wind on the forearms, and I look forward to wearing my new long-sleeved wool dress.

Stays, Nearly Mastered

10 Saturday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

That is to say, alterations are complete to the first pair of early 19th century stays, and now they work: I can sit down, and the dresses look the way they should. Click here for a Pinterest board of stays for visual references for mid- to late-18th and early 19th century stays.

The first pair of early 19th century stays I tried to make using Past Patterns’ Transition Stay pattern, all by hand. They were beautiful, but beyond redemption and failed to fit despite muslins and multiple alterations. The pattern is based on the  Connecticut Historical Society stays at left; search for 1963.42.4 in the CHS online catalog.

V&A, T.57-1948

I sent the sad remains of the transition stays to Johnston, and made a muslin from the Past Patterns’ Corded Stay pattern, which is very similar to these stays at the V&A. I do recommend using a sewing machine for speed, and a long hook for pulling the cording, though your mileage may vary.

While the finished stays looked good and appeared to fit, there were certain… idiosyncrasies… that concerned me. Among them was the tendency of the busk to pop up and attempt to greet my chin whenever I sat down. In general, even laced up snug, the garment seemed determined to ride up with wear.

So I tried them on again yesterday with a different, shorter busk slipped in between the the shift and the stays: the busk stayed put. While the stays were about 15″ long, my lap-to-bust length when seated is about 13″. So I undid the binding top and bottom, shortened the cup gussets, shortened the bottom edge, tacked it down, re-bound the stays, and, when Mr S got home,  handed him the busk to cut down.  I tried the whole contraption on again: Success! The busk stayed  down, the breasts stayed up, and we seem to have a winner. It was thanks to the Oregon Regency Society’s page on fitting stays that I reached the conclusion that I needed to reduce the gusset length. I knew from comparing my stays to my friend’s stays that I needed to reduce overall length, because she has to add at least 1.5 to 2 inches to patterns I use…and her stays were the same length as mine. So if they were the right length for her, they were wrong, so wrong, for me.

Next up: the red dress, no train.

Where did I screw up? Probably in not testing the muslin with a busk, and in not testing the muslin by sitting down with the busk. As long as I remained standing, the unaltered stays were fine. So, however you plan to wear your garment, test your muslin. We’re not dress forms: we move and lift, push and pull, crawl under and over things. You will need to test your muslin out by moving, not just standing in front of the mirror. This will be more challenging for some (Going to plow in stays? Maybe you need to push a chair around the house in a muslin) but at least sit down, bend over, and test a muslin the way you would a pair of jeans in a dressing room. If you do already, good for you! If not, you’ve been warned. Failure to squirm will eventually catch up with you.