Tag Archives: Federal style

More Color, Brighter Color

12 Wednesday Apr 2017

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

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Not the side I ended up using.

“More colah! brightah colah!” was the refrain of one of the printmaking professors at my undergrad program (hilariously, I met him again last summer here in the Ocean State, and nothing much had changed). This is useful advice for someone stuck in the doldrums of late winter New England. It was late January when I got some disappointing news and set off to cure my blues at the fabric store. There’s a bodice in the plaid underway for another silk gown (eventually to be sold, I think; how many can one have?), but I grew dissatisfied with the fabric. Too pale. I wanted More Color. Brighter Color.

Lucky for me, it was on sale. Fabric Mart Fabrics has been good for me in the past, and a silk sale was a success this time, too. The bright and bold dress in the FIT collection was my inspiration, and I dearly hoped I would not manage to cut the cross-barred pattern to match, so of course I pretty much did.

My tried-and-true pattern based on the 1815 roller print gown at Genesee Country Village was the base pattern for the silk gown: I know how to adjust it so that I can get dressed on my own, drawstrings the saving grace for the solitary woman who wants a back-closing gown.

I didn’t alter my pattern enough to really capture that neckline, because, in truth, I wanted to get this done! I did concede to trim, of course, and while conducting Drunk Tailor on a (fruitless for him) tour of regional fabric stores, found, at last, the trim I wanted, at the Fabric Place Basement in Natick. Good thing, too, because I was convinced that we were going to die in the traffic backup on whatever that road is in Framingham that creeps in at petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time. But no, we lived, after I was fed, and trim was found, saving the day. (Seriously, I don’t think I have ever been on that stretch between Natick and Framingham and not been in a traffic jam since I first encountered it in 1988.)

But the dress, that’s the point. It’s done, at least enough to wear, though I did not buy enough trim for the hem and will have to trek back up to Natick for another few yards with which I can trim the hem. A lovely young woman named Tanya did get a photo of me in full regalia, down to the gloves (yes! leather opera gloves!) but I haven’t found it yet out on the interwebs, so my hotel room selfies must suffice.

What I find most satisfying– aside from the dancing– is how versatile a very simple dress pattern can be. Fabric choices, trims, hem length, minor sleeve alterations, and accessories make this one pattern work both for a day dress and a dancing dress.

Circles and Lines

10 Monday Apr 2017

Posted by in Events, personal, Research

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Merrymaking at a Wayside Inn, watercolor on paper by John Lewis Krimmel. 1811-1813. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 42.95.12

By some miracle, I did not have the Polecats in my head all weekend, despite spending most of Saturday only dancing. It has been some time since I danced (February’s adventure notwithstanding) and after two hip replacements, my Giant son is correct: I’m still re-training my muscles. My feet remember more than my hips do, but at least some of my muscles remember!

The Commonwealth Vintage Dancers Regency Weekend was this past weekend, and while I could only manage Saturday (Sundays are for chores when you’re expecting houseguests for Easter), I had a wonderful time and sincerely hope I can retain what I was taught. The company was very friendly and quite genteel, though I can report that I did experience a variety of partners, and, in one unfortunate case, became so confused I had to step out of the dance entirely. (Mixed rhythms and mixed-up steps became far too jumbled in my poor brain.)

The Five Positions, from An Analysis of Country Dancing, T. Wilson, 1811.

The entire day reminded me strongly of being in a novel, or, as Drunk Tailor said on hearing the description, a movie. Let us merely note that some gentleman are more enthusiastic appreciators of music than others, and that a partner can be left feeling a bit flung about in some of the figures that involve the mouliner. My rusty memories of French came in handy: mouliner and mill connect easily enough for me (seen here, in Prince Kutusoff) and the Boulanger made much more sense when I connected it to mixing bread dough. Hey– whatever gets you through the set without stepping on your own, or anyone else’s feet!

I’d like to think I will remember something of this business the next time I get to dance, whenever that may be. The patterns can be found on line in manuals (as in this description of Sir Roger de Coverly) with some occasional, bearable, videos— and, as always, resources close to home.

Next time: the dress. Until then, I’m posting more on Instagram.

Becoming an Exhibit Prop

21 Tuesday Mar 2017

Posted by in Museums

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We all have those Hamlet-like moments, don’t we?
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable | Seem to me all the uses of this world!

But in this case, I can attest to being and not merely feeling flat: lo, I am cutout exhibition furniture.

Thanks to Mr B’s casting call on behalf of the New-York Historical Society, a number of friends and acquaintances and I are now part of the scenery of the new exhibition, Saving Washington, up through July 30.

The behind the scenes of being a prop is pretty entertaining.

Mr H
Steaming my shawl

The changeable green-red sari gown was made for this photo shoot; we were asked to wear strong colors, and since the exhibit was meant to represent one of Dolley Madison’s “squeezes,” dressing up was in order– and hard for me to do, since most of my gowns are day dresses at best.

I started this November 22, and carried it on airplanes several times.

November 22: the madness begins
Sleeve salvation

The sleeves appeared to be a complete failure at first, until I figured out I could pleat the design to form a smaller, graphic band at the bottom. Sometimes I start without knowing how a thing will turn out…including most days when I get out of bed.

December 9 completion level: wearable.

At least it was finished enough to wear to the photoshoot, and it appeared again, with a real hem and a ribbon to keep it on, in Salem last month. I’m pleased enough with the color, and how well it doesn’t go with most things to call this a success– and finished!

In situ.

A Saturday in Salem : Jane Austen Ball

17 Friday Feb 2017

Posted by in Clothing, Events, History, personal

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Closure: green silk satin ribbon.

Closure: green silk satin ribbon.

With many thanks to the Quintessential Clothes Pen, I was not dancing with myself Saturday last at the Jane Austen Ball in Salem. I was there on a bit of a whim, knowing that the ball happened in February and looking for something to do on a winter weekend– and, as it happened, I actually had a dress to wear. Of course, it wasn’t finished until Friday night, although I had worn it in December for a photoshoot.

Dressed for the weather: I only seem to wear this pelisse in February.

Dressed for the weather: I only seem to wear this pelisse in February.

In the past year+, I’ve been trying to do more and regret less, which seems a bit contradictory: if you do more, might you regret more of what you do? The trick for me, especially in dealing with my baseline high-anxiety self, is to do more things that seem scary but are actually fun.* That’s how I found myself traveling up to Salem between snowstorms to stay in a tiny little room in a historic hotel. It’s a pretty quick ninety-minute trip on a good day, but I know myself well enough now that staying overnight is the safer, less-stressful option for an excursion like this.

Salem on a snowy Saturday was busy, streets crowded with people as I walked to the old Town Hall, feeling very much like a character in a novel. (Having just finished Remarkable Creatures, the scenes of Elizabeth Philpot walking in alone London came to mind as I did attract some attention in my pelisse and bonnet.)

Old Town Hall, Salem, MA
Rustic Dance After a Sleigh Ride, 1830. William Sidney Mount MFA Boston 48.458

The Town Hall was crowded; I arrived a little late, as dancing was beginning under patient and direct tutelage, so I had the pleasure of watching several dances before I joined in. While not everyone was wearing early-Federal/Regency clothing, the crowd still provided an excellent sense of the social mixing and festivity of a scene from the past.

Unforgivable hotel room selfie to record the dress

Unforgivable hotel room selfie to record the dress

Joining in was even better, to be in the swirl of people and skirts, to pay attention to my feet– my shoes were a little slicker than I would like– and to count the rhythm of the music. While I spent years in ballet class, it is true that those years were surpassed by years in mosh pits and on dance floors of questionable clubs. Country dances made me think of four-dimensional math, with the patterns made by the combinations of active and helper couples, the reversals of direction, and the changing positions of partners: it was like being a living fractal.

*With some exceptions including rollercoasters and sky diving.

Mrs Pabodie, I presume?

16 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in Clothing, History, Living History, Museums, Pabodie Project

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Mrs William (Jane) Pabodie. oil on canvas, 1813. RIHS 1970.60.2

Mrs William (Jane) Pabodie. oil on canvas, 1813. RIHS 1970.60.2

Remember Mrs Pabodie? She appeared a week ago today in Providence after an intense sewing effort left your author with numb fingers. The process was as straightforward as these things ever are, manipulating fabrics to do your bidding once you think you have the right materials.

It took more rounds of white muslins from Burnley and Trowbridge than I care to count, and a variety of book muslins from Wm Booth Draper, just for the chemisette and cap. The laces came from Farmhouse Fabrics in the most expensive small package I’ve yet ordered that did not contain antique jewelry.

Mrs Pabodie attempts to remember when she was born (1771). Photo by J. D. Kay

Mrs Pabodie attempts to remember when she was born (1771). Photo by J. D. Kay

The gown is a wool and silk blend remnant from Wm Booth Draper, just enough to make a gown (even at my height) though I admit the front hem will need some piecing or a ruffle to give it the proper length. Still, the thing more or less works, though as I compare the details to the original painting, I admit we’re still in beta.

Impressed from Newport– or nearly so– Low Spark makes his Providence debut. Photo by J.D. Kay
Reverend Hitchcock, hoping against hope that the tailor will one day finish his fine silk waistcoat. Photo by J. D. Kay
Sissieretta Jones extols the beauties of Paris– and pearls. Photo by J. D. Kay

I was joined by three friends from different eras (because you know me: if it’s not didactic, we’re not doing it): a sailor who on the run from a Newport press gang in 1765; Reverend Enos Hitchcock of the Beneficient Congregational Church in 1785; and Sissieretta Jones, soprano of Providence, around 1880. Each of the characters described their lives and their clothing, and I will admit that the Annual Meeting audience may not have been fully prepared for some of what they heard– I’m not certain they had ever considered how apt “balancing a sheep on my head” might be in describing Reverend Hitchcock’s wig.

Mrs Pabodie points out East Side landmarks to a visitor examining the theatre curtain backdrop painted around 1810. Photo by J. D. Kay

Mrs Pabodie points out East Side landmarks to a visitor examining the theatre curtain backdrop painted around 1810. Photo by J. D. Kay

In the end, they were entertained, and may even have learned something, as we celebrated 2016’s interpretive theme, Fashioning Rhode Island.