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Kitty Calash

~ Confessions of a Known Bonnet-Wearer

Kitty Calash

Tag Archives: interpretation

Men, Women, and Work

07 Wednesday Oct 2015

Posted by kittycalash in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

authenticity, common people, Events, history, interpretation, Reenacting, women's history, women's work

After a late afternoon meeting that left me raw from the way men speak over, interrupt, and dismiss women, I began to think again about a conversation I’d had with a friend at lunch about women’s roles at living history events, primarily military, but also militia, so let’s call them Gun Shows.

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What do women do at the Gun Shows? They cook, for one thing, tied to camp fires. That’s at least a little better than the spinning that can happen, but it’s still not always right. I think a lot about how we’re not truly representing the ways that armies moved, slept, provisioned themselves, and how that affects the roles that women, children, and the (forgive me ) Invalid Corps might play. Yes, there are options: laundry, petty sutlering. There are women doing those things and doing them well, which is fantastic. When I think about how I might complement that, I end up thinking about women even naughtier than Bridget– and I think Bridget must have been very naughty indeed.

Even when you move away from military events, let us say to militia events, similar segregation occurs: women cook and wash dishes, men fire weapons. It just makes me tired, this notion of women forever being pendant to a gun, dependent on housework. It leaves me wondering what else I can do.

Perhaps more Gaskell than Austen, here

Perhaps more Gaskell than Austen, here

That’s easier in a civilian context. Women ran boarding houses, had small shops, ran needlework and boarding schools, worked as seamstresses, soap makers, tailoresses, milliners, mantua makers, painters and silhouette cutters. None of those things belong in a camp, and I begin to think that unless I can figure out a feminist interpretation of women’s lives of drudgery, I will have to give up the Gun Shows completely. And yes, for those of you who know me, that will be a natural transition, won’t it?

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Experiencing Eastfield Village

20 Sunday Sep 2015

Posted by kittycalash in 1830s, Events, Living History, Reenacting

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

10th Massachusetts, 1830s, authenticity, common people, domestic life, Eastfield Village, Federal style, historic houses, historic interiors, interpretation, women's history, women's work

The Young Mr on site.

The Young Mr on site.

Mr Hiwell, the Young Mr and I ventured out to Nassau, New York this weekend to be part of Founders Day Celebration at Eastfield Village. The gents were part of the 1833 militia muster, while I traveled out intending to interpret tailoring with Mr JS, and to provide meals for the militia.

It’s an interesting assemblage of buildings, and we were pretty curious about what the site and the experience would be like. While OSV and Genesee are also assembled villages, they’re museums, with different missions and guidelines; they’re also larger, with electricity and flush toilets for visitors and volunteers alike. That means they’re lovely, but not nearly as immersive as the pitch-dark privy experience.

The back of the Benjamin Culver house, or, our dining room for dinner.

The back of the Benjamin Culver house, or, our dining room for dinner.

Wear all the patterns possible, please.

Wear all the patterns possible, please.

There was a lot to consider at Eastfield, but I’m tired from driving back and will stick to the simple things for now.

I was incredibly fortunate to have a bed—indeed, the entire 1787 Benjamin Culver house—to myself for sleeping. Friday night, after changing into period clothes, we went up to the Yellow Tavern to eat our supper (pasties brought from home, with hard cider for Mr JS and myself). The candle lit taproom was cozy, and I understand from Mr JS that the sleeping quarters upstairs were even cozier.

We cooked our meals in the Yellow Tavern kitchen, and ate sometimes in the taproom, and sometimes standing in the kitchen, except for dinner, which was served picnic style on the grass behind the Culver House. (Saturday supper was provided by Eastfield Village and prepared by Neil DiMarino with able help; that deserves a post all its own.)

Cozy is as cozy does.

Cozy is as cozy does.

Much of time was spent on women’s work, interpreting daily tasks to a stream of visitors travelling through the house from front door to back, and sometimes upstream. The scullery—for want of a better word—had a soapstone sink which drained through the wall, which made dish washing pretty plush, and provided entertainment for all who cared to witness it. No chickens were present, but from washing dishes at Coggeshall Farm, chickens would have enjoyed the ground beneath that window drain.

The view from the scullery: not bad, really.

The view from the scullery: not bad, really.

There are always curious questions, from “Is this a house?” in a tone of wonderment, to “Where did you get the water?”

Gentle reader: these stumped me, briefly, until I was able to gather my wits enough to reply, “Yes, it’s a house, built in 1787,” and to assure the visitor that people had, in fact, managed to live in it. The water question was somewhat more perplexing.

I started with, “Well, I got this from the hose, but they would have had a well,” when the visitor stopped me. “No, I mean, how did you get it hot?”

The kettle had been over the fire in what would be the kitchen room where Mr JS and I were set up to sew, and the fire was still producing heat, albeit from coals. Then I realized she had not been among the clump of people watching me remove the kettle from the crane so that I could pour hot water into my basins. I pointed to the kettle, and said, “Over the fire.”

Fire hot.

Fire hot.

It’s hard: there’s so much we take from granted in our own daily 21st-century lives, let alone what we become accustomed to when we inhabit the past. Interpreting between the two worlds, things can be lost in translation.

I’m always curious about what I’ll learn when I travel to a different century, and I think what I learned, again, was that I find it hard to find a way to interpret women’s lives and work in the past that does not reinforce stereotypes of “life was hard” and “roles were constrained.” Enough! I tried explaining the greater freedom some women enjoyed in the early Federal era, in contrast to the pre-Revolution and post- Great Awakening eras, but that wasn’t entirely successful, and would you believe that story from a woman washing dishes?

What I may really have learned is that I’ve done enough time in the kitchen and the scullery; I’d rather be the tavern keeper than the cook or scullery maid. Women were in business, and while never on the scale of partnerships like Brown & Francis, women as merchants, tavern keepers, landlords, and, yes, tailoresses, are underrepresented. It’s easier to talk down the scale than it is to talk up the scale from the washbasin to the shop or tavern, so it’s time to leave the wash basins aside for a bit.

Done with dishes for now, thank you.

Done with dishes for now, thank you.

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The Myth of Perfection

02 Wednesday Sep 2015

Posted by kittycalash in Art Rant, Clothing, History, Living History, Philosophy, Reenacting, Research

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

18th century, 18th century clothing, authenticity, Clothing, historical clothing, interpretation, paintings

Ain’t nothin’ perfect.

Jackie’s got good points, and although I think they are slightly tangential to where I thought I was going on Monday, let’s pick them up.

Completely 1819 to represent 1819? My standard reply to pretty much every question is: It depends. Who are you, where are you, what are you doing? Middle class or higher bride? You are so 1819 it’s scary, from your skin out, head to toe. Lower class? You’ve altered your best dress, if not made a new one, and refreshed your accessories.

The Kaunitz Sisters (Leopoldine, Caroline, and Ferdinandine), graphite on laid paper by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1818. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1998.21
The Kaunitz Sisters (Leopoldine, Caroline, and Ferdinandine), graphite on laid paper by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1818. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1998.21
Costume Parisien, 1818.
Costume Parisien, 1818.

Look, folks: part of our problem is that we forget that the people in the past had the same covetous, jealous hearts that we have. They had wants and yearnings, for each other, for new bonnets, for velocipedes and overcoats. They were just as interested in impressing each other as we are, even if they sublimated desire into poetic images of greater obscurity than James Brown ever used.

I thought about this notion of mixed up times for clothing as I stood on a landing at work yesterday. Skin out, here’s what I wore on 1 September 2015:

  • Black Natori sports bra, purchased in Boston on January 10, 2014 (I saw my surgeon so I remember.)
  • White cotton tank top, label gone, acquired ca. 2013, possibly from Target
  • Blue and white striped cotton 3/4 sleeve J. Crew blouse, 2006
  • Black Nike undershorts, 2010
  • Lucky brand jeans, August, 2015
  • Red suede belt with brass buckle, ca. 2004
  • Red suede Naya oxfords, late winter, 2014

The oldest thing was the belt, followed by the blouse. The most stylistically determinate item is probably the jeans, since waistline height and cut of the legs fix trouser/jeans style. So, what could this mean for us, when we dress for the past?

Let’s start with dressing for the American Revolutionary War period, 1775-1783. What you wear depends of course on who and where you are; here I am in New England, wishing I was middling sorts.

Detail, Mrs Richard Skinner, oil on canvas by John Singleton Copley, 1772. MFA Boston, 06.2428

Detail, Mrs Richard Skinner, oil on canvas by John Singleton Copley, 1772. MFA Boston, 06.242

If I wear an open-front stomacher gown in 1775, will I still feel comfortable in that in 1783, when the ladies of means around me have switched to closed-front gowns? Or will I feel like I’m wearing bell bottoms and a macrame vest to high school, while the cool girls are wearing pegged Guess jeans and Fair Isle sweaters? (Not what happened to me, but you follow my point). Think how much American fashion changed between 1975 and 1983, and while you will surely see pieces carried over– watches, headbands, socks, Tretorn sneakers– they will be primarily small pieces, accessories, and not main garments.

Lady Williams and Child, oil on canvas by Ralph Earl, 1783. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 06.179

Lady Williams and Child, oil on canvas by Ralph Earl, 1783. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 06.17

That’s really want I think we want to get at: Yes, people mixed up clothes, wore favorite things, wore things out. But then as now, they wanted to be stylish. The more care you put into imagining yourself in the past, really being that person, the more convincing you’ll be. You won’t be perfect, and authenticity is as unachievable as objective truth, but you will be closer to real, and yes, even the public will know.

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The Real Thing

31 Monday Aug 2015

Posted by kittycalash in Art Rant, personal, Philosophy

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

art, art history, authenticity, interpretation, Jacob Lawrence, Meret Oppenheim

Talking with a friend about authenticity and realness, I remembered the moment when I really understood the power of the real thing.¹

Meret Oppenheim Object Paris, 1936 Museum of Modern Art, NY. 130.1946.a-c

Meret Oppenheim
Object
Paris, 1936
Museum of Modern Art, NY. 130.1946.a-c

Longer ago than I care to admit, I went to MoMA with my dad, and saw, up as close as you could get to a glass case, Meret Oppenheim’s fur lined tea cup, Object, or Luncheon in Fur. 

I’d seen slides, and illustrations in books, but only when I saw the object did I really understand what it was about. Unfortunately, even having seen Duchamp’s “Bride Stripped Bare” in person, I still don’t get that piece. Such is life.

So what is it about the fur-lined tea cup in person that makes it so different? What is it about Jacob Lawrence’s Migration series that makes it different? Or Pollock, for that matter? Why is the real thing so ineluctable?

 JACOB LAWRENCE (1917–2000) The Migration of the Negro, Panel no. 1, 1940-1941. The Phillips Collection, Acquired 1942 © The Estate of Gwendolyn Knight Lawrence / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.


JACOB LAWRENCE (1917–2000)
The Migration of the Negro, Panel no. 1, 1940-1941. The Phillips Collection, Acquired 1942 © The Estate of Gwendolyn Knight Lawrence / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

I don’t know, really; what I do know is that it matters. I’ve held a transparency of The Migration of the Negro, Panel no. 1, in my hand before, and it’s not as good as seeing the marks Lawrence put down in gouache. I’ve held a Robert Capa print in my hand, marked on the back with publication notes from the 1940s and it still gives me goosebumps to think of it, to think of him in the water off Normandy on D-Day. Existential ambiguity of the wrecked emulsion be damned: those images, held in your hand, are more moving than you can imagine from seeing them published in Life or any monograph.

FRANCE. Normandy. June 6th, 1944. US troops assault Omaha Beach during the D-Day landings.

FRANCE. Normandy. June 6th, 1944. US troops assault Omaha Beach during the D-Day landings.BOB194404CW00003/ICP586(PAR121451)© Robert Capa © International Center of Photography/Magnum Photos

I’ve had people say to me recently that “it doesn’t matter,” that no body will know if they’re wearing 1774-1783 clothes at a 1790 event, and I disagree strongly and thoroughly. It does matter. The mattering is the whole reason museums exist. It’s why we go to see our favorite music performed instead of sitting home with Victrola or iPod listening to the crackle of Bessie Smith² or album-produced Billy Bragg. Listening at home puts us at a remove, polishes the roughness and steps back from immediacy.

To say that the image in the book or the not-really-right clothes are the same at the real thing does a disservice to ourselves and to the public. Are we really suggesting that audiences for art or history are that stupid? Or that we are so unmoved ourselves that it just doesn’t matter?

I’m too old for nihilism. Bring on the real. Let’s get it right, because it does matter. I know when it’s real, and so do you.

 

______________

¹Sadly, this goes through my head with the phrase “the real thing.” Curse you, Douglas Coupland, for capturing my generation’s fixation on pop references.
²Yes, I know she’s dead, go with me here.

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Hobby Misogyny

04 Tuesday Aug 2015

Posted by kittycalash in Living History, Reenacting, Research

≈ 29 Comments

Tags

18th century clothes, authenticity, Clothing, common dress, Costume, interpretation, Reenacting

What do you see and remember at events? At every event I go to, I see a range of impressions, or historic expressions.

unknown artist, 18th century, The Encampment in the Museum Garden, 1783, Aquatint, hand-colored, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

unknown artist, 18th century, The Encampment in the Museum Garden, 1783, Aquatint, hand-colored, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

There are Good things: a chintz bedgown that’s actually becoming; a checked suit I wish the kid would wear; the Ugly Dog Coat Mr S wants, the umbrella I want to make just for its lines.

The Bad and the Ugly are present, too.

Drawstring shift necks, makeup, infernal bodices, Birkenstocks, sofa-size prints… “light” troops with dining flies, tables, and tin roasters. Stores tents packed with plastic packaging. White “trews” baggy as painters pants, breeches reaching below the knee, haversacks as man-purses, tube socks, sneakers, peacock feathers on women’s hats, girls with undressed hair and no caps.

What is the meaning of these bodices and tube socks: are they the disease, or a symptom? I think they’re a symptom, telling us about a deeper problem.

If “authenticity” is a journey and not a destination, everyone starts this journey at a different point, and some people are more sophisticated consumers of knowledge than others. Hard as it is to fathom, some people—even with decades of time in this— don’t know any better. I’ve encountered half-correctly dressed wives of men who’ve been to Battle Road who didn’t even know workshops are available to help them with stays and gowns. The ignorance is not always willful, even if it seems that way.

Why are some women such a mish-mash of reasonably accurate jacket with acceptable petticoat worn without stays, a drawstring shift, an OK cap, modern glasses, and a purse?

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, Washerwomen, between 1790 and 1805, Graphite and brown wash on moderately thick, cream, rough laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Paul Sandby RA, 1731–1809, British, Washerwomen, between 1790 and 1805, Graphite and brown wash on moderately thick, cream, rough laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Do they not see the return on investment for stays and a gown and shoes and a cap and glasses and no makeup? Perhaps they don’t feel pretty when they venture out of their normal realm, and they’re only visiting, anyway. Is this the reason for the half-baked costume approach?

Or could it be that the unit commanders have set no standards for the women? That they don’t consider the women to really be unit members? Or that the women don’t consider themselves members? That they don’t matter the way the muskets do?

Could some women’s lack of authenticity—and by “authenticity” here I mean “period appropriate clothing”—be rooted in the phallocentric/musket-centric culture of the hobby? In some units, men and women seem to engage in parallel play, like toddlers, where the men field in the foreground, and the women cook in the background (women on the field is an issue I will not take up here). The men are in charge, making the decisions: the women, and what they wear, appear not to matter, and are nearly invisible. I think this is rooted in basic misogyny and the riptide of the hobby’s boys-club attitude.

If misogyny is part of why women perpetuate inauthentic impressions, then having women invested in their units and roles, with more research and more care, might be threatening to men who want weekends for themselves and their ‘war games.’ But I believe that without a significant investment by women, and by units in women’s roles, this hobby won’t survive, and it’ll be a lot less fun and educational for everyone.

That means, of course, that I think units will have to allow women a voice, and develop standards for women as well as men. Those units with the farthest to “travel,” authenticity-wise, will need to build up stores of wearable, authentic women’s clothing to loan, or include women’s workshops in their schedules. If they don’t want women and/or families participating, then that has to be clear, too, and women who do want to participate will have create their own civilian units. (I don’t have solutions for all of these issues.)

attributed to Hubert-François Gravelot, 1699–1773, French, active in Britain (1733–1745), Matrimonial Fisticuffs, with a Portrait of the Pugilist John Broughton, in the Background, undated, Watercolor, pen and black ink and graphite on medium, slightly textured, beige laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

attributed to Hubert-François Gravelot, 1699–1773, French, active in Britain (1733–1745), Matrimonial Fisticuffs, with a Portrait of the Pugilist John Broughton, in the Background, undated, Watercolor, pen and black ink and graphite on medium, slightly textured, beige laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

When the men around them don’t value or encourage their participation, and when units do not have men and women as equal members with clear standards for both, I think you end up with poor impressions—particularly women—and camps full of crap. These are symptoms of a larger problem of misogyny and silence.

Anthony Highmore, 1719–1799, British, Group of Three Ladies, undated, Watercolor, pen and brown ink, and graphite on medium, blued white, moderately textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

Anthony Highmore, 1719–1799, British, Group of Three Ladies, undated, Watercolor, pen and brown ink, and graphite on medium, blued white, moderately textured laid paper, Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection

In recent years there have been calls for greater attention to standards for women by unit commanders. But I think that we should go further, and call for greater participation of women in real leadership roles in the hobby. That’s when you will see real change, not just in clothing, but in presentations.

And that is where I think the future of this hobby lies: in recognizing that living history events are mobile museums, not just mobile monuments.

To get more complete, inclusive and, I think, authentic, experiences will take more inclusive leadership structures, from unit memberships to the boards of umbrella organizations. That would be one small step towards bringing leadership and management into line with the modern world and current best practices in management for cultural and historic organizations. Because that is what the umbrella organizations have become. The boys’ historic shooting clubs have grown up, and it’s time to let the girls play for real, and to value women’s roles past and present.

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