Tag Archives: Making Things

What’s in your pocket?

01 Friday Mar 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Historical Sew Fortnightly, Making Things

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

A typical rough linen lining

My son’s pockets used to be full of acorns: he collected them at the bus stop, but I don’t know if it was because he planned to feed the squirrels, or if he thought he was a squirrel. Later, he moved on to rocks. Now, rocks, fish hooks, a pocket knife, change and a hankie fill the pockets of his 18th century breeches.

We’ve had some moments of unhappiness when things have gone missing from the pockets, though we’ve usually found them again. When you look at the contents list, you wonder how the linen stands up as well as it does.

There’s a clever way to upgrade pocket bags in menswear, and it’s authentic: leather bags, instead of linen. Original garments have leather bags, probably deerskin, and they’re deliciously soft and very durable. Stuff all the heavy, sharp things you want to in that pocket, and it will probably take it.

1895.4.3A-C

1895.4.3A-C

Based on a suit in the RIHS Collection, I decided to modify the pocket bags on the Young Mr’s new workman’s jacket-in-progress, which I plan to have finished by March 11 for HSF #5, Peasants and Pioneers.

Made of a heavy, rough-finished brown broadcloth (possibly manufactured in New England), both jacket and breeches pocket bags are made of deerskin.

Pocket bag in progress.

To recreate this, I took a trip to the auto parts store, and purchased a large chamois.  Instead of cutting the bags from linen, I cut them from the chamois and trimmed the seam allowances: chamois won’t ravel, so the seam won’t need to be folded over at the top.

A little fuzzy, but you get the idea

I backstitched the bag seam, and in general, I’m pleased with the way it has turned out. I think I’ll look into additional leather options, but otherwise, it seems like a fairly successful experiment.

The real test, of course, will be user testing. How many sharp, heavy things can the kid load in a pocket before it gives out?

Shoe Envy

21 Thursday Feb 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Suit, 1914-1918. MMA

Suit, 1914-1918. MMA

Yes, I am as shallow as stereotypes might suggest: I see shoes, I often want shoes. Even my current co-workers know about the red leather Cuban-heeledAdrienne Vittadini pumps I passed up when they were on post-Christmas sale at Marshall Field’s way back in the Dark Ages. They would have gone nicely with this red wool suit from the Met.

There’s a Steam Railway in Essex, CT and when we went on Staff Day, we were told the train car was from 1914, an excellent year for fashion–at least before that August. It seemed like a great plan: make 1914 clothes and ride the train again next fall, possibly carrying vintage luggage or a basket with a delicious picnic. Really, who’s in? Let’s book it!

The World War I era has fascinated me for a long time, from Vera Brittain to Siegfried Sassoon,  from Wobblies (perhaps because I grew up in Chicago) to war memorials, so the Steam Train Outing in Period Dress was particularly tempting, and I started a board for early 20th century costume. Downton Abbey fans will enjoy it, too, and while I tired of Swedish murders and finally caved to Downton’s charms, my film choice for the period is Testament of Youth.

Libby Hall Dog Photo from flickr

When I saw the American Duchess pre-order for Gibson shoes, I was sorely tempted. (They’re quite similar to what the lady on the right is wearing.) Fortunately, I am saved by my pedal extremities, for which my size is not yet available.

But what really holds me back is the thought of sewing the corset. It’s like the hip surgery I don’t want to have: I know how painful it is, and how inescapable. There is no way to properly dress in the past unless you do it from the skin out. But shoes–and those fantastic Edwardian hats–might just get me to make that corset. Shallow, isn’t it?

HSF # 3: Under it All: A shift, and a petticoat

11 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Historical Sew Fortnightly, Living History, Making Things

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Done at last: the shift. Plus bonus bonnet

Remember that shift I couldn’t finish in time for HSF # 2, UFO? I did get it finished for HSF # 3, and a bonus petticoat as well. They don’t go together, but in honor of the excessive amount of snow we got this weekend, they’re both white. The snow is also how they got done: nothing like snow days and travel bans to keep one home and sewing.

How ‘Bout Them Facts?

Fabric:

  • For the shift, lightweight linen, probably this one.
  • For the petticoat, one of a pair of Ikea curtains found on sale one day. The light-weight cotton appealed to me and suggested filmy late 18th century petticoat better than anything I had seen at a fabric store.

The petticoat, over another petticoat. It’s that sheer.

Back view (again with cat bowl)

Pattern:

Shift:

Year:

  • Shift: 1775-1783
  • Petticoat: 1795-1800

Notions: Both: Just thread. And some left over white cotton twill tape.

How historically accurate is it?

The shift is pretty close. The fabric is, well, not the linen they had, but it’s as fine as I could afford. It is entirely hand-sewn, and the sleeves have bands and tie closed.

The petticoat is also hand sewn, and uses a historic garment for a basis. (I also looked at bodiced petticoats at the Met.) However, it is made from a curtain and while I unpicked all the seams, the machine stitching holes remain. It gets the job done that I wanted it to do, though: fluffy white stuff.

Hours to complete:

Shift: Killer. Started it last August and have worked on it off and on since then. It went to so many events in the basket that it smelled like woodsmoke. Intensively completing it probably took 24 -30 hours, so it could be a 40+ hour shift. After a while I stop paying attention.

Petticoat: Like candy. Started it Saturday morning, finished it Sunday afternoon. Best guess, about 10 hours.

First worn:

Shift, probably April 13.

Petticoat? Probably Dress U.

Total cost:

No good way to know…the fabric was bought so long ago! The petticoat curtains, when not on sale, are $20, so $10, because I only used one. For the shift, it’s harder to say. I piece aggressively when cutting out, so I bought less than the pattern recommends. Remnants were used for the petticoat bodice and various linings, including the Curtain-Along robe currently underway.

Sense and Sensibility and Secretions

04 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Mended holes

I managed to mend my dress this weekend, motivated primarily by its odor and the desire to hang it up for an airing.  The holes at the hem were such that the patch had to be applied over the fabric and not behind. It tends to wiggle, but the mends are done and the dress is hung up to “air,” which means  it is “in the drafty front hall trying to make my coats smell like wood smoke, tallow, and animal secretions.”

I told you my feet were big.

The Robert Land shoes arrived on Saturday, along with a heavy box of wool. That’s tucked away for now (trousers and overalls come first, oh my) but not the boots. Ignore the size marked on the sole–that’s a vanity size–but note the smears. I believe that for the shoemaker, as for so many of us, the historic item is not done until you have bled upon it.

I should note here that the shoes really make ones feet look like the feet of women in fashion plates. Those trippy little poses with dainty toes are achievable in these, and the minute I find someone to photograph that, I will. It’s a very different foot experience from 18th century buckle shoes.

It’s not done until you’ve bled on it.

In a mark of solidarity, I bled on the ribbon that’s going on my new bonnet. I spent Saturday making, and unmaking, a remaking, a late 1810s bonnet. I’m still not quite satisfied with the shape, but have the silks and ribbons ready for when I convince myself to go ahead and stitch it up. Sunday I made a late 18th century/early 19th century bonnet. After bleeding on the trim, I finally had the sense to stop.

Feeling 1820ish

31 Thursday Jan 2013

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , ,

Walking Dress, 1820

Walking Dress, 1820

For no good reason, I’ve been feeling 1820ish. This is a huge distraction from my primary objectives, which for the short term are 1775, 1799, and points in between. The in-betweens depend on what unit Mr S is fielding with, and at which event. Monmouth, for example, is the 235th of the battle fought June 28,1778 in New Jersey. The Second Helping regiment was at that Battle, (I checked the order of battle and know from diaries like Jeremiah Greenman‘s) and that means that his regular old hunting frock (called the “fluffy shirt” by my Facebook friends) would do, if—and only if—he fields with the Second Helpings. If not, then it is another piece of work altogether. Major casualties at that engagement were from heatstroke, by the by, so it may be that wearing two layers of wool in New Jersey in June is not recommended by most physicians.

But I digress, yet again.

e14fa91f099434a95ac644c723e8cfaa

I am feeling 1820sish because Robert Land has, at long last, shipped my Regency Lady’s Boots. They should arrive by Saturday, and for having ordered them in mid-October for a mid-January event, we are actually on fairly normal Robert Land time. Sigh. I’d get mad, but the man’s shoes fit my pedal extremities, which really are colossal.

So the boots are on their way, in green, and while they won’t be exactly like these, they can be modified, with blue laces to begin with, and tape later. 

And that has led me to think about the obstreperous bonnets of the 1820s, like this fantastic quilted item from the MFA,

Quilted Bonnet, MFA

There are dresses at the V&A for which I have comparable fabric, and Spencers at the Met, and many fashion plates to delight (see the Pinterest board. I may not get any of these things made, but they’re fun to think about—especially the bonnets.

This is all supposed to be fun, isn’t it? It’s surely more fun than moving 18,240 books (some of them twice) which we did this past week at work.