Tag Archives: Salem Maritime Festival

Milliner’s Shop Redux: A big, visual project

10 Thursday Aug 2017

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

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

The complete ensemble, under supervision.

When I first moved to Providence, I lived in Fox Point, a slightly fringy-dingy neighborhood of Portuguese and Cape Verdean immigrants and their descendants that was cheap enough for students (and even today remains imperfectly gentrified: Providence, I love you dearly). As my then-boyfriend and I walked my dog, we passed a man whom I later came to know as the Block Captain, who remarked to my boyfriend, “Beeg wooman.” Any project I take on is, therefore, big, since I am nearly six feet tall.

Although I have schemes for a Big New Century Project (a complete 1585 ensemble), I’ll take a shortcut instead to my current enthusiasm and write about last weekend and the 1811 fashion plate reconstruction, which happily includes one of my favorite visual sources, early 19th century fashion plates — thanks to Scene in the Past’s albums and Ackemann’s Repository on the Internet Archive.

Display window
and counter

I’ve written about the canezou plate before, but not since I (mostly) completed it on the trip up to Salem. This 1811 plate appealed to me first because of the bonnet (checks!) and the necklace (lapis!), but then realized that the canezou and its petticoat were within my ability to complete.

The ensemble also seemed suitable for a summer day in Salem, which, while usually more humid than hot, calls for cool, lightweight, clothing that can withstand a potentially sweat-drenched day without melting.

Gentlemen lounging on the street

From start to finish was three weeks: canezou, bodiced petticoat, necklace, bonnet, and shoe trims, all a vernacular rendition of a high-fashion image, adapted to the materials at hand– though I did have to order bonnet taffeta from India, which arrived just in time– much faster than I could have expected in 1811 Salem!

Setting up the shop for the fourth time was as much fun as the first time, and a little easier, given the practice I’ve had. I shared the shop with a tailor, Mr. B, of hat-making renown which made for a nice contrast interpreting men’s and women’s fashions and purchasing habits.

Packing up hat stands, bonnets, accessories, and furniture and driving them 470 miles is a kind of madness, but interpreting women in business and early shopping is one of my favorite historical enterprises.

Au courant? Un canezou

02 Wednesday Aug 2017

Posted by in Clothing, Living History, Research

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Collier de Lapis. Canezou a Manche[?]

This.

Because, August (or Aôut). The Salem Maritime Festival is nearly upon us, so there’s a flurry of bonnet and accessory and other making happening chez Calash as there usually is in summer. It’s one of my favorite things to do, and this year I was asked if the millinery setup could be more of a demonstration.

That’s a kind of relief, actually, as it allows me to bring bonnets from multiple years in a variety of levels of completion, which allows me the luxury of talking about evolving styles and a variety of construction methods. Whether or not I’ll manage a drawn bonnet is still up in the air; it’s a lot of hand sewing for someone with carpal tunnel.*

Because any trip to Salem affords me the opportunity to join the mercantile class, I like to take the opportunity to make something new and non-working class when I go up there. This year, I was taken with the canezou. What’s a milliner to do, but stay as up-to-date as possible? What the heck is a canezou?

Well….roughly, from the French and English costume history books, the canezou is a short, Spencer-like garment, often in white, lightweight cotton, worn over another garment. The canezou seen here clearly has sleeves, and the plate is dated 1811, giving the lie to the wikipedia’s assertion that it’s circa 1835. (The later evolutions have become more scarf or fichu-like, but are again worn over other gowns- though apparently it enjoys a brief time as the cambric blouse worn with a riding habit. And then there’s another definition, by another fashion historian, in which the canezou is described as being like a man’s shirt.

Well, that’s all cleared up then….

With this information in hand, and the fashion plate before me, I perused the contents of the Strategic Fabric Reserve, and lit upon those popular Ikea curtains which have appeared here before as a gown and as a petticoat and now as a canezou.

I modified a Spencer pattern for the base lining of white cotton, and then draped, stroke gathered, and stitched the curtain fabric to form the floofy bodice. The lace on the cap sleeves is reclaimed from a late 19th century negligee lurking in Drunk Tailor’s collection of usable old fabrics, while the lace at the bottom was reclaimed from an antique petticoat before I picked it up in Sturbridge, MA a few years ago.

To complete this, a bodiced petticoat with an embroidered hem (machine embroidered, of fabric I may have picked up from a remnant table in Pawtucket, RI), a pair of trimmed shoes, a necklace (here of sapphire blue stones, unless I can teach myself hand-knotting by Friday), and a bonnet of blue and white check silk that arrived just in time from India. Five new items in two or three weeks: the price of fashion is slightly mad.

*Hand-sewing everything has, at last, caught up with me. I find soaking my hands in cold water helpful, as well as sleeping in those super attractive hand braces. Imma need some surgery, but for now, braces, Aspercreme, and ice water must do.

Mendy Monday

26 Tuesday Jul 2016

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

Best not to be shiftless, so mending was in order. I knew this day would come, and soon, and after doing the post-Genesee wash, the moment had arrived for this shift.

Simple, classic patching. I hadn’t expected to wear a hole in a shift quite this soon, but four years of wear whilst working and sweating have taken their toll.

It’s a toss up, now that it’s mended, as to whether or not I’ll shorten the sleeves. They’re too short for some of my gowns, but fine for others. Ideally, I’d make a second shift for this time period (early Federal) and third for the late 18th century. I’m somewhat concerned because I have taken a notion to make a new dress for Salem, which is just around the corner.

IMG_7481

Now, it’s not this dress– and this may be a pelisse, after all– but I’ve become pretty obsessed with this image, and decided, what with it being summer and all, to finally cave in and make a white cotton gown.

IMG_7460

~thanks to Mrs B for the image~

This is madness, of course, because I am not someone who doesn’t spill on her clothes or happily and recklessly carry strawberry-eating babies. White. Sheer. Really sheer. I don’t know what possessed me, but once I had the idea and the image to inspire me, I could not shake the notion of a white cotton gown for summer. Perhaps the recent heat is to blame: thin, white cotton seemed cool and refreshing. We’ll see how that goes in a little more than a week. Until then, bright light and fine stitches keep me busy.

The Milliners’ Shop

03 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by in Clothing, Events, Living History, Reenacting

≈ 10 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.