Tag Archives: sewing

I Love a Man in a Uniform

27 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, History, Reenacting

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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

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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.

Meet Cassandra

13 Tuesday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

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Cassandra’s my dress form, purchased on sale and with a free shipping coupon. If you don’t know the myth, Cassandra is the young woman with the gift of prophecy who was cursed by Apollo… so that no one believed her predictions. She is my measurements, but not quite my shape. Thanks to American Duchess for the “Bean Boob” idea, though my mother said, when we went shopping for her post-mastectomy prosthesis, “It feels like bags of lentils. If I’d known how much [the prosthesis] would cost, I’d have made my own bag of lentils.” My mother is a tiny blonde woman with a weakness for Airedale terriers and violent cartoons.

But Cassandra has proven very useful, dressed as she is in the newly chopped- and-dropped stays. She’s also sporting the bodice of what will be a bodiced petticoat, as soon as I can bring myself to cut into the beautiful wool, of which Burnley & Trowbridge has no more. I’ll want that wool petticoat for another weekend at Coggeshall Farm, coming up around the corner on December 1, and for which much must be sewn, including a long-sleeved wool dress based on Past Patterns’ Lewis and Clark dress.

I nearly got the bodice and sleeves all done on Monday, from cutting to sewing, while “watching” the original Swedish Wallander on Netflix. It’s more a process of reading than watching, with moments of clarity when I clearly recognize words. Thanks to my Dad for the connection with our Swedish roots…fish stew, Aquavit, and proper swearing.

By the time you set these sleevils the fourth or fifth time, they go pretty well. I have made this dress three times before, with two muslins along the way. The changes I made this time include cutting the sleeve as one piece and not three, lengthening the sleeves to the wrist, and adding a little over an inch to the bodice all the way around. Older ladies wore their waists lower than teenage girls, and though I like the way the L&C dress fits, I wanted a lower waist to suit my age, and the earlier year.

Stays, Nearly Mastered

10 Saturday Nov 2012

Posted by in Clothing, Making Things

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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.

The Calm is Now

29 Monday Oct 2012

Posted by in Events

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Closed hurricane barrier at Fox Point

It’s the waiting that’s hard, that and listening to the wind. We’re likely to be fine up here on the hill. Mr S has taken the car to the ground-floor satellite office so he can get a server off the floor…really, I’d expect health care offices to do better on disaster prep than a museum, but seemingly not…but with the car gone, I have only to worry about tree limbs falling on the house. Most came down in Irene, but the maple is old and sick and needs to come down.

What to do when schools and work are closed? Sew, and teach the Young Mr grammar. He needs to cram on commas, and write a paragraph.

A burn test revealed that the only wool (or part-wool) fabric of which I have yardage enough to make a gown will not be safe to wear around fire. Time to rethink…and ride out the storm.