Like Sew 18th Century, I’ve been enjoying preparing for the August 2nd event in Salem.
I’ve not ventured too much into Regency bonnets, or into straw, but I did flirt with a 1794 bonnet. Now I’ve got hats on the brain, and the time to fully indulge my whimsy (though it runs out Sunday).
From the fashion plates, one would almost say, Anything Goes. Of course it doesn’t, really, but you can get a sense of the exuberance of bonnet trimmings in the illustrations, and the lavish use of ribbons, bows, feathers and flowers.
Not all straw bonnets were lined– in fact, they often weren’t– but the lining protects the straw and the wearer’s face, and finishes this off in a way I like. Pleating in my condition was, ah, challenging, but I figure it was good for my brain to have the exercise. The lining in the brim is white taffeta, but I used white linen in the main crown or tip portion of the bonnet. Instead of bagging the lining, or trying to fit it, I mimicked what Mr B does in the hats he’s made for us. The gathered linen closes with a drawstring and required slightly less effort to fit into the hat.
The velvet ribbons came from Lunarain Designs on Etsy, the ties are taffeta ribbon from Taylor’s Etsy shop, and the straw bonnet form came from Regency Austentation. While the finish work takes time and concentration, I do enjoy both making up and trimming bonnets, and look forward to several more.
While pretty hats were pretty important parts of the milliner’s trade, many more things were sold in a millinery shop.
Colonial Williamsburg’s Margaret Hunter shop is probably the best-known living history milliner’s shop, and they provide a nice definition and explanation of the trade. But that’s never enough: what’s the primary source information for New England milliners?
While there is documentation of a Rhode Island milliner in the 1830s, and even a thesis on her work, Sew 18th Century and I are working on an earlier shop. I started with Rhode Island newspaper advertisements, because I like the sound of “lately arrived from Providence,” and because I understand that context.
The Rhode-Island American, December 25, 1810. III(20), p. 1
Here is Mrs. Sands, just returned from New York to Newport and vicinity, with a long list of things for sale, “selected from the latest European importations, an elegant assortment of the most fashionable MILLINERY.. viz,:–” (you have the love the punctuation, which is like the Chicago Manual of Style on New Republic crack)
What is she selling? In addition to what we think of as traditional millinery, the “variety of ladies’ Caps and Turbans, Straw, silk and velvet Hats and Bonnets; Straw Trimmings of various kinds,” listed at the bottom of the ad, Mrs. Sands carries:
Lace Shawls
Caps, Handkerchiefs and Whisks;
Infants’ Lace Caps
Plain and figured mull mull and jaconet
–Muslins, of a superior quality;
Handkerchiefs and Habit Shirts,
India and British book Muslins,
Plain and figured Lenos,
Long black, white and coloured Beaver and Kid Gloves;
Silk and cotton lace Armlets,
A large assortment of Ribbons,
Artificial Flowers, Featehrs and silver Wreaths
Tortoise Shell Combs of Various sizes;
Merino long Shawls
Worsted Tippets
Gentlemen’s Neck Pads
Whew! That’s a lot of stuff, and many different kinds of things, though all broadly in the ‘accessories’ or supplies range. I am delighted to see Habit Shirt on the list, as I buy my chemisettes, and I am intrigued by the range of handkerchiefs and by the Tortoise Shell combs, in part because I did not buy an assortment of them at a shop in western Rhode Island a month ago (kicks self).
Newport Mercury, December 11, 1811. L(2593), p.1
In the December 21, 1811 Newport Mercury, Mrs Sands again advertised her goods lately arrived from New York. This is a less exhaustive, but no less interesting, list. “Ladies elegant green velvet mantles, with and without spencers” is particularly intriguing for a Spencer fan, and not particularly clear to me.
November 21, 1812. Essex Register
In Salem, which is where we will be in August, Elizabeth Pierce advertises her “Fashionable Goods” for sale. She, too, has a long list of things she will sell, from Canton crapes to imitation shawls, hosiery, lace sleeves and armlets, one box of English flowers, and American Straw bonnets.
I suspect that just as retailers do today, milliners of the late 18th and early 19h century probably had an assortment of things designed to bring buyers in to shop (new bonnet styles), and small items to tempt them into impulse purchases (English flowers). You can’t buy a new bonnet every week, but you can refresh an old one.
Ah! Quelle antiquité!!! Oh! Quelle folie que la nouveauté … Engraving, 1797. 1892,0714.755 British Museum
Regency, Federal, Early Republic: we use these terms to cover (roughly) the period from 1790-1820, though technically the Regency period would mean only 1811-1820, when George IV served as Prince Regent, ruling for his incapacitated father, George III. In the United States, “Regency Costuming” is a bit of misnomer if you’re copying early American gowns, but it does serve as a handy short-hand we all tend to understand.
Grossly, the principles of dress are rooted in neo-classicism and republicanism rising from the American and French Revolutions. Specifically, we see a turning away from the heavily-boned, panniered, and formal gown styles to the looser, short-stayed, flowing, simpler gowns. The transition is summed up for me in this satirical print.
So, you’re no longer side-to-side wide, baby: you gotta have back.
How do you get back? There are a couple of perfectly authentic tricks that do not require you to stuff a cat into the back of your dress, though you can do that if you want. The combination I have found to work is two-part: a small, crescent-shaped pad, and the method of pleating. How you deploy the pad and the pleats will give you the silhouette you desire.
First, though: which silhouette? In really the 1790s, the silhouette is rounder than you might think. It really is a round gown.
Ann Frankland Lewis, 1793. LACMA
The Frail Sisters, 1794
To get that look, I use a small rump pad, bustle pad, or bum roll (call it what you like), which is stitched to the inside of my petticoat.
Pad from the inside
Pad from the outside
That’s the white IKEA curtain petticoat I made during the extended snow days of last year, and which I have worn with the red curtain-along open robe and under the petticoat and open robe for What Cheer Day. The pad is the same natural light-weight linen I use for a many gown linings, filled with bamboo stuffing. If I’d had wool on hand in the small hours of the morning I made this pad, I would have used it, but all I had was bamboo in the rush to finish up and have something to wear for a photo shoot.
The other key factors are pleating styles and fabric weight. Pleats can add lift, but in general, the lighter the fabric, the more lift a small pad will give you.
Double and triple box pleats, exterior view
Double and triple box pleats, interior view
I’m particularly fond of the pleats used for the gown shown on page 75 of Nancy Bradfield’s Costume in Detail. I’ve used this as a guide several times, and I am very pleased with the results. They do vary, of course, depending on fabric weight, fibre, and length. Stiffer cottons, like the Waverly Felicity of the curtain-along gown, will make a round shape; tropical weight wool does fairly well, also, but the most amazing 1790s rendition I have achieved to date is the light-weight India print cotton short gown.
On Cassandra
On me
Now that’s 1790s back. The bustle-like shape surprised (OK, shocked) me, but on the whole, I think I’m pleased. So there you are: pad, petticoat and pleats: that’s how you get back.
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