Museum Madness and Things to Make

After a day at the Met on Friday, I went to work at my own museum on Monday. We moved paintings, rounded up miniatures for photography, and packed an ax for transport.

Glass at the Met. I hate this stuff.

On Tuesday, I took the MBTA up to Boston to deliver the ax (tomahawk, throwing ax, ax comma belt in Chenhall) to another museum, at the Old State House. I think this show will be very nice, and I had the pleasure of meeting someone whose wife I know through the interwebs: behold the power of the interwebs, and the small size of the reenacting community. Also, my state.)

Then, because I cannot get enough of this stuff, I took the Green line over to the MFA. By now you’re thinking, Kitty, really? How many museums do you need to visit in five days? Should we get you help? But the thing is, objects get me really stoked. Paintings, sculpture, heck, even glass– and I hate glass– make me pretty happy.

1998.96, overdress or tunic. MFA Boston

I’d just been to the MFA in July, so this trip was to visit some friends among the Copleys and Greenwoods and Blackburns. But I also know that the textiles have to rotate often, and there are dedicated mannequins in the Art of the Americas Wing.  My reward for a return trip? This lovely over dress or tunic.

I love the fabric, and thought immediately of Quinn’s Tree Gown. Hmm. As you can imagine, I will be hot on the trail of something like this fabric as soon as I am done with the menswear on my list. (There is a lot of menswear, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do some real thinking and research in preparation for this tunic…which is all I can do for now.)

It does cross over in the front, and the floral motifs line up across the layers.

There are more photos of the overdress in the MFA set on flickr, and I have a lot more thinking to do about this tunic. It does have a cross-over front, which I like, but the lacing is really striking. This may take another trip to the MFA with a better camera.

Oversleeves, cross front, lacing, diamond-shape piece in the back like a keystone…there’s a lot of detail, and lot to love (and eventually curse while making) in this tunic.

The 1763 Project

Doll, 1763. V&A, T19.36, T19P.36
Doll, 1763. V&A, T19.36, T19P.36

Sweet, right? Who wouldn’t want to look (or at least dress–those pupils suggest something untoward, chemically) like this doll? And she’s 1763. Of course, my friend DC didn’t get the grant he applied for, so he has to try again.

Still, it seems the event will go ahead and I am stumbling on under the impression that I will have a chance to make myself something lovely for August. Of course, that comes only after I make the regimental menswear, so why am I typing and not backstitching? Because after a while, it’s just plain dull. Plus, doll! Printed cotton! Lightweight and lovely! And look: a hairstyle I can manage: birds’ nest.

Nice Petticoat.
Nice Petticoat.

What I like about this doll are her details. (The better written description is on the V&A website, but the better photos are at VADS.) She’s wearing a sacque (known also as a sack-back robe or a robe a la Francaise) and matching petticoat, a green silk quilted petticoat, a white linen petticoat, and a pocket that matches her gown.

The blue silk of her stomacher is used as trim on her sleeves, which are ornamented with flounces. Hallie Larkin goes into this well on her blog post about Changes in Cuffs. And that’s what stops me: the fine linen and the lace.

An actual reproduction, no less.
An actual reproduction, no less.

The gown itself, even a sacque, seems like something I can manage. (And yes, this is but one more piece of cotton sacque evidence.) A very similar fabric is available and if this sells out, there are variations on the theme. The blue silk stomacher can be managed: I have taffeta sources, and from making bonnets have learned the basics of the serpentine designs. I could make that. But those flounces–what about those?

Here she is from the V&A, ca. 1760, T.19-1936
Here she is from the V&A, ca. 1760, T.19-1936

Here’s the V&A description: “lace and cotton elbow ruffles.” Hmm. Cotton, perhaps that I can find in a fine, sheer weave. But the lace?

The more I think about this lovely gown, about the materials, and who would wear it, the more I think I’m better off sticking with lightweight wool and Sandby’s cherry seller...

I love a good challenge, but the lads need regimentals and their own 1763 apparel. Sandby’s woman wears a gown I’ve made before, so construction screw-ups will be fewer time will be shorter. And at least we can all wear whatever I make for various other celebrations and riots. New England had them in abundance in the 1760s and 1770s.

Happy Anniversary

The studious fair, Lewis Walpole Digital Library. 767.00.00.12+
The studious fair, Lewis Walpole Digital Library. 767.00.00.12+

WordPress was kind enough to point out that I’ve been blogging here for a year. Thanks, WordPress. Almost 200 posts later, what do I think? More to the point, what do you think? You can tell me in the comments.

Here’s what I think:

Pretty dresses are showing up on costume blogs as people get ready for Dress U, and I feel so very not shiny.  I feel the way I felt when my mother made a pretty blue and white and pink roller print robe à la Française for a classmate to wear as Mrs. Washington or Mrs. Jefferson in the 5th grade play in which I played Sam Adams.

And I look back at what I’ve written, and I realize that I’m never going to have that pretty dress until I figure out who is wearing that dress, and why. It’s about the research, about the narrative, about the documentation. It’s a curse, but it keeps me writing.

That, and some desire to be as busy as I can manage to be. Even with classes to prep for Dress U in four weeks, two men to outfit for Monmouth in six weeks, I still signed up for a weekly Wednesday night writing workshop this month.

What can I say? Life is good. Thanks for reading. Here’s to staying interesting for another year.

Details. All in the Details.

Detail, pair of pockets. Gallery of Costume, Platt Hall, Manchester City Galleries. MCAG.1922.2150

This image is from the fantastic VADS site‘s  gallery of pockets. I need new pockets, or a pocket update and overhaul, so I went looking for inspiration.

Child's Pocket, 1720-1760. RIHS 1985.1.9.
Child’s Pocket, 1720-1760. RIHS 1985.1.9.

This is a dangerous path to go down if you are as unskilled with a crewel needle as I am.

Sew18thCentury can do it– so, sew, lovely. Me…well, everything I knew about embroidery I learned as a child, and promptly forgot with puberty. So my skills remain appropriate for reproducing this, from a Rhode Island collection. The pocket is child-sized, at 14 inches, and the embroidery has a crabbed, angry look, as if the girl would much rather have been outside, chasing her dog or brother.  I can relate, at least to the dog part.

My copy, on the clearance-bin frame.
My copy, on the clearance-bin frame.

I  made a pattern of the embroidery, traced it onto linen, and started working on dredging up those long-forgotten skills. As a child, I had a sewing or embroidery book, but what I remember most about the projects I made was how far their finished form was from what I had envisioned.

Jane, and the Oldest Inhabitant
Jane, and the Oldest Inhabitant

This is not an uncommon experience for children; my son has certainly experienced this, and even adults are subject to it. I think the best rendition of it, sewing-wise, is Eleanor Estes’ portrayal in The Middle Moffat of Jane Moffat attempting to make a “brocated bag” for Mama’s Christmas present.

The image of Jane sewing or crocheting under a tree while talking to Cranbury’s Oldest Inhabitant, a Civil War veteran, sums up every reenactment I’ve ever been part of… but I digress.

DSC_0283
A detail. Sigh. I know, practice, but…

My embroidery stitches lack a lot, but most of what they lack is practice–and that’s what makes reproducing that RIHS pocket a perfect project for me. Pockets were “sampler” projects, and suitable for girls to learn on. This combines plain sewing with embroidery, and ends up as something useful and authentic, so what more can I ask?

Pocket, single, embroidered. Snowshill Costume Collection, National Trust (UK). mid 1700s. SNO1452
Pocket, single, embroidered. Snowshill Costume Collection, National Trust (UK). mid 1700s. SNO1452

The VADS site has tons of images to inspire me, and with practice, someday I could manage something as beautiful as this. I need only make sure that it fits my time period and station–and for some events it will, but for most, the plain pocket or the crabbed-stitch embroidered pocket, are probably far more appropriate.