Mad for Plaid and Patches

Yesterday, I went to visit another collection, this time at the University of Rhode Island. I don’t have thoughts about replicating coats- they didn’t ask me any hard questions about making coats, they just let me work– but I did see a lot of amazing garments.

I’m focused primarily on men’s clothing at the moment, largely because I’m stumbling towards an exhibit or a paper or maybe a better blog post, and because thus far I have not found any examples of women’s garments made from locallly-woven checks or stripes in local collections.*

What I concentrated on at URI were two very lovely examples of the kinds of clothing worn by everyday people in Rhode Island and Southeastern Connecticut, both collected by a woman who lived in the village of Lafayette on the Victory Highway. Mrs Muriel Buckley was born in Exeter, RI in 1884, and started collecting clothing of all kinds in 1900, when she married; by the mid-1950s, she was known as a “one woman historical society,” according to a Providence Journal article, and hosted parties where she and her guests dressed up in the clothes and cooked colonial recipes in early ironware. **

As my late landlady’s husband used to say, “Cut the cackle, let’s eat some grub.”***

Blue and white striped linen fall-front trousers ca. 1830, URI 1967.13.16

11967.13.16, trousers ca 1830. Gift of Mrs Muriel Buckley, URI Textile Collection.
1967.13.16, trousers ca 1830. Gift of Mrs Muriel Buckley, URI Textile Collection.

These are pretty interesting, with about a dozen patches of various sizes and fabrics. The main fabric is a blue and white stripe linen of 42 threads per inch. The fall-fronts have pockets built into the bearers, with a welt cut on the grain but set on the bias for a snazzy little graphic moment. The button holes appear to be slightly rounded at the ends in a way that siuggests intent and helps confirm the date. The buttons are not all the same design, but are all four-holed bone buttons. The trousers have a 31″ waistband, a 19.5″ rise, and a 26″ inseam.

The other truly fabulous piece I saw was a coat in a blue, white and orange check “Stonington Plaid” ca. 1800, URI 1967.13.17.

This is a double-breasted, self-faced tail coat with self-covered buttons and notch collar lapels, false pocket flaps on coat body and pockets in the tails and left breast. The unlined, folded-back cuffs are tacked to the sleeve and may have been shortened. The overall length at CB is 36″, sleeve length is 25.5″ and the chest is about 34″.

1967.13.17, "Stonington Plaid" linen check coat, 1800-1810. Gift of Mrs Muriel Buckley, URI Textiles Collection.
1967.13.17, “Stonington Plaid” linen check coat, 1800-1810. Gift of Mrs Muriel Buckley, URI Textiles Collection.

When I opened this coat and looked at the seams, I was struck by the construction method, not because it was different, but because it was so typical. (I also peeked inside two wool broadcloth coats in the cupboard: same construction as the woolen coats I’d seen before.) It;’s nice to see conventions in action, and recognize what you’re seeing.

The collar on this coat has some little anomalies suggesting a less-experienced hand, or perhaps a foray into a new type of collar; judging by the pad stitching, I’m more inclined to guess less experienced hand, though not home manufacture. Someday I’ll track down the South County and eastern CT tailor’s books…

1967.13.17, back view of "Stonington Plaid" checked linen coat. Gift of Mrs Muriel Buckley, URI Textiles Collection.
1967.13.17, back view of “Stonington Plaid” checked linen coat. Gift of Mrs Muriel Buckley, URI Textiles Collection.

In the meantime, what amazing clothes and fabulous fabrics! The past looks nothing like what we imagine unless we can look past fashion plate elegance to the riot of stripes and checks and prints that must have existed in almost every village and town in Rhode Island.

*With the exception of a pocket at Mystic Seaport and a gown at the Smithsonian: accessory in the first case and very not local in the second case, making in hard to study in a day trip.

**Having palpitations yet? Your heart will really race if I can track down the photos to prove all this. In other news, I know a couple of gentlemen who are currently “one person historical societies.” The collecting instinct in wired into some folks.

***Jack and Harriet: she survived the 1938 Hurricane, and their overweight black-and-white polydactyl cat, Bonnie, followed them around the corner to church every Sunday.

Material Girl

Yes, I am a material girl. The Strategic Fabric Reserve has grown beyond the allotted cupboards into plastic containers hidden under living room furniture and my desk. Reader, it’s true: I have a fabric problem.

But here’s the thing: you want to work with the best materials you can afford, and that means fabric, scissors, needles, thread, even measuring tapes. As a carpenter I know once said, “Life’s short; buy a good hammer.”

Just enough!
Just enough!

I’m currently working with a remnant of wool camblet from a friend’s stash, left over from making someone else’s coat. There’s just enough to make me a Spencer (with a little perfectly-accurate cuff piecing), and I’m finding that running the needle through the wool is like a knife through butter. Baby, it’s smooth.

And that’s the thing: working with better materials is actually easier than working with lesser goods. Maybe you’re buying from the remnant table (I know I do): just buy the best stuff you can afford, and as much of it as you afford.*

It’s taken me a while to learn this, and I’ll confess: I still have IKEA furniture, because I still have a teenager living at home, and three insufferable cats. But we swap out as we find affordable better things, because they are more beautiful and more pleasing.

Shears: former fabric and current fabric.
Shears: former fabric and current fabric.

You can do the same with your sewing (or cooking or carpentry or cat husbandry) tools. My former fabric shears finally gave up after 15 years; I replaced them with better Ginghers (thank goodness for coupons) and downgraded the formerly “best” scissors to pattern-cutting duty. I have small thread scissors for home, and scissors for events that I’ll shed fewer tears over if I lose, because event sewing is often mending and not garment construction.

Second best for events; best for home.
Second best for events; best for home.

Buy it once: that’s an ideal that can be hard to achieve in reenacting. Research moves on, everybody makes mistakes**, but you can never go wrong buying the best you can afford. Ease of use and finished beauty will make it worthwhile.

*They laughed when I bought that striped velvet from Wm Booth at Bennington– until they saw the originals I had in mind.Quirky can be right and even amazing, but cheap requires caution.

**I hear this in my head as the refrain from a New Order song at least once a day. And then I sigh. But it’s true, and worth taking to heart without beating yourself up over it. You will survive whatever unfortunate yardage or pink-handled, blistered-inducing scissors you now regret. There’s always the office Yankee Swap or Goodwill.

Make All the Coats

As far as I know, that’s not an internet meme yet, but it might as well be. It’s meme in my head, and that’s what counts.

While I should be thinking about the probability of Spencer-wearing in 1800 Rhode Island, I got distracted during a hunt for head wraps and found this lovely little water color.

Boy in a Beaver Hat. Watercolor by Anna Maria von Phul, 1818. MHS 1957.158.27
Boy in a Beaver Hat. Watercolor by Anna Maria von Phul, 1818. MHS 1957.158.27

How lovely is that coat? The Young Mr already has a semblance of that hat and trouser (admittedly too short) so the coat and a matelasse waistcoat would be just the ticket to recreate this image. He’ll bring his own sulky look to the party.

I’m trying to figure out what the coat would be made of, and what I’m willing to pay for a coat that will be grown out of rapidly. In the meantime, though, what a lovely image.

Back to coat dreams…and plots.

Frivolous Friday: The Romps

The Romps, by William Redmore Biggs. (c) Leeds Museums and Galleries (book); Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation
The Romps, by William Redmore Biggs.
(c) Leeds Museums and Galleries

What Cheer Day is around the corner, and while we won’t have the delight of the babies this time, when browsing the BBC’s Your Paintings site, I found this painting by William Redmore Biggs. It pretty well captures the level of activity I’d like to bring to the museum–or at least a level just short of spilled ink.

As always, I’m looking for what working women wore, and in this image, I think we see the mistress of a dame school with her charges, who have clearly been romping in earnest.

The details abound, from the portfolio on the mantle to the baize on the floor and the ink spots on the little girls apron. The room is simply furnished, but we get a sense of domestic and dress details. The shortest girl in the front trio is disheveled, her sash undone and her gown slipping from her shoulders. (What a romp they’ve had!)