Category: Reenacting

Monmouth Millinery

On By kittycalashIn 1763 Project, Clothing, making things, Reenacting, Research6 Comments
New hat!
New hat!

As Eloise or her Nanny might say, It is rawther warmer than I care for. Lucky for me, I have a new hat. It’s a black straw hat of a kind you might see called a bergère, along with 4 yards of silk ribbon, purchased at Burnley & Trowbridge’s tent at Monmouth. Jim and Angela and their assistants were very helpful, and this was rawther a splurge for me, as I mostly buy my ribbon from Wm Booth’s remnants, when they are available. (We are tenant farmers. Mostly.)

Coromandel Coast lined hat, from an auction.
Coromandel Coast lined hat, from an auction.

But in this instance, I wanted a lady’s hat, so I pleated up about two yards of green silk ribbon, and added a bow. To get the multi-vector bending effect, I stitched millinery wire from Abraham’s Lady around the brim. The inside of the brim is lined with pieced scraps of the purple “Fleurs d’Inde” I used for a jacket (also made from a Wm Booth remnant). It ties on with yet another yard or more of ribbon. This is really a frivolous hat, for me. There are extant examples of straw hats lined with chintz, as you can see.

As luck would have it, I got to wear it right off, the very day I made it. How often do you get the chance to do without panic and pain? We attended the Saturday version of the Rochambeau Tea on Joy Homestead, an event which has its dedicated fans.

First hat outing
First hat outing

I wore this same gown last year, and to Nathan Hale; to my delight, I am enjoying it more each time I wear it. I think this petticoat is the right one; madder was too close and black too contrasty. Since the Rochambeau Tea “year” is 1780, this dress passes (ahem) muster; for many of the events I attend, it is too fashion forward.

London Cries: the Fishmonger. Paul Sandby ca. 1759. YCBA B1975.3.210

This hat will, I think, also work for the 1763 event, as the woman in yellow here is wearing a similarly dual-plane twist hat. I’ll never have a yellow gown though: I look pretty horrid in yellow.

To Wash or Not to Wash

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Events, Living History, Reenacting2 Comments
Mr S and his waistcoat at Monmouth
Mr S and his waistcoat at Monmouth

Sometimes I can almost hear, “Good God woman, what are you thinking?!” but so far I have only seen it in a man’s eyes. This is usually in regard to laundry.

I erred once in asking if one wanted his hunting shirt laundered, and I had planned only on cold water and hand washing, as the item seemed a bit crunchy and crumpled to my eye and hand. But, no, some other woman had washed that shirt some time ago, and it had taken considerable time—years—to reestablish fringe from fluff.

Well patinated now, formerly embarrassingly white.

Now, I give you Mr S’s waistcoat and overalls. Mr S’s waistcoat was completed on the New Jersey Turnpike in November 2011 while headed to Fort Lee. Since then, it has a acquired a smattering of powder specks, a patina of grunge, a stain or two of greasy beaver (curry, actually) and, most recently, spots of toothpaste. This is where I draw the line: the toothpaste spots must go, as they are inauthentic.

Shirts, shifts, stockings, aprons, and waistcoat

One doesn’t want one’s clothes too clean for reenactments or living history events: you’re “living” in the pre-detergent era, but that doesn’t mean you should never wash your clothes. We know that the armies employed women to wash clothing, and we know that linens–shirts, shifts, and drawers–were washed more frequently than outerwear like breeches, waistcoats, and gowns. It’s not so different from today, when we don’t clean business suits as often as we launder shirts or underwear. Still, we do clean our clothes, and there comes a point when those overalls will get washed. Right about when you figure you need gloves to handle them…

Two Words: Bed Sack

On By kittycalashIn Events, Living History, Reenacting2 Comments
The Young Mr outside our tents
The Young Mr outside our tents

I’m making one. Or two. Whatever: I’m making them for famille Calash. Sleeping on straw and a sleeping pad is better than either alone, but I find with the arthritis that I need more warmth and more cushion than I used to require. True, I am self-padded, but the steel prosthesis does feel—it is only an illusion, but I feel this—closer to the surface, and thus colder, than bone. This makes for a Cranky Kitty, and it is far better for all concerned that Madam Commissariat be a Happy Kitty. I will forgo chairs and tables and other clutter—it is both authentic and pleasant to be unburdened—but I like to sleep well.

There’s a simple enough pattern in one of the Packet books, but the gist of the thing is this: Enormous Market Wallet. Interior common tent dimensions are about 6×6 or 6×7 feet, so you need to end up with something along the lines of 3×6 or 4×6 or 6×6 feet. The Packet suggests four pieces of ticken, each 30 x 80 inches, aiming for a finished size of 42×72 inches, with an center slit four inches wide and a couple feet or so long. (I used the 18th Century New England Life market wallet instructions for a guide in making ours, and will use the same idea for bed sacks.)

I’m not yet aware of extensive documentation of these for Continental troops, but there is one reference in a West Point waste book (see here, footnote three). Since we don’t allow fire in the tents, I am willing to compromise on cotton ticking for these, and (ssshh!!) machine sewing the seams, with a hand-finished slit edge. I might even borrow the serger from work to make really quick work of this business. They will truly hardly be seen, so although I know I am cutting corners, I don’t feel too wretched about it.

18th Century Sno-Cones

On By kittycalashIn Food, Living History, Reenacting1 Comment
Nooning Saturday. Sandwiches and fruit

You may not have seen the Mad Men episode about the Sno Ball campaign, but chances are good you remember Sno Cones in paper cups from street vendors or Woolworth’s. On a hot August afternoon in Chicago, they were a treat waiting for the insufferably delayed Number 11 bus. On a warm New Jersey night, one can be inspired.

When the Wemrock Orchards truck came through camp Saturday evening, we bought another bag of ice—20 pounds!—and added ice to our pitchers. The Young Mr started crunching ice cubes, and The Adjutant observed, “You’re following the label’s advice: ‘Ice is Food’.” Mr S and I looked at each other and said, “I wonder if you could make a shrub slushy?” But what to beat the ice with? Musket butts were considered and rejected. And suddenly the Young Mr said, “We have a mallet!”

Indeed we do: Mr S made us a whacking great mallet with an enormous head. We ran to the tent to fetch the mallet and the flask of shrub, wrapped two handfuls of ice in the cleanest white cloth we had, laid it on Table (a clean, flat piece of firewood) and wielded the mallet. Just a small amount of shrub (recipe here) will do; it’s pretty potent stuff, even when non-alcoholic. I did not whack long enough, but shrub over crushed ice is a delicious, if highly unlikely for a common soldier, treat. The Adjutant is correct: the ice needed more whacking. But when he said, “I guess someone will have to make a mallet for the unit that’s flat on one side and serrated on another,” I figured we’d been accepted, crazy snow-cones and all.