A Whale-Safe Bonnet

Complete with my interpretation of "Hat Face"
Complete with my interpretation of “Hat Face”

As promised, my interpretation of the ribbed bonnet in the 1789 engraving. There are a few problems with this beyond the model. (Which is not to say that I don’t like this bonnet– I do!)

I used the Kannik’s Korner bonnet pattern (view F, I think) as the basis for this because I already had a brim, lining, and caul cut and in a drawer. Given my current medicated state, using something pre-cut seemed advisable. That means I didn’t play with the brim to create the line of the Williamsburg bonnet, or the curve of the brim in the “Fortune Teller” engraving.

Detail, The Marquis of Grandby
Detail, The Marquis of Grandby

Is this style acceptable for the period I typically interpret (1775-1783)? Well… there are other examples of the lampshade-style bonnet, as in the Edward Penny painting of the Marquis of Granby. This painting is dated “after 1765” so there’s some room for interpretation there…too much room. But if that’s 1765-1770, and the “Fortune Teller” is 1789, I think we have comfortably covered the 1775-1783 time frame, even if it is a bit like a queen-sized blanket on a twin bed.

Front view: more lamp-shade like.
Front view: more lamp-shade like.

As you can see, the bonnet does have some lamp-shade-like tendencies on my head, which I consider a benefit. I like the way the ribs are visible, even if I remain unconvinced by the caning. I think it’s a little too wide, and lacks resiliency, though to be honest, I have only felt baleen at the New Bedford Whaling Museum, where there is a large sample on the second floor.

To compensate for the disappointing cane in the brim, I slipped a piece of millinery wire into the pocket underneath the cane. The layers in the brim are:

  • black taffeta
  • horsehair canvas
  • linen buckram
  • yellow taffeta

The channels are all hand-sewn, and then the cane was slipped in. I stitched the black taffeta caul to the first three layers, and then lapped the yellow taffeta over the raw edges and stitched it down to finish the brim/caul seam.

No, I didn’t take any in-process pictures…probably because this took considerable snake-eyed concentration last weekend. IMG_1477 IMG_1476

Usually, I line the cauls of my bonnets, but through shear laziness or distraction, I opted not to this time, and I think I’ll leave it this way for a while. You will also note that I have not trimmed this: I have some black silk ribbon coming, and I may try that. I don’t have enough black taffeta left to cut self-fabric ties, and there do seem to be some plain examples. A plainer, lamp-shade-like bonnet may be just the ticket for Bridget.

What would I do differently? Next time I would definitely play with the brim shape using a paper template. I’d like a lower, curvier, brim. Once I had the shape worked out in paper, I would use that as a template to cut the taffeta and horsehair or light buckram layers.

The Edenton Tea Party
The Edenton Tea Party

I’d also try zip ties. I know: not period correct! But short of risking federal prosecution resulting from a trip to New Bedford with some shears, I’m not sure that anything other than plastic will have the resiliency and spring that baleen has, and that made these bonnets so special. I thought of them while making this bonnet, but I think Mr S used them all at work in the past two months. A Facebook friend has been thinking of zip ties, though, and has a hankering for one of these bonnets. I can’t say that I blame her– and honestly, I think I might join her.

Hat Face

The Fortune Teller, 1789. Lewis Walpole Librray. 789.1.2.1
The Fortune Teller, 1789. Lewis Walpole Librray. 789.1.2.1

I like hats; I think it’s been made clear here before that I have a bit of a bonnet problem. As it stands, I have something in the neighborhood of a dozen bonnets, and really need to get my Etsy store up and running…

But as in life as in the Richard Scarry story, there’s always room for one more, and more to learn, so my collection hasn’t stopped me. I blame my Grandmother Elsa, who owned a dress shop, collected shoes, and had a particular face for trying on hats.

Black silk bonnet, 1770*1780. Colonial Williamsburg 1993*335
Black silk bonnet, 1770*1780. Colonial Williamsburg 1993*335

I’ve been thinking about bonnets because I lately came across some engravings showing what might be called baleen bonnets. At left above, a bonnet that is clearly reminiscent of the bonnet in the Colonial Williamsburg collection on the right. The CW bonnet (1993-335) has seven baleen bones, and a baleen rib around the bonnet brim.

It is strikingly similar to the bonnet in the 1789 engraving, down to the decoration. In “Kissing the Baby,” a lithograph in the collection of the British Museum, the older woman appears to be wearing a ribbed black bonnet in the style my friend calls “lampshade,” and that others call “bucket.”

Kissing the Child. Lithograph by David Wilkie, 1800-1841. British Museum, 1852,1211.134
Kissing the Child. Lithograph by David Wilkie, 1800-1841. British Museum, 1852,1211.134

There are more bucket or lamp-shade-like bonnets depicted in engravings and paintings, and it is possible that flamboyant style was the one that got Ann Warder in trouble in 1788. I remembered this passage on page 223 of Amelia Mott Gummere’s book, The Quaker, A Study in Costume,:whalebone quote

Whalebone bonnet? Interesting… so, having an interest but no whalebone, I send the Young Mr to the basement for the remaining stock of caning I’d used for stays, and came up with a plan to replicate a “whalebone” bonnet, which I will describe and show you next time!

Roller Print Obsession

Roller print day dress, 1810-1815. Susan Greene Collection, GCVM 90.25
Day dress of roller-printed cotton, 1810-1815. Susan Greene Collection, GCVM 90.25

Lately, I have developed an obsession with this roller-print day dress from the Greene Collection At Genessee Country Village Museum. I first encountered it on the 19th US Infantry’s website, a haven for those of us consumed with the early Federal everyday.

The 19th US site provides more photos and a drawing of the dress, so that if one were to become impossibly obsessed with the dress, one could recreate it. And if one were up late nights, one might consider how to create a copper-engraved roller for printing cotton.

Johann Klein dress, 1810

A more productive line of thought might be to consider this fashion plate, found during an early-morning Pinterest session. I think it gives us a sense of how rapidly fashion crossed the Atlantic (just as quick as engravings could be printed and bound into magazines, and boats could make the trip), and how avidly women copied the latest fashion.

That avidity would have been tempered by access to fabrics, but the resemblance between the dress at Genessee and the fashion illustration is striking, indeed.

Now, to find some fabric…

TBT: Stockings

My black TEDs. Hot stuff!
My black TEDs. Hot stuff!

And by TBT I mean Titano-Boa Thursday. Putting on the clot-preventing stockings is a lesson in patience, creative language use, and wriggling. Thankfully I can bend more this time around and can thus pull these suckers up– not that they really pull, it’s more that they suck and adhere to your leg and you coax them off your flesh–and get dressed in under an hour. I don’t fully understand the principle by which extremely constricting legwear prevents clots, and at this point, I don’t think I could. My best grasping right now is lunch time and a bottle of Tylenol.

Stockings, 1788-1793. French. MMA 26.56.124
Stockings, 1788-1793. French.
MMA 26.56.124

In lovelier legwear, I do have some of American Duchess’s silk stockings, and look forward to wearing those again in the nearish future. Still, you’d think the TED people could have a little fun, perhaps with replicas of these astonishing stockings? They’re toe-less, just like my TEDs.