The Milliners’ Shop

One of the Milliners Stands in the Doorway
One of the Milliners Stands in the Doorway

On Saturday last, Sew 18th Century and I set up a milliners’ shop for the Salem Maritime Festival. This was a fun event made even better by the opportunity to set up shop in an actual shop!

We started working on this project in the Spring, and kept working on it almost until it was time to pack for the trip.

Some of our goods, with the delightful Miss A
Some of our goods, with the delightful Miss A

Milliners carried a wide range of goods designed to entice customers into the shop where they might purchase a new trim, ribbon or sash while admiring newer bonnet styles or fresh yard goods. Even in the 18th and 19th century, retailers new the value of repeat customers and impulse purchasing.

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Customers of all kinds came to our shop, some for retail trade, and some for wholesale. Mr JS is a weaver, and has offered plain and check linens by subscription– and I think our shop can do well referring custom to him. He was far more genteel than the sailors who came in– three times they visited, offering us money, but not for our bonnets!

Fresh from a privateer, Mr G and his crew mate stomped up the steps and made several untoward propositions, even daring to shake a bag of coin! Later they tried to entice a studious apprentice to join them, but fortunately he is a dutiful and serious lad with a thought for his future, and he declined their offer. At last Mr S was forced to confront these sailors on the waterfront– I think we shall soon require a committee of safety to patrol our streets and regulate the ruffians.

Mrs B examines some of our trims

Other customers shopped for trims and accessories. Mrs B is always fashionable, and one of our best customers. She sets a standard for refinement and style in our town that few can match.

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Her husband is an officer in the Navy, and I fear sometimes he is startled by the bills– though he always pays, I think he may be surprised to see how fashionable we have become in Salem.

The bandbox maker, Ms M, set up in our shop as well. I do highly recommend her boxes as the finest made and best decorated that can be had. Bonnets and hats do not come cheap, and you do well to protect them.

In the late morning, I paid a call to Mrs B, and took tea. The coffee jelly was exquisite, molded in the shape of fish– very clever indeed– with marzipan fish and a rice pudding. It was a delight to all the senses, though sadly I had to hurry back to the shop. It is a great responsibility to keep a shop.

Shop window at the West India Goods Store
Shop window at the West India Goods Store

Thank you so much for visiting and for trading with us! Do come back soon, as we are certain to have new goods of interest to delight you.

Six Toiles, a Coat and a Bonnet

14557116394_73c2d5ea9f_zYes, six toiles.
That’s how many it took to get a coat pattern to fit Mr S the way I thought it should. I finally built the pattern around a sleeve and arm scye that I knew worked and suited the period. From there, I built out the back, altering the center back seam curve to suit Mr S’s figure. Arm scyes are still hard for me to figure out, although sleeves are often my favorite part of a garment. I like how flat pieces become three dimensional in a sleeve, and I enjoy setting sleeves– go figure.

Thanks to the three-day holiday weekend and sitting out a parade to pad stitch, I have a coat body.

I’m not thrilled about the size of the lapels, though I have found extant examples and fashion plates showing lapels this size, and sleeves, too. While I’ve pinned up the sleeves in the back, thinking there’s too much fabric there, I can also see from the images that the subject’s posture was not the best– and that was the moment when I realized that I really did want a mannequin for menswear as the subjects are hard to catch at any age, and variable in posture and wiggliness. They also object to being pinned accidentally.

But there is at least a coat body on the way to being done, so I took a break and made a bonnet, which is really the point here <ahem> milliner’s, not tailor’s, shop, after all.

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Pasteboard brim, blue silk taffeta lined with white silk taffeta (they had new things at the fabric store, very exciting!), trimmed with silk ribbon from Wm Booth and paper flowers from the V&A.

Now, more bonnets, two waistcoats, a gown, an exhibition, a lecture, and Stony Point are all that stand between me and the milliners’ shop in Salem…

Coat Tales

Coat pattern version 3
Coat pattern version 3

As the Salem Maritime Festival approaches, my anxiety increases.

Whatever will those ‘gentlemen’ wear? Coats and waistcoats, and thank goodness I finished the Young Mr’s shirt and his farm trousers still fit. He has promised to be a very annoying runaway apprentice, and I have promised to chase him from the miilliners’ shop with a broom, but before any of that can happen, ‘gentlemen’ will need new waistcoats and coats.

I got out Fitting and Proper, and took a look at that coatee pattern. It’s a little earlier than I want, so I also looked at The Cut of Men’s Clothes. In truth, I did not draft up a pattern from scratch. I had a commercially available pattern that I’d purchased when it first came out, one that purported to be historically correct, researched, and came from a reputable company.

Toile number 3. One more fitting to go...
Toile number 3. One more fitting to go…

Well…so I guess the issue with the pattern is that the gentlemen in my household are not of the typically boxy build one may see streaming past tourist sites in Boston, or even lumbering across a field in historical uniforms. My gentlemen are built for the Light Infantry, so when I finished the first muslin (or toile) of the coat and fitted it to Mr S, I removed inches–yes, inches–of material along the side and center back.

I suspected this would be necessary when I first traced the pattern pieces, but went ahead because you really have to mark up a toile on the body in question to get the fit correct. Maybe it’s just this many toiles because I’m inexperienced.

Center back pattern, version 3
Center back pattern, version 3

In any case, the armscye and upper shoulder seam were re-drafted, the drape and sweep of the tails, the width of both side and center tails, the side seam of the body, and both seams on the center back piece, which originally had a flat center back seam (I ask you!), a shorter shoulder seam, and a different side seam.

I’ve left the tail length short and after toile number 4, will mark the final tail length for both gentlemen (luckily we are at a sweet spot where this fits Mr S well and the Young Mr passably, so that with minor adjustments for the lad, a second coat could be made at some time).

I still don’t believe the tail pleats entirely, but lack the time this week to draw them from an original. They still seem too wide, though I have taken an inch or more off every tail edge.

The last thing to really wrangle, after bringing the under arm seam back up, is the sleeve; the upper arm is too long, reflecting the fact that the basis for this sleeve is my Spencer sleeve, which traces its origin to Mr Cooke’s linen suit coat pattern. Both Mr S and the Young Mr have shorter humeri and femora, which put the elbow crook on their forearms which looked rather silly and uncomfortable.

In the end, the pattern I had proved useful only in saving me from the math of enlarging a pattern from a book– it got me full-scale immediately, so that I could proceed to fitting–but this project will, when it finished, reflect multiple fittings and four pattern drafts.

If there is a moral to this story, it is this: Almost nothing will fit straight out of the book or the envelope, so leave plenty of time for catching your subject and fitting muslins.

Another moral may be, “Buy muslin in bulk,” which I did thanks to a clearance sale. I’ve already used 2 yards off the bolt I bought Saturday afternoon.

Gentlemen Prefer Blue

Blue wool coat c. 1800. RIHS Museum Collection 1968.38.1
Blue wool coat c. 1800. RIHS Museum Collection 1968.38.1

Continuing the theme of wool coats that will make you itch in August, I present you with another Rhode Island coat. This coat has features I’m more familiar with: a smooth sleeve head, slightly fuller tail pleats, and tail pockets (I love secret pockets). The notched collar with its fine beak-like points makes me think this is later than 1790-1800, as the style heads in the direction of the white wool coat from yesterday’s post.

Slit cuff with two buttons, RIHS Museum Collections, 1968.38.1
Slit cuff with two buttons, RIHS Museum Collections, 1968.38.1

There’s no waist seam, so we can be pretty certain that this coat is earlier than 1818, if not 1810. Another telling measure of age is cuff treatment. This slit cuff seems to start in the 1780s or 1790s and persist into the early 19th century, (and beyond: gentlemen, check your coat sleeves and you’ll see what I mean).

That’s an awfully long range, 1780s to forever, but the smooth sleeve head and lack of waist seam help narrow the time frame. I’d hazard– and this is a hazardous business– ca. 1805 date for this coat, which would give me leeway for a common man to wear this into 1812, though make it more difficult for him to wear it in 1799/1800. (You can look back in fashion, but high style on the lower sorts is a tricky business and requires a lot of thought.)

1925.11.1A, RIHS Museum Collection
1925.11.1A, RIHS Museum Collection

For travel to 1790-1800, I have another coat in mind, though it will probably be a long time before I get it made. This, too, has classic markers of its time, though the collar’s stand-and-fall style makes me think it is closer to 1790 than to 1800.

The lining of this coat is a particular treat: every time I’m able to pull this out for viewing (and since it’s boxed right now, that’s not happening), that blue glazed wool is a treat. The wear mark on the left proper tail lining is intriguing, too: sometimes those start as moth holes and progress, and sometimes they’re wear that’s later found to be delicious and expands by chomping. (Wool and silk and protein, and delicious treats for pests.)

I find these coats really exciting, and often feel a little “Make All the Coats,” but of course I can’t, not quickly, anyway. And these two don’t really solve my August in 1812 problem, as the clock ticks on…but I think there is a solution, thanks to Sharon Burnston and Fitting & Proper.