Ladies of a Certain Age….

Alsa Slade, 1816.
Alsa Slade, 1816.

I don’t know exactly what “that certain age” is, but I think I’m headed there downhill on an icy street in a speeding carriage.

Here’s another good question: What about age? I didn’t address it directly in working out Kitty’s Brown Gown, but I did consider it. She’s in her 40s, and if you look at portraits by Copley and other artists, older women are often dressed in brown. These are respectable ladies, and when Kitty’s feeling more like a bad servant, she’s happy to wear her ca. 1774 red and black calico dress, and make tracks for Germantown.

I’ve been thinking a lot about personae and impressions, and first person interpretations. One of the best things I learned at a recent workshop was “first person thinking,” and in the historic costuming/re-enacting/living history/ historic re-creationist context, when you wonder what to wear, do, say, pack, eat, I think this is where it starts:

Know Your Self. It all flows from who (and when) you imagine yourself to be.

The Ege-Galt Family, 76.100.1, Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Center
The Ege-Galt Family, 76.100.1, Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Center

So let’s take age in account. For Battle Road, 1775, Kitty’s in her 40s. That means she was born around 1735, and came of age in the 1740s and 1750s. Knowing the styles of that time I’m even more comfortable choosing cuffs, because that’s what she grew up with.  She’s not going to be very fashion forward–not just because of her class, but also because of her age. (For added fun and dimensions, start thinking about what she saw and read.)

What about choosing fashions for the older set in 1812? That’s where it gets really interesting, to me. Check out the Ege-Galt family portrait, ca. 1802. The older women are NOT in the high-waisted filmy gowns. Left to right, the sitters were born in 1724, 1779, 1801, and 1748. They are wearing more traditional-looking, darker, firmer-stays-underneath, gowns.

Museum of London
John Middleton with his family, ca. 1797 Museum of London 93.28

The same pattern plays out in this image of the artist’s colorman, John Middleton. The older servant is wearing a dark, older-style gown, while Middleton’s daughters are wearing the most fashion-forward clothes.

For anecdotal, quasi-experimental archaeological evidence, here’s my experience. I started out with solid, carapace-like ca. 1770 stays. (Mr S says touching me in them is like hugging a lobster, and then raps my ribs.) They’re not unpleasant, but they are confining, and even comforting. For an event at work, I made a pair of soft, semi-ribbed, transition stays with cups. They felt very strange after fully boned stays.

Long-line stays with cording and a busk? They felt better: more containment. It’s not just about my avoir du pois. It’s about the enveloping sense that the stays provide. The physical difference of the stays made me look at the Ege-Galt portrait again: what would I have felt comfortable and appropriate in, when styles changed radically?

Fashion plates, then as now, have bias in them. Know your self.

Here’s how I’d work it out:

Let’s say Kitty is 45 in 1812:   she was born in 1767, turned 20 in 1787: she grew up in full stays. She turned 30 in 1797, just in time to adopt shorter stays, but probably tending to longer line stays with corded bust gussets. Let’s say Kitty’s cousin is 55 in 1812. Born in 1757, she turned 40 in 1797. Chances are good she favored a longer stay with more boning, and maybe corded gussets, too.

1813, chapeau de velours,  robe de Merino.
1813, chapeau de velours, robe de Merino.

What does that mean for her silhouette? It means that she lowers the waist of her gowns (You win again, gravity!) She also wears darker colors. Filmy gowns of the Regency era fashion plates aside, what did women wear for everyday? If you check Pinterest boards of fashion plates, or the various collections at NYPL, Claremont College, LAPL, and the Met, you can find Griselle, and that’s a help. Better yet, searching extant collections can turn up lovely-in-their-own-right gowns…with color!

The “real people” wore colors, and ajusted styles to their circumstances. I find the 19th U.S. 1812 site useful, not just for their studies of extant garments, but also for their presentations. The 1809 apron front gown from MHS is an excellent example of a non-filmy gown worn by a real woman. Caveat: it’s supposed to be Quaker. MHS has also has a nice set of watercolors online bny Anna Maria vonPhul, painting the town of Saint Louis in the first part of the 19th century. Her characters range in class and age, and reflect what she really saw.

Dolly Eyland, Alexander Keith, 1808; New Art Gallery Walsall P11/02
Dolly Eyland, Alexander Keith, 1808; New Art Gallery Walsall P11/02

We have a gown at work worn by Mrs John Brown (also, perhaps, a Quaker) in the late 18th or first quarter of the 19th century. While it has a higher waist and does mimic fashionable trends, it reminds me of the Quaker gowns at the MFA (I think it is earlier). But it’s brown! Practical, attractive in the right shades, brown. Which does at least come in a variety of shades, and can be thought of as an excuse for darker red…

Choosing a Gown

Here’s a good question (I love questions): how do you choose which [historic example] to make?

The answer, as almost always: Research.

I start with a date. For Battle Road, the dress must be typical of New England in April, 1775 and appropriate for my impression or persona.  As I imagine my character from the past, she’s in her 40s, from the upstart town of Providence, married to a tradesman or craftsman. She has one child, and I haven’t thought about whether or not it’s one only or one surviving—too busy chasing the One Child Who Eats Like Ten.

Providence, 1790. John Fitch, RIHS Map #30
Providence, 1790. John Fitch, RIHS Map #30
Mrs Nathaniel Ellery, J S Copley, 1765, MFA Boston
Mrs Nathaniel Ellery, 1765, MFA Boston

Living in a port city means my character—we’ll call her Kitty—has access to new goods and ideas, a town where you can buy almost anything, but where staymakers are less common than in Newport.  It’s less refined than Newport, brassier, but competitive and striving and with plenty of money in some hands. Providence is where the Gaspee affair was plotted; in 1790, residents from around the world are recorded here—men from Java, living in Providence—it’s polyglot, mercantile, striving.

Given that Kitty is of the middling sort in a town, she can wear linen and wool and camblet and even some silk. Her clothes will be fashionable but not high style, “a thought behind the current moment,” as Lord Peter says of someone’s hat. What’s the purpose of this brown gown? Everyday wear, that, with accessories, can be dressed up, or dressed down. Eventually, who knows, I might manage a crewel work stomacher and nice linen cuff-ruffles for my shift, though a filthy apron, burned skirt, and a striped rough linen petticoat are more likely…

Mrs. James Otis (Mary Allyne Otis). JS Copley, ca. 1760. Wichita Art Museum
Mrs. James Otis ca. 1760. Wichita Art Museum

Making an everyday dress means not copying the silk dress from Williamsburg, and honestly, I couldn’t wear that wedding cake frosting on my chest, nor what Mrs. Otis has on her stomacher. How about that lovely Norwich wool gown? Well…almost. But I can’t sew that well, and haven’t got fabric that lovely, couldn’t afford it now, wouldn’t have had it then. I have brown wool. Have I seen Mrs. John Brown dressed like one of Copley’s women? Perhaps (if you take Copley as evidence, which you must do carefully.) Have I looked at the lovely brown silk satin and thought, I could do that. Possibly.

Black Heart Cherries, Paul Sandby, ca. 1759. YCBA B1975.3.206
Black Heart Cherries, Paul Sandby, ca. 1759. YCBA B1975.3.206

What we do know is that in New England, gowns are found more often than any other kind of garment (i.e. short gowns or jackets or riding habits). We know that wool is common, but that linen is found in towns and cities, wool more often in the country, and that the pretty, but expensive, cotton prints are popular. Open robes are more common earlier, and “hatchet” cuffs (pleated tubes) predominate. The style is worn by Copley’s women and Sandby’s girls, and it’s seen in images from 1760 on. That means it’s a good choice for a base style for any class level.

Here’s my process, more or less:

Determine the date, that sets the style.
1775 means stomacher front gown.

Determine the character, that sets the fabric and trims.
Kitty’s New England middling, so she’ll have a wool gown with robings but not trims, a plain stomacher, cuffs and not ruffles, and a matching petticoat.

Determine the event, that sets the accessories.
Battle Road is a hard one for me: as a woman, I shouldn’t be there, and as a Rhode Islander, I really shouldn’t be there. (RI militia were stopped at the border by the governor to prevent them joining Massachusetts men after news of the events at Lexington and Concord reached Rhode Island. They did get there eventually and participated in the siege of Boston, but you see what I mean…) So I have to construct a story for how to dress, and the best I can manage is going out, either to a shop or to pay a casual call on family. So what I plan is a matching petticoat, white neck handkerchief, clean check apron, and bonnet over a clean white cap. (This emphasis on clean should remind me to wash and iron a thing or two.)

That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it. For now, anyway, till I get a better idea.

Brown Gown

Gown, ca. 1765. CW 1985-117,1
Gown, ca. 1765. CW 1985-117,1

The very first dress in the Costume Close Up book matches my measurements pretty well, so I thought I’d be quite clever and pattern it up for my own use. I want a stomacher front open robe for Battle Road and a 1763 event this summer, so what better place to start than with an original ca. 1756-1760 gown?

I laced up my stays on Friday and spent much of the day measuring, drawing, cutting, and sewing. By mid-afternoon, I had a muslin with the devil’s own sleeve and a large measure of frustration.

Yes, I ate, it wasn’t just low blood sugar that caused all this unhappiness. For the public safety, there are no photos of the ensuing debacle. But the situation was not irreparable, as I have been in this miserable place before.

Patterned up from the little illustration.

( To add to the fun, my stays have stretched, and now give the impression that they slip down throughout the course of the day. They do this even while I am not especially active: I’d dismissed the sensation at Fort Lee. Oh, it’s the hours in the non-18th century seat, it’s running around the site, it’s one more lame excuse I’m making up. Nope. Suckers have stretched and will require attention. Also, for being slightly more than one year old, ought they to have wear marks from tying on petticoats? Next time, I’m using cotton, since it doesn’t stretch like linen.)

Gown, 1750-17651988-223, CW
Gown, 1750-1765,  CW 
1988-223

I got out the basic bodice block I’d patterned in June, and adjusted that to have a straighter, more horizontal waist line and made the bodice fronts narrower. The robings with be pleated to have a layered look, for which this Norwich wool gown at CW is the inspiration. I stitched up a muslin of the altered bodice block, and wouldn’t you know, it fit. It’s a relief to know that some measure of frustration eventually pays off. Maybe.

By Saturday night, I had the lining sewn up and Sunday morning, I attached the lining sleeves (I like to check the fit and have something to beat the fashion fabric sleeve against.) That meant I was ready for the terrifying step of cutting and sewing the actual wool. I have enough of it that I can mess up and redeem the problem, what I don’t have enough of is time. Certain gentlemen have garments in need of alteration, and creation, you see.

The back, with pleats sewn down, and skirts on their way.

Since this is the third or fourth or fifth time I have wrestled with the 18th century gown cut en fourreau, I know what I am getting in to. I know about the three hours for four pleats. I know the heartache of hand stitching the back only to realize you have introduced a wiggle. What I don’t know is how to keep this in perspective.

I followed along with Koshka the Cat’s en fourreau tutorial, which I found incredibly helpful. It won’t keep you from introducing a wiggle into your seams, but you will get the seams in pretty much the right place, as long as you’re honest about your measurements. It’s only a little bit Richard III up there in the center seam….

It’s good to be a perfectionist, but sometimes you have to just let go and sew. I’m still learning how to live with that.

Work, work, workman’s jacket

It fits! It might be painful, though.

Ah, yes. Work. It continues on the workman’s jacket for the Young Mr to wear at Battle Road, and for next week’s HSF deadline. There are some additional views of him in the same pose here. I tacked the lapels down because I have seen that detail on an original garment, and because if I don’t, they’re likely to bother the kid.

The nice thing about a workman’s jacket is that a waistcoat is optional underneath it. This short, only post-RevWar waistcoats look alright. So for Battle Road, long underwear may be in order. It wasn’t last year, but who knows?

Paul Sandby, A Sandpit. YCBA B1975.3.930
Paul Sandby, A Sandpit. YCBA B1975.3.930
Sandby, Roslin Castle detail, YCBA, B1975.4.1877
Paul Sandby, Roslin Castle detail, YCBA, B1975.4.1877

The form is authentic, thank goodness, for working men’s clothes; on the left, in a detail from Sandby’s A Sandpit, is a jacket in blue. On the right, in a detail from Roslin Castle, Midlothian, is another jacket that looks short, worn without a waistcoat. It may not be as short, but I am encouraged by the lack of waistcoat, though I will insist on shoes…

The form persists for a long time, and is seen in military wear as well, in light infantry and dragoon troops, as well as in sailor’s clothing.