Tag: bonnets

The Colour of Things to Come

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, History, Living History, material culture, Reenacting5 Comments

I have a thing for hats– well, for bonnets, really. I know I made stays and a shift before I made anything else for the 18th century, but I might have made a bonnet before I made a proper gown. It’s a condition I inherited from my grandmother, and a great aunt who was a milliner, so there’s little to be done about it– except to dive in deeper.

Miss Theophila Palmer (1757-1848), oil on canvas, attributed to Sir Joshua Reynolds ca 1770. Pretty sure that’s a white “whalebone” or “skeleton” bonnet.

As people do more research and generously share it with me, I’ve come to realize that I need to synthesize what we are seeing. It’s a tricky thing, what with that single (known) extant bonnet at Colonial Williamsburg and only prints and images to go on. What I’ve done to compile a stack of references from newspaper ads (primarily Mid-Atlantic and New England colonies at the moment) and interfiled them with images. This has given me a much better sense of  the change in shapes and construction over time, as well as the range of colours– yes, colours, available and popular.

It’s not just that wool bonnets are a thing– there’s the ““a reddish coloured worsted bonnet” in the April 8, 1776 Pennsylvania Packet an ad for runaway Margaret Collands, and the “black durant” recommended in Instructions for Cutting Out Apparel for the Poor– but close reading shows that the colors are more varied than we’ve accept lately, but they vary by region and time period.

The Misses Waldegrave. Are blue bonnets *only* for children? Maybe.

There’s been a rule that “all bonnets are black silk,” which is too broad a statement. Most bonnets are black, that’s true. But in 1768, in Boston, a place where folks would have you think that black is the only colour bonnet you can ever have, you can have “Black, pink, blue and crimson sattin hatts and bonnets” (Joshua Gardner and Com. ad, Boston News-Letter, November 24, 1768).

Heck, if you shopped at Caleb Blanchard, you could have a green bonnet, too! Blanchard advertised “black, blue, green, white and crimson Sattin bonnets” in the Boston Gazette on December 18, 1769.

What does this mean? My SWAG is that roughly 60-70% of bonnets should be black. After that, blue, white, red and green would make up the balance. In Philadelphia, green bonnets– and green flowered bonnets– last longer in the ads. Philadelphia is also where I see more white bonnets, a brown silk bonnet, a diaper bonnet, a “queen’s grey” bonnet, and, in Trenton, a “lye coloured” bonnet. In Rhode Island, there’s a blue stuff bonnet. So yes, bonnets should mostly be black. But they can also be other colours.

Capote de Velour garnis en satin

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, making things7 Comments
Costumes Parisiens, 1807

This plate has stuck with me for years: those mailbox shapes, in velour! In 1807, velour was not what we think of today (and I don’t mean Zapp Branigan). Valerie Cumming’s Dictionary of Fashion defines velour as “Wool or wool mixture cloth, soft and smooth with a closely-cut pile or nap resembling velvet.” Not having access to wool velour in the scrap bins at work, or in the fashion aisles at the local fabric store, I opted for velvet; the scrap bin provided pink silk taffeta, which I thought made a nice contrast to the texture and finish of the velvet. It is true that “velure” dates to the 17th century, and describes imitation velvet. The wool velour I’m familiar with from upholstery is too dense and heavy to drape well over a bonnet (it’s really made for sofas and armchairs), so erring on the hand of the fabric seemed a reasonable choice. Wool velour with silk satin would be an amazing textural contrast, but with this color combination, almost any fabrics will give a pleasant optical shock.

French 19th Century, Les Invisibles en tête-à-tête (Tête-à-Tête with Poke Bonnets), c. 1805, etching with publisher’s hand coloring in watercolor on pale green laid paper, Katharine Shepard Fund 2015.49.4

Shaping the brim was an exercise in paper and pasteboard, winging it a bit until I achieved a length and width that was mailbox-like but not too drainage tunnel. The cartoons of the period make clear that these are deep brimmed bonnets. I do like that the bonnet on the left is trimmed so like the ones in the fashion plate; the one at right is probably corded or reeded, judging by the ridges.

The trickiest bit was shaping the silk to the compound curve of the brim. Three patternings got me there– until I realized the silk needed body to hold up to binding, and took a short cut. Ask not of the sin of fusible interfacing, for I have learned my lesson. Yes, the silk piece shrank and no longer curved evenly from the front edge. Thank goodness Drunk Tailor was watching The Pacific, so any foul language I may have used was disguised by movie dialogue. The binding is bias-cut silk, easy enough. After the debacle of the Vandyke trim, I opted not to cut and bind the leaf shapes, but rather to cut the ovals with pinking shears and attach them along a silk band. Would I do it differently another time? Possibly, if only because I like to imagine the different ways an American milliner might interpret a French fashion plate.

Once I settled on making the bonnet, I decided it was time to finish a pink wool petticoat I started in 2015 after a trip to Mood. It’s a tropical weight Australian wool, according to its selvedge, and has a high-waisted bodice with a drawstring closure. I covered the bottom drawstring (and added some bling) with a black velvet belt closed with a period paste buckle. (Every now and then someone doesn’t know what they’ve got, and lets it go for a price I can afford.) On top, the gathered back cotton velveteen canezou/Spencer made for my first trip to Genesee. Having a wardrobe extensive enough to mix-and-match almost the way I do from my modern closet is pretty satisfying, if a little crowded.

This isn’t a bonnet for wearing while crossing a busy street, though it will successfully shelter the wearer and a cat from any sudden downpours, and one is unlikely to get sunburned wearing this. I didn’t find it distracting to wear– but I didn’t go far, and I had a companion. But what price fashion?

I Want [peppermint] Candy

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Living History, making things, material culture1 Comment

A friend regularly sends me bonnet descriptions from the inventories she’s researching; one description was of a white silk bonnet with a red cherry silk lining from Rowan County, N.C. in the 1770s. Hot stuff, right? Less hot if you made it in white linen, but even North Carolina has winter sometimes. I made two, of course, in sightly different shapes.

Bonnet Number One

Strawberry shortcake? Whipped cream and cherries? You tell me, but I always maintain that bonnets are the cupcakes of costuming: pretty, fluffy, low-calorie and quick to make. 

Once she’d sent me the description, I got hung up on finally finishing my wrapping gown. 

There are enough events where I sleep over that a wrapper for the morning is a useful thing. My characters don’t rate the silk of the one I made for Potts Grove Manor, but I used the same pattern with a reproduction cotton print from Burnley & Trowbridge. I love it– but I do feel a bit like a candy cane. 

Bonnet Number Two, Lampshade Style

Because I’ve seen so many instances of sun shade bonnet (herein known as “lampshade,” making one up in that form seemed like a good idea– and the crowning glory to the red and white striped wrapper. 

Now I really need a cherry red silk quilted petticoat to wear with this ensemble. Some other autumn, when I have more space and time perhaps. 

Black and Blue

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Events, History, making things6 Comments

Unlike some of my earlier posts, this Black and Blue refers to a different kind of historical effect: the purely aesthetic. (Yes, it is a departure for me. Moving below the Mason-Dixon line has been curious, as my encounters at the bank regularly make me wonder if I have stumbled into the Invasion of the Body Snatchers or Pleasantville. Surely real humans aren’t this nice! I thought the people of Rhode Island were just fine, but maybe my standards were warped by growing up in a Major Midwestern City.) In any case, times change and so do people. Onward, to the aesthetic!

First, there was the new waistcoat. That should be enough to refresh an outfit, right?
Wrong.

The armscye sits way back over the shoulder blades

The set of the armscye didn’t coordinate with the white gown I made two summers ago, so a new item would be in order. I thought this would be the case in the muslin, but when I basted up the blue silk (selected because I had enough material to make a waistcoat and a cap), it was clear something new would have to go underneath.

The original waistcoat’s date of ca. 1797 helped narrow down my choices, and a 1799 fashion plate helped as well. Blue over white: pretty snazzy. I sketched up the plan for the white wrap-front gown, re-imagined that when I got batiste after asking for voile, and figured I’d be fine. A blue silk cap trimmed in black wool lace or gold silk cord still seemed like a good solution.


But the fashion plate showed a black hat or bonnet, and whilst trolling Etsy with a Manhattan in hand, searching for an 1830s-appropriate buckle, I took a look at one of my favorite shops, just to see.

Reader, I saw.

The “overly honest milliner” confessed that this style would not flatter everyone. Challenge accepted! In truth, though, I have a small head, and having cut my hair short for the summer, can (must) wear a slightly different kind of headware. I’ve also tried on enough of Anna’s millinery to know what will and won’t work for me, so I was pretty certain this bonnet would suit me well.

I trimmed it with some blue silk double-faced satin ribbon recovered from a failed bonnet attempt of several years ago, and then cast about for something else. Something different. Wednesday found me steaming feathers– as you do– while Drunk Tailor pulled KP duty. I hid the feather quills (more or less) with a ribbon rosette, and the considered fastening. Many early-nineteenth century bonnets don’t tie under the chin, and in any case, I didn’t have enough ribbon left to pull that off.

Parking lot selfie, with sweat, curls, and feathers. I like the way the feathers contrast with the curls.

The solution? Another rosette. On the feather side, I stitched the straight tail of the ribbon to the bonnet. The second rosette attached to the ribbon, which I then ran under my chin and pinned. Bonnet secured, more or less, though the feathers necessitate caution when exiting a vehicle.