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.

Short Gown Alert! Griselle en négligé du matin

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Griselle en négligé du matin, faisant sa provision au Marché des Quinze-vingts

Griselle en négligé du matin, faisant sa provision au Marché des Quinze-vingts

Very roughly, Griselle, in morning undress, goes to the “Three Hundred” market for provisions.

Said to be on Paris maps of 1760 and 1771, the Quinze-vingts Market was probably razed for the Rue de Rivoli. Interestingly, the major ophthalmic hospital in Paris is the Three Hundred, and there has been a Three Hundred hospital since 1260. (Sorry, Mr S: even in history, there is no escaping hospitals or eyeballs.) The neighborhood takes its name from the hospital, so Griselle is headed to her neighborhood market. You wouldn’t go far from home in négligé du matin.

Let’s look at what she’s wearing: It’s the reenactor’s frenemy, the short gown. Griselle here is post-1789, check the raised waist line and the non-cone bosom shape. Is it 1790, 1792ish? Probably in that range. If you don’t want to wing a version of this based on illustrations and Costume Close Up, you can get a pattern for a similar garment. It was workshop tested; my version is here.

What I like are the basic details: turban scarf, kerchief, simple short gown, striped petticoat, clocked stockings, slippers, just a bundle for the market.

The simplicity is key here, also tiny details. Look at the end of her sleeve: buttons. This is fantastic news for those of us who need to get our enormous hands through slender 18th-century sleeves. It’s taking a lot of will power not to head down to the stash and start on a mock up of this short gown right this minute…

The silhouette matches the pouter-pigeon, full-bust look of more formal wear of ca. 1792, so I don’t think she’s gone stay-less. The striped petticoat could be cotton or linen; Wm Booth had some variegated stripe linen that could work for a version of this. Are we seeing her shift, or another petticoat under the stripes? It’s so similar in length, and her shape so full, that I think it is second petticoat and not shift.

The stockings and what I will call their clocks, but look like decorative gussets, that coordinate with the slippers, are a nice touch. Visible beneath this shorter hem, they provide another bit of color and decorative accent to this plain look.

If I didn’t have those guys to sew for, this is what I would have chosen for Peasants and Pioneers. Not that I don’t love my boys…but menswear is time consuming.

HSF #5: A Peasant’s Jacket

WIth the buttons to be installed
WIth the buttons to be installed

A Workman’s Jacket…not quite done. I had to work Saturday, so there went 7 hours; I got sick, I got tired, so it’s an almost, oh-so-close jacket. Buttons and buttonholes are all we lack. Of course, for a man’s jacket, that’s, you know, a significant lacking. However, I don’t want to have the crack-addled monkey buttonholes again, so I’m not doing them until I’m not rushed or distracted.

You’ve seen it already here, and know that it has chamois pockets. The Facts:

Buttons, with button holes to come
Buttons, with button holes to come

The Challenge: Peasants & Pioneers

Fabric: Blue wool broadcloth, with a blue and white striped linen lining

Pattern: Kannik’s Korner Double-Breasted Short Jacket

Year: It will be worn for 1775, but can be worn from 1760-1800.

Paul Sandby, A Sandpit. YCBA B1975.3.930
Paul Sandby, A Sandpit. YCBA B1975.3.930

Notions: Linen thread, brass buttons, interfacing, cotton twill stay tape

How historically accurate is it? Well…the fit is a trifle off. It’s better than the base pattern, as I altered the shoulders, but it could use another round of alterations and fitting if the intended wearer would tolerate it.  Still, like the man to the left, the kid is supposed to be working in this, so he’ll need some room.

The edges of the wool are unfinished, as I’ve seen in originals, with the lining turned back. It is all hand sewn. But, I don’t have any documentation for the striped linen lining, (it’s fine for quilted petticoats) so I would not go above 8/10 for this.

Stripes!
Stripes!

Hours to complete: I can remember about 18 to this point, and the buttonholes will add another 5 to 7. They’re about 20 minutes each, with 16 – 18 to do, plus sewing on buttons. Total time likely to be 22-24 hours.

First worn: To be worn April 13, 2013.

Total cost: $79.36 can be accounted for in materials. The broadcloth was purchased from Wm Booth’s remnants and the buttons are Burnley & Trowbridge: those I have numbers for. The striped linen, purchased at Jo-Ann Fabrics,  was in the stash.

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.