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.

Better Backstitching

Almost ready for fitting!

Practice: that’s the key. That’s the only key. Just keep stitching…and eventually, the stitches will get smaller and you will get faster.

I spent the week transforming last Monday’s stack of pieces into overalls. This sewing business is amazing! Flat pieces turn into something wearable, and it’s all made out of string in various arrangements. (I may need to get out more…)

The pattern from Henry Cooke goes together very nicely. The pockets are a nice element, and their installation is simpler (I’d call it elegant) than other breeches or trouser pockets I’ve made thus far (this is pair six of breeches/overalls/trousers, pattern four).

That sounds like a lot, doesn’t it? Here’s the spool of thread I bought 18 months ago on the left, and the new one on the right. Along the way, I’ve also used up several spools of colored linen thread, a couple of silk and a few of cotton. The new spool is 1150 feet of linen thread, which seems like a lot to start with. It goes fast, though. The used-up spools were smaller, but when you aim for 10-12 spi, that’s a lot of stitches. Best not to count.

With the fall dropped, you can see the bearer/waistband connection

Very cleverly done, this pocket-bearer-waistband arrangement. My sewing has improved, and luckily for me, these are heavy plain weave linen (acting as osnaburg, here) rather than heavy drill. Heavy drill kills my hands, but this has been pretty pleasant to stitch thus far. Who’s to say what fresh hell the buttonholes will bring–but that’s another week away, at least.

And then it will start all over again on pair number two…but not before I’ve altered the frock coat and possibly breeches, made a jacket and a hunting shirt, and, I hope, a gown. Six weeks to go!

Dressing and Undressing in Newport

A lady and her maid
The Ladies, Dressed, in Newport

Last Thursday evening, my friend and I went to the Colony House in Newport  for the “Undressing History: What Women Wore in the 18th Century” program presented by the Newport Historical Society.

There were excellent questions from children (I loved, “What would you wear for pajamas?”) and adults, including:

If you were not a wealthy woman, or you were an enslaved woman, what did you wear on laundry day?

At Sandpit Gate, Paul Sandby, 1765. RCIN 914329
At Sandpit Gate, Paul Sandby, 1765. RCIN 914329

The image that sprang into my mind was Paul Sandby’s women at Sandpit Gate, doing laundry work. They’re wearing their shifts, stays, petticoats, neck handkerchiefs, caps and shoes. (I particularly like the woman working at the tub; you can see the angle of her stays diverging from her spine as she bends forward; it’s a fine little detail and very accurate.)

So women wore one of their shifts, their stays, petticoat(s), stockings and shoes.

And that brings us to the question, How many shifts did they have?

Several months ago I had the luxury of doing some research in the manuscript collections at work, and found MSS 957, the Stafford Family Papers. In those papers there is an undated estate inventory, thought to be from ca. 1780-1799. It’s extensive, and while I have a hand-writen transcription of the whole, I’ll quote the most relevant entry:

5 shifts [illegible]

Yes, five shifts. A woman who owned five slaves had five shifts. They were not for her slaves (though that leads to yet another set of questions about people who were property owning property…and where might that be enumerated?). And if she was laid out in a shift, or wearing one when she died, was it counted, too?

With five shifts, this unidentified woman could have worn each for two days and managed a washing every week–or rather, managed for another day or two or three while her slave women washed, dryed, and ironed her clothing.

In The Dress of the People, Styles points out in Chapter 2 that the largest differences between what the rich and poor wore lay in “numbers, quality and value,” (p. 31) and tables in the back lay out the different number of shifts lost by different women in a fire on an afternoon in May, 1789, in Brandon, Suffolk, England. A blacksmith’s wife lost six shifts, the mantua maker lost one. We can’t know if that emphatically means the mantua maker had but two shifts, or if she saved more than the blacksmith’s wife; one servant lost seven shifts! What we can tell is that women had more than one shift.

We can’t take one undated inventory as typical of 18th century clothing inventories in Rhode Island, (more research lies ahead of me) but counting shifts would be an interesting exercise. Based on my own experience, I can verify that one wants more than one shift. I think it likely that inventories will turn up multiple shifts for women, and shirts for men, no matter where we look, and that this will probably hold true even for slaves. Styles reminds us that the differences are not just numbers, but quality and value.

Curtains for Gowns as Menswear Beckons

Curtain Along Gown…so close!

Or perhaps bellows, considering it’s soldiers’ clothes I’ll be sewing for a while.  I made significant progress on the Curtain Along gown since last weekend, when it was a mere bodice. It’s meant to be worn with the fluffy Ikea curtain petticoat for maximum “I’m not a window, but I dress like one” effect.  There’s a set on Flickr to show you the pitfalls of 18th century sleevils on Cassandra (without a scapula, poor thing, she can’t really fill a sleeve).

1795-1800, V&A
1795-1800, V&A

It’s based on the chintz gown from the V&A seen here before. For a pattern, I used the Past Patterns Front Closing Gown because I know how it fits. The waistline has been dropped on the bodice just as I did on the wool version I made, to suit my age. There’s more to do than the hem; I plan to add a thin band at the bottom edge of the bodice to carry the drawstring and drop the waist in front just a bit. I think it will fit better, and hide the petticoat’s waistband.

It won’t be done today, but I think I have made enough progress for something I won’t need until the end of May. It’s time now to switch to menswear. We have an overall appointment this afternoon, which could diverge into fitting coats. I’ll be seated at the feet of a master, and for that I am grateful. Scheming about how to get a wool gown down by April while basting and stitching and buttonholing, but grateful nonetheless.