Tag: making things

A Snuff-Coloured Cloak

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, making things

In August, the Museum of the American Revolution contacted me about making a snuff-colored cloak. Although many 18th-century women’s cloaks were red, some were not. Newspapers carry ads for stolen goods and runaways in brown camblet cloaks lined with baize; white silk cloaks; black silk cloaks; and cloth cloaks, which are probably “cloth colored” wool– what we would think of as drab or beige. The Museum referenced an ad from the Pennsylvania Gazette of April 30, 1777, May 7, 1777, and May 21, 1777. 

Run away from the subscriber, living in Evesham township, in the State of New Jersey, Burlington county, on the 20th of April. 1777, a certain Sarah McGee, Irish descent, born in Philadelphia; she is about 23 years of age, about 5 feet 7 inches high, very lusty made in proportion; she had on when she went away, a snuff coloured worsted long gown, a spotted calico petticoat, stays and a good white apron, a snuff colored cloak, faced with snuff coloured shalloon, a black silk bonnet, with a ribbon around the crown: She was seen with her mother, in Philadelphia, who lives in Shippen street, where it is supposed she is concealed. Whoever takes up said servant and brings her to her master, or puts her in confinement, so that her master gets her again, shall have the above reward, and reasonable charges, paid by Barzillai Coat
Pennsylvania Gazette, May 7, 1777. page 3

 “Run away from the subscriber, living in Evesham township, in the State of New Jersey, Burlington county, on the 20th of April. 1777, a certain Sarah McGee, Irish descent, born in Philadelphia; she is about 23 years of age, about 5 feet 7 inches high, very lusty made in proportion; she had on when she went away, a snuff coloured worsted long gown, a spotted calico petticoat, stays and a good white apron, a snuff colored cloak, faced with snuff coloured shalloon, a black silk bonnet, with a ribbon around the crown: She was seen with her mother, in Philadelphia, who lives in Shippen street, where it is supposed she is concealed. Whoever takes up said servant and brings her to her master, or puts her in confinement, so that her master gets her again, shall have the above reward, and reasonable charges, paid by Barzillai Coat”

I was not clever enough to latch onto the snuff-coloured shalloon facings, but I made up a hooded cloak with a snuff-coloured silk lining and dispatched it just before school started. (I doubt I could have achieved a happy color match in any modern “shalloon.”) I’d picked up the wool and silk in Natick, Massachusetts on a summer trip in 2018, and had planned — and put off– a snuff-coloured cloak of my own. Oh well. 

a hand drawn sketch of a cloak layout, showing an arc with measurements
Highly Scientific

As the semester drew to a close, the cloak started gnawing at me. That was really nice wool! And such a nice color! I really had wanted my own cloak. I succumbed to ordering some substitute wool, and over the winter break, made myself a cloak. They only a day or so, once you’ve done the math to chalk and cut the pieces. I have a handy diagram to help me figure it out, adapted from Sue Felshin’s classic post on cloaks. You don’t need much else. 

the pleated back of a cloak hood made of butterscotch colored woolThis wool is heavier than what I’ve used before, and I’m not fully enamored with the drape. Still, this will go a long way towards completing the Cinnamon Toast Crunch Quaker look when I wear it with the brown gown I made this past summer. I love my red cloak, but for a Philadelphia Quaker’s brown gown, a snuff-coloured cloak is a better match. 

The making is really simple. You do want to start with a well-made wool broadcloth or coating that will hold a cut edge– that eliminates a lot of hemming, and takes advantage of the natural characteristics of the wool just as 18th-century makers did. You don’t need a lot; I used 1.75 yards of 52-60” wool, which makes an acceptable length cloak even for me (I am 5’-10”). 

a snuff colored wool cloak on a female mannequin
The finished cloak (and a fancy petticoat)

The cloak neck edge is pleated to a neck size that suits you (annoying, I know, but that’s how this works). The hood is stitched up the center back (I used a butt stitch), with the last 6” or so pleated. This is the trickiest bit. Even strokes make a nice array, but the real trick is stitching the pleats flat so that they hold the shape. Sometimes it turns out better than others; heavier weight wool will be harder to wrangle, as this was. 

a tan and beige cloak hood seen from inside, piecing seams visible
Piecing is period, and appropriate for the inside of hood.

I ended up piecing the silk for the hood lining (piecing is period) and I’m pleased with how that turned out. I barely had the patience to do it, but the result was pleasing and I saved silk, so there’s that. For ties, I used some silk satin ribbon purchased for some other, now-forgotten project. I tend to save materials, thinking I’m not “good enough” to use them– that is, not skilled enough. Well, if not now, when? The cloak and its ribbon ties mean much more worn than that they will stashed in storage. Eat the cake. Buy the shoes. Make the dress, the cloak, the apron, the ruffles. Make whatever brings you joy.

 

 

Tuning Frocks

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Living History, Reenacting

You’ve washed, mended, ironed, darned, and sorted.

Now what? Now, my friend, the hard truths: the assessments and upgrades.

The hard stuff. Winter is a good time to frankly assess what you have, what you need, and what you already have needs. Could that sleeve be re-set? Stroke gathers re-done on an apron waistband? When you’re finally not planning and packing every few weeks, you have the time to really think about what you have and what you want.

There are two primary areas to assess, fit and appropriateness.

Still needs work….
and the bonnet’s too big.

Fit:

How well do your clothes fit you? Are your skirts long enough? Short enough? Are your breeches tight enough? Cut correctly? Waistcoats long enough? Getting dressed and taking a good look at your clothes can be enlightening. I find that photographs help me figure out issues with fit. As Drunk Tailor and I work, we take photos (especially of backs) so that whoever is being fitted can see what the fitter sees. This has proven more useful than attempting to turn around to see one’s own back like a cat chasing its tail. I’ve also used mirrors and selfies to achieve similar results, but even a non-sewing friend can take a picture of your back.

Now I can see what works
and what to work on.

Period-correct clothes fit differently than modern off-the-rack clothes (you know this), so looking at period images will help you figure out what you need to change. Typically, I find that sleeves are too loose, backs too wide, or bodices too long. Making the changes you need to make can be intimidating, but even 20th-century guides can help you get where you need to go. (The Bishop Method book is super useful if you want to sew vintage clothes, or just get better at sewing clothes in general.) More online sources for 18th-century techniques include the Early Modern Dress & Textiles Research Network , and Burnley and Trowbridge’s videos.

Appropriateness:

Purveying ideas and goods as a milliner is a lot like being a curator.
New York and Maryland

Do you have the right gear for your impression? Are the fabrics correct? Do you have the accessories you need? You know I’m not going to tell you what you need: that’s for you to figure out, but there are some good methods for figuring how what to wear and carry. (Soldiers have it easier: the sergeant tells them, and there are manuals.) For the rest of us in the 18th century, runaway ads are helpful and can be a good source of inspiration for ensembles.

2015
2016

For other centuries, fashion plates and portraits can provide guidance and inspiration, and eventually, there are even pattern books and sewing guides. Small upgrades can make a big difference: in the course of a year, I improved my shoes, upgraded the scarf, and made both a cap a new and better bonnet. It took two more years, but eventually, I really upgraded everything. Sometimes it takes a while to get things right, and that’s okay.

It takes research, and there are some pitfalls (like confirmation bias) but Drunk Tailor lays out some avenues to pursue.  What you choose depends on who you are, so that’s always the place to start: who are you, where do you live, and what do you do? With those questions in mind, you can embark on making the changes to perfect your impressions.

Saturday Afternoon in the Park with Kitty

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, Events, Living History, Reenacting
The strawberries and cream hat, with pinballs and pincushions

Last Saturday, I enjoyed a beautiful late summer afternoon on the lawn at Van Cortlandt House Museum in the Bronx. Built in 1748 for Frederick Van Cortlandt and his family, the house served as Washington’s headquarters in 1776, and again in 1783.

was  The Van Cortlandt House, dating from 1748, is the oldest building in the Bronx.CreditTony Cenicola/The New York Times

It’s an idyllic site, and waking up to the sound of cricket bats and Canada geese, a visitor could be fooled into thinking you were not in the Bronx at all. Mist rose above the cricket pitch when I woke up, a large flock of geese picking at the grass. It was Netherland come to life, men beating bats on their cleats and laughing. I’m really grateful to Mrs M. for the place to sleep and chance for adventure.

This trip was a remarkable cultural experience for me, and one I really needed. Growing up on the north side of Chicago, I was used to urban density and scale, so after two years in Northern Virginia suburbs, a dose of urban life was welcome. It was all the more welcome because instead of spending my time judged by cats, I got to play with dogs (and earned a sore bicep for all the stick and giraffe throwing I did for one). The trip to Stew Leonard’s was remarkable, after the tame mercantile experiences of tiny Rhode Island, and even Wegman’s paled in comparison. It was a good set up for thinking about mercantile enterprises, impulse purchases, and the ways merchants (including milliners) and shop owners needed to keep customers coming back, tempting them with new goods. (Or, in the case of Stew Leonard’s, singing cows and/or milk cartons.)

More bonnets, most of which are available on Etsy

I managed, somehow, to finish a red silk satin quilted petticoat in time (lined with red “stuff” from Burley and Trowbridge, it was not too bed-covering like until the late afternoon) to dress up the Nancy Dawson dress. I didn’t manage to locate my sleeve ruffles in time ( stitched on a garment ) but in other regards, I was pleased with how this turned out.

Bathroom selfie, but you can see that sweet silk petticoat

Dressing my clothes up– that is, moving them up the social ladder– can be a challenge, but good accessories make a big difference. Eventually I will get a finer apron made, one with a ruffle, but for now, that has to wait.

With Lark, perhaps the sweetest little rescue pup I’ve ever met.

I have a trip to Philadelphia to make, bottles to label, and receipts to write. Elizabeth Weed returns to Carpenters Hall this weekend as part of the Occupied Philadelphia programming.

Hints for a New Hobby

On By kittycalashIn Living History, material culture, Reenacting7 Comments

The historical costuming/living history/reenacting hobby can be a daunting one to pick up. When I started, I was fortunate to have a background making things, including sewing my own clothes, as well as a career that taught me research skills, and gave me easy access to primary sources. Those factors made skill building relatively easy, though I definitely had a learning curve specific to what I was doing. As the season opens and people start to ease into new units, I thought about things I found that made this hobby a little easier to manage, and skills easier to acquire.

Same years….
different class levels

Know who (and when) you are. When you step into the past, who are you? Where are you from? What year are you representing? With answers to these questions, you can begin to sort out what you need to know, and where you need to look for answers. What you’ll wear in North Carolina is not what you will wear in coastal New England. The styles of 1750 are not the same as those of 1780– and fashion information traveled quickly from England to America. American colonists were as stylish (or more so) than their English counterparts. Wearing a gown 20 years out of date without alterations is only going to work well if that gown really shows its age (and you do, too).

Learn to do research. If you are going to strike out totally on your own, you need to be able to do research and sift through the sources you find to understand and interpret them appropriately for your situation. What is right for Costume College may well not be right for a camp follower, no matter how accurate the fabrics or construction. It seems so obvious (and in the case of a silk sacque back gown, it really is) but in other ways it’s not. Jackets aren’t going to be right in New England, and calicos are more common in Philadelphia and Rhode Island than they are in Boston.

Lance needles: the best I’ve used.
Rowenta steam iron

Buy good tools. Really: tools matter. Sharp shears, sharp thread snips, good, sharp needles, sturdy pins, a pin cushion, a cutting grid, a steam iron, a sleeve board, a sturdy ironing board: all of these things make my sewing life so much better. (I actually own three ironing boards: a full size board, a table top board, and a sleeve board and use them all.) Tailor’s hams are also useful– that’s what I steam my caps on.

Ruffle attachment in progress. Possible thanks to the material and the needle.

Use good materials. Good fabric is expensive, but what’s your time worth? If you calculate the per-wearing cost of a garment, you’ll find that the “cost” decreases over time. One of my favorite gowns is made of $2.99/yard fabric from a mill store in Rhode Island. (I was very lucky to find a woven check that matched one in a RI sample book.) I bought five yards, so $15. I’ve worn that gown more times than I can count, and it is perfectly filthy. If we calculate $450 for hand sewing, the total cost is $465. Since April 2014, I have worn that gown 12 times (that I recall), making the per-wearing cost $38.75. I’d call that a good value. If we count just the yardage, it’s $1.25 a wearing and honestly, you cannot do better that that.

When it comes to shifts, the ultimate per-wearing cost is even less. My most recent shift of hand-woven linen with vintage linen sleeves would have been $450 in materials, and $425 in hand-sewing. $875 seems crazy, right? Consider the shift I made in 2011, worn to almost every 18th century event I’ve attended (I had two); I’ve worn that shift….45 times that I can recall. That’s $20.83 per wearing, a better value over time than the $2.99/yard gown. If a soldier’s coat can cost $800, and you are going to every event your soldier goes to, an $800 shift is as good a value as the coat, and possibly more essential.

Cost aside, the value of good materials is in the time they save in making. Well-woven linen is easier to sew and will need less mending over time. Sharp shears cut cleaner. Sharp needles sew better, and smaller needles give you finer stitches.

d’oh! surgical tape made this *much* better later.

Learn to sew with a thimble. Your fingers will thank you. I use a leather thimble with a metal tip (from the quilting notions section) and it helps. Thimbles are essential when sewing heavier fabrics like broadcloth and indispensable if you make your own stays (and you can expect bleeding even with a thimble).

Practice patience. Learning a new skill, or refining one you already have, takes time. It isn’t always fun. I get sick of sewing, and have to switch to something else (like cutting out, or research, or patterning) or take a break. Recognize that frustration is often the moment before you master something new, but also know when frustration means it’s time to stop. Just as we build muscle on rest days, our brains process skills when we stop. Then, the next time we pick something up, we’ll be stronger, or more skillful, than if we hadn’t stopped. (This New York Times article was helpful, and inspired this post.)

A purchased bonnet because it’s one I can’t make.

Buy what you cannot make. I thought I needed to make everything myself (with the exception of men’s hats and buttons) but that’s just not true. If you can’t manage fine sewing, buy a cap! If you hate assembling tricky things, buy mitts or a bonnet. I bought caps when I couldn’t make them as well as I wanted, and it saved me hours of frustration. I love flamestitch pinballs, but I can’t manage that needlework yet; lucky for me, I know someone who excels at it, so I can buy from her. Other people have skills, and buying things from them will save you time and frustration, so you can focus on what you really want to do.