A Milliner’s Wardrobe

Among the things I ponder about Anne Pearson Sparks is what she wore, and how much clothing she had. She would have seen the latest fashions and fabrics when she traveled to England to buy millinery goods. How did she translate those styles for her Philadelphia customers, like Mrs. Cadwalader, and how did she interpret them for herself? It’s largely unknowable since there are no known images of Anne. Probate inventories provide insights into the quantity and type of clothing women had in the 1770s. They skew higher income since people without wealth had so much less to leave, but given that Anne Pearson owned her own house, and had a £2700 marriage settlement, she certainly had means.

(Above right, Portrait of a woman by Charles Willson Peale, ca 1775. Metropolitan Museum of Art Accession Number: 26.129.2)

The February 1778 inventory of Mary Cooley’s estate, digitized by Colonial Williamsburg, provides an extensive list of clothing and other items owned by a York County (VA) midwife, including 10 gowns, 6 petticoats, 9 shifts, 5 pairs of shoes (4 leather and one black satin), 15 caps, 9 “chex” (checked) aprons, and 4 other aprons, presumably white. The type of gown is not specified, that is, they are not itemized as “nightgowns,” “sacks,” or “negligees,” though there is an additional wrapper. No bedgowns appear on the list, and there is only one pair of stays. Since only items with value (i.e. sale value) were listed, Mary Cooley’s total inventory probably included bedgowns. The clothing worn by the enslaved woman Bett and her child Peter was also probably not on the list. Bett and Peter appear at the end of the list after items typically found in a kitchen, where they probably worked, lived, and slept; it is likely their clothes were few and had no value.

What does Mary Cooley’s list suggest for Anne Pearson?

The gowns include:

  • 1 Brown damask Gown 60
  • 1 black Callimanco Gown 60
  • 1 Striped Holland Gown 70
  • 1 dark ground Callico Do. 70
  • 1 Callico Do. £5 
  • 1 flower’d Do. £7 
  • 1 India brown Persian Do. £3..10/
  • 1 Purple Do. £5 
  • 1 flower’d Crimson Sattin Do. £12
  • 1 Striped Holland Gown 70/

That gives us:

  • 2 Holland (fine linen) gowns suited to the hot, humid Tidewater.
  • 1 Calamanco (glazed woolen) gown, best for winter 
  • 1 Damask (probably silk, could be silk and wool) gown, worth 60 shillings ( £3), so less than the silks
  • 3 Calico (cotton, probably all printed, one with a dark ground), also suited to Tidewater 
  • 3 Silk gowns, in “India brown,” flowered crimson satin, and purple Persian. 
Woman’s Round Gown (Robe à l’anglaise) c. 1775-1780s. Striped cotton plain weave. Accession Number:
1959-113-1 Philadelphia Museum of Art

Linen, wool, silk. Living in Philadelphia, Anne Pearson probably had more wool than Mary Cooley; how many more? Would we swap one linen and cotton for two woolen (stuff or worsted or calamanco) gowns? Would we swap a cotton gown for a riding habit? Anne traveled back and forth between Philadelphia and London for years, and a riding habit or (and?) a Brunswick would make sense for travel. With appearance a key part of advertising her trade and reputation, Anne probably had more than 10 gowns, but call it 10 and add at least a riding habit.

Then we add petticoats. Petticoats expand a wardrobe by matching or contrasting with open robe gowns. Six petticoats! That’s a good number of options, but remember, they need to balance the seasons.

Mary Cooley has:

  • 1 Pink Persian Quilt
  • 1 Black Shalloon Petticoat
  • 1 Blue Callimanco Petticoat
  • 1 India Cotton Petticoat
  • 1 old striped Stuff Quilt
  • 1 blue Quilted Petticoat
Quilted Petticoat, 1770-1775. Colonial Williamsburg OBJECT NUMBER 1995-191

The pink Persian (silk) quilted petticoat certainly came from a milliner’s shop, and was likely made in England; it could easily be worn with those silk gowns. Having the color here helps us begin to imagine the combinations. Pink Persian and brown damask? Black shalloon and black calamanco? Black calamanco and blue calamanco? The India cotton petticoat was probably worn with one of the calico gowns, and we can contemplate striped stuff with a striped Holland gown. In any case, Mary Cooley’s two, possibly three, quilted petticoats helped her keep warm in silk, calico, or linen. The blue calamanco petticoat might also have been quilted; there are many calamanco whole-cloth quilts, and I like to imagine one as vibrant and shining as this quilt or perhaps this one. Quilted or not, under candlelight both gown and petticoat would glisten. 

Deep Indigo Glazed Calamanco Quilt, Probably New England, Late 18th Century

Bonnet Remodel


I had a bonnet I made in 2014 (I think) that had been languishing in a box for years. I liked it– the soft tip was unusual, and the vintage ribbon and pink paper roses from the V&A went well with the dull grey– but I didn’t wear it. Sunday morning, I woke up resolved to remake the bonnet into something I will wear.

An upcoming weekend event in Dutchess County has me trawling through the fashion plates again, along with research helpfully sent along by the event organizers. A particular plate has stuck with me for some time, and finally I had the skill set necessary to tackle the thing. It takes making and looking and failing and remaking to figure out these things.

Step one was to take apart the bonnet-as-was. Satisfying work, really, not as unnerving as I feared it might be. And then? Paper patterns to figure out the sizes of the ridge and crest pieces.

I’d already committed myself to the silver-grey taffeta– slightly slubby, so second-chop, I’d already made muff cover, and had just enough left for a bonnet. The silver-grey seemed well-suited to a helmet-inspired style, and came close to the deep grey of the gros de Naples of the plate.

For mull, I used organic cotton quilt batting. It’s a little thick, but I pull my stitches tight and don’t want the buckram or pasteboard to show too much. The old brim piece served as a pattern for new, though I did have to use a different color for the brim lining.

The ridge was cut from homemade buckram (gum arabic on coarse linen from Burnley and Trowbridge). I used heavy cotton organdy to interline the crest. I know there is a way to get the ruffle more even, but my brain hasn’t produced it yet. Cartridge pleats and starch come to mind, along with goffering irons, as places to start. For now, this represents a Hudson River Valley milliner’s interpretation of the latest fashions.

The crown is taken from the 1770s bonnet I made, to take advantage of the way that crown slopes from a brim shaped like this one. If I were to make another one of these, I might switch up the order of assembly, and I might make the ridge piece of interfaced taffeta instead of taffeta-covered wired buckram.

The finished bonnet reused the same ties as the original bonnet, with a similar Petersham or grosgrain ribbon band. With my 2014 pelisse and a new muff, the only new accessory I’d like to make (or can remember wanting to make) is another, slightly larger, reticule to complete the ensemble.

Bonnet UnBoxing

I’m really looking forward to recreating this (and to making a custom stand for it). It reminds me of the lovely brown bonnet sold by Augusta Auctions ten years ago. Poking around in fashion plates, I’d be comfortable putting a date range of 1825-1835 on this, with a likely date of ca. 1828. The two-part construction, the exuberance of the caned brim, and the color suggest to me that this is pre-1837 (when the effects of the economic crash can be seen almost immediately in smaller sleeves and tighter bonnets). Still, combing through fashion plates is never dull and I look forward to learning more in the year ahead.

“Now Selling at Prime Cost”

Although I’ve portrayed a milliner before, the earliest iteration has been as a shopkeeper in August, 1804, so I thought it best to refresh my knowledge of what 18th century milliners advertised. (Deep dives into bonnets help me focus on bonnets, but necessarily what else was being sold.)

Pennsylvania [Philadelphia] Packet, January 15, 1772.

One of my favorite ads is from the January 15, 1772 Pennsylvania Packet. Mary Symonds of Philadelphia published an extensive list of goods, many of which will lead you down a rabbit hole. Three of the listings had particular appeal.

“Womens’ and childrens’ black and coloured silk, Dunstable and chip hats, and bonnets”

“Black and coloured silk” almost surely encompasses the range of colored silk bonnets seen in Boston advertisements, but what’s the difference between Dunstable and chip hats? Price, of course. What most of us think of, or call, “chip” hats should be called Dunstable or simply straw.

Chip hats like the one above in the Snowshill Wade Costume Collection, were made of plaited (woven) thin strips of wood, more like flat baskets or chair seats.

Straw hats, like the one above (also in the Snowshill Wade Costume Collection) are clearly finer than chip and do not need to be covered. The earliest description of the distinctions between hat types that I’ve found thus far is from 1815, in “An Encyclopæaedia of Domestic Economy, Comprising Such Subjects as are Most Immediately Connected with Housekeeping etc etc” which goes into some detail.


The most entertaining discussion I found was in  The Sessional Papers Printed By Order Of The House Of Lords, Or Presented By Royal Command, In The Session 4 And 5 Victoriae And The Session 5 Victoriae 1841. The recorded exchange resonates with current discussions of tariffs on imports, but the really revelatory bit is this:

Class distinctions expressed in materials and apparel are eternal.

“Tobines” were new to me (or at least forgotten) and have nothing at all to do with the bishop of Providence. Thankfully, Textiles in America has the answer: “A wide variety of dress materials from fine silks to silk and worsted, and linen and cotton combinations that have warp-float patterns of small flowers or intermittent stripes and dots.” (p 367). Once you’ve seen it, you realize you’ve seen it before.

Berch papers, Nordiska Museet.

“Childbed baskets” were also a new concept to me, but The Female Reader, Or, Miscellaneous Pieces in Prose and Verse; Selected from the Best Writers, … for the Improvement of Young Women illuminated the term; the current equivalent is a layette set that includes bedding, and goes beyond the crocheted sweater, cap and booties some of us came to fear receiving. (Mint green acrylic? really?)

It’s a wide range of goods for women to buy (including small accessories for the men and boys in their families), and somewhat beyond the bonnets-hats-jewelry-trimmings we typically associate with milliners. While I don’t have any plans to start manufacturing chip bonnets or making up childbed baskets, I am definitely intrigued by the possibility of expanding my “offerings.”