I’ll be a maid in Newport again this February, and for that event, I’ve made the skritchy rust brown gown.
Not quite finished, it still requires hemming and something to finish the sleeves, but in three days, I got pretty far, considering.
This back-closing bodice with bust darts was pretty awful to fit– strange relationships developed between the bodice neckline and a waistband now discarded and on its way to Johnston.
The back closes with a drawstring at neck and waist, as simple as possible. Mr S and I discovered that fitting a bodice back was deleterious to our relationship, so drawstrings won over buttons. I can tie the lower string, but not the upper– annoying, as I was trying to make a gown that was easy enough to put on solo at 4:30 AM. Vanity won over a pinned apron front gown, though I know they exist in Rhode Island collections. The skritchy rust-brown cotton pays homage to that extant garment, which is a rough homespun brown wool. I may not be stylin’ extant, but I’ll be itching correctly.
The great coat is nice, but how ’bout them gaiters?
Winter is firmly here, with the snow, fog and ice that marks the season in the Ocean State. It’s not fun weather for living in the past, though there’s not a lot of that happening right now. Even so, there’s a February program on the horizon and what better excuse for fastening on a garment and making it?
Even if I’ll likely spend the day in a kitchen interpreting life below stairs in 1820 (while the light infantry occupies my living room and denudes my kitchen), an early 19th century event on a winter weekend seemed a worthwhile excuse for making a greatcoat, and, eventually, gaiters.
With no pattern, and only 2 and 3/4 yards of thick, soft, grey double faced wool*, I’m adapting my standard Spencer pattern. I didn’t upsize this too much, because women didn’t have frock coats and waistcoats to wear under their greatcoats or Carrick [carriage?] coats or Reding cotes. (I’m too engrossed with sewing to parse garment names.) The skirts will be attached at the waist, with a belt to hide the seam. At my height, cutting a back in one piece takes yardage I do not possess. Happily, the Taylor’s Instructor describes Redingcoats or Habits for women with attached skirts.
It’s a new collar shape.
The collar shape diverges from my usual 1790s collar, and is based on another fashion plate, this time from 1815. The program I’ll be doing with Sew 18th Century is set in 1820. As a maid, I think an 1815 coat is pushing it a bit, since red wool cloaks hold up well, but I’ll take any excuse for some tailoring, I suppose.
1815, with a round collar that can stand up.
I plan to use this button arrangement, too, stylish as it is in not-quite-double breasted. Bring on the button-making– we all have to go death’s head sometime, and this wool is too thick for covered buttons without much heartbreak.
The lower front pins are there from the moment when I realized the front was hanging strangely — because I had neither marked nor sewn the bust darts. That oversight, and the pain in my ear, do suggest that the delightful cold I’ve had for weeks may be affecting me more than I think– but that’s just another argument in favor of a cozy wool coat.
The sleeve pattern (again, not upsized) is once again the old standby two-piece sleeve from Henry Cooke’s 1770s unlined man’s frock coat, so of course it fits well.
I’m hoping to stitch up the sleeves this evening, and set them later this week. I’m still pondering lining materials– there’s just enough silk “persian” to do the body and sleeves–but I have some twilled wool that would increase the warmth and still provide some ‘slip’ in the sleeves.
And those blue gaiters? They’ll come in time, from the scraps of blue wool a friend is making his first ditto suit from. I’ll spot him some remnant table chintz for a summer waistcoat, and expect greater sartorial splendor will grace the spitting stamp inspector in Newport this August in exchange for my blue wool ankles.
*Holy burned hair smell, Batman! Mr Cooke’s right when he says this almost feels like foam, but put a flame to it, and you might as well be smoking sheep.
We had a busy weekend, as I suspect most people did, though we don’t do “Black Friday” shopping. There’s plenty else to do, especially when you have greatcoats on the brain, and an annual meeting to attend. By nine o’clock Sunday night, Mr S and I were unwinding while watching the Wizard of Oz, when the Young Mr announced that he had forgotten that he needed to be a tree on Tuesday. An apple tree, actually, for the Wizard of Oz segment they’re doing in theatre class.
The three of us came up with a solution involving tan or brown trousers, a green t-shirt or sweatshirt, paper leaves, Christmas ornaments and the stapler.
Fortunately, I had to run errands last night after work, so I was already headed towards the craft store, where I found a green t-shirt and three sheets each of dark and medium green paper. We drew templates on scrap cardboard and cut the brown leaves from paper bags.
And yes, picky stitcher that I am, we stapled those leaves on, and the apples, too.
The apples really are Christmas tree ornaments, left over from St. Louis when we lived in big old row house with very high ceilings, and once got a tree far too large for our living room or the number of ornaments we had.
He seems pleased enough with his quick costume. Maybe next time the Young Mr will remember just a little sooner… though I doubt it.
Yes, finished! And just in time, too! The braid arrived in the mail three days before the Spencer was wanted, and fortunately I had finished the garment by then, and the baking could take care of itself after a while, and I managed not to get eggs beaten with sugar on any lovely wool or mohair.
I think it looks well enough with the gown and bonnet, though I am fairly certain the darts are too far to the sides in this iteration. How that happens when you use the same pattern twice I do not know.
As mentioned previously, the cuffs are pieced, but this is a perfectly accurate way to deal with a shortage of material and/or cuffs.
I’m fairly pleased with how it turned out, and very pleased with how warm it is. Over the cotton gown, the Spencer was plenty warm– and I certainly wished I had it after we left the house and went down to the river!
On the whole, I suppose I’m pleased…as pleased as I ever am …which means you can expect pattern revisions in the future!
I play the maid a lot, or one the lower sort, both at home and abroad.
Kirsten Hammerstrom 
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