Tag: sewing

Sacques-Piration

On By kittycalashIn A Silk Sacque, making things

Once upon a time, I fell in love with cross-barred sacques. The style appealed to me for the way it combined a high-style 18th-century feminine form (the sacque, worn over hoops) with a tailored, streamlined look (the cross-barred fabric). That was 2013. Ten years elapsed before I tried again, without success (i.e. finishing the gown).

IMG_3414After a workshop at Burnley & Trowbridge led by Brooke Wellborn, I realized how little thought I’d given sacques in the past decade, and how little I actually knew. Workshops tend to produce that effect in me, which I why I sign up for them. When, in 2023, I looked back at what I’d been doing in 2013, I thought only of trying to complete the project. Now when I look back, I see so many things I need to change. So long, bodice fronts. So long, pleat stitching. I’m almost sure I have enough fabric left to make those changes. The width of the back pleats on the 2013 sacque suggest a style from a period earlier than I typically represent, but not impossibly early.  Still, they are stitched too far down my back– the pleats should release where the armscye starts its descent to the underarm. Deeper than that, the pleats look clumsy.

As I look even more closely, I begin to wonder if, instead, I need to make that gown over completely, possibly into an English or nightgown. The side pleats are not where I want them;  the back pulls in the wrong direction; and I don’t like where the side seam lands.  There is so much to change.

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Back pleats! Finding the rhythm– but also, notice the direction of the grain. Opposite gown # 1.

The gown I started at Burnley & Trowbridge was made differently from the start. The largest difference was setting a baseline from which to generate the rest of the gown. It’s a different process entirely, which is not to say that one is better than another, only that I understand the results of one better than the other.

Screenshot
Screenshot of the gown at the end of the workshop

There are points of fitting to correct in this new cross-barred sacque, all focused on smoothing the bodice. Whether that can be done while maintaining the initial sleeve set remains to be seen. I can imagine ways to manage that, but it’s definitely sewing without a safety net.

What’s In a Wardrobe?

On By kittycalashIn Clothing, History, material culture, Research
Ann Bamford & unreadable (below ground) Luke Exall Bamford?
Ann Bamford & unreadable (below ground) Luke Exall Bamford?

Like Mary Cooley, Mrs. Ann Bamford provides a look into what a woman wore in the 18th century. Born in 1735, Mrs. Bamford’s estate inventory was created after her death at the age of 64 in May, 1799. (She is buried in the St. John the Baptist Churchyard, Borough of Harrow, Greater London. Her gravestone notes she was “An anxious wife and mother,” and records that she was married state to Luke Exall Bamford for 35 years and 17 days. That tells us that the Bamfords married in 1764, when she was 29. I love this detail of the late-20s marriage, actually reasonably typical for women of the period. When Anne Pearson and James Sparks married in 1772, they were roughly 43 and 50, respectively. Older, certainly than Mrs. Bamford when she married (James Sparks’ first marriage was in 1751, when he was 25; and early marriage, but he was by then already a Captain and ship’s master). 

Six years, at most, separate the Ann(e)s, Bamford and Sparks. In 1799, Anne Pearson Sparks is 70 or nearly so, married to a former Captain now gentleman and living in England, so the Bamford probate inventory provides a window into what the fashionable and well-to-lady of a certain age might have owned.

lwlacq000090The inventory, taken by a man,  and now in the collection of the Lewis Walpole Library, may suffer from a lack of feminine insight when it comes to descriptions, but it is comprehensive, listing at least 399 items. It begins: 

  • A Brocaded Sik Nightgown
  • A Gold Laced Jacket and Pettycoat silk grosgrain
  • A pair of pocket hoops
  • Two white petticoats worked at the bottom
  • A Black velvet bonnet
  • A Black Bombazine Negligee and Pettycoat
  • A piece of Printed Muslin for a Gown
  • One sprigged muslin nightgown
  • One Brocaded silk gown unmadeup

In the entire list, there are (among other things):

  • 3 jackets and petticoats, probably riding habits
  • 15 gowns and nightgowns
  • 5 negligees or sacque-back gowns
  • 20 petticoats
  • 14 shifts
  • 28 pairs of sleeve ruffles (various sizes, some worked, some laced)
  • 8 pairs of shoes
  • 3 waistcoats; 2 white, 1 fustian
  • 45 aprons, cloth, muslin, net, worked and embroidered
  • 33 caps, including wired caps and caps “with ribands”
  • 4 bonnets, including one in black velvet and one white
  • 11 hats
  • 26 pairs of stockings, including a pair in green silk
  • 3 stomachers
  • 12 cloaks
  • 58 handkerchiefs of various kinds, some “for wearing,” some worked (embroidered) in gold and silver
  • 5 entries described as“gown unmade up”

    a stack of 18th century hats and patterned handkerchiefs sit on a check blanket
    I love a stack of hats and handkerchiefs, too! Hats & hankies from Burnley & Trowbridge

There’s no reliable way to know when the gowns were made, or what exact style they are. We cannot know the state of all 45 aprons, the styles of all 33 caps, or 4 bonnets. There’s hope in the five gowns “unmade up.” There’s frivolity and impulse purchasing in 58 handkerchiefs. Fifty-eight! 26 pairs of stockings, one pair of green silk, and one pair of thread with clocks, but the majority seem to be worsted. 

What does Ann Bamford not have? There are no quilted or matelasse petticoats; this may be a function of the list being made in 1799 when the fashionable shape shifted away from the round bell provided by quilted petticoats, but Ann retains a pair of pocket hoops and has no rumps or pads. The infrastructure of a fashionable shape for the 1780s and 1790s seems missing. 

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Cabinet des Modes, August 1, 1786.

It’s likely that the inventory contains clothing from a range of years, possibly dating back to Ann’s marriage. The brocade gowns may well have been reworked from earlier styles, and the jacket-and-petticoat combination in silk grosgrain with lace sounds like the laced and decorated riding habits of the 1760s when Ann was married. As styles changed in the 1770s and 1780s, she might have had additional riding habits made, since they were worn as traveling and visiting costumes and even at home. There are other clues: the black bombazine nightgown and petticoat and the black silk negligee and petticoat suggest mourning, as do the silver silk negligee and petticoat (there is a second silver silk petticoat as well). These would provide stages of mourning, deepest in black and half in silver. English, Ann’s mourning garb might have been worn for deaths in the royal family (like Barbara Johnson) as well as for her own family. (In this context, negligee describes an informal gown, that is, one worn at home, during the day. Nightgowns, or English gowns, were slightly more formal, for day or evening wear. There are subtle distinctions lost to us, but not entirely dissimilar from our “work to evening” outfits where accessories can change an outfit’s meaning.

1830s Riding Jacket

On By kittycalashIn 1830s

There’s a wonderful exhibit winding up a tour, and although I have not been able (yet?) to see it, the catalog was a Christmas present in 2022. One ensemble in particular captivated me: an 1830s unbleached linen riding jacket worn in Boston, MA. The enormous sleeves and oversized hat probably contributed to my fascination, and with a place to actually wear such a thing, making seemed like a good idea. Or at least an achievable idea. 

This journey started in July, 2022, and was finished in August, 2023. Things happened.

I started with a muslin mock-up, of course, using a previous year’s Spencer a l’Hussard as a starting point. (There is a point when you’ve made enough different things that you can kit-bash your way to many new garments.) The biggest change to the Spencer pattern was in the front closing and collar. The a l’Hussard has a standing collar and fastens with hooks, while this has a fall collar, lapels, and closes with buttons.

There are no published images of the front of the extant jacket, so I looked at both fashion plates and other extant riding habits, ultimately deciding to make a single-breasted jacket.

The construction is straightforward, and much like a gown from the period. The bodice is lined, while the sleeves are not. I took advantage of the smaller piece sizes to use up some linen cabbage, and got myself a flashy mis-matched lining as a bonus. One of the trickiest parts was figuring out sleeve supports. I had a melt down over the cage supports, which showed through the lightweight linen and looked awful. I tried them first because I was concerned about the heat down- or wool-filled sleeve puffs would generate for an Labor Day weekend event. In the end, I remembered that I had cotton organdy, and that crumpled up to a nice volume inside some polished cotton covers. These are made with twill tape to attach them to stay straps, if you’re wearing them under a gown; the straps slip over your arms and the puffs rest more or less on your biceps.

Unfortunately, I became anemic while I was making this, and attending a workshop not long before we were supposed to travel to New England wore me out to the extent that we could not travel. Truly annoying, both in thwarted plans and how lousy I felt. Many iron supplements and one appendectomy later, we decided we would make it to the Militia Muster event at Old Sturbridge Village. (It was quite a year.)

To finish this, I stitched on the black wool tape, outlinng back seams, the hem of the peplim, and the front edges. I couldn’t tell from the images whether or not the original had tape, but decided to err on the side of embellished, especially since the cuffs and collar were black velvet. I added custom black velvet buttons embellished with silk thread, made by Blue Cat Buttonworks. Truly lovely, and not within my skill level.

I had planned to wear this with the blue cotton skirt and a riding shirt or habit shirt, but I miscalculated the neck opening and ended up without enough time to restart, so I borrowed a shirt from Mr. K. Luckily the sleeve plumper fit over the shirt, and the jacket fit over all of it! The weather was lovely for early September in New England, and I spent a pleasant day talking about women’s sportswear and the rising interest in physical culture as part of a well-rounded and healthy education in the early 19th century.

The ensemble is accessorized with a black velvet wheel cap, for which Mr. K made the shiny leather brim. The reticule/workbag was made by Anna Worden, and the shoes are black leather Robert Land Regency slippers. The unbleached linen and checked linen lining came from Burnley and Trowbridge, while the skirt fabric came from a Rhode Island mill store remnant table. 

A Pelisse for Emma Smith

On By kittycalashIn 1830s, Clothing, making things

This was an interesting project that only needed to fit my small mannequin, which was a relief since the ultimate client was in Ohio.
It started with a conversation in the summer of 2022 about 1830s pelisses. I have an interest in the decade because we spend time at Old Sturbridge Village, and it’s a weird time period. I like the way that sleeves get smaller after the crash of 1837, and the various ways you can connect fashion and style to economics and politics. (See American Fancy, by Sumpter Priddy.)

Diana Sperling drew herself and her sisters– along with their brother Henry– walking to a neighbors for dinner in the 1810s

Pelisses were worn in the United States (and Europe) from the 1810s onward, though the bright scarlet wool cloak also persisted in use. The durability and water-resistance of the cloak, and the forgivingly loose fit, recommended them for continued use, Pelisses and cloaks were eventually superseded by sacques, dolmans, paletotes, and shawls, all of which accommodated the larger skirts and crinolines of the 1850s and 1860s. Many of these forms evolve but persist– think of the opera coat of the 1920s through 1960s, with its short sleeves, working over a range of silhouettes from shift dresses to tent dresses to bubble skirts.

The typical colors seem to have been green or brown, with some stripes appearing as well. For this garment, I selected a range of green-brown silks for the client to choose from and, eventually, we settled on Silk Baron’s Ardennes green silk taffeta and I ordered the yardage. The lining was made of Renaissance Fabric’s polished cotton-poly blend, as the closest material I could find to the polished or glazed cotton linings seen in period garments.

Lining and exterior, with fabrics for a wadded hood
I had help drafting shapes, of course.

The pattern was scaled down from my own Spencer pattern, and draped to fit the mannequin. The sleeve pattern was a bit of kit-bashing, working between the Past Patterns Lowell Mill Girl’s dress sleeve and my own 1820s sleeve. I chose to err on the side of less enormous, trying to walk a line between fashionable but not too outre. For Boston, I’d make enormous sleeves; for the shore of Lake Erie, northeast of Cleveland, I went a little smaller.

The bodice, sleeves, pelerine, collar, and skirt were all constructed with padded laters of woo batting between the silk exterior and the cotton lining. This was not a fun project to quilt, given the taught weave of both the silk and cotton layers, but the quilting and piping add snazzy details to the edges– and both were typical in pelisses, Spencers, and gowns of the period. 

The sleeve puff is achieved in part through tiny pleating inside, a technique copied from the 1820s original gown in my collection, which was handy resource to have on hand, if a bit of splurge.

If I were to make one of these for myself, I would look for a lighter-weight silk taffeta, and I would consider a striped fabric. Some pelisses are less shaped– that is, they’re made more like a bathrobe, without a separate bodice and skirt (see Jane Austen’s pelisse, patterned and recreated by Hilary Davidson), but I prefer the shaped silhouette.