A Favorite Gown, at Last


First wearing at the Martin House in Swansea, MA

Most of what I’ve made I’ve hated. It hasn’t been perfect enough. This is pretty much how it works when you are learning something new: your eyes outrun your abilities, and you have to keep working away to build the skills to match your dreams. I’m still building skills, but I have at least managed to get to a place where I can just about trust my ability to make something I can stand to wear.

I’ve also learned that you are likely, in the process of making a gown or what-have-you, to hate the garment in question. My friend hated her Green Gown of Doom, but when it was done and on she liked it. Midway through the Cherry Seller Robe, I hated it, thought it a failure, and wanted to quit.

Persevere: the moment when you are most frustrated is often the moment right before you figure out the thing you have been trying to learn.

Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries... ca. 1759. YCBA,  B1975.3.206
Paul Sandby, London Cries: Black Heart cherries… ca. 1759. YCBA, B1975.3.206

The story behind the Cherry Seller Robe is that I plan to wear it in Boston on August 10, so it is very old fashioned. Based on Paul Sandby’s Black Heart Cherries watercolor, it is open with robings, and made of Burnley & Trowbridge’s wool-cotton “Virginia cloth.” The gown fits in a “v” on the front, and to my eye, has a 1750s look. (I have not finished the cuffs, attached lacing strips, or finished the stomacher; once lacing and stomacher are done, it will fit more like How Now Brown Gown.)

It was windy. Catastrophic hat failure resulted.

For August, I’ll make a white linen petticoat and a tan “Virginia cloth” petticoat, a blue linen apron and, I hope, a new lappet cap. (I had one cut out around here somewhere…) The yellow and blue or yellow-blue-white striped petticoat may have to wait; I have a lead on some in a stash, but no sightings yet.  Making new, lighter-weight petticoats is in anticipation of August weather in downtown Boston. I’m still debating about the kerchief, which seems to be a solid color with a striped border; I may just wear the one I have.

Yesterday was hot and windy, with a chance of hat failure. All in all, a fine day to sew and wear wool.

Can’t talk, sewing.

Raspal,_Antoine_-_The_Couturiers_workshop_-_1760

I wish I had this workshop to help me! Instead, I have the “assistant” who tends to howl and a room full of garments to finish and alter. The skirts of the brown gown are done and want only tape at the hems, so I can, in theory, move onward to sleeves. I’ll have to scrap plans for an HSF petticoat this weekend, as I have really fallen behind.

Menswear, to finish and to alter

Battle Road inspection/walk through is Saturday, and second hand reports of the reactions to letters received have me thinking about authenticity, standards, and communication. Last Saturday, I went to see Sew18thCentury and had a lovely time. Not only did we have a delicious late lunch and tea, an interesting chat about ideas and sewing and all sorts of things, I also got to get outta town on my own. (For growing up in a city, I am very happy to spend time in open spaces with grass, trees, and cows.)

I mentioned to Sew18thCentury that we’d wrestled with Fort Ti and chosen not to go because we did not, in our estimation, meet standards, and she was surprised that we didn’t. In truth, we did not. The guys clothes weren’t right, and I know our blankets aren’t right…heck, our tent’s not right.

What makes it all worse is that I know these things aren’t right. So I’ve tracked down blankets and just need to order them, and the tent–well, not this year, but maybe next, I can get around to sewing a linen bell-back tent. Mr S has learned back-stitching and whip stitching this week, so in a year we could tackle a tent together. It’s a process, and this year, unless there was a miracle of increased speed in sewing, I still wouldn’t go to Fort Ti in September.

But what about Battle Road? This inspection is not just for safety, it’s also for dress and appearance. This has thrown me into a tizzy: the jacket’s not done and the coat’s not altered. If the guys don’t pass inspection, they can’t be part of Battle Road, and I’ll feel bad that I didn’t put alterations first. But realistically, I can’t imagine getting their things done by Saturday morning. At least the coat will have the alteration marks made by the master… the road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but the road to Battle Road is paved with pins and linen thread.

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.

Bloody Overalls

Just started backstitching, already bleeding

But that’s still better than the story I heard yesterday about the incredibly authentic, effluvial-field dipp’d overalls that gave a mender dysentery…you come here for this, right, not the pretty dresses?

My thumb has split– yay, winter!–so everything will be a little trickier. Guess I’ll lay off handling white silk gowns at work, and documents, but the sewing will continue.

The Line of Truth

We went up to the Adjutant’s house yesterday, now that the roads are cleared again, and the lads got measured. Best of all, Mr S got fitted. He has what I ungenerously call “The Hump,” and what the Adjutant describes as “Shoulders Roll Forward.” The Adjutant has tact; I’m the wife, I calls it like I sees it.

It was really helpful. I knew the coat was too big (Mr S is built more like an 18th century soldier than a 21st century office worker), but I knew it had more wrong with it that too much fabric. At left, see the chalk line? The sleeve seam sits at the shoulder point, where I am told it will be uncomfortable as it rubs, which will also wear out the shirt faster. I knew what to do it the sleeve had been on a gown– unstitch it and re-align it under the shoulder strap, mark it and trim the excess off the head. In a way, that’s just what I will do here. There’s also excess to take out of the upper arm, but that’s not too bad for a garment that I made in a hurry and never really fitted to the wearer. And I have until mid-April to do it.

I have two of these greige stacks to transform.

At the same time, I also have to transform two of these piles of pieces into well-fitted, hand-sewn overalls. Despite the pride I’ll feel in accomplishing what I expect will, under guidance, be the best-fitted, most authentic garments I’ve made, saving my green checked apron, there’s a minor measure of terror mixed in to all this…hope those back stitches hold…