The big and fluffy 1920s Robe de Style (CoBloWriMo Day 9)

This project was finished for last Christmas. Ever since I entered it into the HSM, I have procrastinated blogging about it. Firstly, because I have not taken many photos to document making it. And secondly because the process has been full of bloopers.

On the bright side, this gown is big, pink and very poofy. Perfect for today’s prompt… So here we go. Perhaps it is not as frightful as I think. ;)

Lots of big poofiness happening here…

This robe de style has been my very first 1920s project. I made it out of a thin silk crepe. It looks pink in the photos but is in fact eggshell with tiny red woven stripes. The pattern, like all the other ones I have used to date, came from an issue of La Femme de France.

Robe de style pattern from Femme de France, 1927. Click for PDF.

The pattern in the diagram fits a wearer about 165 cm tall. Thanks to the darts, it is pretty flexible as to bust size. To make it fit me, I shortened the bodice by 15 cm and widened the front darts by 2.5 cm at the base.

The back piece of the bodice after cutting out.

And then I made the mistake. I tried to add a lining to make things less transparent. Thankfully, I was skeptical about that idea from the start and asked in the HSM Facebook group. Here Leimomi of The Dreamstress saved my potatoes by pointing out that sheer 1920s gowns were rather left unlined and worn over a dress slip. So I whipped one up, using this free pattern by American Duchess. Pressed for time I grabbed a sleek, taupe cotton poplin from the stash to make it.

The slip, before attaching the straps. As of yet, they are still a bit too long…

The pattern was meant for casual wear so the skirt hangs, rather than stands out. For formal wear, a pannier-like under-construction was used to hold them up. I substituted, using three layers of cream and rose tulle. For extra fullness, I sewed them to a canvas strip and gathered the skirt in one go.

Constructing a full skirt with tulle and canvas.

The un-trimmed robe de style.

To finish off, I added a big bow of leftover tulle and ribbons. Since the neckline decided to be a spoilsport and did not lie flat, I tackled it with some glass beads. In the end the gown was passable and I wore it to the family Christmas celebration. Forgive the weird expression in the photo. It is just that the person taking it had just told me I look like a pink elephant. It is his idea of a compliment but that only dawned on me later… At least my mother told me that her mother had owned a robe just like it. That alone made sewing this whole, poofy monstrosity worthwhile. ;)

The finished elephant robe de style.

Yours, Nessa

More Catching Up: A Red Cloak

Last autumn, I made a new cloak to accompany me to one of my first historical outings, a reenactor’s market. It took place in early October, so my blue wool cloak was too warm and my new linen spencer was a bit too airy. So I went out hunting for a medium-weight, cozy fabric and found just the thing on sale: a dark red felted cotton. It is not really a felt but has a soft, woolly surface texture that leans more towards flannel. Hard to describe, really. I am still no entirely sure whether it would have been used in period, but the color persuaded me to go for it.

In the early Regency era, cardinal red walking cloaks were all the rage. They had already been a fashion item during Georgian times so their passing on into the next century posed a bit of an anachronism. The construction stayed about the same over time, but I have the impression that cloaks became a bit “leaner” in design as they moved on into Regency. The pattern I used was the free walking cloak pattern from the Jane Austen Center. I saved it a long time ago, before they chose to make this content registration only. It is still strange to me why they did this, but I will let that be their business… ;)

All in all, the pattern is not very complicated. The body is a semi-circle with a radius of 150 cm. Being a bit short, my semi-circle has a radius of 130 cm, minus 12 cm for a round neck-opening. I drew the circle directly on the fabric. To make drawing and cutting easier, I took a 260 cm long and 130 cm wide fabric piece and folded it lengthwise before I started. Here is the finished body on the dress form.

The cloak body.

The cloak body.

Afterwards I made up a hood with a self-fabric lining. Then I simply gathered the neckline and sandwiched it between those two layers.

Gathering the neckline.

Gathering the neckline.

The hood shape more or less follows Marquise’s instructions for an 18th-century mantelet; with the exception that the top corner is rounded off and not clipped. After learning how to make proper radial pleats during the baby cap project for my cousins, I decided to add a few. They came out lovely:

Some cute radial pleats on the hood. :)

Some cute radial pleats on the hood. :)

One thing that did not really come out well was the trim. I had made up some hand-gathered ruffles from looong strips of fabric. They started at about 5 times their finished length (wow!) They turned out too heavy, meddling with the hang of the cloak. Since they looked so pretty and a lot of time had gone into making them, I kept them around for future projects. We will see what becomes of them. ;)

Lengths and lengths of hand-ruffled trim.

Lengths and lengths of hand-ruffled trim.

The finished product ties with 2.5 cm seam tape in a matching shade of red. It is all rather plain now, but a real joy to wear. It coordinated well with my working-class costume and kept me warm all day.

The finished cloak.

The finished item. I was so excited of show it off, I forgot my shoes…

And the back.

A look at the back.

Some of the people I met on the road to the event took an interest and started telling me about their friends or family who also wear cloaks at LARP events. I was not really prepared for this. So I told them some more about my costume and fashion in the early Regency era in general. Most were a little surprised that cloaks had still been a thing in the 19th century.

I am glad they know now, because cloaks, from any period, are one of my absolute favorite things to make. They are easy and pretty addictive. That being said, I *might* be working on the next one already; this time from a period where you would not really expect it. I will tell you some more about it in the upcoming planning post for 2017. That is, once I have made sense of my notes at last. It will not be long now… ;)

Until very soon, Nessa

Head Coverings c. 1800: A simple linen cap

Following the old saying “out with the old in with the new” I will start the new year with a long overdue catch-up post. It will be one in a series, since there are still some pretty things from last year I would love to share with you. And with the new Historical Sew Monthly challenges and a heap of fresh sewing ideas, there are new projects awaiting as well.

Today I am going to provide you with some long overdue picture “spam” of the late 18th/early 19th century linen cap I made to go with my short gown. It is really simple but I love it to bits and wear it the most of all my Regency-era caps. For it I used view 3 (bottom left) from the Mill Farm late 18th-century caps pattern, with a few changes to the original make-up.

Mill Farm 18th-century caps pattern.

Mill Farm 18th-century caps pattern.

The changes I made were really few, based on personal taste. For once, I cut out two brim pieces and sandwiched the crown and trim between them. Here the pattern called for a single, hemmed brim to which the hemmed crown and ruffle are attached with whipped gathers. This is the more historically accurate approach for the late 18th century. Since I was not so happy with my whipped gathering skills and was using an itty bitty bobbin lace trim, I opted for the “sandwich” method instead.

Another thing I changed was to add a 1/4″ double-fold casing at the bottom of the crown. It holds a drawstring that holds my rebellious hair in check. I did not add anything for it, since this edge was originally reserved for a 1/4″ rolled hem. In the picture you can see the small hand-bound eyelets for the ties. They work very well on those naughty hairs. ;)

The crown with the finished drawstring casing.

The crown with the finished drawstring casing.

Once the casing was done, the cap went together quickly, even by hand. It helped that the linen was super soft and worked like a charm. The trickiest part was the fiddly eyelet lace for the trim. Though, once the ends were finished and it was attached, it looked so lovely. :) Here are a few images of the finished item, on both Jane (my hat form) and myself:

The finished linen cap, side view.

The finished linen cap, side view.

The finished cap, top view.

The finished cap, top view.

The finished cap, front view.

The finished cap, front view.

The cap on myself. :)

The cap on myself.

And a bit more of the back. :)

And a bit more of the back. :)

And that was it already. I cannot say often enough how happy this simple little project made me, since I completed it mid-thesis when I needed something pretty to distract myself from the work. Now the thesis is finally, finally handed in and I am looking forward to creating new, lovely items for my historical wardrobe.

Once I have fudged out what to make for this year’s HSM challenges, I will share my plans with you. If all works out, I am going to spend some time sewing outside my Regency comfort zone, trying out some new fashion eras. Some of you have already spotted my 1920s robe de style on the Facebook page. It has been my first venture into a different century. I will keep you posted on the other projects to come.

Wishing you all a happy, healthy and joyful 2017. I am excited to see your new, gorgeous sewing creations this year. :)

Until very soon, Nessa

Head Coverings c. 1800: A Bergére-style Bonnet

After another week full of jumble, I want to add a little prettiness to this last day of the week. So I am sharing with you (at last) the early-Regency hat I made for this month’s “Heroes” challenge at the Historical Sew Monthly. The task was to create an item inspired by one of our historical fashion or costuming heroes. Some of the entries I have seen so far are some absolutely stunning costumes offering homage to a wide scale of historical and fictional costume heroes. For example, this very gorgeous open robe Crystal made, inspired by Janet Arnold and some of our fellow historical costumers.

My own entry is a much smaller thing, due to the thesis having seen its hottest phase in July / August (perhaps you can spot some of the paper chaos going on in some of my photos ;) ). It is my third jab at making the bergére hat I have wanted to make for song long now. It is inspired by and based on this tutorial by the Dreamstress whose blog has been a big inspiration for me to get into historical costuming. This makes her my “hero” for the challenge.

But wait… is a bergére not more of an 18th-century item? You are right. Those flat-topped, wide-brimmed straw (and sometimes also felt) hats were an accessory that fit in with the “pastoral” themes of fashion throughout the 18th-century. Here is just one of the many portraits: Eleanor Frances Dixie wearing one of hers with a beautifully patterned sacque gown.

Eleanor Frances Dixie by Henry Pickering (c. 1753).

Eleanor Frances Dixie by Henry Pickering (c. 1753).

At the end of the 18th century, however, the bergére did not disappear completely. Instead it lingered around into the early Regency years (if not longer in the lower classes). Although an interesting new style of wearing these hats emerged around 1800. For this time, there is some proof of the hats being worn tied down with a scarf or ribbon. For once, I found this 1797 portrait by Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun of a young lady who seems to have secured hers against a storm.

portrait-of-a-young-woman[1]

Portrait of a Young Woman by Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun (c.1797; MFA Boston).

And this portrait of Henrietta Marchant from 1800 shows the style I was going for more clearly:

Henrietta Marchant (Mrs. Robert Liston) by Gilbert Stuart (c.1800; National Gallery of Art).

Henrietta Marchant (Mrs. Robert Liston) by Gilbert Stuart (c.1800; National Gallery).

This style, which has informally also been called a “gypsy bonnet” because of its somewhat “adventurous” look was my solution to fit the bergére into my main costuming period. To help me along with shaping it, I used these tips from Jessamyn’s Regency Costume Companion website (scroll down to the “Bonnets” section). Here is how mine came out, in a few photos, from start to finish:

The hat I started with: A real straw boater from Claire's.

The hat I started with: A real straw boater from Claire’s.

I started with this straw hat my parents and I found on my birthday in July. Following the tutorial, I began by separating the crown from the brim, leaving the bottom three rows of it on the brim to be ironed down. I took out about two rows of straw braid in the middle and left the top bit of the crow as is. Since it already had quite sharp angles, I did not have to iron it. They brim I flattened into shape by putting it under a wet towel and ironing over it on medium-high. After sewing the two parts back together, the basic bergére was done.

The finished basic bergére.

The finished basic bergére.

While the hat was still flat, I trimmed it with a red bias strip, about 3/4″ wide after hemming. Bias is really fun to work with when trimming unevenly shaped hat or bonnets. As my hat was oval, it saved me some easing and swearing. ;)

Trimmed with the bias band.

Trimmed with the bias band.

Now came the fun part of molding the hat. This is not strictly necessary, but it makes tying the finished bonnet a lot easier since the brim does not need to be tackled into shape every time. For this I pinned the seam tape I used as a tie into the spot where I wanted it to sit and tied it down firmly on my hat stand. Then I sprayed it with water and let it sit there for about a week. After about three days, I repeated the spraying, just to be sure.

The bonnet molding on the stand.

The bonnet being molded on the stand.

Once the bonnet was in shape, all I had to do was to tack down the tie in several places.

A top view, with the tie stitched in place.

A top view, with the tie stitched in place.

And here is the finished project. Since I still struggle a little with hat-making, the result is perhaps not the most refined head covering; but it is absolutely wearable. And I find it pretty cute, too. :)

The finished hat / bonnet.

The finished bergére-style hat / bonnet.

And now it is back to the last few days of the thesis for me. I hope this post added a little “pretty” to your pre-Halloween Sunday, as it did to mine. Very soon (hopefully) I will try to show you the other early period head covering I made this summer. And please, have a lovely week and a Happy Halloween tomorrow!

Until very soon, Nessa

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A Shortgown At Last

Finally, I got to compile the long-overdue post on my beloved shortgown I finished a few months ago. To start off, here is the finished product: I took these pictures after wearing it to one of my very first costume events (a historical market) so it is not perfectly pressed. ;)

The finished shortgown.

The finished shortgown.

The back, with pleats and a little bow.

The back, with pleats and a little bow.

The fabric I used was a gift from a dear friend who is a Regency/Federal-era costumer herself. She was very, very kind to send it across the Pond after I had spent weeks not finding a suitable fabric for the gown I liked. I am so glad she could help me out. But before I got to work with this beautiful fabric, which is a light, printed quilting cotton, I delved into research to get inspired about possible patterns.

Some Research
To begin with, shortgowns were present in women’s wardrobes in the 18th and early 19th centuries. In the 18th century the were also often known as bedgowns or manteaux de lit. And, while the general style of the gown stayed the same over time, some little details in the cut and shaping changed: Earlier versions of shortgowns were often cut from one piece and more or less symmetrical, with a front opening and a flared skirt section, shaped using pleating and / or tucking. Marquise wrote up some very good instructions for an 18th-century bedgown, based on Garsault’s book, here. Another example for this style, but with a more flared skirt, is the Kallfors gown from Sweden. The reproduction in the link also comes with a pattern. :)

And, while one-piece versions seemed to have been the rule, it is not uncommon to find gowns where the skirt section has been pieced on. This was done in the Kallfors shortgown, too. But it is not easy to spot from further away. Here is another Swedish example from Digitalt Museum where the piecing is more obvious in the lovely, bold stripe pattern.

A mid 18th-century Swedish bedgown from Digitalt Museum.

A mid 18th-century Swedish bedgown from Digitalt Museum.

As time went on towards the Regency era, narrower shoulders and slightly deeper necklines made an appearance as working-class women began to adapt the look that was fashionable at the time. Isabella of the Two Nerdy History Girls wrote a very nice post that sums up these developments. With the changes in shaping, neckline and waist drawstring began to be used in shortgowns. Here is a Dutch example from the very early 19th century that seems to have a neckline drawstring and sports a leaner silhouette than the more flared earlier gowns.

Early 19th-century shortgown from Friesland (Source: Memory of the Netherlands database).

Early 19th-century shortgown from Friesland (Source: Memory of the Netherlands database).

Another Dutch gown, where the drawstrings are a bit more prominent is this brown one. It has a visible join and drawstring at the waits, though the join might also be a casing sewn as a tuck. To me, this one looks super cute and very “Regency” and so it became the main inspiration for my project. Below, I will tell you how I went about making it.

Another Dutch shortgown, probably 19th century, from Amsterdam Museum.

Another Dutch shortgown, probably 19th century, from Amsterdam Museum.

The Making
To make mine, I played around with the Sense & Sensibility ELC pattern I used for my stripe dress last winter. I went with the long-sleeve version of the bodice pattern. The only difference was that I included a front opening. For this, I added an overlap of 3/4″ at the center front and cut two halves of the front piece, instead of a whole one. Here is a photo of my cutting layout and the lovely brown fabric:

The bodice pattern and layout. :)

The bodice pattern and layout. :)

To finish the front overlap, I pressed over 1/8″ and sewed a tiny hand-rolled hem on either side. I think this is how I finally fell in love with making them. They did not take long and came out looking really cute, almost like iced on. After finishing them, I sewed the rest of the bodice according to package… erm pattern instructions. ;)

The 1/8

The 1/8″ rolled hem on the bodice front.

And the finished bodice, with drawstring neckline.

And the finished bodice, with drawstring neckline.

The neckline drawstring casing I made of self-fabric bias binding, also based on the pattern. For the top closure, I sewed two small eyelets into the inside of the casing. They are set off by about 1/2″ so that they tie safely on the inside.

One of the two CF eyelets. :)

One of the two center-front eyelets. Below you also see the casing for the waist drawstring. :)

Like in some of the earlier extant gowns, I also made a separate skirt piece. I had two rectangles for the front that were 8″ long, plus 1 1/4″ for the top and bottom seams. They attach to the back piece at the bodice’s side seam. For the back piece, I played around with the pattern’s skirt piece, which has a curved top seam line. I trimmed it down to 28″ width, to accommodate one box pleat at center back and four small knife pleats on either side. At CB, the piece was about 11″ high and it went down to 8″ on either edge, to fit the front pieces. After sewing the three pieces together, I added two more tiny 1/8″ hems at center front.

The skirt piece, sewn together and hemmed.

The skirt piece, sewn together and hemmed at center front.

After attaching the skirt to the gown, I finished the skirt seam with bias binding. I then sewed it up into the bodice from CF to the side back seam line to form two drawstring casings. The strings tie up to pieces of cord near the back. To finish off, I finally added a little decorative bow to the back. It helps to cinch up the waistline and nicely brings out the pleats. :)

Another “gimmick” my shortgown has is a bodice “lining” piece that keeps everything in place. It was a feature of the S&S pattern and I decided to keep it, since it helps a lot with keeping the gown straight over the stays.

The bodice

The bodice “lining” from scrap fabric.

When I wore it to the event, the lining and outer gown were held together by a total of 30 (!) short pins. And, after spending six hours plus in costume, the whole construction had not budged an inch. I also wore the fichu on the occasion, using even more pins on it and it behaved very well, too. This taught me again that pins really are a great period closure method. And that, no, they do not prick and poke you at all. :D

So, all in all, I am very happy with my first shortgown and actually having worn it “in public” for an event. Here is hoping that I can repeat this again soon.  Until then, it is back to the thesis and more sewing (yay!). Wishing you all a relaxed remainder of the weekend.

Love, Nessa

 

 

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Catching Up: Just a little Fichu

The past week has been a bit busier than expected. So, today’s catch up post will deal with a small, yet nifty, little clothing item: a fichu to go with my working-class ensemble. The one I chose to make is simple, tuckable triangle.

To make it, I had a look at this post from the Oregon Regency Society. It covers fichus in many shapes and sizes. Looking at it tempts me to make at least one of each. One can never have too many fichus … ;) The measurements given in the post may vary based on the wearer’s shoulder width and the back length at the underbust line.

The fichu, 40

The finished fichu, 40″ wide and 18″ high.

I made my triangle 40″ wide at the base and 18″ high, as suggested in the post. It worked fine. The next time, though, I would add another 4″ or so to the long edge. I cut the triangle from an 18″ x 40″ rectangle, with the long edge folded in half. The fabric I used was a sheer cotton voile “lining” a local store carries as a basic.

The two short edges are finished with 1/8″ rolled hems, using my favourite method. On the long side, I got a bit lazy and just hid the raw edge under the lace trim. For that, I ironed under 1/8″ of the fabric, stuck the bobbin lace on top of it and hand-sewed it down with a small running stitch, close to the fabric edge. Since the finished lace edge was about 1/4″ wide, it covered the raw bit no problem. Here is a close-up of the finished trim:

The edge finish.

The edge finish.

I chose to have the lace edge on the back of the fichu, but it would also look nifty on the “good” side. Now the narrow bobbin loops peeking out from under the fold look pretty cute when I wear it. It goes together well with the sheer fabric and does not look too massive. Here is a look at the fichu tucked under the shortgown I still need to blog about.

The front view.

The front view.

The back view.

The back view.

Since it was my first, tucking the  fichu took a little practice. After a playing around for a while, I found that the simplest way to keep it in place was to pin it directly to the stays. When using a simple petticoat, the straps can help to hold it in place. Normal straight pins work well; but for the last event I cheated and used three medium-size safety pins, just to be sure. ;)

I hope you had a good week and found this quick post enjoyable. As the thesis goes into its final throes, a few shorter posts may follow. But I am hoping that I will get to tell you about the shortgown from the pictures very soon. So please stay tuned! :)

Much love, Nessa

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Catching up: A linen and silk spencer

Can you believe it has been half a year already? When I decided to leave the blogging part of my life to graduate, I thought I would be back with you after a much shorter while. Now, six months later, I am still working on the master’s thesis, hoping to finish it this month at last. But I have missed you and the blog so badly that I have decided to slowly return now. Plus, I have been sewing a great deal, since it helped me to stay focused and gave me little moments of contentment when the thesis did not really co-operate in that respect. ;)

By now, the queue of projects and little things I am aching to share has become quite long. So it is about time to pick up the threads and start catching up! In this post, I will tell you about the first thing I began to make a little while after my last entry: a linen and silk spencer jacket.

I made it up based on this gorgeous extant roller print spencer from the Genesee Country Village Museum’s collection. The original is made up from a cotton print fabric, in very lovely shades of red. For mine, I used some medium blue linen. I had found just over a yard of it on the leftovers table at my favourite fabric store.

While the original is lined with unbleached muslin, mine got a lining of unbleached silk noil. Noil is a fabric made from the waste fibres combed out in the silk production. While it is usually coarse and not really nice to look at, it handles almost exactly like other silks but is much more affordable. So it worked very well as a nice, warming lining.

The pattern of the extant spencer at the GCVM.

The pattern of the extant spencer at GCVM.

Here is the pattern taken from the museum piece. It has only been the second time I worked with an extant pattern and so I was a little anxious. Though, as far as alterations go, I had to change only very little. Basically, I graded up the bottom halves of the bodice pieces to my underbust measurement, using the waistband (at the top) as a guide. Another thing I did was to extend the shoulder seams to my measurements. The rest I left as is. Especially with the sleeves, it was a little gamble. But since the original sleeve cap had lots of gathers, I got away with it. ;)

Still, it took me a good three weeks to get from the first mock-up to the finished pattern. Though the pattern mostly needed some taking in and lengthening, I was very determined to stick to the “measure twice, cut once” rule because there was not much of the lovely blue linen to waste. In the end, the only part I left unchanged was the armscye and the sleeve. They matched up very well and fit like a charm! Even on modern patterns, this hardly ever happens for me so I did a little happy dance after setting the sleeve into the final mock-up on first go. Yay!

The initial-mock up: a little short, but very roomy.

Yippee, the sleeve going in on the first try!

Yippee, the sleeve going in on the first try!

Cutting out: Not and inch of fabric to waste.

Cutting out: Not and inch of fabric to waste.

The bodice coming together.

The bodice coming together.

The basic spencer with sleeves and the lining basted to.

The spencer, with sleeves and the lining basted to.

Assembling the outer fabric and lining pieces was pretty straightforward altogether. Once the bodice had come together, I more or less flat-lined the bodice, sleeves and collar by basting and then sewing everything together. All the outer edges were left raw as I finished them up with a row of piping and self-fabric bias strips, as it was done on the original. Below you can see the lining process for the sleeves where I basted and then slip-stitched the lining’s bottom hem before sewing up the side seams.

The slip-stitched lining at the sleeve's bottom.

Slip-stitched the lining to the sleeve’s bottom…

… then sewing up the side seams of both layers in one go.

The raw edge on the linen I finished by applying cotton piping to the right side, un-corded edge to the raw edge. This was then enclosed in a 1 1/2″ wide bias cuff from self fabric. The same method I used on the collar. It is a simple round collar with single under-layer of cotton canvas, sewn to the neck edge individually. The bias strip I used for binding here was 2″ wide with about two thirds of it folded into the underside. Amazingly, this trim was enough to make it all lie flat. But then this has also worked on the original. ;)

Sewing the collar around the neck edge (sorry for the blurry photo).

Sewing the collar around the neck edge (sorry for the blurry photo).

The finished collar trim, top and bottom.

The finished collar trim, top and bottom.

Matching trims!

Matching trims!

Finally, the bottom edge was finished with the waistband. It is reinforced with a strip of canvas and has a short overlapping placket hooked shut at the center front. And this was the making process already. The last thing that was missing, was the closure. It is one of the things I like best about the spencer, since it is simple and genius at the same time. Basically it is a cleverly hidden hook-and-eye closure with the eyes sitting over the inside edge at CF and the hooks sewn to a tape underneath the overlapping side. Once you close it, it is completely hidden from view. The hooks are spaced unevenly, with smaller distances at the top and bigger ones towards the bottom. This was also done on the extant spencer and ensures a nice, secure fit.

The hidden closure.

The hidden closure.

And here is the finished piece. I wore it over my blue cotton petticoat, since it was the closest thing to hand and I was a bit excited about finally taking some pictures and entering the finished product into the Historical Sew Monthly’s “Travel” challenge. Now I am glad that I finally got to share the whole documentation with you. I hope you can forgive some of the atrocious photos. My new camera is not very well-behaved in artificial lighting but, at the time, it was the only light available… a by-product of writing by day and sewing by night. ;)

The finished linen and silk spencer... after about five weeks.

The finished linen and silk spencer… after about five weeks.

The back view, by daylight. I was so excited to be done, I completely forgot to iron the waistband. ;)

The back view, by daylight. I was so excited to be done, I completely forgot to iron it. ;)

This concludes my very first post in what has felt like ages. I have missed you all so much! Funnily, the number of the blog’s followers on Facebook has exploded during the idle months. We are not at over 300. Wow! This still leaves me baffled and in awe. I am very happy people stay so supportive and interested, even during longer times of hiatus. Still I am overjoyed to be back. Please give me a little while to catch up on all you have been up to in the past months. It feels like I have missed a great deal of wonderful things!

Much Love, Nessa

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HSM #3: Ladylike Hand Protection

For me, embroidery is one of the best pastimes during exam season. It gives you something to pick up and work on when the paper writing muse is silent or when you simply need to take a little break. That is why I decided to do a small, handy  embroidery project for this month’s “Protection” challenge: A pair of early Regency mitts.

The main inspiration came from these two extant pairs from the Met and MFA collections. The mitts from the Met are an earlier pair from the latter half of the 18th century. At this time, a triangular flap, often with a contrasting piece of fabric sewn to its underside, was a common feature of mitts. Towards the Regency period, this flap slowly disappeared in favour of a straight top, as you can see in the early-19th-century pair from the MFA below.

18th-century mitts, in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum.

Mitts, late 18th – early 19th century, MFA Boston.

Since this has been my first glove-making adventure and I was feeling a little unsure about how to design a pattern, I went to search for resources and found a wonderful tutorial for making Colonial mitts. It uses a pattern based on an extant pair from the Colonial Williamsburg collection. I used it as a base for my own pattern, enlarging it to about 120% and taking off the flap to get a straight top edge.

Next I picked a floral embroidery pattern from Ackermann’s Repository to decorate the top. It is a bud and leaf design I outlined in stem stitch. To fill out the buds, I also used stem. The leaves are filled with alternating satin or fishbone stitch.
Since the fabric I used was a light cotton sateen, I added the embroidery before cutting out the mitts, to prevent fraying in the wrong places. ;) Here is how it all looked in progress:

The embroidery in progress.

Once the embroidery was finished, I cut out the gloves and found that embroidering had been the easy part of this project. So I will give you a brief walkthrough of how I made up my pair, for future reference, in case you are planning to make your own. :)

Gathering the materials.

The first thing I did was to get together my materials. I used sateen for the outer layer and a light cotton shirting from the stash for the lining. All pieces are cut on the bias, to allow for a snug but comfortable fit. In this picture, the thumb holes are already cut out. Before I did that, though, I took an extra step:

Tracing the shape for the thumb hole.

After backstitching and overcasting the thumb pieces’ 1/4″ side seam, I placed the underside of the piece on the right side of the mitt body and traced the shape. I then subtracted 1/4″ on the inside of the trace line for the seam allowance and cut the hole based on that. There was a thumb hole given on the original pattern, but after sewing a test piece, I found that it needed some improvement. And taking the time to re-trace it really did a lot for the fit. :)

The shell and lining, with the side seams sewn and pressed open.

Next I attached the bottom edge of the thumb to the holes, right sides facing and backstitched it in place. Afterwards I just sewed up both the outer and lining pieces at the side seams, taking a 3/8″ allowance. Once all the seams had been pressed open, I slipped the lining over the outer, so that the “clean” sides faced each other and the thumb peeked out of the hole in the lining like so:

The shell and lining matched up at the side seams.

To line the mitts, I sewed the pieces together at the top edge with a backstitch, taking up a 1/4″ seam. After I folding the lining into the mitts, I finger-pressed under about 1/4″ of fabric around the thumb hole and stitched it down, encasing the raw edges on the inside. As a final step, I folded and slip-stitched the bottom hems of the mitts. To keep the lining invisible, I created a slightly deeper fold, so that it came out about 1/8″ shorter than the outer layer.

Once everything was in place, I used a single strand of embroidery floss to create a herringbone borser along the thumb hole. It came out very pretty, but also served to reinforce the fabric against wear and tear.

The finished mitts. :)

Here is what the finished pair of mitts looked like after this final step. I am quite happy with how they came out. Finishing them was a very sweet treat at the end of the exam season. :)

Now the new (and final !) term is here for me. At the moment I am still very busy juicing all the lemons uni throws at me. Although, finally, things are starting to roll again in the sewing room. There are a few new projects coming up and I am much looking forward to sharing them with you.

Thank you all for your patience in bearing with me until now. I will do my best to stop being such a stranger and bring the blog back up to speed again soon.

Much love, Nessa

HSM #2: A Market-Day Petticoat

Despite the finals still going strong, I surprised myself and finished the entry for the Historical Sew Monthly’s “Pleating & Tucks” challenge on time. It is a pleated petticoat to go with the shortgown I am planning to sew this year.

This marks the start of a whole working-class outfit which I am planning to wear at a historical market in October. It will be one of the very first costume events I am attending in Regency-era costume. And, boy, am I excited about it already! But first, here is a look at the petticoat:

The finished petticoat, front view.

The finished petticoat, rear view.

The petticoat is made of two yards of unbleached cotton broadcloth. I cut it to the finished skirt length, leaving one selvedge intact. After sewing the fabric into a tube with a single side seam, I pleated the raw edge into a  35″ wide waistband, using graduated pleats. At the center back, there are some 1/4″ pleats “stacked” on top of each other for some extra fullness. At the side seams, the pleats reach a maximum depth of 1″.

A close-up of the graduated pleats at the back.

The “tube” method I used to construct the skirt was inspired by the Hungarican Chick’s bib-front gown tutorial. It seems to work perfectly for that purpose, with an even front flap being cut into the skirt. Since there is no such flap in a petticoat, I had a little extra work getting it to hang  evenly. The little hack I used to balance it, is a 9″ long “dart” over the left hip, opposite the side seam. Here it is:

The dart balancing the skirt.

At the top of the side seam, there is a short in-seam placket, about 7″ long. It matches up with an overlapping hook-and-eye closure in the waistband. The overlap here is approximately 2 1/2″.

The inseam placket.

The overlapping waistband closure.

And there is another secret to the petticoat: The bottom edge is on the selvedge, so there is no need to hem it. At the moment, I like the look as it is, but I might fold it under when I decide to use it as an invisible petticoat under a dress or other skirt.

The bottom “hem”. I feel like such a cheater… ;)

When the skirt was all sewn up, I machine-dyed it with an artificial indigo dye. Afterwards, I sewed on the straps to keep it securely at the underbust line. They are made from 1″ wide white cotton tape which stays pretty invisible over the other underpinnings.

That is all there is to the construction process. It was easy and quite fast, in spite of mostly hand-sewing it. Now, here are the challenge details to fill you in on everything else. :)

The Challenge: #2 – Tucks & Pleating

Fabric / Materials: 2 yards of unbleached cotton broadcloth; blue dye

Pattern: None. Loosely based on Twila’s petticoat tutorial.

Year: c. 1800.

Notions: One yard of woven cotton tape; cotton thread.

How historically accurate is it? Most of it is hand-sewn, though I had no extant example to work by. Since the indigo dye was synthetic, I would say it is about 95% accurate.

Hours to complete: About 30 hours.

First worn: For the fitting, it will be worn more extensively at a historical market this autumn.

Total cost: € 6 for the fabric and notions, plus € 4 for the dye, so approximately € 10 altogether.

It was good to get the chance and post for you, but now it is back to the grindstone for another month. I am hoping to see you all again in April, with some updates on the two small projects I am trying to tackle for the “Protection” challenge. One of them is a set of two 18th-century baby caps. This is the first time I am making baby clothes and I am much looking forward to sharing this experience with you.

Until then, I wish you all the very best. See you next month!

Love, Nessa

HSM #1: A Procrastinated Chemise

Finally, I get to break the radio silence to share a new blog post with you. The final exam season at uni has picked up speed and it has been a bit of a toughie to fit in the usual amount of blogging and sewing with it. Nevertheless, the first HSM challenge of the year, “Procrastination”, has motivated me to make the new Regency chemise I have wanted for ages now.

Every time I did a fitting or took photos throughout the last year, I thought “Oh my, I could really use a new chemise!” This is what qualified this project for the challenge. And I actually did it! It is even mostly hand-sewn. For me, this is simply the best and prettiest way to work gussets and flat-felled seams, with an extra amount of control.

So here is a picture of the complete chemise. I took it when I should have been revising… ahem. The fabric I used is a basic light voile I bought in France. Even though it is cotton, it handles like a fine linen that was often used to make chemises for the upper classes in the Regency era.

A look at the finished chemise.

To finish the edges, I used two kinds of hems: 1/4″ hand-rolled hems for the sleeves and a 3/4″ double-turned hem at the bottom. This is how I usually do it, to add a little extra weight and make the chemise hang more nicely. Here is a quick close-up of both hems:

The 1/4″ rolled hem at the sleeves.

The bottom hem. You can see how the fabric almost looks like a fine linen. =)

These are all the photos I have taken so far. This leaves the challenge facts to round off the project:

The Challenge: #1 – “Procrastination”

Fabric: Two yards of light cotton voile.

Pattern: Laughing Moon #115 – Regency & Romantic Era Corset.

Year: 1800-1815.

Notions: Cotton thread; cotton bobbin drawstring.

How historically accurate is it? It is mostly hand-sewn and I did my best to stick to period techniques. So I would say it’s 90% accurate, give or take.

Hours to complete: About 30-40 hours.

First worn: Not yet, but I am much looking forward to it!

Total cost: Around € 8 (which was the cost of the fabric).

And that was all the sewing I got to finish this month. Most likely, the busy time will go on for this month and the next. After that I am hoping to get back into my usual sewing routine again and to spend more time with you on the blog. I miss you all very much!

Love, Nessa