by Cynthia Howell, First published for the July/August 2012 issue of Finery Puzzling about what to wear to the Revolutionary Picnic? Are you uninspired by the gowns in your closet? Are you looking for an interesting project to use up a few spare yards of fabric? Would you like to be fashionable and functional? Look no further than the short […]

A few months ago I made an 18th century Caraco Jacket, but it turned out looking more like something Mrs. Claus would wear than something ...

As the majority of re-enactors and costumers are aware, Duran Textiles (based in Sweden) is one of the few resources for high-quality 18th century reproduction silks and printed cottons. But what you may not know is that they periodically publish an online newsletter peppered with all sorts of fascinating and unique information, from the details of their own (period-accurate) printing processes to articles on perfume, fans, and period hairstyles to stunning photos and descriptions of reproduction garments and accessories. Occasionally, they'll even include clothing patterns from their inspirational sources. Below are a couple of our favorites: - A Swedish short gown, dated approximately 1750-1770. Note the collar piece, which is fairly uncommon. The construction details are superbly documented, from the assembly to the stitches used, making this a great resource for a period-accurate project. The original print, a block-printed cotton, has been reproduced exactly in scale and colorway as "Anemon" and is available on the website if you'd like to make an exact copy of this original short gown. The original 1750-1770 short gown, from the Duran website. - A late-18th century Swedish short gown. The cut and construction of this short gown closely resemble the one above, though its shorter skirt and slightly higher waist date it slightly later in the 18th century, or even into the early part of the 19th. The original resist-dyed block-printed cotton has been reproduced as a screen print and is available here. Additional photos of the interior of this shortgown can be found in this article. The front of the original short gown, from the Duran website. Other costume-related newsletter articles that caught our eye were this one on a recreated 1780s robe a l'anglaise in a gorgeous Duran striped silk (*sigh*), a collection of cap and bonnet patterns conjectured from period images, and this short account of 18th century stays with some great photos. Shortgowns are a quick and easy project that swiftly help you achieve a period look (when worn with the correct period undergarments and accessories, of course!). If anyone attempts a reproduction from either of the patterns above, we'd love to see your final product! Here's a recent one made by Katherine (Koshka the Cat) from the second pattern above. If you're feeling in a shortgown mood, additional shortgown patterns taken from extant garments can be found in Costume Close-up (pgs. 43-6) and Fitting and Proper (pgs. 20-2 and 23-5). If you'd like to draft your own shortgown pattern, visit Mara Riley's page, or see Beth Gilgun's instructions in Tidings from the 18th Century (pg. 48) for more information.

I first started working on this back in November, thinking that I'd finish it in time for the last HSF challenge of 2013 - Celebrate. I'd already completed every other item needed for a simple 18th century outfit, all I needed was the top. Well, life being what it is, I got preoccupied making Christmas gifts and then investing everything that I had into the 1920s Batman villains group. So, into the bottomless pit that is my WIP basket on the shelf. Four months later, I finally found the few hours that I needed to finish the trim and stomacher. So this gown is made from a single decorative shower curtain that I picked up at Goodwill for a whole $2.99. I kid you not. It may be polyester, but there's a small diamond pattern woven into the material and it's just worn enough that, from a few feet away it's kind of hard to tell. I found that using stupid cheap materials helped me get over the freak out of trying something completely different. Most of my historical sewing has been from the Victorian era onward, so the drastically different construction styles of the 1700s were a bit intimidating for me. But with this, I found I could just let go of the stress over trying to get it 'right', since hey, it's an effing shower curtain. It's already so far off of accurate that it's just not worth worrying about. Pattern listed in this Duran Textiles newsletter, which I almost certainly came across on the HSF Facebook. As you can see, I took some serious liberties with the pattern. I had to sew two panels of the shower curtain together to get a piece of fabric wide enough, but then I cut the gown in one piece, just like the pattern said. But when I tried it on I felt like I was wearing a sack. While it's not intended to be a flattering piece, I kinda felt like it needed a little something more. So I took in the side seams down to the waist, putting the rest of the skirt into an inverted box pleat. There's a box pleat in the center back, which is top-stitched down to the waist, then left open in the skirt. I also cut back the center fronts a couple of inches and had the gown close over a stomacher instead. I took advantage of all of those pre-hemmed ruffles from the shower curtain to add ruching around the neckline and sleeve cuffs. This was one of those things that sounded simple enough in my head, but ended up being awfully cumbersome in actuality. While technically straightforward, hand gathering all of that trim felt like it took forever. Seriously, 80% of the time spent on this had to be working on that trim. The gown closes over a stomacher in the center front, but the front edges tuck under the giant ruffle so that you can't see them. It kinda makes it look like it's all one piece. From the side, showing the box pleat that lets the skirt open up over the petticoats (that I'm not wearing). It dips down low enough in the back that I shouldn't have any trouble tucking a fichu around the neck. And the stomacher all on it's own. There are six zip ties at 1 inch intervals sewn between two layers of cotton canvas. then the front and back were covered with cranberry fabric. What the items is: 18th Century Short Gown The Challenge: #8 UFO Fabric: one ruffly polyester shower curtain from the Goodwill Pattern: modified from the one published in this Duran Textiles newsletter. Year: mid- to late-18th century Notions: polyester thread, zip ties. How historically accurate is it? Maybe 40% if I'm stretching it. I took some liberties with the pattern and the materials are laughable for accuracy. Hours to complete: 15+ (hand ruching only sounds simple in your head) First worn: Figments and Filaments is coming up this weekend. I'm thinking of breaking it out for that. Total cost: $3 for the shower curtain, perhaps a $1 worth of interlining for the stomacher and a half dozen zip ties. And to top it off, here are some of the extant garments that I used for inspiration: 18th c Cotton Caraco (Belgian), from the Met. Caraco Jacketc 1760 (altered 1780), LACMA. Silk Dress c 1778 (French), the Met Plaid silk caraco jacket, c. 1770 listed by Whitaker Auctions.

Historical costuming

This is the last weekend of my summer vacation. It has been a good one, and I'm not looking forward to it ending. I've enjoyed spe...

I made a new 18th century jacket this week, mainly because I wanted to have something new to wear at Isokyrö 18th century fair. I finished the piece just in time (read: stayed up until 3 a.m. on Friday night to put last stitches on it...) and it was a joy to wear. There were plenty of good reenactor photographers at the fair yesterday so I expect to get some nice pics of the whole get-up in action soonish, but meanwhile here are some I took today. The jacket is a modified version of my earlier black swallowtail jacket. I made the petticoat this week too. I might embroider the hem later. I changed the shape of the hem for this one, making it round rather than pointy The fabric is the same Ikea bed sheet I used for my flowery anglaise. I still have heaps of it left... The jacket is pinned close and it has a separate stomacher with ribbon decoration. Since I dressed up for photos of the jacket I wanted to try some different styles with it. Here's what I came up with: My Parisian chic Party version of the anglaise The anglaise doesn't have proper ribbons to pull the hem up, here it's just pinned and looks a bit strange. Don't look at the hair too closely. I just threw some pins and hair rats at it and didn't style it properly.

Ikat (also spelled ikkat), abr (also spelled ebru), warp-printed and chine (or chine a la branche) are different names for variants of the same technique: fabric woven from yarns which have been pre-dyed (using a resist method) or printed with the intended pattern, producing a characteristic soft, blurred pattern once the yarns are woven into a cloth. Strictly speaking, ikat and abr are created by pre-dying the threads with a resist dye method before weaving, and chine and warp-printing are created by printing the warp threads before weaving, though the line between the two different techniques, both in which fabrics are called which, and in how the fabrics are produced, is as blurred as those on the fabrics they describe. Ikat is the Indonesian term (from the Malay mengikat ‘to bind’), and is the most commonly heard name for the fabric in modern times. 18th century fashion enthusiasts will know the French name, chine or chine a la branche, which specifically refers to multi-coloured warp-patterned fabric, and Pompadour silk, a later English term for the …

I finally finished the shortgown I was working on over the weekend. It was a lot of handsewing compared to what I am accustomed to but I'm pleased with how it came out. It is a very simple but clever garment. The shape is very simple. It's basically a T-shape with the sleeves cut as one with (or pieced on to) the body. There is no shoulder seam and the skirts are cut with a flare or have pieced on gores to add width to the hem. eeep! sorry my toes made an appearance in the photo. It is clever in how it is fit to the body with pleating at the back. This can fit nicely to the body and leaves the shoulders and arms with a lot of room for movement, which is ideal for working impressions. Love! I made this one in striped cotton. It is unlined so all the seams had to be finished by hand, which is why it took me longer than I thought it would to finish it. It has no closures but can fasten with pins. Or, I could have added ties to it. Pins are easier though. ;) From what I understand these garments were worn as casual wear for "at home" times by ladies or as a practical alternative to the more fitted gown for ladies who had to perform physical labor. Since I ultimately compare everything to the 1860's, this strikes me as a early version of the 60's sacque and petticoat type of outfit, which were also more loosely fitted and worn for at home or working scenarios. This one is available in my etsy shop. My dressform shape isn't right for the 18th century period but here is a general idea of how it will look when worn:

Ich hatte ja schon seit fast einem Jahr noch rostbraunes Leinen im Schrank. Ich glaube beim Erwerb habe ich durchaus mit dem Gedanken an ein Jäckchen für das 18. Jahrhunder gespielt. Etwas ins Grübeln bin ich gekommen, als ich auf eine Online-Diskussion über mögliche Farben im 18. Jahrhunder gestoßen bin wo es hieß, dass es ein rötliches Braun eigentlich nicht wirklich gab. Nach anfänglicher Panik habe ich aber einige Gemälde gefunden. Ich glaube nicht dass diese Farbe so unüblich war, immerhin habe ich ja einige Beispiele auf Gemälden gefunden. Es gab damals schon die Möglichkeit diese Farbe herzustellen, warum sollte man sie also nicht nutzen. Das Jäckchen ist komplett handgenäht. Die Schnittteile sind mit Rückstich auf dem Oberstoff zusammengenäht. Die Säume sind, wie zu der Zeit üblich, mit einem speziellen Überwendlingstich genäht, der aber auf der Seite des Oberstoffe sichtbar ist. Diderot nennt diese Stich "le point à rabattre sous la main". Meine Quelle zu den Sticharten, und überhaupt das Standardwerk für die Herrstellung von Kleidung im 18. Jahrhunder, ist "Costume Close-up". Aber jetzt erstmal die Bilder vom Jäckchen aus der Dachkammer des Chaos! Caraco aus Leinen Caraco vorn Caraco Seitenansicht Caraco Rückansicht Detail Seitennaht Projekt: Jäckchen (Caraco) Projekt-Art: historisch, 18. Jahrhundert Material: rostbraunes Leinen Authentizität: Schnittmuster, Material und Technik authentisch, komplett handgenäht Projektlaufzeit: 22.07.-04.08.2016 Schnitt: 18th century jackes - J.P. Ryan View A Es lief nebenbei: Dr. Who Staffel 9 (hui, super, auch wenn ich Doctor 10 immer noch am meisten mag)

Sophia Magdalena, Queen consort of Sweden by Nicholas Lafrensen This is the year of the Swedish national gown for me, so I thought it wouldn't be amiss with a more throughout post about it than I have done before. I am leaving the men's suit out of it, but I can tell you that though the ladies weren't that keen on their gown, the suit was rather a success. The idea of a national suit was something that cropped up all around Europe in the 18th century, but it was only in Sweden that it was actualized. Gustaf III felt strongly about the subject and there are very strong indications that he designed them himself. If he didn't, he sure did have a lot of influence over the process, because the suit was certainly made to fit his preferences for clothes that weren’t too tight and with the handy cape that hid some slight deformities in his body. His interest in history and historical fashion is also evident. The women's gown consisted of three parts, a sleeveless bodice, a petticoat worn over pocket hoops and a robe. They were all trimmed with a pleated trim in the same fabric and there were also a belt and bows in a contrasting fabric. The fabric could be of various colours, but even if the fabric had a pattern, the colour should be solid, i.e. woven into the fabric like the extant gown. The robe was originally cut like a polonaise, but both pictures and the remaining extant gown are cut like an anglaise. The poufy sleeves and a standing collar were the largest deviation from the fashion of the day, but even from the start, ladies could opt for a small white collar instead. There were also numerous rules for how a gown should look, depending on the wearer’s status and when it was to be worn. The court gown The big difference between the court gowns and the common gown was the sleeves. A lady who had been presented to the king wore white gauze sleeves with a lattice work of the robes fabric over. The trail was also longer and looped up a bit differently than the common version. For everyday court business the gown was black, apart from the sleeves and the bows and belt were in a colour that indicated which court the wearer belonged to. Red for the King, although it seems that pink could be worn as well, if one looks at portraits, blue for the Queen and yellow for the Dowager queen. Another lady attached to the King's court. Gundborg Charlotta Ehrencreutz by Johan von Rosenheim, 1779-1790, Nordiska museet For grand balls the gown were originally meant to be bright red with white belt and bows, to honour the Queen's Danish heritage, but it must have been clear very early on that bright red wouldn't be the best shade to put a whole court in and there are no evidence that the red version were ever made. Instead the gala version became white with pale blue bows and belt, nicely complimenting the men's suit which was pale blue with white details. Lady in the national gown, c. 1780, Nordiska museet There are no paintings of the gala version as it is described; this portrait of Queen Sophia Magdalena seems to be the closest. The lattice sleeves are decorated with gold and so it the robe, which seems to be in a patterned fabric and is not trimmed with pleated fabric. The bodice is blue, and not white. Sophia Magdalena, Queen consort of Sweden by Pehr Krafft, 1782, Nordiska museet There was also a third version meant for the countryside, known as the Eksolsund's gown. It was in a pale yellow with blue details and for young ladies it deviated from the standard cut as it was supposed to be made like a riding habit. Older ladies wore the ordinary bodice/petticoat/robe combo. There are stories on the problems the court had when they were residing at Drottningholm castle as the castle itself demanded the back version, but if they were to go to the Chinese pavilion in the park, the Ekoldsund's version were to be worn. The king advertised the clothes of the day by putting a card on the door to his room, but he often changed his mind several times, so the court had to keep a vigilant eye on the door so to not show up in the wrong clothes. I have never seen a portrait of a lady wearing the Ekolsund’s gown, but here is Gustaf III’s son, Gustaf IV Adolf with his wife Fredrika in the early 19th century in the male version, just to give you a sense of the colours. Source The common gown With sold sleeves and a shorter train, it was very easy to spot the common gown. In theory it could be made in any colour, as the male suit seems to have, but there are only records of black, blue and grey ones. The one remaining gown is just in the common version and was made as a wedding gown for Sofia Lovisa Brüch in 1780. The bows and belt are reconstructions. Nordiska museet Front view of the common gown by Jacob Gillberg, 1778 Back view of the national gown by Jacob Gillgren, 1778, Nordiska museet Lady in the common gown with striped bows. Unknown lady by an unknown painter, c. 1780, Nordiska museet A common gown in self-striped grey fabric and pale pink stroped bows. Unknown lady by an unknown painter, c. 1780, Nordiska museet A china figurins of a lady in the common gown, Marieberg, 1779-1782 There were also gowns that, even if they weren't strictly cut after the national gown, still took their inspiration from it, like this charming one it patterned white/yellow silk/cotton. Gown, petticoat and stomacher, 1780-1790, Nordiska museet Or this black one. The bodice in those gowns are discarded and the pouffy sleeves changed for more fashionale slim ones. Gown and petticoat in black taffeta, late 18th century, Göteborgs stadsmuseum Perh Hilleström paintied several paintings with peole dressed in the national suit and gowns. On the first you can see a seated lady belonging to the King's court and a lady in a grey common version. The lady arriving is also wearing a black national gown, though you can't tell if it is the court or common version.  Card Party in the Home of Elis Schröderheim by Pehr Hilleström, c. 1779, Nationalmuseum http://historyofsweden.diary.ru/?tag%3D3245

Once upon a time I heard that there were no plaid, or checkered clothes in the 18th century. Clearly that was not the case, as there actually are extant ones. Not to mention paintings. Robe à la Française, 1760's Robe a la Francaise, ca 1765 Robe à la Française, 1770-1790 Not exactly plaid, but the pattern makes for a checkered look at a distance. Robe à l'Anglaise, 1784-87 Silk caraco jacket, 1770's I love this fashion plate and I live in hope that someone will make it one day. Journal des Dames et des Modes, 1797 François-Hubert Drouais, 1757 Princess Frederika Sophia Wilhelmina of Orange, nee Prussia by Johann Georg Ziesenis, 1768-1769 Her apron is clearly plaid, but is her caraco jacket? I think it looks spotted, but some say plaid. Plucking the Turkey by Henry Walton, 1776 Young Moravian Girl. Johann Valentin Haidt Oyster vendor after Mercier. Mezzotint Portrait of a woman, unknown artist Tartan were around in the 18th century, and evidently not only used for kilts. An article on 17th and 18th century Scottish costume can be found here. Portrait of a Jacobite Lady by Cosmo Alexander, 1745-1750's Flora McDonal by Allan Ramsey, Sir Robert Dalrymple of Castleton, ca 1720 John Campbell by William Mosman, 1749 Dr. Sir Stuart Threipland, of Fingask James and Alexander McDonald by William Blake Prince Charles James Stuart by William Mosman, 1750 Woollen, twill-weave hard tartan man's coat, Scottish, 1740–50 Click on link for a larger picture. Waistcoat, 1775-80

In preparation for the upcoming High Tea charity fundraiser for Ronald McDonald House I’m trimming my Indienne chintz pet-en-l’aire. I’ve dyed pretty new rayon and cotton ribbons (the closest I could get to silk) to replace the nasty synthetic ones on the front, and am figuring out how to do the ruffled trim. Earlier mid-18th century pet-en-l’aires, like this yellow example, have pinked ruffle trim: But later 18th century examples, the era I am aiming for, have flatter trim that is finished or turned on the edges: I’m trying to figure out exactly how the ruffles are made. I have 3.5 options to make the ruffles shown in the examples above: Option 1: The ruffles are cut in strips more than 2x the width of the ruffles, the sides are folded back and overlapped in the middle, and then the ruffles are sewn down, with the raw edges hidden on the middle underside of the ruffles. Option 2: The ruffles are cut in strips the width of the ruffles, plus turning allowance, and then the …

A Chemise, or Shift, Under All Layers Layers, layers, layers. . .That’s what it takes to interpret the clothing of the working class. . .While I am not a stickler to 100% authenticity, there are certain guidelines that should be addressed if a person wishes to display a visual language to the 18th century onlookers. . .It is a facet of interpreting any century that will be much appreciated by those who want to see history come alive. For years I visited Colonial Williamsburg, knowing that what I saw there. . .be it clothing. . .wares. . .or buildings. . .I could depend on the fact that it was as authentic as possible in our era of time. . . Then a dream came true and I found myself employed there. My greatest joy was being able to dress in authentic reproductions of 18th century English colony clothing. I appreciated even more the hard work that the Costume Design Center went to in order to provide period clothing that was as accurate as possible and still be worn each day by the interpreters. Their standards of appearance were well set. Many did not like having to measure up to those standards each day, but I knew that when I was a visitor, it made all the difference. “Visitors to Colonial Williamsburg receive a lasting and important visual image of life in Colonial America from the clothing worn by our employees. Costumes represent period clothing. When worn correctly, the costume is an important interpretive tool helping to convey an accurate picture of the eighteenth century. Therefore, employees must pay particular attention to the regulations concerning the proper way to appear in costume before the public.” Standards of Appearance, Costume Design Center While I worked in the Mary Dickinson shop (based on that of a milliner’s establishment) I learned a few of the ways that research was done on the period clothing. Art of the 18th century played a huge part in their decisions. What better way than studying the paintings and prints of the 18th century to base a costume on? It’s true that they didn’t get it totally right in the beginning, when there wasn’t enough time to do extensive research, but throughout the years, better choices have been made. The research is on-going to this day. As more is learned, changes are made. So when I decided to study and make period clothing that might have been worn in New France, I began looking at French art and sketches of the people who worked and lived here. There isn’t a lot to go on, so it has taken much time with only a little insight. I have found some striking lap-overs between the French and English dress, but there seems to be a few distinctions, too. The English working class stuck closer to subdued colors, often weaving and dying their own cloth. While the higher class of the British colonies did wear fine silks that were bright and exciting, the common woman rarely had this choice. On the other hand, the French loved color in bright prints and stripes in every class, often combining different prints together. The ladies of New France were not allowed to weave their own cloth. It had to come from the King’s storehouses, thus offering a better fabric from many parts of the world to the working woman. Blues, yellow or golds, reds seem to be popular and suitable for short gowns, jackets and petticoats. Older women wore more subdued colors but the prints available for them were in the same style. Stripes, in a ticking type of weave, were also popular paired with the prints. Petticoats (skirts) were shorter than the English and shoes were often Indian moccasins instead of stiff leather shoes. Aprons might be of white muslin but more often than not, they were of checks or stripes in various colors. Under it all, the chemise (shift as the English call it) was worn. The French corset was the same as the English stays, just a different word. A cap might be worn on her head, but often a blue (most popular) scarf was tied over the hair bandana style. I have noticed that in some sketches, when a cap is worn, a ribbon of blue (most popular) might be tied around it. Nothing that I have found about their clothing is the least bit somber. I’ve included a few of the sketches that I found for a visual view of the French clothing probably suitable as period clothing of those living west of the Mississippi River in the 18th century. The people of New France enjoyed Life and they let their clothing speak of their happy-go-lucky attitude with their clothing. . .just as interpreters of the time period will hopefully do in this present day. source unknown/pinterest

Silk Jacket (Spencer) late 18th century,Europe metropolitan museum

A woman's pet-en-l'air, 1760s, English of ivory silk, figured, brocaded, embroidered, painted. Inspiration for Beatrix Potter's book, The Tailor of Gloucester.

In preparation for the upcoming High Tea charity fundraiser for Ronald McDonald House I’m trimming my Indienne chintz pet-en-l’aire. I’ve dyed pretty new rayon and cotton ribbons (the closest I could get to silk) to replace the nasty synthetic ones on the front, and am figuring out how to do the ruffled trim. Earlier mid-18th century pet-en-l’aires, like this yellow example, have pinked ruffle trim: But later 18th century examples, the era I am aiming for, have flatter trim that is finished or turned on the edges: I’m trying to figure out exactly how the ruffles are made. I have 3.5 options to make the ruffles shown in the examples above: Option 1: The ruffles are cut in strips more than 2x the width of the ruffles, the sides are folded back and overlapped in the middle, and then the ruffles are sewn down, with the raw edges hidden on the middle underside of the ruffles. Option 2: The ruffles are cut in strips the width of the ruffles, plus turning allowance, and then the …

Patterns used: – Patterns of Fashion 1: 1660-1860 (page 26 , view A’s jacket with view C’s sleeves and cuffs), by Janet Arnold. – Helpful tips from the Rockin’ …

Throughout our posts on general topics will be intermittently interwoven two featured sets of more focused postings. In addition to our "Notes on..." feature exploring books, films, and other relevant media of interest (to be introduced soon!), we will also integrate a series of posts under the title of "Threaded Bliss" specifically detailing our efforts at the reproduction of period garments, along with other costuming adventures. This series, too, will be tagged in the menu at right and within the individual post labels to enable easy identification and navigation of postings within this group. Reproducing the Costume Close-up Jacket This was one of the easiest reproduction pieces I’ve done thus far, mostly because I only had to make the most minor of adjustments to the original pattern to make it fit Ashley (she swears she was born in the wrong century!). It went together beautifully, the only hitch being that you have to remember with the lapped seams to leave the seam allowances at the neckline and the bottom free so that the edges can be turned in smoothly. I’m so pleased with the end result; after all, one really can’t help being charmed by the cut of the back with those flouncey little “swallow tails”! The sleeves curve to cup over the elbows, which, along with the short skirt, dates the jacket to 1775-1785. The original jacket, as displayed in Eighteenth-Century Clothing at Williamsburg, left, with my reproduction on the right. The pattern: Costume Close-up, by Linda Baumgarten, with John Watson and Florine Carr, pp. 39-42. The original is in the collection of Colonial Williamsburg’s DeWitt Wallace Museum (acc. no. 1962-259). Construction details: The jacket is entirely hand-sewn. Costume Close-up gives superb details about the construction methods used in each of its garments, and it is immensely rewarding when using this book to know that your final product can be a very close copy of the original in almost every way, from the cut of the pattern, to the order in which the pieces are assembled, to the stitches used for each part. My jacket, like the original, is assembled using lapped seams. The edges are then turned in and finished with a stitch called “le point a rabattre sous la main,” which Baumgarten describes step-by-step in the introduction to the book. The back of my reproduction jacket. The back of the shoulder strap, showing the lapped seams and the sleeve set in from the outside. The bound front slit in detail. This slit was used to help give the jacket a more tailored shape when pulled tight around the stays. A detail of the sleeve, showing the turned under lining finished with la point a rabattre sous la main. Unlike the original, though, I elected not to place lacing holes along the front edges. I thought it might spoil the simple yet elegant lines (and I wasn’t in the mood to hand-sew that many eyelets!). The stomacher is thus secured in the other period-appropriate way, with straight pins. Though a stomacher is missing from the original garment, Baumgarten believes, based on the size, shape, and fit of the jacket, that one most likely did exist, or that the gap left in the jacket's laced front would have been filled by a handkerchief. My stomacher pattern is a simple one, based on the shape of other extant stomachers worn with both jackets and gowns. The fabric: What a lucky Ebay find! This is a long discontinued Williamsburg reproduction of an original textile from their collection, supposedly used in Wetherburn’s Tavern in the 1770s or 1780s. The colorway is quite close to that of the original jacket, which uses madder red and a penciled blue in a block-printed floral pattern. The repro is a cotton-linen blend; the original is presumably 100% cotton. Both jackets are fully lined in linen, though I decided not to line the tails of mine separately. The original in a study drawer at the DeWitt Wallace, with my reproduction beneath. Forgive the wrinkles in the lining; I hadn't ironed it before this picture was taken! Finishing the look: The swallow tails of the jacket, and the period to which the jacket dates, demand that this garment be worn supported by a bum roll underneath in order to ensure it falls properly over the hips and back. The jacket is thus worn over a shift with narrow, close-fitted sleeves, fully-boned stays, a bum roll, and a cream linen petticoat. A madder red linen outer petticoat and a shallow-crown straw hat embellished with box-pleated red silk satin ribbon complete the look, which is accessorized by a linen handkerchief and a double-strand necklace of red coral beads tied with a brown silk ribbon.

I've always loved short sacks, aka French jackets. I find garments with watteau pleats to be a joy to wear. There's just something about the "flying back" (a quote from the mid 18th century), particularly in silk, to be a sensory delight. I'm particularly fond of the later short sacks from the mid 1770s and later. They are shorter and don't have sleeve ruffles, often opting for sabot cuffs or rows of ruched trim. Here are a couple of extant examples of this style, both from that period: 1778 French fashion plate You can find more of my research on short sacks here. The short sacks seem to follow the same construction as the earlier sack back gowns--no waist seam with stacked inverted box pleats at the side. You can see this in the second photo above. This is the same construction as the JP Ryan pattern which I used for this gown. JPR patterns do not use period construction as they are entirely machine sewn. They also don't follow an 18th century construction sequence. I attempted to make that gown using 18th century hand sewing techniques. The one thing that was a pain to me was the construction of the lining with that pattern. There is an adjustable back with ties in the lining which seems totally unnecessary to me. I've seen some extants that have a similar lining, some other that have lining that laces in the back to make it adjustable and some with just a plain lining with a plain back, It seems to me that pregnancy would be the main reason to want to let the lining out to increase the fit. I measured the width of my lining in my gown with the ties adjusted to fit and just cut a solid back. I also eliminated the front under stomacher structure which I also didn't care for, choosing to line the bodice as I would an English gown. I also cut the jacket 4 inches shorter than the pattern. I had 7.5 yards of a striped taffeta from the $7 yard silk bin at G-Street. It's rare to find any taffeta in that bin--usually it's full of China silk, georgette, or dupioni. It just screamed to be made into some type of sack back garment. I tried to be very conservative with cutting. The stripes are very symmetrical and it was easy enough to cut the fronts and sleeves to match. The back required a little more planning in order to get the wide stripe to land in the middle of the top pleat. Once the back pleats were pinned, I basted them in place to make sure they didn't migrate when stitching. The next part of the plan was choosing how to deal with the sleeves. I wanted a sabot sleeve--which has a shaped cuff that goes over the elbow with ruching or pleated trim. The L&S Fashionable Gown pattern has these sleeves so I used the cuff pattern and adjusted it a bit to fit my sleeve. I cut the trim a bit wider--about 2 inches finished after pinking with scalloping shears. I also made sure to apply fray block on the wrong side of all my trim for this project. I wasn't sure if pleated trim would work with the stripes but I chose to use it anyway. I like the way the cuffs turned out. I pinned the cuffs on to make sure they were positioned in the right place as they had to fit correctly over the elbow. Then they were stitched in place. Next up: Trim. I cut more crosswise strips for trim, cutting them wider than the cuff trim. Finished width is about 2.5 inches. I pleated two at the same time so they would be symmetrical and match--one for each side of the front. The pleats were just pinned in place. I needed to cut a tiny strip to fill in a gap in the back of the neck. I made the stomacher and cut more trim the same width as the jacket trim. All the trim was pinned on the jacket and the stomacher. The trim was stitched in place, stitching only to the folded robing on the jacket front. Once the trim was on, I tried the jacket on to check the placement for the lacing strips which I constructed like those in this post. Once the lacing strips were in, I made a 4-loop breast knot out of some coordinating green silk taffeta. The jacket is now complete! Next up--petticoat! This outfit is being worn over a late 1770s bum pad which also has some side padding instead of pocket hoops which are more commonly worn with ball gowns or earlier sacks. I cut the petticoat panels--2 panels the full width of the 56 inch wide fabric. I wish the wide green stripe (the one on the back pleats of the jacket was centered, but it wasn't and the fabric isn't wide enough to try to center it for this project. Some creative seaming might have done the trick for a petticoat to be worn under a gown but not for a jacket. I stitched the side seams and pinned then basted the pleats. Here is the petticoat with the jacket. It still needs to be leveled at this point and is just pinned at the sides. Once the petticoat is leveled and hemmed, I will cut wide trim strips, pink them and fray check them. I leveled the petticoat to be worn over a late 70s/ early 80s bum pad. For the petticoat trim, I cut 4 crosswise strips of matching fabric 8.5 inches wide, pinked/scalloped the edges and used a tiny artist brush to coat fray block on the wrong sides of the scallops. There's no way to really pleat this fabric with even pleats to show off the stripes. I basically pleated it similarly to the narrow trim on the jacket. My original plan was to tack the pleats about an inch from the top and an inch from the bottom (they extend past the petticoat hem about an inch). I would have to press the pleats flat to do that which I didn't want to do. I thought I might just tack them at the top for a ruffle but decided to go with my original plan, also tacking them in the center as well. I like the added texture of letting the pleats poof out. I ended up using 3.5 of my trim strips. Here's the finished outfit. It still needs to be steamed and it needs some under petticoats. I've very happy with the way this turned out. I did make a floofy bonnet to wear with it: I may make some light sage green mitts using the embroidery pattern from the 1772 Ladys Magazine. I'm pleased with the way this turned out and I need to get a proper photoshoot. I'll edit to add those photos. It's just been too cold lately. I hope to make a summer short sack based on the French fashion plate above using a documented print with sheer trim to wear in July. Here are some pics from Montpelier Mansion in Laurel, MD.

I made a new 18th century jacket this week, mainly because I wanted to have something new to wear at Isokyrö 18th century fair. I finished the piece just in time (read: stayed up until 3 a.m. on Friday night to put last stitches on it...) and it was a joy to wear. There were plenty of good reenactor photographers at the fair yesterday so I expect to get some nice pics of the whole get-up in action soonish, but meanwhile here are some I took today. The jacket is a modified version of my earlier black swallowtail jacket. I made the petticoat this week too. I might embroider the hem later. I changed the shape of the hem for this one, making it round rather than pointy The fabric is the same Ikea bed sheet I used for my flowery anglaise. I still have heaps of it left... The jacket is pinned close and it has a separate stomacher with ribbon decoration. Since I dressed up for photos of the jacket I wanted to try some different styles with it. Here's what I came up with: My Parisian chic Party version of the anglaise The anglaise doesn't have proper ribbons to pull the hem up, here it's just pinned and looks a bit strange. Don't look at the hair too closely. I just threw some pins and hair rats at it and didn't style it properly.

Still no sewing here, except for this folk dress, a feresi it's called, and some ribbon weaving. So, a good time to list the pieces I mean to make when I get my act together again. First, the pelisse. Or more like, THE PELISSE. It's gorgeous. It needs to be made. It's so ultra-stylish and perfect that I'm a little scared to try my hand in making a replica of it. I saw it in September at the Museum of London and instantly thought "I need to make this for Jane Austen Festival next year". Obviously, the museum has better pictures on its web pages (here) but here are some of mine as well. I can't decide which colour my pelisse should be. The original is fairly light bluey-grey and it looks very nice but I don't think it's really me. The trimming is lovely. I can't make out what fastenings this thing uses. Then there's this spencer, from a museum in Stockholm. It's actually the jacket of a riding habit which I spotted in a book about Regency women, fashion etc. (Persson, Helen: Empirens Döttrar - Kultur och mode under tidigt 1800-tal). I just want the spencer because the braidwork and embroidery are to die for. I should also make new stays, both 18th century and Regency. I don't really like staymaking, so I'm putting it off, only I can't really make new gowns before I have the stays, so it's a vicious circle. I did finish that black swallow tail jacket, though, and I'm very pleased with it. Here are some pics of it: The stomacher is pinned on the stays. I filled out the bum roll :) The black ribbons are apron strings. I'm standing on a stool to get a full lenght photo. Black clothes don't photograph well without good lighting. This ensemble has somehow very Dutch or French feel to it (at least to me). Lastly, some close-ups of the red frilly spencer. The front is pinned togehter, and the top is adjusted with the ribbons.