Learn how a lady's 18th-century pocket would have been decorated and get inspiration for our design competition celebrating the release of 'The Pocket'.
Gail Marsh, a costume and textiles curator and senior lecturer […]
18th century French style authentically looking stomacher, historical free style recreation of late Baroque, early Rococo circa 1735. Ladies size Petite Small. Dimensions: 11” length x 8.25” width (excluding tabs) This is an opulent floral hand embroidery with cotton, silky satin, and metallic threads. The price reflects not only the immaculate detail but also the countless hours of embroidery I spent on this piece of historical costume. Please zoom in on the pictures to see all the beautiful satin stitch and French knots throughout. The stomacher is very vibrant and happy, in peach, coral, shades of pinks, and metallic copper and warm aged silver color palette with splashes of blue, green, and yellow to add life and joy to the costume. Embroidered on upcycled oriental floral cotton print. Two exaggerated princess style lines have a piped boning inserted, and the stiffness is further reinforced with horsehair interlining. The stomacher consists of four layers: front embroidery, cotton canvas lining, and two pieces of interlining. The layers were machine stitched together to secure the cotton twill tabs, and satin ribbon edging was hand stitched in place for an authentic hand sewn look. Early 18th century stomachers were pinned on to the stays, or alternatively laced through the tabs of the stomacher and the tabs of the inside of the bodice. Perfect for theater, film, historical reenactment, historical fairs and services or as photography costume prop. Thank you for shopping Lux Vivens.
Style comes back around on itself in a circular motion, right? So it's about time these five examples of 18th century elegance be incorporated into our modern world, from hand fans to Caraco coats.
Welcome back readers! Today we are switching things up a bit, and taking ourselves back in time to discuss a fashion topic that I think all women feel very passionately about - POCKETS! I know that I am not the only one who has been very frustrated when I’m trying on new piece of clothing, only to
Fashion tends to repeat itself ... a lot. In fact sometimes it's seems that is all it does is 'borrow' from another decade, another era. But let's take a gander at some very interesting styles that today's designers haven't yet sent down the catwalk.... 1. Embroidered Knee Highs Knee highs were lik
Introducing a 100% lightweight cotton blouse inspired by the iconic milkmaid style that is sweeping the internet and throwing us right back to folklore in the 18th century. With enchanting leafy embroidery on each ¾ length sleeve, ruching on the waistband and wrists, and a pretty bow with a wooden bead on each end. Pair with jeans for a casual look or a flowing white skirt such as the Dreamy Daisy Tiered Skirt to match. Complete the look with a boater hat and some ankle boots!
For the Embroidery Illiterate such as Myself… As I have confessed multiple times, sewing and embroidery are not my strong points (You can see one of my better attempts here). However, I am st…
I have just over a month to make an 18th century ensemble for myself. There's a Rococo picnic I want to attend happening at the end of April. At this moment, I have nothing quite acceptable to wear. My 18th century wardrobe currently consists of a shift, an under petticoat, a pair of shoes, and a white linen cap (not yet blogged). A few more layers are required for me to be a properly dressed Rococo lady. The stays I've been procrastinating on for well over a year? Yeah, those have got to happen. Now. And the gowns I've been dreaming of? It's time to make one reality. For the stays I've decided to use Simplicity 8579 - one of the 18th century patterns Simplicity produced as a collaboration with American Duchess. I'll be altering it somewhat to lace up in the front as well as the back, since back-lacing only stays sound difficult to put on one's self without assistance. Stays with lacing up both the front and the back are a historically accurate option and would seem to be more user-friendly. Picking the pattern was easy. Deciding to make the stays both front and back lacing was also easy. My procrastination has had nothing to do with either of these things, and everything to do with the next step of the project, possibly the most important part of the whole stay and corset making process - making the mock-up. I do not enjoy making mock-ups whatsoever. Now, I do know their value, and I've never regretted making a mock-up (and have regretted not making a mock-up), but I just generally don't like making them. Thus, I've avoided making my mock-up stays, and thus my actual stays as long as possible. Due to my immediate need of an 18th century outfit, my time of mock-up avoidance was forced to an end last week. I made my mock-up. Out of cardboard. 18th century stays are often fully boned, thus more rigid than a Victorian corset. Making a fully boned mock-up sounded tortuous. (This is part of the reason I've avoided making a stays for so long.) However, a few months ago, I learned in one of the 18th century sewing groups I'm a part of on Facebook, that non-corrugated cardboard (like the stuff cereal boxes are made from) works well for making stay mock-ups. The stiffness apparently nicely simulates the structure of fully-boned stays. This concept made the stay mocking-up process seem a lot more approachable. I just so happened to have two large sheets of this type of cardboard on hand. So last week I traced my pattern onto the cardboard, cut it out, taped it together, punched holes in the edges for lacing, and tried the cardboard stays on. They actually looked like stays! And they fit pretty darned decent! And took way less time to make than a fabric mock-up would have! There were only a couple small fit changes I needed to make. First I lowered the armscyes slightly so they wouldn't dig into my armpits. Then I took a bit of width off the top of the center front edge for better bust support. I laced myself back into the cardboard stays, and. . . They fit!! So now that the pesky mock-up stage is out of the way, I can cut out my actual stays, sew them up, then make this dress: A sacque-back gown, which will be machine sewn, in a rather inaccurate fabric. But, I'll tell you all about that later. Right now I'd better get to sewing all the boning channels on my stays!
This past year I’ve followed the fenomen of “Outlander” with interest. I’ve watched the series, read the analysis and discussions about the costumes, and smiled at the world…
I made these for a friend as a Christmas gift, but I thought I’d photograph the process and make a tutorial. Firstly, my references: there are many extant 18th century garters, some of which …
This project clearly fits into the "all dressed up and no place to go" column. I've always admired these elegant posing robes you see in a lot of 18th century portraits. I'd been saving a bunch of these images and had purchased supplies to make such a garment several years ago. As the saying goes--no time like the present. Now I realize that a plain wrapper would be more practical but I'm in the mood for glamour and silliness. I found some ads for silk wrappers in 1765 and 1778: Somehow, I imagine these wrappers to be more utilitarian in their style--an upper sort robe for around the house. Let's look at some images. First from John Singleton Copley: Mrs. Benjamin Hallowell Mrs. Jerathmael Bowers Now we have a bunch of MidAtlantic ladies as painted by Charles Wilson Peale--many of whom are Marylanders. It's hard to know for sure if these are simply posing garments or fantasy garments but they are intriguing nonetheless. They are clearly garments that one wouldn't wear out. The ladies have an informal look, many of them with their hair down and many not wearing jewelry and other ornaments you would expect to see with silk. Some seem to have the Turkish influence that was popular in that time--with turban styled wraps and the like. My friend Ruth and I had talked about making one of these for years and she finally did it to wear in the audience of the Theater Quarantino--a group of like minded friends giving a performance of Cato over Zoom. Ruth decked her little corner out and dressed up for the occasion! Doesn't she look beautiful? Her robe is made as a t-shaped garment with 56 inch wide taffeta. The sleeves are pleated at the cuff. This was more or less my plan until I realized that my silk was 45 inches wide. It also has a gold border that I would like on the sleeve edge and around the front opening. Here's the basic shape I had to work with: Here are my fabrics: the red for the wrapper, the figured gold taffeta for a petticoat, the organza for a turban and other ornaments and the plain gold for a sash. I thought I would make this shape and not use the facing piece. I would place the gold trim on the cuff edge and around the center front. If I have enough gold trim to be able to place it at the hem, I'll do that as well. I figured I'd need to take some measurements. First I measured the length from my shoulder to the floor which is 54 inches. That means the entire pattern will be 108 inches long since there are no shoulder seams. I used my measuring tape to measure from one wrist to the other which was also 54 inches. Sadly my silk is too narrow for that so the sleeves will need to be pieced. The object is to pleat them to make them shorter for my shift sleeve ruffles to show. I also looked at my B&T bedgown pattern which is a similar shape to see what the bust measurement was in my size. The width across the bust was 24 inches on the front and the back. I figured that would work for me. I adapted those measurements to the drawing above and drew a pattern on gridded pattern tracing cloth which is also 45 inches wide. I determined that I will need to piece the outer skirt corners due to the width of my fabric. I also measured the width (diameter) of my neck to determine how wide to do the front opening. Here's the pattern I ended up with--folded at the center front/back and the shoulder: I pinned the side seams and pinned pleats in one sleeve to check the length. The sleeves are shorter than I wanted, as I suspected they would be. The body fits the way I want which is good The sleeve will be too short. Each sleeve needs about 5 inches added to the length. So the plan is: Cut out, stitch the side seams, leaving open at the end of the sleeve in case I need to cut off the gold trim and add an extension Cut gold trim from excess fabric and use to face the front edge on the outside. If enough trim remains, face hem on the outside. Make petticoat Make sash I cut out the robe and had to piece the skirt extensions due to the 45 inch fabric and the gold border. which made my fabric narrower. The gold border was not used as part of the skirt. The skirt extensions were stitched on using a flat felled seam then the side seams were stitched--also using a flat felled seam. I tried it on to check the fit and it's as I expected. Checked the sleeve length. My original plan was to cut the gold trim off, add a sleeve extension, then stitch the gold back on. The sleeve needs to be longer to pleat it. I ended up deciding on a different plan. I've decided to turn under the excess red on the sleeve edge and use a sheer textile as an extension as in this detail from one of the images above. In this image, the sleeve appears to be a sheer fabric with gold embroidery. I have a variety of sheer fabrics and will decide on this later. To finish the front edge, I turned the edge to the outside 1/2 inch. I cut the gold trim off the rest of my fabric, turned under the cut edge and the wide selvedge edge and pressed. I left a tiny red edge which was placed along the opening where the edges were pinned together. I had two long pieces of trim so I started each side at the center back. I took 3 darts in the trim to make it fit the curve of the neckline. After pinning one side, I matched the motif on the gold trim at the center back and pinned the other side of trim on. Here is the front with the trim pinned in place. Here is the back. The darts/pleats will be stitched flat. I used a tiny running stitch to secure the front edge of the robe with the edge of the trim. Then I secured the other edge of the trim with an appliqué stitch. Here it is with the sleeve hems pressed up. It needs to be hemmed and have the pleated sheer sleeve extension added. For the sleeve extension, I cut silk organza 7 inches wide and the dimension of the sleeve. I seamed the short ends and made a narrow hem. It ended up not working. The organza is simply too crisp and the piece needed to be fuller in order to drape properly. I'll cut these down and make elbow ruffles out of them for another garment. Sleeve extension take 2: I went stash diving and found this linen gauze I bought several years ago. It had the kind of drape I was looking for. The sleeve measures 20 inches around. I cut a crosswise strip that was 15 inches wide. The fabric was 56 inches wide so I cut that strip in half to have 2 pieces 15 X 28 inches. I seamed the short edges then folded it in half without pressing the fold. I wanted it to be more of a tube. I turned over the raw edge and whip gathered this piece to fit the sleeve, stitching it inside the sleeve to the sleeve hem. I put the seam of the sleeve extension at the top of the sleeve since I knew it would be hidden there and I made gathering stitches through the seam around the entire tube. I pulled the gathers and tacked this above the sleeve edge on the outside. I then added a stitch on pear shaped crystal. IThe sultana is complete so I need to finish the other items that go with it! First I made a petticoat using the figured silk in the fabric pic above. Since this is a lounging outfit, the petticoat was made to be worn with no hip shaping. Then I needed a sash. I had played around with ribbon to determine how long to make the sash and found that 120 - 130 inches was ideal. My silk was 52 inches wide so I cut two crosswise strips 4 1/2 inches wide plus another strip 4 1/2 inches wide by 24 inches long. The strips were stitched together placing the short strip between the two long ones so that the seams would be against my body. Flat felled seams were used for the piecing. Then the entire piece was narrowly hemmed on all edges. I found this metallic stranded embroidery thread at Joanns which had the look I wanted. Each skein is 8 meters long so I figured I'd use 2 skeins per end of the sash for fringe. Working with 1 skein at a time, I cut the entire skein into 16 inch long pieces. I folded each piece in half and put the loop end through a doll needle --which has a large eye and sharp point. I poked the needle through the edge just above the hem and threaded the ends through the loop and pulled. I continued doing this all the way across the end using one skein for half the width. Here is the finished fringe which I did trim to event it up. I still felt it needed something else. I ended up just dividing the fringe in quarters and tying a single overhand knot. Voila! She is all finished. Now to style this outfit to wear! This outfit was worn over my earlier shift with the ruffled sleeves and my stays. I had to come up with some quick accessories to wear this for a virtual event. I needed something sheer for my neck--using the last portrait above as inspiration. I didn't have time to sew anything so I simply tore a crosswise strip of my linen gauze--about 20 inches wide (I didn't measure) and the full width of the 60 inch fabric. I also needed something for a turban type wrap and I had purchased some gold striped silk organza so I did the same with that--tore off about a 13 inch wide strip the full width of the fabric though I think I will do a wider strip next time. Since this outfit is loungewear, I kept my jewelry to a minimum and chose to only wear earrings and a ring, both by Dames a la Mode. Silk stockings and leather mules completed the accessories. My goal is to cover these mules with the black and gold silk brocade at some point. I fixed my usual "cap hair" but left some hair out in the back that I curled around some buckles. Then I lightly twisted the organza and wrapped it, using long pearl head pins to pin it to my hair. I made sure I had an end in front so I could wrap it in a little circle in front and pinned that in place. I wasn't sure what to do with the linen gauze so I just loosely draped it around my neck, concealing the raw edges and pinned it to my stays so it didn't hang down at the waist. After that, it was just petticoat, sultana (pinned at the waist at center front) and sash. The sash was wrapped around my waist twice and looped around in several places until was happy wth the way it looked. Here is the final result: I'm tickled with the way this project turned out. I'm glad I waited to make it as I had a different vision when I first bought the fabric 3 years ago. It's comfortable and will be great for online events --particularly since stays are not required. I think I may also make a more "ordinary" wrapper out of chintz sometime soon as well as I know I have some in my stash!
I've been dying to make some mitts for a while. They seem like such a practical thing to have--wool or leather for the winter and linen for the summer. I love the simplicity of the mitts of that era yet they make such an ideal canvas to show off one's embroidery prowess. Here are some examples of extant mitts: Yellow Silk Red Silk Linen Leather Fancy Embroidered Linen Fancy Embroidered Leather I started out looking at the pattern and examples in Costume Close Up. The pattern is a 1/2 inch scale so I copied it at 200% and pieced it together. I wasn't sure about doing it that way so I ended up getting the Larkin & Smith pattern which is basically the exact same style. I'm glad I did! The pattern has a bound booklet with instructions, photographs of all the construction steps along with photos of the extant pair of mitts the pattern is modeled after. It also contains in depth stitch guides. The instructions are very well written. I traced the medium sized mitt piece to make a muslin. I didn't bother making the thumb pieces for the muslin. All three sizes of mitts use the same thumb piece. I then just machine stitched a 1/4 inch seam to check the fit. I ended up shortening the pattern 1 inch. Also, these mitts are cut on the bias which gives them a little bit of stretch. I decided that I would make summer mitts from a piece of handkerchief linen leftover from a cap. I also decided to do the embroidery but to omit the wrist slit. The first thing I had to do was practice my embroidery stitches as it had been over 20 years since I last did this sort of thing. Fortunately there's a local shop called the Stitching Post that specializes in cross stitch and they had several brands of stranded silk floss. I settled on Soie d'alger 6 strand floss which they carry in over 100 colors. Since I like itty bitty needles, I bought some size 10 beading needles which are very thin with a larger eye to make threading easier. Using 1 strand of floss I practiced my herringbone and edge herringbone stitches. I cut out the mitts and pressed the hem all the way around the edges. The directions say to press under 1/4 inch then turn under the hem allowance to make a 1/8 inch hem. I had trouble doing that with the fabric being cut on the bias so I just pressed under the 1/4 inch and left the edge raw. I used matching (white) silk sewing thread and stitched a running stitch all the way around to secure the hem. I made my running stitch about 1/8 inch from the folded edge. Making the running stitches an even distance from the fold helps in making you herringbone stitches even. Then, using one strand of floss, I stitched the three lines on the glove front and did the edge herringbone stitches around the edges as indicated in the pattern instructions. Because the gloves are cut on the bias, some stretching occurred during the stitching. I steamed them to flatten them back out before proceeding. Finished stitching Inside of glove edge stitching I decided that I would do the double 1/8 inch hem on the thumb pieces as I thought they would get more wear. I pressed that hem under and then pressed under 1/4 inch on the curved edge that gets stitched to the glove body. I thought that pressing those first would make it easier. I then stitched a 1/4 inch side seam in the thumb piece. The instructions said to whip stitch the allowance but I did a felled seam that ended up being about 1/8 inch wide. I used running stitch to secure the thumb hem and the seam allowance on the curved piece. The thumb hole was the trickiest part. I slightly snipped into the seam allowance and finger pressed it under about 1/4 inch, being careful to maintain the heart shape. The thumb pieces butt to the glove piece. They do not over lap. I just whipped them together using tiny whipped stitches. The pattern is so well made that I did not have to pin. The pieces fit together perfectly. Thumbs stitched on Then the thumb seam is covered with herringbone stitches, being careful to cover the white running stitches. Finished thumbs According to the pattern, the point linings are stitched on using the edge herringbone stitch after pressing the hem allowance under. I decided not to do it quite that way as I didn't want to mess up the other side which also had herringbone. I did the edge herringbone stitches on the point lining piece, then laid it on the glove piece, wrong sides together. I used white silk thread and tiny whip stitches to stitch them together on the very edge. I secured the straight edge of the point lining to the glove with whip stitches --not the running stitches as indicated in the pattern. All that is left to do is the ladder stitch which connects the side seam. I used 4 strands of floss for this and I spaced the stitches about 3/8 inch apart, based on the spacing of the edge stitches. I think next time I will make these stitches closer together. Close up of stitching on back of hand Close up of palm Finished mitts I'm so glad I decided to undertake this project. These will be perfect sun protection from the hot July 4 sun at Mt. Vernon!
More “Bodice Mania”…. Reproduction by Reine des Centfeuilles, 1790 Kyoto Costume Institute
Bumble Button Free download & print Victorian, Edwardian & Vintage Ephemera. For crafters & artists. Journals Labels, Greeting Cards, Scrapbooking.
I had originally planned to buy some white knee high socks and wear them under my dress, but after deciding that I was going to have a good stab at make a late 18th century wardrobe I added stockings to my list. Prior to this I had never sewn with stretch fabric, and I wasn't looking forward to it. The fabric sensed my fear, and this project turned out to be one of those that fights you every step of the way. I started researching last year, looking up extant examples and reproductions. I loved the colours and embroidery on the clocks, much more interesting than a modern white sock. MFA. Pair of clocked stockings. European. c.1650-1750. MFA. Pair of Clocked Stockings. French. c.1790-1800. MFA. Pair of Clocked Stockings. European. c.1750-1800. I bought some fabric off Trademe (New Zealand's version of Ebay) that was described simply as a 'soft cotton knit fabric'. It was only NZ$5 for three metres so I took a chance and bought it. The picture on the auction showed a nice white fabric, but when I got it, it was pale blue! It was certainly knit, and certainly nice and soft, but not white. I decided to make a pair of blue stockings as practice, then bleach the remaining fabric to make one or two white pairs. I searched around for a pattern to use. I loved Before the Automobile's Late 18th Century Stockings, which were self drafted. La Couturière Parisienne's article on 18th Century Stockings had instructions to self draft a pattern, but the most thorough explanation of self drafting I found were Rebecca Manthey's instructions. Although aimed at serious New England re-enactors, there is a wealth of detail and research in her instructions, and they're easy to follow. I made up a pattern for the long gore stocking. This was before I had a real grasp on what part of the 18th century I wanted to focus on, and these stockings aren't really suited to my 1780's wardrobe, being popular up to the 1740's. I cut out the fabric and started to make a mockup of a single stocking, to check the fit. Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of this process, but you can be assured it was a painful one. I whipstitched the edges together by hand, a slow process that I wasn't very good at. I worried needlessly about the stitches preventing the stockings from stretching, and if I was using the right techniques for stretch fabric. When I finally finished my mockup, there were problems. A few measurements had gone wrong somewhere, and there wasn't enough fabric to even cover my toes! I'm not sure if this is an issue with the instructions, or my bad maths skills. You can see on the pattern above where i've drawn arrows to indicate another inch or so needs to be added to the toe area. My whipstitching was also far too loose, and didn't look nice at all when it was stretched. I practiced whipstitching with the knit on a few scraps, making sure to have tight, close stitches. Then I cut out the pieces for my proper pair of stockings. I took extra care with the slippery, stretchy fabric, and managed to get some neat pattern pieces for the blue fabric, and left enough fabric to bleach. As you can see, the long gore stockings are not good for fabric conservation and don't make for easy cutting. My original idea was to do some nice embroidery along the gores. Nothing on the same scale as the extant examples, but something small to decorate the gores with. I whipstitched the gores into place, leaving the rest of the stocking open for easier embroidering. I (somehow) got the stocking onto my embroidery hoop and started embroidering. I'm almost too embarrassed by the mess I made to show it here, but I will. We all make horrible misinformed mistakes... After documenting and unpicking my failure I left the unfinished stockings in my stash for a few weeks. I came back to them with a much simpler idea. Looking closely at Before the Automobile's stockings, I saw that she had stem stitched the edges of the gores with white embroidery to hide the seam. I decided to do that in a contrasting colour, and then add a small monogram. The stem stitches were great at adding some extra stability to the gores; you can see here how they stop the seams from rolling. The monogram was also done in stem stitch, with some simple swirls on either side. I loved the rose and yellow coloured extant example from the MFA, so I chose a pale yellow to contrast with the blue. The pink of the swirls completes the pastel look. 18th century stockings could be extremely gaudy, so mine are very tame in comparison. A stem stitched gore and a small monogram worked out much better than my original attempt, and I was starting to feel more confident working with the knit. After finishing all the embroidery, I whipstitched the back seam. I had deliberately made the toes two or three inches longer than I needed, to avoid them turning out too short. After the back seam was done I tried the stocking on, and measured where my toes came up to. I cut off the excess fabric on a diagonal, to better fit the shape of my feet. I then whipstitched them closed. I wasn't quite sure what to do with the top of the stockings. Costume in Detail by Nancy Bradford has one example with the top edge left raw, and another with a hem. In the end I decided to fold the top edge over twice, then secure it with a running stitch. These stockings were a nightmare to make. From research to completion they took me about eight months! For most of that time they sat in my cupboard after some disaster happened when I tried to work on them. I so happy they're finished now, and all the mistakes just means the next pair will be easier. I hope.
Sewing box late 18th century Visit kci.or.jp (via Pinterest)
Introducing a 100% lightweight cotton blouse inspired by the iconic milkmaid style that is sweeping the internet and throwing us right back to folklore in the 18th century. With enchanting leafy embroidery on each ¾ length sleeve, ruching on the waistband and wrists, and a pretty bow with a wooden bead on each end. Pair with jeans for a casual look or a flowing white skirt such as the Dreamy Daisy Tiered Skirt to match. Complete the look with a boater hat and some ankle boots!
Evening dress of embroidered silk zibeline, designed by Antonio Castillo for Lanvin with materials manufactured by Staron, Paris, 1957.
18th century fixed fan French
Making a pair of 18th Century stays, from concept to finished product.
Introducing a 100% lightweight cotton blouse inspired by the iconic milkmaid style that is sweeping the internet and throwing us right back to folklore in the 18th century. With enchanting leafy embroidery on each ¾ length sleeve, ruching on the waistband and wrists, and a pretty bow with a wooden bead on each end. Pair with jeans for a casual look or a flowing white skirt such as the Dreamy Daisy Tiered Skirt to match. Complete the look with a boater hat and some ankle boots!
Introducing a 100% lightweight cotton blouse inspired by the iconic milkmaid style that is sweeping the internet and throwing us right back to folklore in the 18th century. With enchanting leafy embroidery on each ¾ length sleeve, ruching on the waistband and wrists, and a pretty bow with a wooden bead on each end. Pair with jeans for a casual look or a flowing white skirt such as the Dreamy Daisy Tiered Skirt to match. Complete the look with a boater hat and some ankle boots!
Introducing a 100% lightweight cotton blouse inspired by the iconic milkmaid style that is sweeping the internet and throwing us right back to folklore in the 18th century. With enchanting leafy embroidery on each ¾ length sleeve, ruching on the waistband and wrists, and a pretty bow with a wooden bead on each end. Pair with jeans for a casual look or a flowing white skirt such as the Dreamy Daisy Tiered Skirt to match. Complete the look with a boater hat and some ankle boots!
My reproduction 18th century stockings are sewn up and finished, this time in a lovely white cotton knit with embroidered clocks! These 1780's stockings are all hand sewn and hand embroidered. Although I already have a perfectly serviceable pair of late 18th century blue stockings, I really wanted a white pair to match the rest of my white 1780's undergarments. I didn't enjoy sewing the first pair, as I found the thin knit quite slippery and hard to work with. Happily, these ones came together a lot easier. After I bleached the blue cotton knit to white, I had enough fabric left over to make two white pairs. The fabric for the second pair is cut out and sitting in my stash, but I have no real reason to make them up any time soon. A History of Late 18th Century Stockings Stockings have been worn in some form for hundreds of years, and by the 1700's they had been refined into elegant, decorative accessories for men and women. Historically stockings are cut to fit the shape of the wearer's leg instead of being knitted in a long tube like today's versions. It's this technique that creates the long seam up the back of the leg - made famous in the nylon stockings of the mid 20th century. The invention of the knitting machine in the 16th century allowed for finer knitting, with wool, cotton and silk being the main fabrics. In 1561 Queen Elizabeth I was given her first pair of silk stockings, and the craze for delicate, decorative silk hose in bright colours took off. The early 18th saw stockings in bold colours being the norm- stockings in blue, green, pink and orange were all worn. These often had embroidery and decoration on the seams of the stockings that also helped to reinforce the stitching. In the later half of the 1700's stockings became a little less colourful, and white or ivory stockings remained de rigueur for the next hundred years or so. To stay true to the late 18th century, I wanted some simple white stockings with white embroidery. The embroidery floss I used wasn't quite white, but a slightly blueish white I picked up in a clearance sale. I quite like the subtle colour it adds, especially since the stockings are minimally decorated. Embroidery On 18th Century Stockings Stockings worn by the upper and middle class were decorated with fine embroidery. The embroidery served two purposes: decoration and reinforcement. Historical stockings are cut in two pieces, with the main piece wrapping around the leg and the foot, while the bottom of the feet have a smaller, separate piece. The triangular seam joining these two pieces together is called the 'clock'. Embroidering over this helped to reinforce the stocking so the seams won't rip, and it also shows a little flash of colour and pattern at the ankle. Criss-cross or trellis patterns are seen a lot in surviving examples, as well as embroidered ribbons or flowers. Stripes at the top of the stockings also seemed to be common. 18th Century Notebook has a big list of surviving examples that show the type of decoration stockings usually had. I did plan on doing a little monogram at the top of the clock, similar to my other pair. I tried but it just wasn't working - I couldn't find the balance between simplicity for ease of stitching and a good design. I did a monogram on one stocking but unpicked it...and managed to tear a hole in the fabric while I did. I patched it up with some white thread, and I don't think it's too noticeable. I definitely won't be making heavily embroidered stockings anytime in the future. My dislike of knit fabric and the complexities of embroidery make that project a hard pass from me. How Comfortable Are 18th Century Stockings? The cotton knit was much thinner than I remembered. The thickness and texture of the fabric might have changed since I bleached it, but I doubt it. The thinness and delicacy of the fabric is much more noticeable in this white pair than my other blue pair. I feel like you can see through them a lot more. If I ever need to make another pair I'd probably look out for a thicker knit. They could be good for winter to keep me warming, and a heavier fabric might be easier to embroider the clock on too. After wearing my blue stockings for a while I noticed that the tops of them sagged quite badly and would fall down my legs. This could be a fitting issue. I didn't make a mockup for the first pair of stockings and jumped straight into making them, but the top of the stockings do fit my thighs, they just don't stay there. 18th century stockings were always worn with garters secured below the knee to keep them up, but the top would fold down over them and flap around regardless. So for this pair I cheated a little and added some elastic to the top. It keeps them up perfectly and I have the garters there for extra security, and to keep things taught and smooth over the lower legs. These stockings are very comfortable, and I improved a lot on my blue ones. You might be able to see that the toe area doesn't fit quite as well on these ones. Usually I'd try them on, see where my toes end up and cut diagonally across from my big toe to my little toe to form the toe seam. For this pair was lazy - I guessed and just cut straight across as I was sewing them. Although modern socks and stockings have a straight or slightly rounded toe seam, the amount of stretching they do means the toe area fits most people regardless. 18th century stockings are much more tailored, and rely on a precise fit to the wearers leg with not much stretch. This means they're very comfortable and fit better than modern socks, but any missteps are more pronounced without the extremely stretchy fabric to smooth everything over. Always measure and cut your toe seam properly! Although plainer then I'd have liked, I'm very happy with these stockings. They fit better than my last attempt, they're pretty, and they match the rest of my 1780's clothes and shoes much better. Although they were all hand sewn, they didn't take too long to do. If you want to make your own pair of late 18th century stockings I have a guide which details the fabric I used, the pattern I made and how I pieced them together.
image: an 18th-century French knotting shuttle with case [credit: AnticStore] "[Knotting] is so little used that a description seems almost unnecessary." --Florence Hartley, The ladies' hand book of fancy and ornamental work, 1859 By the time that Florence Hartley wrote these words, the practice of knotting--or creating a string of ornamental knots using a shuttle--had fallen so far out of use that it was only worth three sentences in a book otherwise stuffed with descriptions, patterns, and step by step diagrams of all sorts of ornamental needlework. Yet knotting was once a staple of ornamental needlework practiced by upper class women, who would spend hours creating delicate knots with their beautifully adorned shuttles. Knotting was done through the use of a knotting shuttle, which allowed the user to wind thread which could be gradually turned into long strings of decorative knots. Most women would keep drawstring bags on their wrists so that the strings could be pushed inside as they knotted. After they were finished, the knotted strings were then couched or sewn onto dresses, linen, chair backings, and other types of fabric material. Knotting shuttles for upper class women were typically made from high end materials, including porcelain, ivory, tortoiseshell, or even gold, while shuttles for lower classes were more often made of bone. The easy nature of knotting made it something women, once well-practiced, could keep themselves occupied with while barely needing to look at their hands. Knotting could be done during long coach rides, while sitting in drawing rooms and salons, while sitting in the theater, and any number of occasions. The practice was so popular with Queen Mary of England during her downtime that that Sir Charles Sedley made a ditty of it: ‘For here’s a Queen now thanks to God!/Who when she rides in coach abroad/Is always knotting threads.’ The widespread popularity of knotting in the 17th and 18th century made it a popular subject in women's portraiture of the period. I've compiled ten of the many portraits from this period showcasing women using knotting shuttles, which I've shared below. (You can find many more portraits online--a great number of hem are mislabeled as women with tatting shuttles; however, tatting did not develop until the 19th century and the shuttles featured in these 18th century portraits are all designed for knotting.) A portrait of Mme Georges Gougenot de Croissy by Jean-Baptiste Greuze, 1757 A portrait of Marie Antoinette of Austria by Jean-Etienne Liotard, 1762 A portrait of Princess Charlotte of Hesse-Philippsthal or Maria Anna Sophia of Saxony from the workshop of Georg Desmarées, circa 1764. A portrait of Maria Kunigunde of Saxony by Pietro Rotari, circa 1755 A portrait of Madame Adelaide de France by Jean-Marc Nattier, 1756. A portrait of Madame Dange by Louis Tocque, 1753. A portrait of François de Jullienne and his wife Marie Elisabeth by Charles Antoine Coypel, 1743. A portrait of Mrs. Abney by Joseph Wright, circa 1780s-90s. A portrait of Queen Charlotte and Charlotte, Princess Royal by Benjamin West, 1776. A portrait of Elizabeth de la Vallee de la Roche by Michel Pierre Hubert Descourts, 1771.
The Galaxy Cape dress, takes inspiration from the classic archive Ball Tie style, complete with an 18th-century Watteau style detachable cape which echoes the bodice drape, for added drama. The ethereal gown is available in crepe satin, which contains 73% acetate and 27% viscose, both sourced through forestry guidelines that are environmentally appropriate, socially beneficial and economically viable. This includes principles and criteria on forest management practices, respect for indigenous peoples' rights, workers' rights and local communities, environmental impacts and legal compliance. The cape material contains 100% silk obtained with organic farming practices in place. Organic fibers are natural fibers grown without the use of synthetic pesticides, insecticides, or herbicides and GMOs. Color: Ivory Sample Size: UK 14 ----- This item is made-to-order, which means it's not ready to ship immediately. Standard turnaround time is 4-6 months. Should you like to receive this garment sooner than this, rush fees may apply. Once your purchase is complete, a stylist from our team will reach out within 48 hours to collect your measurements, walk you through the process, and review the fit of the garment. At this time, we are shipping internationally for items over $1000. If you're interested in international shipping, kindly email [email protected] and we will get a shipping estimate for you. All made-to-order items are final sale.
Introducing a 100% lightweight cotton blouse inspired by the iconic milkmaid style that is sweeping the internet and throwing us right back to folklore in the 18th century. With enchanting leafy embroidery on each ¾ length sleeve, ruching on the waistband and wrists, and a pretty bow with a wooden bead on each end. Pair with jeans for a casual look or a flowing white skirt such as the Dreamy Daisy Tiered Skirt to match. Complete the look with a boater hat and some ankle boots!
This set embroidered stocking garters and pocket was inspired by the TV show "Outlander" and the thistle symbol of Scotland. This set stocking garters and of pocket are perfect for 17th-18th century outfits, for weddings, cosplay, historical reenactments in rococo style, Marie-Antoinette, Georgian era or other themed events. The pocket is ties at the waist and it has sizes 10,2" x8" (26cm x 20,5cm), the slit size is 5" (13 cm). For the finished pocket, the length of the ties is 22" (56 cm). I recommend to sending to me waist measurements at order. The size of the embroidered part of garters is 10,5" x 1,4" (10,5 cm x 3,5 cm), the size of the finished garters with ribbons is 41" (104 cm). If you need longer, please tell me about it. The pocket and garters are made of taffeta (polyester), but can be made of silk or linen. The order includes two embroidered garters and one embroidered pocket . The options of color a the same as the pictured. If you want another colors, write to me. Please be aware that the cost fluctuates due to the base cost of the fabric. The same set in black color -https://www.etsy.com/listing/1550363159/the-set-of-black-embroidered-scottish
Frock Flicks note: This is a guest post by our friend J. Leia Lima Baum, @jleialimabaum. She’s a fashion historian and archivist based out of New York City, where she got her MA in Fashion an…
