Just in time for fans of the Bridgerton series on Netflix (season two starts soon). I’ve heard some people say they watch it for the Regency fashions; others, not so much. There are literally (pun intended) thousands of romance writers, and hundreds who set their novels specifically in the Regency era. Bridgerton‘s author Julia Quinn’s … Continued

This week on Costume Analytics we will take a trip across the Pond and look at a snazzy American fashion, depicted in Ralph Earl's 1791 portrait of Mrs. William Moseley. This is a fascinating portrait because it not only depicts a Not-French and Not-English ensemble, but

London and Paris Fashions, May 1799 The sleeveless sort of spencer thingie was known, as mentioned in previous posts, by such names as the "body" and the "corset", and "sleeveless spencer". I start to see it popping up in 1796 and by the end of the decade it's pretty common in fashion plates. In looking for documentation to go along with the sample Metropolitan spencer, I'd been all over Gallery of Fashion, hoping to find information on what sorts of garments were worn beneath, in words, not just plates. I wanted to make sure that my wearing this sort of thing over a dress was done. It was discouraging to find that Gallery of Fashion, in 1796 anyhow, the date of my inspiration example, called for these items to be worn with petticoats and "sleeves". So it is for my inspiration garment, anyhow, and for other examples I reviewed. Was this saying that the sleeves were actually attached to the body, and worn with a petticoat? Usually Gallery of Fashion tells us when a plate depicts a round gown (bodice+skirt together) or a robe+petticoat. Yet was this a new combination of clever little pieces? Or just imprecise wording naming the piece parts of the ensemble without attempting to tell what was attached to what. I do not know. However, another subscription magazine, The Fashions of London and Paris, of which the Japanese Bunka Gakuen library has a copy, comes to our aid. It tends to tell us when items are dresses and when something else...expect in the cases of Parisian fashion, when often they give plates sans text. Ah well, something is better than nothing. In May of 1799, in a page describing the latest in Paris headdresses (see illustration above), here is as much of the original description as applies: Paris dresses. Fig. 1. [not included here, since it only describes the headdress] Fig. 2. Velvet toque, (cap) trimmed with lace, worked in gold. -- This is an imitation of the costume of a Venetian actress. Among the elegantes who brought it out, it is always worn with the Swiss, or half corset, of which the most common are white satin, trimmed with deep red velvet. Fig. 3. [not included here, since it only describes the headdress] Fig. 4. [not included here, since it only describes the headdress] ... General Observations Relative to the Paris Dresses...White is the prevailing color, the finest Indian muslins plain embroidered obtain the preference with those rich females denominated elegantes over all other manufactures. The Espindor, which ladies of the above-mentioned class have lately shewn such partiality for, is a kind of spencer; of a deep color, not turned back, and with short sleeves; it is crossed in before, and edged with narrow slips of lace in gold and silver". Note figures 3 and 4 are wearing little overgarments as well. From this image and description we learn that there were a variety of little garments (no surprise) and that they could have fanciful names (again no surprise). There is no image of the Espindor, but, remember the German crossed front, short-sleeved, pink spencer? Mmmm?  Plate 10. Luxus und der Moden. April 1796. Below, for August 1799, the description of figure 2, "...jacket and train of white muslin". Under General Observations, "The Jacket described in no. 2, is generally worn..." No mention of anything under the jacket. I think this one is like the 18th century jacket, worn with a petticoat. I have never been certain what distinguishes a jacket from a spencer in contemporary texts. Danske dragter: moden 1790-1840 by E. Anderson, says that a feature of the spencer was that it was cut straight off at the waist, rather than allowed to have tails like the 18th century jacket. (p. 230.) Merriam-Webster defines the spencer as a "short, waist-length jacket". However, many museums, the Metropolitan Museum of Art included, include tailed specimens under the name "spencer". I wonder if jackets were worn, as they had been in the 18th century, with nothing under them (unless as riding dress), while spencers usually had dresses under them? If anyone is sure, please let me know. London and Paris Fashions, August 1799. In December 1799 after describing quite a number of dresses and their accessories in full, they write under General Observations: Silk pelices are more prevalent than ever. Habits are much worn in the morning. Black velvet spencers or corsets; plain black velvet cloaks, and black velvet handkerchiefs, are general favorites... Then, in the January number, they illustrate a Paris fashion (dated December 1799 because it could take a bit for the fashions to cross the channel), and they write: Paris Figure (from the Costume Parisien) Pointed turban, ornamented with an aigrette, or plume, and a myrtle garland. Spencer without sleeves, of purple satin or velvet, trimmed round with silver, and clasped in front. Scarlet shawl. Silver necklace and earrings. London and Paris Fashions, December 1799 (but appearing in the January1800 number) Image Bunka Gakuen Library. So here we have a variety of interesting evidence, including the sleeveless spencer, so named, over a dress, described in print...we don't know if this is a full dress ensemble although given the fan, and the style of headdress, it's at least afternoon dress. This small set of examples is a start and probably enough for me, who am not attempting to build a persona per se, but a costume.

I have just finished my week long embroidery spree as I create a jacket and gilet for my up comming Der Schauspieldirektor photo shoot. You can read about the play in one of my previous posts, or f…

For the last Historic Rock Ford Plantation Second Sundays event my mother wore her 1790s white floral cotton gown inspired by an original in the collection of the Kyoto Costume Institute. During this transitional time in fashion history dress waistlines were rising and the points that once existed at the center front of bodices were no longer added. Dresses of this style may have been an older dress remade by shortening the bodice and removing the bodice points at the center front and back. The dress could be worn with a matching petticoat or a coordinating sheer cotton petticoat. She wore a pink silk sash tied in a bow at the back and matching pink silk shoes with the dress. A garnet necklace and earring set completed the look. Above: From Revolution in Fashion by the Kyoto Costume Institute. Above: An example of a similar dress with matching petticoat from the 1780s that could have been altered later to look like the Kyoto dress. From the V&A.

Ahhh, the 1790's. What a weird but delightful little moment in fashion. I love that modern costumers are giving this decade more attention, because there are some really lovely things to be found at the tail end of the 18th century. That's why we're happy to introduce our new 1790's stays, available for pre-order now!

British history posts by authors of British historical fiction.

Ever since looking through Kendra's Europe trip pictures back in 2007, I've been in love with a dress in a painting called The Dauphin Taken Away From His Family, painted by Hauer in 1793. The painting can be found in Musée Carnavalet, but it's very difficult to find a decent quality online picture of it. The best I've found is the very same photo taken by Kendra that made me fall in love with it in the first place. My version of the dress is made of black silk taffeta and lined with black linen. It's hand sewn with silk. The pattern and construction are both based on the gown with a front fall opening, c. 1780-90, in Patterns of Fashion. I love the pattern (nicely low cut neckline, a little rising back waistline) and the construction method is my 18th century favorite. Under the dress I'm wearing two linen petticoats and a small rump. I wanted to create the same look as in the painting, so I got a blond hedgehog style wig to go with the dress for a more glamorous look. I really like the late 1780's and very early 1790's back seam lines. ETA: a picture in the spirit of the painting. Construction: First I sewed the skirt panels together using a running stitch. I used six panels as in the dress the pattern in based of but decided to avoid a center front seam and I placed the cb and cf in the middle of a panel. Then I started the bodice. As I've done it before, I had existing pattern pieces ready. I usually just place the pattern pieces on the fabric and draw around them, but now that the fabric is black and I didn't have any chalk, I pinned the pieces and folded the seam allowances under using the paper edge as a guide. The gap was left so I could sew a line to mark the tuck placement with a bright color thread. Then, after both silk taffeta and linen layers had folded down seam allowances, it was time to put them on top of each other and sew around the edges with running stitches. I made them in a way that only a little dot shows outside and longer line on the lining side. I sewed the false seams, tucks, with a back stitch. Later I realized that I had turned one side too many on the back pieces where I need to have the seam allowance for the sleeves and straps, but that was an easy fix. Then I whip stitched all the pieces together. Then the sleeves. I sewed them up first. The bodice has separate straps. I joined the strap lining and cover on the neckline edge with the point à rabattre sous la main. Then I sewed the linen strap lining on the bodice from both ends. Then I sewed on the sleeve underside from the inside using back stitching. Then I sewed the top sleeve from the outside on the strap lining. Last step was covering the strap lining with the silk and sewing it on from the outside using back stitches. Then the bodice was almost finished. Then I turned down the top of the three back panels and whip stitched them in to the bodice. The front panels were treated the same way except I attached them in to a waist tape.

Making of the gown from Vestier's painting "Portrait of a Lady with a book", as a mix between a robe en chemise and a round gown, keeping it quite historically accurate, even if machine sewn.

Hi! I've been a lurker for a good while now, and I decided to do a Dress Diary for my next project... I've been meaning to do something like this for the last, oh I don't know, four or five years... but it seems that every time I start sewing I don't think about it until I'm a good halfway through…

Hi! I've been a lurker for a good while now, and I decided to do a Dress Diary for my next project... I've been meaning to do something like this for the last, oh I don't know, four or five years... but it seems that every time I start sewing I don't think about it until I'm a good halfway through…

Mozart’s “Der Schauspieldirektor” or “The Impresario” is a one act comedy about a theater company. Mozart only wrote four songs for the play, all of which appear towar…

I have developed quite a love for this style of gown and am contemplating giving it a try. I have made several gowns around this era but not in this exact style! I love the fit of the bodice and the way the fabric hangs down in a very firm yet graceful line. Hmmmmm.....

I've been doing a bit of research into Regency Stays, and I have to admit, I find myself in unfamiliar waters, which makes me a little nervo...

Muslin petticoats. The Gallery of Fashion. Nikolaus von Heideloff. Georgian fashion era. Neoclassical costumes in the time of Jane Austen.

My latest project is this 1790s jacket inspired by a 1790s jacket from the Imatex (Centre de Documentació i Museu tèxtil) here: you can access lots of stuff there, if you want to look at the 1790s jacket, go to advanced search, then search for Register number 11551, then go to "full record" and voilà you can see pictures and read a despription in Catalan. I don't really understand catalan, but I think it's a children's jacket (they say) and the pictures do explain the rest. I call it the "Imatex jacket" (for obvious reasons). What threw me a bit was, that I couldn't find many fashion plates depicting similar jackets. The ones that could be called similar were from fashion plates in the 1780s, but I suppose that doesn't mean much. The following 3 pictures show the original jacket from the IMATEX collection. original Imatex 1790s jacket original Imatex 1790s jacket original Imatex 1790s jacket. This is the view of my pattern: I've used the JPR Anglaise pattern as a start and then worked away on it. The sleeves are from Wingeo 207, but again, altered quite a bit (as I am NOT a giant). and these are the fabrics silk repp in light cream with dots, silk damask in light blue/beige, ivory silk taffeta (for lining). Soutache apricot (not pictured) :) I've used peach coloures soutache (2,5mm wide), about 12 metres. At first I was really sceptic about it, but I've used a colour scheme thingy on the internet called Paletton and determined the complementary colour to my blue-grey-brown silk was, in fact, peach. Wow, they did know what they were doing abck then. :) So I dived in head first and attached the soutache. I am NOT a peach person... really. But I like the result. ;) My biggest problem (apart from sleeves, right and left, buttonsholes patience and stuff like that) was to get fabric for the sleeve buttons matching the soutache - apricot IS A NIGHTMARE! I did manage after months of repetitive visits to the fabric store (selfless...). :) And here are pictures of the result: I am planning to make a matching hat like this for it, but have not got the materials for it yet (apart from the feathers and the black ribbon...)

A while ago, I decided that my second dress for the Jane Austen Festival would be made out of some yellow linen that I had gotten for a song at one of my favorite (now closed, sadly) fabric stores.…

Have you ever looked at a fashion history book -- the kind with lots of illustrations of the changing silhouettes -- and wondered why on earth the eighteenth century dandy and his furbelow-decked lady suddenly would drop their silken finery for clinging muslins and tight, shrunken suits? Photo: Typical 1780s chemise ensemble. Auguste Wilhelmine Maria of Hessen-Darmstadt and children. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons. Much has been written, and was even at that period, about how 1790s fashion reflected the decade's social turbulence by shifting more rapidly than at any recorded time previous. The French revolution had quite an effect on what women wore, of course, as did ever-increasing international trade with India and the Far East, import bans and taxes. So did the passion for Classicism so apparent in all of the arts, and Enlightenment philosophy and its result, and what one article (Wikipedia) calls the "triumph of informality". Still, when I pick up a random fashion history book, more than likely the author has chosen to slice and dice this period into sharply delineated sections. Poor 1790s: so often split up, your history divided by politics or ethos! Fashion's short-shrift decade. Photo: A Regency ensemble, 1798. Louise von Preussen. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons. (Oh yes, I hear you, those of you who love Nancy Bradfield's Costume in Detail: Women's Dress 1730-1930. She keeps the decade whole, and I love her too, relying on her superb drawings perhaps more than those of any other book. However, perhaps because she wasn't able to examine extant garments of these types, her book doesn't feature two garment styles that were important in marking the transition from Enlightenment to Regency. Norah Waugh's The Cut of Women's Clothes does to some degree too, but many of us find that book exceedingly expensive, and interlibrary loan isn't available to all of us Finally, there is a terrific costume exhibit at the Kent State University Museum, curated by Anne Bissonnette, titled "The Age of Nudity", that ran in 2006-2007. The exhibit website is still up, the text concise and authoritative, and the images marvelous, but such a brief view, and no book produced! Alas.) Let's do something different this time. In this post, I've collected an unscientific, convenience sampling of paintings and engravings and fashion plates from Wikimedia Commons, from the 1780s through about 1800. As you scan them, you will see something fascinating. The 1780s chemise dress will morph into the Regency gown, the 1780s open robe and redingote styles will open up and travel towards the back of the body until the resulting overgarment feels more like a sort of long jacket or long vest than a gown. To keep things moving along, I have focused mostly on these garments rather than on the wider breadth of styles in that were in favor, so that we can watch them grow and change, much as we watch caterpillars morph into butterflies. By the way, all this examination relates to a project. I have five months to complete an ensemble for the Jane Austen Festival in Louisville, and have chosen to dress for the years 1795-1797. Given that the months are slipping by fast, I've forgone the much of the research I usually do, so sad to say, I haven't read literature of the period or looked for period magazine texts or other sources for help. As always, please click on the images to see larger versions. I've also included links to the Wikimedia Commons originals, some of which are very large files with good detail. Here We Go... Here is a portrait of Princess Marie Josephine Louise of Savoy, called "Madame", the future wife of Louis XVIII of France. Her painter, Élisabeth-Louise Vigée-Le Brun, made this painting in 1782. Le Brun has painted Madame in a chemise dress of the time, an informal style worn for "undress" occasions. As Norah Waugh has it, the style was popularized by stylemaker Marie Antoinette, and was dubbed the chemise a la reine, after a portrait by Vigee le Brun that appeared at the 1783 Paris Salon (Waugh, p. 73). I wonder whether the style was already on the rise, since other women wear versions of it in paintings of slightly earlier date -- like the portrait above. After all, children had been wearing chemise dresses for some years (look at the little child in the top photo and Miss Willoughby, at right, 1781-1783, by George Romney), and fashionable people had been tiring of heavy or trim-encrusted, stiff-bodiced formal dress that had proclaimed wealth and status for centuries. Those of you who have studied the philosophy and social history of this period, do you have details or pointers to add? This dress is likely of muslin. The collar is trimmed with lace, which I imagine may be whipped on right to the edge of the muslin so that the lace forms a smooth extension of the collar edge. Like so many of these dresses, drawstrings likely are used to close it at neck and waist, and more drawstrings and ribbons to create the puffs on the arms. Also like so many chemise dresses, the waist -- at natural level -- is defined by a silk sash. Often you see them in blue or pink, sometimes in green. Yet in the photo at the top of this post, Auguste Wilhelmine Maria of Hessen-Darmstadt is wearing not a silk sash, but a shaped flat belt. Yes, let's have a look at a detail from the top photo again. That belt -- isn't it handsome? It appears to be embroidered, with a "buckle" being perhaps a portrait. It is hard to see and I do not have a larger version of this painting to hand. This painting also makes clear that not all chemise dresses were as loose as those worn a little later. This dress is loose only at the bust, while the lower section of the bodice is quite shaped, and the bodice is long. The dress has a sheen too, which makes me wonder it it might be made of a soft silk, perhaps a gauze? Let's move on to another example or two. Here's a painting of Elizabeth Foster, by Joshua Reynolds. Ms. Foster is quite fluffed out, no? Have a look at her dress. Here the chemise collar is worn high up, and the waistline is a little raised, courtesy that very wide, colorful sash, and see the ribbons that tie around her sleeves? They're pink and do not match the sash. One last example. This is Sarah Villiers, Viscountess of Jersey, by Ozias Humphrey, and painted in 1786. In this case, the chemise dress has a wide falling collar that spreads out over the shoulders, and a far narrower sash. Look at her sleeves: how long they are! Regency sleeves would often do this: be very long and pushed back to wrinkle up on the lower arm. Note how she wears her bracelet: over the sleeve. As you can see, just this limited sampling of dresses shows the variety that the chemise dress could take. Now, let's have a look at a few other examples of late 1780s dress, and look for items that would carry on into the next decade. Here is a 1780s sample, a portrait of Frederika Sophia Wilhelmina of Prussia, painted by Tischbein in 1789. While the princess wears her gown long-waisted, as had been popular for so very long, the fabric appears a little lighter than earlier in the century, and it is closed down the front rather than open with a stomacher. These round gowns had grown in favor...and from this point on, women's dresses would generally be closed up front rather than pinned or laced partially open, revealing garments or decor beneath. The princess is also wearing a fichu. Long worn for modesty, cleanliness and style, fichus in the 1780s began to bouf out a little, and by the 1790s would get positively pigeon-breasted. The princess' fichu is a little bouffy, and fortells the later frontward expansion. And her hair? Positively puffy, as it had been most of the decade. Costumers these days call it hedgehog hair. Much of it is wig, and it's still tinted gray with powder...you will see more of this styling in the 1790s, and it will become even less styled, before moving to a more natural look. Here is another portrait, from 1787, the Marquise de Pezay (or Pezé) and the Marquise de Rougé with her sons. (Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons.) Both women are wearing sashes, and informal round gowns with tight sleeves, of drapey, light fabrics. Note the stripes! Now here's something exciting. Look at the necklines: bouffy and gathered and round-necked, almost like a Regency gown line. It almost appears that they are showing their chemises or wearing chemisettes or perhaps they are wearing habit shirts, since the neckline appears to be real, not folds in a fichu. Look at the sleeves: tight, except for pretty puffs at the shoulders. We will see many sleeve puffs durin the Regency. The setting for such gowns? Outdoors, or indoors in a private room far from formal public functions. A final note. The Marquise de Pezay appears not to be wearing powder. Look, here is lady in Italy wearing a similar dress at an informal outdoor dance. Il Ballo, dated 1790, is delightful, no? Like many prints, it's full of details, too. The dancer is wearing a round gown, and like the Marquise's dress, it has rounded, gathered fabric (from chemise or tucker or what?) and the pretty sash. At the same function, the lady at the right who faces us is wearing the long-fashionable conical shaped, long-waisted open robe, closed with laces at the bodice, and opening out in the skirt to show the petticoat. Another informal garment that I was interested to find was the riding coat or redingote, a 1787 image of which is shown. I understand that it was usually made of wool in menswear styling, complete with large lapels. Wikipedia's 1750 - 1795 in Fashion reports that the redingote would be later worn over the chemise dress. Hmmm. Around the turn of the decade, the riding coat -- or whatever you want to call it -- and hat over a dress start turning up more frequently in my little sample of paintings. Here's one, a portrait of Giulia Beccaria and her son, from 1790. There are the big lapels, along with fabric that looks like wool to me, and that riding hat. Now, scroll back up and look at the lady sitting in her long-waisted dress at the right side in Il Ballo. We know that the open robe was an ancient design. Here's a common example from a little earlier in the century, a portrait of the Archduchess Maria Christine, painted in 1770. Notice how the dress -- called in French a robe -- opens up in the bodice to show the decorate stomacher, and in the front of the skirt a smallish portion of the skirt, called a petticoat, beneath. By the very early 1790s, that open robe was opening up more and more in the skirt, and the bodice sides were angling farther and farther back. More and more of what was ostensibly "beneath" was showing. Here is Rose Adelaide Decreux in 1791, playing the harp, dressed smashingly in stripes. The side view of her robe shows it pulling further and further to the back, while her petticoat is really all you see in the front. Look at the base of the petticoat: the big tall flounce, so fashionable for so long, has become a small frill. You will see that small frill through much of the 1790s at the bottom of skirt bottoms, before all becomes the severe Early Regency look. Oh, and there is that fichu, too, all bouffed out and pigeon-breasty, and cutely tied in back. Here's what I find fascinating. In a 1791 fashion plate, source of the latest in design, we see a lady playing with a yo-yo. She is wearing the open robe, not with stomacher and petticoat, but worn like a riding coat, and over a dress. You can see the dress sleeves, the decor on the dress bodice, the sash, and that robe, pulled back in the same fashion as Rose Adelaide wears it. This makes me wonder if Rose Adelaide is really wearing a dress? Here is another example of the open robe, this one in brown silk, from the portrait of Joseph Arkwright and his family. I note that the dress or petticoat is plain, but not muslin -- it has the sheen of silk. Did you notice how tall and narrow the hats have become since the late 1780s? Not the turbaned heads of the 1780s had disappeared. Far from it. See for example this portrait, below, of the Frankland sisters, painted in 1795 by John Hoppner. This is a favorite of mine, although I don't quite know why. It appears that they may have been drawing or watercoloring outside, to the boredom of their spaniel, who is napping happily on, not just at, their feet. About their dresses: times were changing. The sister on the right seems to be wearing a white muslin round gown with a fichu, but look at the waistline. It's rising a little. Her sister to the left is wearing a chemise dress. If you look carefully at the neckline, it's gathered, the way chemise dresses usually were, but the pretty lace frill appears to be quite narrow. At this point in the decade, and this might just be my sample talking, but it seems as if chemise dresses start to appear more and more frequently, and they are far more plainly built than their counterparts of a decade before. A famous Heideloff fashion plate from The Gallery of Fashion shows two young ladies in morning dresses described as of "calico" (fine muslin) fabric out for a drive. The year, 1794. Frills were still a bit fashionable. The lady on the right's chemise dress has a fine neckline frill, and her sleeves are quite full, controlled by ribbons in the middle of the upper arm by a colored ribbon. The driver wears a ruffled shawl above her dress. Here is Goya's Maria Teresa Cayetana de Silva. Spanish dress was always a little different or so it seems to be, featuring brighter colors in higher contrast, but if the sash and ribbon are bright, the dress itself might be worn anywhere. There's the narrow frill at neckline again. The narrowness makes the gathered sensation stand out more, and in fact, the whole front is gathered in such a way to accentuate the bustline, just as it would be through the Regency. The dress appears to be spotted, perhaps with embroidery, as dresses began to be, and the base has just a narrow band of embroidered trim. It's her sash and heavy classically-styled jewelry that stand out. Speaking of which...she is wearing a double strand of what are probably coral beads. You will see "corals" for the next thirty-odd years. In this year, it happens...the great change...antiquity begins to assert her rule in earnest. Here is Madame Seriziat, by David. The chemise dress, with falling collar, but where is the neckline ruffle, where are all the fluffs and puffs? The narrow round-gown-style sleeves to her dress have just little buttons as ornament, and the fabric, none. Only the rosette on her sash and her frankly flirty little hat, and the transition corset, remind me of earlier decades. The satirists were already at it, too. I love this print . At first you think it's serious, then you look at it a little more...is the lady in white really making her lovers match the Classical statuary? Then you read the title, "The Imitation of Antiquity". Of course. Now, notice her dress. Regency waistline, Regency neckline, but just a little fuller skirted than dresses would be later. As we move towards the end of the century, we enter the early Regency. Next post, let's watch what happens to skirts, the bodice and corset line, and to the vestigial frillery. This has been fun! Now go to 1790s Fashion: A Transition from The Enlightenment to Regency, Part 2 ...the rest of the story. Interested in Reading More? See all my 1790s posts, plus experiments in costuming in 1790s: Costumes. You'll find a lot of research, such as analysis of extant clothing, portraits, portrait miniatures, fashion magazine texts and plates, even translations from the German Luxus und der Moden, and of course secondary sources, that I've done in efforts to document each part of the costumes made.

I noticed that I haven’t posted any historical sewing updates since the summer. I have been working on several projects though, and some are nearing completion. My blue regency dress is (fina…

Floral Clothing Italian Waistcoat, circa 1720-40 Robe à la Française, circa 1765 Waistcoat, circa 1750-70 Robe à la Française, circa 1775 Court Coat, circa 1775-89 Robe à l’Anglaise, circa 17…

This time of year we start to dream about spring, but until then we all need something to keep us warm. And whats better then some nice woolen overdresses and redingotes.

I actually sewed! I've had this Sari sitting in my stash for a while, and I had a ton of (non-period) pale pink dupioni I got when the Joan...