1790s Petticoat & Bum Pad (HSM #8)

This post is part of my ongoing and slow work on a 1790s ensemble.

Last year, I was working on a petticoat and bum pad to create a foundation for a dress. The petticoat was pretty much done by the end of the year. The bum pad needed just a final fitting for me to decide if I liked the plumpness before sewing it closed.

After a fitting when the dress was very close to done I determined that I did like the plump pad (stuffed with scraps of the white striped cotton the petticoat and bum pad are made of).

With the bum pad being good to go, I was finally able to finish up the petticoat!

This is my entry for the Historical Sew Monthly 2024 Challenge #8 Stripes and Dots:

Make something using striped or dotted material. The stripes or dots can be printed on the material, knitted/woven in to the material, or created with surface embellishment (ex: embroidery). Textural stripes or dots (i.e: those that are the same colour as the base fabric) are permitted!

This petticoat is made from fabric with a narrow woven in stripe.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Approximately 3 yards of white striped cotton.

Pattern: From The American Duchess Guide To 18th Century Dressmaking by Lauren Stowell and Abby Cox.

Year: c. 1795.

Notions: Approximately 1 yard of 1/4″ white cotton twill tape, 4 hooks and loops, and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 100%. Entirely hand sewn, made from plausible fabric, using a pattern that is backed up by lots of research… I’d say this one is pretty accurate!

Hours to complete: About 2 ¼ hours.

First worn: Not yet worn.

Total cost: Approximately $4. The fabric was just $1 per yard when I purchased it years ago and the twill tape and hooks/loops were bought in super bulk and probably cost no more than $1 for all of the bits that I used.

More details:

The petticoat closes with a drawstring, as can be seen below. I love this, as it will make it easily adjustable (a common theme in my recent sewing projects!)

The front opening is finished on both sides with a narrow hem. It’s long enough that I didn’t feel the need to reinforce the bottom, as I don’t think I’m likely to rip it getting in and out.

The next photo shows that I left extra seam allowance at the sides and shoulder seams… again on the theme of garments being alter-able!

And finally, a hem! I needed to max out the length to accommodate the sheer dress that will be worn over this, so the hem is only about ¼”.

And that’s it! I’m excited to have another foundation piece for a new-to-me decade of clothing and I’m pleased that it is entirely hand sewn.

Excerpts From “How To Play Croquet” (1865)

While doing research to make sure friends and I had our rules correct for mid-19th century croquet over the summer, I came across this resource (with a fantastic lengthy name, as is common for these sorts of books in the 19th century): How To Play Croquet. A New Pocket Manual of Complete Instructions for American Players. Illustrated with Engravings and Diagrams Together with All the Rules of the Game: Hints on Parlor-Croquêt, and A Glossary of Technical Terms.

I found great enjoyment reading through the book (it’s not a long read) and think it will be fun to share some of the amusing passages here.

To start, a few excerpts from the introduction:

This next excerpt is from the section describing the game itself. I enjoy the word choice and the conclusion of the players shouting “Victory” and waving their mallets in the air!

And lastly, a few of the benefits of playing croquet, from the conclusion of the book.

I appreciate the final admonition about not cheating, but I have to say that when a game of croquet with friends gets too long and people stop paying attention… a bit of ‘move it along’ assistance to the game can be quite helpful!

Croquet At Roseland Cottage

The outing for which I planned to wear my updated 1815 Tree Gown was an afternoon of croquet and house tours at Roseland Cottage: a joint event hosted by The Footwork & Frolick Society and Historic New England (the organization that runs Roseland Cottage).

Roseland Cottage is a lovely pink house in Woodstock, CT that was built in 1846 by the Bowen family (you can read more about thr history of the house here on the Historic New England website). I’ve been to the house before and posted about it on the blog — in a different post about playing croquet! That outing, which you can read about in this past post, was in 1860s clothes.

A rather moody looking Roseland Cottage on the day of this year’s outing is pictured below. It was overcast, which was nice because it wasn’t super hot, but we did have a fantastic rain and thunder storm roll through halfway through the event. Lightening struck the lawn outside of the house! Luckily, we knew it was coming and were able to transition indoors to play tabletop croquet and have tea. No one was rained on!

And I was pleased, because Roseland is lovely, the company was delightful, and my updated Tree Gown was freshly revived and very comfortable!

It felt important to show off the updated back of my gown for documentation here on the blog!

Roseland has a beautiful and well maintained garden, and in addition to that, I also appreciated the cute cart (detail photo below) full of additional flowers that was situated on the lawn. It made for a wonderful photo accessory, as you can see in the photo above!

As I mentioned in my post about altering the gown (linked at the top of this post), I’m so pleased to be able to give this dress extended life!

When The Dress No Longer Fits (1815 Tree Gown)

I’ve loved my 1815 Tree Gown ever since I made it in 2013 (here is the link to the original post about making the dress) and have worn it many times, most recently last summer for a Regency picnic which I posted about here. It was clear at that point that this dress needed to be updated to fit my current shape!

Making a plan

I finally had the brain space to deal with it this summer (and the added encouragement of wanting to be able to wear it in June). So, accordingly, I dug out the small bit of fabric I had leftover from originally making the dress.

Then, I took stock of what was needed. In a fitting, I realized that not only were the sleeves now a bit too tight, but the shoulders were also not quite wide enough for my now-broader shoulder width, which was also contributing to the dress wanting to fall off of my shoulders. Ugh!

There was no easy way to deal with that second problem except to make the back wider… So, I took a deep breath and decided to replace the back panels.

Making it happen: taking the dress apart

I had seam ripped the arm seams last year after realizing they needed to be let out, so the sleeves were already in that taken-apart state.

As I was taking apart the back, I remembered that I had taken a tuck in the finished dress to make the armsceye a little smaller. Alas, letting this out was not nearly enough to prevent me from needing to replace the back panels.

Making it happen: forming a new plan

Fast forward through a bit of seam ripping (French seams make for a lovely finish, but also mean double the seam ripping!), and I had a bunch of loose panels flopping around. I used the original back pieces and my desired new measurements to cut mockup pieces of what I thought the back should become. I safety pinned those in and tried the dress on to make sure I was on the right track.

Here is the old back piece laid over the mockup. It’s not a huge difference, but that 1″ or so on most edges made a huge difference in terms of fit.

I also made a pattern piece for the arm gusset I needed based on the measurements I wanted the new sleeve size to be. In the end, I decided to extend the gusset all the way down to the cuff opening, as I figured a little extra room for my hand to get through was a reasonable idea (it was a tight squeeze otherwise!).

Then, I used my minimal scraps to cut out the new pieces. I’m super pleased that even with small scraps I was able to match up the block printed areas!

For the back pieces, the image below shows what I had to work with. Not much! I could fit both pieces if I didn’t maintain symmetry in the block print, but… I did such a nice job matching it up when the dress was made! I just couldn’t bring myself not to make the re-do match, too! But I couldn’t get two pieces with matched patterns out of what was left.

It was too much to think about late at night and I knew I only had one chance at cutting to get it right…

So I took a break and came back to it another day. And I had a brainstorm! The way to make my goal happen was to piece one of the pieces somewhere. I could have placed an extra seam in a shoulder area, but that seemed more obvious than my second option given the sheer fabric of the dress. The second option that I decided on is a vertical seam in the white space near the center back opening. There was just enough fabric to make it happen!

Making it happen: putting the dress back together

With my new back pieces cut, it was just a matter of putting them back into all of the seams (including the armsceyes, shoulders, side back, and waist). I was able to reset the sleeves without any of the original gathers, which allowed for the extra circumference my new back pattern had created. Then, I created a new drawstring channel along the neckline and re-applied my closures… and the update was complete!

Here is the new back view of this dress, with the pieced seam on right (but with symmetrical block printing!).

I used a French seam to attach the pieced bit, so that it would match all of the other seams in the dress and stay nice and tidy with no fraying edges.

I also made the right side of the drawstring come out before the center back edge, so that the overlap with the hook can still function properly while the drawstring pulls up the excess width across my shoulders that I included. (There was extra in the original version, too… but I maxed that out years ago!)

Here’s another view of the lovely, tidy interior of the dress with the updated back.

And finally, here is a photo of the finished sleeves with the added gussets. Where the block printing is located the seams blend so well you can’t even see them! It makes my heart pitter-patter with glee!

The final step after putting in the gussets was to re-hem the cuff openings.

And then… this dress was updated! Now it’s a story of ‘when the dress fits again!’

Playing Parlor Games

Part of the goal of the spring outing I recently posted about was to play parlor games with The Footwork & Frolick Society at the Boutwell House in Groton, MA. This was a fun public outreach event during which we invited guests at the open house to join us in parlor games from the mid-19th century.

Many parlor games from this period are somewhat sedate and word based. Others are more active, such as passing a ring around a ribbon in a circle while someone in the middle tries to guess who is hiding the ring.

There is also a game in which a person has to go around to everyone in the room and ask for something to take on an imaginary journey. It can get a bit silly as people add items to the imaginary traveling trunk.

I didn’t participate in every game, but I greatly enjoyed observing guests having fun even when I wasn’t actively participating.

A second dress of mine made it out of the closet to attend this event, too! You can read all about the construction of Georgina (a cotton print dress from 1858 pictured below) in this past post from 2013.

Even the volunteers at Boutwell House enthusiastically joined in with our games, providing a wonderful atmosphere for guests.

I had great fun, and even laughed myself into tears trying to do a quadrille figure ‘blindfolded’ (we did it with our eyes closed). There is video evidence of this amusing attempt here, on the F&F Instagram page. Yes, dancing a quadrille blindfolded is, in fact, an official published parlor amusement from the mid-19th century!

Photo credit for the last four photos: Steve Lieman

1817 Duchess Gown in Bridgerton Style

The Footwork and Frolick Society hosted a Bridgerton themed ball in May! Here are a few atmospheric shots.

For this event, I chose to wear my 1817 Duchess Gown (you can read about the inspiration and making of the dress, here). I love this dress and haven’t had a reason to wear it in years. Plus, I figured the neutral color would pair well with a few nods to the colorful style of Bridgerton costumes.

In the past, I’ve had fun pairing this gown with other colors and accessories, as well! You can read another past post where I show multiple wearings together here.

The dress is a sheer striped organza, which is fun because I can show off fancy historical underwear with it! I usually wear my 1814 Vernet petticoat so that the fancy trim around the bottom can be shown off (in addition to a second petticoat to make the ensemble fully opaque.) The second petticoat is functional more than decorative, and is the one I recently posted about that needed a size update to fit properly again!. Wearing it with this sheer dress for the ball was the push I needed to make the petticoat fit really well–I didn’t want odd lines showing under the sheer Duchess Gown!

In addition to the decorative Vernet petticoat, other accessories for this wearing included clocked silk stockings from American Duchess, white flats purchased from a consignment store about ten years ago, a gold bead necklace that ties with a ribbon that I don’t wear often (I usually gravitate towards other more sparkly jewelry), and three nods to the colorful style of Bridgerton.

My nods to color included a green organza sash (that I’ve worn with this dress before–see images in this past post from 2019), green and gold earrings (from the Downton Abbey collection a number of years ago), and flowers in my hair, including some vivid pink ones. I’ve had these flowers for about 25 years and rarely wear them. They’re pretty bright! But for the Bridgerton theme they made perfect sense!

The company at the ball was charming and the dancing was enthusiastic! My Duchess Gown even had an old friend visit in the form of my 1811 Elusive Blue Gown worn by a friend! I love that these garments are getting to be worn again!

Photo credit for this last photo: Lucas Clauser

Sophie In Springtime

The lilacs were blooming in May, joyfully spreading their scent to all who passed by.

Photo credit for this photo: Steve Lieman

I was grateful to be able admire their beauty and celebrate spring with an outing in Sophie, my trusty 1861 twisted stripe cotton print dress. I made this dress in 2016 and posted about the construction in this past post.

The overcast sky didn’t dampen my spirits!

The diffused light was actually quite lovely and I enjoyed whirling around in the fresh air.

I hope your springtime held unexpected joy, as well!

When The (Regency) Petticoat No Longer Fits (HSM #5: New Clothes From Old)

While we’re on the subject of updating clothing that no longer fits quite right (this is continued from my last post about updating a pair of 1860s drawers, which you can read here), I have another post about updating a layer of historical underwear for fit.

A few background thoughts

In the past 15 years or so that I’ve been making historical clothing, I’ve also changed sizes and some of the clothes I made early on just no longer fit. The usual culprits are the waist, bust, and shoulder width. (It’s not necessarily all for the worst. My shoulders and arms are bigger because I’m gaining strength and being active, so that’s a healthy change!)

I’ve been able to wear more of my historical clothes recently and the more I wear the older ones, the more I realize just how much my shape has changed.  Because I have some lovely garments that I still want to be able to wear, I’ve been updating these garments to better fit my current shape.

Background on this particular garment

I made an early 19th century bodiced petticoat in 2012 (here is my post from back then sharing research about this type of garment). Since then, I’ve gained inches in the bust, ribcage circumference, and in the width of my shoulders. So despite wearing this petticoat and making do, I finally reached a point where it became important to make this fit better.

Here is the bodice portion of the petticoat before my alterations, from the front and back.

I determined that I needed a whole new front piece–one that would be wider across the bust and with more gathers to condense to the ribcage size. I also realized that it would be helpful to make the side back pieces a little more substantial, with a taller side seam to match the new front.

Update details

Thankfully, I keep lots of fabric scraps! And in this case, I actually still have yardage of the fabric I made the petticoat from. So no problems there — I was able to easily cut out a new front with updated dimensions as well as bits to add to the side pieces to extend them (I didn’t feel like replacing them entirely — this petticoat already is a bit pieced at the center back, where I had previously added fabric in order to help make it a little larger a few years ago).

After cutting new pieces came the boring part of unpicking the original front. Ugh! I don’t enjoy taking apart things that I’ve made! But I did it.

I thought I might machine sew the new pieces on, but I was more inclined to complete this project while not near my sewing machine, so I did it by hand instead. I replicated all of the same seam finishes from the original bodice front (because I like consistency, but not because they are historically accurate, in this case).

Here are the results!

And here are closeups of my very pieced method of creating larger side back pieces (you can also see the extendo I added to the back at some point about 6 years ago).

Unfortunately, when I tried on the adjusted petticoat I realized that the armsceyes were uncomfortably small. I was not going to be able to deal with that! “Get it off!” was my exact though. To fix that problem, I added strap extender bits to the front of the straps.

This worked great! And now, I have a petticoat that fits again! It covers my current bust size AND fits across the back (in fact, I made it even a little too wide across the back because I figured that might be helpful).

Here is a photo of the inside of the new front bodice piece. Both the old bodice front and the new one have a drawstring along the top edge. And you can see that I left additional strap length for theotrical future of letting-out.

I’m calling this my entry for the Historical Sew Monthly 2024 Challenge #5 New Clothes from Old:

Make something new out of a worn-out garment or accessory. Or make something using recycled materials.

I believe I’ve recycled a worn-out garment into something new and ready to use again!

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Scraps of white cotton.

Pattern: My own.

Year: c. 1812.

Notions: Thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 100%. It’s completely reasonable to extend the life of a garment like this by altering it.

Hours to complete: 4? It took some time to seam rip and then I was meticulous about stitching the new pieces on. I didn’t really keep track.

First worn: On May 4.

Total cost: Free! Materials were scraps left over from the original project.

It took a bit longer than expected to hand sew all of the updates I needed to make, especially with the late-to-the-party addition of the strap update. I was pleased to finish this the day before it was needed! (More on that later!)

When The 1860s Drawers No Longer Fit (HSM #11: Worn By All)

I have a series of posts called When The Dress No Longer Fits that document how I’ve updated the size of various dresses I’ve made to fit better as my size changes over time (or as the dresses shrink in the closet, which is how I usually describe it!).

In this case, I’ve adapted that post-naming-style for another garment I recently updated. In this case, I altered an old pair of 1860s drawers rather than a dress!

It brings me joy to be able to extend the life of garments I already have in my closet. For these drawers, being able to adjust the size of the waistband has allowed me to continue to use them for many years. Proof: I documented these drawers on the blog in 2013 (and I’m pretty sure I made them in 2011 or 2012) so they have being faithfully serving their duty for over 10 years!

In that time, they’ve seen lots of use. I’m pleased that they have held up very well. About 8 years ago, I let down some tucks to make the legs a little longer (so that the top of my stockings/knees wouldn’t show–because, gasp, that would be shocking!) and I also increased the waistband size about 6 years ago. Below, a photo of the drawers with those first round of alterations made.

And below is a closeup of the waistband after that first round of alterations. I don’t remember why I thought a closure method of a cord looped in a figure eight around two buttons made sense. I can’t remember a source for this idea… but it has worked for many years. It’s been wonderful because it allows for adjustability (up to a point of running out of cord length to loop between the buttons securely, of course).

But recently, even with the increased waistband size, there was still a gap at the waist and the gathering of the legs into the waistband was no longer distributed in a way that helped the back edges stay closed when being worn. That’s not the end of the world in terms of modesty, as I always have a chemise on underneath, but it wasn’t my favorite look, either.

So I decided to do something about it. I added yet another extendo to the waistband. “Why remake the entire waistband?” I mused. The would need a bigger section of fabric and be more work. No one sees the waistband of my drawers except me, friends getting dressed near me, and you readers on the blog!

So now, here are the most recent updates to these old drawers, with a second extendo added to the waistband. Taking the waistband apart to add the new pieces reminded me that I’d stiffened the waistband lightly by adding a layer of linen in between the two layers of cotton. This is a note to self that this method has worked well, creating a waistband that doesn’t collapse and wrinkle horribly around the waist while also not being super stiff.

I also decided to change the closure method to a button and button hole. The old wrapping the cord in a figure eight method had the added challenge of being a bit tricky to do behind my own back. I decided that while a button would be less adjustable (without resewing it), the larger size button would be easier to do up than the cord wrapping.

I also made a bit of extra waistband for the day when I might need to increase the waist size even more (but I’ll pretend that day isn’t coming). And I decided to hand sew the buttonhole, because it was being fussy on my machine and I figured it would be faster to sew it by hand than fight the machine!

Here is a closeup of what the waistband looks like with the most recent extendo. For this round of alterations, I also completely removed the waistband and redistributed the gathers and side points to better match the new waistband size (these alterations are machine sewn). This makes the drawers more effectively lay in place.

I’m calling this my entry for the Historical Sew Monthly 2024 Challenge #11: Worn by All:

Make a garment that would be worn as everyday clothing by most social classes during your chosen time period and/or place.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Scraps of white cotton and linen (Is it the same white cotton and linen as the original drawers? Nope, but that’s ok with me for this project!)

Pattern: None. I just added rectangles.

Year: c. 1860.

Notions: 1 shell button and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 98%. It’s completely reasonable to extend the life of a garment like this by altering it. The only non-accurate thing might be the machine sewing–although it is pretty subtle!

Hours to complete: 2? I didn’t really keep track.

First worn: Worn on May 19 with an 1860s ensemble.

Total cost: Free! Materials were scraps left over from other projects.

This was one of the small sewing tasks on my Maybe-To-Do list for 2024 as well as being one of the small projects that was stacking up on my alterations-and-mending pile. I’m so pleased to have checked it off!

The Happy Clover Dress Gets A New Zipper

As I was getting dressed in my Happy Clover Dress one day last summer, I was pulling up the zipper… and it broke! I don’t remember exactly how it broke, now that I stop and think about it months later… I think that the pull came off of the teeth, or the pulling part came off of the part that grips the teeth… I don’t remember precisely, but needless to say, it was broken.

Below: the Happy Clover dress with its original zipper.

The original zipper was repurposed from a 1980s dress I took apart to make a 1920s beaded dress back in 2013 (a post about making that 1920s dress, including photos of the 1980s dress before I took it apart, can be seen here).

With the broken zipper, the dress wasn’t wearable! So on the day that is broke, I changed my outfit and put the Happy Clover Dress in the to-be-mended pile. Not long after that I bought a new YKK zipper in matching shade of teal. And then… the dress and zipper sat there for about 9 months…

Fast forward to May of this year and I was really tired of looking at my large mending-and-alterations-to-do pile (is that sounding familiar yet?)! I want to get back to sewing some of my larger projects and am craving both the physical space and mental release of completing the mends and alterations in order to do that.

So… that led me to finally put the new zipper into the dress!

Yes, the zipper is in! Just as before, it is centered and topstitched. This is due mostly to the fact that the zipper nestles under pleats in the back skirt, which means that it has to be sewn in two sections–the bodice section and the skirt section–to keep the pleats form being sewn down with the zipper.

You can see that in the photo above and you can also barely make out my extra backstitching where those two sections of stitching meet in the photo below.

Here’s a closer photo of the fun teal color of the new zipper!

And that’s it! Just in time for warm weather, the Happy Clover Dress is back in action! Yay!