Presenting A Patience-Testing Practical Pelerine, 1835, Part II (HSM #10)

In my last post, I shared the inspiration for a freshly completed garment called a pelerine. I also shared more about what, exactly, a pelerine is. Today’s post will focus on the process of making my pelerine.

Making It Work

As I said in my last post, it was a squeeze to fit my pelerine pieces on the blue cotton print fabric I had leftover after making my 1836 dress (which you can read all about in this past post). I started by re-using the failed sleeves for the front pieces, as you can see in the photo below. Recycling! This was a great use of the failed sleeves! (This past post shares the story of the failed sleeves and successful second attempt.)

Sewing… With Some Bumps Along The Way

In theory the pelerine is pretty straightforward. There is a lining of grey cotton and an exterior of blue printed cotton. They get bagged out and then there’s a pelerine! But I decided to add the complicated addition of a decorative edging band as well as cording.

The process started out just fine. I had my exterior and lining cut, made narrow cording, and cut wide strips of bias that were pressed in half to make the edging band. The layers made a nice little sandwich. (It was a bit mind boggling to make sure that the right sides were together and the cording and edging were layered in both the correct order and correct directions to make it all turn right side out properly!) The sandwich is below.

I pinned all the way around my pelerine, leaving an opening along one back side so I could turn it right side out. The opening is visible in the next photo.

Oops… Once it was turned right side out I realized I’d made a mistake! Can you spot it in the next photo?

I don’t even remember how I did this, but somehow my cording went from being visible on the exterior of the pelerine (on the left of the photo) to being hidden below the edging band (on the right of the photo). I can’t remember how it happened. Anyway… it was an issue.

I did some unpicking, re-sandwich-ing, and resewed the pelerine so the cording would be visible on both the left and right sides. But there was a new issue! This one is easier to spot in the next photo, I think.

The edging band has lovely points at the center front. These are a bit of a mind-boggle to figure out when the whole band is tucked up inside of the main body while the whole thing is wrong side out. I’d finished both of them with the correct angle the first time around, when the cording was wrong, but then when I fixed that I changed the edging band angle thinking I was making sense… And I’d trimmed the seam allowance.

The only thing to do was piece the edging band. It’s fine. You really can’t see it from a distance, or even up close in the photo below unless you look really carefully (I did try to match the pattern as best as I could without driving myself crazy!). If you zoom in on The Met images, I love that you can see piecing on those, too!

Below is an image of the finished pelerine from father away. Can you see the piecing? My guess is “no” unless you look very, very carefully!

Finishing Details

The front of the pelerine closes with hooks and loops. Top, bottom, and sort of center (placed strategically to keep the pelerine closed over the bust). It turns out that a center-point to keep the pelerine from gapping is not quite a halfway point down the front edge, as you can see in the photo below.

Here is a closeup of the finished decorative edging band and cording.

And that’s it!

HSM Details

The Historical Sew Monthly theme #10 for October 2026 is Your Own Challenge:

Either tackle something that you have put off doing because you have found it personally challenging, or create a different & new personal challenge of your own – perhaps a full ensemble that’s intimidating? Sewing something that requires learning a new skill or stitch? Share your challenge with the HSM community if others are looking for inspiration.

Side note: I haven’t explained the Historical Sew Monthly in awhile. It is a choose-as-you-can community building sewing challenge originally hosted by The Dreamstress blog. It’s been running for about fifteen years at this point! These days new challenges and other information is housed in a Facebook group. Information about the group is still available here, where the original concept is explained on The Dreamstress blog as well.

I decided that my October challenge is Procrastination, Patience, and Practicality! For a pelerine. In a post. Alliteration is the thing here.

Why procrastination? Well, I didn’t feel I could complete the pelerine until I made the dress (to make sure the pattern shape worked, but also to make sure I had enough fabric). The dress took about six years to finally be completed, so the pelerine was on hold for all of that time, as well.

Why patience? This sewing process definitely took patience!

Why practicality? I love that, in addition to the removable bows and interchangeable belt colors for my dress, I also will now have the option of wearing it with or without the pelerine! More variations!

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Approximately 1 yard of blue cotton print and 1 yard of solid grey cotton.

Pattern: My own

Year: 1835.

Notions: 3 metal hooks and loops, 2 yards of narrow cording, and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 99%. Materials that are pretty darn good for 2026 and the pattern is adapted from originals.

Hours to complete: Approximately 5 ¾ (even with my mistakes!).

First worn: Not yet!

Total cost: Approximately $6. The fabrics were a score at only $3 per yard from the local discount store. The closures and cording were purchased in super bulk.

Someday I’ll find a fun reason to wear the pelerine and get photos of it being worn!

Presenting A Patience-Testing Practical Pelerine, 1835: Part I

I always had hope that there would be enough fabric left over after making my 1836 blue cotton print dress to make a matching pelerine. (I posted lots of details about the 1836 dress in this recent post.) This idea would create a matching set for my 1836 ensemble, just as its companion 1837 dress has a matching set. (I shared information about the 1837 pelerine when I posted about it in this past post).

I’m pleased to say that it was a squeeze, but with the leftover fabric from the two dresses I had enough fabric to make a pelerine!

I’m going to share all about the process of making this pelerine (and the oops moments I had along the way!) in my next post. This post is going to start with some background information about what a pelerine is and the extant garments that directly inspired my pelerine.

First Things First

First, what is a pelerine? Merriam-Webster defines it as:

a woman’s narrow cape made of fabric or fur and usually with long ends hanging down in front

In that entry, the first use of the word is documented in 1744, likely in French, from pèlerine. This definition is both generic and particular. It certainly describes the garment I’m posting about, but the word “narrow” reminds me much more of the style and shape of these garments at other points in time in the 18th and 19th centuries rather than during the 1830s.

In the 1830s, the style of pelerine that I was inspired by was certainly not narrow! But that goes along with the fashionable silhouette of the time, which included an exceptionally wide shoulder/neck line and the illusion of very long and sloping shoulders. This style of pelerine helps to create that illusion. The Metropolitan Museum of Art has a short description of a lace pelerine from about 1835 that emphasizes this idea and shares a little more about popular decorative styles for pelerines at this time, as well.

This wider pelerine look continues through the middle of the 19th century (just as the sloping shoulder silhouette continues). This very short article published by the Arizona State University FIDM Museum is packed with information about pelerines and includes images of multiple mid-19th century examples. Check it out! I found the information in it to be a rabbit hole of further information to dig into.

Looking Further

The ASU FIDM Musuem article provides a alternate first use date for the word pelerine of 1717. It also includes a link to pelerine examples in the New York Public Library Digital Gallery Collections that focus on the 19th century but also includes examples of similar garments from the 20th century and examples of pèlerin from earlier centuries. Pèlerin, it turns out, translates to pilgrim. In this image, for example, a pèlerin is shown on the bottom row, second from the right. Given the various locations outside of Western Europe that these pèlerin examples are visiting or returning from (Jerusalem, locations in Africa, and more), it’s worth considering whether the garment was purely a practical one for travelers or if there was any influence from local cultures on the garment. It’s a rabbit hole I would like to keep following. Eventually.

1830s Inspiration

For now, back to my 19th century blue cotton print pelerine. My favorite inspiring extant pelerines, below, are both at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. From these I took details of patterning, silhouette, finishing, etc.

Afternoon dress. American, ca. 1835. Gift of Mrs. Alexander Wyckoff, 1954. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Object Number: C.I.54.48a, b)
Walking ensemble. American, ca. 1835. Gift of Mrs. James Sullivan, in memory of Mrs. Luman Reed, 1926. The Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Object Number: 26.250.1a, b)

Both of these are from 1835, hence the date in the title of this post.

I liked that these both have a decorative edging band to them that helps set the pelerine apart from the rest of the dress. With my blue cotton print it’s all a bit busy, so the visual distinction is helpful. The narrow cording between the edging band and the main body of the pelerine is an additional a subtle touch that helps distinguish the edge of the pelerine.

In my next post, which will be Part II, I’ll explain the patience-testing and practical elements of this pelerine. Stay tuned!

1830s Blue Cotton Print Dress Friends!

The 1836 Blue Cotton Print Dress I recently posted about making (on the left in the photo below) has a very similar dress-friend… It’s like looking in a mirror!

In fact, I purchased the fabric for the 1837 dress first (on the right in the photo above). When I started making the dress and saw how cute it was I decided I needed some of that fabric for a dress for me, too! I wrote about making that first 1837 dress back in 2022, which you can read about in this post.

We enjoyed trying different colors and styles of ribbons than we had in the past to complement the colors in the cotton print for this wearing.

And fun to play 1830s-bumper-sleeves!

I find great joy in noting the construction, pattern, and accessory differences between our two dresses. It’s neat to see how the same fabric can produce two dresses from the same period and in the same general silhouette, but with two different styles!

1836 Blue Cotton Print Dress (HSM #7)

I finished a large UFO! (That’s an Un-Finished Object.)

This is exciting because it’s been a few years in the making. You see, in 2020 I started a blue 1830s dress using the same fabric that I used for a friend’s dress. (You can see that dress in this past post. I even mention my in-progress blue dress at the end of the post!). In 2021, my dress was cut out but not assembled and by 2022, I’d started assembling the dress. I got as far as the bodice, skirt, and sleeves. But I was SO unhappy with the sleeves! They were not doing what I wanted at all. So the dress sat in the state in the image below for the next three years. From a sewing perspective, it remained on my “hopefully complete” to do list, but I didn’t have the heart to go back to the frustrating sleeves.

In 2025, however, I attached the skirt to the bodice. And, I looked at the sleeves again. I was still so sad… Finally, in early 2026 I found the energy needed to tackle the sleeves once again. I made an entirely new sleeve pattern and was finally able to move forward. My last blog post shares all the details about these new sleeves. It can be read here.

Below, showing off these new sleeves!

Next, a closeup showing the sleeves and other bodice details. The busy print on the cotton fabric hides some of the details, so its easy to appreciate them in a closer view.

Aside from the sleeves, the construction details for this dress are very similar to those for my 1838 yellow print cotton dress, which I detailed in this past post.

The white garment with the large collar is my 1836 chemisette, which I made to go with my 1838 dress bodice, as well as this dress. It’s great to have accessories that can be used for multiple outfits! You can read all about it in this past blog post.

Here’s a back view. The back of this dress is lovely, but plain.

This is my entry for the 2026 HSM Challenge #7 Artistic Inspiration:

Create something using inspiration from paintings, sketches, fashion plates, and even written references like books, diaries or newspapers, etc.

This dress is directly inspired by this fashion plate!

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: 7.5 yards of blue cotton print and 1 yard of recycled (from other projects) cotton muslin.

Pattern: My own, adapted from Patterns of Fashion, The Cut of Women’s Clothes, and The Workwoman’s Guide.

Year: 1836.

Notions: 11 metal hooks and 5 metal loops, 4 yards of narrow cording, 5 yards of 5/32″ cording, 2 yards of 2″ wide dark green petersham ribbon, and 3 yards of 1 ½” wide dark green petersham ribbon.

How historically accurate is it?: 99%. Materials that are pretty darn good for 2026, the pattern is adapted from originals, and it uses historical sewing processes.

Hours to complete: 25 ¾.

First worn: March 7, 2026.

Total cost: Approximately $40. The fabric was a score at only $3 per yard from the local discount store, the ribbons were a few dollars each per yard, and the rest of the materials were either purchased in bulk, leftover from other projects, or recycled.

And that’s it! I’ve now finished 1830s bodice/dress combinations for 1834, 1836, and 1838! It’s been fun to play with silly 1830s sleeve shapes and I now have so many variations of 1830s daywear to wear!

Successful Sleeves For An 1836 Blue Cotton Print Dress

I started a blue cotton print dress six years ago that had been on hold for a long time to due frustrations in getting the sleeves to look the way I wanted. I’ll share more about the story of the dress as a whole in my next post, but for now I want to focus on the story of the sleeves.

My goal was to create something with the silhouette of the Morning Dress below, which was published by Joseph Robins in The Ladies’ Pocket Magazine in October 1836 (National Portrait Gallery NPG D47686).

I started with a sleeve pattern from The Workwoman’s Guide (published in 1838 and available in full online here). This had worked for other 1830s sleeves I’d been making around the same time, but I was SO unhappy with what I came up with for this sleeve. It just was not the correct pattern to achieve the look of the fashion plate at all!

Below is a photo of part of that first sleeve iteration. There was a puff at the top, as well. But the top puff was too tall, the sleeve had the wrong shape, not enough fullness at the wrist, the cuffs were too small (they barely closed), and they were without a substantial enough point to mimic the fashion plate.

So many issues! I was so upset and annoyed that the whole project went into the “in trouble” pile to languish. I didn’t put the rest of the dress away, because I wanted to put it away as a finished project, so in the interim I just had a half finished dress hanging in plain sight for literally years…

This year, I was finally inspired to try again. I decided I just had to start over from scratch and make a pattern that was based on my knowledge of how to achieve a silhouette rather than what was in The Workwoman’s Guide. After creating a pattern that looked good in a mockup, I took apart the old sleeve to see what I would have to work with as well as looking at the remainder of the fabric that had been leftover after cutting out the dress. It wasn’t much, nor were any pieces big enough for the new pattern I’d created. Eek! Would I have to do lots of piecing?

But I had a saving grace, which is that I’d saved the leftovers from my friend’s matching fabric dress with the hope of making a pelerine for myself someday. I decided sleeves were more important than a pelerine and asked if I could use the fabric for that purpose. Luckily, I was well supported with a strongly worded “Yes, make sleeves!”

Fabric sorted out, I proceed to cut and assemble the new sleeves. I mostly used the extra yardage for the new pieces, but by maxing out the seam allowance, the new cuffs were able to be cut from the old ones. They already had piping along the bottom edge and I added it to the tops at this point, as well.

Then the bottoms of the new sleeves were gathered and pinned. I decided to topstitch these by hand in order to keep the nice points and the gathers evenly distributed. I’d realized when I made a mockup sleeve that these details would be way too fiddly to do well on a machine!

Below is an assembled new sleeve. It looks a bit silly laid flat on a table, but it actually does make sense on an arm!

I had just a few steps left. First, attaching the sleeves to the bodice. Second, adding decorative elements below the top puff. Third, putting closures on the cuffs.

Looking at the fashion plate, it’s unclear exactly what the trim below the top puff of the sleeve is. My eyes perceive it as being the same color as the dress and some form of twist. I thought about this for awhile and decided to go with bulky piping. Instead of the tiny stuff used for bodices, cuffs, etc. I used leftover 5/16″  cotton upholstery cord from decorating projects.

I pieced together some rectangular scraps of the blue cotton, pressed one long edge under, and then wrapped it around the cord and whip stitched it in place. A bit tedious, but sometimes a good repetitive project with no thinking is just the thing. Below is a photo of the finished covered cord, as well as the uncovered cord across the top of the image, to show what is inside.

After finishing the cord, I started from both ends to make a twist that would wrap around the sleeve. I just eyeballed it while pinning the cord in place and then hand stitched it to the dress from the underside, creating a floating twist effect.

Being matching fabric to the dress, it is a detail that blends from a distance, but up close adds a subtle level of detail to the dress.

You’ll also notice that I added green grosgrain ribbon bows to the sleeves, as well! This is something that was directly inspired by the fashion plate. I’d bought this ribbon in 2021 when the first of my 1830s cotton print dress adventures began and it had been sitting and patiently waiting for me to finally get around to finishing this dress ever since!

One bow puff didn’t quite look like what I wanted for the sleeves, though I liked the single width of ribbon for the hanging ties. So I added another puff to the horizontal section of the bow to make it appear a little more robust. Scraps of ribbon were used to make the bow centers, as I used up every single inch of ribbon I’d purchased!

After so many years of low level annoyance at this unfinished dress, it is extra exciting to finally have it finished, actually feel pleased with the results, and have been able to wear it! I’ll share more photos of the entire dress in its finished state next time.

1838 Yellow Print Dress At Tea

One of the fun features of The Footwork & Frolick Society’s annual fundraiser tea event is that F&F members and volunteers wear clothing representing the span of the Victorian period. (I recently posted a behind the scenes look at the tea that you can read here, if you are interested.) If you read this blog often, you likely know that I love pulling different historical outfits out of my closet for things like this!

Last year, I wore the 1884 Plaid Wool Dress in the photo below (which you can read more about here, in a detailed post about this garment). This made sense as Boutwell House, where we host the tea, starts out at a pretty cool temperature. I hadn’t worn this outfit in awhile, so that was fun, too! However, after brewing tea for hours and the warmth of everyone’s body heat (and the fact that the heating system finally kicked in), I was pretty warm in my wool outfit by the end of the day!

So this year, I decided to wear cotton! I landed on my 1838 yellow print dress because I hadn’t worn it in awhile, I wasn’t worried about it being in the kitchen (in terms of space and fabric type), and the sleeves are just plain silly! Below, this year’s 1838 yellow print dress in the dining room with the fabulous honeycomb wallpaper!

Looking at the photos, I realized I forgot to put on (or didn’t think I’d need, perhaps) my 1830s skirt puffer. You can read more about what that is in this past post, but essentially it’s a stiff ruffle that helps hold out the skirt at the top. This works in tandem with a corded petticoat to help hold the skirt out throughout the rest of the length. You can read all about the corded petticoat I made in this past post. What I’ve realized is that I DO need the skirt puffer! Always!

Despite this oversight, I was excited to try out a new ribbon belt color for this wearing. The last time I wore this bodice, in 2021, I chose not to wear a belt at all. Details about that wearing are in this past post and below is a photo of what this dressed looked like in that iteration.

I’m not sure which version I like better! I think no belt helps make the pleats on the bodice stand out more, but I also like that the belt helps break up the print. What do you think?

In case anyone is curious, I’ll share my sources for these accessories. I share because I think the items are great, not because I earn a commission or anything of that sort.

The yellow fabric of the dress is a Marcus Brothers Old Sturbridge Village Print that I acquired in 2013. I remember that detail because I posted about the fabric back then! You can read that past post here. In addition to my yellow fabric, reproduction floral stripes were a theme in other outfits at this year’s tea, as well, as you can see below!

Below, floral stripes consulting about… who knows!?! But it was a lovely opportunity to catch a photo.

Not only did I really enjoy the shapes of the flowers in this bouquet (rounded flowers always appeal to me!), but I also enjoy the yellow flowers and yellow dress in the whimsical atmosphere created by the wallpaper in this room.

In the midst of the busyness of hosting, F&F members did take a few moments to gather and have a brief sit. I love how the outfits in this photo complement each other and the room! And I always appreciate good company and hearty laughter. This was a wonderful start to spring!

1830s Holiday Cheer

For the holidays last year, friends and I decided to have an 1830s-clothed dinner at a local historical inn. We had a lovely meal, enjoyed the company, and had fun looking around at all of the lovely seasonal decorations!

There were new vignettes around every corner, with everything from human-sized nutcrackers to animals and greenery. These owls, perched up on a rafter, amused me very much!

In another, more modern part of the building, we paused to take photos with a tree whose decorations matched my 1832 Velvet Gown and 12 Days Of Christmas bells & berries hair accessory. This dress is always fun to wear–lightweight, despite the velvet, and with a silhouette that is always entertaining.

I hope your holidays are full of joy, friendship, and gratitude!

1837 Blue Cotton Print Dress #1

I was on a bit of a 1830s tear back in 2020, when I made my 1834 yellow print dress followed up with a coordinating 1838 yellow print bodice and 1836 chemisette. But in fact there was even more than that, because I also made an 1835-1840 (let’s just call is 1837) blue cotton print dress for friend at the same time!

You can spot this dress in the photos from my 1830s Woods Walk blog post from 2021. The fabric for was a bargain at the the local discount fabric shop–only $3 per yard! It’s not technically a reproduction historical print, but the colors, motifs, and details (such as little dots for texture in the design) have the right look to me.

In terms of a pattern, I used my 1834 yellow print bodice as a starting point for this new blue dress, so the two bodices are very similar aside from size. The skirt of the blue dress is made in exactly the same way as the yellow dress (I blogged about that construction process in detail here).

The big different is the sleeves!

After trying a few silly sleeve shapes, we settled on giant elbow height puffs that are set off at the top and bottom with pleats and feature a bit of embroidery and corded bands to hold the pleats in place.

Here’s a view of the pleats and corded bands at the top of the sleeve. This dress has similar pleats.

And here are the pleats at the sleeve cuffs. These are held in place with a subtle bit of embroidery. This extant dress has a similar treatment, as does this one (and it has a matching pelerine!).

The sleeve puffs are supported by separate interior puffs that tie in. I used the method outlined in my 1830s Sleeve Puff Tutorial to make them.

In addition to the base dress, we decided to go all in on the 1830s aesthetic and create a matching fabric pelerine for this ensemble.

I looked at images of pelerines to determine what the shape and edges should be. We decided on a simple but flattering shape (as much as a matching fabric piece can be!) without extra difficulty in the form of scalloped or dagged edges, ruffles, etc. This is the finished shape we decided on.

Cording helps to define the edge and a similarly colored grey/blue cotton lining finishes off all of the raw edges. This was great, as the pelerine could be almost entirely made by machine!

On our woods walk, my usual photographer friend (who blogs at Plaid Petticoats) enjoyed taking a few photos with her Petzval camera lens, which creates the swirled background in the next two photos (you can read more about the Petzval lens in this Plaid Petticoats blog post). I can’t decide whether I like the color or black and white version better, so I’m including both!

So why is the title of this post include the #1? Well… because I enjoyed the effect of the fabric so much that I purchased additional yardage for myself and started making an additional dress for myself, too! What an excellent excuse to try out further 1830s sleeve variations!

Blue dress #2 has been cut out for quite awhile (a year, I think?). However, I’ve been busy and other things have been a priority, so the dress is 0% done in terms of being assembled. Someday…!

 

1838 Yellow Bodice Construction Details (HSM #4)

Last year, I made a yellow cotton print 1834 dress (there are tons of details about it in this past post). The yardage leftover after that project wasn’t enough for another full dress, but it was enough for another bodice, and I’d been caught up in 1830s fever!

There are so many ridiculous sleeves to explore! Accordingly, I decided to make a second 1830s bodice with different sleeves. I finished the new 1838 bodice earlier this year and over the summer I was able to wear it with my recently finished chemisette.

The 1834 dress was made in two parts, a skirt and separate bodice, so that it was easy to make a second bodice and save yardage on the skirt.

Construction Overview

First, the construction details of the new 1838 bodice, starting with the HSM facts, because this bodice fits Challenge #4:

The Costumer’s New Look: Give an old costume a new look, either by creating a new accessory or piece which expands or changes the aesthetic and use of an outfit, re-fashioning something into a costume item, or re-making an old costume.

Fabric/Materials:Approximately 2.5 yds reproduction print cotton and 1 yd of muslin.

Pattern: The pattern for this bodice is based on patterns contained in Janet Arnold’s Patterns of Fashion 1 and Norah Waugh’s The Cut of Women’s Clothes, as well as sleeve information fromThe Workwoman’s Guide.

Year: 1838.

Notions: 2 ½ yds narrow cotton yarn for cording, about 10 hooks and loops, and thread..

How historically accurate is it?: 90%. The pattern, construction methods, and fabric are all quite good. Inside seams are sewn by machine.

Hours to complete: 22.

First worn: August 2021.

Total cost: Approximately $15.

Construction Details

The back of this bodice is made just like the 1834 bodice, with piping in the side back seams. The armsceyes and neck are also finished with piping.

The main difference in the bodice (aside from the sleeves, which we’ll get to shortly) is the front, which has a deep V shape.

I looked at extant garments to see how this style was constructed. There are a collection of pertinent ones on my Pinterest board for this sewing project. The main inspiration for my observations was this garment, featured on All The Pretty Dresses blog (and included on my Pinterest board).

What I saw is that instead of being flatlined (as with the yellow and muslin layers of the back pieces), the lining was stitched separately from the gathered front panels. The muslin provides a fitted shape for the yellow exterior layer. There is a photo of the inside of the bodice of the extant bodice that shows this very clearly.

For my dress, the piping that finishes the back neck continues around the muslin to finish the edge. The yellow exterior pieces of the V edges (which are cut on the straight of grain) are simply pressed under twice.

Here is a closeup of the armhole of my bodice from the inside. The muslin front edge and exterior yellow layer are on the right of the photo. You can also see the ties that hold the sleeve puffs in place.

In addition to those details, the photo below also shows the hooks that are used to attach this bodice to the skirt.

Ok, but the sleeves are the star of the show here, so let’s discuss them! Being from 1838, they still use a lot of fabric (a yard each), but the fullness is pleated to force the puff down to the elbow level.

Here’s a closeup of the completed sleeve. The pleats are held in place by two bands of double piping that are hand sewn in place.
To make the double piping I machine sewed the cord into one side of my bias and hand sewed it into the other, then pressed the bias in half and attached it through all the layers. In my sample below I didn’t bother to put the machine stitching on the under side, but on the dress the machine stitching is not visible.

Before the piping was added, the pleats were machine basted in place. My machine basting wasn’t exactly where the piping ended up, so I removed the basting anywhere it showed.

Backing up some more in the process, below is one of the sleeves with the pleats pinned in place. I did this while the sleeves were flat, before I sewed up the inseams.

There’s no pattern for the pleats… it was just a matter of knowing what dimensions I wanted to end up with for my top edge and bicep and then eyeballing it. The pleats vary in depth on the inside, even though the outside is pretty even at ¼”. Part of this is due to the fact that the pleats have to angle in order to create an armsceye that keeps a curve up in the middle. Figuring it out is a great mind puzzle!

Below is the sleve before being pleated, etc. Between being over a yard high and also being cut on the bias you can see why each sleeve takes a yard of fabric!

After pleating and sewing the inseam the sleeves had this shape (below is my mockup sleeve). I really wanted an exaggerated elbow puff, so this isn’t quite the shape I wanted to end up with. To get the shape I wanted, I took horizontal tucks about halfway down the sleeve. This keeps the forearm relatively unwrinkled while creating lots of elbow puff. The tucks are lost in the pattern of the finished dress.

Could I have altered my pattern to not have to take tucks? Sure! I’d probably change the curve of the sleeve inseam to do that. But… I’d already cut my pieces. And adapting sleeve shapes to adjust for changes in styles seemed very appropriate and in the spirit of what 1830s ladies might have done.

So for a bit more sleeve information… These sleeves have an opening at the cuff to allow for the tight fit of the forearm. The openings are finished with self fabric facings and then the hem is turned up.

Here’s what that looks like on the inside.

And that’s it for construction!

Here’s a bonus photo of the dress with a quince tree. I’ve heard of quinces but never encountered them before.

They sort of look like pears!

I’m very pleased with this cross front bodice and the sleeves that go with them. I appreciate their minute detail even though they were definitely the most time consuming part of this bodice!

An 1836 Chemisette (HSM #3)

The third challenge for the Historical Sew Monthly 2021 is ‘small is beautiful’. Little things can make a big difference to the finished look.  Make something small but perfect. My entry for this challenge is an 1830s chemisette to fill in the neckline of my 1838 bodice (the sister of the 1834 dress I posted details about last year).

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Approximately ½ yd of silky cotton voile from Dharma Trading.

Pattern: Adapted from Janet Arnold’s Patterns of Fashion 1, with adjustments for fit and style.

Year: 1836.

Notions: 1 ½ yds ¼” white cotton twill tape, 1 metal hook, 1 cameo button and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 90%. The pattern, construction methods, and fabric are all quite good. It is entirely hand sewn. The most modern element is the plastic cameo button.

Hours to complete: 19 ¾.

First worn: August 2021.

Total cost: Approximately $5 for the fabric/shipping (though it is leftover from another project), $1 for the twill tape, and $1 for the button = approximately $7.

The chemisette pattern shape was based on this fashion plate from 1836.

Without a body in it, the chemisette looks like this. It is entirely hand sewn, with small rolled hems and drawstring channels on the bottom edges.

The shoulder seams are sewn with French seams to encase the raw edges. The collar is attached with a flat felled seam for the same reason.

The gathered ruffle on the edge is hemmed on all sides with a tiny rolled hem and then whip gathered to the hemmed collar edge. I haven’t tried whip gathers before and this seemed like it would be a fun project to try them out.

On the underside of the ruffle the whip stitches are more visible.

The inspiration fashion plate doesn’t show the back of the chemisette, so I had to decide on what I wanted. After looking at extant collars and chemisettes, I settled on a rounded point that extends just under halfway down the back.

On a body, it looks like this.

The final touch is a hook and thread loop to close the collar, with the decorative cameo button on top. The plastic is obviously not correct for the 1830s, but it does have the benefit of being lightweight! I was worried that if I used a metal brooch (not that I have one, but if I did…) it would pull the collar down or out.

And that’s it! There was no rushing with this project. I took my time and enjoyed the hours of tiny hems and whip stitching.