From Clamshell To Icicle Crown

November 30, 2025 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ Leave a comment

In October, The Footwork & Frolick Society hosted a fairytale themed late 19th century ball. I wanted to wear something fun from my historical wardrobe that I hadn’t worn in awhile and decided on my 1899 Elusive Blue dress. Once the outfit was decided on I had to figure out how that might fit the theme!

After a bit of thinking, I decided on a Snow Queen idea, inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s character and story. The idea of a light blue, white, and silver dress seemed like it could be adapted to fit my chosen outfit with minimal additions.

One of the essential accessories I wanted was an icicle crown! I’ve successfully made icicles using Worbla’s TranspArt product (a thermoplastic that can be heated, shaped, and then allowed to cool to become rigid), but I didn’t have any of this on hand. I wondered if I could use plastic grocery clamshells for a similar effect… and make use of my recycling in the process!

Spoiler: I was successful! But I don’t want to detract from Worbla’s products. They are much easier to use and more forgivable — easily flexing in all directions as well as easier to reshape and tweak. The clamshells only wanted to flex in a limited directions and were a bit fussy to tweak once I had the basic shapes made.

But this story is a transformation, from this:

To this:

Icicle Methods

Once I had this idea, I spent a month or so saving plastic produce clamshell packaging from my everyday groceries: stone fruit, tomatoes, grapes, etc. If they had too many labels or not many mostly flat spaces they didn’t make the cut. But even with these guidelines, I accumulated quite a number of packages I could use for this project.

I started by cutting rough rounded triangles out of the clamshells I collected. The first two I tried using an area that was all plastic and one that had a label on it, just to see how they would behave and what they would look like.

I started by heating the plastic with a hair dryer (outside, for ventilation, and on a sturdy scrap piece of plywood that wouldn’t melt). The hair dryer was not powerful enough to warp the plastic, so I next tried a heat gun. I used an oven mitt to protect the hand holding the plastic. I found that medium heat from the heat gun worked well! My first two samples are below.

The one with the label looked not like an icicle and didn’t really want to shape well, so I ruled out that idea. But the all plastic one actually worked pretty well! After asking what I was up to, Mr. Q was not impressed and thought that this idea would not work… But I carried on. I cut more rough triangles in a few different lengths and shaped them with my heat gun. The flat shape and twisted icicles are pictured below.

I decided I wanted five of them — a tall one in the center and slightly shorter ones to either side. I picked the best out of the 8 or so that I made and arranged them. That led me to go back and adjust a few to get better shapes. It was no problem to shape them with scissors or reheat them to change the shapes. I also softened the bottom of the chosen 5 icicles to flatten them out a bit to provide a way to have them stand up and attach to a base, as you can see below.

Crown Base

For a base of support, I pulled out my buckram scraps. I layered two of them and stitched them together around the edges. Then, I covered the buckram with scraps of two layers of silver fabric — a polyester satin and silver net. Below is a photo showing the underside of the buckram. My stitches are big, rough, and messy. They will be covered later.

The top of the crown base can be seen below. The silver fabric looks a bit like tinfoil. It was a bit shiny on its own, but made sense once the whole crown was complete.

Attaching The Icicles

Next, it was time to attach the icicles! I tried using the needle that I would normally use to sew, but it was a bit too weak to push through the plastic easily. I went to my needle stash and found a much larger (in length and diameter) sharp needle and used that to punch holes in the icicle bases that I could then easily sew through to secure the icicles to the crown base. This can be seen in the photo below.

Then, I sewed through the holes and the buckram base to secure the icicles in place. The underside of the crown is below. The grey thread I used isn’t really visible on the silver fabric covering.

You can see what the crown looks like from the top in the photo below. The stitches are completely hidden by the shine of the fabric and plastic.

The last step was to cover up all of my stitching with a nicely whipped backing of black felt. This not only makes the whole thing super tidy, but also provides some friction to help the crown stay in place on my hair. I added a few loops to the felt, as well, so that I would have something easy to bobby pin (and not have dark bobby pins showing on the silver fabric side). Below, a much tidier bottom of the crown!

I’m proud to say that Mr. Q said the finished product does, in fact, look like icicles despite his lack of confidence along the way about my clamshell idea! That sounds like a confidence problem on his part to me, amusingly, but nevertheless I’m pleased for the positive opinion!

Photos of the finished Snow Queen ensemble will be coming in a future post!

1797 Watermelon Sleeveless Bodice, Part II: Patterning & Construction

October 26, 2025 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ Leave a comment

This story begins in my previous post (which you can read here) in which I share the backstory and inspiration for this garment. I’ll be carrying on from where I left off. But first, a quick side story!

Mr. Q saw the title of this post and asked “What is a watermelon sleeve?” An excellent question, I think! I explained that watermelon is my description fpr the colors of the garment I’m discussing. But… I do rather wonder what a “watermelon” sleeve might look like…! After all, there are many historical sleeves with fun names (bishop, bell, pagoda, beret, gigot, and mameluke all come to mind quickly, though I can’t think of any that are named after fruit. If you can, let me know!).

Leaving that tangent behind… back to the story!

Patterning

The pattern started with the lining pattern for the dress that I knew fit and would be worn under the sleeveless bodice as well as the bodice of “A Robe c. 1795 – 1803” on pages 44 and 45 of the original printing of Janet Arnold’s Patterns of Fashion 2. I liked the idea of the pleats on the exterior to provide interest on my otherwise solid fabric. It didn’t occur to me until very late in the process of making this garment that most of the pleats would be covered by the neck trim. Oops! Oh well! Below, a photo of the front of the bodice. The pleats are the topstitched lines running downwards from the shoulders.

I ended up with separate patterns for the exterior and lining front pieces, but the side back and back pieces were cut from the same pattern. I’ll explain how I made them.

For the front lining piece, I started with the dress lining, as pictured below. By starting with this, I knew that the sleeveless bodice would easily fit over the dress and have similar seam lines.

I adjusted this pattern to have a little bit of wearing ease by adding ¼” to the bottom edge, ¼” to the neck edge, ½” across the center back piece, and ¼” across the side back pieces.

To that, I superimposed the PoF robe because it had a very low front bodice (clearly intended to be worn with a dress underneath) and it had a front pattern piece that curved downward towards the front, with a separate side front piece. Ah ha! I could create a dart going towards the waist in the area between these two pieces and have a one piece lining while also easily having a two piece exterior to make the pleats easier! This would reduce bulk in the finished garment and allow for the necklines of the exterior and lining to be exactly the same.

The photo below shows the front pieces I ended up with. On the left is the lower part of the front lining (the shoulder area is extended with a separate shoulder piece in the lining) and the center front part of the lining. For the lining, these were cut as one piece (with the dart marked).

If you look carefully, you might notice that the grainline on the center front piece is off relative to the side piece. Why is that, you might wonder?

Well, for the front exterior I started with the lining piece but changed the single dart to be the pleats I’ve previously mentioned. I didn’t see bust darts in my inspiration fashion plate or observations of 1790s overdresses, but in 18th century dresses pleats are used used in varying depths to adjust a flat piece of fabric to fit the curves of a body, so I used that method.

First, I traced the lining pattern onto a new piece of paper, including the dart. Then, as you can see in the photo below, I cut along the dart edge closer to Center Front, then up a line that continued to the neck edge I wanted. (I also cut down to the bust point from two other points along the neckline, but later realized I didn’t need those cuts.)

Next, as you can see in the photo below, I rotated the center front piece down towards the dart, making that area a little narrower and creating space (essentially another dart) going up towards the shoulder. Then I drew my new grainline on the front piece for the exterior, heading up towards the shoulder. This is why it looks off relative to center front. When worn, those ‘darts’ are closed when the exterior is fitted over the lining and center front is pulled into its proper place on the body.

These exterior darts — hidden in the seam line — are what creates that downward curve to the pattern pieces that I observed in PoF.

The two ‘darts’ are taken up in the pleated side front piece of the exterior, which is fitted over the center front piece and the darted bodice lining. In the photo below, the dart in the lining is visible on the left and the silk is pleated to fit and visible on the right.

After creating the paper pattern, I made a mockup and did a fitting to see how well my adjustments worked. They were pretty good, but I did have a few notes — I extended the bottom edge by a little more across the front, set the overlap shape I wanted (based on the fashion plate), set my armhole seam allowance, decided on the height of the peplum, and adjusted the front neckline to sit nicely over the dress.

I made these adjustments to my paper pattern and then moved on to cutting out my pieces in real fabric:

A proper left front lining
A proper right front lining
Proper left side front and center front exteriors
Proper right side front and center front exteriors
Straps in lining fabric
Side back pieces for lining and exterior
Center back pieces for lining and exterior

The Backstory: Construction

With a pattern established, I went down the rabbit hole of figuring out construction methods.

I had been reading Patterns of Fashion 6: The Content, Cut, Construction & Content of European Women’s Dress c. 1695-1795 and my mind was full of details and excitement about 18th century construction methods, so I happily went down a path of sewing in an 18th century manner! But… at some point in the middle of things I realized that I would need to combine some early 19th century construction methods into what I was doing, too, since my sleeveless bodice idea does span two different eras of construction styles.

For example, from an 18th century perspective turning seam allowances of the lining and exterior towards each other and whipping the pieces together made perfect sense. From a 19th century perspective, however, finishing the armholes with this method seemed odd (usually in the 18th century the seam allowance would have been left raw on the inside when the sleeve was attached, but I wasn’t adding sleeves!) and inserting a peplum into the bottom edge seemed odd, too (often a ruffle was applied on top of an edge, rather than being sandwiched between the exterior and lining, but that wasn’t the look I wanted). After many brain somersaults, I wound up mashing these two methods of construction together to create a transitional garment (which does actually make sense, since this was a transitional period for construction methods!).

Actually Making The Spencer

I thought it would be fun to use up linen scraps for the lining, rather than cutting into yardage from my stash. The lining pieces weren’t that big, right? Well, it turns out they were bigger than I thought. I ended up using 3 or 4 different types of white linen and adding in a fair number of piecing seams to get the shapes I needed for these lining pieces (you can see some extra seams in the lining in the previous photos). It definitely added time, but I had time while making this garment, so it was fine.

Once the lining pieces were ready to go I could cut the silk layers. The side front of the silk exterior had the shoulder straps included and was extra wide in order to create those all-important pleats. Below is a photo of what the pleats looked like before they were topstitched flat. They are not quite all the same depth and slowly spread out as they move towards the shoulder seam in the back (at the top of the photo).

Here is a summary of the 18th century elements I used in the construction of this garment: much piecing of the lining fabrics, whipping the lining pieces together along the seams, whipping the lining into the exterior around the edges, topstitched pleats in the front exterior for shaping over the bust, a shoulder seam that is topstitched onto the back piece, many edges bound in narrow strips of silk, and the neckline trim being tucked to shape around the neckline curve.

Here is a summary of the 19th century elements I used in the construction of this garment: gathering the peplum and sewing it to the bodice with right sides together then whipping the lining seam allowance on top and turning in the seam allowance of the armholes and whipping the lining into place.

In the photo below, most of those methods have been employed to get the bodice to this state, which is basically finished aside from the peplum, neck trim, and closures.

The neck trim is a pieced strip of the green silk bound in running stitched ¼” wide strips of pink silk (hence the watermelon name!). The assembled band was running stitched along the outer edge and then eased into place around the neck edge. Below is the easing in progress. It took many pins!

And here is a closeup. You can see some of the whip stitched piecing seams in the lining and the minute easing of the neckline edge of the trim.

And that was it…! Entirely hand sewn, with many small details, lots of justifying and research, and, in the end, a relatively small garment! Next time, photos of the finished garment being worn!

A Mysterious Domino, Part II: Making & Wearing

July 27, 2025 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ Leave a comment

This is a continuation of my last post, which shared the background of why I created this black domino cape as well as research about what a domino is and its history.

Making My Mysterious Domino

Having decided on an idea, and probably conducted more research into its history than was strictly necessary for this purpose, I proceeded to figure out how to bring my idea to life. I had the additional goal of not wanting to spend money and therefore restricted my domino-endeavors to the stash.

I started by looking through my stash binder (I posted about my stash organization in this past post) to see what fabrics I had on hand that might be able to be made into a quick and easy domino. I came up with just one — a gifted-to-me three yard piece of a black synthetic sheer, with alternating satin and sheer narrow stripes and a bit of metallic thread woven in between each stripe. I liked the drape of the fabric, as I thought it would move nicely while dancing, and I liked that while being black, it was also interesting and had more to look at than a plain solid. Three yards was plenty of fabric to allow for a large hood and plenty of length!

I think this fabric might be fun to use for something else someday, so I was loathe to actually cut it to make a domino cape. From past experience (and my patterning books), I was aware of the general shape and construction of the hoods of 18th century capes, which I was more excited by than the shape of the main body portion of capes from this period. The hoods often have quite a bit of fabric pleated into a central spot on the back of the hood and the bases are often pleated into the neck area, as well.

I started experimenting with my fabric and safety pinned a central pleated area in the center of my three yard piece. Then, I safety pinned a center back seam in the two ends of the piece, which hung down below the ‘hood.’ The next step was to safety pin a row of large pleats around what would be the ‘neck’ area, to draw in the width of the fabric around the shoulders. And… I basically had a cape!

A bit rough and ready, but my safety pinning did create a cape with a hood!

I fiddled a bit, by turning under some of the depth of the hood (and pinning it back near the central pleats) as well as pinning up swags at the front shoulder areas. I agreed with Erté (in the quote in my previous post)– that my domino should have a distinguished cut to keep me from looking like a shapeless bundle!

At that point, I realized that most of my pinned areas really didn’t need to be sewn… I could just leave in the safety pins, making it much faster to take apart if I wanted to do that someday! In the end, the only two things I sewed were the center back seam (with basting stitches by hand) and the hem (again, with basting stitches by hand). Calling it a ‘hem’ is generous, I think! I really just turned it up once with the raw edge left visible.

Wearing My Mysterious Domino

My historically plausible, mysterious looking domino cape was ready to go. I was all prepared for The Footwork and Frolick Society’s early 19th century themed Masquerade Ball!

I chose to pin the cape to my dress rather than having it closed at my neck. It made the hood pretty long in the back, but it kept the cape from pulling backwards and feeling claustrophobic, while also opening up the front view and not covering my entire dress.

And, since I felt like black mask, dark hair, and black hood was all a bit much around my face, I put my hair up around a huge bun form to raise the hood and added white flowers in front to add some contrast and a relief for the eyes.

Paired with white, gold, and pearl accessories, I created a fun new variation on an old dress!

Finishing My Grandmother’s Quilted Wall Hangings

April 21, 2025 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ Leave a comment

My grandmother Betty was an avid quilter. She was well supported by my grandfather, who greatly enjoyed road trips and would happily stop at all the fabric stores along the way to collect interesting fabrics. Betty was always on the hunt for solid fabrics in unusual colors as well as eye-catching prints that were different than anything else she already had in her stash.

Betty was, in fact, the person who taught me how to sew, to hand quilt, and to cross stitch when I was quite young. Not only was she passing her passion along to me, but I think she was also trying to keep me occupied on those long road trips…

After Betty passed away, my grandfather (on another road trip) brought me all of her fabrics, her quilting books, some partially cut projects, and even her notebook of notes on her quilting projects. It was boxes and boxes of things! Amongst those many boxes, I found these three square quilted panels.

They were clearly intended for some purpose and had been mostly completed in terms of the piecing and quilting, but they lacked backings and/or bindings.

I pulled them out about 7 years ago and thought “it might be nice to finish these and hang them in my sewing room” in recognition of Betty. Fast forward those 7 years and the quilted panels were still in that unfinished state. But last summer I put it on my to-do list to go through the fabrics I inherited and find backing and binding fabrics, so that when I had time I would at least be ready to think about finishing the panels.

I took an inventory of the panels in their inherited state:

The red was basically done and just in need of binding. (The quilting had been done along with the appliqué hearts.)
The green was also basically done and only in need of binding. (The quilting had been completed in a leafy motif.)
The star was all pieced, but not quilted onto a backing yet. Also, before coming to me, it had gained age stains on the ivory backing, which isn’t ideal. I didn’t want to unpick all of the edges… (I don’t find it to be fun and I wanted to keep my grandmother’s sewing intact) so my plan was to use the ivory to make a border around the star and re-appliqué it onto a blue patterned background. I felt this would tie it in with the other two pieces and help the three panels feel like an intentional set. Then the star also needed to be quilted to a backing and bound.

Below, photos of the backs of the panels before I started working on them.

I went through all of the green and blue (and ivory, but that’s not the most exciting!) quilting fabric I had inherited to pick out suitable backing and binding options for each panel. Below are just a sample of the many solids and prints I had to choose from!

I chose a dark green binding for the red panel, a lighter green binding for the green panel, and a blue small print for the new background for the star, as well as ivory binding and backing.

And here is an individual photo of each completed panel, front and back.

I used a mixture of beautiful shades of green and blue (and ivory) thread to match the different colors use for the bindings and quilting.

It was fun figuring out what pattern I wanted to use to quilt the star, so that it would have dimension and seem in keeping with the other panels. I’m pleased with the pattern that is visible on the back!

Each panel also has a channel sewn along the top edge on the back, so that I can easily hang them on the wall. I puzzled about the best way to do this. I wanted a dowel of some sort to run through the channel to keep the panels from sagging. And I wanted to be able to balance the dowel on something that would be easy to put up and not put holes in my wall. I settled on Command hooks, and found very small ones that would fit a wooden skewer. It turns out that the panels don’t weigh much and I had skewers around the house… plus they were easy to cut to just the right length!

Now I have a lovely tribute to grandmother Betty hanging above my sewing machine!

A Story Of Two Tuckers (HSM #6)

February 18, 2025June 7, 2025 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ 4 Comments

One of my goals for the second wearing of my Versailles sacque was to finish a small detail that didn’t make it into the first wearing back in 2016 (you can read about that exciting adventure in this past post). Below is a photo from that first exciting wearing of the dress. My new goal: to fill in the neckline of the dress with a bit of lace known as a ‘tucker’.

In addition, I also wanted to have a second tucker to complete the neckline of the new Yellow Sacque that I was working on.

Accordingly, over the summer of 2024 I dug around in my stash to find a suitable lace to use for these simple accessories. I came up with a 1 ⅞” wide lace that I’d purchased a roll of 100 yards of from Debs Lace and Trims. (I’ve purchased quite a quantity of lace from this shop over the last 15 years and have great things to say about it. I’ve never found better prices, which is excellent for historical projects that need large quantities of lace. I say that with no ulterior motives. I’m not affiliated with the store in any way!)

I followed the instructions on page 122 in The American Duchess Guide To 18th Century Dressmaking by Lauren Stowell and Abby Cox to make these two tuckers. They are exactly the same except that one is slightly longer (by 3″) than the other.

The ends of the lace are neatly hemmed, as you can see below.

And the lace is whipped to a 1/4″ cotton twill tape, as you can see in the photo above as well as the one below.

And that’s it! This is my entry for the Historical Sew Monthly 2025 Challenge #6 Accessorize:

Accessories add polish to your outfits, helping to create the perfect historical look. Create the perfect period accessory for yourself.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Approximately 2 yards of 1 ⅞” wide lace (for each tucker).

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

Year: c. 1770.

Notions: Approximately 1 ¼ yards of 1/4″ white cotton twill tape (for each tucker) and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 90%. Entirely hand sewn, made from plausible looking materials, and using a pattern that is backed up by lots of research. I just give a little off for the fiber content of the lace and the use of ¼” cotton tape rather than ½” linen tape.

Hours to complete: About 1 hour per tucker.

First worn: October 5, 2024.

Total cost: Approximately $3, for both tuckers! The lace was just $0.10 per yard and the twill tape was also purchased in bulk — I probably only used about $1 or $2 worth.

A Stomacher For The Yellow Sacque (HSM #12)

February 3, 2025 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ 3 Comments

One of the many parts of the new c. 1770 Yellow Sacque ensemble that I’ve been slowly posting about is the stomacher. This is the triangular shaped piece that fills in the front of the dress, covering the undergarments worn underneath.

18th century stomachers come in a variety of shapes and styles. Some are more pointy and triangular, some are more wide and rounded. Some match the dress exactly and others contrast with the dress fabric.

The stomacher that goes with my Versailles sacque (which you can read about in the past post discussing the construction details for that dress) is more of the wide, rounded, and matching-the-dress variety. So for this new dress I decided to go in the opposite direction and make a stomacher that is more pointy, triangular, and made of contrasting fabric.

I was particularly inspired by the dress and stomacher combination below, which is in the collection of the LA County Museum of Art. I love that the gold embroidery on the stomacher is completely different than the trim on the dress and that is completed on an ivory colored base that is also completely different than the dress fabric itself.

Woman’s Dress and Petticoat (Robe à la française). England, circa 1760. Silk plain weave with weft-float patterning and silk with metallic-thread supplementary-weft patterning, and metallic lace. Gift of Mrs. Henry Salvatori (M.79.118a-b).

With that idea in mind, it was time to figure out how to achieve that look! I dabbled in embroidery in 2020, but definitely not enough to feel up to the elaborate style and cost of materials to achieve this look from scratch. I did have a fabric in my stash, however, that has lovely gold embroidered motifs on a bronze net background. I’ve cut out the motifs and used them before with fantastic results, so I figured I could do that again for this purpose. (The full net fabric was used in my 1912 Burgundy and Gold Evening Gown made in 2012 and the motifs were used as appliqués in my 1893 Bronze and Pink Evening Gown in 2012, as well.)

For this project, some of the helpful motifs from the lace were along the edges of the fabric. Others were in the middle. The motifs were not always symmetrical, so in many cases I had to piece them together to make them look reasonable for this purpose — especially in the central budding/dripping areas of the stomacher. I used approximately 30 individual sequin/embroidered bits, some as small as a single leaf!

Below is a photo of the stomacher with all of the individual gold bits pinned in place.

After that, all I had to do was use an appliqué stitch to attach them around each edge! I like that sort of work (it’s the same process I used for my 1940 Schiaparelli Evening Dress last year). It’s not hard, but just takes patience. The most patience is needed when the thread gets caught on a pin!

Below is the completed stomacher.

It really sparkles in the light, as the gold embroidery also has gold sequins on it. That lovely sparkly element was hard to capture in a photo. I did try! Below is a view that shows the sequins a little bit better.

I know that spangles (flat metal discs) were in use long before the 18th century. So while my sequined modern lace appliqués may not be perfect on a historical-reproduction scale, I do think it’s reasonable to think that something similar would have been used in the 18th century to help reflect light in the halls of Versailles or other palaces of the period.

In addition to the gold bits, I also had scraps of ivory silk shantung in the stash leftover from making my fluffy 1903 petticoat back in 2011. I used one of these scraps for the visible ivory section of the stomacher. The back of the stomacher is made of a scrap of unbleached cotton canvas, also from the stash (this is not historically correct, but it did the job of stiffening the stomacher very well!). A photo showing these fabrics up close is below.

The canvas and silk layers were bagged out, the opening edge whipped closed, and then the appliqué stitches applied only through the silk. The cotton canvas provides stability for stiffening the stomacher as well as pinning into the dress.

This stomacher qualifies for the Historical Sew Monthly Challenge #12 The Final Touch:

Make an accessory or garment that is the finishing touch to an outfit.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Scrap of ivory silk, scrap of natural canvas, and embroidered/sequin bits from approximately ½ yard of gold lace.

Pattern: The base was adapted from the JP Ryan Pet-en-l’air pattern.

Year: c. 1770

Notions: Thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 90%. Entirely hand sewn. The construction methods are historically plausible, though I believe this would have been embroidered in the 18th century rather than appliquéd. The fiber content and weave of the base fabrics are not accurate.

Hours to complete: I didn’t keep track. Let’s say 6.

First worn: October 5, 2024.

Total cost: I’m going to call the scraps free. My guess is that I spent about $10 per yard on the lace over ten years ago. So let’s say approximately $5.

Engageants For The New Yellow Sacque (HSM #6)

November 30, 2024 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ 2 Comments

I’m trying to get in all of my Historical Sew Monthly 2024 posts before the new year! So in that spirit, here is another one!

Above is a closeup of the fluff that makes up the arm openings of the new yellow sacque I mentioned in my last post (where I shared details about the petticoat for the new sacque) as well as my Versailles dress from 2016. Part of the fluff is the sleeve ruffles on the dresses and part of the fluff is the engageants — lace for the Versailles dress and a double layer of ivory silk for the new yellow sacque!

Engageants are sleeve ruffles. The Oxford English Dictionary traces the word back to the 16th century with its origins in French.

These new engageants are made of two layers of silk gauze, inspired by the ones displayed with the lovely yellow dress below by the Royal Ontario Museum.

Robe à la française Spitalfields (London), England. Silk extended tabby (gros de Tours) with liseré self-patterning and brocading in silver lamella and filé Georgian Rococo. 1750s. Gift of the Fashion Group Inc. of Toronto in memory of Gwen Cowley. ROM2009_10909_22.

I specifically wanted the semi-sheer quality as a change from the lace engageants that accompany my Versailles sacque (which you can read about in this past post detailing construction information about that dress).

I looked through my stash and realized that the best fabric I had for this project was salvaged from an old ballroom dancing dress I’d made. Here is a blast from the past for you! The elusive Mr. Q is even hiding there, behind my head… But back to the dress. It was made pre-blog, so no photos of it have made it here before.

I was so proud of it! But after a fair bit of wearing this dress, I moved on to creating new ballroom dresses and sacrificed this one for parts. The rhinestoned lace was re-used in a dress that did make it onto the blog in 2013 (documented in this past post), but the float — that dangling piece hanging from my wrist that floats in the breeze while dancing — was simply put into my fabric stash, which is where I found it when looking for engageant material!

The float was an odd triangular piece, so I had to do some piecing (adding center seams, for example) to make my engageant pieces fit. But that’s fine! In all the fluff you can’t see the seams.

And in fact, the pattern I used, from 1769, was intended to create zero fabric waste, which intentionally added seams, as well. The scalloped pieces are stacked together with the scallops facing each other to efficiently use a single rectangle of fabric.

Completed engageants are below. The seams are not obvious!

Every individual silk piece for these was narrow hemmed on all the edges and then the seams were butted, whipped, laid flat, and pressed. Below is a close up of a seam and a scalloped bottom edge.

Once all of that was done, the two layers were laid on top of each other and whip gathered along the top edge. This was then sewn to a ¼” cotton tape. This allows for the engageants to be removed to be cleaned or used with another dress someday.

And that’s it! These qualify for the Historical Sew Monthly Challenge #6 Up Your Sleeve:

Level up your sleeve game by making a garment where the focus is on the sleeves.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Approximately ½ yard of ivory silk gauze.

Pattern: From page 14 in Patterns of Fashion 6 (written by Janet Arnold, Sébastien Passot, Claire Thornton, & Jenny Tiramani).

Year: 1769.

Notions: Approximately ⅔ yard of ¼” white cotton twill tape and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 95%. Entirely hand sewn. The construction methods are historically sound. The fiber content and weave may not be perfect.

Hours to complete: 8 ¾.

First worn: October 5, 2024.

Total cost: I have no recollection of what I paid for the silk gauze many years ago. Plus, at this point this fabric is being re-used, so might be called free regardless. The twill tape was bought in bulk and cost less than $1 per yard. So let’s say approximately $5.

Yellow Sacque Petticoat (HSM #12)

November 10, 2024 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ 2 Comments

Over the last year or so I’ve been working on another new ensemble: a second 1770s sacque dress (also called a Robe à la Française or sack-back gown) to be friends with my original Versailles dress (which you can read all about in this past series of posts). My goal was to have a new dress that I could loan to two different friends so that they could join me in 18th century splendor. Luckily, the two friends I have in mind are not too different in circumferences!

The new ensemble has many individual garments — under petticoat, over petticoat, the sacque itself, a tucker, and sleeves flounces (or engageantes) — so there will be a number of posts coming up that share details about these various pieces. This post is going to focus on the over petticoat that I made for this ensemble.

The petticoat front is made up of the yellow jacquard fabric that the dress itself is made out of, while the sides and back are made of a cream colored cotton. No need to use expensive fabric where it is unlikely to be seen! This was a common 18th century practice. Above is an image of the front of the petticoat. Below is an image of the back of the petticoat.

There are three fabric panels — two of the cotton and one of the silk. These are seamed together and then divided in half, such that some of the cotton falls on the ‘front’ of the petticoat (since it makes up ⅔ of the circumference of the skirt). There are slits cut into the sides at the halfway points. These are narrowly hemmed by hand.

Below is a closeup of the top the petticoat, which shows the pocket slit on the right side.

The front and back are pleated in the same way, though with differing quantity and depth of pleats. They have an outward box pleat at the center and additional deep knife pleats towards the sides. The pleats are held in place by front and back waistbands that are finished at ½”. Below, you can see the inside of the front and inside of the back, showing the knife pleats and waistbands.

And here is one more interior closeup of the waistband. You can see that it was sewn on by machine and then flipped to the inside and whip stitched in place. You can also see the ribbon tie on the right as well as a little bit of the pocket opening.

Set inside of the waistbands are long ties (in this case, made of ivory polyester ribbon because it was on hand). The back ties are long enough to tie around the front of the body. Then the front ties warp around the back and are long enough to tie in front. (You can see how this works in this past post about the petticoat I wear under my Versailles sacque.)

The bottom of the skirt has a ½” hand sewn whip stitched hem, which you can see in the image below. It is leveled to sit over 1770s panniers (which you can read about in this past post).

And that’s basically it! This petticoat qualifies for the Historical Sew Monthly Challenge #12 That’s A Wrap:

Make an accessory or garment that is worn by wrapping it around the body.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Approximately 1.25 yards of yellow jacquard silk and 2 yards of cream cotton.

Pattern: I referenced my first petticoat, which referenced Katherine’s 18th Century Petticoat Tutorial and The Standard 18th Century Petticoat Tutorial at A Fashionable Frolick. The nice thing about Katherine’s tutorial is that it’s adjusted for a petticoat to go over pocket hoops, while the great thing about the tutorial at A Fashionable Frolick is that it has tons of detailed construction information like which stitches to use. Both tutorials are clear and very helpful.

Year: c. 1775.

Notions: Approximately 3 yards of ¼” ivory polyester ribbon and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 90%. All of the visible bits are hand sewn. The construction methods are accurate, though cotton is not the most likely fiber content as it was expensive in the 18th century.

Hours to complete: I didn’t keep track (a nice change from some of my projects). My guess is about 5 hours for machine sewing non-visible areas and hand finishing.

First worn: October 5, 2024.

Total cost: Approximately $30 (the cotton was $4/yard, the silk was $17/yard, and the ribbon was free).

1794 Windowpane Ruffle Dress (HSM #10)

October 27, 2024 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ 6 Comments

At this point, I’ve posted about most of the garments and accessories needed for the 1790s ensemble I’ve been slowly creating (you can read past posts here: stays, cap, sash, as well as petticoat and bum pad). The final piece (and perhaps one of the most essential pieces) is the dress!

I started this in 2023, along with most of the accessories, and finally finished in May 2024. My goal for this post is to document the inspiration and construction details of the dress (photos of the dress being worn will come later!).

Basic Information

To start, the information for the Historical Sew Monthly 2024 Challenge #10 UFO Spotter:

We all have an UnFinished Object or two (or ten!) Now’s the time to complete one of your unfinished historical costuming projects.

This dress was definitely a UFO! It’s been hanging in my sewing room for many months in a state of partial completion.

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: 3 ½ yards of 120″ wide ivory windowpane woven curtain sheer (probably polyester) and 1 yard of 58″ wide lightweight white linen for the lining.

Pattern: Adapted from the 1790s Round Gown pattern in The American Duchess Guide To 18th Century Dressmaking by Lauren Stowell and Abby Cox. I changed the front bodice to suit my goals and style as well as adding ruffles to the sleeves and hem.

Year: c. 1794.

Notions: 2 ½ yards of ¼” white cotton twill tape, 4 hooks and loops, and thread.

How historically accurate is it?: 95%. The pattern and construction methods are well researched and documented. The only points off, I’d say, are for the fiber content of the main dress fabric.

Hours to complete: 13.5 for the main dress construction + 11.5 for the ruffles = 26 hours of hand sewing.

First worn: Not yet!

Total cost: I paid approximately $10/yard for the main fabric and $6/yard for the linen. So, with the addition of the notions I would say this dress cost about $50 for materials.

A Few Observations

As with the 1790s petticoat I made (linked above in the introduction to this post) this dress is entirely hand sewn.

I had to go back through my records to figure out what I spent on the fabric for the dress. It’s been in my stash for years, so while I remember what store I purchased it from I had no memory of how much I paid. It turns out that I bought both the windowpane exterior fabric and the linen lining in 2012! At the time, I had no particular plan in mind for them, so they sat and waited… for over ten years! I’m excited to have finally put them to good use!

Inspiration

I’ve been interested in trying various garments and accessories in the American Duchess book since I first purchased it, and this 1790s idea felt like a good opportunity, especially since I could work from the undergarments out with the patterns and instructions all in one place.

The basic elements of the 1790s dress in the book worked for me, but I decided I wanted a different front bodice look, more like the gown on the right in the image below (rather than like the one on the left, which is more like what the sample in the book is shaped like). The painting below, La duquesa de Osuna como Dama de la Orden de Damas Nobles de la Reina María Luisa, by Augustín Esteve is dated between 1796 and 1797 (it is available on Wikimedia Commons). That’s a few years later than my date of 1794, but the gathered front and round neck shape is seen earlier, even in the 1780s in Chemise a la Reine styles (you can read more about this style, popularized by Marie Antoinette, here on the Fashion Institute of Technology: Fashion History Timeline page). There is another example of the front shape I was intrigued by in the Cora Ginsburg auction catalog from Spring 2023 on page 12.

In addition to the bodice shape, I was particularly inspired by the fashion plate below for the ruffles at the hem and wrists. Other fashion plates from this year show the same detail. The plate below, and more from 1794, can be seen on the Dames a la Mode website here.

I gathered my favorite inspiration, including those shown above, together on a Pinterest board, which you can see here if you are interested.

Construction

I mostly followed the directions in the American Duchess book, though I did have to adapt a few order of operations things in the bodice to accommodate my change in front style, as well as to accommodate adding the ruffles to the sleeve openings.

I started by assembling the bodice lining. Below is my bodice lining, ready for the exterior pieces to be added.

I didn’t take any further in-process photos, but I did document the completed garment. First, an image of what the front looks like when the front closure is done up. The exterior of the dress adjusts at the high waistline and the neckline with drawstrings.

Then, below, is the dress with the front exterior opened up. Historically speaking, the lining would likely have been pinned in place, but I decided hooks would be simpler for me (and still adjustable with a little bit of sewing) and so my lining closes with 4 hooks and loops. The front skirt slit opening is lost in the gathers once the exterior of the dress is closed.

The next photo shows the back of the bodice, which curves up a little at center back in a very 1790s way, as well as the very full skirt that is attached across the back using cartridge pleats, creating a lovely series of folds.

And here is a view of the entire back of the dress.

The final touch was to hem and then add all of the ruffles! I brought the basic rectangle shapes with me on trips and quietly introverted while hemming miles of edges. Eventually, they were all hemmed and connected. Then… I went back along one long edge on each ruffle section and ran whip gathers. Then, finally, I butted the edges to the sleeve hems and bottom edge of the skirt and whipped the ruffles into place.

Below is a closeup of the hem ruffle, where the narrow hem of the ruffle and the butted edges are both clearly visible.

And here is a closeup of the sleeve opening, which again shows the narrow hems on the ruffle and butted edges of the ruffle and sleeve.

I did have one strange decision to make regarding the depth of them hem on the dress itself. It might not have struck you as odd that the hem is so deep (about 6″), but it does look slightly strange to me when I look at photos of the dress laid out, or when I see it without the petticoat underneath.

The reason for the unusually (for this period) deep hem is that my petticoat somehow ended up being a bit short, even with a narrow hem. I didn’t want to have the nice, smooth white expanse of this skirt broken by a section at the hem that wasn’t backed by a petticoat before the dense white of the ruffle. And I had lots of length in my dress exterior to play with.

I considered tucks to take up the length and provide opacity, but it looked ridiculous in this fabric and for this particular decade. Instead, I settled on this wide hem which is set at a height that makes the ruffle just brush the tops of my feet. The top edge of the deep hem just blends in when the petticoat is under the dress. Here is a view of the hem. Each of the squares is about ½”.

And that’s it! The dress is finally done! I’m super pleased that this UFO garment and the accessories to complete an ensemble are finished and that I have a whole new decade of clothing ready to wear.

Now, I’ve moved on to other sewing projects and trying to figure out how to use (mostly) my real hair to create a 1790s look so that I can get photos of the whole 1790s ensemble. More on that once I figure it out and get photos. In the meantime, thanks for reading this far and sticking with me through all of these minute details!

1790s Petticoat & Bum Pad (HSM #8)

October 10, 2024 ~ TheQuintessentialClothesPen ~ 2 Comments

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.