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!’

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!)

Proof Of A Regency Picnic

Historically clothed events continue to be somewhat sparse on my calendar, but I have photographic evidence of having gathered with friends last summer to partake in a Regency themed picnic. We were rained out of the original date and the alternate date was very hot, so we decided to mostly stay indoors. But we did go outside for a few fun documentation-of-our-gathering photos.

Did I mention it was hot? I was kind of melting. But I did really enjoy getting my 1815 Tree Gown out of the closet and giving it a wear. This continues to be one of my favorite early 19th century dresses! I still love the patterning, which creates a comfortable and elegantly shaped dress, as well as the lightweight block print cotton fabric. At least I had a cool fabric to wear in the heat!

Made in 2013, this dress has held up to 11 years of wear very well; however, I did notice that the forearms are very tight these days… so tight that they don’t let the armsceye seams sit where they should, causing the shoulders to constantly be pulling down my arm! And sadly, even with the 1/4″ French seams I originally made, they don’t have enough circumference to be let out.

On the bright side, though, I keep everything and I have scraps of this fabric in my stash. So for now, the forearms have been seam ripped and the dress is, metaphorically in the pile of things-that-need-alterations, awaiting my action of actually digging out the fabric scraps so that I can adjust the fit (it’s metaphorical because it’s actually hanging in the closet not in a pile!). This will assuredly become a When-The-Dress-No-Longer-Fits post… someday!

When The Dress No Longer Fits (1893 Evening Gown)

Way back in 2012, I made a Bronze and Pink 1893 evening gown. The original construction information can be found in the original post. I updated it in 2013 (documented in this past post) and continued to wear it for a number of years. Then my shape changed, and in 2016 I made my 1899 Elusive Blue dress, which was a fun new thing to wear from a similar period.

And so, my 1893 dress languished in the closet. For an event last year, however, I decided to pull it out instead of wearing the Elusive Blue dress. Below, successful re-wearing of my now-eleven-year-old 1893 dress.

After initially trying the dress on, it was clear that my change in shape meant that the original dress would no longer fit, but I decided to persevere and update the dress to make it wearable again. This involved:

  • Adding a panel to the back to extend the circumference of the bodice (saving fabric extras pays off!)
  • Adjusting the circumference of the pink sash to match the new width in the bodice

The skirt closure didn’t need an adjustment, as I had originally made it with two sets of hooks and bars and was able to simply hook the closure on the looser bar for the updated wearing

Below, a photo of the updated dress from the back, where the additional back panel is visible.

While the dress was wearable and I was pleased with my updated accessories, I was not as pleased with the dress as I was when I first made it, nor was I as happy with it as I am with my 1899 dress. I’d like to update it a bit more some day and see if it brings me more joy for a future wearing. Specifically:

  • I’d like to add net and gold sequin trim to the back neckline to help add interest and distract from the added panel (the original in Patterns of Fashion is unadorned and makes an elegant V, as mine originally did, but I like the plain look less with the size adjustment)
  • The tall section of canvas I’d added to them hem of the skirt when I originally made the dress made sense at the time to add stiffness, but over the years I’ve realized that it’s also heavy and actually reduces the size of the silhouette. I think I’d like to remove the canvas (or drastically reduce its height)
  • I’d want to wear my chemise tucked lower! I’m sad that it’s poking out in the photos

Despite some quibbles, I am pleased overall with the fact that I was able to update this dress to make it fit again.

When The Dress No Longer Fits (Mid-20th Century Edition, Part II)

…turn it into a skirt! That’s the take-away from today’s When The Dress No Longer Fits project.

This skirt started life in 2014 as a dress inspired by a 1940s Anne Adams sewing pattern. I don’t actually have the pattern, but I was inspired enough to try patterning my own version based on the pattern envelope image. You can read all about the creation of the dress in this past post.

Since this photo was taken my shape has changed, making the dress a garment that could no longer be worn.

I’ve also never worn this dress all that much. It’s easy to draw a seam along the bust, but hard to pattern it so that the stripes are straight and it actually follows a curved body comfortably. It was ok, but not the most comfortable dress I’ve ever made. And it was a lot of purple.

I have limited fabric leftovers from this dress–certainly not enough to make a whole new front bodice, which is what would be necessary– and not being completely sold on the idea of the dress as a whole, I decided to turn it into a skirt! This eliminated the bodice problem and instantly cut down on the quantity of purple in one seam-ripping swoop.

I started by removing the bodice and taking out the zipper where it crossed the waistband, as well as down into the skirt just past the seam that connects the waistband to the top of the skirt, as you can see below.

My waist is larger now than it was when I made the dress, but I was saved by the fact that the waist of the skirt had been a few inches too big when I originally made the dress. Whew!

At the time I made the dress, I’d solved the problem of the skirt being too big by adding tucks on the back. This kept me from needing to alter the side seams, which I didn’t want to do because I’d matched the stripes perfectly.

To alter the dress now, all I had to do was take out the tucks and the waist fit! (I’m reminded that I had a similar problem/good fortune while letting out the waist of my 1904 Anne of Green Gables skirt–I mentioned it in this past post. Interesting that they’re both inspired by Annes!)

Luckily, I had enough extra waistband length to accomodate letting out the tucks. It was a little annoying to do, because I had to take the waistband off entirely to reset it with the extra across the back and I had serged the skirt and waistband seam allowances together. It was a bit of extra seam ripping, but that was better than trying to piece the waistband and match the stripes.

The next step was adding a waistband facing. I used a scrap of white striped cotton for the facing. It is machine sewn on the top edge, understitched (to keep the facing from rolling out and being seen), and then hand whip stitched on the inside.

Here’s a closeup view of the waistband. I shorted the zipper so it stops below the waistband, but I did not re-sew the whole zipper length–I still didn’t want to mess up the stripe matching on the side seam!

The final step was a hook and bar to close the waistband.

Ta da! The dress is now a skirt.

I’m not completely sold on the skirt. I like it, but I don’t know if I love it.

And I still feel it’s a lot of purple.

I thought it would go with more tops in my wardrobe, but it doesn’t really. I like it with white. I think it would look nice with yellow, but the yellow top I had in mind is horizontally striped and that just seems like too much with a vertically striped purple skirt!

I think I need to try wearing it for awhile and see how I like it. I haven’t really had a chance to wear it this summer given that I haven’t been going out, or wearing real clothes (as opposed to comfy clothes) very much. So a judgement about whether I like the dress-turned-skirt is on hold. That being said, I’m still excited that at least the garment is wearable now, whereas when it was a dress it was not.

When The Dress No Longer Fits (Mid-20th Century Edition, Part I)

Have you ever encountered closet shrinkage?

I’ve mentioned it here on the blog before, most recently in my modern wardrobe inventory post, but it is not only confined to my modern closet. Oh no, the things in my historical closet shrink, too!

In the past, I’ve shared how I updated two mid-19th century dresses to fit again, after finding that they no longer fit the way they did when they were first made, as well as how I updated two early 19th century dresses for the same reason.

I was recently inspired to finish off not just one, but two UFO ‘this doesn’t fit anymore’ projects that fall into the closet shrinkage category. I’ve decided to post about them separately, since I have a number of photos for each, so today we’ll look at my 1953 Dot Dress and next time we’ll look at my 1940s Inspired Anne Adams Dress.

I made this dress in 2013, for an adventurous day that included brunch, fall leaves, and roller skating (all followed by a Regency ball)!

I loved (and still do) the lightweight fabric, the fun dot print, and the pink, purple, and and rust colors of the dots. I wore this dress for the next few years–to a few historical/vintage events as well as in my everyday life.

This next photo is from 2016–the last time I could squeeze into the dress and actually close the zipper.

After that, I had to accept that the dress no longer fit. My shape had changed and it just wasn’t feasible. I was sad!

Fast forward to 2019, and I had the courage to decide to remake the dress, somehow, to make it fit. I got started by cutting straight down the front, stopping just short of the waistband, to see how much I needed to adapt the bodice…

It was rather a lot! I ran out of inspiration… and let the dress hang in my closet until recently.

I had thought I would just be able to add a piece to the front, somehow, and that would be enough. But when I started really looking at things again, I realized that the dress needed more than that to really do it justice. The side darts needed to be let out, the underarms need to be raised and filled in, the waist was still very tight, and there was the bust issue.

Oh, and I had minimal scraps for these alterations, partly because I’d used some of the larger ones to make ice skate soakers in 2015. (I’m not saying I shouldn’t have used my scraps to make a second project that brings me joy, but… the alterations would have been easier if I’d had wider scraps to work with!)

The front needed to have more more space created, about 3″ worth, but I had no scraps both wide enough and long enough to make a straight panel without seams. So I decided to get creative with a straight panel, adding tucks to it so I could hide seams within the tucks. I was inspired by the dotted dress Miss Hero Holliday wears in this wardrobe roundup post.

Here’s what my pieced piece looked like before pleating (lots of P’s!).

After a fair bit of complicated math (I’m pretty sure I made it more complicated than it needed to be), I was able to achieve a dress front that looks like this.

Essentially, I added princess seams. It was complicated to figure out, because I had cut straight down to figure out what was needed and I needed to add as much as 3″ at the bust while adding nothing at the waist, while actually adding in the panel that was 3″ wide from top to bottom. That means that I basically created a curve on the old center front line that was filled in with the straight pleated panel.

While being worn, it looks like this.

On the inside, I carefully bound all the raw edges in pink hug snug, just as I had when I first made the dress. However, I realized when trying on the altered dress that the pleats just opened up instead of staying put.

Oops.

This seems like it should have been an obvious problem from the beginning, but my brain missed it until I tried on the dress with the pleats in place.

So I had to figure out how to hold the pleats in place. The middle ones are held by the bits of grosgrain ribbon, while the side ones are invisibly tacked in place under the fold.

In addition to the front pleated panel, I also let out the side darts, which helped to create bust space and also raised the armhole a little bit as well. When I put the bias binding back on after doing all the other alterations I maxed out my meager seam allowance, which also raised the armhole up a bit.

You can just barely see my old stitch line on the side dart (on the top left side of the photo below). (You can compare this updated inside view to the original inside view in this post showing the original construction.)

And as you can see in both the photo above and the one below, I added a piece at the side seam, both above the waistband and in the waistband. There’s also a little crescent of added fabric on the back armhole (on the right sides of these photos), that fills in the raised underarm area.

I was very careful to re-finish the insides of the dress as nicely as I had the first time. That includes binding all the raw edges in hug snug (sometimes piecing in little pieces to do so) as well as adding pieces of bias to finish the new, wider neckline.

I decided to put in the zipper by hand this time around, as my first attempt on this dress with a machine sewn lapped zipper was a bit clunky where it went over the waistband.

All of these steps definitely added a bit of time to the alterations, but it makes me happy to still have lovely finished insides even after altering the dress.

The underarm area looks like this on the outside now. The busy print really helps to hide all my piecing seams! You can just make out some old stitch lines (like the one to the left of the zipper), but they’re not noticeable when the dress is being worn, thankfully.

I’m so pleased that I can wear this dress again! It actually fits better now than it did the first time, imagine that!

I wouldn’t have been able to make these alterations happen if I hadn’t kept my scraps!

I’m so grateful to all those seamstresses from the past few hundred years who have shown me that piecing is ok and making do/repairing/altering to keep getting wear out of clothes is ok, too! It’s a wonderful benefit of making my own clothes and knowing how to sew.

Welcome back, dotty dress!

When The Dress No Longer Fits (Mid-19th Century Edition)

A few months ago, I had a post with the same name that focused on two Regency dresses that had experienced closet shrinkage. The post was centered around what I did to make them wearable again. Around the same time I was battling the Regency closet shrinkage, I encountered the same problem with two of my older mid-19th century dresses as well. Boo!

It took me awhile to do anything about the problem and even longer to post about it, but here we are.

There was a time when the back edges of Evie’s bodice met from top to bottom. In fact, if you look at the pictures in this post from 2013 you’ll see that there was even excess fabric around the waist (yikes, but that does mean my waist has expanded a fair bit!); however, by February 2016, the bodice looked like this:

Uh oh! That wasn’t going to do for wearing at a ball! So I brought my corset and bodice (plus the other bodice I’ll mention shortly), got all laced up, and had a friend measure the gap between the back bodice edges and take pictures for documentation (so I wouldn’t forget the measurement, because let’s face it, my memory is pretty terrible sometimes).

Then I pondered my options. There was no way to let out the seams on this bodice, as the fabric has scarred at every point the needle and thread passed through. Plus, I didn’t leave much seam allowance anyway. Given my limited options, I decided that a placket was the best way to go. Many extant dresses using lacing as the method of closure on bodices and I’m sure that ladies in the 19th century changed sizes, too. I went on a hunt and couldn’t find an example of a bodice with a placket showing between the lacing, but museums have the benefit of being able to put their collections on forms rather than real people, which allows for easier adjustability to have the lacing edges touching. (If you know of any examples of a bodice laced with a placket under the gap, please let me know!) Anyway, I don’t think it’s unrealistic to assume that some ladies in the 19th century used the same method I did to allow adjustability in their bodices.

In addition to the placket, I also had to extend the bertha to bridge the gap. For that I was able to unfold my seam allowance, respace my gold ruffle, and cover the remaining gap with a rosette of gold like the one on the front of the bodice (another instance of the benefit of saving all the scraps from a project–this finished off the gold bits I had leftover from the original construction). Thankfully, these changes worked. I wore Evie to a ball in March 2016 and was happy as a clam. The placket was hardly noticeable and now the dress is much more adjustable!

The second bodice was for the dress named Annabelle, which was made in 2011 (and worn again later in 2011). This bodice also closed all the way down the back when it was made. Well, that’s not the case any more. Actually, a few years ago I’d already converted the closure from being hooks and eyes with folded over seam allowance to lacing with less seam allowance folded over in order to eek out a little more space, but that just wasn’t enough. By 2016, here’s how we were looking. It was time for a more drastic update.

I did the same thing I did for Evie, adding a placket and regathering the bertha to make it span the lacing gap. It took me about two years to get to it, but the result is that I was able to wear Annabelle to a recent ball in October, with a back that looked like this.

Not bad! The only thing I want to change is making that top edge actually stay matched rather than the one side riding up. But that’s a minor change. Overall, I’m pleased to be able to continue to wear this dress!

There we are–two more examples of how to fix the-dress-no-longer-fits problem! It was incredibly lovely to receive comments on the Regency post that other people also experience closet shrinkage and have already adapted their clothing to deal with it or are now inspired to do so. It is my hope that continuing to post about this topic will encourage others come to terms with their own changing size as well as ideas for how we can all deal and move forward while still being able to wear our finery.

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When The Dress No Longer Fits (Regency Edition)

Whether you sew historical clothing or not, I think it’s likely you’ve experienced the following phenomenon: You buy or make a lovely dress or other garment and wear it once (or maybe you wear it a lot). The season changes and you put said lovely garment away in the closet to await the next year’s season. When you next go to wear it, you realize that the garment no longer fits. It has obviously shrunk in the closet! I find that circumferences are the worst culprits for closet shrinking: waists, ribcage, arms… How dare they?!?

This has happened to me with both modern ready-made clothes and historical ones. Unlike modern ones, which usually hang around for a few years until I feel emotionally ready to donate them to someone else who might actually fit into them, my historical clothing has the benefit of being able to be resized with relatively little effort (certainly much less than making a new garment!). Depending on how I’ve constructed the garment, seams might be able to be let out or, being the pack rat that I am, I have more of the fabric hanging around and I can cut new pieces or add to what is there to expand at the necessary areas.

The more often I come across this problem in my wardrobe, the more I realize the benefit of making my clothing more adjustable from the start, with things like drawstrings and lots of overlap on opaque garments. (Did you notice that most of the closures on my recent 1817 Duchess Regency Gown were drawstrings? There might be an intentional rationale there… My 1811 Elusive Blue Gown also closes with ties and drawstrings, another intentional decision.)

1817 gown with mostly drawstring closures.

In the past year or two, I realized that two of my older and oft-worn Regency dresses had experienced closet shrinkage. I wanted to continue to be able to wear them and so I started thinking of the best ways to alter the size to make them wearable again. Luckily, both of these dresses fall into the category of ‘I kept the extra fabric and have plenty to play with to resize them.’

I used a different method on each dress. The first is my 1813 Red Dress, which I made in 2013. It’s seen lots of wear since I made it (yay for actually making good use of something I’ve made!) as well as a pretty major revamp when I accidentally tore a hole in the skirt.

It’s always closed with hooks and eyes, but when I went to wear it last year it wouldn’t close! With some safety pins, we got it to this point, but I was afraid for the integrity of the fabric because it was stretched so tightly.

I was able to use someone’s small scissors to take out the stitches along the back edge with the loops on it to get a bit more fabric across and we used the safety pins for bars with a piece of ribbon folded behind to stabilize the now-only-one-layer of fabric. But I wasn’t willing to let people see it looking like this!

Thankfully, I had a shawl with me and I wore it the entire evening to cover the back. I was apparently nonchalant enough that no one realized I was wearing a shawl to cover the fact that my dress wouldn’t close, but I was awfully warm while dancing! Something had to be done before I would wear the dress again.

I pondered multiple ideas, but the one I settled on was to cut new center back pieces with more width to them and sew them over the current, too-small pieces. I also had to piece the waistband to extend it as well as re-pleating the skirt to fit the larger size waistband, but it looks pretty good, I’d say.

The inside of the dress now looks like this. Previously, it was unlined (I did a post about the original inside finishing of this dress, which you can see here). Now, the center back panel has a lining to help stabilize it and encase the original back panels and waistband extension. Still tidy, yay!

In addition, the armhole openings had become quite tight. I wanted a little more space to be comfortable, so I also added underarm gussets (the upside down triangle). I simply opened up the seam and added a diamond shaped piece. It’s diamond shaped and folded in the center to hide the raw edges inside and out. I didn’t bother to add a band at the bottom, as I figured this gusset was in a place no one was likely to see such detail.

The other dress is my 1812 white square neck Ikea gown. I made this in 2012and have also worn it many times. Before the recent changes, I had made no other alterations to the dress since I first made it.

This dress also had a panel added to center back, but I had to more carefully follow the details of the dress, including the small seams (because of the sheer fabric) and the tucked waistband. This dress has spent a lot of time in the sun, and between that and being gently washed a few times, the fabric has become a much brighter white than it started out. It’s not noticeable, until I add a piece of the same fabric that has been sitting in my stash and the light hits it just right. (It’s convenient for pointing out the new fabric though, because it’s pretty obvious in the picture below!)

Sometimes, this would bother me. But it’s only noticeable in some light and I hope that eventually the pieces will also brighten. Plus, it’s entirely historically reasonable to piece a gown using more of the fabric that hasn’t faded in the same way as the rest of the garment to adjust the size. It’s much more practical than making an all new garment!

I had to regather the skirt on this dress (like I had to repleat the red one) to accommodate the new waistband size. I also added an underarm gusset on this dress to help the arm openings be more comfortable.

While the red dress fit pretty perfectly after the alterations, the white dress alterations proved to be too much (it’s hard to fit these things on yourself when the closures are in the back!) and I now need to move my eyes over and add a drawstring to the top of the back neckline to keep my undergarments from showing. Sometimes it seems like some garments will never leave the to-do list. Oh well! Does that happen to you? You think a garment is done until you wear it and realize it needs something changed or added? (I’m proud to report that between the time I started writing this post and the time I finished writing this post I completed those final two notes–drawstring and bars–and now the dress is done and ready to get put away! Hooray for getting rid of UFOs!)

Do you ever resize your modern or historical clothing after closet shrinkage? What methods have you used?

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