I was very pleased with my hair for the 1890s ball! One of the reasons I liked the idea of an 1899 dress is because it is close enough to the turn of the century that a Gibson Girl hair style made sense. My hair loves cooperating in poofy styles, so this was perfect!
I created the super poof using a pad made from one leg of a pair of tights. It’s stuffed with cheap “wizard beard” hair that would otherwise have gone in the trash. Being stuffed with synthetic hair, the pad is pretty warm. And I did struggle a bit to get bobby pins through the tights–I need to add loops to the ends for next time I think. Aside from those things, though, the pad was perfect!
I also created a new hair ornament to finish off the coiffure. I had originally thought of bleaching the ostrich feathers to create an aigrette*, like this, but decided that I liked the ostrich feathers as is and didn’t feel like dealing with bleach. There are two feathers: a grey and a white. I found that the white helped create definition for the grey on my dark hair. The sparkly bit is a cheap eBay brooch. I sewed the feathers to it and then used the pin part to bobby pin it in place on my head.
Success! Look at that haughty Gibson girl look (like this)!
*An aigrette is a spray of feathers from an egret. Confusing!
I was all ready last weekend to create lots of picture heavy posts for the blog, and then my computer seriously died and required hard drive replacement. Luckily, Mr. Q takes care of me and established external backups a long time ago, so I didn’t loose anything (whew!!!). The store was able to fix my computer fairly quickly, but I’d lost the weekend to go through pictures and create posts.
So today is a quicker post with pictures from a WWII event a few weeks ago. WWII is a period I hardly ever visit and don’t have clothes for in my closet, so I was grateful to be able to borrow things from friends and Mr. Q’s closet (he had a polo shirt that looked way better than anything in my closet for this outfit!). The only thing I had was shoes and stockings–thanks guys–I would have been sad indeed without help!
We were a mix of female War Correspondents and Women’s Army Corps. Good thing War Correspondents didn’t have uniforms, because my outfit was a bit thrown together…
The day was gorgeous, though a little cold early in the morning. We just went for the day and enjoyed wandering around the Allied and Axis camps and watching the staged battle. This particular reenactment is known for the large variety of WWII vehicles that are on display and in use, which was neat to see.
Here is the German telegraph set up. The Axis camp actually had a lot of things to look at and one especially interesting interactive set up with food from the period.
The Germans also had some really snazzy cars and other vehicles. They did a few drives around the battlefield before the battle actually started.
Prior to the battle some tanks had been hidden just inside the trees across the grass field. It was my favorite part when they came trundling out mid-battle (especially the well hidden ones that we didn’t spot before things started!). My second favorite part was when, after the battle, they backed the tanks back into the trees to reset for a second battle later in the day.
And finally, a Russian unit in the Allied camp. We met another female reenactor who was with the Russian unit (women aren’t that common at these WWII events, you know, so it’s especially neat to meet others, especially those you don’t previous know). The tea and fur coats were pretty tempting while the day was still cold and later in the day there was music! Fun!
This gown was already in my sewing plan before I decided it fit into the HSF/M Challenge #10: Sewing Secrets. It turns out that it fits into the Sewing Secrets challenge for multiple reasons:
#1: Because like many dresses from the first few decades of the 20th century, the method of closure is cleverly hidden, rather complicated, and definitely secretive–you really can’t tell how the dress goes on just looking at it once it’s all hooked up. (Right? Can you figure it out before I show you later in the post?)
#2: The beaded panel on the front might look familiar if you’ve been reading my blog for a few years. It is actually the sleeve (turned upside down) from a 1980s evening gown that I remade into a sleeveless 1925 evening gown.
#3: I made this dress with a train because I had enough fabric, it’s elegant, and I don’t get to have many dresses with trains because I’m usually dancing in them. However, I do plan to dance in this dress, so I included a secret hidden button under the decorative knot at the back and a loop on the center back skirt seam so that the skirt can hook up (bustling, essentially) to be a uniform length all around so I can dance unhindered!
I paired this new dress with my American Duchess Astoria shoes, because they are super comfy and made sense color-wise with my other accessories: plain white stockings, a super long strand of faux pearls, lovely clear/white dangle earrings I’ve had for at least ten years, and two matching metallic silver wrapped hair pins I think my mother gave me also a number of years ago. Underneath is my 1913 chemise and corset.
I’ve had all the fabrics in the stash for at least three to seven years. The underskirt was leftover from a former project never fully pictured here on the blog–an 1890s 2 part dress taken directly from an extant bodice with an extrapolated skirt (the skirt was worn by a friend in Newport in 2012–there are pictures toward the bottom of this past post, and I forgot that the ensemble I’m wearing in that post also uses this same fabric as trim). I had purchased way more fabric than I needed and had more than enough for the new project, so I guess I’ll be using it on another something someday. The matching chiffon and charmeuse I’d purchased with the intention of making a 1910s evening dress back in 2012, but ran out of time that year.
When I was first seriously thinking of making this dress, I thought I had enough fabric to do something like this dress, but I hit a snag when I realized I only had about ½ yd of the charmeuse and that the beaded sleeve I was hoping to incorporate into the dress was entirely unsuited for the shape of the beaded bit on the inspiration dress. I decided to make a dress like my original inspiration someday, but to go back to the beginning for the current dress and rethink what the dress might look like. I would up with something I am quite happy with that is drawn from a variety of inspirational dresses on my 1909-1914 evening gown Pinterest board with this as the most obvious inspiration.
Just the facts:
Fabric: One beaded silk sleeve from a 1980s evening dress that I deconstructed two years ago to make a 1925 evening dress, about ¼ yd of plain weave cotton for the base, less than ¼ yd of silk charmeuse, about 2 yds of silk chiffon, and 3-4 yds of lightweight silk faille for the underskirt.
Pattern: Created by me, loosely starting with the pattern for the bodice of my 1912 burgundy and gold evening gown and referencing skirt shapes in Janet Arnold for inspiration.
Year: 1910.
Notions: Thread, hooks and bars, and two pre-made tassels.
How historically accurate is it?: It definitely passes Leimomi’s test of being recognizable in its own time. It uses accurate materials and accurate techniques. 95%.
Hours to complete: More than I kept count of.
First worn: In September 2015.
Total cost: Technically this is a stash project because all of the things I used have been in my stash for years, except the tassels, which I bought within the last year knowing this project was high on the to do list. If I had to guess at the cost of the materials it was probably $50-$60 dollars.
The dress was sewn with a mixture of machine and hand sewing. Most of the assembly of the bodice and skirt pieces while they were separate was done by machine, as was the hemming of all the chiffon and faille (though the hem edge of the chiffon is actually the selvedge). The hand sewing came in when I went to mount all of the pieces together. I started with the under bodice and kept adding layers and figuring things out as I went. The closures are also hand sewn.
Incidentally, I’m not really sure what color to call this dress. I’ve been calling the colors orchid and mauve, but I’m not really sure those are the best color names. The chiffon and charmeuse are a shade of pinky/purple that’s hard to put a finger on and the contrast faille is more grey than anything when it’s by itself, though it really takes on a pinky/purple cast when paired with these other fabrics. Does any really perfect color name come to your mind? If it does I’d be happy to know what it is!
As I mentioned, the closure for this dress is quite complicated and as I knew I was going to include it in the sewing secrets challenge we took pictures specifically of the closures to document how it works. If I tried to explain only with words I’m sure there would be confusion, so I think the pictures will clarify things. We’ll start hooked up and unhook as we go.
The back knot snaps into place over the belt, which hooks together at the back. The button for the bustling skirt loop is hidden under the belt in this picture.The belt unhooks all the way to center front.The chiffon overskirt unhooks from center back to the side.Then the front bodice chiffon layer unhooks at the top edge of the beading and at the waist so it peels back toward the side. After that the under bodice unhooks and the dress slides right off. Is that what you thought might be the closure system?
Overall, I’m super pleased with this dress. It’s very comfortable, has lots of fabric in the skirt so is easy to dance in, and is a nice transitional style between the full skirts and pigeon breasts of the years around 1908 and the much slimmer, longer lines of the years around 1912. Plus, it has a train!
Here’s a comparison of the dress with the train down and then with it looped up. Luckily, these pictures were taken before dancing. Turns out that while I was dancing a very fast waltz, either my or my partner’s foot caught the hem of the dress and caused the loop to break, so I’ll have to repair it more sturdily for the next wearing. Ah well, that’s why they make safety pins!
I was quite pleased with how my hair turned out, so I had to make sure to get a reasonable close-up. Some of the curls are natural and some are made nice and smooth with a curling iron. The key is to put the hair up in a lot of different sections–and I mean a lot!
I call this dress the “Dowager Countess” gown because the shape of it reminds me of what Maggie Smith’s character in Downton Abbey often wears to dinner parties. Look at the bodices on these dresses: this dress, this dress, and this dress are all examples of a similar style–one that the Dowager Countess wears often! And why wouldn’t I want to be reminded of Maggie Smith when I think of this dress? Her snarky comments are highlights of Downton Abbey! (Incidentally, one of my friends wore the just-emerging-in-the-1910s style of pants in the ballroom to this ball–gasp!–and we took some posed snarky pictures. Head over to her blog, Plaid Petticoats, to take a look at her scandalous outfit. When you get to the bottom you’ll find the snarky pictures. You might even find that you think I’m there twice, because I was wearing this new 1910 dress and I loaned my 1912 evening gown from 2012 to a friend who happens to be being snarky with me.)
In August, I attended the 1920s Crane Estate Lawn Party again for it’s 3rd year. The last two years I’ve worn dresses (my 1926 sailor dress and my 1922 blouse, hat, and parasol ensemble), but this year I had hoped to go to the beach prior to the lawn party and I really wanted a more beachy ensemble than a dress. It was also on my to-do list to make a 1930s beach ensemble, so I bent the time period of the lawn party a bit and decided to make and wear a new 1930s beach ensemble despite not actually making it to the beach.
It was a super hot day, unfortunately, so I spent a lot of time huddled under an umbrella in the direct sun before we got smart and moved to the shade. Before we hunkered down to avoid the sun I did get some good pictures, though! My hair turned out very well–I’m quite pleased with it, though I can’t remember what I did to get it to look like that!
The halter was made using Leimomi’s tutorial “How to make a 1930s style handkerchief halter top“. I used an old striped silk twill fabric remnant rather than a handkerchief, so I had to finish my edges, but I also had to piece the fabric to get the right beginning square rather than rectangle shape. I also made my square a bit bigger than a scarf’s dimensions so that my lower back would be totally covered by the halter. And I used hug snug for my tie, because it was all I had on hand that matched. The halter was pinned around my body to a comfortable point on each side.
Front.Back.My inspiration: one of the images that Leimomi includes in her tutorial post (just like the lady in the middle, I decided to make my center front seam decorative and do a chevron–it makes me very happy!). Beach pyjamas on the Cote D’Azure, colourized postcard, 1930sCutting and piecing to get the chevron.
The pants I drafted myself. They’re actually based on the same pattern I made my dotty tap pants from, adjusted to have a waistband, full length legs, and much more fullness in the width of the legs! The pants close with an invisible side zip. They are constructed from soft washed crepe-like polyester fabric that is super comfy to wear while lounging around on picnic blankets. And bonus, both of these fabrics have been in my stash for years: the stripe for about 7 or 8 years and the pants fabric for about 4 years. Free, and yay for using up stash fabrics!
There are more very fun examples of wide leg beach pajamas on my 1930s Sportswear Pinterest page. I’m looking forward to finding other opportunities to wear these again and hopefully getting pictures of them on a beach at some point!
Perhaps you remember this late 1920s green dress, which I made and first posted about in 2012? When it was first completed, I was in the midst of creating lots of new things for Newport Vintage Dance Week and was grateful that it had made it to a wearable state. I hadn’t quite solved the issue of keeping one side bunched up, so for the first wearing I used the bronze sequined flower pin you see in the picture below.
The slippery silk of the dress caused the pin to move around and shift while I was wearing the dress. I also didn’t love that it did nothing to break up the smooth lines of the back side of the dress.
In 2012.
Last year, I had a reason to wear the dress again and I came up with a new design idea, based on this image from 1929. I loved the simple lines of the green dress on the right (and it happened to be the right color!) and the sash with a huge bow. It took me another year to get proper pictures of the new look and document it here, but I’m really pleased with the pictures, so I guess it was worth the wait!
I used my remaining fabric to create a separate sash for my dress. It’s separate so I didn’t have to deal with adding closures to the dress–it still slips on over my head; however, because the silk is slippery and the bow side of the sash wanted to slide down, I did safety pin both the bow side and the opposite side of the sash to the dress to keep it in place.
The same basic dress in 2015, styled differently. The same gloves and pearls (worn differently), with my newly shared gold t straps, green earrings, and a matching trim headband.And a different hair style. This is a better view of the bow.
I think the 20s silhouette grows in my estimation the more I wear it. It’s sort of odd at first, but can be quite elegant sometimes! I’m very pleased with how the sash and bow break up the dress and add extra oomph to the hem.
The event I wore the dress to was a 20s fundraiser at a local hotel. Here’s a bonus picture of the dress in action.
I’ve wanted a robe de style to join my historic closet for at least a year, but haven’t had just the right fabric or the time or impetus to make it happen until this past spring. And as a general goal, I’ve been trying to expand my color choices beyond blues, greens, and reds, because those colors seem to dominate my historic wardrobe. Then this spring, I found gorgeous yellow silk at the local discount fabric store. I convinced myself that I didn’t need it, but couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I drove back to the fabric store a few days later to purchase the fabric.
I was inspired by the styles from the earlier years of the 20s for this particular robe de style, when the skirts were long and full. You can see a mix of robe de styles from the 20s on my inspiration Pinterest board. I didn’t follow any particular image or extant garment, but used them in general to create a unique dress. I really enjoyed wearing this dress and would like to make another someday that I think I’ll make a little shorter, more like later 20s styles.
I chose to accent the waistline of this dress with a ribbon rosette in a contrasting silk ribbon. It has an inner circle of matching yellow silk and a bit of gold sequined lace in the center. It looks a little like I won a prize at a state fair, but I like that it breaks up all the yellow of the dress.
The pattern is loosely based off the information provided by Maria in this blog post about her black robe de style. I scaled up her pattern, made a mockup, and then adjusted it to suit my body shape. The skirt required some math to get the right curve across the top to achieve the high-low hem–the bottom edges are the straight selvedge edges–but aside from that the panels are just gathered to fit the waist, with more gathers concentrated over the sides than in the front and back. The extra bonus about using selvedge edges for the hems is that they have a nice fringed edge that meant I didn’t even need to hem them! Instant hems and a nice lightweight looking skirt. Double win!
I used the opportunity of wearing this new dress to break out a new pair of shoes. Glamorous gold t-straps! (All the credit goes to Katherine for these shoes–she bought them in silver and posted about it which is what directed my attention to the style in the first place.) I bought them about 10 months ago for my birthday but hadn’t had an opportunity to wear them until now.
In addition to the pattern, I was also inspired by Maria’s simple finishing methods. I therefore flat lined my bodice, finished the neck and armholes with bias, and made a side closure. I opted to alternate snaps and hook/eyes for the closure, since Maria (and Katherine, who also made an inspirational robe de style you can see here) mentioned that their predominantly snap closures had a tendency not to stay closed. I had no problems with my closures on the dress’s first outing!
I chose to keep the understructure for this dress separate rather than building it in–that way I can easily use it for a second robe de style in the future! The understructure is mini-18th century pocket hoops attached to a grosgrain ribbon that fastens around my hips. I found that they shifted a little bit while I was wearing the dress, but not enough for me to really notice or care.
Unfortunately, the silk does want to wrinkle every chance it gets. But when the dress is in motion it’s really not very noticeable! I wore the new dress to an afternoon ragtime tea dance, which is what the pictures in action are from. There are 2 more tea dances this summer (one of them is this coming Sunday) and a suffrage rally and formal ball in September, so if you’re in the area and have the time I would love to see you at one of these future events (details here).
At last year’s Plymouth Thanksgiving Parade in November 2014, I portrayed suffragists with the same ladies as I did in 2013. I recently posted about the finally finished 1917 wool skirt I wore that day, but I thought it would be fun to share this video also and it didn’t quite fit in with the skirt post. It’s a little clip of us singing a suffrage song: While We Go Marching Together. For more information on suffrage songs, one of the other participants from our suffrage adventures wrote a blog post about them awhile ago that you can view here.
In addition to singing suffrage songs, we made suffrage ribbons and photocopied suffrage pamphlets, both to hand out to the public while interacting with them about the subject of women’s suffrage. We talked with men, women, and children about the value of women’s suffrage and the history of the movement, encouraging everyone to consider the importance of the right of women to vote.
From the Cranberry Scarf post, proof that I was wearing my wool skirt, though all the layers cover up the changes I made that completed it.The new placket closes with hidden skirt hooks and bars.
While the side seams, hem, and waistband were totally finished for the first wearing, the skirt never had closures. It just sat in my closet taunting me with it’s almost-finished status. When I went to finish it I realized that a side closure would make it much easier to get dresses and be less gap-y than the center back closure I had originally intended. Moving the closure meant re-do-ing the waistband, so I also used the opportunity to change out the pockets.
As a side note, pockets on day wear are genius! They’re so useful when you’re the public eye and you need to keep things like your car key, phone, and ID on you but you don’t want to leave them lying around. They free your hands from any sort of bag and ensure that your sensitive modern items are not lost or stolen. GENIUS!
New (modern shaped) pocket.
The pockets I’d originally put in were rectangles set in vertically that extended both in front of and behind the pocket slit. They are just fine in skirts with more fullness, but for this period they were hard to get my hand in and out of. So when I was changing around the waistband, I cut out a new pocket shaped like what you would find in a modern garment. The new pocket has a facing piece of the skirt wool sewn over the muslin where it might show when I put my hand in (that’s the square set of stitching on the upper right). Because I added a side closure I only have one pocket on the other side, but it is easier to use than the old pocket style was. Both the pocket and the waistband facing are made from scrap muslin (not itchy, not slippery, and who doesn’t love using up scraps?!?).
Both sides of the skirt have four covered buttons on them. Buttons were often used in the 1910s to decorate skirts and blouses (take a look at my 1915-18 Pinterest board, for instance, and you’ll see lots of examples). These buttons are just for show, though, because the skirt closes with hidden skirt hooks and bars.
Braving the cold to show off my completed skirt placket.
I referenced Jennifer Rosbrugh’s great placket tutorial (I could remember all the directions exactly, but it’s so much easier to just take a quick look to remember which pieces to cut to different sizes and where to put them!) and this tutorial showing how to add hidden side pockets (Again, nice to to have to think very hard: easy directions and good illustrative photos!). And I’m super pleased that the skirt is complete! Yay!
Success! I not only finished my 1950 Baroness Christmas dress the weekend after Thanksgiving, but we also managed to line up our schedules and go see The Boston Ballet’s Nutcracker at the beautiful Boston Opera House, where we took pictures! There were brass bands playing outside and carolers in silver down coats on our walk to the theatre. It was all very festive. And, of course, there was The Nutcracker with a live orchestra.
As you might be expecting, I wore my Christmas dress and took pictures for Edelweiss Patterns’ Virtual Christmas Dress Party. The original inspiration image is in this post. The dress is made from rayon and lined with polyester. I made an attempt to do a 50s stylized up-do, too, though I don’t have any close up head shots… but without further ado, here it is:
There were a few changes from the original, like adding a slit behind the front drape for ease of movement, adding a self fabric belt over the waist seam, and not quite making the pleats across the front deep enough to read once the bow was attached. I’m quite pleased, however, and love how festive the dress is! (And it’s quite formal, with that low back…)
Our group was very well balanced in having two greens and two reds, and three hats, and four gloves (two pairs, you know)… (It sounds like One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish or The Twelve Days of Christmas, doesn’t it?)
3 hats!5 of us in 1950s inspired Christmas outfits!Merry Christmas!
…and it qualifies for the HSF Challenge #23: Modern History! This particular challenge is to make something historical or historically inspired that is wearable in an everyday context. And a scarf like this: absolutely wearable in my modern life if I choose!
Just the facts:
Fabric: 2 skeins, of unknown length, of probably acrylic yarn.
Pattern: Made by me. (More details below.)
Year: 1910s. (More details below.)
Notions: None!
How historically accurate?: Ideally, it would have been made of angora yarn, but I had the acrylic on hand and didn’t want to spend extra money (angora yarn isn’t cheap, you know!). Acrylic wasn’t invented until 1941. However, the dimensions of the scarf are accurate, the pattern is entirely plausible for the 1910s, and the style is taken directly from an ad from the 1910s. So I’d say 90%.
Hours to complete: No idea. I knit while watching Netflix and didn’t pay any attention.
First worn: In Plymouth, MA the weekend before Thanksgiving while portraying a suffragette (as I did last year).
Total cost: $2.50 for the knitting needles and $1 for the yarn = $3.50.
The color is perfectly suited to the holiday season, being cranberry red just like the fresh berries I used to make homemade cranberry sauce last week. (That was really easy and tasty, by the way–I bought Ocean Spray cranberries and the recipe was on the bag!)
Cranberry red!
The pattern is moss stitch. I knit an extra row at the beginning and end just to provide some stability. Then, K2, P2 all the way across for two rows. P2, K2 all the way across for the next two rows. Repeat. Super easy. I keep track of what row I’m on in a little notebook with all my knitting patterns in it. That way I know where I’m at while I’m watching Netflix or when I’ve put it down and picked it up on a different day.
The dimensions are taken directly from a 1910s knitted wear ad that Lauren from Wearing History shared on her blog, here. I made my scarf 8” wide and 68″ long so it would provide maximum warmth while being worn. It also helps that it’s acrylic, which doesn’t breath and keeps you toasty. The fringe is about 6″ long and tied into 9 tassels, just as seen in the ad on a few of the scarves (turns out that I had the perfect number of fringe pieces to divide by 9 without planning!).
I had hoped to make these gloves from a 1910s pattern in matching yarn, but didn’t even start them. Perhaps it’s something that I can do next year! I’ve never knit gloves and I’ve only just taught myself to knit in the round, so while the cables in the pattern are not at all daunting, the simple idea of making gloves is. But challenges are fun sometimes! And I’m very pleased with the scarf.
The Quintessential Clothes Pen 