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

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

Making It Work

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

Sewing… With Some Bumps Along The Way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finishing Details

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

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

And that’s it!

HSM Details

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

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

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

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

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

Why patience? This sewing process definitely took patience!

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

Just the facts:

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

Pattern: My own

Year: 1835.

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

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

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

First worn: Not yet!

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

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

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

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

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

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

First Things First

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

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

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

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

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

Looking Further

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

1830s Inspiration

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

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

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

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

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

Project Journal: 1822-1824 Ensemble Part VIII: 1824 Dress Re-Imagined (HSM #1)

Sweeping views, a gold tinged sunset, lilacs in full bloom… and a re-work of an old dress!

Backstory

Back in 2014 I was on an 1820s kick, making undergarments and multiple outfits for dancing and staying warm while out in the winter. I shared about the design, construction process, and wearing of these garments in a Project Journal series of posts (hence the name of this blog post, which is installment VIII in this series). This link will take you to the full project journal. I wore these 1820s outfits over the next number of years, discovering different small details I wasn’t completely happy with and letting out this green dress in the sleeve circumference and back closure, in particular, to adapt to my size around 2015.

The small details that never quite made me happy included:

  • The way the skirt hung in the front with an outward fold rather than flat with a more exaggerated A-line silhouette.
  • The length, which was a little shorter than I liked the proportions of.
  • The fact that the appliquéd organza trim didn’t have quite the impact I was hoping for. I was actually a little bored with it.

Re-Imagining

I had an upcoming event to wear the updated dress to and theme was a “blossoms ball!” So as I was brainstorming about the trim I thought “perhaps I need to add more flowers!” Here is the finished result.

Let me explain the updates. The first goal was to lengthen the hem. I had actually left length on the bodice that could have been used to add overall length by resetting the waistband a lower position, but the silk fabric had permanent holes from the stitching that were quite visible, so this wasn’t a viable option. My solution was to make a new, wider waistband. This would drop the hem while also shifting the proportions just a bit to be more flattering. I still had a yard or so of this fabric carefully stashed away and cataloged (you can read about my stash system in this past post if you’re interested), so the materials part was easy.

The second goal was addressed while the waistband was getting replaced. I shifted the skirt gathers to be a little wider across the back and better suit the overlap of the formerly-let-out back pieces. In the original iteration of this dress the gathers were concentrated in about half of the space that they are now, based on the historical pattern information I was using as a guide. But what I found while wearing the dress is that that placement of the gathers was eliminating some of the A-line shape that I was going for.

Additionally, I discovered that changing the waistline curve of the side skirt pieces would also help flatten the front of the skirt and kick out the sides to create the A-line shape I wanted. This makes sense from a patterning perspective, but was an update from the pattern pieces I had taken from Patterns of Fashion when I originally made the dress. I lowered the stitch line on the side skirt panel by about 1″ and tapered that towards center front and center. back. Below is a photo of the new waistband being attached, showing the old cut edge and stitch line very clearly above the new stitch line.

The bodice still fit in its let-out state (yay!), so it was easy to reattach it to the new waistband. I carefully followed the original stitch line to keep old stitch marks from showing! Those changes covered the first two goals of this re-imagining.

The last goal was to energize the trimming! I still remember the time consuming and finicky process of adding the appliqué silk organza motifs to the dress. I didn’t want to diminish that work! But it just doesn’t pop that much on its own… The fashion plate I was originally referencing can be seen here. It is partway down the page, labeled 1824 – Ackermann’s Repository Series 3 Vol 3 – May Issue.

When I looked at fashion plates from 1822-1824 again the 3D nature of the trimmings stood out to me and I thought “what if I add 3D flowers to the existing motifs?” There are multiple examples of evening gowns with this type of 3D trimming in this digitized volume of Ackerman’s The Repository of arts, literature, commerce, manufactures, fashions and politics. (The easiest way to find them is by looking at the thumbnails and quickly scrolling through all of the pages of text to look for the full page fashion plates scattered throughout.)

Off I went to my flower stash to see what I could find! I considered pink, yellow, and purple to complement the green of the dress. Given what I had available the purple was the winner. The color popped and brought energy to the whole dress without being garish and the flowers, which are silk but with plastic stems, didn’t appear too plastic-y to complement the silk dress. They needed a little bit of a transition, so I decided on adding some wired white silk millinery flowers as well. The fact that all of these flowers just exist in my stash in bulk was so helpful! And cost effective!

I had so much fun creating a hairstyle to go with this updated dress, too! More on that in my next post. For now, this re-make is my entry for the 2026 HSM Challenge #1 Joy For January:

Create an item that epitomises the joy you find in historical costuming – or simply something that would bring you joy at this time of year, whether it’s dark and cold, or sweltering hot where you are!

This dress fits the challenge because I find joy in:

  1. Re-making garments to fit better or have a more arresting design
  2. Re-wearing garments so I get more use out of my hard work
  3. Applying new knowledge to my projects

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Leftover scraps of green silk.

Pattern: My own.

Year: 1824.

Notions: Thread and flowers.

How historically accurate is it?: 99%. Altering clothing to adjust for fit and shifting fashionable silhouettes is a documented historical method! A small bit off for not perfectly accurate flowers.

Hours to complete: I did not keep track. 6-8 is my guess. Most of that would have been hand sewing on the flowers.

First worn: May 16, 2026.

Total cost: $5. The fabric used was scraps from the original project. The flowers were purchased in bulk for a very low cost and stashed for years.

A New Look For Georgina

I decided to bring an oldie but goodie out of the closet for this year’s Footwork and Frolick fundraiser tea! I made Georgina, this 1858 reproduction cotton print dress, back in 2013! You can read all about the construction details here, in the original blog post sharing about this dress.

Movement space while preparing and serving tea is limited at this event, so hoops (which I would normally wear with this dress to support the skirt shape) were out of the question. I decided to go in an earlier 1850s direction with the help of the 1830s. (If you’d like to learn more about the “reasonable” hoops I would normally wear with this dress, check out this blog post which talks about how I made them, the dimensions, etc. and compares these to a bigger, more exaggerated hoop skirt I made as well.)

Why earlier 1850s? Well, the steel cage crinoline was patented in 1856. Before these structures came into use, women in the 19th century used other methods to create volume in their skirts. Layered petticoats, petticoats with ruffles, petticoats made out of stiff fabrics such as horsehair, quilted petticoats… These could get heavy and hot, but they did manage to get the job done! I decided to go with this type of layering for Georgina for this wearing.

However, while I don’t have layers and layers of 1850s specific petticoats, I do have a number of 1830s skirt supports and petticoats. So that’s where the 1830s helped out! It’s not unreasonable to think that people in the 1850s were still wearing garments similar to what they wore in the previous decade or two. Petticoat styles changed slowly (aside from increasing in volume!). I wore my 1830s/40s corded petticoat, 1830s skirt puffer, and 1830s/40s brown silk petticoat to achieve fullness. It was a nice silhouette!

The only issue is that Georgina’s skirt was still a little big long to be able to walk safely, especially while holding a pot of hot tea! So instead of wearing flat shoes, which would be my go to for daytime wear for the 1850s (or one could wear low — 1″ or so — heels, but I don’t have the right style in a daytime shoe style), I decided to wear my American Duchess carriage boots, which have a 2″ wedge. It’s always fun to have a reason to wear them and they lifted me just enough for my skirt to be a safe length. A win on all counts!

The other fun thing about this wearing is that I added a ribbon belt! This is a style that is pretty common for the 1850s in photographs of women wearing daywear. The belts and buckles add interest and help define the straight waistlines of the dresses. In the example below, the woman on the left wears a belt with a decorative buckle.

Group of six people outdoors, R. H. Kinnear, Science Museum Group collection. Included in the article “How to spot a carte de visite (late 1850s–c.1910)” by Colin Harding. 27 June 2013.

Here are further examples (all of these are on Pinterest): a plaid dress with a belt and decorative buckle, a check dress with a belt and decorative clasp, and a printed dress with a belt and decorative clasp or brooch.

Like the skirt supports, this idea also links back to my 1830s outfits, as I purchased three different colors of beautiful petersham ribbon to use at belts for my cotton print dresses from that decade as well as decorative buckle to wear with them. In this post about wearing my 1838 yellow dress I show the brown ribbon and discuss where I purchased the ribbon and buckle. In this post I show the burgundy ribbon with the 1834 bodice for my yellow dress. And in this more recent post I show the dark green ribbon with my 1836 blue dress. The burgundy ribbon matches Georgina’s fabric perfectly, so that’s what I decided on!

It’s fun to wear this lovely reproduction print and have a new accessory to change things up! Georgina in a new light! And a few photos of lovely flowers from the tea to add a bit of charm, as well.

1830s Blue Cotton Print Dress Friends!

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

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

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

And fun to play 1830s-bumper-sleeves!

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

1836 Blue Cotton Print Dress (HSM #7)

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

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

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

Below, showing off these new sleeves!

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

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

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

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

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

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

This dress is directly inspired by this fashion plate!

Just the facts:

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

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

Year: 1836.

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

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

Hours to complete: 25 ¾.

First worn: March 7, 2026.

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

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

When The Dress No Longer Fits (1864 Green And Gold Dress, Evie) (HSM #11)

(HSM #111Today, I have another installment of a When The Dress No Longer Fits story. I share these posts as I update older dresses to fit my current body size. You can read all of the posts in this series here.

The Back Story For Evie, My 1864 Green And Gold Dress

Back in 2013, I decided to prove to myself that a hand sewn 1860s dress could stand up to lots of wear by making a new dress and wearing it to many social engagements. Thirteen years later, I can say with confidence that the green and gold silk dress has held up well to many wearings, just as I knew it would!

Here is a past blog post with many images showing this dress, which I named Evie, when it was first made. And below, a photo from that past blog post showing the dress. Looking closely, it even has extra space at the waist…

Well that isn’t the case anymore! I haven’t worn it in the last few years because it no longer fit, particularly in the waist. I changed sizes around 2015, and at some point around there I was able to extend the life of the dress by adding a placket under the bodice lacing so it didn’t quite need to meet to fit. And the waistband was just tight.

But more recently… the waistband would not close. And given how the dress is made, with 6 perfectly even stacked box pleats around the waist, one of which concealed the opening, there was no wiggle room for adjustment without a full re-pleating. When I finally made the decision to make a new waistband and re-do the pleating, I had forgotten how old this dress is. Built in 2013? No wonder it no longer fit!

Documenting My Updates

The first step to the remake was to take note of my original pleating math. Below, a photo of the outside of the skirt with the original waistband.

Then, seam ripping the old waistband to remove it from the skirt.

I decided that while the skirt was taken apart anyway, I would do a couple of additional things:

1 – I shortened the skirt by about 2″. It had always been a bit long for dancing, but given that there was so much trim near the hem it wasn’t possible to easily hem it. But with the waistband taken apart it was easy to shorten the skirt from the top.
2 – I removed the top portion of the muslin flat lining from the skirt, leaving only about ⅓ of it around the bottom to support all of the trim and provide a facing for the silk. When I made the skirt flatlining the entire thing felt supportive, but I realized that it was unnecessarily heavy and made the stacked box pleats at the waist extra thick and annoying to deal with. So no more of that on this second version of the skirt!

Below is a photo showing the inside of the skirt in its original form, with the muslin extending all the way up to the waistband. The box pleats were so thick there was no way to sew the waistband in a conventional way, so I turned all of the raw edges of the skirt to the inside and whipped the waistband to the top edges of the folded down pleats.

Below, a photo of the inside of the skirt with the muslin cut off to end just above the trim stitch lines. It’s pinned in place and ready to be slip stitched to become a wide facing.

Next, I dug out my fabric scraps and cut an extension piece to make the new waistband larger. I also cut a piece to put a formal placket into the new skirt (to replace the previous opening, which had the raw edges of the silk and muslin turned towards each other and running stitched — that method wouldn’t work with the new all silk upper). You can see the old opening in one of the earlier photos.

Below, the old waistband, before adding extensions, and the new placket piece (laid sideways).

Once I had my new pieces cut and ready to go, it was just a matter of stitching the placket in place and then pleating the skirt to the new waistband dimensions. I don’t enjoy doing pleat math, so this step took a lot of fiddling. I’d rather pleat by trial and error… a time consuming method, but it works for my brain. It was extra brain-boggling because I was trying to hide the placket inside of the double stacked box pleats of the skirt folds, such that it landed in the middle of one of the pleated areas.

Below, the new top edge of the skirt. Shortened, pleated, and basted in place.

Once pleated, the sewing part was easy. All that remained was putting the waistband closures back on! Below is the updated waistband and placket from the outside of the skirt, with the placket hidden under one of the stacked box pleats. I reused the old waistband, even though it is a bit worn, because way not? It’s recycling and has patina!

And here is the updated skirt from the inside. The only muslin in this area now is on the waistband facing. The location of the placket, hidden under a pleat, is a little more clear.

As a bonus, I decided to stitch down the gold skirt trim a little more securely, so that it would always stay in the correct place and look tidy, rather than needing a fluff for every wearing. And, I thought that a small bit of contrast would be nice, so I added some burgundy ribbon rosettes in the middle of the gold rosettes on the skirt, too. These were gifted to me about twenty years ago (along with the beads for my snowflakes last year) and I have never known what to do with them. This worked well! I just safety pinned them from the back so they are easy to remove if/when I decide to change things up.

And that’s it! Evie is now wearable again! And the red rosettes match the paint on the walls very nicely, I think.

Historical Sew Monthly Information

I’m calling this my entry for the 2026 HSM Challenge #11: Green:

Make something that has the color green in it, or that is “green” in that it upcycles materials or resources from something else.

This fits the challenge in terms of color and in terms of reusing materials from an old dress and from gifted trimming bits!

Just the facts:

Fabric/Materials: Scraps of green silk and cotton muslin.

Pattern: My own.

Year: 1864.

Notions: Thread, hooks, bars, and ribbon rosettes.

How historically accurate is it?: 99%. Accurate materials, reasonable upgrades and hand stitching, I think this one is pretty good.

Hours to complete: I didn’t keep track.

First worn: January 1, 2026.

Total cost: Free, since everything came from the stash and was either gifted to me or purchased ages ago!

For a fun finish, here are a few more atmosphere photos showing off Evie and her well dressed friends.

Summary of 2025: Looking Forward To 2026

2025 was a bit of a crazy year, but despite that I have so many things to be grateful for and recall with joy, including both sewing projects and events! So here is my 2025 recap. (You can see all of my past posts related to reflecting and looking forward here.)

 Projects I completed in 2025

January: c. 1770 Stomacher (for the new Yellow Sacque) (HSM #12)

February: Two Tuckers (for the Versailles and new Yellow sacques) (HSM #6)

March: The New Yellow Sacque

June: 1885 Fancy Dress Re-Do (HSM #9)

July: A Mysterious Domino

November: 1797 Watermelon Sleeveless Bodice

November: A Recycled Plastic Icicle Crown

December: Beaded Snowflakes

General Blog News

I participated in my 13th year of the Historical Sew Monthly! This year I only got around to posting about 3 of the 12 challenges. That was fewer than I had hoped, but the end of the year became very busy and this fell down on my priority list. A few of the small projects I completed at the end of the year could have counted for HSM challenges, I think, but I didn’t have the wherewithal to document them in that way. Oh well!

Event Recap

I attended 3 balls, 2 other events (tea, picnic, croquet, outings, etc.), 3 dance and historical pastimes performances or educational events, and 1 weekend event (that included dancing, games, and costumed outings). Certainly not my busiest historical year, but I had a lot going on, so given all the life things this was pretty reasonable.

To Do Lists

Well… Looking at last year’s to do list, I didn’t get very far. I did work on some of the things on the list, but I didn’t complete any of them entirely.

So, my definitely-to-do for 2026 is a repeat of 2025. That includes:

  • Finishing the 1836 Blue Print Cotton Day Dress #2. This had some progress made (I attached the skirt to the bodice!), but it needs new sleeves patterned and executed.
  • Updating the trimming on my 1893 Bronze and Pink Ballgown to better go with the size updates I made in 2022 and posted about in 2023. I started this, re-seating the waistband and taking out the old hem, as well as starting to re-trim the bodice, but then I got stuck and distracted.
  • Scroop Patterns Frances rump (1775-1795). This is well on it’s way to being finished, but I am trying to get the 1893 and 1836 dresses done first.
  • 18th century neckerchief. I believe I did research on shape, decided on size, and cut this out, but haven’t hemmed it yet.
  • Various sleeve and neck ruffles to go with all of these 18th century gowns. These are cut out and started, but I lost the motivation to work on them.

And my maybe-to-do list includes:

With such a busy year in 2025 I really can’t fault myself for not completing these things. I did, after all, complete some other sewing projects. We’ll see how I do with the list in 2026. At the very least I’d love to get the 1836 dress, 1893 dress, and Frances rump completed, so that I can put them away! The dresses, in particular, have lived in plain sight for years now so that I remember to work on them.

I remain so very grateful for good friends, supportive family, and engaging blog readers. I sincerely hope you also have many things to be grateful for and that this new year brings joy and peace to you.

Here is a silly cheers to another year of historically clothed fun!

1899 Elusive Blue: The Snow Queen Fancy Dress Version

It’s time to share photos of my completed Snow Queen fancy dress outfit! This outfit, which is a re-trimming of my 1899 Elusive Blue dress, made use of new beaded snowflakes (posted about in detail here) and a recycled plastic clamshell icicle crown (posted about in detail here). Below is the finished outfit with all of the trimmings!

The trimmings included big sparkly earrings and a long strand of faux pearls worn in an 1890s style, long white gloves (an essential for an 1890s ball!), the afore-mentioned snowflakes and crown, and a bit of white fur to capture the idea of snow.

The fur tippet amuses me because it is super soft and comes in handy as a historical accessory, but also because, looking back, I made it in 2012! Here is the original blog post about it, including a definition of what a tippet is and research showing examples of tippets. How fun that it is still in my wardrobe and still coming in handy!

Here is the icicle crown in action, to give some context to the description of how it sits on my head.

To finish off, here is one more full length view of the ensemble, zoomed out far enough to see the fun bubble-shaped light fixture!

Happy new year! Thanks for enjoying this ensemble with me!

1797 Watermelon Sleeveless Bodice, Part III: Finished Garment

I’ve spent the last two posts sharing the details of inspiration, patterning, and making a 1797 sleeveless bodice. Now it’s time for photos!

The new bodice is named for the vibrant colors I chose for it. Lime green! And pink! Ok, watermelons are a deeper shade of green, generally speaking, but the green and pink idea generally makes sense!

I enjoyed the minute details as I created this garment. In the photo below, the gathers of the peplum at the center back and along the sides are visible.

The back of the bodice rises up a bit, just as the dress underneath does. That is visible at a bit more of a distance.

I wore the new bodice with my 1794 Windowpane Ruffled Dress and 1790s Organza Cap With Gold Stripe Trimming.

It was all very grand. Fluffy, elegant, and extremely fun to wear!