All posts filed under: 18th Century

Rate the Dress: Lady in White

Last week I posted a vibrant, exotic 1930s frock with a simple silhouette.  Some of you were a little unsure of the bolero, both in length and decoration, and karenb went against the trend and flat out didn’t like it, but it got so much love from everyone else that it managed an more-than-respectable 8.5 out of 10. This week let’s tone things way down (colour wise – ornamentation wise things are going to get a little busier)  with a white themed ‘Rate the Dress’. Perin-Salbreux’s ‘Lady in White’ is very white, from her powdered hair to her fashionably pale skin, through her pearl bracelets, white on white on white on white dress, and to the peep of white shoe.  Her dress is probably part fancy dress, part fantasy, meant to conjure up images of the ancient maidens who the 18th century public imagined to have dressed constantly in white while garlanding altars to love with roses.  The details of the outfit, though, are pure late 18th century: the shorter petticoat with deep ruffle, the …

Terminology: Marmottes and the Savoyarde style

A few weeks ago, when I wrote about the difference between kerchiefs, buffonts & fichus, I posted a picture of a ‘fichu en marmotte.’ We had a bit of discussion about what a fichu en marmotte actually meant, and why it was called a marmotte, and where the term might have come from.  I was pretty sure that a marmotte actually referred to a marmot, but did the headscarf and the rodent have anything to do with each other, and why? Being me, I kept wondering about marmots and marmottes, and kept digging and researching, and I am pleased to say I have figured out why a fichu en marmotte is en marmotte. It turns out that fichus en marmotte are named after marmots, in a roundabout way. In the 17th & 18th century  peasants from the alpine region of Savoy would train marmots and dance with them as street entertainment. Yes.  You read that right.    18th century.  Streets of Paris.  Dancing groundhogs.  DANCING GROUNDHOGS. Basically they were a precursor to the more-famous organ …

A petticoat fit for a Queen

It’s done! Some 22+ metres of hand sewing later (3x 110cm side seams, sewn twice; 350cm hem, sewn twice; 280cm ruffle, sewn, gathered to 170cm, sewn again; 250cm of piecing additions; 100cm of pleating whipped to waist; 100cm of pocket slits; 30cm of ruffle join), I have finished my Queen Charlotte inspired 1760s petticoat. I am extremely pleased!  Especially with the ruffle: It’s not exact, but the effect is close. To finish the petticoat, after creating my punched lace pattern, I sewed a single line of even gathering stitches 2″ down from the uppermost point of my small upper scallops.  It’s clear in Ramsay’s portrait that Charlotte’s ruffle is held on with a single line of stitching. I gathered down my single line of stitching to half the width of the petticoat, and then stitched it on to the skirt using a running-backstitch.  I’m extremely pleased with how close it is to the effect shown on Charlotte’s petticoat – down to the upper portion wanting to stand away from the skirt, and looking fuller and …