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Rate the Dress: Callot Soeurs & a quest for the source of inspiration

I swear I wasn’t thinking about a continuous theme at all when I browsed for this week’s Rate the Dress! But what do you know…it’s once again a back vs front dress, this time with a very ornamented front, and quite plain back.

Last Week:  an 1890s Liberty Tea Gown  

Although tea gowns weren’t primarily meant for tea parties, the ratings for last week’s Liberty example were rather like black tea with milk: very popular with most (at least that’s how tea goes amongst most of the people I know), and vehemently opposed by a small group (you know who you are, oh thee of ‘tea should NEVER be taken with anything but lemon’!).

Those who didn’t care for the tea gown were either not a fan of the droopy sleeves, or not a fan of orange.

The Total: 8.5 out of 10

Not quite as good as last week, but eminently respectable.

It was quite a fun score to add up, because I put the votes in columns of 10, and add up each column, and then add the columns and divide by the number of submissions. Every week I try to guess the exact final total as I add, and this week I got it spot on just by glancing at the numbers.

This week:  a mid 1920s evening gown by Callot Soeurs

The Goldstein Museum of Design describes this 1925 Callot Soeurs dress as a classic example of 1920s Egyptomania sparked by the 1921 discovery of King Tut’s tomb. However, I personally don’t see anything specifically Egyptian inspired about it.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, GoldsteinMuseum
Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, silk with beads, Goldstein Museum of Design
Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b
Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

Other than a slight resemblance between the dangling central ornamentation of the dress, and the elaborate belts or central border of men’s shendyt, none of the design elements seem to owe their inspiration to Tut’s tomb or other Ancient Egyptian art or artefacts. Instead they are typical of the types of generic orientalism that were popular in dress design throughout the 1910s and 20s – well before Carter’s discovery.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

The design could just as easily be inspired by a peacock feather. Or, with its formal central rose or cross, delicate trellis work, and acanthus leaves, the dress could be inspired by illuminated manuscripts and the dangling belt of a medieval gown.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b
Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

Or perhaps the basis for this dress came from the far east. The border of beading around the neck, and running down the front of the dress, do seem to evoke elements of late 19th century Chinese dress. The blue and white of the patterning, combined with the jade green hues of the dress, could have been taken from different varieties of pottery. Chinese textiles and pottery were both imported into the West in large quantities, and the textiles in particular were popular sources of inspiration for designers.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

It’s actually typical of the the work of Callot Soeurs that the inspiration for the dress is not as literal as to indicate one easily identifiable source. The design house’s brilliance was in delicately combining and re-imagining many pieces of inspiration into garments that were evocative, without being obviously derivative.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b
Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

While the inspiration for the dress is unclear, the actual construction is quite simple, but interesting. Like many 1920s dresses (including, quite fittingly, the 1920s tea gown in my collection given to me by the wonderful Karen), the dress is made in two parts. It includes an underdress/slip, with a plain top, and a skirt that forms the dark green under-layer, and a second overlayer of the lighter green.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

This method of construction provides a built-in slip and the opportunity for a layered tunic effect without the need for a joining seam. It allows the overdress to float about the wearer, without the weight and bulk of the underskirt dragging it down.

Dress, Callot Soeurs, 1925, Goldstein Museum of Design, 1990.003.005a-b

So, what do you make of this dress, with its simple silhouette, but clever construction, and ornamentation of un-specific origin?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

A reminder about rating — feel free to be critical if you don’t like a thing, but make sure that your comments aren’t actually insulting to those who do like a garment.  Phrase criticism as your opinion, rather than a flat fact. Our different tastes are what make Rate the Dress so interesting.  It’s no fun when a comment implies that anyone who doesn’t agree with it, or who would wear a garment, is totally lacking in taste. 

(as usual, nothing more complicated than a .5.  I also hugely appreciate it if you only do one rating, and set it on a line at the very end of your comment, so I can find it!  And 0 is not on a scale of 1 to 10.  Thanks in advance!)

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

The Star Trek Shawl

I’ve done a fair amount of reasonably geeky things in my life, but I reached peak geek this June.

I was having a lovely research and crafting day when I suddenly realised I’d spent four hours going through museum collections and making tables of the average sizes of Kashmiri shawls from between 1800 and 1810.

Not for work, or for a research project, but so I could make a Star Trek themed Regency shawl for our Regency Voyager cosplays…

It’s not overkill unless it’s actually fossilised!

Set Phasers to Stunning: Regency Star Trek cosplays thedreamstress.com

My Star Trekashmiri Shawl happened because I realised that

1. I was going to a ball in the middle of winter as Regency Captain Janeway in a light cotton frock and;

2. I’m always cold and;

3. I had a length of slightly moth-eaten wool crepe in a lovely cranberry red that would make an excellent shawl, and;

4. I wanted my Captain Janeway cosplay to be a little more obviously Star-Trek-Voyager-y. (I didn’t quite succeed with that last bit, but I’ll get to that).

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

So I got all excited about researching, and looked up a bunch of shawls and collecting dimensions (which I will share as soon as I find the notebook that I wrote them in), and then pulled out some lengths of fabric to have a feel for how big the shawl would be.

Which is when I realised how ENORMOUS and heavy a 3m x 130cm length of wool, even lightweight wool, was going to be!

No wonder they made dresses out of the things: 3m of 130 wide fabric is what I calculate I need for a simple Regency frock!

Not only was that going to be ridiculously heavy, but my length of red wool crepe was only 160cm long, which means I couldn’t have gotten a shawl center or border out of it without some awkward piecing.

I measured the fabric I did have, and did some calculations, and realised the biggest shawl I could make with my red wool and a 152cm wide x 70m long remnant of black wool crepe I dug out of my sash was about 2m x 1m.

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

The entirety of the 152 x 70cm black remnant forms the centre panel, framed by 15cm wide borders of the red, with long shawl, with 15cm wide lengthwise borders, and 45cm tapering to 25cm squared off triangles forming the end pieces.

Very happily, the layout also avoided the worst of the moth holes. I was left with only a few small ones on one piece. It felt lovely to give a piece of fabric that seemed close to destroyed a second life – very #costumersforclimateaction.

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

I made the shawl by finishing all the interior cut edges with narrow overlocking, and then appliqueing the pieces together with zig-zag stitches.

(below is the exceedingly happy moment when I finished my bobbin exactly at the end of the seam)

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

I then added an extra bit of decorative stitching (literally the only time in 5 years I’ve used one of the decorative stitches on my machine…)

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

Then I overlocked the outside of the shawl. Easy peasy! When you’re making a Star Trek themed shawl, you can’t get too, too fussed about historical accuracy!

Felicity, of course, helped. Felicity always helps!

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com
A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

It was simple, but effective, and lovely and warm and snuggly. Especially when the electricity in the old hall the Time Travellers ball was in wouldn’t support a heating system in both rooms.

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com
Set Phasers to Stunning: Regency Star Trek cosplays thedreamstress.com
Set Phasers to Stunning: Regency Star Trek cosplays thedreamstress.com

I had grand plans of stencilling boteh STV insignia along the edges of the shawl, but my test stencils looked terrible.

A Regency Captain Janeway cosplay, thedreamstress.com

So, the new idea is to applique the logos along the border of the shawl. But that’s not going to be quick…

I’m glad I haven’t gotten around to it, because I took the shawl to Costume College for the Thursday Night ‘Garments of the Galaxy’ pool party, and I was a little short on luggage weight, so I used the shawl as my airplane scarf.

I can confirm that extremely large wool crepe stealth-Star Trek scarves are excellent travelling companions. Big enough to use as a blanket, warm enough you can leave the jacket at home and only wear a sweater. And classic enough to make you feel stylish even after 20 hours of travelling.

I’m all about stealth cosplay, but I’m not sure I’d be willing to casually wear a more obviously Star-Trek-Y shawl across three airports and two countries!

Rate the Dress: Tea Gown Time

Well, I appear to be on a theme roll, because once again I’ve picked a dress with front view vs back view. This one is quite intentional though: it’s a tea gown with a specific over-robe effect.

Last Week: an early 1860s dress in blue floral silk

Last week’s dress was the opposite of the week before’s. A fortnight ago you liked the back view but not the front, last week you loved the front, but if you had any quibbles it was that you thought the additional back tails were awkward and misplaced.

The dress was also quite different to last weeks in that many of you absolutely loved it – somewhat to my surprise.

The Total: 8.9 out of 10

Not quite perfection, but getting there!

This week:  an 1890s Liberty Tea Gown

This Liberty tea gown has all the classic elements that make a tea gown: a robe effect with an unbroken line flowing past the waist, rather decadent sleeves, and elements of exoticism and romantic historicism.

Liberty tea gown, ca. 1897, sold by Kerry Taylor Auctions
Liberty tea gown, ca. 1897, sold by Kerry Taylor Auctions
Liberty tea gown, ca. 1897, sold by Kerry Taylor Auctions

It’s no surprise this tea gown has so many typical elements, because Liberty was responsible for making them ubiquitous in tea gown design. Tea gowns were the garment that made Liberty famous beyond the world of the Aesthetic movement. Historicism, exoticism, and a move away from a silhouette based on a distinct waist were all hallmarks of Aesthetic dress, and when tea gowns became fashionable on a wider scale, they carried those elements with them.

Liberty tea gown, ca. 1897, sold by Kerry Taylor Auctions
Liberty tea gown, ca. 1897, sold by Kerry Taylor Auctions
Liberty tea gown, ca. 1897, sold by Kerry Taylor Auctions

So, what do you think of this ever-so-ubiquitous tea gown?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

A reminder about rating — feel free to be critical if you don’t like a thing, but make sure that your comments aren’t actually insulting to those who do like a garment.  Phrase criticism as your opinion, rather than a flat fact. Our different tastes are what make Rate the Dress so interesting.  It’s no fun when a comment implies that anyone who doesn’t agree with it, or who would wear a garment, is totally lacking in taste. 

(as usual, nothing more complicated than a .5.  I also hugely appreciate it if you only do one rating, and set it on a line at the very end of your comment, so I can find it!  And 0 is not on a scale of 1 to 10.  Thanks in advance!)