The Dreamstress

When I plan for big costuming events like talks and Costume College I always have ambitious ideas of new things I’m going to make, and realistic back-up plans of things that are already in my costuming wardrobe that I can pull out in a pinch if I can’t sew as fast as I had hoped to.

I had grand plans of a new 1920s dress for Costume College 2017, but things just kept going wrong in the months leading up to CoCo, and eventually I had to concede that it just wasn’t going to happen.

My backup dress was the 1921 ‘Daisies and the Devil’s Handiwork’ frock  (go read that post!  It’s a very good post!).  I was feeling pretty meh about it when I packed it, but it turned out to be pretty much my favourite thing that I wore the whole weekend!  Super comfortable, I felt gorgeous, and I got SO many complements, and tons of people (including lots I thought couldn’t possibly be fooled!) thought it was true vintage.  (yes, I even liked it more than my gala gown, because I wasn’t conflicted about the finish, or stressed about getting it done!).

I only got a couple of photos of me in the 1921 dress at CoCo, and while I look adorable in them (I’m sorry, claiming anything less would be false modesty!), they aren’t great photos.

So when I got home I resolved to take photos in it as soon as the weather warmed up.  The weather has WARMED (we’re having an almost unprecedentedly warm and dry spring), but all attempts to schedule a shoot fell apart, until last weekend.  Mr D and I went for a walk in Otari-Wiltons bush, which has both untouched native forests, and beautiful native botanical gardens.  It was so pretty that after dinner I suggested we go back and take some photos.

30 minutes later (yay 1920s!  so fast for getting dressed!) we were at the gardens.  I wasn’t particularly optimistic about what we’d get.  We didn’t have a lot of time before the light went, I’d never done photos in the part of the garden we were in, so didn’t know how to coach Mr D on the light without a lot of trial and error.  I just told him to do whatever he felt like, and if we didn’t get anything, c’est la vie.

No matter what, we’d have a wonderful time: all the native birds were incredibly active, with tuis singing their hearts out and having little territorial flights, and kereru sitting on branches almost within arms reach, and blundering from tree to tree.  I felt like I’d stepped into my own movie.  ‘Enchanted December-is-basically-April in New Zealand’.

I was sure I’d look daft in every photograph: slack jawed with delight. I couldn’t stop looking up at the tree tops in wonderment, and basically bouncing up and down as birds flew around me.

And then, 30 photos in, my camera battery dies.  No worries, I brought the backup!

Which I hadn’t charged…

So it died 5 photos later.

That’s OK, I had my other camera!

Which ALSO had a low battery that died after about 7 photos.

Gah!

So we switched to my iPhone.  Not as good at taking photos, but at least it had plenty of battery life!

When I got home and looked at the photos I couldn’t believe it.  Hardly a dud in them.  Usually we take 200 photos and 20 of them are ones I’d be willing to have the public see in any way, manner, shape and form.  This time it was 150!  Mr D outdid himself, and slack jawed with delight suits me!

I have culled, and culled, and here are a few of my favourites.  They aren’t technically perfect photos, but Mr D is not a photographer, and he was doing exceptionally well under trying circumstances.

I’m wearing the dress with Rosalie stockings, American Duchess Moliere shoes (review coming soon!), vintage faux-pearl earrings, and a light half-corset.  The Scroop Rilla corset would be perfect to wear with a 1921 dress, but it was very hot, and I was too lazy to go digging in the corset storage for one when the other one was already out.

(that is definitely a ‘I just saw an amazing bird’ face!)

I think this dress is magical.  I’m always worried about it, and it always delivers, and then some!

Welcome to Rate the Dress!  This week we go from chintz to casaquin (and I know that’s kind of comparing apples and asparagus…)

Last week: 1890s theatrical sweetness

Last week we looked at a sweet florals and ruffles 1890s dress which may have been a fashion garment, or a theatre costume.  You almost unanimously liked the fabric.  You were less sure about the rest.  And there was something about the outfit that just wasn’t quite one thing or another – there were SO MANY #.5 ratings!

The Total: 7.9 out of 10.

Better than I expected actually!  I guess the gorgeous fabric did the trick!

This week: 1720s-40s theatrically-embroidered casaquin

This week we turn from an ostensibly normal dress which may actually have been a theatre costume, to an unusual high-fashion outfit with theatrical inspiration.

This early-mid 18th century outfit features a loose jacket (casaquin) and petticoat of ivory linen, both lavishly embellished with polychrome wool embroidery.

The casaquin & petticoat ensemble is an early example of the 18th century obsession with turning lower class garments into fashionable dress (other examples are  bergere and marmotte).

Despite the working class inspiration, relatively humble linen base and wool (rather than the more common, and more obviously luxe, silk) embroidery, this is definitely a high-status garment.  The standard of workmanship is excellent.  The white linen would have taken work to keep clean, and the brilliant embroidery involved expensive dyes.  More obviously, the garment is a walking advertisement of worldliness.

Not only is the embroidery an obvious example of chinoiserie, the dancing jester figures, which represent the Four Continents (the world was simpler in 1725) show the influence of designers such as Jean  Berain who created costumes for royal fetes and theatricals.

In one garment the wearer is able to demonstrate their familiarity with exotic design, geography, and the latest artistic trend.  At the same time, they are on the cutting edge of fashion: blending luxury and faux-casual comfort drawn from working attire.

What do you think?  Is it all a little too gauche and hip?  A middle-aged teacher trying to use all the hottest slang?  Or the perfect encapsulation of all that was fashionable and relevant?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

(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!  Thanks in advance!)