Latest Posts

Rate the Dress: A Lady on Horseback

Last week I showed you a really frilly, over the top 1870s dress – but in a very restrained colour scheme.  Unsurprisingly, for most people whether they liked it or not came down to whether they are maximalists or minimalists, though some with more restrained  tastes conceded that it would look spectacular from a distance.  Surprisingly (to me at least) one of the things it got the most criticisms for was the black trim.  I thought the harshness of the contrast balanced the too-busy, too-sweet trim of the rest, but I was very much  in the minority (though not entirely alone) in liking it!  The dress came in at 7.6 out of 10.

For this week’s Rate the Dress, let’s look at some very feminine menswear inspired clothes in the form of a fluffy, pastel-y riding habit:

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Let’s take a slightly closer look:

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Campeche’s luxuriously  attired horsewoman sports a white satin skirt, and a jacket and double-breasted waistcoat in robins egg blue satin, with white facings and self-fabric buttons.  Her cuffs and cravat are of hard to make out, appear to be trimmed in lace.

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Our lady got quite excited when it came to matching her horse, with white bows throughout his mane and tail, and a matching one on her crop, plus toned tassels on the end of the reins.  Even her hat is the exact same shade as her mount’s coat, though she allowed a little contrast in the cream bows that dot the brim, and the various shades of ostrich feathers crowning it.  Perhaps my eyes are deceiving me, but I do have a suspicion that there is a robin’s egg blue feather secreted at the rear of the hat.

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Oh, and we mustn’t forget footwear.  She’s even got little white riding shoes:

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Jose Campeche, Dama a caballo (Lady on Horseback), last two decades of the 18th century

Clearly this is not a practical outfit.  No matter how wide and thick the velvet rug you have protecting your skirt from the horse, no white satin frock is going to stay pristine for many hours on horseback.  So our lady is wearing a show outfit.  But for show?  To demonstrate  both your skill as a horsewoman and your taste in dress in a portrait?  Does it pass muster?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

(oh, and go look up Jose Campeche.  He’s a fascinating artist!)

 

Karen’s Gift: A velvet 1920s confection by Mrs Martina Downing

I really wanted to post something today, but wasn’t sure what.  When in doubt, what could be better than costume deliciousness?

Two months ago (has it been two months already!) I shared with you the first piece of Karen’s gift.

If anything, I love this piece even more, though it’s hard to pick between two such glorious items!

Velvet dress by Miss Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

This velvet dress dates from the mid 20s, and bears a label with the name Mrs Marina Downing, 22 East Sixty-Fifth St, New York.  Presumably Mrs Downing was the dressmaker.

Velvet dress by Miss Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

The dress is primarily in petrol blue silk velvet (be still my heart!) with flashes of cerise pink silk satin around the neck and in the hip trim.

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

How fabulous!

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

There is simple metallic embroidery around the neck, down the left side, and around the hem.  It’s just another touch of detail and handiwork  on the frock, and lends a nice shock of coarseness and permanency to a garment that could otherwise look too sweet and delicate.  It’s like an amuse bouche for the dress.

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

The dropped waist is highlighted with a wide beaded band with little ribbonwork pansies

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

There is also another bunch of ribbon flowers sewn to the skirt, but the workmanship is very inferior, and the placement quite random, so I suspect it was a later addition to hide a spot or hole (which you can possibly see in the twist of the stem)

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

The asymmetry of the dress is further highlighted with rows of piping down the proper left side, with the same subtle metallic embroidery that highlights the neckline and the layers of hem.

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

The dress fastening is hidden under the left-side piping.  You unhook the shoulder:

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

And open up the side, revealing the lining of ivory silk tissue and silk crepe de chine, and the support layers of silk net:

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

A wide band of silk petersham (with the dressmakers label) fastens around the hips, supporting the weight of the skirt.  It’s covered by the lining, fastening with domes (snaps).

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Then the hip swag wraps over it all, and fastens with more domes, further disguising the closure from the outside.

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

It’s a classic example of the subtle, hidden closures that were used high-end clothes in the first quarter of the 20th century, before zip fastenings became common.

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

The whole dress just makes my heart happy, both from an aesthetic viewpoint, and from a dressmaker and historian viewpoint.  Such exquisite workmanship!  So many well-thought out details!  And those colours!

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Velvet dress by Mrs Martina Downing, mid 1920s thedreamstress.com

Historical Sew Fortnightly 2015? Let’s talk about it

So, that time of year has come.  We’re almost at the end of HSF 2014, and are thinking about the new years sewing.  People have been asking if there will be a HSF 2015.

The answer is, I don’t know.

I’m tired.

Running the HSF is a lot of work.  There is the stuff on my page: writing the challenges, the page, answering questions.  Writing inspiration posts.  Organizing voting for the HSF Choice Challenge.  Favourites posts (which I am ridiculously behind on).  Just compiling the list of contributors takes hours and hours – and then half of the list turns out to be bloggers  who do one project and then loose interest. And then there is the Facebook group: keeping spammers out, folders and events up, and information updated in the files.  Plus the occasional squabble.  The only reason I’ve survived the FB page at all is the fantastic  Sarah of A Most Peculiar Mademoiselle  and equally fantastic Elizabeth of Sewing & Sightseeing, who have been co-moderating.  

All of these things mean I’m not writing posts I really want to write (like Terminology posts), and not sewing things I really want to sew (like 14th century, and a robe de cour).  And not spending time with my husband and doing up our house.

So I’m a little exhausted, and a little disillusioned.  I can see why Mena just abandoned the Sew Weekly after three years.  You burn out.

On the other hand, there are lots of amazing things that have come out of the HSF.  Fabulous creations, wonderful people, knowledge…

And there are  still challenges that I want to do.

So here are some questions:

Do you want a HSF ’15?  Are you committed  to throwing yourself into another year of challenges and sewing?

What did you like about HSF ’14 (or HSF ’13), and what would you like to be different in HSF ’15?

How could  the HSF be changed to make it easier and less time consuming for me?