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A little mending

I actually did do some mending for the Make Do & Mend HSF challenge: there has just been so much else to post that I haven’t gotten around to writing about it!

First, a little 10 minute mend.  One of the bones in my 1770s silver gilt stays was the tiniest bit too long, and had worn a hole in the kid leather binding:

1770s silver gilt stays thedreamstress.com

I unpicked that section of the binding, slipped it off the tab, pulled out the bone, cut it shorter, and smoothed it off:

1770s silver gilt stays thedreamstress.com

Then I pushed the bone back in, and used a tiny piece of leftover kid to patch the area with the hole:

1770s silver gilt stays thedreamstress.com

All that was left to do was to slip the original binding back on, and re-sew it down:

1770s silver gilt stays thedreamstress.com
The Challenge:  #1: Make Do & Mend

Fabric:  a tiny scrap of kid leather

Pattern:  My own, based on one in Jill Salens ‘Corsets’ book.

Year:  ca. 1770

Notions:  Just thread for the mending.

How historically accurate is it?  Period stays were certainly mended, but my binding technique is not the most accurate, so my mend couldn’t be accurate.

Hours to complete:  10 min

First worn: No wearing plans at the moment, but I’m sure it will get worn sooner rather than later.

The second mend was a little more complicated.  I cut the pattern wrong with my 1900s Time Lady blouse (my fault – not the patterns!) and the neck back gaped.  I solved the problem during the photoshoot by simply taking in a pleat and safety pinning it down (I know!), but I wanted a permanent solution to the problem.

1900s Time Lady blouse thedreamstress.com

So I looked at extent 1900s blouses and blouse advertisements, and found examples with pintucks running down the entire back

1900s Time Lady blouse thedreamstress.com

So I unpicked the neck finish and the back waist-tie holder, and sewed pintucks down the entire back, releasing them just above the hem, so I didn’t have to unpick that.

1900s Time Lady blouse thedreamstress.com

The neck now sits nicely and snuggly against my neck, with no gaping.  And the back as a whole is a little slimmer, which will improve the fit.

1900s Time Lady blouse thedreamstress.com

It took a good hour to do, but well worth it, and I’m so pleased it’s done!

1900s Time Lady blouse thedreamstress.com

The Challenge:  #1: Make Do & Mend

Fabric:  1.5m of circle patterned cotton broderie anglaise (for the original shirt)

Pattern:  Wearing History’s 1900-1910 Edwardian Blouse

Year:  ca. 1905

Notions:  Just thread for the mending.

How historically accurate is it?  My original blouse has some inaccuracy issues (the fabric, and the sewing techniques I used to compensate for it) but my mend is based on period examples, so is quite accurate.

Hours to complete:  1

First worn:  Not sure when I’ll wear it again, but I’m waiting for an excuse!  

Total cost:  $18

Rate the Dress: 1860s jacquard marvels

Last week I showed you a fascinating yellow frock that celebrated the innovation of simplicity: the refinement of shape, silhouette, fabric, trim, and underclothes that characterise early 19th century fashions.  Most of you were extremely impressed, and then a small group of you were completely unimpressed, and thought it boring.  I began to see one of those scenarios where the rating comes out to be something that almost none of you rated, and I was right.  8.3 out of 10 might have been the average, but it reflects how few of you felt about it personally. (and thank you to Sabine for finding the proper link to the dress)

Those of you who didn’t like it thought the yellow dress last week was just too plain, simple and austere. So this week, I’ve picked something that is a wee bit more detailed:

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

At first, all the details on this dress just look daft: mameluke sleeves (now sadly crushed) and pleated trim, bizarre circular motifs arranged in pyramids on the skirt.  The fabric looks dirty and discoloured with age, and the whole effect is just…odd.  But then you look closer, and thing get…intriguing:

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Like the fabric: a speckled brown, not dirty with age.

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

The patterns, not applique but are either jacquard woven en disposition  (specifically for this dress) or, less likely, machine embroidery.

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

Dress, ca. 1865, American, cotton, C.I.67.37.1 Metropolitan Museum of Art

One of the motifs is circular, the other flower shaped, and they demonstrate a variety of different stitches: the full spectrum of stitches/weaves available to jacquard looms and embroidery machines.  The mad details suddenly become a celebration of innovation:  the design possibilities of the new machines.  The brilliant blue trim of the bodice is also probably aniline dyed, in another nod to inventions.

Reveling in the all that is new and modern is all very well, but it doesn’t always translate into good design.  What do you make of this dress, and its trendy new innovations?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

Noir Goddess

Oh my, what a week it’s been!  Teaching and sewing, a few marathon blog posts…

Time for something fun and light.

There was a professional photographer at last years Windy Lindy Noir ball, and I posed for photos in my Hula Goddess dress.  I’ve just got the photos, and I can’t wait to show you how gorgeous my three favourites are:

Hula Goddess dress thedreamstress.com photographed by Artful Dodge photography  There was a chaise lounge!

Hula Goddess dress thedreamstress.com photographed by Artful Dodge photography

And best of all, this one, which looks so sweet and innocent, until you notice the grotesque hand shadow: how very noir!

Hula Goddess dress thedreamstress.com photographed by Artful Dodge photography

All the images are by Clive of Artful Dodge photography  (pop over to his website and have a drool – I’m particularly in love with his pet photograph: he does pigs!)