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Tutorial: How to sew flat lining

One of my favourite sewing techniques is flat lining.

Flat lining is used extensively in historical (particularly 19th century) sewing and couture sewing, but it’s a technique that is not frequently taught or used in modern sewing books or patterns, which is a pity, because it’s awesome, and opens up many possibilities for design techniques and fabric use.  I used it to make thin, flimsy fabrics strong enough to make corsets and jackets out of, and to make bodices that shape and hide squish without adding bulk and weight.

Though the terms are sometimes used interchangeably, flat lining is not quite the same thing as interlining.  These days (according to Shaeffer’s Sewing for the Apparel Industry) interlining is used to mean the same thing to as interfacing, whereas flat lining is an underlining, and is never fused.  According to the Singer Sewing Book interlining is meant to add warmth and bulk, while flat lining or interfacings adds strength and support, but bulk and warmth should be avoided.

When picking a flat lining fabric, pick a fabric that, when it is combined with your outer fabric, will have all the qualities that you want the finished piece to have.  The best flat lining fabrics are very strong for their weight/bulk, and very stable.

If you want a to add strength to a thin silk for a summer wedding dress, while keeping it light and cool, flat line with silk organza.  If you need to stabilise a ‘squidgy’ and moveable piece of fabric (one with a high sheer rate) pick a very stable, but thin fabric.  Coutil can be used as the flat lining to an attractive but not-strong-enough-for-corsetmaking fashion fabric, so that you can make a corset out of the fashion fabric.  If your outer fabric is strong and stable on its own, but you still want a layer of fabric between your outer and you without a traditional lining, a soft, fine muslin/calico is ideal

Victorian bodices, from Worth creations to those made by humble local dresmakers, are almost always flat lined.  One of the most common flat-lining materials seen in Victorian bodices is a thin crisp-but-soft polished cotton, often in an unbleached brown:

Bodice of Yellow Silk Crepe and Brown Velvet with Embroidery, 1897-8, Antique Textile

Bodice of Yellow Silk Crepe and Brown Velvet with Embroidery, 1897-8, Antique Textile

There are also many examples flat lined in what is essentially a fine, soft cotton muslin, and many examples flat-lined in silk – usually a thin taffeta.

Dress of French Blue with Wide Gray Stripes Silk Taffeta with Two Bodices C 1860, via eBay

Dress of French Blue with Wide Gray Stripes Silk Taffeta with Two Bodices C 1860, via eBay

Emily's dress (bodice detail), 1903, Te Manawa Museum

Emily’s dress (bodice detail), silk with cotton lining, 1903, Te Manawa Arts & Cultural Centre

For my example of how to flat-line, I’ll be flat lining the bodice of Rowena’s 1840s evening gown.  Because Rowena needed to wear the bodice without a corset, I used a very strong, very stiff flat lining of cotton, to add as much shape and support as possible to the silk of the gown.

So how do you flat line?  It’s really simple.  Basically you are just sewing your outer fashion fabric to your flat lining pieces, so that they become one piece of fabric.

First, cut out your flat lining pieces the same as your outer pieces.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Pin each piece of your flat lining to the corresponding piece of your fashion fabric, WRONG sides together:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

You want to smooth out your pieces and make sure that they fit exactly, with no possible folds or bubbles.  Sometimes I iron the pieces and pin as I iron to ensure that they match perfectly.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Once you are pinned, sew around all of the outsides of your pinned together flat lining and pattern pieces.  I use a slightly-longer-than-normal stitch (3 rather than 2.2-2.5), and a 1cm seam allowance.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

When I come to corners, I just sink my needle, lift the foot, turn, put the foot down again and keep sewing.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Here is my front bodice piece, with the silk now firmly sewed to the flat-lining.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Of course, my bodice front has darts in it.  How do I manage to catch both layers of fabric when I sew those in?

First, mark your dart placement.  I’ve used green transfer paper and and a rolling maker to mark it into my flat-lining:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com
Then, using your slight-longer-than-normal stitch length, sew a line of stitching just inside the line of your dart, through both layers of fabric.  At the top point, sink your needle, lift your foot, and pivot the fabric, so that you can sew back down the other side of the dart.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

You can see clearly in this photo how the line of my stitch is just inside the marked line of the dart:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

And here is what the sewn-in lines of stitching that mark the dart and hold the two layers of fabric together look like from the outside:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

And the inside:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Now, carefully matching both sides of the dart, pin your dart together:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Using a normal (2.2-2.5) stitch length, stitch your dart, stitching directly on to your marked-on dart line, which will be just to the outside of the line you sewed around the dart.

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

Here are the two lines of stitching – the lower one is the initial stitching line around the outline of the dart, the upper one is the actual stitching line that holds the dart together.
How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

And here is what the dart looks like from the outside.  Both layers of fabric caught perfectly, no lines of stitching visible!

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

And here are the darts from the inside:

How to flat line a garment thedreamstress.com

 

The rest of the flat-lined pieces were then stitched together, just as if they were only the outer piece of fabric.

With modern sewing, the raw edges visible on the inside can be finished in any way you want: hong-kong seams, overlocking, zig-zag stitching, pinking, etc.  In 19th century sewing, I’ve seen examples of hong-kong seams (though I’m sure they weren’t called that in-period!), pinked seams, seams that were left raw, and, most frequently, seams neatened with hand-stitching.

Emily's dress (bodice detail), 1903, Te Manawa Museum

Emily’s dress (bodice detail of hand-stitched seam neatening), 1903, Te Manawa Arts & Cultural Centre

And here is the finished project:

 

1840s inspired evening dress thedreamstress.com

 

1840s inspired evening dress thedreamstress.com

 

It’s not the same as wearing a bodice over a corset, but the flat lining does help to add support and structure.  If I were making a more period-accurate 1840s bodice, I’d still use a flat lining, but I’d use a much lighter, softer flat lining, as the corset would provide a shape for it to sit over.

I hope that was understandable, and useful!

 

Rate the Dress: ’20s geometry & lace

Last week the initial reactions to Princess Wilhelmina’s green and pink brunswick were so positive that I thought for a while that we might set a new rating record for an 18th century dress.  And then the naysayers arrived and compared it to duvets and watermelons.  Personally, I think looking like a watermelon can only improve anything, but the variety of tastes is what make the design world such a wonderful thing!  So, with a few less-than-enthusiasts about green and pink and watermelons and hoods and growing things, Wilhemina only came in at 8.6 out of 10, which is still very good!

Since I’m on a ’20s kick, this week’s Rate the Dress is a green ’20s number.  You may even recognise it from my ‘Green’ inspiration post.

Chiffon & lace dress, French, c.1923, from the Vintage Textile archives

Chiffon & lace dress, French, c.1923, from the Vintage Textile archives

I think this dress is interesting because ’20s frocks are usually geometric, or lacy, not both together.  This frock combines the two, and uses the striking latticework applique to emphasise the lack of body shaping fashionable in the mid-20s.

What do you think?  Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10.

Thinking green: a mid-1920s evening gown

For the HSF ‘Green’ challenge, I’m keeping it simple, and making a mid-1920s evening gown out of some fantastic dark jade & ecru silk that I bought over four years ago, and have been waiting for the opportunity to make up ever since.

Dufy inspired fabric thedreamstress.com

 

Dufy inspired fabric thedreamstress.com

The silk is a heavier habotai, and it instantly reminded of the fabulous textile that Raol Dufy designed for Paul Poiret’s 1911 ‘La Perse’ coat:

'La Perse' coat, Paul Poiret  (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Textile by Raoul Dufy (French, Le Havre 1877—1953 Forcalquier), 1911, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2005.199

‘La Perse’ coat, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Textile by Raoul Dufy (French, Le Havre 1877—1953 Forcalquier), 1911, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2005.199

'La Perse' coat, Paul Poiret  (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Textile by Raoul Dufy (French, Le Havre 1877—1953 Forcalquier), 1911, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2005.199

‘La Perse’ coat, Paul Poiret (French, Paris 1879—1944 Paris) Textile by Raoul Dufy (French, Le Havre 1877—1953 Forcalquier), 1911, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2005.199

'La Perse', 1911, Paul Poiret, fabric design by Raoul Dufy

‘La Perse’, 1911, Paul Poiret, fabric design by Raoul Dufy

Dufy’s design was printed on cotton velvet, rather than silk habotai, and is over decade earlier than the date I’m aiming for with my dress.  However, there is evidence of similar prints in later ’20s fashion.

This Lanvin dress is made from warp-printed silk taffeta.  The fabric is a bit ‘sweeter’ than my print, and so is the cut of the dress.  I think my fabric needs a slightly more sophisticated, slinkier cut to show it off to its best advantage.

Evening dress, Jeanne Lanvin, mid 1920s, Drexel CC

Evening dress, Jeanne Lanvin, mid 1920s, Drexel Costume Collection

Not quite this sophisticated and slinky though:

Fashion place, 1923

Fashion plate, 1923

This has distinct possibilities:

Evening dress, House of Worth  (French, 1858—1956), Designer - Jean-Charles Worth (French, 1881—1962), ca. 1925, French, silk, metal, Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2009.300.2116

Evening dress, House of Worth (French, 1858—1956), Designer – Jean-Charles Worth (French, 1881—1962), ca. 1925, French, silk, metal, Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2009.300.2116

As does this:

Evening dress, 1926-1928, Drecoll, Maggy Rouff, Smithsonian

Evening dress, 1926-1928, Drecoll, Maggy Rouff, National Museum of American History

I’m can’t find an exact example of the idea in my head for my dress, but I know what I’m going to do.  I’ll be using my basic 1920s block and the Vionnet ‘Chiton’ dress variants I’ve played with  to draft the design.  As long as I can keep from getting trapped in my own brain, it should be easy.  It’s that brain part that’s always the hardest though…

For now, I’m just working on deciding which bit of kimono silk to use for my under-slip!

Dufy inspired fabric thedreamstress.com