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Rate the Dress: 18th century meets 1920s

Last week you found our unknown Spanish beauty’s stripey separates pleasant, but not inspiring, garnering the ensemble a rating of 7.3 out of 10, which was pretty much exactly what most of you rated it individually anyway.  The real interest from the Rate the Dress came in the discussions: how were her sleeves cut (very snuggly, with a curve!), was the black lace a particularly Spanish affectation, and most intriguingly, did she have a slight mustache, and if so, what did that mean about 18th century standards of beauty, that the artist had taken the care to paint it in, and our modern standards, that we noticed it as being particularly unusual?

This week’s Rate the Dress comes to you not because it particularly makes sense or inspires me, but just because I’m exhausted and super busy, and I drafted this post up a year and a bit ago, and it sort-of fits the ‘Robes and Robings’ theme.

The late teens and early 1920s saw a brief fad for 18th century inspired fashion, most notably the robe de style, supported by panniers.  Lucile’s version of the robe de style is replete with 18th century references: the square, open front bodice, the sleeve ruffles, even a reticule to match.  The soft pastels and lace patterns also evoke a rococo aesthetic, but the unfettered body is all 20th century.

I think we can all admit that the mannequin is NOT doing the dress justice, so you are just going to have to look beyond that, and imagine it on a real person.

Rate the Dress on a scale of 1 to 10

Regency sleeve mitts (more or less)

I’m doing two entries for the Historical Sew-Fortnightly ‘Separates’ challenge, and neither of them is the project I had originally planned, and started working on in week 1 of the the fortnight.

However, I’m pretty excited about my first entry, soft as it is, because it is inspired by an image that was shared on the HSF facebook page, and the ensuing discussion.

Sarah posted these knit sleeves from the collection of the Nordiska Museet:

Made of fine wool or silk, they were worn with evening dresses in the chill northern winters, to keep the wearer warm while still being elegant and fashionable, combating the problem of “Dressing in French and freezing in Danish” that Tidens Toj mentions.

I looked at these and thought how perfect they would be to go with my 1813 Kashmiri gown, which, being made of wool, is pretty warm, except for all that exposed arm and chest.  There are other examples of similar sleeves or mitts (maybe) in the Nordiska collections, and at the MFA in Boston, indicating that wearing them was reasonably common, and not confined to Scandinavia.

The big problem with these sleeves, for me, is that I don’t knit.  So I can’t make a perfect historical replica.  The sleeves, were, however, knitted flat, and then had a back seam sewn in to them, and I can get lovely, lacey, merino knit fabrics in white.

Felicity the cat thedreamstress.com

Felicity approves of merino knit.  It’s a good fabric.  She’s not that interested in letting me make something out of it though.

So I made a pair of merino knit mitts loosely inspired by Regency examples.  I originally intended for them to be sleeves, and they started out as sleeves, but they just didn’t want to sit right on my arms, so they got turned into mitts.

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves thedreamstress.com

They are super simple: two tubes, shaped slightly to the arm, with triangles sewn in to form thumb holes.  I didn’t even finish the top and bottom, because the knit pattern didn’t need it.

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves thedreamstress.com

I cut them to go all the way up to the top of my arm, so they will slip under the bottom of the short sleeves of the 1813 Kashmiri gown, and keep me warm all over when I wear it.

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves thedreamstress.com

My fabric includes a bit of elastane, so they actually stay up at the top of my arms.  I wonder how the originals stayed up.  Would they be basted to the sleeves of the dress?  Tucked under and expected to stay?  Or would the knit provide enough elasticity to stay on its own, which I rather doubt?

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves thedreamstress.com

I debated for a tiny instant as to whether these really counted as a separate, rather than just an accessory, but decided that they do: I can wear them with the Kashmiri gown, or the Madame Recamier gown, or any other Regency gown I make in the future, and significantly change the look, and make the dress trans-seasonal.

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves thedreamstress.com

Not only are they going to be perfect with my period wardrobe, but I can tell already that I’m going to make a whole set of them to wear on an everyday basis.  Just look how well they work with the Queen Celeste jacket:

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves and the Queen Celeste Roll-Collar jacket thedreamstress.com

The Challenge:  #16  ‘Separates’

Fabric:  1/2 metre of merino/nylon/elastane blend knit, $28pm at 50% off. I can get two pairs out of 1/2 a metre, so $7 a pair.

Pattern:  My own, loosely inspired by period examples

Year:  ca. 1810

Notions:  thread

How historically accurate is it?  Not very.  More inspired, but I’m not likely to get much more accurate unless I learn to knit.  20% at the best.

Hours to complete:  30 minutes.  Best HSF time yet!  And now that I have a pattern, I can whip them up in under 10.

First worn:  Sat 10 August, while doing other sewing.

Total cost:  I can get two pairs out of 1/2 a metre, so $7 a pair.

Hurrah!  I’m in love!

Regency inspired knit mitts/sleeves and the Queen Celeste Roll-Collar jacket thedreamstress.com

 

My, what an enormous padded fur or fabric hand receptacle/warmer you have

So, I originally titled this post “My, what an enormous muff you have”, a la Little Red Riding Hood, because apparently I’m on a children’s story theme this week.

Then Mr D pointed out that my title was perhaps a little more risque than I usually aim for with my blog.  After blinking at him in confusion for a very long moment, comprehension finally dawned.  Ohhhhhh….

I know I keep him around for something!

Anyway, I’ve been looking at late 18th and early 19th century fashion plates, and, thanks to my love of muffs, I’ve noticed all the absolutely enormous muffs that were in fashion in the Regency period.

I mean, look at this:

Journal des Dames et des Modes, 1797

Journal des Dames et des Modes, 1797

Her head would fit in the hand hole!

And if you thought that one was bad, look at this one:

Journal des Dames et des Modes, 1798

Journal des Dames et des Modes, 1798

Forget keeping her hands warm, if she gets cold enough she could climb into this thing wholesale, and keep warm like a little post-Revolutionary space rebel.  How did she even carry it?  It would weigh half her body weight!

Things got a tiny bit saner after 1798, but these two examples from 1799 are more than twice the size of the heads of the ladies carrying them:

London Full & Half Dress, Winter 1799

London Full & Half Dress, Winter 1799

(also, how fabulous are the two hats in the one above!)

Ladies’ Museum, Morning Dress for December, 1799.

Ladies’ Museum, Morning Dress for December, 1799

One would think that such a ridiculous trend would disappear pretty quickly, but no, here they are again in the new century:

Lady’s Magazine, London Walking Dress, March 1805

It’s like she is carrying half a sheep!

Men's & ladies fashions for 1807

Men’s & ladies fashions for 1807

(it’s taking her second hand and some help from the gentleman’s other hand to hold up the weight of all that white fur)

Amazingly, you see examples of utterly ridiculously large muffs almost until 1820:

Carriage costume, January 1817

Carriage costume, January 1817

Muff weight lifting.  How Regency ladies stayed in shape.

Now I kinda want to make one, just to see how heavy a half-body sized muff made in period appropriate fur, wool batting and fabrics would be…

(all images via Damesalamode)