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Rate the Dress: 1860’s wrapper

Last week I posted a 1920s takes on 18th century dress that was a robe, that was a take on robes.  With the exception of two of you who found it whimsical, you were not impressed.  The consensus was that are good ways to do historicism, and good ways to do robe de styles, and that poor frock was neither, from the colours to the mash of details.  The only things you liked were the reticule, and (perhaps) the embellishment.  It rated a truly abysmal 2.4 out of 10.

This week I’m avoiding historicism, and looking at the other kind of robes: a wrapper, the pre-cursor to the modern bathrobe.  This wool wrapper from the 1860s is all modernism.  Well, 1860s modernism, borrowing elements from very avant garde Eastern textiles, using the latest prints, and the latest colours with its striking combination or orange, black, pink gold and distinctive quilted teal trim.

Wool paisley wrapper, c. 1860s

Wool paisley wrapper, c. 1860s

What do you think?  Cozy and cutting edge, with a nice nod to China in the trim and frog fastenings and classicism in the print of the fabric?  Or another mish-mash of colours and trims and inspiration?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

(And, once again this week I am throwing myself at your mercy as amazing internet sleuths.  Where does this image come from?  All I’ve been able to come up with is pinterest, which links to tumblr (and not even an individual tumblr site, just tumblr.com), and other searches only come up with spam sites that make me very grumpy indeed.  I would love to be able to provide a proper link to its original museum!)

Robe a la Uh-Oh

First of all, thank you to everyone for your kind words in response to Friday’s post.  I wanted to respond to them individually, but have been having trouble with this site’s server being down, so haven’t been able to.  We really are fine, everyone is fine, just stressed and worried.  We’re still so lucky compared to Christchurch (even after only the 2010 quake) because Wellington was built to be earthquake safe, and there has been so little damage that life can go on.  You can go to museums, the theatre, an offbeat movie, cafes and restaurants, cute shops, to just escape for a bit.  So much of that got destroyed in Christchurch that friends in the city told me it was really hard to have a normal life around the quakes, and to get any relief from the after-effects.  I just needed to release a little tension, and then I could go on.  One blog post and I’m fixed.  What a privilege.  My heart goes out to the small town of Seddon right now, where the quake was centred.  They have much more damage.  As Karen said, kia kaha (stand strong).

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This fortnight’s challenge in the Historical Sew Fortnightly is Robes and Robings.  

I picked the theme.  I set the date.  I picked it in part because I thought it was interesting to watch how the basic robe shape has been interpreted and used over centuries, and because it amuses me (in a peculiarly intellectual way) that ‘robe’ is used as a generic term for ‘gown’ in French, in the same way that ‘kimono’ literally means ‘thing to wear’ in Japanese (more or less, in both cases, as much as you can explain in one sentence).  I also picked it because making a ca. 1760 robe  Ã   la française  has been on my to-do list for over two years, and the fabric has been sitting there for that long too.

So I planned for this challenge months in advance, got my petticoat done for an earlier challenge, and had this idea that I’d do lighter projects for the challenges before it, so I could be working on the Robe in the run-up to this one.

Yeah.  That totally didn’t happen.  Somehow all my other challenges always took too long, I always had too much to do, I took on commissions (even though I’m not technically taking commissions) because previous clients who I loved working with asked me too, and their projects sounded so interesting (I’m a sucker for a pretty idea).  And when I hurt my back I couldn’t put on stays to do a fitting of the lining, putting the whole project on hold.

So it’s almost a week into the fortnight, and I’ve done barely anything.  And it’s supposed to be a completely hand-sewn robe  Ã   la française.  Ergh.

On Friday I had a bit of a panic, and an assessment of what the heck I was going to do.  Work on the  robe  Ã   la française,  knowing I haven’t a hope of getting it done on time?  Try to whip up a Regency evening robe, because its a bit more do-able in a week?  Come up with some ’20s or ’30s kimono inspired robe, which would only take me a day?  Pull-apart and re-do the 1900 tea gown, which needs it?  Try to scramble up some other project?

Ultimately, I decided to do the  robe  Ã   la française,  because it’s what really needs doing, and it will just be another UFO if I don’t.  Better late than a UFO or an unnecessary!

So, on Friday eve, after things had finally settled down from the quake, and while Mr D was out checking on his brothers, I gritted my teeth and took some painkillers and laced myself into my commercial stays.  The are the only ones I can get into on my own because, being hugely inaccurate in many ways, they have a front busk.  They are also horridly un-comfortable.  Properly fitted stays are a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

Still, inaccurate busk aside, the stays give me a reasonably accurate enough shape to fit a  française  lining that I had drafted a week earlier over:

ca. 1760 Robe a la Francaise toile thedreamstress.com

And this is what I look like without any makeup.  

Oooh I’m good!  Look at that!  Not a wrinkle!  (except the ones cause by a crappy pin job, and the cords from my stays wrapped around my waist etc.

ca. 1760 Robe a la Francaise toile thedreamstress.com

Weird bump on back being cause by poorly laced stays, not me or the toile.  

I’m going to widen the neckline/narrow the straps a teeny bit, which will also allow me to make the stomacher area a little more of a wide V, instead of being so skinny at the top.  Otherwise I’m good to go.

So…what’s my best case scenario for getting this done?

Saturday: Hand sew lining, work lacing holes for lining back (done!)

Sunday: Pleat on back pleats, and sew them down.

Monday: Sew skirt side seams

Tuesday: Drape and cut front, sewing robings and front fixings

Wednesday: pleat side-pleats, sew side-seams in place.

Thursday: Lots and lots and lots (and lots) of hemming

Friday: Drape and fit sleeves

Saturday: Sew sleeves

Sunday: Set sleeves to body

Monday: Make stomacher and trim, sew on all trim (yeah right).

OK, so it’s not going to get done, done, because the trim is at least a week’s work.  But maybe, if I’m very lucky and industrious I can get the basic body of the robe constructed in just over a week.  The trim won’t be done, but if everything else is, I’ll be darn pleased with myself.

Of course, I also have to finish a commission, teach 4 sewing classes, give 6 hours of lectures, start marking exams and papers, teach children’s classes, have a life, kiss Mr D, cuddle Fiss & not kill myself.

We’ll see how this goes…

Shake city

There have been two earthquakes that measured over 6.5 on the Richter scale in Wellington in the last month.

The first one hit on Sunday evening July 21.  I was making dinner.  Mr D had just gone out to pick up his brothers for family dinner at our place.  I’d put rice on, chopped some vegetables, and then went to the bathrooms to wash my hands.  As I walked out, the earthquake started, and since it seemed pretty big, I stopped in the doorway and held on.  Standing there, I saw the only piece of damage in our house happen: the last embroidery hoop on a whole stack stuck on a nail in the wall fell off.

When it ended I thought “Hmmm…I think that was the biggest quake I’ve ever felt.”

Felicity bounded through the cat door, ears back and hair raised.  She’d never shown the slightest concern at any earthquake previously.

Still, I went on with my day, pretty unconcerned.  Then the in-laws called to check if we were OK, and asked if I’d managed to get ahold of Mr D.

Oops.  I hadn’t even thought to check.  Bad wife moment.

(aftershock as I write this.  I’m guessing 5.2)

Still, he called on my cell just as I was talking on the other phone, and was fine.  We had our family dinner, watching the news reports of shattered windows and a few fires, but luckily, no serious damage or injury.  A few buildings were shut down, and people camped with friends.

It didn’t stop shaking.  There were small aftershocks over the next weeks.  Instead of “Rain dying out in afternoon” or “Strong Northwesterlies” or “Scattered showers” the Dominion Post newspaper wrote in their daily weather section “Who cares, as long as it stops shaking.”

Some of us shrugged it off.  Some of it got a little tense and irritable.  Some, those who had lived through Christchurches quakes, or lost friends and family in them, or were not used to earthquakes, were very affected.

It hasn’t been too bad for me.  I’ve lived with earthquakes all my life.  Hawaii has active volcanos: earthquakes, usually small and minor, are not uncommon.  I went to university in the San Francisco Bay Area.  Earthquakes happened.

(tiny aftershock)

Still, they get on your nerves after a while.  You worry.  Will there be a big one?  After Christchurch, we’re apprehensive.  They survived the first, despite all the damage.  It was the second that killed people.  I was there between the two.

The second hit this afternoon.  It was 6.6.  Shallow.  I didn’t even feel it.  I’d just gotten in the car on my way to an appointment for my back.  I must have just started the car, or been turning, and missed the shaking.  It wasn’t until someone started signaling traffic and pulling us over that I realised something had happened.  I figured they were exaggerating (after all, I’d felt NOTHING), so I continued to head into town.

The CBD was strange.  Crowds of people outside.  Everyone on their cellphone.  And then the sirens started, and the traffic began to get heavy.  I managed to park.  Got a text from my appointment, but didn’t quite understand it.  I went to the building.  Lifts were down.  Climbed 7 flights of stairs.  All the offices were closed.  I stood there for a moment.  An aftershock hit.  I GOT OUT.  Even a tiny aftershock 7 flights up in a not particularly safe building on the reclaimed land of the CBD wasn’t fun.

Seven flights down, and I couldn’t tell if my weak legs were from the stairs or the quake.  I tried to get ahold of Mr D.  Network was down.  Got a cocoa at a cafe that was still open (thank you!).  Watched the crowds of people.  More sirens.  Mad traffic.  Got texts from Mr D.  Was he leaving work?  Yes, no maybe…

(tiny aftershock…getting stronger…wow…this is long….finally over.  Probably 4.7)

Went out to the street, to wait away from buildings.  Ran into brother-in-law.  Invited him over for dinner – I was pretty sure at this point no students would want to come to my evening class, so I’d have to cancel.  Our house would be safer than his apartment.

Mr D finally showed up, and we fought our way through traffic.  40 minutes for what would usually take me less than 15.  More aftershocks as we drove.  I saw a woman driving, her cheeks wet with tears.  I hope she’s OK.

We’re all sitting in the lounge now, watching the news as dinner cooks.  I’m writing, documenting aftershocks as they happen.  There has been damage in Seddon, where the quake was centred, but Wellington, despite all the aftershocks is OK.

I hope this is the last. I hope this is over.  I’m worried now.  There was a documentary on TV about New Zealand’s other big earthquake, in Napier in 1931.  My neck hurts and I’m tense.  I don’t want it to shake anymore.  I don’t want anyone to be hurt.

(tiny aftershock).