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Making an extremely exuberant 18th century petticoat

I’ve shown you the making of my Extremely Exuberant Amalia jacket.  As if the jacket wasn’t exuberant enough on its own, I decided it needed a petticoat to match.

I think everyone who makes 18th century costumes develops their own petticoat-ing method, with their favourite stitches and order of assembly.  This is how I make my late 18th century petticoats, but there are lots of variations on the idea.

Burnley & Trowbridge have an excellent video tutorial series on making a petticoat.  If you (like me) prefer reading to watching, Katherine of Koshka the Cat’s blog tutorial is a classic.

I started by cutting my skirt panels.  My fabric was 45″ wide, so I cut two full width lengths, and one 22″ wide half width, for a total hem circumference of 112”, minus seam allowances.

For 1780s I like a slightly fuller back, and a slightly smoother front.  I have no evidence for this being historically accurate, but it gives a nice silhouette, and it’s very logical when your fabric width means you have two full widths and one half width panel, as it allows you to put the pocket slits both on a seam, with one full width in front, and the second full width + half width for the back.  I also set my pocket slits slightly towards the front when I use this method – it makes it a little easier to access them.

With all the math figure out, I sewed all my skirt panels together, and finished my pocket slits.

Then it was on to hemming…

In the foreground, a hand sewing a narrow hem in floral chintz, In the background, a calico cat

Using tiny safety pins to secure my sewing has revolutionised my handsewing.  It makes it so much easier to haul big complicated projects around.  Or to sew with a cat on my lap…

In the foreground, a hand sewing a narrow hem in floral chintz, In the background, a calico cat

Hem done!

A hand holding a length of floral fabric with a hand-sewn hem

Next was figuring out the waist length, and pleating the skirt.

A hand holding a length of floral fabric with pleats secured with basting stitches

To make it easier to level the hem and attach the waist tape I secured the pleats with diagonal basting stitches.

A hand holding a length of floral fabric with pleats secured with basting stitches

I loooooove sewing diagonal basting stitches and sometimes get a bit carried away at this part, and do multiple rows.

A hand holding a length of floral fabric with pleats secured with basting stitches

I also get carried away with blanket stitching.  Whipped stitches would be more accurate, but blanket stitches made me happier, and it’s my skirt!

A hand holding a length of floral fabric with the raw hem edge finished with blanket stitches

In most 18th century sewing you hem first, and then level the hem from the waist.  To do this I put all my undergarments (Augusta Stays, Frances Rump, under-petticoat) on a dressform.  I put the petticoat on the dressform, and tied the waistband over it.

A detail of silver 18th century stays and a brightly coloured floral petticoat

A dressform wearing stays and a brightly coloured floral petticoat

Then with the help of vintage hem levelers I levelled the hem, carefully pulling the petticoat up under the waistband until it was perfectly level all the way around.  It’s 7″ off the floor.

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

It’s better to wear the petticoat and have someone do this, but a dressform works in a pinch, as long as it has the correct undergarments on.

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

Since I was doing this on a dressform, I basted this on the waistband, and waited until I had a proper try on to finalise it.

An extremely exuberant Amalia Jacket thedreamstress.com

All level and correct!

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

So I stitched the tape on.  The front tape is stitched on with backstitches, and then folded to the back and caught down.

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

The back tape is backstitched down on the front, folded down to the back, and whipstitched down, enclosing the raw edge in the fabric.

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

Final touch: hemming the tapes.

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

And done!

Making an 18th century petticoat to go with the Amalia Jacket, thedreamstress.com

You’ve seen photos of me wearing it at our Georgian dinner, but here’s a sneak preview of a photoshoot featuring the Amalia jacket and late 18th century petticoat:

A woman in floral patterned 18th century garb walking away from the camera along a park path

 

Rate the Dress: 1920s embroidered chintz

This week’s Rate the Dress moves away from the fitted bodices with fabric poofs of the last two, to a sleek silhouette, with visual interest provided by embroidery.

It’s an interesting garment from both a design perspective, and as a historical artefact.  I hope you enjoy discussing it!

Last week:  a 1780s gown in buttercup yellow

Reactions to last week’s yellow Italian gown were a distinct improvement on the week before.  It was described as “delightful and “a  lovely summery garment”.  A few people didn’t like it though, either for the colour, or too much poof.    And almost everyone felt that the ruffle placements on the petticoat was rather odd.

The Total: 8.1 out of 10

Good, but not brilliant.

This week: a 1920s dress with pink peonies.

This 1920s dress was worn by Australian socialite Molly Fink, whose 1915 marriage to Martanda Bhairava Tondaiman, the Raja of  Pudukkottai, caused social scandal and political censure.

The marriage challenged the British Government’s attempts to keep Indian and European colonists in India socially separate.  They refused to recongise the marriage and acknowledge Molly as Rani.  The Tondmain’s settled in Australia, and then France, and the Raja was eventually forced to renounce his position in favour of his brother.

This dress dates from the Tondmain’s time in France.  Despite being essentially forced into exile by the British government, they remained friends with a wide circle of British nobility, artists, and literary figures.  They were received by George V and Queen Mary, and socialised with siblings Cecil and Nancy Beaton as well as Elsa Maxwell and William Locke.

Molly was noted for her elegant dress, and this frock, by eminent French couturier’s Callot Soeurs, reflects her interest in fashion.

Evening dress, Callot Soeurs, ca 1925, silk satin with metal embroidery, Worn by Molly Tondaiman, the Rani of Pudukkottai, Fashion Museum Bath

Evening dress, Callot Soeurs, ca 1925, silk satin with metal embroidery, Worn by Molly Tondaiman, the Rani of Pudukkottai, Fashion Museum Bath

The dress is one of a series of frocks featuring embroidery and beading based on Chinese export garments that Callot Soeurs did in the mid-1920s.

Evening dress, Callot Soeurs, ca 1925, silk satin with metal embroidery, Worn by Molly Tondaiman, the Rani of Pudukkottai, Fashion Museum Bath

Evening dress, Callot Soeurs, ca 1925, silk satin with metal embroidery, Worn by Molly Tondaiman, the Rani of Pudukkottai, Fashion Museum Bath

While Callot Soeurs probably did not intend it, and Molly herself may not have made the link, the dress also references Indian design.  The trade in fabrics from China through India from the 16th century onward influence motifs in Indian palampore.  Motifs from  Chinese painted silks were incorporated into Indian chintzes, and both made their way to Europe Note the stylised rocky ground with lush flowers springing from it in both Molly’s dress and this 16th century palampore and the one linked above.

What do you think?  A worthy dress for a noted fashionista, with a small but subtle not to the country she was forever linked with, but could never call home?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

A reminder about rating — feel free to be critical if you don’t like a thing, but make sure that your comments aren’t actually insulting to those who do like a garment.  Phrase criticism as your opinion, rather than a flat fact. Our different tastes are what make Rate the Dress so interesting.  It’s no fun when a comment implies that anyone who doesn’t agree with it, or who would wear a garment, is totally lacking in taste.

As usual, nothing more complicated than a .5.  I also hugely appreciate it if you only do one rating, and set it on a line at the very end of your comment.

The Extant Selina Blouse – a mid-1910s blouse

The Scroop Patterns Selina Blouse is based on an extant 1910s blouse in my collection.

The Scroop Patterns Selina Blouse ScroopPatterns.com

Ruffles to Rebellion thedreamstress.com, images by http::facundo.pixieset.com/

It’s a fantastic garment for a number of reasons.

It’s a cool, quirky design that absolutely epitomises mid-19101s fashion.  It’s homemade, so represents the type of thing that a home seamstress would have made.  And finally, it has notches on the interior seams, strongly indicating that it was made from a commercial sewing pattern.

Let’s take a closer look at it!

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

It’s made from a midweight cotton with a jacquard-woven pattern of scrolling vines.

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The collar and peplum are faced in mull, a light, open-weave cotton similar to modern book-muslin.

 

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

It’s primarily machine sewn, with hand finishing on the collar binding.  The stitch balance suggests it was sewn on a vibrating shuttle machine.

 

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The front is faced with a strip of straight-grain fabric, folded to form a tuck at the angle of the front V.

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

All the interior seams were left unfinished:

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

The blouse was unfinished and when I bought it, as it had no buttons or other means of fastening.

The extant blouse the Scroop Selina Blouse is based on scrooppatterns.com

I added hooks and snaps to fasten the front (as the most sympathetic form of fastening that wouldn’t permanently alter the blouse).  The buttons on the Selina pattern are based on similar blouses seen in sewing patterns.

I wore the blouse once, very carefully, to give a talk on behalf of the Katherine Mansfield House Museum.

The original:

 

Ruffles to Rebellion thedreamstress.com, images by http::facundo.pixieset.com/

The pattern:

The Scroop Patterns Selina Blouse ScroopPatterns.com