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Tips and tricks for hand-sewing (historical and otherwise)

A lot of people are astonished when the hear that I sew entire 18th century garments by hand, and mention that they find handsewing hard and intimidating.  Here are 5 quick tricks to make it a lot easier – whether you are hand-sewing your own elaborate historical garment, or just sewing on a button or mending a tiny seam.

Hand sewing on the hoop channels on my paniers

Hand sewing on the hoop channels on my paniers

1. Use good needles (and the right kind).  

There are different qualities of needles, and different types of needles, and it’s important to have the best quality needles you can afford, and to use the right type the type of sewing and the type of thread you are using.

Yes, a packet of good, high-quality needles can cost you up to $9, whereas the bargain store have  them for $1, but the last time a student brought in bargain needles to a class of mine we ended up tossing the whole packet because they were all blunt (really blunt.  The tip of each was FLAT).  You may spend more money initially to buy really good needles, but if you take care of them, they will last much longer, and save you money on needles, fabric, and thread in the long run.  I have a whole stash of beautiful, high quality vintage needles thanks to Nana, but for modern needles J James are great, and Mrs C raves about Piecemakers.

Different types of vintage Flora McDonald needles

Different types of vintage Flora McDonald needles

A needle with a blunt or snagged tip will catch on your fabric, causing pulls, and it will take you more effort to push it through the fabric.  A needle with a ragged or too-small eye will wear and cut at your thread, causing it to fray and break – costing you time, money, and finish on your sewing.  Good needles will save you so much time and effort when sewing, and will be much better for your fabric and thread.

Use a needle that has an eye just big enough to comfortably hold your thread, without it having to squash through the hole, or without a lot of slipping.    A finer, thinner needle will slide through fabric more easily – so generally the finer the better as long as it isn’t squashing the thread.  Get a threader if you have trouble threading the needle.

Needles do come labeled with their recommended use, but I use that more as a guide than a rule.

2. Use good thread (and the right kind).

A good quality thread will make a huge difference in the ease and durability of hand sewing.  A poor quality thread will be fuzzy and prone to knotting, breakage and fraying as you sew with it, and more likely to break when the item is worn and used.

When handsewing (and machine sewing) I use like for like threads: cotton for cotton, linen for linen, silk or fine polyester for silk, polyester for synthetics (though I rarely hand sew synthetics, or hand sew with synthetic thread), and cotton for wool (though I have use strands of wool thread pulled from the fabric itself for some wool sewing, such as my pallas and stola).

The type of thread will affect the weight of the thread, but there are also different weights within types of thread: finer for basic sewing, heavy twist for extra strong sewing and buttons.

Different weights of vintage thread

Different weights of vintage thread

As I have discussed before, I regularly use vintage thread, and find that as long as it was good quality thread to start with, it works every bit as well as new thread of the same quality and type.  For modern threads, I like Gutterman and Mettler threads equally.  Coats and Clark I find quite inferior.

A selection of beautiful vintage threads

A selection of beautiful vintage threads

3. Wax your thread.

Waxing smoothes down the fluff of your thread, and glosses over the twist, helping it to slide through the fabric more easily.  It also keeps the thread from kinking and knotting.  It’s particularly important when working with linen and cotton threads.

My bee patterned beeswax

My bee patterned beeswax

A cake of wax is very cheap (mine was $3.50) and can last for decades.  As an added bonus, mine is pretty, and smells like honey, so just picking it up and using it makes me happier.

Drawing my thread through the edge of my wax cake to wax it

Drawing my thread through the edge of my wax cake to wax it

4. Learn to use a thimble.

If you’ve tried using a thimble once you probably found it horrible and awkward, and left off using one.  That’s what I did (despite having worked with a traditionally trained tailor and seeing the amazing things he did with a thimble) until I started hand sewing so much that I was regularly wearing holes in the pads of my fingers – and consequently bleeding on my fabric, or wearing holes through my thumbnail from pushing.  So, out of desperation I took up thimbles again, persevered until I had learned how to use one, and let me tell you, they are amazing.  They protect my fingers from stabs and wear holes, and cut down on arm strain.

As with needles and thread, having a good quality one, and the right one for how you sew, is the key.  I don’t have any quick answers to what is the right one: for me it was a matter of trial and error, feeling which thimble fit, which I could use to push the needle through best, which protected my finger, and which finger to wear it on.  I don’t always wear them on the same finger, and sometimes I sew wearing as many as four thimbles at once.

5. Don’t think you need to know a bunch of fancy stitches!

You only need to know 3 stitches (well, 3.5, since there is a forth that is a combination of the first two) to do most historical (pre-sewing machine) hand stitching: the running stitch, the backstitch, and the whipstitch.  The most common stitch of all (stitch 3.5) is the running-backstitch – 6 to 10 running stitches, one backstitch, and on you go.  It’s stronger than the running stitch, but not as labour intensive as the backstitch.  I’m not going to do tutorials because there are dozens on the internet already – you can have fun with google and youtube and find one that makes sense to you.

Running backstitches on the bodice of the 1813 Kashmiri dress, backstitches hold the skirt on

Running backstitches on the vertical bodice seam of the 1813 Kashmiri dress, backstitches hold the  heavy skirt on

Whipstitched rolled hem

Whipstitched rolled hem

Teeny-tiny whipstitches on the lining of Ninon's bodice

Teeny-tiny whipstitches on the lining of Ninon’s bodice, large running stitches (basting) hold the un-bound edges together

Other than practice, those are the things that I find make hand-sewing fast, easy and angst-free.  I hope they help your hand-sewing, and if you have any other tips please do share!

Accessorizing

The Accessorize challenge is coming up on the Historical Sew Fortnightly, and there is so much choice when it comes to what to make.  So many beautiful period accessories, so many periods!

These are just a few of the items that are at the top of my ‘need an excuse to make this’ list.

First off, every girl needs a beautiful fan.  I collect vintage fans – I should show you my collection.  I also aim to make fans.  I have hundreds I love, but one particular favourite is this spangled mid-19th century beauty.  It has Greek key motifs around the brim!

Fan, 1850—60, American (probably), silk, tortoiseshell, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Fan, 1850—60, American (probably), silk, tortoiseshell, Metropolitan Museum of Art

As you have probably realised, I’m a bit of a shoe aficionado, but there are certain pairs that just make my heart go pitter-patter with adoration. Like these:

Pair of unfinished women's shoes, Italian, 1605—10, MFA Boston

Pair of unfinished women’s shoes, Italian, 1605—10, MFA Boston

Oh happiness in shoe form!  I’ve looked into Regency sandals, but before these I hadn’t realised there might be early 17th century sandals.  I want to know more about them, and I want to make them, and I don’t think the latter is entirely beyond the scope of my skills.

I must have a thing for punched leather shoes in particular, because this 14th century pair also makes me swoon (and they would also be perfect for the Flora & Fauna challenge):

Leather shoe with punchwork and bird decoration, Dutch (Haarlem), c. 1300-1350

Leather shoe with punchwork and bird decoration, Dutch (Haarlem), c. 1300-1350

As a seamstress, I’m fascinated by historical work-bags.  I have this fantasy that one day I’ll have time to make myself one.  I particularly like Marie Kundegunde’s diamond patterned (or is it mesh?) workbag.  Her triple layer engageates are pretty divine as well – and technically they are an accessory too, since they would be pinned on and taken off.

Pietro Rotari (1707—1762) Portrait of Marie Kunigunde of Saxony (1740-1826), Abbess of Thorn and Essen, daughter of Augustus III of Poland, circa 1755

Pietro Rotari (1707—1762) Portrait of Marie Kunigunde of Saxony (1740-1826), Abbess of Thorn and Essen, daughter of Augustus III of Poland, circa 1755

I don’t usually care for fruit patterned 20th century items, because the ‘vintage cherries’ trope is so over-done, but 18th century strawberry shoes?  Squee!  I don’t know if I’d ever have the patience to do the needlework to make my own pair (is it queen stitch?) but the right strawberry patterned fabric perhaps?  Or painted?  Like the bird shoes, these would also be fabulous for the Flora and Fauna challenge.

Shoes worked with strawberries 1760-1770, Hampshire City Council museum

Shoes worked with strawberries 1760-1770, Hampshire City Council museum

These first-decade of the 19th century gloves just make me swoon with delight.  I want to figure out how to print on kid so I can make my own!  Or perhaps just draw them by hand?  The figures at the top are from a series of prints of Hunchbacks – not very PC!

Gloves, 1800—1810, Spanish, leather, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Gloves, 1800—1810, Spanish, leather, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Some accessories I just drool over and know I can’t every really have (like the gloves above), others are more direct inspiration.  I want to make this bonnet, and the whole outfit that would go with it.  Just need to find my own luscious emerald green velvet…

Bonnet, 1830's, Made of velvet, Kerry Taylor Auctions

Bonnet, late 1830s-early 1840s, silk velvet, Kerry Taylor Auctions

Even easier is this darling 1870’s straw top hat.  I’ve been remodelling a lot of modern straw hats lately, and it’s surprisingly easy (I’ll be doing a few tutorials).  The trimmings really make this one.

Hat, ca. 1879 American straw, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Hat, ca. 1879 American straw, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art

I also like accessories that could be worn with modern clothes.  This chic quilted shawl is like the 19th century version of my Capelet of Yay, and I bet I’d wear it just as much!

Quilted silk shawl, mid-19th century. Charleston Museum

Quilted silk shawl, mid-19th century. Charleston Museum

And finally, the award for the most fascinating and creepiest accessory ever goes to Bianca Anguisola, for her taxidermied/jewelled rodent/pig chatelaine.  Seriously, what is that thing?  And if I want one, is that wrong?

Sofonisba Anguissola (1530—1625), Portrait of Bianca Ponzoni Anguissola, the artist's mother, 1557

Sofonisba Anguissola (1530—1625), Portrait of Bianca Ponzoni Anguissola, the artist’s mother, 1557

 

Bathing beauties of 1906 from the Girls Own Paper

Are you thinking ahead to the ‘By the Sea’ challenge for the Historical Sew Fortnightly? I certainly am!

I’d love to make a full, ridiculous, Edwardian or Victorian bathing costume, or a Regency chemise for sea bathing at Bath or Brighton, but I feel I ought to make something late ’20s or early ’30s, because it’s been on my to-do list for over a year (for two Art Deco Weekends), and (more importantly) I already have the fabric.  So I should probably be good, and do that, and save the super silliness for later.

But, oh, the temptation!

My desire for silly turn-of-the-century bathers is further fueled by this delight from the collection of 1906 Girls Own Papers I just bought.  Look at these bathing belles:

What to wear by the sea, 1906, Girls Own Paper

How a girl should dress for the sea, 1906, Girl’s Own Paper

Aren’t those bathing frocks fabulous?  I’m particularly taken with the model who is bending over to adjust her hem.  I love the petal sleeves, and the simpler, shaped rather than gathered, skirt.  The spotty kerchief is pretty cute too.  And the images are fantastically detailed.  The lone maiden with her rope to cling on to, so that she can venture out into a rough sea more safely (growing up in Hawaii I was fascinated to read of people swimming with ropes – it’s such a foreign concept in the sheltered tropical waters I was used to).  The bathing carriages that persisted into the 20th century for the more modest bathers in the background of the larger image.  And the damsel in the light-coloured suit with her net.  What was she hoping to catch?

I’ve been reading Sarah Kennedy’s Vintage Swimwear:  A History of Twentieth-Century Fashions, and it’s driving me absolutely barmy. She identifies every single one of her early 20th century bathing images as showing ‘extreme’ or ‘immodest’ fashion, due to the leg exposure, or the arm exposure, or the lack of stockings.  If so, why only show these images?  How can it be a history if it only presents an extreme side of the story?  Some of the images show costumes every bit as covered up as the ones in the fashion sketch above, and since the Girl’s Own Paper was a very conservative, religious, moral publication, one can assume that the bathing costumes they suggest would be quite proper.  In addition, informal early 20th century beach photography (not the posed glamour shots she presents) show that most people actually wore far less to the beach than the glamour images.  Out of the city centers, and away from beaches with morality laws, men and women bathed together with bare feet, and in very simple garments.  Yes, there were beaches with morality laws, but the very fact that they were written about makes them the exception, not the rule.

And she goes on and on about the drowning deaths that were caused by the heavy bathing costumes, without being able to identify a single case.  Yes, early 20th century swimsuit reform campaigners cited them as a reason to ditch the heavy wool gowns, but early corset reformers cited all the deaths from corsets, and we haven’t been able to identify a single confirmed case of death-by-corsetry  (on the other hand, there are at least two cases in New Zealand alone where corsets saved women’s lives when they were shot at or stabbed).

Then she talks about the practice of bathing in chemises in Regency England being so enticing that it lead women to dampen their evening gowns to imitate the effect, and we know that dampened evening gowns was something that was done in only a few instances, by only the most fast and fashion forward of women.   To repeat it is as accurate as to suggest that all women in the 2000s wore nipple-revealing bustier cups which were ripped off on a regular basis, a la Janet Jackson, or that every woman with powdered hair in the 18th century had rats and mice living in her coiffure, just since one incident was reported, once.

I hate poor research when just a little critical thinking would present a much more accurate picture.

Right.  Rant over.

Let’s look at the pretty picture again, shall we?

How a girl should dress for the sea, 1906, Girl's Own Paper

How a girl should dress for the sea, 1906, Girl’s Own Paper

Ah, happiness returns.

Update:  And yet more happiness!  Look at this amazing image that a friend shared with me after reading this post (and is graciously allowing me to share with you).  She took it in Llanbadarn church yard in Wales.  Best memorial stone ever!

Llanbadarn church yard, image courtesy of LA