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Celebrating the common man (and what he and she wore)

Next fortnight’s challenge in the Historical Sew Fortnightly is Peasants and Pioneers.  It’s all about making clothes for the lower classes – the most common group, but also the ones whose clothes were the least documented, and the least likely to to have survived.

I’ve got a serious soft spot for the clothing of the lower classes across almost all periods.  They may not be as bright or sparkly as the clothing of the upper classes, but they often managed a restraint and elegance that the fancier clothes of the wealthy and fashionable of certain periods (*cough* *cough* *Elizabethan*) were sorely lacking in.  Their practical nature quickly weeded out any cumbersome additions which made work difficult.

I think my favourite peasant outfits and images are those from medieval manuscripts and Books of Hours from the 15th century.  The details are just so clear (look at the beautiful torn and ragged sleeves on the white tunic in the first image below), and the colours so vivid, though the clothes probably weren’t so bright in real life.  Still, the bright primaries are so delicious – the pages just look like jewels.

Shepherds, 1430s

Shepherds, 1430s

Shepherds, 1450s, Belgium

Shepherds dancing, 1450s, Belgium

My  first attempt at a historical outfit  was a Flemish peasant gown, so I’m always going to feel a bit nostalgic about those.  There are so many Flemish genre paintings showing peasants (there is a nice selection here), and the area is so well researched  that it makes it a very easy entry point for Renaissance costuming.

Pieter Aertsen , c 1508-1575, Market Woman

Pieter Aertsen , c 1508-1575, Market Woman

A century later another Pieter famously portrayed peasants in a much more earthy fashion. I love his ‘Village Holiday’ and the way he has caught the dancers exuberance.  One can presume the villages would be wearing their best clothes, but its still a fantastic portrayal of lower class garments of the time.

Pieter Brueghel the Younger (1564—1638)Village Holiday

Pieter Brueghel the Younger (1564—1638) Village Holiday, ca. 1610

Just as good, if not quite as original, is the replica Pieter Bruegel the Elders Peasant Wedding Dance.  Just look at the pleats on the back of those skirts!  The codpieces though?  Not something I ever aim to make!

Pieter Brueghel the Younger or workshop (1564—1638), Peasant Wedding Dance, Replica of a lost work of Pieter Bruegel I, known from an engraving by Pieter van der Heyden, 1610

Pieter Brueghel the Younger or workshop (1564—1638), Peasant Wedding Dance, Replica of a lost work of Pieter Bruegel I, known from an engraving by Pieter van der Heyden, 1610, Louvre

Far less cheery (because really, being a peasant often wasn’t that cheery) is Le Nain’s sombre portrayal of a peasant family.  The young woman’s skirt pleats are still fabulous though!

Attributed to Louis Le Nain (1593—1648) or Antoine Le Nain (1588—1648), Family of Peasants, 1642, Louvre

Attributed to Louis Le Nain (1593—1648) or Antoine Le Nain (1588—1648), Family of Peasants, 1642, Louvre

The 18th century saw both the romaticisation of the peasant, and the peasants revolts.  Here is a bit of romaticism with just the tiniest nod to reality (Boucher, of course, never painted anything that wasn’t pretty).

Peasant Woman from Around Ferrara Edme Jeaurat (French, Vermenton 1688—1738 Paris) Artist- After François Boucher (French, Paris 1703—1770 Paris), 1734, Met

Peasant Woman from Around Ferrara Edme Jeaurat (French, Vermenton 1688—1738 Paris) Artist- After François Boucher (French, Paris 1703—1770 Paris), 1734, Metropolitan Museum of Art

If you want more 18th century working-class inspiration, Heileen has  an excellent pinterest page.

A very different glimpse of a very different type of peasantry (to use the term in its broadest sense) is given in Agostino Brunias’ depictions of life in the Caribbean in the second half of the 18th century, where he particularly focused on the interactions across the class, and racial, hierarchies.  His work is fascinating on every possible level.

Agostino Brunias Italian, ca. 1730-1796 (Italian), Free Women of Color with their Children and Servants in a Landscape, between 1764-1796, Brooklyn Museum

Agostino Brunias Italian, ca. 1730-1796 (Italian), Free Women of Color with their Children and Servants in a Landscape, between 1764-1796, Brooklyn Museum

One of my favourite working-class garments ever is the red woollen cloaks worn by country women in England throughout the 18th century, and into the mid-19th century.  In the 18th century they were apparently worn by all classes in the country, but by the 19th century the red wool cloak was almost exclusively the domain of the rural working class, and instantly signalled this in contemporary prints.   I’d be making one for this challenge if I could only find the perfect red woollen fabric.

Woollen cloak with silk lining worn in Mobberley in Cheshire by a country bride arriving for her wedding, ca 1800, Manchester City Galleries

Woollen cloak with silk lining worn in Mobberley in Cheshire by a country bride arriving for her wedding, ca 1800, Manchester City Galleries

'Country Woman' in Picturesque Representations of the Dress and Manners of the English, Murray, Mr John, W. Bulmer & Co, Manchester City Galleries

‘Country Woman’ in Picturesque Representations of the Dress and Manners of the English, Murray, Mr John, W. Bulmer & Co, Manchester City Galleries

Another traditional country garment that I adore is the English farmers smock – worn by farm workers in the south-mid England from the early 18th century into the early 20th century.  The smock, and it’s association with rural industry and a perceived ‘wholesome’ lifestyle led to the use of smocking in later 19th century Aesthetic dress.  It was the 19th century version of pastoralism and noblewomen playing at being shepherdesses

Detail of Found by Dante Gabriel Rossetti showing a shepherd wearing a smock-frock, 1850

Detail of Found by Dante Gabriel Rossetti showing a shepherd wearing a smock-frock, 1854

Also, aren’t the gaiters  in Found fabulous?

As a contrast to all the farmers gear, Francis (Frank) Meadow Sutcliff’s  documentations of the lives of the fisher people of the village of Whitby in England in the 1880s never fail to move me.  He captures the same sense of a moment of energy that Brueghel does, and among the static poses of 19th century photography, this is all the more amazing, although his subjects would also have had to pose.  What really intrigues me is how much the clothes, at least in their general outline and aesthetic, resemble those of Brueghel’s Renaissance peasants.

Frank Sutcliff, Fisher People, Whitby, 1880s

Frank Sutcliff, Fisher People, Whitby, 1880s

Another form of the common man are the servants who waited on the fashionable elite.  Those who worked in the public view often wore livery based on decorative but outdated fashions, but behind the scenes simpler garments prevailed.

Cook's dress: blouse & skirt with apron. 1890-1910, Manchester City Galleries

Cook’s dress: blouse & skirt with apron. 1890-1910, Manchester City Galleries

I’ve focused rather heavily on peasants so far: what about some pioneers?  Pioneers are both those who went further and endured hardships to explore their own country, and those who risked it all for a new life in a new country.  Immigrating to a new country always entailed a balance between the old traditions, and the new culture.  I think this dress is a fascinating example of that balance.  The fabrics, embroidery, piecing and apron of the outfit are taken directly from Mrs Shimn’s Eastern European roots, but the bodice is cut and styled like a fashionable 1880s blouse.

Ensemble, Mrs. Samuel Shimn, 1888, American, cotton, linen, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Ensemble, Mrs. Samuel Shimn, 1888, American, cotton, linen, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art

While I love the dress above for it’s uniqueness, I think it’s time for some pioneers who are a bit closer to home for me.

I wonder what these Portuguese workers setting out for Hawaii in the 19th century though their new life and home would be like?  I love all the children’s garments, and how they reflect the newer, more modern, fashions, while the woman is still in the more traditional peasant garb of the Azores.  The Portuguese had a major impact on Hawaiian fashions, introducing palaka, a distinctive check pattern, which has become a traditional fabric pattern in the islands.

Portuguese immigrant family in Hawaii during the 19th century

Portuguese immigrant family in Hawaii during the 19th century

Finishing up my Leimomi-centric look at peasant garb, I return to another traditional workers garment that was romanticised and appropriated by the fashionable elite: the Romanian peasant blouse.  Queen Marie of Romania (who almost married her first cousin, George V of England) took to wearing traditional Romanian garb to illustrate her devotion to the country and people she had adopted through marriage.  When she wore Romanian peasant blouses in Paris, she became a style icon, and the garment was widely used for inspiration by fashion designers and artists – Matisse sketched and painted a whole series of women in ‘La Blouse Roumaine’ at the end of the 1930s.

Marie and her children Marie (Mignon) and Nicholas in traditional Romanian attire, c. 1908

Marie and her children Marie (Mignon) and Nicholas in traditional Romanian attire, c. 1908

Marie lived a rather wild and interesting life (rather like her cousin, Princess Alice of Greece), but her devotion to the Romanian people never wavered, and at the end of her life she became a Baha’i.

Romanian peasant dress, fourth quarter 19th century, Romanian, cotton, wool, metal, wool, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Romanian peasant dress, fourth quarter 19th century, Romanian, cotton, wool, metal, wool, Metropolitan Museum of Art

A little embellishment and some red lips

After fixing up my Little Bit of Red dress in September, of course I had to actually wear it at Art Deco Weekend this year, despite a few moments of wailing “but I’ve already worn it….”

Little bit of red dress

To doll it up a little, I added a quick, fun, embellished accessory, which is my ‘easy’ entry for the HSF Embellish challenge: a trimmed 1930s hat (I’m working on a more elaborate Embellish item too).

My hat started life as a woven fedora a bit like these.  I damped my hat, reshaped the crown and brim, and pinned up the back of the brim so the hat could fit down snuggly over my hair pinned up in a chignon.  Re-shaped, it looks like this:

The re-shaped hat

Even a minimalist like myself thought that was a bit plain, so embellishment time.  I found some midnight blue and red velvet ribbon at an op shop, and had a bag of buttons on me.  A bit of winding, pleating, and sewing later, I had a trimmed hat.

Trimmed hat

Just what the hat and dress needed!

Little bit of red dress & embellished hat

I like the trim, but I am in LOVE with the hat.  It went with all my dresses (you’ll see it re-trimmed for two more), was super comfortable, stayed in place in the briskest wind Napier could offer, and the shape is perfect for the early 1930s.  I’m now on the hunt for similar hats to reshape

Little bit of embellishment hat

I had such fun wearing it!  (Oh, and check out Rach’s dress, which she made in my Garden Party Frock class.)

Fountain girls

Fountain girls

Fountain girls

So yes, it’s super simple, it took me barely any time, but sometimes a little bit of embellishment does make all the difference.  I think I’m going to call this the Little Bit of Ribbon hat.

Little bit of ribbon hat

The Challenge:  #4  Embellish

Fabric:  None

Pattern:  None

Year:  ca.  1932

Notions: 30cm red velvet ribbon, 1m blue velvet ribbon, both rayon, one button

How historically accurate is it?  At the best, plausible.  The hat shape is correct, the materials aren’t, the trim materials are borderline.

Hours to complete:  1 hour (to reshape the hat), 5 minutes to trim.

First worn:  Sat 16 Feb at Napier’s Art Deco Weekend

Total cost:  $1.50 for the ribbons, hat was a gift, button was inherited.

Little bit of red and little bit of ribbon

The Historical Sew-Fortnightly – why 1938

People have been asking why the cutoff date for the Historical Sew Fortnightly is 1938, and I realised that while we discussed it in comments, and I’ve mentioned it in posts, I’ve never directly addressed why I picked 1938 as the cutoff date.
The short answer is because it is 75 years ago, but that was really just a convenient bonus.
The long answer is that I wanted to pick a date before which garments would really look distinctly different from what we wear today, and in which the sewing techniques used to make them would be distinctly different from modern sewing techniques.  I also really wanted to make myself sew historical garments for my work, not vintage-historical which I could wear in an everyday context.
When I first conceived the idea of the Historical Sew Fortnightly I set the cuttoff date at pre-1920. The reasoning behind the 1920 cutoff was that anything after 1920 could easily be used in an everyday modern wardrobe, and I really did want this to focus on  really  historical stuff – partly because it is more different and special, and partly because people (me) are more likely to cheat historical accuracy on something for everyday wear.
Gazette du Bon Ton, 1920

Gazette du Bon Ton, 1920

I wanted to keep the date early because there are already many venues on the internet for showing off ‘vintage’ sewing, whereas forums for really historical sewing are much rarer.
However, there was such an outcry about 1920 being too early (or late?) that I agreed to move it later.  As an alternative date I settled on 1938, because post-1938 is the modern era, both in sewing and in world affairs.
McCalls 9296, 1937

McCalls 9296, 1937

1938 is the start of WWII (depending, of course, on where you were in the world), and sewing techniques start to change hugely post 1938. Pre-1938(ish) many of the techniques that are used are quite foreign to modern seamstresses.  Post 1938, and especially post 1948, the way clothes are assembled, and the techniques used, are much more similar to those used today.
For me the HSF was meant to push us to try new techniques, to research more, and to sew as a historical seamstress – post 1938 doesn’t give enough scope for that. I also got my first degree in International Relations, and in political science we speak of WWII as the transition to the ‘modern era’ of politics (though now there is also the ‘post 9/11’ era of politics).
Being slightly obsessive about organization and logic, I also like the symmetry of 75 years, a modern era of politics/world affairs, and a modern era of sewing.
Auckland Observer, Feb 1918

Auckland Observer, Feb 1918

While I like the symmetry, four challenges in to the Historical Sew Fortnightly I’m already a teeny-tiny bit sad about the compromise.  I’ve already sewn one 1930s garment, and have four more planned for upcoming challenges (and, considering we are only at Challenge #9, that’s a pretty high percentage).  These garments are great, because I have and will worn them, and have events to wear them too (Art Deco Weekend), but I know if it was pre-1920 I would have sewn much earlier garments.
My compromise with myself is that I will enter the post-1920s outfits as ‘soft’ easy entries into the HSF and try to sew something more historical (but fairly simple) as well for each entry where I do a post-1920 garment – so for Stripes I’ll be doing a 1934 dress, and an 1880s overskirt, and for Peasants & Pioneers I hope to do a 1930s peasant blouse and an 18th century linen petticoat.  We’ll see if I can accomplish all this!
My compromise to the people who wish that I had set the date later than 1938 – as late as 1960 even, is that I have opened an album on Facebook for stuff that you have sewn and want to show off but that doesn’t qualify for a challenge.
So that was my thought process.  How do you feel about the 1938 date?  What would you call ‘historical’ sewing?