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Inspirational embellishments

It’s embellishment time on the Historical Sew Fortnightly.  Time to trim, ornament, adorn, frill, bedeck, garnish, festoon, and gild to your hearts content.

It’s also time for a confession.  I have trouble with embellishment.  I like the idea of embellishment, I like it when I see it on historical gowns, but when I get a gown finished, but un-trimmed, I love the silhouette and simplicity so much I just can’t make myself finish the trim and change the clarity of line.

So I’m hoping to use this challenge to finally make myself trim some of the un-embellished items I have sitting around.  And I’m hoping all these pretty embellished pieces reconcile me to some historical maximalism!

Like Elisabeth’s fabulous lace trimmed ruff, bejewelled headdress, and garnished partlet and dress.  I’m not usually a fan of late 16th century fashions, but the ornamentation of her dress is so perfectly balanced with the simplicity of her face, and with all the other embellishments.

Elisabeth of Austria (1554—1592) Queen of France, by François Clouet (1515—1572)

Elisabeth of Austria (1554—1592) Queen of France, ca. 1571, by François Clouet (1515—1572)

Late 17th century fashion can also be a bit hit-or-miss, but this frock marries the ribbon tabs and lace of the full chemise sleeves, the richly patterned skirt (pattern is, after all, a form of ornamentation), and the jewelled tie backs in such a delightfully romantic fashion.

French fashions, 1680s

French fashions, 1690s

The 18th century is all about embellishment, and I love that men got in the act.  If I could embroider like this I’d probably be far more enthusiastic about embellishing everything!

Waistcoat, England, Date- 1730-1739 (made) Silk satin, silver thread, spangles, silk thread; hand-sewn and hand-embroidered, V&A

Waistcoat, England, Date- 1730-1739 (made) Silk satin, silver thread, spangles, silk thread; hand-sewn and hand-embroidered, V&A

Since my embroidery skills are sadly lacking, I’ll have to content myself with 18th century lace, bows, ruffles and fly fringing and passimentarie.

Robe a la Francaise, 1762-1767, silk taffeta with ribbons and lace, Museum of London

Robe a la Francaise, 1762-1767, silk taffeta with ribbons and lace, Museum of London

Even the simple white frocks of the turn of the 19th century were embellished – usually white, but this polychrome and gilded example is delightful.

Muslin evening dress 1812-1815. Embroidered with single strands of very fine silk, the stalks are embroidered in silver gilt thread

Muslin evening dress 1812-1815. Embroidered with single strands of very fine silk, the stalks are embroidered in silver gilt thread

I also love the simple 1840s frocks with their deep lace-trimmed skirt tiers.  They clearly have links to Queen Victoria’s lace trimmed wedding dress of 1840, but I’ve also rread period references that call them ‘Boston dresses’ as they were apparently favoured by the elite ladies of that city.  I wouldn’t be surprised if they were also called Winterhalter dresses, as he was so fond of painting the grand ladies of Europe in that style of embellished frock.

Maria Luisa von Spanien, 1847, Franz Xaver Winterhalter

Maria Luisa von Spanien, 1847, Franz Xaver Winterhalter

It’s not just pretty ballgowns that can be embellished.  I’m fascinated by the tasselled trim on this 1860s mantle

Wool mantle with silk embroidery and tasseled fringe, late 1860's, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Wool mantle with silk embroidery and tasseled fringe, late 1860’s, Metropolitan Museum of Art

And the embroidery and piecing on this 1880s jacket.  Wow.

Black velvet embroidered fancy walking jacket, 1884, Arnold Constable, Antique Dress

Black velvet embroidered fancy walking jacket, 1884, Arnold Constable, Antique Dress

The late Victorians just loved embellishment.  Just checkout the hecka everything going on on this dress:

Evening dress, Jacques Doucet, ca. 1902, French, silk, linen, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Evening dress, Jacques Doucet, ca. 1902, French, silk, linen, Metropolitan Museum of Art

If that is too much, what about this amazing chenille embroidery from the designer who (to my mind at least) brought a mastery of embellishment to her garments which no other designer has come close to matching:

Jolibois, House of Lanvin  (French, founded 1889) Designer- Jeanne Lanvin,  fall-winter 1922—23, French, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Jolibois, House of Lanvin (French, founded 1889), Jeanne Lanvin, fall-winter 1922—23, French, silk, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Let’s finish off with another bit of subtle embellishment, in the form of 1930s colour-play trim.

1930s dress, DCV archives

1930s dress, DCV archives

Getaway to Golden Bay

So, in case you were wondering why there were no posts at all for 5 days last week, it’s because I escaped on a ‘no internet, no worries’ weekend with a bunch of fantastic friends, including the wonderful Theresa who was over from Melbourne, Chiara who is finally back from the States, and other wonderful buddies who you may recognise from photoshoots and music videos.

We took four and a half days, skipped over the channel to the South Island, and sunned ourselves in aptly named Golden Bay.  (‘sunned’ meaning subjected ourselves to small amounts of outdoor time after liberal application of sunscreen – the only person who got even a tiny bit burnt was me.  I forgot to put sunscreen on my part and my scalp got a bit pink and sore).

It was supposed to be a ‘no internet’ weekend, but some people just didn’t get the ‘no technology’ memo:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Still, there were plenty of long walks down country roads in the middle of nowhere:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

And lazy cup-of-tea mornings on porches overlooking the sea:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

And visits to the beach:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Where we found sand graffiti of a rather uninspired nature, so we improved it.  We like squids.  Cephalopods rule.

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

We also  visited Te Waikoropupu (The Water of Dancing Sands) springs, which are the largest springs in the Southern Hemisphere, and have the clearest water in the world after that found under the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica (and since you aren’t likely to get a chance to see that water, this is effectively the clearest).

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

The springs look shallow, but they are really incredibly deep.

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

They are also gobsmackingly, stunningly gorgeous, like so much of New Zealand, so I’m going to show you lots of pictures of the springs.

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Also, there were baby duckies.  I like ducks.

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Beautiful springs + baby duckies = happy Dreamstress

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

In addition to ducks, we saw coos (and ships!  But not the kind on the sea)

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

And we picked strawberries:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

And I saw watermelons growing, which I’ve never seen before:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Speaking of new food-stuffs, I also tried a pickled egg.  I think this photo should give you a good idea of what I (and everyone else) thought of them:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Much yummier were birthday barbecues cooked in an adorable little barbecue gazebo:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

And Rosy Glow chocolates made in a rosy-glow house (seriously, that house is a chocolate shop too):

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Good times were had by all.

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

It’s a good thing we only wanted to relax though, because there weren’t any jobs:

Golden Bay 2013 thedreamstress.com

Ah, lovely times away with lovely friends.  Good to be home and back in the thick of things though!

Theresa’s ca. 1915 dress

It’s been a long time since I did a Textile on Thursday post, and I thought it was high time I resurrected the practice and showed you a few bits more from my collection (also, you are probably well tired of posts about paniers and want something different!).

This item began with a totally unexpected parcel, and what may be my favourite-ever opening paragraph to a letter:

          “Dear Leimomi,

          You know when you inherit a period piece of clothing and don’t know what to do with it?  And then you recall you have a pal who is a fashion historian?  Exactly.”

It was from the wonderful Theresa, model and friend.

She went on to explain that the dress had belonged to her aunt’s husband’s family in Winnebago County, Illinois.  She had no personal connection to it, could I do something with it?

For a few months my ‘something’ was just hoarding it and petting it and drooling over how pretty it is, but now it’s time to share it, and someday soon it will be time to re-create it (I even have the fabric).

The dress is of white cotton muslin, with a cotton net bodice lining.  Based on the construction, materials used, and overall silhouette, I date it to between 1914-1916.  It still has elements of earlier Edwardian fashion, but the skirt is becoming fuller, and is only calf-length, and the rigid body shaping is giving way to the looser ’20s silhouette.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

It’s a true size 8-10, with a slight pigeon breast front, and a slightly higher than natural waistline.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

Theresa suggested that the dress may have been a graduation frock, as it is similar in style to photographs of her family in graduation gowns at the same era and in the same part of the country.  I agree that that is a distinct possibility – there is something very youthful about the dress, and the size and shaping hint at a young, teenage figure.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

One of the most interesting aspects of the dress is the intriguing triangle shaped sleeves, with their narrow forearms, and shaped uppers decorated with beautiful wrapped-thread bobbles.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The other noteworthy feature is the beautiful soutache-work trim on the yoke, waist and skirt above the ornamental grow-pleats.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The skirt ornamentation echoes the Greek Key / meaner motif, while the more elaborate bodice decoration is reminiscent of Eastern European designs, and foreshadows the ’20s fashion for Orientalism.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

I particularly love that the designs on the  centre-front and back sash pieces aren’t symmetrical.  It’s very subtle, but clever and unexpected.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The soutache trim is also made of cotton, and was machine sewn on – clearly the work of a very patient and skilled seamstress.  I’m going to need a lot of practice and freehand machine sewing before I can have any hope of recreating this work!

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The back of the dress is almost identical to the front, but without the pigeon breast effect.  The back is above, the front below.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The dress fastens on the proper left side with a series of hooks and snaps (domes), which are partly concealed by the sash which wraps from front to back and then hooks on at the back.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The hooks and domes continue all the way to the neckline under the decorative yoke, facilitating dressing over an elaborate full hairstyle, or up and over a petticoat.ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The dress would have been worn over a white cotton dress-petticoat, as it is too sheer to be worn without one.  If it was (as we suspect) worn by a teenage girl, it probably would have been worn without a corset.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

While the dress is essentially unlined, and would have needed petticoats underneath for modesty, the bodice has a full underlayer of cotton netting (now slightly damaged), which provides support and structure.  It helps to create the pigeon breast shape, and also gives enough substance to hold up the elaborate soutached yoke.

ca. 1916 muslin dress thedreamstress.com

The whole dress is a beautiful example of later ‘teens fashion, and the transition from Edwardian fuss to ’20s simplicity.

(also, seriously, I have the best friends ever).