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Evening dress by Augusta Lundin, 1913, Sweden, silk georgette with gold, silver and copper silk thread embroidery, lame, velvet, gold lace, chiffon, satin, Göteborgs Stadsmuseum

Rate the Dress: Edwardian Metallics

I’m  currently choosing fabrics for costume designs in bronze and copper, so this week’s Rate the Dress seemed perfectly in keeping with my mental design board.  Or, mostly in line!  The designs I’m working with are very aged and worn; all verdigris and corrosion.  In contrast, this week’s 1910s evening dress is all crisp and polished, almost bright and shiny as the day it was made.  Will you like it?

Last Week: a pink and black striped 1890s reception dress

A very mixed reaction to last week’s Rate the Dress.  Everything from ‘smitten’ to ‘just no’, and every descriptor from ‘restrained’ to ‘exuberant.

Those who didn’t like it weren’t sure about the pink and black though: was the pink to pale to hold its own? And they definitely weren’t in love with the sleeves (I suspect they were a lot better when they were new).

Those who did like it liked it because it was such a perfect exemplar of the 1890s, or in spite of the fact that it was 1890s…in other words, for every possible completely contradictory reason!

The Total: 7.7 out of 10

A slight improvement on the week before.

This week: A 1910s evening dress in copper and bronze

It’s pretty amazing that this 1910s evening dress is only separated from last week’s dress by 30 years.  The fabrics, silhouette, and design aesthetic are all strikingly different.  In contrast, my students today are all wearing clothes that are basically identical to what was worn 30 years ago (in fact, a lot of them are literally identical – late ’90s ‘vintage’ is all the rage amongst the hip young things who were wearing diapers when these garments were first sold!)

Evening dress by Augusta Lundin, 1913, Sweden, silk georgette with gold, silver and copper silk thread embroidery, lame, velvet, gold lace, chiffon, satin, Göteborgs Stadsmuseum

Evening dress by Augusta Lundin, 1913, Sweden, silk georgette with gold, silver and copper silk thread embroidery, lame, velvet, gold lace, chiffon, satin, Göteborgs Stadsmuseum

While this dress is radically new compared to the 1890s silhouette, it is nostalgic in its own right; the silhouette and decorations look back to Ancient Greece and Rome.  The sleeves, banded overtunic, and bodice girdle are all re-interpretations of classical dress. It’s characteristic of the 1910s take on Hellenic styles that this dress is coloured, turning its wearer into a goddess in bronze and copper, rather than a marble statue in white.

What do you think?  Would Venus herself have envied the wearer of this frock?

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.

A recycled 18th century under-petticoat

I’ve been doing a lot of sewing lately: finishing up sewing PHDs (Projects Half Done), both physical and mental.

Physical PHDs are things I actually started that have languished unfinished.

Mental PHDs are things I bought (or was given) fabric for thinking “I’ll just do this project quickly”.  Even though I haven’t actually started the project, it still preys on my mind as an unfinished idea!

Mental PHDs are particularly frustrating when they are really quick simple projects.  Surely I could find the hour needed to make it!

And yet my life has so many ideas and so few hours…

But here’s one I did!

When I was down in Christchurch visiting Lynne last year she gave me a beautifully made nightgown of very high quality fabric which had some wear in the upper half, and a lost sleeve:

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

The skirt fabric was still in excellent condition, and I thought it would make the perfect 18th century under-petticoat.

Under-petticoats were shorter petticoats tied over the shift, and worn under the stays, pockets, and over-petticoats.  You can see one here:

Bath stays or The lady's steel shapes, Darly, Matthew, 1777, Library of Congress

Bath stays or The lady’s steel shapes, Darly, Matthew, 1777, Library of Congress, PC 1 – 5444

Re-making a modern nightgown into an 18th century under-petticoat means mine won’t be fully accurate of course.

The nightgown iss cotton, which was a luxury fabric in the 18th century, so very uncommon compared to linen and wool (and even silk) for an under-petticoat.  It’s also only 200cm around at the hem, which is a little on the narrow side.   The embroidery designs aren’t typical of the 18th century, but the idea of embroidery is: many extant under-petticoats are decorated with embroidery.

The spirit of my petticoat is definitely accurate though: re-making, saving, and using what you have!

To make mine I measured up from the hem and marked the length I wanted: 85cm/33”

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

I cut it roughly:

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

And then tidied up the edge:

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

Normally I prefer a centre back placket in an under-petticoat, but with two side seams already in place, a centre back placket would only add a point of weakness, and be more work.

So I opened up the left side seam, reinforced the bottom, and hemmed the opening.

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

Then I cut a waistband, and marked quarters in the waistband and skirt.  I made sure to keep m waistband a couple of inches shorter than my natural waist, so it could always be tied without trying to overlap.

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

Then the moment when the petticoat starts to look like something: I pleated the skirt to fit the waistband, with all the pleats facing away from the front, towards the centre back.

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

I pinned on the waistband:

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

And then sewed it on.

By machine…

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

The petticoat already has lots of machine sewing, and since it’s winter I need to take care of my hands and limit hand sewing to the places where it really counts.

Like tie hems!  Such a satisfying moment, and impossible to do beautifully by any method but with handsewing.

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

And there’s my under-petticoat!

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

Recycled 18th c under-petticoat thedreamstress.com

And very satisfactory it is!  Works well too..it had its inaugural outing under the chintz petticoat you see behind it.

If you want to make your own, Burnley & Trowbridge have a video tutorial, and the American Duchess 18th century Costuming book includes under-petticoat instructions.

Now I just have to figure out what to do with the rest of of the nightgown.  Oh dear.  Another PHD…

And for the Historical Sew Fortnightly 2021:

The Challenge: The Costumer’s New Look (April): Give an old costume a new look, either by creating a new accessory or piece which expands or changes the aesthetic and use of an outfit, re-fashioning something into a costume item, or re-making an old costume.

Material:  An old cotton nightgown

Pattern:  None, based on period methods.

Year:  1750-1795

Notions:  Cotton tape

How historically accurate is it?  Not at all in precise techniques, but accurate in spirit.

Hours to complete:  >1.5 hours

First worn: For an 18th century dinner, late June.

Total cost:  0!

Rate the Dress: 1890s Big Sleeves & Bias Stripes

Apparently I’m on a pink and stripey kick, because this week’s Rate the Dress, like last week’s Rate the Dress, is pink and stripey.  Will you like it better?  Or will it fare even worse?

Last Week: a striped  evening dress from the very end of the crinoline era

An interesting mix of comments on last week’s 1869 dress.  Generally you liked the bias stripes, and often found yourself liking the dress more than you thought you should: somehow it was more than the sum of its parts.

I agree with all the commenters who felt it was somehow theatrical or costume-y.  It would be perfect on stage, or even on screen: you’d instantly know so much about the character wearing it!  Is it time to revive the big cheerful historical costume musical?  The Mary Poppins sequel tried!

The Total: 7.1 out of 10

Not a fabulous rating – we’d probably all love it in glorious technicolour, but as an actual ballgown it was a little lacking.

This week: An 1890s reception gown in pink and black

The overriding reaction to last week’s Rate the Dress is that it felt quite theatrical.  I realised that my original pick for this week was also possibly more costume-y than everyday worthy, so I decided I should choose something a little more restrained.

Hard as it may be to believe, this pale pink and black dress with its bias stripes and big sleeves is very restrained compared to what I was planning to show you!

Dress, 1893, Duboys Paris, silk, French, Fashion Museum Bath

Dress, 1893, Duboys, Paris, silk, French, Fashion Museum Bath

This early 1890s ensemble was probably a reception dress.  The high neck and long sleeves indicate it would have been for a daytime event, but the light coloured silk of the base fabric and the train suggests it was intended for formal indoor wear only.

Dress, 1893, Duboys, Paris, silk, French, Fashion Museum Bath

Dress, 1893, Duboys, Paris, silk, French, Fashion Museum Bath

I’ve looked and looked, and can’t quite figure out if the stripes are woven in, or applied on.  It’s also possible that they are woven in, but have been very carefully cut out and appliqued on on the bodice.  If you look closely you can see tiny pearl beads framing the stripes on the bodice.  Added embellishment, or a clever way to hide appliqued edges?

Dress, 1893, Duboys, Paris, silk, French, Fashion Museum Bath

Dress, 1893, Duboys, Paris, silk, French, Fashion Museum Bath

What do you think of this dress?  Do you like the combination of the subtle pink and the bold stripes?  Is the way the stripes are used to create shape appealing?

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.