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The ‘Henrietta Maria’ dress

Published by The Dreamstress

This week’s challenge on the Sew Weekly commemorated the Royal Jubilee celebration.  The brief said, make something inspired by “any member of the royal family, past or present” and I immediately thought “Past!!!!”.  I mean, this is me we are talking about.

So I started brainstorming an idea and working on my project.

Then, with the garment done but for the hem, the Sew Weekly inspiration board came out.  Mena’s inspiration board is all from QEII’s life.  I guess by “past” she meant royals who were alive during Elizabeth’s early life.  My “past” is a little more “past” than that.  By  three centuries.  Oops.

So.  Umm…  Anyway…

This was my inspiration:

Henrietta Maria (1609-1669), Queen of Charles I, ca1635, Unknown artist, background by Hendrik van Steenwyck, from the National Portrait Gallery, via Wikimedia Commons

Henrietta Maria, 1632

Henrietta Maria, wife of Charles I, may be a  long  time in the past, and only barely related to Queen Elizabeth, but she  was  a member of the royal family, she’s someone who fascinates me, and I  love  the fashions of the 17th century.

Oh boy do I  love  the period from 1630-1660.  It’s so pretty.  The full skirts.  The sloped shoulders.  The slightly raised waists of the 1630s transitioning to the smooth, pointed bodices of the 1660s.  And those sleeves.

Oh, those  wonderful  pleated, puffed, just-past-the-elbow sleeves.  Swoon…

As you know, I’ve already made  a full on historical 1660s gown, and while an early 1630s bodice based on the portrait of Henrietta Maria is on my to-do list, it’s not a week long project.  And the whole point behind the Sew Weekly for me is to make a wearable wardrobe.  So I wanted to do something 17th century inspired, rather than literally 17th century.

For this project I made a list of the 17th century elements I wanted:

  • Rounded neckline with dropped shoulders
  • Full just-past-the-elbow sleeves
  • 17th century colours
  • Pleat details
  • Waist definition without a waistline, hopefully with a bow inspired by the yellow portrait.

For my historical coloured fabric I picked a strange, drapey and slightly ribbed darkest green viscose fabric that I found at an op shop, and have accessorized my dress with a waist sash made from a wide vintaged striped silk-satin ribbon.

 

17th century + yellow = happiness.

The darkest green fabric also makes me inordinately happy.  It’s so dark as to be almost black, and historically a lot of “black” fabric had a dark green tinge, because it was so hard to dye true black.

In front of the War Memorial Cenotaph, with the Beehive just visible on my left

Making the dress was both extremely easy, and incredibly painstaking.  The concept is so simple, but the threads at each end of each large pintuck-pleat had to be pulled through to the back and tied off by hand, because backstitching just looked messy and cheap.

It was also painstaking because I didn’t actually have enough fabric.  The op-shopped viscose was a leftover from someone else’s project, and cut in a really weird shape, and quite narrow.  I carefully, carefully cut and measured and thought I could get the dress out with only one bit of piecing in one sleeves.  Once I started sewing the pleats the sleeves just didn’t look right, and I realised I had cut two left sleeves.  Unfortunately I’d already completely pintucked the sleeve with piecing, so the un-pieced sleeve got ditched, and my right sleeve is now pieced in three places, and the grains don’t even match.  And you know what?  I love it.  I think it adds to the dress.

You can just see the piecing on the right sleeve in this image

I first wore the dress to my birthday party on Queen’s Birthday Weekend, but forgot to bring a camera, so DH and I did a photoshoot at Parliament, the Beehive, and the lion statues at the War Memorial Cenotaph on Queen’s Birthday Monday.  I figured you couldn’t get much better than a place where Queen Elizabeth has actually been, and that represents her as Head of State for New Zealand, and on her official birthday too!

Doing my best regal 17th century hand gestures on the steps of Parliament

 

Beehive on my right, Parliament on my left

 

The very regal, very English, Cenotaph lion.

Just the facts, Ma’am:

Fabric:  2-ish metres viscose

Pattern:  My own

Year:  1630s meets 2012.

Notions:  thread and interfacing

Hours:  4 of actual sewing, another 4 of messing around with the pattern.

First worn?:  Saturday 2 June for my sew-in birthday party, then again on the 4th for the photoshoot.

Wear again?:  Yes!  I love this dress!  It’s fun, it’s comfortable, I got so many compliments on it, it will travel well and is suitable for every occasion (so very royal).

Make again?:  Yes, my friend wants two now, and my sister wants one, and I want another one, or two, or three…

Total cost:  $2 for the op-shop fabric.

And the inside?: Just overlocked.  Fancier finishes don’t work with the drape.

My 1930s patterns – the non-Excella patterns

Published by The Dreamstress

My apologies dear readers.  I know the blog has been very quiet.  I’ve been very overwhelmed.  Busy seamstress = absent blogess.  But it also = exciting sewing things done (whenever I have time to blog about them!).

I’ve got so much to show you on the 1780s chintz pet en l’aire, and a glorious 1900s project, and a 17th century inspired project.  So lots to look forward to!

For now, here are the last of my 1930s patterns.  I’ve showed you the Excella patterns, parts I & II.  Today’s patterns are by a variety of makers, and I’ve arranged them in rough chronological order.

First, the classic, mid 1930s evening dress:

Butterick 4175 – formal frocks

For a more casual look, how about these natty nautical options.  I used the top to for S’s nautical playsuit:

Butterick 5654 nautical outfit

For a more mature look, these day frocks are pretty spectacular.  I love the asymmetrical collars.

Chatelaine Patterns 1535

And another, more glorious, variant on the classic ’30s evening dress.  The back options are totally swoon-worthy.

Butterick 7026 – 1930s evening dress

And last, options for a number of little tops.  Even if I liked nothing else about this pattern, the fact that one of the models is wearing dress clips would instantly win me over!

Hollywood Pattern 1336

Right.  Back to sewing!

UPDATE: Found one more I’d forgotten about!  Isn’t this nightgown pattern just swoon-worthy?  I also love that it is a McCalls #23!  So early as a separate non-magazine pattern!  And that chorus-girl line of models – so droll!

McCalls 23 – 1930s bias nightgowns

McCalls 23 – 1930s bias nightgowns

You can really see how similar it is to some of the evening dress patterns above (no wonder people get confused about whether something is a nightgown or a evening dress!  Wearing History &  the Vintage Baroness  both did fantastic posts about telling the difference – unfortunately I’ve never been able to find the link on Wearing History again, so if anyone knows it please share).

It’s interesting, looking at these patterns, to notice the price differences – from 15 cents to 50 cents, quite a lot in 1930s money!  It’s partly based on the pattern type, but mostly about the pattern company.  A lot like today!

Pleating the back of the 1780’s chintz pet-en-l’aire

Published by The Dreamstress

After creating the basic bodice support for my 1780s chintz pet en l’aire, figuring out the general measurements and sewing together my panels of Japanese block-printed obi silk, it was time to pleat the bodice back.

Bodice under-structure all laid-out

First I needed to find a lining fabric, as I planned to completely flat line the silk, as it was so thin.  Thin, crisp unbleached linen?  Sounds perfect.

Cutting the linen lining

Then for the pleating. My main inspiration garment, the cotton pet from the Manchester City Galleries, has multiple narrow back pleats.

Pet-en-l'aire jacket, 1780-90, cotton with silk bows, Manchester City Galleries

I don’t like it.  It’s kinda ridiculous.  The Met pet has a much better back.

Caraco jacket, late 18th century, cotton, Belgian, Metropolitan Museum of Art

So that’s what I went for with my back pleating.

Pinned in pleats

This is also when I found out that the silk is kind of evil to work with.  It creases, but doesn’t pleat easily and lay nicely.  It’s rather like frizzy hair – you press it down and it just springs back and heads off in its own direction.

Recalcitrant pleats

To get it to work I actually had to unpick some of the panels so that I had less fabric to work with, and iron in the pleats to get them to stay before I stitched them down to the back bodice.

Ironed-in back pleats

With the pleats finally all figured out and sewed down to the bodice support, and the panels re-attached, I ended up setting aside the pet for a few months while I worked on other stuff.

When I came back to it again I realised afresh how ridiculously difficult the silk was to work with, and how the crisp linen lining really wasn’t helping.  Grrrr.  I considered continuing to fight with it for the rest of the construction, and how the garment would never look right, and I sighed, bit the bullet, and unpicked the whole thing.  Hours of hand-sewing down the drain.

Then I relined it in a soft cotton with a much better drape.  It sucked, but I’m sure I won’t regret it.