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Terminology: What is alamode or allamode fabric?

While a la mode may mean ‘in the fashion’ it was also once the name for a fabric.

In the 17th, 18th & 19th century alamode was a thin plain tabby weave lustred silk, usually black.  It was used mainly for mourning, and for the linings of expensive garments, as well as as the outer fabric, especially for outerwear such as hoods and mantuas.  A 1691 theft included “”two blacke allamode hoods worth 5s”.  Eighty years later,    in 1770 Mary Berridge’s London house was broken into, and one of the items stolen was “One Black Allamode Clock Lined in the Blue  Latestring”

In early histories of 18th century fabrics it is described as being like lustring or surah silk, but more loosely woven (which may be a very non-technical way of saying that it is a plain tabby weave, rather than a twill like surah), and some references even describe it as the same fabric as lustring, but period advertisements make that very unlikely.

While usually spelled allamode or alamode, the vagaries of 17th and 18th century spelling have also given us the options of elamond, ali-mod, olamod, alemod, arlimode, and ellimod.

Alamode arose as a term in the last quarter of the 17th century.  A 1676 edition of the London Gazette lists:

“Several Pieces of wrought Silk, as Taffaties, Sarcenets, Alamodes, and Lutes.”

The reference to ‘Lutes’ makes it clear that alamode was a different fabric to lustring.  Another reference, a slightly later trading card also lists alamodes and lustrings (lutestrings) as different fabrics.

John Whitlock. Mercer. At the Black Swan & Role of Silk (c. 1738)

There aren’t a lot of references to the possible end uses of alamode in the 17th century, though there are a few hints.  The minutes of the London  Court of Governors from October 1694 tell a tale of a 17th century scam, and what the fabric was intended for:

 Sarah…  accused by Edwd. Fellowes for falsly and  fraudulently coming into his Masters Shopp  in the name of Mr. Thompson with a designe  to cheat him of some Allamode Silk to make  a hood and Scarfe prtending that Mrs. Thompson,  her late Mrs. had sent her with a Counterfeit  Note wth.

Alamode, along with all sorts of clothing and fabric (my how times have changed!) was a popular target for thieves.  A 1696 account tells of a much grander theft than Sarah’s failed attempt:

Stolen out of a Wagon at the Cock Inn in Wooburn in  Bedfordshire, on Thursday night the 25 past, a Truss in  which was about £165 in old. Money, and other parcels of  Money, in which was 31 Guineas, and one Broad Piece of  Gold ; also one Piece of broad Allamode, and one Piece of  Narrow Allamode Silk ; two Pieces of Black Silk Crape;  Half a Poimd of fine white Thred ; one Piece of Linen  Cloth, and other things out of the same Truss. Also out  of a Box, one plain Muslin Head Dress, and one striped  Muslin Head Dress. And also out of a Bag, half a dozen  pair of RoU Stockins, and 18 pair of short Stockins.

The mentions of broad and narrow widths are fascinating.  Did they just refer to widths, or do the descriptions also indicate other differences?

References in the early 18th century indicate that it was a specifically English silk, part of the English monarchies haphazard attempts to compete with the French fashions and the European textile industry.  When William of Orange died in 1702, the mourning dress of Anne’s court took an interesting turn:

For the encouragement of our English silk, called a-la-modes, his Royal Highness the Prince of Denmark (the Queen’s husband) and the nobility appeared in mourning hat-bands made of that silk, to bring the same in fashion in the place of crapes which are made in the pope’s country, wither we send our money for them.

All alamode may not have been English though.  The Boston News Letter  of  September 15, 1715    gives an advertisement  for  “Allamods French and English.”  And the elaborate 1691 “Reasons humbly offered for prohibiting all lustrings and alamodes wrought in foreign parts” makes it clear that alamode did not necessarily indicate an English fabric, but that England was simply banning the import of foreign alamode.

1691 "Reasons humbly offered for prohibiting all lustrings and alamodes wrought in foreign parts." Lewis Walpole Library

Whether or not it was made in England, alamode was sold throughout the English colonies.  As early as 1687 Judge Sewell ordered it from England for his wife’s wardrobe.  A decade later a citizen of Massachusetts left 20 ells of allamode in his will.  Advertisements for it are found in Nova Scotian newspapers of the mid 18th century.  In April 1774 the Boston Gazette carried the following notice:

Caleb Blanchard…Begs Leave to inform his Friends and Customers, That he has Imported by Capt. Symmes, from LONDON,
A Fresh Assortment of Summer GOODS, which he will sell at the very lowest Prices for ready Money viz.  Dutch Laces,  Cheavaux de Frize & Blond Laces, Gauzes, Gauze Handkerchiefs, a fine Assortment of Callicoes, &c. India Dimothys, Jackonet, sprig’d and striped Muslins, Bengals, Nankeens, Lungee Romalls, black and blue Ostrich Plumes, Skeleton & Cap Wire, Allamodes, Sarsnets,Ribbons, Gown Trimmings Hoses, best Pumps, Silk ditto, Girls & Misses Morracco Pumps, Cambricks, Lawns, a fone Assortment of Mens & Womens Worsted, Thread & Cotton Hose, Breeches Pieces, Morris’s Patent Gloves and Mitts, superfine and other Cloths, Duroys, W?ltons, Serges, Ravens Duck, Dowlass, China Ware, Paper, Nests Red Trunks, Irish Linnens of all Widths, Spices, &c. &c &c.

While all alamode may not have been English and supporting the English economy, at least part of Anne’s ploy worked, and the fashion for alamode as mourning attire was set.  In 1752 a trading card for a London undertaker waxed enthusiastic about his wares:

Velvet Palls, Hangings for Rooms, large Silver’d Candlesticks & Sconces, Tapers & Wax Lights, Heraldry, Feathers & Velvets, fine Cloth Cloaks. . . . Rich Silk Scarves, Allamode & Sarsnelt Hat Bands, Italian Crape by the Piece or Hatband, black & white Savours, Cloth Black or Grey, Bays & Flannel. . . . Burying Crapes of all Sorts, Fine Quilting & Quilted Matrices the best Lac’d, Plain & Shammy Gloves, Kidd & Lamb. . . . All Sorts of Plates & Handles for Coffins in Brass, Lead or Tin, likewise Nails of all Sorts. Coffins & Shrouds of All Sizes ready made.

In the 1770s a funeral bill in Massachusetts included costs for “15 best rich allamode silk hatbands.”

Woman's hat, black silk (almost certainly alamode), 1770-1780 via Colonial Williamsburg, accession # 1993-335

Beyond a lining fabric and a replacement for mourning crepe, alamode had one last use.  There are references to alamode fringing, but what it was, and what it looked like (other than a fringe) is not entirely clear.

Elizabeth Dawes, milliner, at the Lamb in the Long Walk near Christ's hospital, London ca 1757, Lewis Walpole Digital Library

Sources:

Buck, Anne.  Dress in 18th Century England, B.T. Batsford Ltd: London.  1979

Cummings, Valerie.  Royal Dress,  B.T. Batsford Ltd: London. 1989

Earle, Alice Morbe.  Costume of Colonial Times, Charles Scribner’s Sons: New York. 1917

Heel, Ambrose.  London Tradesmen’s Cards of the XVIII Century; An Account of their Origin and Use.  Dover Publishers: New York. 1968

Navas, Deborah.  Murdered by His Wife.  University of Massachusetts Press: Amherst.  1990

Van der Zee, B, and Henri Van der Zee.  William and Mary, Knopf: New York, 1973

On the internet:

18th Century Life.  The Boston Gazette.

Essex Record Office.  Calendar of Essex Assize File [ASS 35/132/1] Assizes held at Chelmsford 2 March 1691

London Lives: 1690 to 1800 – Bridewell Royal Hospital: Minutes of the Court of Governors. 6th January 1689 – 8th August 1695.  12 October 1694.

Phrases.org.uk –  A la Mode

Balancing accuracy and practicality in theatre: Johnnie’s uniform

As a historic costumer, every project is a balance between complete historical accuracy, and the demands of the modern world.

Should I spend a fortune on period fabric, even if the fabric would have been the cheapest, lowest fabric at the time, but is now prohibitively expensive?  How do I do the work accurately, without devoting too much of my life to it?  What if the fabric literally doesn’t exist anymore?

When you add the element of theatre, the demands increase.  As Mrs C has pointed out, theatre costumes are usually done on a budget, and a time budget.   Theatre often involves quick changes, and it is all done under stage lights, which are very warm.  So not only do costumes need to be as light as possible, but even then, actors sweat in them.  And they roll around onstage and get into fights and carry props and generally get dirty.  And theatre shows generally don’t have the budget and time for drycleaning.  So theatre costumes need to be washable.

All of these applied in making the costumes for Home.  I had a budget, a timeframe, but the other stuff was more important.  Stuart had to be relatively cool as he played Johnnie – which meant a heavy wool uniform wasn’t a good idea.  He also had to be able to change from a civilian to a soldier onstage – by putting on a coat and jacket.  His uniform details needed to be accurate enough to keep the keen war historians happy, while being cleanable and comfortable.

My design for Johnnie's costume

I started my planning for Johnnie’s outfit by researching the uniforms worn by New Zealand WWI soldiers, particularly  gunners in the New Zealand Expeditionary Force, the Wellington Infantry Battalion.

I found the Te Papa collection of Barry & Co. portraits of departing soldiers and their families particularly helpful.  The zoom function (love that zoom function!) let me clarify all the construction details, and the fact that they were all done in a Wellington portrait studio fitted perfectly with the Home story.

Next I looked at every image I could find of extent New Zealand WWI uniforms (there really aren’t very many left), to get a feel for the garment, and to determine the colour of the fabric.  There are a few shots of displays at the New Zealand Army Museum Waiouru, and one jacket on display in Turkey, and that’s about it.  I also looked at paintings, like this one, and tinted photographs, like this one.   I even looked at WWI reenactors, like the New Zealand Mounted Rifles Memorial Troops.

Finally, I read lots and lots of books: books about the wool industry in New Zealand, about knitting and weaving in New Zealand.  Books about WWI as an overview, and a few of the many, many published diaries and letters of soldiers – to see what they said about their uniforms.

What I found is that there was a wide variety of fabrics used, and a wide variety of construction techniques.  New Zealand hadn’t been preparing for war, and hadn’t been preparing to uniform thousands of men.  Different lots of wool were dyed to match a basic khaki colours, the dye varied batch to batch (and has been fading differently on different extent uniforms).  Local tailors made up uniforms.  Wives and mothers sewed on buttons.  Some men got uniforms that fit well, some men didn’t.

So I got a selection of possible fabrics to consider:

Fabric choices

None of them were perfect to me, but the cotton twill on the top of my stack worked best.  I loved the texture and colour of the bottom fabric, but the weave was too loose to set welt pockets into.  The cotton twill was a good colour, a good weight and hand, and wouldn’t be too warm to wear.

To give the fabric just a little more weight and structure, and a little more protection from the actors skin, I flat lined the jacket in cotton muslin (and I took lots of pictures so I can do a tutorial!).  I did not flat line the pants.

The flat lined sleeve

After that, it was just about finding a pattern.  I used a combination of vintage pattern reference books, a modern man’s suit pattern with a similar cut, and my copy of a late 19th century tailors manual.

Guidelines for drafting military uniforms

It may have been almost 20 years old in 1914, but I know it was used by New Zealand tailors well into the 1930s, so it’s perfectly plausible that it was used as a reference by a tailor making up a WWI uniform.

The different cuts of military uniforms from the tailors manual

After that it was just about sewing it up, having a couple of fittings, and sending the uniform out into the great world of theatre.

Stuart as Johnnie

The pants can be worn without the putti (those wool things wrapped around his legs) and with a suit jacket as a civilian outfit, and with a wool undershirt and braces as Johnnie’s military undress in a camp in the desert.

Isn't the hat awesome? They provided that

There is the tiniest bit of sclumping in the shoulders, but I think that fits well with the hurriedness of the war, and lends a note of accuracy.  The buttons are generically ‘military-ish’, and the belt came from a Army-Navy surplus-type store.

Overall, it’s a good blend of theatre and reality.  I’m pleased.  And it was fun to do something other than corsets and pretty princess dresses!

Rate the Dress: Clovers & green in 1897

Last week Elizabeth of Bohemia in her flowered frock elicited lots of comments on early 17th century silhouettes, farthingales, ruffs, and the advisability of dressing children as adults, but overall the sumptuous fabric won out, and she got the best rating yet for a first-quarter-of-the-17th century gown, coming in at 8.2 out of 10.

As it’s St Patrick’s day week I thought it would be fun to have a St Patrick’s themed Rate the Dress.

What could be more Irish (only, well, it’s French) than this medieval influenced gown from 1897 from Les Arts Decortifs?

Dress in two parts, 1897, France, Brocaded silk satin and velvet, Les Arts Decoratifs

Dress in two parts, 1897, France, Brocaded silk satin and velvet, Les Arts Decoratifs

It’s got clovers!  It’s green!  Is it adorably timely or just a bit too costume-y?  Will this dress get lucky and hit the pot of gold (OK, I really need to stop now) or prove to be no more than Leprechaun’s treasure – where the gleam wears off when you try to grasp it (OK, I really, really need to stop now).

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10