Jacket and skirt

The fabric combination might seem familiar, it's bedding from Ikea. The striped fabric was the blanket cover, it's going to be an ankle-length skirt with ruching. The Indian-import-style flower cotton were the pillowcases, and having a very limited amount of fabric here, I decided for a short caraco jacket, decorated with - Guess! - fly fringe, as I just discovered how addictive it is to make it. See the post on fly fringe trim for any tips and how-to's.

As to the skirt support, here's a very helpful site to discern what shape was fashionable in what decade and how to achieve it: http://demodecouture.com/late-18th-century-skirt-supports/

The 18th century wasn't all Robe à la Francaise and paniers, during the 1770s there was also a fashion featuring shorter skirts and rounded hips, which I used as a model for this dress.

I have no pinking irons yet to make round pinked edges, and neither was I able to find craft scissors which give the desired edge and are strong enough to cut fabric, so I used the zigzag ones instead and cut a tiny bit off the points with a normal pair of scissors. They appear rounded now, and no one's going that close to my skirt seams anyway.

pointed zigzag versus almost-rounded zigzag

Pinking irons have the advantage that they press the fibres and the edge is slightly less prone to fraying, but I'll just give it a try.

The ruches measure a bit more than twice the hem circumfence.

The jacket was actually intended to be a caraco until I figured that I don't have enough of the fabric and went for a shorter jacket pattern.

Polonaise jacket and skirt

Ikea has always been a great source for fabric with period rococo patterns! I found this former bedlinen used on Ebay, the striped part for the skirt, the flowery part for the bodice. It was a single bedding, so the amount of fabric is absolutely limited. The striped fabric really is just enough for an ankle-length skirt, the equal amount of flowered cotton is enough for a casaquin, casually called a pet-en-l'air, or for a polonaise. The cotton is rather coarse, so it won't do as an upper-class outfit but I found matching silk floss so it will get fly fringe trimming nonetheless ;)

The fabric had been sitting in my storage for quite some time until recently I found that "right now" is the time for a new costume for a one-shot character I was playing three days hence. Because why not.

The skirt is the usual, simple rococo skirt shape, a little longer at the back so it can be worn with a padded rump.

The jacket was actually intended to be a casaquin but upon closer inspection the fabric wanted to become a polonaise. I used Janet Arnold's caraco pattern from 1775/85 but changed the front.

I had found matching embroidery floss and also had the intention of making some fly trim decoration, plus I wanted to close the jacket with ribbons, and for all this I'd need a stomacher; a very broad one - J P Ryan's stomacher from the jacket package is perfect. The jacket pattern gave me quite some trouble when I discovered that despite enlarging it to my size without much ado the front part of the peplum makes horizontal creases at the waist that definitely don't belong there. The peplum demands to be taken up at the sides and the back, then the creases vanish and the ensemble looks lovely. The problem can be remedied by taking in a small tuck along the waistline to shape it (not done in the original), in which case the caraco can also be worn with the peplum down.

The neckline is quite large at the front, and required a stomacher with a rounded top. It's put in with hooks and eyes and the ribbons closed on top.

The hat is actually the first thing now that has been finished (I might want to add fly trim to the ruching once I've produced enough, but for now I call it finished!) completely and looks so lovely I took up re-working the caraco (which is just the tiniest bit too tight to feel perfect) and finally adding a decent waistband to the skirt. The hat consists of an Ikea straw placemat, the crown shaped with water and ordinary household jars. Decoration became more and more as I was working along, and at one point I stripped the hat of its original ruching to switch to a lighter tone to match the dress pattern more perfectly. I'm finally able to de-stock my plethora of artificial flowers - the ones on the hat are even silk (the blue ones) - and artificial birdies :D The lace around the brim is the only thing that's glued on invisibly, everything else, ruffles, hatband, flowers, was sewn on with invisible stitches.

Fly fringe trim

Fly fringe, the legendary unicorn among historic trimming and the most 18th-century-ish decoration you can put onto your dress. As you can't buy it, you usually have to make it yourself. The downside is that it really takes time, as you have to prepare every single fly and then string them into a trim. The upside is that you can make this kind of trimming according to the colour chart of your dress.

After tracking down some how-to's, I decided to jump into it myself and make some fly fringe for my upcoming rococo projects. I still had silk embroidery thread in various colours whicht I ought to use up eventually because having umpteen colours but just 10 metres each isn't very helpful for embroidery, so better use them for trimming. I figured that measuring 15 centimetres amounts to five tiny silk floss flies with one knot, using six threads of silk. I also experimented with six strand cotton embroidery floss, twenty centimetres for four flies, double-knot, using four full threads.

As the silk thread is well-twined, being meant for sewing and embroidering, it gives this wavy texture, and I have to unpick the threads with a pin before fluffing them up with a hard nailbrush. You can fluff the cotton version to the same fine texture as silk, but it takes much more time to unpick the threads before fluffing, as cotton fibres adhere much more to each other than the smooth silk fibres.

left: double-knot cotton flies; right: single-knot silk flies

The single-knot flies are for weaving them into a braid, the two-knot flies are to be knotted onto another string of cotton thread.

For making flies if you only have one limited spool of thread and thus can't make and endless string of flies, here's my step-by-step for five flies in a row, using 15 centimetres of silk, allowing thus for 3 cm for each fly:
Cut desired length of silk thread as often as you need to get a fluffy fly. Knot the ends to mark the centre of the first two flies, then place a knot at the exact centre, and between those, two more knots. Cut in half exactly between two knots. Split the threads with a pin, then fluff with a hard nailbrush (or something the like).

 

the stages of a silk fly

 

silk flies, ready for brushing

Flowery victorian dress

Not my usual style at all :D The dress was planned for a very young character, hence the girlish look with ruffled hem and flower print.

The skirt consists of three panels with attached ruffle. It can be worn either with the matching blouse or with another of matching colour. There's lace trim at the top of the ruffle, the skirt closes with hook and eye at the back. When attaching a ruffle to a smooth piece of fabric, divide each of it into an equal number of parts, then pin together at the measured intervals and gather the fabric evenly between them. Otherwise with ruching of eight metres or so, you'll inevitably end up with an uneven dispersion of fabric around the hem.

The blouse pattern is a 1970s burda-pattern which fits the style perfectly. I only had to adjust the length of the sleeves a bit and narrow the neckline, as I wanted to have a proper Victorian stand-up collar. And as I had time to finish everything before wearing it for the first time, this blouse even has proper buttons and buttonholes! The visible buttons are shank buttons, the ones that vanish beneath the skirt's waistband are flat ones. I still had mother-of-pearl buttons of both sorts in my stock which fit the cream base colour perfectly. Decoration is also some lace trim along the collar and the yoke, and I even had time for a quickly embroidered initial of the character's name on the button border.

Robe à la Francaise of embroidered silk

Yet another upcoming ball, rococo this time, and the only dresses I have for this era are a day dress and a riding habit. I found embroidered silk at a haberdasher's that was not cheap but affordable, and to show off the embroidery I think it has to be another Francaise.

Teal regency gown aka "Frankenstein dress"

There's a historic 200-years-Mary-Shelley-Frankenstein-ball and you need a dress. Being a nerd who loves the novel, you put in as many hints as possible: the style of the dress is slightly oriental, the semi-transparent teal fabric is underlaid with a shimmering, silvery fabric and decorated with silver metal trim, a silver crescent decorates the headband and the front of the double-sided locket shows a river scenery with a castle. Avid readers will understand the allusions ;)

Gathering the material. The picture does the silver fabric no credit.

The bodice pattern is based on the one from my white ball gown, closing with buttons on the back; only this time I modified the outer layer, which is smooth at the neckline and gathered at the bosom, the pleats opening towards the neckline. I'm sure there's a ready-made pattern for this out there somewhere, but again, I had four evenings (plus a flight and an hour in Regent's Park) to complete the entire dress, from pattern to trimming... The lining is made from the silver rayon I used for the skirt of the shift.

The sleeves are not puffed this time, but slightly gathered at the top and open, ending in a tip decorated with a small silver tassel.

The skirt is attached to the gown beneath a sash of the same fabric, the edges (double sided where they hang down...) trimmed with approximately eight metres of silver braid, tassels at the ends. I did indeed use my usual amount of fabric for the skirt, three fabric widths with the sides of the front panel cut slightly aslant to make for a better fit. If you gather such an amount of fabric at the back of a dress, remember to cut the back neckline a little higher than intended, and the back side of the bodice a little shorter, as good old gravity will unite with the weight of the train and pull the dress a bit to the back when worn. Helps to lift the bosom to a perfect Regency level, by the way ;) And talking of the Regency waist, here's a most helpful guide to the slight changes in shape in each decade: http://www.uvm.edu/~hag/regency/tips/

The shift is a bodiced petticoat after my much-favoured push-up design. The skirt that's visible when dancing is made from a lovely, silver rayon which has a metallic sheen to it that's even visible through the upper layer. The bodice part is made from two layers of cotton for support. The teal dress does have a sash beneath the bust, but it's just decorative, not for actually keeping the dress in place

With this dress I finally found the perfect length for a train which isn't stepped on too often when dancing contredanses and still looks good when waltzing (btw it also is the first ballgown I ever made that was worn twice in two consecutive days, very economic!)

There's also a shawl now to go with this dress, as I found matching wool when at a Frankenstein conference in Ingolstadt - some things come togehter so absurdly nicely you couldn't plan them any better! The pattern is the Aeolian Shawl from knitty.com. There's some slightly glittery but unobtrusive synthetic thread spun into the wool that goes well with the idea of starry sky or electricity, and as also in previous centuries they did use metal threads together with wool for knitting, it's still period enough. The shawl is more like a decorative kerchief, covering the shoulders and the back, but doesn't reach past the sleeves of the dress. I bought more wool than needed with the intention of making matching fingerless mitts...

Wool in daylight, it's actually a shade darker.

Finished shawl, it's a bit lighter actually.

How to get vintage leather gloves soft

Only once was I lucky enough to find unused vintage leather gloves, delightfully soft and of perfect cream-white colour. Usually you're not so lucky and have to deal with used second-hand pairs that may be discoloured; and I, for my part, prefer to wash them and disinfect the inside if I buy them at a flea market. Even using a detergent specifically for leather doesn't help much, the leather comes out rather stiff after drying. Here's a collection of insights I gained through experimenting a bit.

- In general, leather gloves should be washed while wearing them and gently washing your hands with the gloves on, using a leather detergent. Rinse thoroughly. Squeeze the water out gently, if possible by rolling them to avoid crinkling. Dry on a towel that you change once it's too wet. NEVER dry on a radiator, it spoils the leather and makes it hard!
- To adjust gloves to your size, either widen them with a finger stretcher or the handle of a wooden spoon while still moist. Best thing is to put them on while still moist.
- While drying, put the gloves on several times and roll them to keep them supple and adjusted to the shape of your hands.
- If, despite all your efforts, the gloves still come out stiff and inflexible (especially funny if they go past your elbows and you can't bend them anymore...), turn them inside out and rub them thoroughly with uncoloured hand lotion or lanolin to replenish the missing grease in the leather. DO NOT use leather care grease, as it's usually yellowish and may discolour your gloves. Some gloves can also be greased gently on the outside, but you'll have to try. NEVER grease suede gloves from the outside!
- If you wear white leather gloves at a ball, don't let sweaty-handed partners touch your gloves without gloves of their own, the sweat discolours the leather (which is basically what must have happened to my extra-long pair).

And this happens if you rub a glove with Via... :D - well, this happens if your gloves come out with the rigidity of cardboard after washing and you have to treat them with hand lotion. Left one thoroughly lotioned from the inside, right one not. They became perfectly supple again, adjusted to my hands and let me bend my elbows. What more do you wish for! Well, they could be a little cleaner, the palms being really greyed (see sweaty-palmed-partner-problem above). I'll figure that out one day...

Ridiculously simple elven gown

I had sheer fabric and nice trim that I wanted to use, so I made this really simple elven dress years ago. Basically it's one large piece of fabric sewn into a tube and gathered at the top, edged with trim and straps added. Beneath the bust the fabric is gathered at the front half and covered with sewn-on trim which is just tied at the back where the fabric is left loose. The fabric is see-through, so some kind of undergarment is required, and the seam is overlong and just the unsewn selvedge, all of which makes it perfectly soft and flowing.

Thanks to Roberto Fusconi for this perfect shot!

Light green regency dress

Another upcoming event with three days' programme, requiring therefore an adequate number of dresses. For summer. In Italy. Fabric as light as possible. I bought a very nice, sheer cotton/poly-mixture some time ago which was now turned into the intended short-sleeved, non-iron day-dress.

The skirt is a bit less wide than my usual regency dresses, with only a small train but still full enough to billow nicely in a gust of wind or when running.

Picture by Marcus A.

The bodice follows a pattern I have already tried and lost again in the course of moving twice, so had to design it anew. The fabric being so nice and sheer, it's gathered all around (front a bit more than the back) over a smooth lining (following my push-up-pattern). The neckline is moderate, to be worn with or without a fichù. Simple, richly puffed sleeves, the lining closes with hooks and eyes, the bodice with little buttons at the back.

Picture by Roberto Fusconi

A cream satin ribbon has now been added as a sash to round things off nicely.

Exercises in invisible mending

Recently came upon a vintage sampler of invisible mending with woven patterns and didn't know how soon I'd have an opportunity for practice :D It was the very first try ever, but for that it came out nice enough.

Short tear in cotton fabric, medium weave shirt.

Make a very small knot at the end of the thread, just enough to keep it secure - if any at all. As there is no strain on the thread, you can just as well leave a tiny end on the left side of the fabric.

And then start re-weaving the pattern minutely. I left the warp of the original fabric and just replaced the torn weft with matching thread. Unfortunately the added blue thread shows rather blatantly, at least to me as a perfectionist. For absolutely invisible mending I guess I'd have to cut all fuzzy threads and replace warp AND weft with threads taken from the fabric to avoid the slight fuzziness my mending produced.

Iron and, if you like some extra security, back with some light fusing tape to seal raw edges at the back.