Outfit Inspiration
April 17th, 2012
While gradually gathering my sewing supplies from a series of vaguely marked boxes (my own fault for labeling them as “stuff”) I have been focusing my energy on dreaming rather than doing. Edwardian and Art Nouveau figure largely into my planned projects, with a healthy dose of the eccentric and absurd.
Costume & Construction posted this beauty a few weeks ago and I have been scheming ever since:
I’m also very taken with the 19-teens styles, as the Edwardian silhouette began to soften into the 20th century. It seems like an aesthetic that could even be worn today without occasioning too many odd looks.
An aside:
Let’s face it, there’s simply no way to look normal while wearing a hoop skirt to the grocery store. And I detest being the center of attention because of how I am dressed. Perhaps that’s an unfortunate quirk of character given my penchant for unusual and untimely clothing. But if I may paraphrase Emily Post, one should always strive to be unremarkably dressed. If you are going to wear something that will make people stare, be VERY sure that the stares are admiring.
Back to our regularly scheduled program:
In addition to expanding my wardrobe (and possibly designing some garments to share with the world — more on that soon), I’ve also been thinking about costumes for upcoming events, both public and private. For years I’ve wanted to host a “Caesar & Cleopatra” dinner. Inspired by the immortal Shavian play, we’d lounge on cushions, feasting on roasted fowl and dates soaked in rosewater under the evening sky. We’d stop just before the murder of Pothinas…
A key point to establishing the atmosphere for such an evening would be getting all the men to dress as Romans and all the women as Egyptians. Since my inspiration is Shaw’s play, not actual historical events, I’d rather choose a costume intended by the 19th century to evoke ancient Egypt instead of attempting an accurate version of a late Ptolemaic ensemble.
This 1866 painting of Cleopatra confronting Caesar by Jean-Léon Gérôme, for example.
Swing Your Partner
April 16th, 2012
Do any of you remember the Amazon Drygoods catalogue? Now they’ve got a website of course, but I’ve got such fond memories of poring through their pink-paper-bound booklets, dreaming about all the historic and ethnic costumes I’d make.
I did end up buying quite a few patterns through them, including my first forays into Ms. Altman’s excellent Past Patterns. Among the patterns that my mother firmly discouraged however were the square dance dresses. She realized, as I was not then able, that I would have absolutely no use for a square dance dress in northern Delaware. Looking back, I can see that she was probably right. But I always carried a secret regret.
So you can imagine my joy when I found a whole pile of the very same patterns at the local thrift store. For 90 cents a piece!
Which of course begs the question, what on earth am I going to do with a square dance dress on the central coast of California?
Hmm, that reminds me — gingham is on sale at Walmart…
(18)50s Fabric Relapse
April 14th, 2012
Now that I can’t pop up to 38th street (in NYC’s Fashion District) whenever I need some fabric, I am gradually getting reacquainted with the way most of the country shops for sewing supplies. One of my very favorite blogs, Romantic History, had a recent post about finding bargains on fabric at Walmart, which inspired me to drop by their crafts counter this afternoon. And indeed, there were a couple of not-so-awful cotton prints to be had at very fair prices.
Actually, they’re pretty awful. But in a delicious 1850s kind of way. In fact, the second this caught my eye, I was head over heels for the mid-19th century again. So much for my valiant resolutions to ignore the decade and devote myself to Poiret. Not that I intend to resume my myopic ways. But I can’t quite give up the 50s completely. And as if to prove it, 9 yards (all that was left on the bolt) of this stuff are now waiting patiently to be made into a new dress.
Given my druthers, I’d probably have bought it in this colorway:
I am that fond of purple. But there was only 1 and a half yards left. I took it anyways. Perhaps an apron? A late Edwardian blouse? A sunbonnet?
Death to My Mourning Bonnet
November 20th, 2011
A few years ago, I made a dress to wear to the faux 19th-century funerals that I host (does one host a funeral?) every year for the museum where I work. I spent weeks on the dress, crape-trimmed undersleeves, and crape-trimmed chemisette. But I didn’t think of making a bonnet until the night before the funeral. With no millinery supplies on hand, and just an hour or two until showtime, I scrounged around and made do.
Not bad, considering it’s made on a frame of…wait for it…two hanging file folders and packing tape.
It made crinkling sounds whenever I put it on, but no one ever discovered my secret. Unless I told them of course…which I did with great pride in my own ingenuity.
So tonight, realizing that I would never again run a faux funeral (yeah, yeah, never say never — but at least not for a while), I decided to kill my bonnet in a symbolic gesture. First I took off the ribbon though, which actually belongs to my Elvira Madigan dress (that’s what my husband calls it). Then I took up my sacrificial blade.
It was surprisingly satisfying to tear apart my work.
So, it is with a sombre, yet satisfied, heart that I bid adieu to my make-shift mourning bonnet.
R.I.P.
Stays, and Stays
October 27th, 2011
I think, fingers crossed, I’ve finally done it. I lost count long ago of how many iterations I’ve made of this pattern for stays (originally from Peterson’s, 1855). At least six. And here are the last two.
The one at the top fits perfectly — or comes very close to doing so. There are still some persistent wrinkles around the waist, but I think I’ve reduced them as much as I can with redrafting. The rest will be done with boning. It’s actually a rather dreadful pattern for stays. I’ve seen extent stays from the 1840s and from the 1860s that deal with the hip curve (raison des plis) in a much better way — either with a deep gore that wraps all the way around the side of the hip, or with a separate curved hip piece. Maybe this pattern was meant to be more like the deep side gore, circa 1840, but the picture and directions from Peterson’s led me back time and again to these smallish front slanting gores.
Now to make them in some nice fabric for a change!
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