1795 Half-Mourning Robe

Every year, the DFWCG holds a Georgian Picnic, and as usual, I waited until the very last minute to decide what to wear.  I had originally planned on wearing something old, but my state of mind since the election has been pretty gloomy, so I decided to wear my heart on my sleeve and make another mourning gown.

I was originally inspired by a fashion plate from Gallery of Fashion showing an "afternoon dress, in half-mourning" that combined a black robe with a white round gown.  I already had a white gown, and I found a 3 yard piece of black wool in my stash that would work great for the robe. Luckily, I also had some good 1790s patterns that I had drafted for previous projects, so it ended up being a really quick and easy garment to put together.

A black robe on its own is pretty boring, but I also found lots of examples of 1790s robes edged with fur, which seemed like a perfect choice for a November picnic (you can see a variety of robe fashion plates here).  I picked up a yard of faux fur and used this to trim the edges of the robe, and I also made a new muff since the 1790s is ALL about the accessories.

Turbans are the most common type of headwear that women seemed to wear with this type of gown, and the crazy-long feathers add such a fun finishing touch.  Since I was short on time, I made a really simple fixed turban by tacking a long strip of silk over a wool hat blank.  I also wore my curly grey wig to try to mimic the look of the ladies in these fashion plates.

So that's pretty much it!  My obsession with 1790's fashion knows no bounds, and it was a lot of fun to make another robe to add to my growing collection.

As usual, I'll post a few of my favorite photos here, and the rest are on Flickr.

Grandma, the Wolf, and Little Red

The tale of this costume follows a long and meandering path, and to tell its story, I need to go back to the beginning, over a year ago: “Once upon a time, a lowly seamstress heard news of a magical ball in a far off land…”

*ahem* Okay, so maybe that’s a bit too dramatic for a blog post. Let me try that again:   

John Singleton Copley, Portrait of a Lady, 1780

In the summer of 2014, the organizers of Costume College announced that their next theme would be “Plucked from the Pages: Costuming Your Favorite Literary Characters”. I usually have a HORRIBLE time deciding what costumes to make for big events like this one, but I knew almost instantly want I wanted to make for the 2015 Costume College Gala. Out of all the old fairy tales, Little Red Riding Hood is my favorite, so I decided that I would be the Wolf wearing Grandma’s clothing. But I had no intention of being a sweet old grandma wrapped up in blankets with curlers in her hair. I wanted to be an elegant 18^th c. grande dame like you see in so many paintings from that age. There is so much subtext and darkness and deeper meaning in old fairy tales, so I started wondering if the real Grandma was meant to be somewhat terrifying and wolf-like on her own, and maybe that’s why Little Red couldn’t tell the two apart. Who knows if that was the original intention, but it’s a fun thought, and one that you could easily imagine being true when you see the countless historical images of stern-looking matriarchs with silver hair and piercing eyes.

I started by collecting pictures of older women in Georgian paintings (check out my Pinterest board for lots of great Grannies). Many of these ladies are shown in grey or taupe gowns with an abundance of frilly white caps, aprons, and fichus, and this color combo already looked very wolf-like to my eyes. For my costume, I decided to make a simple grey silk taffeta round gown, and I drafted my own pattern by modifying and combining several of the dresses in Patterns of Fashion. Although my dress is quite plain on its own, I was lucky enough to find some gorgeous tambour embroidered curtain panels from the 1930’s at an antique show a few years ago, and they worked perfectly for my apron and fichu. The panels all had some staining and damage in various places, but I was able to cut around the bad spots, and I’m thrilled with the way they turned out. To finish off my gown, I made a pair of organdy sleeve ruffles that I just pinned in place. 

Although my dress was fairly simple, I decided that I wanted my hair to be more dramatic for the gala, so I made a large 18^th c. wig based on the instructions in Kendra’s Van Cleave’s wonderful book - 18th Century Hair and Wig Styling. I used the instructions for the Lilac wig to build the wire base, and I used a Lioness wig plus several hanks of loose hair to cover the base and make the buckles. The wig was originally dark brown, but I sprayed it with Jerome Russell B Wild Color Spray in Siberian white to make it grey, and this was definitely the best white hair spray that I’ve tried yet. I’ve never worn a wig this big before, but it was lots of fun and surprisingly comfortable. The only unexpected side effect is that it gave me a bit of a face lift from the weight of it pulling backward on my head, which made me look a less matronly than usual. The funny thing is that even though this wig seemed MASSIVE when I was building it, it didn’t seem big at all once I had the whole outfit on. While I was wearing it, I kept thinking, “eh – I could have gone a lot bigger”, and if period painting can be believed, this ‘do was still quite modest compared to many. 

More than anything, 18^th century grandmas seemed to love their ridiculous caps, but I wasn’t sure how huge and silly I really wanted to go with mine. What I ended up with was relatively tame compared to what you often see in period paintings and fashion plates, but that’s mainly because I put the cap off for the last minute and didn’t have time to keep hemming ruffles. My cap is made from organdy, and it is just a much larger version of a typical 18^th c. cap. It is made from a large oval in back with a band that is wider at the sides and narrower at top, and I covered the band with several rows of box pleated ruffles and some poofed black ribbon. It also has a hanging tail of fabric in the back, which is a common look, even if it doesn’t seem to serve much purpose.   

While I was sewing my gown, I was also working on a wolf mask, which was quite an adventure as well.  I discovered the work of Joni Good and her book, How to Make Masks!. Joni makes some of the most amazing papier mache masks that I’ve ever seen, and you can find much more of her work on her website, Ultimate Papier Mache. I used her techniques and sculpted a mold for my mask using terra cotta clay, then I covered it with shop towels and the plaster/glue mixture that she describes in her book and instructional videos. I actually ended up making two wolf sculptures and papier mache shells because I forgot to use a release agent on the first one, so the paper mache stuck to the clay and wouldn’t come off. Whoops! But it all turned out for the best because I liked my second version of the wolf much better. 

photo by jennylafleur

While I loved making the wolf mask, I have to admit that I didn’t love wearing it. Very few people knew who I was when I arrived at the gala, and it was almost impossible to hear me when I talked because it was so noisy and the mask muffled my words. I also had a limited range of sight, so I had to be very careful not to step on trains or bump into tables. So it was fun for the grand reveal and a few pictures, but poor Wolfie didn’t last long at the party. But the best part about wearing this costume was that my friend Ginger decided to make an 18^th c. Little Red costume to go along with my Grandma Wolf, and she made the most AMAZINGLY gorgeous polonaise à coqueluchon, which is a hooded gown that was popular at the time. Recreating the characters of this story in a more historical way was SO incredibly fun, and I was thrilled every time somebody had an “ah-ha!” moment and realized who we were. I’m so happy and grateful that Ginger decided to play along with me, and doing this theme with her was one of the highlights of my trip.

So that’s the story of Grandma and the Wolf, but this tale had one more twist that surprised even me in the end. Although I wasn’t planning on wearing this outfit again so soon, we had an unexpected cold front move in right before our yearly Georgian Picnic, and I decided that a silk round gown would be a little warmer than my semi-sheer cotton chemise dress that I had originally planned on wearing. I still desperately needed a cloak to block the wind, but when I dug though my stash, the only thing suitable that I found was some coat-weight red wool that I found at an estate sale many years ago. So I used the hooded cloak and mantle patterns in Costume Close-Up as a guide, and I quickly threw together a little red mantle to keep me warm at our picnic. So without even planning it, this costume now has become Grandma, the Wolf, and Little Red Riding Hood all in one!

Maurice Quentin de La Tour, 

portrait de Nicole Ricard, enfant, 1748-1750

I trimmed my mantle with strips of pinked, box pleated wool in a style that is very similar to this charming painting of a young girl. I think most winter cloaks were probably lined in the period, but I didn’t bother to do that on mine since the fabric was felted and quite heavy already. My only complaint is that the hood pattern that I used probably dated from the mid-1700s, so it ended up being a bit small for my later 18^th c. hairstyle. I’m tempted to take the hood off and try adding a larger one in the future, but I still love my little red riding hood like crazy, and it kept me quite warm and cozy at the event. 

I also wanted to take a minute to thank several of my friends for giving me some of the gorgeous accessories that you can see in these pictures. My mitts, workbag, pinball, and muff were all gifts made by amazingly talented and generous ladies, and I can't tell you how much that I treasure them! So thank-you Kendra, Angela, Stephanie, and Mary - you are all so dear to me!

And as a final epilogue to this story (which I'm afraid has gotten quite long winded!), I also wanted to mention my new market cap and hair experiments. I had no interest in wearing my large wig to a windy outdoor picnic, so I decided that a more simple style of hair with a market hat would be much more appropriate. I bought a market cap pattern from Maggie at Undressed Lady last summer, and I made it up in a few hours last week from some scraps of black taffeta left over from older projects.

I’ve also been dying to try out the pomade and powder that I bought earlier in the year from Abby at Heirloom Haircare, but I had a huge disaster on the morning of the picnic and discovered that I had misplaced my pomade. So after a failed search and a lot of panic and cursing, I finally resorted to wearing my bushy white wig out of desperation. It’s not the right style of hair for my outfit, and it badly needs restyling, but it was better than nothing, so I sucked it up and just made do with my sad backup wig. Unfortunately, the market hat really needs a tall hairstyle to support it, so I was pretty disappointed with the way it looked at this first wearing (my picnic pictures are here if you are curious).

But then as I was cleaning my sewing room two days later, I found my pomade and decided to give it another try. OMG – I am in love! My hair is mid-back length right now and not overly thick, so I wasn’t sure if I would be able to pull off an 18^th c. hairstyle without adding in extra pieces. But the pomade and powder thickens up your hair so beautifully, and I was amazed by how well it stayed in place with no need for teasing or hairspray. I started by pinning a rat of loose synthetic hair that was wrapped up in a hair net on the top of my head, then I combed my own hair over the rat and pinned it down in back. Then I made two large buckles and a loop with my remaining hair that was hanging down (I basically just copied Abby’s look shown on her blog). After it was all in place, I re-powdered it to make it more obviously grey, and I hid the parts in back where it was pinned with a cap and a bow. I don’t think I’ve ever had such good luck styling my own hair before, and I’m absolutely amazed that I managed to pull this look off on my first try! And as an added bonus, my market hat suddenly went from “wah, wah, waaaa…” to “WOW!” once I had the right hairstyle to support it.

Since I had such good luck with my practice hairstyle, I decided to get dressed up one more time and finally take some proper pictures of my dress. I didn’t get many that I was happy with at either Costume College or the picnic due to bad lighting and my failed hair, so it was fun to finally come up with some shots that I’m really happy with. Check out my flickr if you want to see more.

"... and they lived happily ever after.  The end!"

the 1790 Redingote

So my original plan for the Georgian Picnic was to make my curtain-along jacket, but as you can see, that didn't happen.  I am a hopeless sheep when it comes to costumes, so when my wonderful friend from Before the Automobile decided that she was going to make a redingote for our event, I decided that I HAD to have one too!   I've been wanting a redingote for years and years, but I've always been intimidated by the tailoring involved.  Luckily several of my online friends who have made redingotes in the past helped me out and shared patterns, construction tips, and fabric sources to get me started.  I am SO grateful for their help!

I think one of the hardest parts of this project was trying to decide on a style.  I obsessed over the images on my redingote and riding habit pinterest board for months before finally settling on these two  portraits featuring redingotes from around 1790.   I love the extremely low pigeon-breasted look of the bodice on the left - especially when combined with the sash.  Once again, it's a perfect example of that late 18th c. transitional style that I love so much.

But instead of doing an exact copy of this first dress, I decided to combine it with elements of this second portrait that is undated, but has many similar elements in the overall style.  I loved the fringe, figured buttons, and the shape of the cuffs, so this gave me ways to dress up my redingote a little and make it more unique.

My dress is constructed from wool twill and lined with heavy linen, and it is 100% hand-sewn.  Because the color would have been impossible to match exactly, I made my own fringe from strips of the wool that I unraveled.  It is really easy to make your own fringe, and it actually goes faster than you would think.  My buttons are the large feather style pewter buttons from Quartermaster General.  They were shiny silver when I got them, but I added some black enamel paint in the recesses to make the design stand out better.  My neckerchief is made from silk organza, the petticoat is cotton voile, and my sash is satin.  The hat is a cheap straw gardening hat that I found at an estate sale.  I covered it with wool and decorated it with a vintage moire ribbon and a few feathers in a manner somewhat similar to the all-black hat shown at the bottom of this fashion plate.

I didn't take construction photos because I'm still a total novice when it comes to proper 18th c. dressmaking techniques, so I don't want to lead anybody astray or draw attention to all of my mistakes.  But I will tell you that I the lower lapels are interlined with heavy linen, and the capes are interlined with medium weight hair canvas.  Although the lapels worked just fine without the hair canvas, I wish I had interlined the front of the bodice with hair canvas.  Because the bodice is so extremely low cut there isn't much there to support the weight of the lapels, so it tends to droop a little and make wrinkles on the lower bodice.  I might try to retro-fit the bodice with some more interlining to see if that helps a little, but that was my only major complaint about the way it fits.  The capes were crazy looking at first because they were so stiff and perky, but after lots and lots of steaming and shaping over a tailor's ham, they decided to cooperate and lay nicely. I will also need to go back and re-hem my skirt at some point.  It's about an inch longer than it should be in the front, and the method that I used for the hem was a complete disaster.  I used the le point a rabattre sous la main stitch described in Costume Close Up, but the way the thread wraps around the edge of the hem makes it snag easily on just about anything, and my skirt was a puckered mess before the end of the picnic.  Oh well, lesson learned.  

One of the scariest parts about this project for me was figuring out the pattern for the bodice, so I thought I'd show you what my pattern pieces looked like.  Sometimes it's just nice to know what shapes you should be shooting for.  My pattern was made from a combination of draping and looking at the redingote pattern diagram from the book Die Kostümsammlung der Familie von Bassermann-Jordan als Beispiel für die zeitgenössische bürgerliche Mode von 1760-1870 by Heidede Biegler-Sander.  Although the huge lapels and capes look really fancy when they are done, they were very straight-forward to pattern.  I had to do a bit of alterations in the final fitting, but this still pretty close to what I used for my dress.

 

So that's about it.  I didn't get a lot of formal pictures of my dress last weekend, but maybe I'll get a chance to do some more this winter.  Thanks again to Cynthia and Christopher for letting me borrow a few of theirs, and once again, you can find more candid pics in my flickr.

BTW, this is my "OMG I'm at the GEORGIAN PICNIC" happy face!  :)

4th Annual Georgian Picnic

This past Saturday, the DFWCG hosted my favorite event of the year - our Georgian Picnic.  I'm having a hard time putting into words exactly how amazing this event was, so I'm just going to let some of my favorite the pictures do most of the talking.

Okay, I could keep going and going, but I'll just point you to my flickr album if you'd like to see more.  Many thanks to Christopher, Cynthia, and Maggie for letting me use several of their pics.  I'll be back to talk more about my new dress later this week.  

Hope to see you at next year's Georgian Picnic!