La Mode nationale, no. 17, 25 avril 1896, Paris. Notre patron découpé (Grandeur naturelle). Corsage à pointe. Bibliothèque nationale de France
Détails et Explication du patron découpé:
Ce modèle forme pointe devant très court sur les hanches; des coques de même étoffe, doublèes de soie assortie, forment petite basque; les pinces sont ornées d'un galon brodé. (This model has a pointed front shape, very short on the hips; shells of the same fabric, lined with matching silk, form a small peplum; the clips are decorated with an embroidered braid.)
Ce patron se compose de six morceaux. (This pattern consists of six pieces.)
No. 1. — Le devant. (The front.)
No. 2. — Le premier côté; un cran indique le raccord au devant. (The first side; a notch indicates the connection at the front.)
No. 3. — Le deuxième côté; deux crans indiquent le raccord au premier côté. (The second side; two notches indicate the connection to the first side.)
No. 4. — Le jockey de la manche. (The jockey for the sleeve.)
No. 5. — Le dos, coupé long de façon à former une coque en repliant le bas à l'endroit indiqué par un cran de chaque côté. (The back, cut long so as to form a shell by folding the bottom at the place indicated by a notch on each side.)
No. 6. — La manche ballon, demi-longue; un trait à la roulette indique le dessous. (The balloon sleeve, half-length; a roulette line indicates the bottom.)
Métrage: 1m,50 tissu grande largeur; 0m,70 soie ou satin pour l'intérieur des coques.
My latest finished project, based off a couple of extant bodices and a fashion plate which all had this snazzy cross-over front feature.
I actually made the skirt a long time ago as a historybounding, everyday thing to wear. It has alternating panels of striped and solid black cotton, and has a scalloped hem. I love it and wear it often, and decided that I was going to make a matching bodice so I could wear it to costume events, too.
I draped the pattern myself, based off of a couple of extants. Each seam is boned with artificial whalebone and the seam allowances were tacked down by hand with a herringbone stitch. The peplum is lined with black cotton, but the rest is just lined with cheap plain white muslin to save on cost. The bodice closes up the center front with hooks and eyes, and then the wrap panels are folded over and closed at the side seams.
Brain gremlins about my weight are under the cut for those that don't want to read it.
I finished this outfit a while back, but I've been struggling with whether or not I wanted to post it. It's not the outfit, I think that it turned out fabulously. But I've been really unhappy about my weight, and it's been a fight to remind myself that my weight is not my worth. I keep hearing the negative things my mother would say whenever I would gain a pound or two or the "positive" things she'd say when I lost them (things like "oh, you have a chin again!" or "I can actually see your waist now.")
So I'm trying to ignore all that and remind myself how awesome this dress turned out, how hard I worked on it, and how proud I am of the construction of it.
Finally getting around to posting about my new 1850s undies! I finished them last winter, but Life happened, so here I am, a year and a half later.
Anyway, I finished a new crinoline and basic cotton petticoat first. The crinoline was made by first making the lower section out of cotton muslin, and attaching twill tape at even intervals. I then made each bone individually, the casing made from twill tape, then the boning threaded through, and then the bone stitched closed at the needed circumference. I played around with the size of each bone before I stitched it to the tapes to get the overall shape that I wanted.
To go over it, I made my standard cotton petticoat with a single flounce.
Then I actually got around to reading period descriptions and suggestions for petticoats in fashion magazines of the time, and found that they frequently recommended petticoats made of grosgrain fabric, with three flounces from the knee to the hem. So, I searched the internet and finally found some grosgrain fabric, which I had to order from Greece. (Spoiler alert - grosgrain and faille are pretty much indistinguishable, which I wish I'd known before because faille is way easier to find.)
Anyway, the construction of the petticoat was not difficult, but the grosgrain fabric was a nightmare. It frayed at the slightest touch, exploding into a thousand tiny shards. My serger was garbage and not working, so I used a side cutter presser foot instead, which sort of acts as a serger. It definitely helped, but by the time I discovered said presser foot, I was already so over this project that I threw it in the naughty corner for months because I couldn't stand to work on it anymore. I finally dug it out a few months later and finished it up.
I have to say, it does give an enormous amount of floof, but I would never, ever recommend making one to anyone else. It was a nightmare from start to finish.
There's a more detailed writeup with more of my petticoat research and in-progress photos on my main blog, so please do check it out!
The fill pattern on one half of the waistcoat is finished! Tonight I’ll work on the other side and the remainder of the embroidery on the second pocket flap, and hopefully have all the embroidery wrapped up by tomorrow. Then it’s on to construction!
bodice, waistcoat
c. 1615-1618
linen, silk, silver, silver-gilt, metal, hand-stitched
Glasgow Museums
The stripes! Why are stripes always *so* good? ♥
Le Follet, 1855, No. 1971 : Chapeaux Mme Naudé (…), anonymous, after Anaïs Colin-Toudouze, 1855 (x)
I've started another embroidered waistcoat! No, I haven't actually finished the other one yet, but I wanted to hone my tailoring skills a bit before I finished up the big fancy one. The photo on top is the actual extant waistcoat that I'm basing this one off of, and the bottom two pics are my in-progress embroidery. I'm aiming to have this project wrapped up in time for an event on the 16th of September.
This hits so many of my niche interests, it's perfect. ♥
My mom has been hoping to get her hands on a hard copy of A Stitch in Time, which, as I'm sure most of you are aware, tends to be pricey if you can find it. (It's currently listed for ~$115 on eBay, and more expensive elsewhere.)
So, I decided to put my bookbinding skills to use and make her one for her birthday.
Notes on the design and construction:
The cover design was inspired by (or rather adapted from via considerable photoshopping) this book cover from 1901 that happened to cross my dashboard in a post with a bunch of other cool old book covers:
I created the Cardassian building silhouettes based on a screencap, and the DS9 silhouette is borrowed from the Niners logo. The orchid on the back cover emerging from the Obsidian Order logo is one I found in Cricut Design Space.
(Feel free to use these in your own projects, if you like.)
The bookcloth is by BOOKCRAFTSUPPLYCO on Etsy (dark green). The cover designs are HTV, Cricut Everyday Iron-On (black), Cricut Foil Iron-On (gold), and Vinyl Frog Metallic Foil (holographic silver). The Cardassian Union logos on the end pages were done using Cricut's foil transfer system (gold). The fonts on the cover are DS9 Title and DS9 Credits from st-minutiae.com.
Le Bon Ton, Journal de modes. September 1854, v. 37, plate 7. Digital Collections of the Los Angeles Public Library
Jacket
1590-1630
Great Britain
This simple unlined jacket represents an informal style of clothing worn by women in the early 17th century. Unlike more fitted waistcoats, this loose, unshaped jacket may have been worn during pregnancy. A repeating pattern of curving scrolls covers the linen from which spring sweet peas, oak leaves, acorns, columbine, lilies, pansies, borage, hawthorn, strawberries and honeysuckle embroidered in coloured silks, silver and silver-gilt threads. The embroidery stitches include chain, stem, satin, dot and double-plait stitch, as well as knots and couching of the metal threads. Sleeves and sides are embroidered together with an insertion stitch in two shades of green instead of a conventionally sewn seam. Although exquisitely worked, this jacket is crudely cut from a single layer of linen, indicating the work of a seamstress or embroiderer, someone without a tailor's training. It has no cuffs, collar or lining, and the sleeves are cut in one piece. The jacket was later altered to fit a thinner person. The sleeves were taken off, the armholes re-shaped, the sides cut down, and the sleeves set in again.
The Victoria & Albert Museum (Accession number: 919-1873)
This is magnificent!
Holy shit, y’all have got to see this art deco dream of a quilt from Reddit: