This project is finally finished! I started this dress back in July '24, thinking that I had plenty of time to finish it before my trip to Dickens on the Strand in December. Of course, I grossly underestimated my ability to get distracted, so I was, as is tradition, finishing this dress up in the hotel room the first night of the event. But hey, at least it was finished!
Things started with the skirt, which was based off several designs I kept seeing in 1850s fashion plates that have tiered skirts with ruffles on them. I had always slated that amazing plaid fabric for something mid-Victorian, and the ruffles seemed like a good way to accent such a busy fabric, and to help keep fabric usage down, as I only had 9 yards of the plaid.
The ruffles were attached to a plain black panel, which was then attached to a plaid panel, which was gathered onto the skirt base, which was also made of plain black taffeta.
I hadn't decided on a bodice design when I first started, and when it came time to make it I was definitely in a time crunch, so it's pretty much a straight make of Truly Victorian's TV440. The front closes with hooks and thread bars, but I ended up making it slightly too small, which led to gapping over the bust. I didn't have time to fully address this before the event, so I made a fichu in black taffeta that I could wear to cover it.
To make the fishu, I traced the back bodice pattern onto the fabric, then just drew in the tails in chalk. I mocked it up in cotton first, and then cut it out in taffeta. If I were to do it again, I would remember to put the taffeta on the bias so it would stretch over my bust correctly. The taffeta was also super slippery on top of the bodice, which was also taffeta, so even though I intended to wear it like a sontag, as seen above, I ended up wearing it with the tails down in front.
The undersleeves were finished in the hotel room just before my first event. You can't really see them in any of the pictures, but they definitely helped make the outfit feel complete, and I didn't have my naked forearms flapping around for all the world to see!
There's a much more in-depth writeup on my main costuming blog, including a lot of skirt math!
I do not knit, but I have seriously considered learning how, exclusively so I could make one of these.
We have a surprising number of these knitted jackets in museums, most of them of Italian origin, most likely from Naples or Venice. According to the V&A, it seems that they were made in workshops as individual panels that were sold as sets that could be sewn together at home. I'm partial to the green and gold ones, like this one from the Cleveland Museum of Art.
Knitted Jacket
1600s-1690s
Italy
Knitted silk jackets were fashionable in the early 17th century as informal dress. This example is very finely knit by hand in plain silk yarn and silk partially wrapped in silver thread, in contrasting colours of blue and yellow. Characteristic of this style of jacket, it has a border of basket weave stitch and an abstract floral design worked in stocking and reverse stocking stitches. The pattern imitates the designs seen in woven silk textiles. The jacket is finely finished with the sleeves lined in silk and completed with knitted cuffs. Along each centre front, a narrow strip of linen covered in blue silk has been added, with button holes and passementerie buttons, worked in silver thread. The provenance of the jacket indicates that it is probably Italian.
Victoria & Albert Museum (Accession number: 473-1893)
Hello, Stripes, you have my attention. ♥
La Mode: revue du monde élégant. Troisième année. Juillet. 1831. Paris. Pl. 166. Robes de Mousseline blanche et mousseline à raies brochées, façon de Melle Palmire. Coiffures de M. Hypolite — Bijoux de Chauffert, Palais royal. Bibliothèque nationale de France
if you like crafting and also free things, might i suggest the antique pattern library?
it’s a not for profit that’s gathering books, patterns, and other materials related to crafting that are out of copyright (or getting permission from copyright holders in some cases) in order to share them online. they scan items, clean them up, then make everything available for free!
free things are great, especially when you’re just starting to get into something. like oh, i’m supposed to spend money on this hobby i just picked up 20 minutes ago???
the first time i ended up on the site, i seriously spent hours just trawling through everything. there’s the usual suspects like knitting, crochet, embroidery, but there’s also woodwork, calligraphy, and books on things like how to mount and frame pictures. with cross stitch patterns, they also make modern charts with the dmc colour codes available.
links to their webbed site and instagram:
https://www.antiquepatternlibrary.org/
https://www.instagram.com/theantiquepatternlibrary/
behold, a glorious cat cross stitch pattern (link goes to antique pattern library page):
[image id: Multicolour charted cross stitch design of a cat sitting on a red pillow with tassels, holding a green ball]
For those interested in Victorian menswear, be sure to check out The Gazette of Fashion and Cutting Room Companion. It was a 19th century periodical that is geared toward tailors and is focused almost exclusively on menswear. Every volume is stuffed full of patterns, and the articles talk about trends in cut, style, and color each season. It's a fantastic resource and almost no one knows about it.
I've included a link to one of them (1870), but there are multiple volumes available for free on Google Books.
Really says something about the dire state of offerings for men interested in sewing their own clothes that even searching things like "interesting men's clothing patterns" brings up articles with links to four or five whole websites that primarily offer admittedly nice but practically identical patterns for making button-ups and work pants and maybe a varsity/bomber jacket if you're lucky.
(Branching out into historical costuming for everyday wear is like your one shot at variation, and even then, the ratio of men's to women's patterns on every website is frustrating to say the least.)
Patternmakers as a trans man I am begging you. Give me a little more to work with here.
The Párisi Udvar in Budapest, Hungary. Arcade/department store/ galleria built 1907-1913, in a mix of styles- venetian gothic, orientalism, jugendstil, renaissance.
1860s summer dress
La Compagnie du Costume
Was sifting through some late 16th/early 17th century stammbucher (basically little scrapbooks that people would collect cards, stamps, drawings, etc in, especially while travelling; their friends and family could also add little entries to your book, like memories, poems, drawings, or well wishes) in online libraries, and thought I'd share some fun images of people doing who knows what. Bowling for ladies? Running from cupid and getting tied to trees for it? Rolling around your really bendy dude? Just another Tuesday in 17th century Germany.
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)
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!
Wake up babe a new open access review about Ice Age fashion just dropped.
Paleolithic eyed needles and the evolution of dress (Science Advances 28 June 2024)
This article uses the spread of bone awls and needles to trace the evolution of clothing from simple, minimally protective coverings to finely tailored, insulating garments across the geography of the Last Glacial Maximum. Not surprisingly, needle use is associated with cold climates and the need for warm, fitted clothing. But the wide variation in needle size, including very small ones for fine, delicate work, along with frequent discovery of shell and bone beads showing use wear consistent with rubbing against clothing, shows the evolution of clothing into dress. Bodily adornment transitioned to clothing to mark identity and status.
Fig. 4. Puncture marks consistent with leather hole punching on a bone fragment at Canyars, Catalonia, dated to 39,600 cal B.P. Scale bars, 1 cm. Photos: L. Doyon, F. d’Errico.
Fig. 5. Morphological variation in the size and shape of Late Pleistocene eyed needles. Scale bar, 1 cm. Modified from d’Errico et al.
Fig. 2. Nassarius kraussianu shell beads from Blombos Cave Still Bay layers, southern Africa, dated to approximately 73,000 to 70,000 years ago. Arrows indicate use-wear facets. Photos: F. d’Errico [modified after d’Errico et al.]