Late 17th/early 18th century mantilla

What the item is: A stole, or mantilla.

There are two extant examples of this kind of garment in Scandinavia One in Denmark and one in Sweden. Both are made of black silk gauze and embroidered white silk. It’s a shawl, there the front is elongated with an extra panel. From the front this makes it look like a gown when worn. Both the extant mantillas have a stomacher made of the white fabric. The Swedish one is dated to the 1690’s, the Danish one to 1695-1709(ish)

Nationalmuseum, Denmark

Nordiska museet, Sweden

I’ve found very little information about this kind of garment. Ellen Andersen writes that this type of garment originated from Spain, and has been known since the late 16th century. In France it became popular in the 1720’s. Garsault mentions it in 1769, when he talks about how a lady should dress for court presentation:

If the Lady to be presented is not able to endure the heavily boned bodice [of a robe de cour] then she is allowed to wear a lighter one, covered with a mantilla, with the court train and petticoat.  As the mantilla covers the upper arm the top lace flounce, which would not be seen, is omitted.  The mantilla is made from any light material such as gauze, net, lace, etc.

I strongly suspect the boundaries between the kind of mantilla I have made, and one which is just a plain shawl, is very hazy. I have only found one painting where I’m almost sure the lady is wearing a mantilla. Christina Brodersonia, Carl Linneaus mother:

Source Linnè Hammarby, Sweden

It drapes the right way, but it may, of course, only be a shawl. There is certainly not difficult to find paintings of 18th century women wearing shawls. Most of them only show the upper half of the body.

It seems to me that this must be a versatile garment. It’s a lightweight wrap and worn over just stays and petticoats it must have been a good alternative for a hot day. It must also have been quite practical to wear during pregnancies.

The Challenge: Monochrome

Fabric: White silk brocade. Black silk habotai.

Pattern: I used the pattern in Danske Dragter , though adapting it to fit my own body. I aimed to keep the ratio between measurements the same as in the original pattern. In retrospect I could have cut the black silk shorter, but it still works. I omitted the stomacher as I realised I had enough brocade left to make a pair of stays, if I did so.

Year: 1695-1709, but can probably be stretched a bit further into the 18th century.

Notions: Silver lace and white sewing silk. I cut the lace down the middle to make it go further. Silk ribbons to bind the seams in.

How historically accurate is it? The pattern is made after an original garment. However, the original was made of white embroidered silk and black silk gauze. So I would say about 80%.

Hours to complete: I cut it all out just before Midsummer. It’s completely hand sewn and I have been sewing all summer, but I have no idea how many hours it took.

First worn: For these photos. I apologize for wearing a pair of 1780’s stays. All my other stays are in the attic, and I was feeling lazy. Period accurate makeup; pearl powder, burnt clove for the eyebrows and lip pomade coloured with alkanet. Reproduction earrings from Dames a la Mode. 

Total cost: 1045 Euro. One yard silk habotai: 13 Euro. Three yards of silk brocade: 60 Euro (but I will get a pair of stays out of it too). Fourteen yards of silver lace: 40 Euro. 18 yards of habotai silk ribbon: 32 Euro. Thread from my stash.

Sources: Andersen, Ellen, Danske Dragter: Moden i 1700-årene, Nationalmuseet, 1977

Brown, Carolina, Mode: klädedräktens historia genom fem sekler, Rabén & Sjögren, 1991

Waugh, Nora, The Cut of Women's Clothes, 1600-1930, Routledge, 1984

The HSM 2016: Challenge # 5: Holes

The fifth Historical Sew Monthly challenge is due May 31. The theme is holes and, of course technically, all clothes have holes, at least as soon as you go from a piece of material wrapped or draped around the body to a sewn garment. You simply cannot get into a garment if there isn’t openings in it. But holes can also serve a dual purpose combining utility with decoration. Or they can be there simply as an ornament. They can be punched and cut, the can form a circle or a slit or any other shape. There can even be more open space than material in a garment. I hope this post with a small sample of all kinds of holes will provide some inspiration.

Functional holes for lacing a bodice in blue glazed cotton, 1775-1800.

Digitalt museum

Holes necessary for adjusting the size of a corset.

Corset 1875-99, V&A

The buttonholes on this coat, dated to 1725-50, are both functional and decorative.

Metropolitan Museum of Art

A sideless gown where the necessity of arm holes also becomes a way to show off the garment underneath.

From Grandes Heures of Anne of Brittany, 1603-08. Wikimedia Commons

Gown by Lanvin from 1938 where the neckline that also provides a design element.

Metropolitan Museum of Art

The more holes in a bathing suit, the more places to get a lovely tan.

1920s bathing suit, back view. Metropolitan Museum of Art

Red doublet with decorative slits and a row of lacing holes to keep the breeches attached.

Wool doublet worn by Gustaf II Adolf of Sweden, 1620s. Livrustkammaren

A child’s bodice from the early 17th century where the open sleeves are tied with ribbons to form decorative slits.

Digitalt museum

Yellow silk dress from 1819 with decorative slits on the sleeveheads.

Back view. V&A

Red evening gown, c 1934 with the traditional lacing converted into a design element.

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Full length sleeveless negligée in pink silk satin from the 1930’s.

V&A

We wouldn’t have lace if there wasn’t any holes...

A woman’s waistcoat in drawn and pulled threadwork, 1630-39.

V&A

17th century collar in drawn lacework.

Livrustkammaren

Cotton lace cap from 1829

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Linen petticoat with eyelet embroidery, 1860-65

Metropolitan Museum of Art

Bobbin lace bodice front, 1865-75.

V&A

And let's not forget shoes, that can provide many variations of both functional and decorative holes.

Chopines, 17th century. Livrustkammaren

A woman's silk shoe, 17th century. Livrustkammaren

Boots, 1920s. V&A

1930s shoes

The (un)wired cap

My cap is done and though it turned out OK, it did not turn out the way I wanted it. It doesn't matter much, though, because I need several caps and the way this one turned out, it works very well for some of my clothes. I was aiming to make a small wired cap, suitable for the period 1740-60, the research can be found here and here but as you can see it isn't that small and more suitable for a lter period where a wired brim doesn't seem to have been popular anymore. So I decided to just starch the brim and leave it as that. My original plan was to make the wired cap with a lace brim, but decided on linen because I found that I had no leftover lace at home, so I'm not sad, now I can make it the way I wanted it to begin with. As I starched the brim, it did stand up a little on its own anyway.

I based my pattern on the shape of this cap on Duran Textiles, but made it smaller. Not small enough as it turned out, though. The band was cut out from what remained of my fabric, it got to be about 80 cm long, and when hemmed, 6 cm wide. Both cap and brim were then hemmed as narrowly as I could, which turned out to be about 3 mm. When I made my 17th century shirt I got the tip to lightly starch the fabric before hemming it and that made the process much easier.

The edge of the crown was gathered down to 36 cm and the brim pleated to the same measurement. Then I arranged it on my ironing board, roughly mimicking the shapr of the crown, you can see the pins holding it down.

Then I ironed it so all the pleats got flat, removing the pins as I went. After that I starched the brim as heavily as I could.

The last moments were to whipstitch crown and brim together and pleat the back. I wore it for the first time last Saturday when I held a lecture on 18th century makeup at Kristinehovs malmgård, an 18th century manor house in Stockholm. I paired it with b´my blue and white striped 1790's gown. The lecture was held in the Animal room, which holds an owl on the clock, a parrot on the lamp, mice on the floor and butterflies and birds on the walls. Here I am pointing at the bird's nest.

 

Close up on the bird's nest. The wall paper is a copy of an 18th century one found in the theatre at Drottningholm's castle.

The Challenge: #7 Tops and toes
Fabric: Lightweight linen
Pattern: Self-drafted but heavily influenced by one of the patterns found at Duran Textiles.
Year: Last half of the 18th century.
Notions: White sewing thread in silk, starch.
How historically accurate is it? Pretty accurate. The pattern isn't original, but it is hand-sewn and constructed in a similar manner to extant caps.
Hours to complete: 14
First worn: April 5 when I held a lecture on 18th century makeup.
Total cost: Don't know as I used linen scraps.

The Historically Sew Fortnightly- planned projects

After jumping on board on The Historically Sew Fortnightly I have also sat down and planned what to sew for the various challenges.
challenge #1, a year ends in '13. A long time ago, like 15 years, I embroidered a Teens blouse, white on white linen. I think this will be a good time to actually sew it together. My biggest concern is the fact that I’m bigger now than I was then. The back will probably fit, but perhaps not the front. But being white linen I think I could make an insert in the front without destroying the design. Or perhaps lace.

challenge #2, UFO, My idea is to try to finish UFO’s for most of the challenges, but here is one especially for it. Right now I lean toward the Robe de Cour I started last year. The bodice foundation is done, but I have changed what fabric it will be in. Instead of white velvet it will be in green taffeta.

challenge #3, Under it All, I have a pair of Regency stays to finish as well as brown 18thc century linen ones, but I will focus on the blue silk stays I started 3 years ago. They need two more boning channels sewn, the shoulder straps and bind them, but I got stalled when I misplaced the silk for the straps and didn’t find it again until this summer.

challenge #4 embellish I don’t think I have anything in need to embellishment,

challenge #5 Peasants and Pioneers. I might or might not participate in this one. I do have a need for a wool short gown and I do have red fabric for it, but I don’t know if I want to start up such a project now. If I do, however, I want to make this one, an extant example in Visby in Sweden.

Source

challenge #6, Stripes Same as above. I really want a striped 1790’s skirt and I have the fabric for it, but do I want to start a new project now?

challenge #7 is Accessorize Easy, to finish a late 18th century top hat. It’s half covered in green silk already.

I will of course, continue to work on my 40’s wardrobe and I won’t beat myself up if I miss a challenge.