I'm repeating myself a little here, but bear with me.
I’m starting anew project, or perhaps I should say that I re-start it. I bought the fabric for it several years ago, did the mock-up for the bodice and completely lost steam. I’m going to make Gustaf III national gown, the common version.
Background
Gustaf III was king of Sweden 1771-1792. He was a rather interesting personality and definitely a control freak- he wanted to have his say in everything. When most countries that saw a revolution in the 18th century did so to promote democracy, Gustaf III had a revolution and re-established his total sovereignty. But he did promote commoners in many aspects and when he was shot in 1792, it was a nobleman who held the gun. Gustaf III was a man of many interest, among them history, music and theatre and it’s mainly because of him that Sweden has such a nice collection of historical clothes.
He also had an interest in clothes and in 1778 came a clothing reform for the upper classes.
The idea had to do with economy, but it also connected with the idea of national pride, an idea that the 19th century evolved. The national suit lent many featured from former fashion. The men’s suit consisted of a short jacket, waistcoat, breeches and a short cloak. For men of the court it was black with red details for everyday wear and light blue with white details for gala. It became a quite popular, an 18th century equivalent of the 3 piece suit. You knew you were always right in a national suit. Men not at court could wear it in any colour, and several have been preserved. Gustaf III himself seems to have preferred it and about ¾ of his suits were of the national cut, at the time of his death.
The ladies, however, seem not to have liked their gown. It consisted of a petticoat, worn over pocket hoops, a sleeveless bodice, laced in the back and a robe, cut as a polonaise.
It was to be black, with red derails (or blue or yellow, if you belonged to the Queen or the King’s mother’s court). For gala it was at first red with white details, perhaps as a tribute to the Queen who was Danish, but it was very quickly changed to a white gown with blue details. What were considered so terribly old-fashioned were the high collar and the poufy sleeves. For ladies of the court the sleeves were white with a black lattice work, for other ladies the sleeves were worn in two poufs. Another difference between court gown and common gown was the train. It was longer on the court gown and was to be worn down- just hitched up at the front sides. The common gown was worn a la polonaise.
The cut of the women’s gown, very quickly adapted to fashion and the only remaining national gown is cut like an anglaise. It’s a common gown and was used for a wedding in 1780.
The high collar was quickly disregarded, as was the way of keeping the train down. What did remain, despite being so old-fashioned, were the latticed sleeves. Through the 19th century it was used with a black, contemporary gown, at court functions. And as late as the 1950’s, girl being presented at court wore it for their first time.
The petticoat
As I’ve mentioned, it was worn over pocket hoops, which seems to have been to only thing that the ladies of the court found positive about it. Understandable, as they were used of wearing the very formal robe de cour:
Bit of a difference, yes?
The national suit was much easier to wear, and not as elaborate embellished either. The petticoat simply has two rows of pleated self-fabric, one wide and one narrow. I’m making my gown out of black silk taffeta and I’m starting with the petticoat. The best written text about the extant gown is from the 1930’s and though it gives the pattern, it gives rather sparse details of the construction. It does say that the petticoat has openings in both sides and that it’s closed with hooks and eyes, but not if the closure is at the sides or in the back. So I’m making my petticoat in the same was I always do.
I cut two skirt lengths of the fabric and then I cut the top in an arc, so the centre front is lower then the top. I do this to accommodate for the hoop and if you look in Janet Arnold, for example, you can see that the petticoats there are longer over the hip. It’s important to do this adjustment at the top- if you lengthen the petticoat at the sides instead, it will drape all wrong. TA the top of the picture you can see one of the skirt lengths folded in half and cut. How much you cut depends on the size of the hoop. For my pocket hoop, a difference of 13 centimetres works well.
Underneath is the other length, pleated down. As you can see I’m in the process of basting the pleats after being pinned down. I do this before I sew the fabric pieces together, as it’s easier to handle less fabric.
I will sew the sides together, stopping some 15 centimetres from the top. I prefer to close my petticoats at the sides, so I will sew the front to one waistband and the back to another. Then I will sew ribbons at the sides, so I can tie the petticoat close.
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Monday, 28 September 2009
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
Family portraits
I love watching old photographs; they are a great resource when it comes to fashion. And it’s especially fun to do it when it’s family. So here are a couple of my great-grandmothers.
My father’s paternal grandmother Elisa, my namesake. The photo is taken in 1890 when she was ten years old. She was something of a tom-boy, there are letters from her mother to her father where it says; Elin (Elisa's older sister) is daily to my help and joy, but Elisa brings me to despair with her wild ways.
Elisa was a very talented musician and wanted to be a concert pianist, but that was an unthinkable career for a wealthy girl from a manor house at that time. She rebelled in her own way, I suppose, when she married my great-grandfather, who came from really poor circumstances, though he had worked himself upward with the help of a brilliant brain.
The shape of her eyes is a very distinct family characteristic, and it can be traced back as far as there are photos, i.e. to around 1850. My grandfather had them to, and so have my father and his siblings. I have the general shape, though not as heavy-lidded, but I look at her hands and I realize that mine are the same and so is my son’s.
And this is her mother, Laura. I love her dress. I’m not sure when this portrait was taken, but she was born in 1840 and died sometime in the 1890’s. One of her ancestress, and therefore mine too, was Ingela Hammar, probably the only female privateer Sweden has ever had. She was married to Lasse i Gatan and ran the privateer business with him, and also, successfully, after his death.
An unknown relative.
My father’s maternal grandmother Lydia aged four, with her little brother. She was born in the 1880’s.
And at 15.
25 years old. If I inherited my eyes and hands from Elisa, Lydia gave me the rest. She’s much prettier than I am, but I resemble her quite a bit.
Her mother Matilda. She was a Walloon and one of her ancestress was accused, but aquitted of being a witch in the late 17th century. I would like to know more about that trial.
My father’s paternal grandmother Elisa, my namesake. The photo is taken in 1890 when she was ten years old. She was something of a tom-boy, there are letters from her mother to her father where it says; Elin (Elisa's older sister) is daily to my help and joy, but Elisa brings me to despair with her wild ways.
Elisa was a very talented musician and wanted to be a concert pianist, but that was an unthinkable career for a wealthy girl from a manor house at that time. She rebelled in her own way, I suppose, when she married my great-grandfather, who came from really poor circumstances, though he had worked himself upward with the help of a brilliant brain.
The shape of her eyes is a very distinct family characteristic, and it can be traced back as far as there are photos, i.e. to around 1850. My grandfather had them to, and so have my father and his siblings. I have the general shape, though not as heavy-lidded, but I look at her hands and I realize that mine are the same and so is my son’s.
And this is her mother, Laura. I love her dress. I’m not sure when this portrait was taken, but she was born in 1840 and died sometime in the 1890’s. One of her ancestress, and therefore mine too, was Ingela Hammar, probably the only female privateer Sweden has ever had. She was married to Lasse i Gatan and ran the privateer business with him, and also, successfully, after his death.
An unknown relative.
My father’s maternal grandmother Lydia aged four, with her little brother. She was born in the 1880’s.
And at 15.
25 years old. If I inherited my eyes and hands from Elisa, Lydia gave me the rest. She’s much prettier than I am, but I resemble her quite a bit.
Her mother Matilda. She was a Walloon and one of her ancestress was accused, but aquitted of being a witch in the late 17th century. I would like to know more about that trial.
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Vauxhall at Kristinehof
The Vauxhall was quite lovely and I really enjoyed myself. I was also very pleased with my gown. I made a small pad for the back, which I think improved the look.
Frida kindly acted out 18th century cat before we left. Isn't she adorable? She's completely blind, but that doesn't stop her from much.
Annali was very elegant in hat and spencer, but the gown in itself was very pretty too. I love the back!
Borrowing and trying out Annali's hat.
I think formidable is the right word for carinarosen here.
Sisters
Madame Berg
It was a beautiful and warm evening, so we enjoyed a game of “Questions and answers” in the garden.
Monsieur J, obviously channelling Gustaf III...
A few more pictures can be found at Gustafs Skål's blogg:
http://gustafsskal.blogspot.com/2009/09/vauxhallen-borjar-min-bror-mangden-ar.html
Frida kindly acted out 18th century cat before we left. Isn't she adorable? She's completely blind, but that doesn't stop her from much.
Annali was very elegant in hat and spencer, but the gown in itself was very pretty too. I love the back!
Borrowing and trying out Annali's hat.
I think formidable is the right word for carinarosen here.
Sisters
Madame Berg
It was a beautiful and warm evening, so we enjoyed a game of “Questions and answers” in the garden.
Monsieur J, obviously channelling Gustaf III...
A few more pictures can be found at Gustafs Skål's blogg:
http://gustafsskal.blogspot.com/2009/09/vauxhallen-borjar-min-bror-mangden-ar.html
Thursday, 17 September 2009
The finished gown
The gown is finished! Two days before I need it, this must be a famous first for me.
As I didn’t have enough fabric to make a draped front, I decided to do the same kind of front as I did on the 1790’s round gown.
There are gowns from the early 19th century that’s virtually sewn as this gown, only with a higher waist, so it felt like a logic decision when my first plan didn’t work out.
The lining is pinned over the chest and then the front closes with a drawstring, which also gathers it. The waist is a bit higher, though not as high as Regency gown later becomes.
The skirt is cartridge pleated to the back.
I deliberately left the sleeves unlined. As the whole of the gown is lined I wanted a little skin to be seen through the holes in the fabric, somewhere. The waist sits between my real waist and my breasts.
I think I will do a small pad for the back. Apart from that, I think that the back is what I’m most pleased with on this gown.
As I didn’t have enough fabric to make a draped front, I decided to do the same kind of front as I did on the 1790’s round gown.
There are gowns from the early 19th century that’s virtually sewn as this gown, only with a higher waist, so it felt like a logic decision when my first plan didn’t work out.
The lining is pinned over the chest and then the front closes with a drawstring, which also gathers it. The waist is a bit higher, though not as high as Regency gown later becomes.
The skirt is cartridge pleated to the back.
I deliberately left the sleeves unlined. As the whole of the gown is lined I wanted a little skin to be seen through the holes in the fabric, somewhere. The waist sits between my real waist and my breasts.
I think I will do a small pad for the back. Apart from that, I think that the back is what I’m most pleased with on this gown.
I’ve got my sewing mojo back!
Most things in my life go very well at the moment and that spills over to me sewing too. Much appreciated, as I sew pretty slowly. So not only have a finished my 1797’s gown, but I’ve also come quite a bit on my fifties skirt.
It’s made out of rust-coloured wool, a bit browner than the pic. It has a raised front with two darts.
Two panels in front and four in the back, the extra width pleated towards CB.
I really like the back. I need to sew the pleats down now and then it just need waistband, hemming and lining. Yay me!
Two panels in front and four in the back, the extra width pleated towards CB.
I really like the back. I need to sew the pleats down now and then it just need waistband, hemming and lining. Yay me!
Monday, 14 September 2009
Almost done
I feel a bit strange. The 1797's gown only need to be hemmed and then I'm done. And it's only Monday! Can it be possible that I won't stay up half night before Friday for the last frantic sewing? I'm sure I have done a big mistake somewhere... And I do still have to make a sash.
I've also sewn my fifties skirt together, next step is to press and put in the waistband. I ended up not doing it in cotton, as I realized I hadn't enough fabric. Instead it's made in rust-coloured wool. Autumn-skirt, anyone?
I've also sewn my fifties skirt together, next step is to press and put in the waistband. I ended up not doing it in cotton, as I realized I hadn't enough fabric. Instead it's made in rust-coloured wool. Autumn-skirt, anyone?
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Fifties skirt
Yesterday I suddenly felt fed up with hemming endless white linen and cut out a skirt instead. I’ve been wanting to make this dress for a while:
http://www.voguepatterns.com/item/V1084.htm?tab=vintage_vogue&page=1
At the moment I need skirts more than anything else, so I just omitted the top. I like the way the width is collected to the back, and it will be interesting how it turns out in fabric. I’m making it in a printed cotton, rather sturdy. If it turns out to look as nice as I hope for, then I’ll probably make more skirts out of this pattern.
http://www.voguepatterns.com/item/V1084.htm?tab=vintage_vogue&page=1
At the moment I need skirts more than anything else, so I just omitted the top. I like the way the width is collected to the back, and it will be interesting how it turns out in fabric. I’m making it in a printed cotton, rather sturdy. If it turns out to look as nice as I hope for, then I’ll probably make more skirts out of this pattern.
Monday, 7 September 2009
The adventures of the incredibly shrinking Isis
The progress of my 1797’s gown is going very well. I used my basic 18th century bodice-pattern, modified accordingly. I last used it in May, and now I found I had to remove about 2 inches, mostly in the back. I’m pleased, of course, but I realize that this is a drawback with losing weight over a long period. I progress steadily and slowly, just as I want, but my clothes don’t shrink with me. I wonder how many times I will need to change my pattern before I’m done. And how many garment I will need to change. It’s not really a big deal- the benefits of doing this slowly are far greater than some sewing hassles, but it does take away a little of the joy in sewing, knowing it will need to be changed soon.
And my chest stubbornly refuses to let go of excess fat. 14 kilos gone and I’ve progressed from a 34HHH to a 34HH. I predict that I will end up looking very silly.
But, back to the gown. Here’s the toile after the first fitting. I needed to take away rather a lot in the back. And after the second fitting, some more at the sides.
As the bodice is pleated to the lining, I cut up half of the toile and spread it out on the fabric. I did an approximate of the original bodice’s width, and how much I would need, being a bigger woman. Also, I did not try to copy the pleat placement of the original. I used them as a guide and then pleated it to fit my own body.
Here I stumbled. The original has a smooth front, and then a pleated piece of fabric is added to give the v-shape. However, my fabric, an embroidered linen, was bought on sale a couple of years ago, long before I had this project in mind. Of course, I ought to have measured and thought before I cut it all up, but I didn’t and now I have to pay the price. However, I cut the front a bit long, so instead of the pleated piece, I can gather the front with a drawstring instead. Not quite what I wanted, but period nevertheless. So now I’m working on setting in the sleeves. The skirt is finished, so the next step is to pit bodice and skirt together.
And my chest stubbornly refuses to let go of excess fat. 14 kilos gone and I’ve progressed from a 34HHH to a 34HH. I predict that I will end up looking very silly.
But, back to the gown. Here’s the toile after the first fitting. I needed to take away rather a lot in the back. And after the second fitting, some more at the sides.
As the bodice is pleated to the lining, I cut up half of the toile and spread it out on the fabric. I did an approximate of the original bodice’s width, and how much I would need, being a bigger woman. Also, I did not try to copy the pleat placement of the original. I used them as a guide and then pleated it to fit my own body.
Here I stumbled. The original has a smooth front, and then a pleated piece of fabric is added to give the v-shape. However, my fabric, an embroidered linen, was bought on sale a couple of years ago, long before I had this project in mind. Of course, I ought to have measured and thought before I cut it all up, but I didn’t and now I have to pay the price. However, I cut the front a bit long, so instead of the pleated piece, I can gather the front with a drawstring instead. Not quite what I wanted, but period nevertheless. So now I’m working on setting in the sleeves. The skirt is finished, so the next step is to pit bodice and skirt together.