Drafting and resizing an original pattern

48 days to go...

Firstly, apologies for the lateness of this post which can be blamed on the Glasgow Subway replacement bus service. I was home rather later than planned the other evening when a 15 minute journey took an hour and 15 minutes. As a result, I didn't get a chance to upload this post as planned.

In the meantime, work has been progressing well on the pattern for the dress and I thought I would share a little of the process of adapting an original pattern to fit.

To begin with, it is wise to have a number of tools and materials handy.

To scale the pattern up to full size, squared pattern paper is a must. The original pattern is printed on squared paper on 1/8inch squares. I marked my centimetre squared paper with a cross every 2.5cm to get square inches. Then, by counting the squares and replicating the lines of the original pattern in relation to the squares made a full size copy of the pattern.

Next, I took measurements of each of the pieces to figure out the size of the original wearer. I made notes on the flat pattern pieces but the most accurate measurements were made after taping the seams with masking tape to put the pattern together. In 3-D form it was much easier to see exactly where the waist and bust of the garment were and to measure for example the arm scye (armhole).

As suspected, she was a tiny lady compared to today's standards. Not only did she have a 24inch waist but she appears to have been very short from the neck to the waist. On the other hand, her bust was surprisingly big in comparison to her waist measurement. However, portraits from this era do show a very wide, high bust line and the gored corset tends to lift and exaggerate the bust.

Grand Duchess Alexandra Nikolaevna of Russia, Princess of Hesse-Kassel 1840 (image found here) - although probably somewhat exaggerated, this portrait shows the large difference between the bust and waist that was fashionable at this time

Nevertheless, this made altering the pattern to fit something of a challenge. Since the bust was almost big enough but the waist 5 inches too small, this was not simply a case of adding a bigger seam allowance. Furthermore, the arm syces on the original pattern were extremely small, and whilst tight, low set sleeves were a feature in the 1840s, I needed to do something to ensure that I would be able to move my arms.

My first move was to compare my measurements to the pattern and then, using various calculations to determine the ratios and proportions of each section of the pattern, draw up new pattern pieces. The aim was to ensure the each piece of the pattern retained the same proportion in relation to the others whilst being made bigger. Once I had the general shape, I then altered the lines to reflect the fact that the difference between my bust and waist would not be as exaggerated as that of the lady who originally wore the dress. I won't go into too much detail here as this was quite a technical and mathematical process but please ask questions if you would like to find out more.

Some of the notes and calculations!

Once I had the new pattern pieces, I cut these out and taped all of the seams with masking tape. I could then try the paper bodice onto Gertrude, my dress form, over the corset and petticoats. This allowed me to see where the pattern fitted and which areas needed to be adjusted. Any loose areas of paper were pinched into darts and pinned flat. Extra paper was taped to the edges and between panels where the pattern didn't fit and new seam lines and edges drawn on.

Pinning the front - notice the tuck in the side panel below the bust

Adding paper to the shoulder and underarms and drawing new seam lines

Excess paper trimmed away on the new seam lines

Once the pattern fitted Gertrude perfectly, I removed it from the mannequin and cut the pieces apart along the new seam lines. I then drew around these news pieces and added seam allowances to make the pattern pieces I would need to cut the fabric.

Looking like a bodice - the pattern removed from the mannequin

The new pattern pieces

The next stage is to test these pieces in lining fabric with the sleeves before beginning to make up the dress in a test fabric. I will be making a complete dress in cotton fabric salvaged from some old curtains before making this pattern in silk. This will mean I have an extra dress suitable for wearing in less favourable weather conditions (although I have been promised glorious sunshine for the whole week!) and will avoid any mistakes being made with the more expensive silk.

The pattern for the dresses

49 days to go...

Today it was finally time to start work on the dresses themselves. In order to make Victoria's costumes as authentic as possible, I have decided to use a pattern from Janet Arnold's "Patterns of Fashion 1".

This wonderful series of books offers detailed drawing and patterns for original dresses in museum collections around the UK. Careful measurements taken from the garments were used by Arnold to draft patterns that allow us to essentially recreate the real thing. These patterns are complete with detailed annotations on the construction techniques used to put the dresses together.

The dress I have chosen as the basis for my pattern is a day dress in The Gallery of English Costume in Manchester (now The Gallery of Costume). The dress is dated c.1839-1845 and is described as,

"A day dress in a delicate shade of deep beige. The fabric is a silk and cashmere mixture with a soft, glossy finish. The two piece straight sleeves are decorated with double crossway pieces, which are trimmed with piping and bouillons. The neckline would have been edged with lace or worn with a chemisette. The bodice is decorated with flat, pleated folds of the same fabric as the dress. which descend from the shoulder to the centre front." ((Arnold, p64)*

 The only drawback of these patterns is the size. In contrast to commercially available patterns such as Truly Victorian, Laughing Moon and The Mantua Maker, you cannot simply pick your size and happily cut away. Firstly, each dress is unique and the pattern reproduces the exact size of the original wearer - for the most part rather small! Furthermore, the patterns have then been scaled down to 1:8 for printing. A little preparation, calculation and experimentation is therefore required to obtain a usable pattern.

Visit tomorrow to find out more about how I created the bodice pattern for Queen Victoria's gowns using this pattern.

*References
Janet Arnold, Patterns of Fashion 1, Englishwomen's dresses and their construction c.1660-1860,(Macmillan, London, 1977).

All flounced out!

50 days to go...

Hooray! All of the structural undergarments are complete. To add to the corset and the corded petticoat, a second flounced petticoat adds the final touches to the silhouette.

The petticoat is constructed of a base layer, pleated into the waist, onto which long strips of fabric are gathered to create the three layers of flounces. The petticoat fastens with a tape passed through the waistband channel.

Gathering the first flounce onto the hem of the petticoat

The layered flounces of material help to hold out the skirts to create the bell-shaped silhouette of the late 1840s and early 1850s. Strictly speaking, flounced petticoats were more often seen later in the 1850s when they were worn over the cage crinolines to soften the outline and disguise the steel bones.

This cartoon appeared in Punch magazine in January 1857. The lady on the right is blowing into a tube to inflate her crinoline (inflatable petticoats were a genuine invention). Her skirt demonstrates the kind of flounces that could also be applied to petticoats - "stiff muslin petticoats flounced set out the dress" (Cunningham, p248)

Before this it was the custom to wear multiple single petticoats to support the skirts. According to C. Willett Cunningham, author of " Englishwomen's Clothing in the Nineteenth Century",

"It was usual to wear a number [of petticoats], depending on the season; the undermost was short and of some stiff material...Over this was worn one or more flannel petticoats, in winter, and above them a plain and above that an embroidered petticoat...The outermost petticoat, of cambric, was elaborately embroidered and trimmed and trimmed with embroidery, crochet or lace." (Cunningham, p165-166)

Indeed, some people claim that as many as twelve petticoats were being worn to support increasingly large skirts in the 1850s, prior to the invention of the cage crinoline. Not only this, but the petticoats would have been heavily starched to hold their shape and support the skirts of the dress.

Even at the time it was recognised that such a great deal of underclothing was heavy, hot, restrictive and unhygienic, not to mention the fact that all the layers could add inches to the waist! For the modern re-enactor it therefore makes sense to compromise a little to avoid too much discomfort when in costume. A flounced petticoat adds extra volume to the petticoats using less material and is therefore more cost effective and lighter to wear. Furthermore, the anachronism is only slight. Throughout the 1840s, flounces were a key feature of fashionable skirts. It is therefore not inconceivable that some women may have added flounces to their petticoats.

An 1840s fashion plate from the French magazine "Le Follet" show a skirt with three, tiered flounces like those on my petticoat (Image found here)

 The fact that is practically impossible to find a surviving example of such a petticoat from this period does not necessarily discredit this theory since so few petticoats survive at all, being as they were largely utilitarian and made of fabrics likely to be re-purposed when the garments were no longer fit to wear.

*References:
C. Willett Cunningham, Englishwomen's Clothing in the Nineteenth Century (Faber and Faber Ltd, London, 1937, reprinted by Dover, 1990)

The first petticoat

53 days to go and the first petticoat is complete.

A total of 31 rows of cotton cord have been sewn into petticoat to stiffen the hem and create this shape. The petticoat will also be heavily starched to help it stand up under the dress. A deep, shaped waist-band helps to minimise bulk at the waist. Although this is not common in extant petticoats, I have seen some examples with a deep yoke and when wearing multiple layers this helps immensely to preserve the line of the figure created by the corset.

The skirt is cartridge pleated and hand-stitched to the waistband. Cartridge pleats are formed when evenly spaced gathering stitches are drawn up to pull the fabric into pleats like a concertina. The back of each pleat is then secured with a stitch through the waistband. At the back, the pleats stand away from the waistband three-dimensionally and this helps to give the pleats a little extra kick to make the petticoat stand away from the body.

Cartridge Pleats in progress

Over this petticoat, a second flounced petticoat will help to add softness to the silhouette and bulk out the skirts, before a final, lace-hemmed petticoat is added to smooth over all of the layers. By the early 1850s, women had to wear multiple petticoats to support the increasingly large skirts that were fashionable - sometimes as many as twelve. The invention of the cage-crinoline, as oppressive as it may appear to modern eyes, was therefore undoubtedly a relief to many women as it was certainly lighter, cooler, less-restrictive and more hygienic than the huge quantities of petticoats they were used to wearing.

Structural engineering

56 days to go and work continues on the corded petticoat.

So far 24 rows, totalling 48 metres of cording have been sewn into the hem of this petticoat. The 1/4" cotton cord is sandwiched between two layers of cotton and sewn tightly into parallel channels to create a ridged effect. These cords will give the petticoat structure to support the skirts of the dress. The cording will continue up the petticoat to just below hip level. The top will then be cartridge pleated onto a waistband to draw in the excess fabric and create the bell-shape that was fashionable in the 1840s and early 1850s.

One down, a dozen or so to go!

57 days to go and the corset is complete.

Front view an the mannequin

The finishing touches included binding the top and bottom of the corset, stitching the flossing (decorative stitches that help keep the boning in place) and neatening and finishing all of the edges inside the corset.

I used strips of blue linen cut on the bias (diagonally across the material to allow some stretch) to bind the edges of the corset. These strips were hand-stitched to the corset from the outside and then folded over and slip-stitched to the inside to cover and reinforce the raw edges.

Applying the linen binding to the edges of the corset

Then, once all of the loose edges had been carefully stitched down on the inside of the corset, it was time for the flossing. The term flossing refers to embroidery stitches used specifically on corsets that were designed to keep the bones in place and prevent them from moving around and poking through the fabric of the corset. As well as this practical function, they were also highly decorative and used to enhance the aesthetic appearance of corset, especially when worked in contrasting colours. For an excellent tutorial on how to create flossing stitches visit Sidney Eileen.com

An example of decorative flossing stitches on an original corset, 1893-97, Glasgow Museums, PP.2002.8.13_02

The flossing on my corset was worked using the same cotton floss as the other embroidery. The criss-crossed stitches cradle the end of each bone and extend up the sides to hold them firmly in their channels. These stitches are worked right through all the layers of the corset.

Flossing at the lower edge of the corset

And finally, fully laced with 7m of cotton lacing, the corset is ready to be worn. The next step in the project will now be to complete the petticoats. It is important to have all of the layers of underwear in place before starting the outer garments as Victorian clothes were very tight fitting. For gowns to be able to hug the figure and lie smoothly, very careful measurements should always be taken over the underwear to ensure a perfect fit.

A back view of the corset lacing

When home sewing becomes DIY

60 days to go and time to bone the corset.

In the nineteenth century, corsets could be boned with whalebone (actually the baleen, or teeth of the whale) or, thanks to advances in industrial technology, steel. Whalebone was a particular favourite as this natural material which has a consistency somewhere between hair and horn is light, elastic and flexible. Whalebone could be split into thin strips and still retain all of these features and, if softened in hot water, could be shaped to the form of the corset where it would remain set once dry and cold. However, the great demand for baleen meant that the numbers of these magnificent creatures dwindled as they were constantly hunted. The answer to the scarcity and rising price of whalebone was steel. By the mid century spring  steel had been invented, flexible enough to bend to the shape of the corset.*

An example of baleen on display in Colonial Williamsburg. Picture from The Two Nerdy History Girls. Click here to read their interesting short article on baleen.

This is the material used for corsetry today. Solid steel or spiral steel (tightly coiled and flattened wire) bones provide excellent support for garments such as corsets, but are light and flexible enough to shape to the body. Corsets are also still fastened with steel busks (wide, strong bones with hook and stud closures) and metal lacing eyelets, patented in 1829 and 1828 respectively.

The two halves of the busk are inserted between the corset and facing at the front edges. Spaces in the stitching allow the hooks to poke through the seam and an awl is used to pierce holes for the studs. And in a taste of what is to come, safety goggles are worn when sewing around the busk as sewing machine needles break and fly up in the air very easily if they accidentally hit the steel!

Front fastening buck inserted

 For the next stage even more DIY tools are required. Setting the lacing grommets in the back of the corset involves no sewing whatsoever but a fair amount of hammering. The grommets (or eyelets) come in two parts. The side with the long shaft is inserted through a hole pierced in the right position and the second side, resembling a washer is placed over this. A special tool is then used which, when hit with a hammer, forces the shaft to roll back over the washer to secure the eyelet in position.

An array of tools for setting the grommets

The two halves of an eyelet

The grommet setting tool in action

And a good whack with a hammer!

Finally the bones themselves can be inserted into the channels sewn earlier. I was using continuous spiral steel for this project, so once again raided the tool box for lethal looking items to try to cut the steel (not an easy job) and fix the end caps in position. With the bones cut to the tight length and the ends finished, these were then inserted into the channels ready or the top edges of the corset to be bound.

Scary wire and tools...and the safety goggles again because this stuff springs everywhere!

Close up of the spiral wire

And finally, the result. One corset ready to be finished tomorrow:

Front with busk

The back with eyelets

 * References

Norah Waugh, Corsets and Crinolines (Routledge/Theatre Art Books, Oxon, 1954).