The first dress complete - an 1840s striped day dress

43 days to go...

Apologies for the large gap in posting. I got rather carried away over the last few days with completing the first gown for Queen Victoria. This included a few late nights (including one where I found myself still stitching at 4am!) and as a result I haven't managed to squeeze in a post.

But here it is...the first gown.

Note: the neckline is very low so the chemise is currently showing at the neck. When worn, however, the dress will be teamed with a chemise that follows the neckline so that it doesn't poke out like this one does!

Strictly speaking, this dress is, in fact, a test run for the real thing. I will be making a second version of this dress in silk. However, it is always advisable, especially when using an original pattern that has been adapted like this one, to test the fit of the pattern in a cheaper material. Making a toile (a mock up in calico) is a good option, used by top designers in couture fashion, but in this case I also wanted to practise the techniques to ensure that all of the elements of the dress worked as I expected.

I therefore decided to make the dress completely from another fabric to test the fit and construction methods thoroughly before cutting my silk. This is, of course, more time consuming but avoids errors later and, on the plus side, leaves you with another completely wearable dress, unlike the mock-up method. It doesn't have to break the bank either.

The material I used for this dress was the lining of an old curtain. I bought (or should I say my Dad bought for me!) a pair of curtains in a vintage store. They were very large (about 3m squared) and were fully lined, with both the outer fabric and the lining suitable for making costumes. The fabric is a medium weight cotton and very easy to handle. Even better, I only needed the lining of one curtain for this gown so the fabric cost less than £12 which is not bad for a Victorian dress.

I started by constructing the bodice. Before stitching any of the pieces together I had to sew the piping along the seam lines.

Piping applied so that the cord lies just inside the seam line

The pieces were then sewn together, placing the stitches very closely along the edge of the piping cord. This means that the cord then appears of the outside of the garment along the seam lines. It is important for the stitching to be neat and as close to the cording as possible to achieve a neat line. I completed all of this stitching by hand. This allows for a neater finish as you have more control over the material when working by hand. It is also historically authentic as although the sewing machine did exist, it was not yet widely used at this period for making clothing, especially in the home.

Side view of the bodice showing the seam piping

As well as being decorative, this cording helps to emphasise the cut and shape of the bodice. The back seams in particular which sweep up and out from the waist create the illusion of a smaller waist and make the dress appear very wide at the shoulders.

The front of the dress has a deep point at the waist which is typical of this period and the bust area is shaped with long darts. Using the striped material to create chevron down the front of the gown is also something I have seen on original gowns from this period. Both of these features again help the waist to look even smaller than it actually is.

The skirts are attached following the line of the pointed bodice. The skirt fabric is folded to the inside along the top edge, with the fold tapering to a point at the centre front. The material is then cartridge pleated (find out more about cartridge pleating here) and stitched to the dress by hand. The pleating stands out over the hips, creating full skirts and emphasising the waist.

The sleeves also feature piping along both seams. They are cut with a curve that follows the natural curve of the arm. This allows the sleeve to be cut much tighter and still allow the arm to bend. The cuff are finished with piping with a slit at the wrist to allow the hand to pass through and are set into the bodice with a smooth sleeve head (no gathers on the shoulder).

Sleeve detail

All of the techniques worked with no problems so I am now ready to begin work on the silk version of this dress which will feature convertible sleeves to allow the dress to be worn in the day and the evening.

Preparing for piping

46 days to go...

The first dress is finally cut out and ready to go. However, before I could begin construction I had to take account of a very important feature of 1840s dress.

It was customary at this period for most of the bodice seams to be decorated with piping. Piping is when a narrow cord inside a tube of fabric is sandwiched into the seam. This creates a decorative cord along the seam line on the outside of the garment. This is most commonly used to today to finish the edges of cushions.

An example of cushions with piped seams (from here)

In the 1840s, piping was used to add definition and emphasise the seam lines of garments.

V&A_T.32-1940_Day Dress 1836-1840 - This cotton day dress has green contrast piping on all of the bodice seams, with a thicker double piping used to finish the bottom of the bodice.

So before beginning to stitch my bodice I had to prepare several metres of piping. I used a continuous bias strip cut from the fabric (find out how to cut one here). Using the bias (diagonal) of the fabric is important as it allows the piping to stretch and bend easily around curves and corners. This strip was folded in half lengthways and a thin blind cord tightly sewn into the fold.

From left to right: unfolded bias strip, folded bias, blind cord

With the cord sewn in to create the piping

All ready to be applied to the bodice

The next step will be to apply this to all the seams of the bodice prior to construction.

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.