Centuries-Sewing

Category: 16th Century

The Red Pisa Gown: Experiment with quilted interlining

After a year of putting the skirt together I have returned to making the “Pisa” Gown. This was not a planned execution back into the fray and fluff of velvet, but rather a unhinged returned after being driven half mad by Tudor skirts and lots of ironing. But more on that later.

After my experiments with buckram and pad stitching I decided the first bodice I started on was a learning experience. I had yet to cut the final velvet layer so I didn’t feel too bad starting over. I used my tweaked block pattern and then got cold feet for a few days over the style of the bodice point.

Eleanora’s grave gown and the Pisa gown are both cut with a very steep dropped waist. I’m a bit smaller then Eleanora, based on the clothing measurements in the back of Pattern’s of fashion, and that steep of a point does not look good on me, so after some debate I cut the waist with a bit more curve at the waist to the point, rather then a straight line.

The final pattern shape.

The bodice taken care of I had to decide how I was going to stiffen it. I’ve found that gown interlinings need to either be stiff enough to shape the body or soft enough to mold with the body, if it is between those two extremes you get creases and wrinkles.

Usually just a layer of twill or canvas works well for me, but Moda mentioned the use of felt interlinings which I’ve wanted to try since reading about it.

I did not have any felt on hand nor could I run out to the store at 3am, but I did have some cotton needle punched quilt batting and decided that was close enough.

A layer of twill, batting and another layer of twill.

What I used:

Washed cotton twill: 1 yard
Warm and natural cotton batting: 1/2 a yard
muslin (cut the pattern with straps and seam allowances): 1 yard

I cut two layers of cotton twill, and a layer of the batting with seam allowances but without straps. Those were stacked in a twill, batting, twill sandwich, pinned and then the whole thing zig-zag stitched together.

The padded interlining zig zag stitched together.

I did the same thing for the back stopping each row before I got to the seam allowances, pivoting the interlining and then starting a new row. In the end the whole thing had almost a corded appearance. (Which might just be from some tension issues with the machine.)

With both pieces done I basted them by hand to a layer of muslin, sewing just the outer layer of twill to it. (The twill layer laying against the muslin).

The padded interlining basted to muslin.

Cutting away the batting seam allowance, the twill soon to follow.

I then cut away the seam allowances and in a little bit more, of the batting and the twill layer facing me. This reduces the bulk and means I will not be sewing eyelets through batting. The muslin is then basted to the velvet fabric all around save for the waist line which is left open.

July 30, 2011
Make and Mend: Repairing my Torn Smock

I hate making Tudor/Elizabethan smocks and shirts. They are boring, all the rectangles and squares don’t provide much of a technical challenge, save for a bit of fussing when setting in a gusset if you do it by machine.

Patterns of Fashion 4 has shown me the charm of a well made smock when bedecked with lace, embroidery and silk buttonhole twist. Enough that I have plans of making at least one by hand. That will take several weeks, and in the mean time I have other projects I want to work on and the one low cut smock I have (Yes only one.) has started to tear.

It is made out of plain cotton muslin rather then linen, but the fabric is still serviceable and I don’t mind wearing it.

The tear happened right where there shoulder and chest area meet at a corner, when I made this I simply turned under the seam allowances and hemmed them down. I did sew over the corner area where the seam allowance was mitered to reinforcing things but that didn’t last.

So we are going to repair this tear and the small one that has started at the other corner, and then we are going to make sure it cannot tear again.

Note: I have not found any extant examples of this exact technique being used in the 16th century. Patterns of Fashion 4 mentions contemporary patches being but at the corner of one smock after embroidery was carried out. Other shirts have thread reinforcements at the end of seams. I wanted something smaller then a patch, due to the thin nature of the cotton and this is what I came up with.

First I fold the smock down, right sides together so the torn edges are flat against one another. Then I whip stitch over the edges, going just far enough in past the torn edges that the stitches do not pull out.

Do this as many times as needed until you have sewn up the tear, it will look almost like you have made a very small dart.

Whip stitching the tear together.

The stitched tear from the wrong side.

The stitched tear from the right side.

The tear is no more, but that is still a weak area of the neckline.

So cut two lengths of selvage (the woven edge of the cloth that does not fray), you just need them to be a few inches.

Fold the cut edges of the selvage down with your fingers and then fold the selvage in half. With the folded cut edge facing the inside of the smock, pin the middle of the selvage to the corner of the neckline where the tear was.

Now whip stitch along the outside edge of the smock, catching the folded selvage edge and the neckline together with small stitches.
I’m sewing at about 30 stitches an inch which is finer then usual for me.

Two strips of selvage.

Pinning the selvage into place

Sewing in the selvage with a whip stitch.

Go along the edge of the smock till you reach the end of the selvage, turn the end under and stitch it down against the neckline hem.

Keep going along the inner edge until you get to the corner where the tear was, clip the selvage a tiny bit and then sew over the notch. You do not want to clip it to the neckline, that negates reinforcing the edge.

A small clip will ease the tension along the selvage without having to make a dart in it.

A tiny clip at the corner.

The finished inside.

Finish sewing along the inner edge of the smock, tie off and clip your thread and you are done.

June 21, 2011
The use of buckram in Tudor (Henrician) Gowns

This is my follow up post to the question of using buckram in kirtles.

To back track a bit, in March I hit Google books and British History Online to hunt for how buckram was used in early 16th century England.

Since my use of it in kirtles for support was iffy at best, I turned to inventories and expense accounts to see if I could find some concrete information.

What I found was buckram being used as a stiffening agent in gowns rather then kirtles. This makes a great deal of sense. If we assume the buckram used then was similar to the buckram used now, (a firm fabric sometimes but not always stiffened with glue) to have it in a kirtle, is to have it near sweat and body heat which can wilt it like a wet paper towel.

I found it was used to line the bodice of gowns but that is not the only thing, below I’ve listed a few excerpts.

“..2 yds. of buckram to line the upper sleeves,..”

“A brown-blue gown, lined with buckram, and purfelyd with black velvet.”

“A woman’s black round gown, lined with bokeram, and wide sleeves lined with black velvet.”

“Necessaries for my Lady.—For Philippe, the maid, marriage money, 6l. 13s. 4d. A quarter and a nail of tawney velvet for my Lady’s purse, 3s. 9d. A skein of silk for ditto, 2d. An ounce of tawney silk for string, 14d. A quarter of buckram for lining, 2d. 5 yds. buckram for Philippa’s gown, 2s. 11d. A quarter and a half of velvet, 4s. 3d. ½ yd. linen cloth, 2½d.; anglets,” It seems here buckram to line the purse and enough buckram to line all of the gown

“…and making a gown, a kirtle, and a petticoat for Phillippa against she was married, 3s. 6d. A quarter velvet more for the maid’s gown, 3s. 3½ yds. buckram, 2s. 1d. “For lining and agnetts to the playtes,” 10d.” I haven’t figured out what agnetts is yet, but perhaps buckram to pad out the pleats?

“I have delivered to Mr. Skutt 1¾ yds. Lywkes velvet for the upper bodies and placards, and 2½ yds. of the best black satin for lining the sleeves. He thanks you for the two dozen quails. I have further delivered him 15 yds. Lywkes velvet and a roll of buckram for your gown, and 6 yds. Lywkes velvet for your kirtle, &c. I will bring them with me to Dover.”

“For making 2 gowns, 1 cr. 2 yds. of black buckram, to line the two gowns in the bodies. 3 yds. of frieze, to line the pleats of the gowns after their use.”Frieze to pad the pleats this time.

So it is used to line sleeves, the bodice parts of gowns, it might be used to pad out pleats should I ever figure out what agnetts is. But no where is it mentioned being used in kirtles.
I’ve compiled a much longer list with citations and full excepts to give a bit more context to the entries. As I have time I hope to add more to it and look into what other things buckram was used for.

Go to the full list of buckram used in Tudor Gowns

June 16, 2011
A Pair of Bodies: Finished

Another project off my list. I worked on this off and on for several months. A majority of the construction was done over the course of a week. The actual finishing like the eyelets and binding and the busk took far longer then sewing the boning channels.

Two layers of cotton duck with the outer layer of red cotton sateen (standing in for silk, ask my cat about it). Hand sewn with black silk thread. Self made bias tape, and hand sewn eyelets with matching cotton floss.
The pattern is my usual bodice block. It is boned with cable ties, the boning diagram is rough nod to Pfaltzgrafin Dorothea Sabine von Neuberg’s corset.

March 2, 2011
Mockado Gown: Progress Pictures.

The skirt and sleeves are attached, now it just needs the cuffs, trim, and hooks and eyes up the front.

March 1, 2011
Mockado Gown: Seam allowances and Ponderings

It feels pretty strange picking up a project that has sat to one side for so long. It is all bits and pieces, the skirt had been on my dress form for at least a month, waiting for me to hem it. The lining and the outer fabric dropped and the lining somehow got bigger than the outer fabric so I ripped open the back seam of the skirt and laid it out on the floor.

I basted the layers together and evened the lining out, then re-serged everything and sewed the skirt back up. The skirt then went back on the dressform to keep it out of trouble and cat hair.

Then I turned my attention to the bodice, I made a mock up of it and fitted it over my brown/green wool kirtle (really I still haven’t decided what color it is and most likely never will.) From the drawing the gown over laps in the front but I have no idea how it is actually held together. Pins might be one option, hooks and eyes another or even hidden lacing and pins.

These are the mysteries of the universe.

So I cut my bodice out with extra room at the center front, and a bit extra at the shoulder straps.

I realized over the course of fitting this over the kirtle, I need to tweak my bodice block when it comes to the shoulders. I have very sloping and forward shoulders and the fixes I’ve done in the past are not quite working. I’ll post more on that later with pictures to show what I mean.

The bodice cut out, I then cut out the interlining, muslin and lining, which is my least favorite part of sewing due to the number of pieces that need to be cut out, pressed and then everything bundled together so I don’t lose anything. (Dear sleeve lining, please come home soon.)

Basting the interlining in place

I basted the interlining to the muslin which I then basted to the fashion fabric. I could have just machined it but over the past year or so I’ve gotten to where I enjoy hand sewing.

That doesn’t mean I’m not using the machine on this project. But I don’t really have a deadline on this outfit and it isn’t a 100% reproduction. I’m using it as a test and I should try to enjoy what I’m making rather than racing toward the finish line.

On a technical level, as someone who likes to take things apart and put them back together. (I get that from my grandfather.) I like the idea that should this ever be taken to pieces by someone else they will see that some extra time was taken with it and they might learn a new trick. I might be over engineering things. (Which I am very guilty of.) But things should be interesting to look at inside and out.

My sewing philosophy aside, I then spent a day or two catch stitching the seam allowances down with silk thread. It keeps them flat, helps hold down the fraying and makes me use stitches I don’t use every day.

Catch stitching the seam allowances down.

February 25, 2011
16th Century Mockado Gown: Some progress

I’ve been sitting on this project for some time waffling back and forth on fabric use for Henry VIII’s era and if the fabric I have can be even called mockado. I mentally went back and forth until the project had stalled due to my indecision. But In the end I’ve decided I don’t have any other use for the fabric, and I need to test the dress pattern I want to use for a different project. So this is becoming something of a wearable mock-up with some research to keep my perfectionist side happy.

I’ve long admired the sketch of “A Lady Walking” by Hans Holbein the Younger.
The dress was plain but elegant and she sported a wild headdress that must have been a pain to wear on a windy day.

Englishwoman by Hans Holbein the Younger

My thoughts and speculations

From the sketch alone: she wears a red half kirtle/underskirt/petticoat whatever you want to call it, it is most likely wool. Over that she wears a gray kirtle, most likely also wool, and over that a blue-gray wool gown trimmed with velvet.

We can’t see if the gown has a waist seam or not, we can only see that the front overlaps, possibly closing with hooks and eyes or it is pinned shut. The gown in the skirt doesn’t look like it is lined and the hem appears not to be bound. The wool is most likely felted or finished to keep it from raveling, giving it that clean edge.

The skirt is full enough that the gown might have a small train, or be floor length, hence the system of straps to keep the skirt hooked up out of the mud. If this is part of the mysterious white band is still up for debate, but a similar device is hinted at on Margaret Clement(?) in the sketch of Thomas More’s family. In the remade painting the figures are rearranged and this detail is a bit harder to see.

She also has a green, perhaps silk tasselled sash, a rosery or paternosterer at her side, small buttons on the top of her velvet cuffs, and a partlet that buttons at her throat.

The gray kirtle looks like it is the same type/weight wool as her over gown and looks to be unlined. On her feet she has the classic square-toed shoes for the era and what might be silk or fine linen stockings.

November 14, 2010
A Brown Wool Kirtle: Then End of the Story and Photos

I finally finished the Brown Green wool kirtle. I had left off the last posts talking about sleeves and eyelets but once I got into the swing of things I got them done without taking any photos.

Bad me.

I was to the point of hemming the skirts, so I marked the hem and then carefully trimmed it even and overlocked the edge to keep it from fraying.

Then I put the kirtle on… and I hated it.

The bodice point came down far too long and didn’t curve in enough along the waist before hand. I looked for lack of better words, stumpy. I was not happy, I was so not happy I set the whole project aside for a month. I knew how to fix it, but taking apart an almost finished project goes against my grain. What if I messed it up?

After it sat for a month in time out, I got annoyed one night and decided that was it. I was going to fix it and if I messed up well then I’d have a brown/green petticoat. So I unpicked the front of the skirt and trimmed down the bodice point by two inches.
That fixed it, even if it turned my nerves into noodles.

Then it was just binding the hem and it was done.

November 10, 2010