A round-up of some interesting costume/textile articles and theses I’ve come across the past week.
Of Crymsen Tissue: The Construction of a Queen. Identity, Legitimacy and the Wardrobe of Mary Tudor
English Embroidery of the Late Tudor and Stuart Eras
‘The inordinate excess in apparel’: Sumptuary Legislation in Tudor England
Texts and Textiles: Self-Presentation among the Elite in Renaissance England
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.
I’ve been busy with not sewing this past month and have directed my energy to a great deal of online research. First and foremost the use of buckram as a gown stiffening has always puzzled me. Was it wet molded to the figure? (Rather unlikely.) How did it hold up if someone got caught in the rain? Is what we think of as buckram the same thing that was used in gowns? My own experiments with what I could get locally it were less than successful, see my Green working class gown which used two thin layers of buckram fused together and the Unicorn painting inspired Gown which used just one layer.
I’m slim, but the buckram still bent and bunched mainly under the breast and at the curve of the waist.
When I started on my version of the “Pisa Gown”. (Currently on hold.) I tried to counter act this by padding out the bodice using layers of cotton quilt batting. I set a layer of batting on the inside of the bodice and a second smaller layer just under the bust to help fill in the space. Laurie Tavan did something similar with her Florentine Gown but wore hers over a pair of bodies.
Yet even with the layers of padding and extra stitching the buckram started to buckle. So I set the project aside. I wasn’t sure if I was going at it wrong, or what I had on hand wasn’t stiff enough/the right material. But I sat on the idea for several months and got distracted turned my attention to Tudor gowns from the reign of Henry VIII.
I read “And her black satin gown must be new-bodied’: The Twenty-First-Century Body in Pursuit of the Holbein Look” -Jane Malcolm-Davies, Caroline Johnson and Ninya Mikhaila. Their findings of trying to reproduce the Holbein look on various body types made sense, and became a deciding factor when I made my green/brown kirtle.
I decided to use no boning in it the kirtle at all for a few reasons, one I was still hand sewing my pair of bodies and I really did not want to revisit a similar boning diagram, and two I wanted to see how far fit could take me.
Using just a layer of canvas rather than buckram allowed for the fabric to form around me, it didn’t make sharp heavy creases under the bust or at the waist. The support you get is not from shifting and holding parts of the body up or in like a fully boned pair of bodies/corset would do. The support comes from being well laced and well fitted, and gives it a soft line. Yes, there are some wrinkles that a few bits of boning would take care of, but as a gown would generally cover the kirtle I am fine with them being there.
The Weiss Gallery is having a 25 year anniversary and that means presents!
Presents in the form of this flashbook:
It has a great overview of paintings from the 16th century through the 17th century, (They start on page 22!) with clear detailed shots in full color and the best part is you can download the flash presentation as a pdf.
(Link found on The Elizabeth Costume forum)
Finding the right fabrics for 16th century clothing has always been an elaborate game of hide and seek. You look for fabrics that are close to what was worn 500 years ago. The fabrics then hide from you or are so far out of your budget range you expire from sticker shock.
200 dollar a yard silk damask I am looking at you!
So I’ve decided to take a look into 16th century fabrics. What they are made from, a little bit about the history of them, and my best guess as what might be a modern substitute.
For the past month I’ve been fascinated with Mockado fabric, the lesser known cousin of 16th century velvets.
The dictionary defines mockado as:mock·a·do [muh-kah-doh] –noun, plural -does:
a fabric simulating velvet, popular in the 16th and 17th centuries.
Origin: 1535–45; earlier mockeado < It moccaiard
But was was it made out of?
“Textile manufacture in Early Modern England“ tells me it was imported from Flanders early in the 16th century, but by the 1570’s it was being made in England, with several rules governing the quality of it. It could be made from wool, linen, hemp, and silk or a blend of all three. It could be made thick for bed hangings or carpeting. Or lighter for clothing weight. It could be tuffed and voided or changeable, plain or double.
Unfortunately I have not come across any paintings called “Unknown Person in Mockado” or pieces of 16th century clothing made from it.
My best guess is that clothing weight mockado may have been like our modern velveteens or waleless corduroy when compared to velvets. Hard wearing, a lower pile to the nap but still needing to pay attention to the nap direction when cutting it out.
And what was it used for? As it turns out lots of things.
I’ve started putting together a list of Tudor and Elizabethan Wills and Inventories that are available in full preview through Google Books. I’ve also included a few useful books that only have a limited preview. I hope these lists will help make it a little easier for people who are looking for clothing or household information on the web.
There are some overlaps between the two sections, and I am still adding notes to what each book is.
I’ve added a small gallery of photos depicting the different types of pleating and gathering I’ve used in various costumes. I hope this will work as a quick reference guide for types of fabric, types of pleating, and the various looks each type gives.
This will be expanded on as I make and photograph more costumes.
A few years ago I had a chance to go to the Ringling Museum in Sarasota, Florida. Amidst the Baroque art, circus memories, and lush grounds there was a small collection of miniatures that caught my eye. At first glance I thought “Pift, I’ve seen Hillard’s work no one can compare.” Then I looked closer and realized they were not paintings but thin layers of carved colored wax. Some anonymous goldsmiths much have labored over these tiny palm sized marvels, rendering each curl of hair and tiny pearl before housing the final work in an elaborate gilt copper case.
I just came across the photos again and knew I had to share.