Buttonholes and more buttonholes

This week I pulled Kenny's breeches out of the closet and have been busily stitching up buttonholes, so that he can actually put them on and take them off without a needle and thread to keep them up.

It takes me approximately one episode of Upstairs Downstairs for each buttonhole. I ran out of episodes on the last one at the waist (still have the leg-buttons to do.) My stitches are improving, but it's a slow business.

Sneak peek! We'll do a photoshoot later, after I have figured out how to handle the legs.

Green Silk Waistcoat - Completed!

This past weekend, I pulled out a UFO and completed it! Kenny's green silk waistcoat (which I had started a year ago and whip-stitched him into for the Louisville Jane Austen Festival) has been waiting for the following elements for completion:
- buttonholes (finished those a couple months ago, in the last post!)
- buttons (covered those some time ago, but had to wait for the buttonholes to apply.)
- back gore (we realized when I stitched this onto him for the festival, that I had left zero wiggle room in the girth.)

Last weekend, I really needed to complete something creative to help myself out of a low patch, and this guy was the handiest (and the easiest/most instantly-gratifying) project at hand.

First, I sliced straight up the back, opening a wedge of space for a skinny gore to be inserted. 

Then, I turned under the edges of the vest back, sandwiched the gore (the hem of which I pre-finished) in-between, and then prickstitched the edges together over the gore. I regretted this stitch method as soon as I started working down the second side of the gore, as it got much harder to see my needle on the right side of the fabric for each tiny stitch. 

The exterior appears to be topstitched, the interior appears to be whip-stitched. Construction stitches; the most mundane but most important stitches on a garment. 

Finally, I stitched on my buttons et voila! This baby is finally complete, and well-fitting. (Someday my hand-stitch tension will be perfect and my costumes will be entirely wrinkle-free. Hopefully.) 

    

The pattern I used for this was by Kannik's Korner, Men's Waistcoats, c. 1790-1815. The pattern had some great historical documentation, and a lovely vocabulary of stitches (always helpful to one new to historical handsewing.) The only part I was uncertain about was the way the internal front edge interfacing/interlining was supposed to whip onto the body fabric - I don't think I could have achieved that invisibly in this fabric. So does one skip that on thin silk waistcoats? Or does one just really get better at their invisible stitching? 

Glad this is finished! Next to complete: the linen tailcoat. 

Buttons and Buttonholes

I have FINALLY gotten around to covering some buttons for Kenny's breeches and waistcoat! It's taken me long enough. After stitching a few buttonholes I have concluded that I need a lot more practice on buttonholes. Good thing I have many more to stitch before his outfit is concluded! Hopefully by the time I get to the coat, they'll be... presentable. Perhaps not perfect but hopefully getting there.

These are the items I used:

Listed from left to right:
1. Measuring tape, for measuring out the space between all the buttonholes. I like my handy retractable one from Jo-Ann's.
2. Sharp "betweens" needles! I like this type needles because they are short and therefore easier for making little stitches, quickly. This kind of needle is often used by quilters for that reason. Mine are made by S. Thomson & Sons, size 10 (the smallest, sharpest size), available here.
3. #60 basting thread. I waffled about purchasing this (because can't one just use normal thread to baste, and just stitch lightly?) but I really love it! It seems to be lightly waxed or something, because it is springy and doesn't twist up on itself. It also is fine enough to keep from leaving any marks on my silk taffeta.
4. Hammer, for pounding the buttonhole chisel. Probably could get away with a rubber mallet for this, but I don't have one.
5. Buttonhole cutter and block. Super-sharp, much nicer than scissors for cutting evenly through all layers of fabric.
6. Silk buttonhole twist. I used Superior Thread's #16 buttonhole silk. This is so much nicer than cotton embroidery twist found at hobby stores. It slides through the fabric like butter!
7. Needle-threader (there is no way I can get the buttonhole twist through that tiny, sharp needle's eye without a little help!)
8. Tailor's thimble. I am NOT a thimble-wearing seamstress, which is probably bad, but I determined to try stitching with one for this project. I used an open-ended tailor's thimble (which is held so that you push the needle through with the side of your finger/thimble), and I really liked it. Still feels a little awkward, but I'm getting the hang of it the more I use it. (NOTE: I bought mine from WAWAK, they have a variety here, and I did NOT realize that I would be getting a dozen of them for $2.29! That is what happened to me. Maybe they wear out? Maybe they were mis-packed? Just a head's-up.)
10. Scissors and pliers, for pulling stubborn needles through the fabric and clipping threads.


Stitching the Buttonhole:
I started out by basting (with a ginormous pad-stitch?) around the spaces where the buttonhole would go. The below picture shows that handy-dandy basting thread in action, as well as the tailor's thimble doing what thimbles do.

The index finger starts things off by guiding the needle into the fabric,
and then the middle finger with the thimble comes up behind
and does all the heavy lifting (pushing the needle through).

Next, I punched a slit almost the length of the buttonhole into my fabric. (I broke the little wooden chisel block in the process. Sad. Will use a scrap of 2x4 next time.)

Then I whipped the edges of the new slit with basting thread. Just to keep things tidy and all in place when stitching with the silk twist.

I ran two long stitches (with my buttonhole twist) along each side of the buttonhole. I'll later stitch over these and they will help reinforce the overall buttonhole. Notice that the long stitches extend a little ways past my cut-out. Back in the day (vaguely late 18th century), buttonholes were often decorative, and also often excessively long. Even when a buttonhole was functional, the stitching would often extend way past the actual slit in the fabric, to create the visual impression of a long buttonhole even if the actual hole was pretty small. I am not quite sure when this practice stopped - I think that by the turn of the century, buttonholes were shrinking back to a respectably practical size, but I don't have a lot of research to prove when that happened. (Also note, I just used my silk twist for these base stitches. Probably I should have used something weightier, like buttonhole gimp, but I guess I'll try that next time!)

Starting where I want the non-functional end of my buttonhole to be, I started stitching along one side of my buttonhole, wrapping the thread around my needle for each stitch (as per this Burnley & Trowbridge tutorial on 18th century buttonholes).

Once my stitches reached the slit in the fabric, I started going straight through the slit and coming up on the outside edge of the buttonhole, still wrapping the thread around the needle. My fabric has narrow, buttonhole-width stripes, which made it a perfect guide!

At the end of the buttonhole, I made two long stitches across the width of the buttonhole. These are to support my bar tack. The bar tack is stitched just like the first end of the buttonhole was - little stitches in and out of the fabric, wrapping the thread around the needle as I go.

Aaand, back we go. All the way to the end where I started.

One more bar tack... (I am miserable at bar tacks. Need a lot of practice!)

And the buttonhole is finished!

I clearly need to work on my tension - silk taffeta is not super forgiving when it comes to poor tension/fabric slippage. But, glad to be almost done with this piece. Just have to add the covered buttons and slip an extra wedge of fabric in the back (it is a bit snug around the waist), and it will be complete!

Useful resources:
- Burnley & Trowbridge tutorial (on facebook)
- YouTube video of Mr. Stuart Lille of Ft. Ticonderoga stitching 18th century buttonholes (updated here)
- Overview of 18th century buttonhole-making, by Mara Riley (somehow, my buttonholes look nothing like hers. Hmm.)

And a couple of fun links about thimbles and their uses:
- The Purl Bee looks at lots of different kinds of thimbles
- The English Cut - Savile Row blog offers a couple tips on how to use a tailor's thimble

Question: Lapel Decoration

I have not updated in so long! I am a delinquent blogger, I always tell myself I will get better and then I leave long gaps between posts. I think the pressure to post something interesting gets to me, and I end up posting nothing at all because I feel like I don't have anything "good enough" to post!

However, today my curiosity was piqued (again, because I have noticed this detail before) by a painting I found as I was wasting yet another hour on Pinterest. The painting is of Jacques Marquet de Montbreton de Norvins, by Ingres. The reason it stood out to me was because of a small detail, a red patch on the subject's lapel. I have seen this in two other paintings, and that is all. What does it mean?! 

Jacques Marquet de Montbreton de Norvins, by Ingres
Notice the rather sizable red patch on his left lapel.

I found what must be one of Ingres's sketches for this portrait. Even though this is a black-and-white sketch, you can still see the patch on the Marquet's left lapel. 

Jacques Marquet de Montbreton de Norvins, by Ingres

I had noticed, a little while back, two other paintings of gentlemen sporting similar red patches. The first is of Charles Joseph Laurent Cordier, by Ingres (again). 

Charles-Joseph-Laurent Cordier, by Ingres

The second is of Comte (Antoine-Georges-Francois) de Chabaud-Latour and his family, by Jacques-Luc Barbier-Walbonne. 

Portrait of Antoine-Georges-Francois de Chabaud-Latour and his Family

I found an engraving of Chabaud-Latour, in which he does not have the red patch on his lapel, only a medal (with the rosette pinning it to the lapel). 

Antoine-Georges-Francois de Chabaud-Latour

All of the above men are French, and lived during Napoleon's Wars. However, I could only find any information on two:

• Comte (Antoine-Georges-Francois) de Chabaud-Latour: A member of Napoleon's Army (as far as I could discern from my google.translate of French web pages!), and then a member of the French Senate. 
• Jacques Marquet de Montbreton de Norvins: A politician and writer writer, who wrote a history of Napoleon and various other historical books relevant to the Wars. 

Does anybody know about this bit of sartorial symbolism? I am so curious, and I would like to know what this red patch means before I consider tacking it onto any of the tailcoats I produce. 

Historical Sew Fortnightly: Planning

My goal this year, with HSF, is to expand my (and my husband's) Regency wardrobe (within the years 1795-1815). Now that the first six challenges have been announced by Leimomi, I need to plan out what I will do! If I don't plan, it doesn't happen. At least I know this about myself! So, here goes:

Challenge #1: Make Do and Mend

My first "Regency" dress, I made when I was 16 years old. Almost ten years ago! I thought it was accurate to about 1807, but I'm not not quite sure why I thought that! There are a few issues with it: 

- the bodice has a gathered "fan front" - a detail I have only seen in later ('20s) extant garment. 

- the bodice back is a bit wide, and closes with hooks and eyes - back closures for this time period still mystify me, they seem to be all over the place, but I have never seen an extant example with the kind of closure I put in, so that needs to be fixed. 

- the sleeves are... what? I don't know. They are kind of 1700s. They need to go. 

- the front skirt is A-line, which is a bit later than my desired timeline. The back skirt is a pleated rectangle, which would be fine... except it is 2/3 lined with heavy linen, and there aren't enough pleats in the back. 

- the side seam of the skirt is right under my arm, which, in my opinion, is a bit too forward. 

- the back skirt trails on the ground for 2-3 inches. 16-year-old me thought it was very elegant. (Actually I still love tiny trains! But it needs to be appropriate to the dress.)

So, The Plan: make it into a short gown with long sleeves! 

- take off the sleeves (already done), take off the skirt.

- narrow the across-back and raise the bottom CB edge of the bodice. Stitch together the CB!

- snip up the front of the bodice, and the front of the interior bodice. Add a drawcord to neckline and waist of both components. 

- chop off the lower 2/3 of the skirt. Add a bit of width to the remaining skirt front. Pleat the back skirt into three deep inverted box pleats. 

- eke out two long sleeves from the bottom third of the skirt, and add to the bodice. 

Inspiration: a couple of short gowns seen at Meg Andrews auction (the auction house classifies these as 1810, but they look a bit older to me):

Short gown/bedgown c. early 1800s

Short gown/bedgown c. early 1800s

Hopefully that will work! We will see in a couple of weeks... 

Challenge #2: Innovation:
I was a little stumped about this one. There were lots of innovations that were implemented around this time, but they are things like gas lights and coffee pots. Not helpful. However, I also learned that the jacquard loom was invented in 1801 by Joseph Marie Jacquard, simplifying the jacquard weaving process. That is not to say that types of jacquard fabric were not around earlier (they had been around for a while!), but this machine made weaving them simpler and more efficient.

So... perhaps I will try to find a couple jacquard shawls/scarves and put them together into a big shawl, or a turban. It's a big uninspired and unambitious, but I do need accessories and I don't want to bite off more than I can chew. Some projects have to be little!

Natalie Garbett demonstrates the size
of a Regency Shawl with an extant piece
from her collection.

Shawl produced in Norwich, c. 1817

Challenge #3: Pink:
Pink... is not something that naturally occurs in my wardrobe. I don't hate it. I just don't love it. However, I think I might have some pink wool or silk in my stash from my Grams, so perhaps I can make a simple spencer? I'll have to think more about that one...

Wool/silk spencer, c. 1814-15, France

Challenge #4: Under It All:
Due to the new shape I've gained in the past ten years, I need a new corset! I am thinking short stays, as documented in this EXCELLENT article by Sabina of Kleidung um 1800.

Interesting back to a reproduction corset
by Sabina of Kleidung um 1800

This looks interesting, too (the only one of its kind that I have seen - is it really early 1800s, or late 1800s/early 1900s?):

Bust bodice, c. 1820-27 (?), V&A Museum

But, if that is too ambitious, I could always make myself a chemisette or pockets. I have no chemisettes and you kind of can't have too many of those.


Challenge #5: Bodice:
I would actually like to make Kenny something for this challenge - perhaps a new waistcoat? Does that qualify as a "bodice"? He needs a waistcoat of interestingly-printed cotton, and a bright red wool waistcoat like the one from the MET (below).

Waistcoat, wool, c. early 1800s, possibly American

Challenge #6: Fairytale:
Still have NO idea what to do for this one, but I am super excited about it! I LOVE fairytales!! I will try to gear this one toward something for my Bebe.

Hessian Boots DIY

When I was looking for footwear for Kenny, I had the hardest time coming up with what to do about boots. Top boots weren't working out (although I did find a few vintage womens boots that would have been A-MAZ-INGly perfect, but my darlin's feet were too big for them.) Repro boots weren't going to happen, either - I'm sure Robert Land makes stunning boots, but there was no way I was going to pay that much for footwear for my negligibly enthused husband (actually, he was a great sport about wearing this getup, but not enough to justify spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars on boots he would only be able to wear to an event here or there).

So, my most feasible solution was to buy modern boots and make them work somehow. They had to be modifiedable, because modern boots look... not so 18th century. Or early 19th century.

I perused Etsy and Ebay until I found a pair of used English riding boots, just Kenny's foot size. They were a little tall, but I got them at a good price because they were torn at the top edge (which was going to be lopped off anyway). Originally, the boots looked like this:

Etsy listing for English riding boots

Boots like this are all over they place, they are pretty standard for English horseback riding. I found mine on Etsy, but Ebay also has quite a few up for sale.

I thought to myself, I'll just pop over to a cobbler and ask him to trim down and finish the top edge, easy peasy, and then I'll attach some tassels myself. Well, apparently, cobblers don't often trim down boots like this. You can't exactly re-finish the top edge, because all that cleanly-folded down leather is actually glued to itself to maintain an unwrinkled, reinforced shaft. (That word makes my insides squirm. Unpleasantly. It is worse than "moist." Actually, that whole sentence makes my insides squirm.)

But I was not going to be daunted by the cobbler's dour assessment of my boot quandary. I busted out my sharp Gingher scissors and lopped a shapely inch or so off the top of the boots. The cobbler was right. There was no re-finishing that could be done after that.

Foyle's War in the background. We love.

First, I masked off the top 1/4" of the boot with painter's-tape. Then I rubber-cemented it very liberally and let it dry. It is important to let rubber-cement dry before trying to adhere things to it. Both items to be stuck together need to be painted with rubber-cement and then let dry before sticking together.

I didn't mask the interior, but I did paint the top 1/4" inside
AND out. I just tried to keep the inside as tidy as possible.

 I took the opportunity, while my boot was drying, to stitch a mitered corner into my petersham ribbon binding.

You can't see too well in this photo, but I folded each
boots-length (top circumference of boot + 2") in half
and stitched a right angle in from the fold.

Then I started carefully applying my petersham binding to the top edge boot, starting with the inverted point at the front. The curved bits are a little finicky, but it was very helpful to use petersham instead of any other ribbon for that very reason - it has a little more flexibility.

It was helpful to me to apply the ribbon on the outside first,
and then smooth the ribbon on the inside of the boot. That
way any little creases and folds are hidden inside the boot.

My boots had a strip of leather running down the back of the calf, which is handy for me because I need to make the shaft a little narrower to fit Kenny's leg. In order to retain the integrity of that little strip (as I'll need it later to cover up the alterations), I picked out the stitches and folded it to the side while I finished wrapping the ribbon around the top of the boot.

I left about two inches to fold over, but that wasn't actually
quite enough - I should have allowed more. This little end
kept popping up as Kenny wore the boots, because the
rubber-cement wasn't quite strong enough to hold it. 

I stitched on my drapery tassels (more detail shown in the infographic below), and binder-clipped down the ribbon/tassel at the front and leather strip at the back of the boot, and left to bond.

Sorry, no pictures of stitching the tassel on. And the
tassel looks weird because it still has the little plastic
sleeve on it, keeping it from tangling.

Kenny wore his boots all day and they worked quite well, except for the little leather strip in the back popping up. I love them! Not bad for $100.

Voila! Tasselly boots.

When I was looking for boots for Kenny, I had a hard time finding very many DIYs or cheats around the internet, so I put together a Hessian Boot DIY in Illustrator (I love Illustrator. It is awesomesauce. I cannot imagine working without it.) I hope it is helpful to somebody!

Flickr: Hessian Boot DIY

The Tailcoat of Uncertain Execution

So, I looked at a LOT of pictures before beginning this tailcoat for my fine fellow. I have never really made any kind of coat for a man (beyond a jerkin for Ren Faire), and was terrified to try it. To prepare myself, I researched paintings, contemporary cutting diagrams, extant museum pieces, and fashion plates. In fact, I fastidiously avoided beginning the pattern because there was just so much research to be done. The excuses I give myself.

And then, in the end... I had to make up the coat in less than a week. Really, a few nights. And I just hoped enough research had sunk in so that whatever pattern I spit out would be moderately authentic, because I had no time to carefully deliberate over my patternmaking. 

My primary reference for drafting the pattern was Men's Garment's 1830-1900: A Guide to Pattern Cutting and Tailoring. The first tailcoat pattern draft in the book is for a coat circa 1830, but it looked like something that I could tweak slightly into a moderately accurate pattern for my desired time period (1800-1810). Another GREAT reference was an article posted on the Regency Society of America forum (post is here, actual article is via ingentaconnect), The Clothing of a Georgian Banker, Thomas Coutts: A Story of Museum Dispersal, authored by David Wilcox. There are a couple oddities about Thomas Coutts clothing, but I find those to be most interesting (sometimes, when researching reproduction clothing, I think it is easy to limit oneself to only attributes commonly found in extant clothing/research. However, clothing then, as now, was just functional - it was edited and altered to serve its purpose best.) The clothing documented in the article is mostly for an older Mr. Coutts, so it must be taken into account that he may not have been on the forefront of fashion, even if his wardrobe is dated close to 1810. 

Observe below, the differences between the 1830 (R.I. Davis) pattern, and the 1810 (Thomas Coutts) pattern.

Pattern detail from The Clothing of a Georgian Banker, Thomas Coutts.

Pattern being drafted (ignore the armhole mishap - I used 1/8 scale as a reference at one point, instead of 1/4 scale. It was fixed after a little confusion.) from R. I. Davis's Men's Garments 1830-1900.

Differences between earlier vs. later patterns: (I also compared these to a couple Norah Waugh coat patterns, one of which is too early and one of which is too late for my period - why is there nothing available for 1805-1815? I had to imagine the progression between patterns):
- fit: early patterns have a lot more straight lines, late patterns are pretty curvy. By 1830 they are starting to hug the body pretty snugly. 
- waist seam: early patterns have none (and very little shaping, although I think I could get away with a fish dart at the pocket for 1810), whereas late patterns have evolved from a slight fish dart at the pocket to a full-blown waist seam, nipping in at the waist to create a bit of a flared skirt. Maggie Waterman wrote a great article about when the waist seam on Regency coats appeared (as well as a stout defense of well-researched costuming!) on her blog Serendipitous Stitchery, (article here).
- armscye: I noticed that on some patterns (namely the Coutts and Norah Waugh patterns) the armscye is very large and round. But on the R. I. Davis pattern, it's fairly narrow and close. Observing extant garments, the armholes appear to always be pretty closely-cut to the front-shoulder and underarm, and cut 'round closer to centre-back than modern coats. Maybe the large-looking armscye is just a proportion thing that I am not understanding. Maybe the R.I. Davis pattern would look correct if I raised the underarm seam, rounding out the shape of the armscye. But I didn't worry too much about that. As long as it looked right post-fitting, I determined to not fuss. 
- length: coats around 1810 tended to be shorter (above back of knee), and around 1830 they tend to be longer (solidly mid-knee).

 I busted out (fiercely quickly) the first pattern, using Kenny's measurements. Once the pattern looked about right, I laid it flat on muslin and traced around it with red marking wax. Pins didn't enter into it. I had Kenny cut out the pieces with really wide, haphazard seam allowances, and then I stitched the pieces together by just matching the marked lines and stitching down them. My teachers would possibly have cringed. But, I was able to make a mock-up in an evening, and make all my pattern adjustments!! It worked out.  

Kenny looks like such a hobbit in this picture. His breeches are not hemmed and don't have buttons holding them in at the knee, so they are kind of flapping out and making him look squatty (need to remember this picture for future hobbit costumes!) We decided that the coat needed to a) be cutaway higher, and b) re-angled at the opening - the angle of that opening is old man angle, not a chic young gentleman angle.

My sweetie-pie! He let me drag him away from his desk multiple times to re-try things on. He still smiled at me for pictures. I surely do love him.

A couple issues here: drag lines from the side-back neck (probably needed to slash+spread the front neckline close to the shoulder seam - maybe - armholes confuse me), tight across-front chest (I did slash+spread a little bit into the lower front armhole, which, now that I think about it, addressed my patternmaking qualm about the armscye being too narrow!).  The sleeve looks weird. But I was really trying to set it as far into the body as possible, like the extant examples I've seen! I don't think it looked to weird on the end result (but I still haven't examined those pictures, so we'll see...)

These sleeves are SO long (which is pretty authentic). Now that I am looking at these pictures, I could have possible re-angled the sleeve when I set it in to help with the awkward back-bulge at the armscye. Got a couple unattractive drag lines going on there. 

No collar! Totally should have put the collar on for the fitting. I hang my head in shame. But it would have taken me another twenty minutes to draft correctly, and I did not have that kind of time. This bit me in the bum later. 

Skirts are too long. Unfortunately, I forgot to trim them when I stitched up the coat (a lot of stitching happened in the car on the way to Louisville, so that was easily overlooked.) Will have to go back and fix that!

Here you can see that I started to pull the armscye back toward the CB/shoulder. I brought it in by roughly 2". That wrinkle under his arm? Could not figure out how to get rid of it without restricting movement. I have seen this bulgy wrinkle in quite a few plates and paintings, though. I assume it is inevitable with the high, tight armscye (although... I probably should have rotated the sleeve a little bit, might have helped). Observe how I pinched in the fish dart; I totally forgot to mark and execute that in my hasty construction of the actual coat. Yet another thing to go back and fix. 

Now I really want to see pictures of the actual coat on Kenny again. Have to get those photos from my mom, and then I'll dissect them here.