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. 

Construction Confusion

Now that the next Jane Austen Festival has been announced, I am scheming about NEW costumes! They may not be realized, because I have to finish last year's pieces first, but one can always scheme.

I would love to put together for myself a slightly more "working woman" impression, with a simple cotton dress and a cotton/linen spencer. It would be a fun exercise in print-mixing. With that in mind, I have been researching cotton print spencers, and I came across one that I really love, but the construction baffles me. I am trying to puzzle out how, exactly, it opens to be put on.

From the front view, I can decipher:
- The top of the bodice and the "skirt" (below the bust line) appear to be separate pieces of fabric. I can't tell, however, if they are gathered separately before being assembled, or if all the gathers at the front are caused by a little hidden drawstring. When I compare the shirring ratio on the upper bodice to the shirring ratio on the "skirt," they appear to have been gathered separately before being stitched together.
- The sleeves are cut in one piece on the fold/straight grain, but they are shaped to narrow at the wrist before flaring out over the knuckles.
- There are two little ties hanging down at the sides of the garment. From the front, I have no idea what purpose these serve, but you can see them a little better on the back.
- There is green trim around the neckline and sleeve hems.
- The bodice appears to be lined at the back, and it looks flat (as though the center-back gathers we see on the back view are only in the fashion fabric, mounted on a fitted lining.)

Jak, Blaricum via the Nederlands Openluchtmuseum

The back of the spencer provides a little more construction information:
- The back bodice is cut extremely narrow, and is tightly gathered. I wouldn't call the gathers "full," though, as there is no body to them (they're very flat - which would support my conjecture that this piece is mounted on a fitted lining).
- There are small (1.25"?) rectangles of fabric covering the shoulder seams, which are placed very far back.
- There is a seam (which appears to have a narrow self-fabric piping) between the upper bodice and lower bodice/skirt. This piece is flat, with no gathers in the upper or lower edges.
- There is another seam bisecting the lower half of the bodice. This piece is definitely gathered at center back, and has a little bit of green trim at the bottom edge, which cuts off before reaching the sides of the bodice.
- There are three brass (pewter? some kind of metal) buttons mounted on the lower seam. These buttons appear to be non-functional, entirely decorative.
- The green trim extends all the away around the back neckline (the entire neckline is trimmed).
- The bodice appears to be unlined on the front (the front skirt, at least).
- There appears to be an opening at the side seams, from which the striped (linen?) tapes hang! This part puzzles me the most. I have never seen a side opening like this that doesn't have some kind of apron-front piece on the front, allowing for more flexibility. Do the openings extend from hem to sleeve? Is there any kind of slit in the sleeve for flexibility? Why are the openings there instead of CF or CB? Was this common and I just never realized it? How do the ties get tucked away when the jacket is worn? Where is the front set of ties disappearing under the bodice in this picture? So many questions.

Jak, Blaricum via the Nederlands Openluchtmuseum

Also, what is that green trim made of? It almost looks like cotton fabric with trapunto stuffed rows. Or maybe they are just corded! But the trim doesn't appear to be stiff (if you look at the gathered back skirt, it folds pretty easily).

This jacket is what I am puzzling over today. I think I might have to reproduce it; it is too interesting to not investigate with a reproduction.

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

Dorset Buttons

I have finally finished the buttons for Kenny's shirt - now I just have to sew them on and whip up some buttonholes and this price will be pretty much finished. I'm a terrible procrastinator, so even though this project is taking a long time, I feel such triumph every time I can accomplish even a little bit!