Showing posts with label Historical Sew Fortnightly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Historical Sew Fortnightly. Show all posts

Sunday, 3 September 2017

Wiener Werkstätte ensemble - pictures

My historical sewing has had to take a back seat for a while, as I just have too many other things to do at present. But a couple of weeks ago I had the rare treat of a free day, plus I was due a haircut, which meant that my totally non-historically-accurate fringe (bangs) was long enough to be tucked out of the way. So, I decided to do something that I’ve been meaning to do for ages, and photograph my complete Wiener Werkstätte ensemble; dress, hat and bag.

On the basis that ‘if a job’s worth doing . . . ‘, I also wore all the period underwear I’ve made; my Edwardian chemise and (adapted) drawers, petticoat slip, and 1911 corset (all of which make this the most hyperlinked blogpost ever). The last item wasn’t really necessary as the Wiener Werkstätte, like the Aesthetic and Rational Dress movements in the UK, advocated not wearing corsets. But I was determined to go the whole hog, and I suspect that at least some of the Werkstätte’s clientele would have been reluctant to abandon corset-wearing. To finish the whole look off, I wore my American Duchess Astorias, and Edwardian stockings.

The results were . . . OK, but I’m a long way off happy with them (I did have fun messing around with filters on the photos, though!). I see it more as a learning exercise, and it shows how much I’ve got to learn about historical costuming.

The original dress (image © MAK) and my version

None of what follows will be news to anyone who does a lot of period dressmaking, and it all pretty much echoes what costumers such as Jennifer Rosbrugh regularly say on their blogs, but in no particular order here is what I discovered from the exercise.

First up, I wish that I’d used better quality fabrics for the dress. Even though I have no reason to wear it, if you’re going to put that much time making something, it’s not worth skimping on materials. I was far happier with the feel of the underclothes, which were made in period-appropriate fabrics.

It's a bit too shiny!

Which brings me on to the discovery, made very early on, that the chemise pattern (Truly Victorian Edwardian Underwear pattern TVE02) was not designed for dresses with wide necklines. Even with the alterations I made to lower the neckline, it was well and truly visible. For the sake of the photos I replaced it with a modern vest top (see the ever-excellent Frock Flicks for why I had to replace it with something).

Unboned sections of a corset will go where they want to go, and there’s nothing you can do about it. In this case I had clearly made it too long, so the top inch or so folded over, and resisted all of my attempts to make it lie flat. Unpicking and reshaping the top edge is fiddly, but do-able. 

Despite all the arguments I found when I researched the subject, I remain unconvinced by the combination (no pun intended) of long straight skirts and closed-leg drawers. They must have been a nightmare to do up after a bathroom visit.

The hat brim is too floppy. Much as I like the scalloped edge it definitely needs stiffening, either wire or brim reed. I shall have to take it to one of the Hat Chat sessions at the Millinery Studio for remedial work; although getting it on the train may be interesting!

The brim edge is lovely, but will have to be covered up

By this stage, the brim was buckling a bit

Far and away the most successful element of the whole outfit was the petticoat slip, made from a pattern in Frances Grimble’s The Edwardian Modiste. This was drafted to my measurements using a scaling system, and fits beautifully - so much so that I even photographed it! I can see that if I want to make any more clothes from this period, the Edwardian Modiste patterns are the way to go.

Fringe looking dreadful, slip looking good

Although there is so much of this outfit that could have been done better, I'm working on the basis that all of the items I made were for challenges in the Historical Sew Monthly, and one of the mainstays of the HSM is the "pursuit of greater historical understanding". Simply knowing that it could have been done better, and having some idea of how, is a start.

I do look a bit too chirpy in the pictures as well. Most of the models in the Wiener Werkstätte archive photographs look rather gloomy - sometimes with good reason.

If I was wearing that flowery-swimming-cap hat, I'd look glum too! (image © MAK)

Clearly I need a small dog

For me the most interesting thing about the whole exercise was how totally alien the whole outfit felt to wear. I regularly 'dress like my grandma' using patterns from the late 1930s, 1940s and 1950s, but even when I go for the whole 'look' with period hair, stockings, hat etc, it still feels like only a very small variation from normal dress to me. This felt like 'dressing up'; definitely something from another world. But I’m aware that I was born in the mid-1960s, so would 1930s clothes feel like another world to a younger person? Or was there some fundamental change in clothing, say after the First World War?

That aside, I’ve left the most important thing I learned from this to the end. If you are wearing a long-line corset and shoes which fasten with buttons, there is a definite order in which these items need to be put on. Very definite.

Trying to use a button hook on shoes when you can't bend is doomed to failure!

Sunday, 4 January 2015

All That Glitters / Fairytale

Way back when the 2014 Historical Sew Fortnightly challenges were announced, I immediately decided what I wanted to do for Fairytale. Unfortunately by the time that challenge came round, things were not very fairytale-ish in my life, so it didn’t get done. It had been one which I was really looking forward to, so as my intended entry involves glitter, I decided to sneak it into the All That Glitters challenge.

Like my Politics of Fashion dress, this was inspired by a long-ago exhibition in the Edinburgh Festival. This one was about Phoebe Anna Traquair.

Phoebe Anna Traquair (1852 - 1936) was born in Ireland and moved to Scotland when she married. She had studied art in Dublin, and started working in Scotland in the 1880s. Her work ranged from mural painting and large-scale embroideries to illuminated manuscripts.

Catholic Apostolic Church murals, Edinburgh. Photograph by Stephencdickson (Own work), via Wikimedia Commons

Around the turn of the century she took up enamelling.

The Love Cup, 1907, © Victorian and Albert Museum, London

She created small, vividly-coloured plaques in metal frames, which were made up into jewellery or included in other pieces such as this silver and paua shell bowl.

Paua shell bowl, 1905-1906, National Museums Scotland

As well as pendants, examples of her work which I've found online include some necklaces with multiple enamel plaques, such as this lovely piece with its mermaid, ships and sea creatures.

Necklace, 1905, © Victorian and Albert Museum, London

Necklaces with multiple pieces and multiple chains seem to have been quite common around the turn of the century; you can see some more examples here.

Taking Phoebe Anna Traquair's enamelled jewellery as inspiration, I decided to make a necklace based on The Twelve Dancing Princesses; specifically on the items which the soldier brings back from the enchanted underground realm. (If you're a bit hazy about the details, click here for the story.) The idea was to have the branches with the leaves of silver, gold, and diamonds framing the golden goblet, which would be set in a sea of blue for the lake in which the magical castle sits.

Design sketch for the necklace

I used Fimo modelling clay to make main part of the necklace. Unlike silver clay, it is hardened by baking in the oven, so no naked flames are involved! The blue base was made from a sparkly clay; the nearest I could get to an enamelled effect. The rest was made from white clay, which was then painted with gold or silver metallic powder before hardening. Once baked, the painted pieces are varnished to stop the powder from rubbing off.

The leaves at the points had oval jump rings impressed into them and then removed before baking. The rings were then glued into place once the leaves were complete. You can see one by the top right of the blue section in the photograph below.

The 'lake' base, goblet, and leaves

I made far more leaves than I actually needed, so that I could choose the best ones. The 'diamond' leaves were painted silver, and then covered with tiny, glue-on navette stones.

The branches were tricky to make because they had to be moulded to the shape of the base, then very gently prised away without distorting them, so that they could be painted silver.

Shaping the branches

The necklace was assembled by gluing all of the parts together. I would have liked to model and harden it as a single piece, but couldn't work out how to do this without getting gold and silver powder in all the wrong places! I wasn't convinced that the leaves at the points would remain attached with just glue, so added a thin backing to hold it all together.

The main section, with silver, gold and diamond leaves and the goblet

Taking inspiration from the bowl above, I used paua shell beads for the droplet at the bottom and between the various sections of chain.

The completed necklace

This was the point at which everything got a bit too glittery! Try as I might, I just haven't been able to get a decent photograph of the finished necklace. I've tried every combination of natural light/flash/close-up/zoom etc. I could think of, but anything other than the murkiest of light seemed to bounce off the shiny parts and wipe out the details. Any suggestions of how to take a better photograph gratefully received!

The small print:
The Challenge: All That Glitters, and a very late entry for Fairytale
Fairytale: The Twelve Dancing Princesses
Pattern: My own
Year: Early twentieth century
Notions: Fimo modelling clays, gold and silver powders and varnish. Paua shell and pearl beads. Metal chain, jump rings, wire and necklace clasp. Glue-on stones.
How historically accurate is it? The shape and idea, yes. The materials, definitely not. 60%?
Hours to complete: Too many to even think about, but worth it
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: Fimo products £15.52 (with lots left over), paua shell beads £5.59, chain £1.99, everything else from stash, so £23.10.

Sunday, 28 December 2014

All That Glitters / Re-do, part 3

The current Historical Sew Fortnightly challenge is All That Glitters. My project for this was intended as a second entry for the Re-do challenge, but I didn’t get it completed in time. Fortunately it’s definitely glittery, so fits in here as well.

Way back in May, for the UFOs and PHDs challenge, I posted about a pair of shoes which I had trimmed to give them a 1920s look. (Given that they were originally intended for the Tops and Toes challenge in April, but fell by the wayside due to other things, these shoes must hold some sort of record for being the project associated with the most HSF challenges ever!)

Even though the design was based on a genuine 1920s trim, I wasn’t happy with the end result. So I applied my usual approach of putting them away for a while, and reviewing them with fresh eyes. And I still wasn’t happy. The decoration was far too solid and heavy.

The first attempt

One of the pairs of shoes which I’d come across in my research (thanks again to American Duchess's amazing collection of Pinterest boards) was just decorated with beads, and a few clear stones.

Beaded gold evening shoes, circa 1923


Then I came across some shoes in Jazz Age Fashion: Dressed to Kill with a similar decoration, and decided that this was the way to go.

Silk shoe with cut steel and rhinestones

Because it would be too awkward to sew the stones and beads directly onto the shoe I used the method that I’d used previously; working on a piece of silk gauze with a piece of ivory net over it, stretched in an embroidery hoop. I marked out the guidelines of the design in blue thread.

Design lines marked out, and starting to attach the stones and beads

The stones were sewn on first, with a long tail of thread left at each hole. Then the beads were strung onto one of the tails, and the other tail used to couch the string of beads into place.

The completed beading

When the stitching was complete, I removed the blue thread and cut away the excess gauze. Initially I only did this around the outside of the design. However because there was so much blank space in the inside, when the design was laid over the shoe the gauze showed up as a different colour, so I trimmed away the section in the middle as well. Finally the net was cut to slightly larger than the design, the raw edges were tucked under, and the net sewn onto the shoe using a curved needle.

The net isn't visible inside the design

This time I also beaded the straps and the edge of the shoes, although neither section was wide enough to bead around the stones. Instead I strung the stones and beads together, and then couched the string into place. Although the shape of the shoe is too round-toed for a fully 1920s look, I’m much happier with the new version.

Re-done, glittering, shoes


The small print:
The Challenge: All That Glitters and Re-Do
Fabric: Silk organza and nylon net
Pattern: My own
Year: 1920s
Notions: sew-on plastic stones and gold rocaille beads
How historically accurate is it? Much more than what was there before! 80%
Hours to complete: About 6
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: Four packets of different size stones at £1.16 each, organza and net left over from Tops and Toes challenge, beads from stash, so £4.64

Monday, 22 December 2014

Modern History

The current Historical Sew Fortnightly challenge is Modern History, defined as
Make something historical or historically inspired that is wearable in an everyday context.

It’s safe to say that my entry for this one also takes in a previous challenge which I didn’t enter, Alternative Universe, as it is rooted firmly in whimsy. And to make it a hat-trick of Historical Sew Fortnightly references, the inspiration came from my research for the Black and White challenge.

For that challenge I made a 1940s dress, and in the process researched the CC41 regulations, which controlled manufacturing of civilian goods in Britain during World War II. CC41 or “Utility” items were identified by this logo.

The CC41 logo, designed by Reginald Shipp

The logo itself was adapted to be used on buttons on this suit.

1942 Digby Morton suit (detail) © Victorian and Albert Museum, London

From this image I got the slightly mad (OK, entirely mad) idea of making a pair of earrings using the same adaptation.

The earrings were made from ‘silver clay’; a modelling compound which consists of powdered silver, water, and a binding agent. The clay can be used like any other modelling material, and is then fired to burn off the other ingredients and create a piece of pure silver. I bought a silver clay ‘starter kit’ ages ago, but never got round to doing anything with it. Fortunately although the clay dries out over time, it can be revived with the addition of a little more water.

First of all, I needed a template for my earrings. Although the logo and the button both look as though they are based on three-quarters of a circle, the solid part of the logo is actually slightly more than three-quarters, and the solid part of the button is slightly less - which gives more space to fit in the “41”.

My design sketches based on the original images

I drew out the logo, and then resized it to the size I needed, bearing in mind that the silver clay shrinks by up to 10% when it is fired. Then I cut a stencil for the shaded part of the logo.

The clay was rolled out to 1mm thick and two circles cut out. I used the stencil to mark the section to be cut away, then very carefully cut out slivers of the clay, and tried to smooth out the bottom of the cut-away section. Then I left the pieces to dry. This is an important part of the process; if the clay is fired while it is still damp, the piece will shatter.

The dried pieces -  the one on the left got slightly distorted

The clay itself doesn’t look silver; it is a very pale grey, and goes slightly lighter as it dries. The dried pieces can be sanded to remove any rough edges, and to smooth the surface a bit before firing.

Firing can be done in a kiln, with a blowtorch, or on a gas hob (which was the method I used). A metal mesh sheet is placed on the gas ring and heated to identify the hottest spots, then the item to be fired is placed in the hot spot, and fired for abut five minutes. It’s not a particularly exciting picture, but there was so much heat being given off that I didn’t want to lean right over the ring!

Firing the earrings

The end result didn’t look much different from the dried pieces, but when I dropped them into cold water to quench them there was a satisfyingly metallic clink as they knocked together. When I laid one of them on my original design, it was apparent how much they had shrunk.

Fired, whiter and smaller

The next step was to brush the pieces with a stainless steel brush. This is the stage where the white coating comes off and finally you get something which begins to look like silver. It was also the stage where I discovered a problem with my design, as it was really tricky to clean the cut-away parts. Polishing with flexible sponge polishing pads of different grades brought a real shine to the silver.

Blurred shot (sorry) of one brushed and one polished earring

The final stage of the process was the smelliest, but necessary to get the contrast in the logo. A substance called liver of sulphur is used to oxidise the silver. Mixed with water, it smells like rotten eggs. Each earring was held in the liquid with tweezers until it went black, then it was rinsed in cold water to stop the oxidisation, and polished. This brought the main part of the earring back to silver, and left the cut-away section dark. Finally, I glued on some earring posts.

The finished earrings, and the stencil

Because I'd forgotten to take any photos with a measuring tape

The small print:
The Challenge: Modern History
Fabric: Silver metal clay
Pattern: Digby Morton button based on the CC41 logo
Year: 1942
Notions: Earring posts, glue
How historically accurate is it? Let’s face it, not remotely. There would be absolutely no reason for anyone to waste precious resources making a pair of silver earrings in wartime. The only accurate thing is the logo, so say 5%. They were immense fun to do, though!
Hours to complete: Including drafting the pattern about three, plus drying time
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: I’ve had the kit for so long that I can’t remember the price. The earring posts were 60 pence.

Monday, 1 December 2014

Re-do, part 2 - The Politics of Fashion

Woo-hoo, my entry for the Historical Sew Fortnightly Politics of Fashion challenge (due Sunday 15 June, so only a mere 24 weeks late) is finally finished!

Done at last!

When last seen, my Wiener Werkstätte inspired dress was complete apart from adding the rose decoration. So, once the roses were finally (and flatly) made a couple of weeks ago, it should have been quick and easy to finish the dress.

File under "Good in theory". The roses and leaves on the dress sleeves and the corners of the organza overskirt were easy to attach, but the posy at the bust just didn't want to play at all.

Part of the problem was not so much attaching the roses, as working out where to attach them. Trying to do this with the dress laid flat on the table didn't really give a clear idea of how the finished dress would look. Trying to do this with the dress on Nancy usually meant that the pinned-on roses had fallen off by the time I'd got the dress back on the table to sew it.

Then there was also the question of how the fasten the velvet band round the bust. The band is sewn on under the flowers on the left, and the original idea was that it would be left loose to wrap round the back, and close with a hook and bar concealed under some of the flowers on the right. However it tended to slip on the organza, which left the join of the bodice to the skirt visible at the back. In the end I sewed the top edge of the band to the bodice/skirt seam all the way round to the placket on the right.

The velvet band sewn in place round the back

The part of the band which was originally going to be attached to the dress does not have velvet over it, it is just petersham ribbon. I sewed this in place with a row of stitches to mark the centre, then added one large rose and a leaf. Then I sewed another large rose and a leaf to the other end of the band. The third large rose was attached to the dress, above the band, A medium rose was added below this one. When I tried fastening the band, some of the petersham was visible, so I covered it with a scrap of green satin.

The trimming in progress, with the band unfastened

Next three smaller roses were attached to the dress on the left of the posy, while on the right only two were attached, with the third one was added to the loose end of the band. Finally leaves were added round the edges, with two filling the gap in the centre.

The dress fastened, with not a hook or bar in sight

Actually getting the hooks and bars fastened when the dress is on is quite tricky under all those flowers, but it works, and I think it is quite an accurate reflection of the fiendishly complicated fastenings of the period.

So here is the finished dress shown beside its inspiration. For some reason the bodice looks quite a bit longer on my version. Not sure how this happened, as I can confirm that the band on mine is directly below my bust (making it even harder when trying to find the hooks and bars to close the dress!). Still, I'm really pleased with the end result.

The original, and my interpretation

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Re-do, part 1 (probably of several) - roses

The current Historical Sew Fortnightly challenge is "Re-do", defined as:
"Pick any previous challenge and re-do it (or do it for the first time). It could be one that you didn’t finish, one that you wish you’d had more time for, or any time for, or one where you loved the theme so much you want to do it again."

Well, it's been a while since I've done much Historical Sew Fortnightly sewing, but this challenge throws up so many opportunities that the main problem is, where to start?

Under "one that you didn't finish" comes my Politics of Fashion Wiener Werkstätte dress and, specifically, the roses.

The first one turned out really well; exactly what I wanted.

It all started so well . . .

Unfortunately things went downhill from there! I just couldn't get my subsequent attempts to produce the flat flowers that I needed for the dress. Eventually I gave up in disgust.

The re-do challenge has inspired me to have another go. I unpicked the later roses and tried again. It took a couple of attempts, but eventually I produced the other five roses I needed for the sleeves and the dress corners.

The smaller roses on the bodice are made from narrower tubes of a different satin, and also turned out nice and flat.

The bodice decoration - apologies for the grainy image

However despite my best efforts and my new-found skills in rose flatness, the large bodice roses turned out very flouffy indeed.

Flat rose and flouffy rose

So I decided to cheat. I cut out small circles from a scrap of pelmet vilene left over from making last year's straw bag, stitched a double thickness thread into the centre back of the rose, pulled the ends of the thread through the vilene disk, and tied them in a knot.

Rose flattening - after and before

So now I have a selection of roses, in different sizes and colours.

Finished roses

When I checked through the previous posts about this project, I realised that I hadn't explained how the leaves were made. I hadn't taken any 'in progress' photos either (bad blogger!), so I part unpicked a leaf in order to explain now. Each leaf is made from half a circle of green satin. The half circle is folded to form a cone, then the raw straight edge is turned under and slip-stitched in place. Finally the curved edge is gathered through the double thickness, and the gathering pulled tight to form the leaf.

Leaf in progress and completed

Now all I need to do is assemble the leaves and flowers on the dress.

Sunday, 14 September 2014

Yellow

The current HSF challenge is ‘Yellow’. You can see all the lovely things that the other Challengers have made here and here.

When The Dreamstress published the list of 2014’s challenges, I thought that I’d give this one a miss, because yellow is a colour which does me no favours whatsoever.

Then I found, and fell in love with, a fabric which I thought would work for the challenge.

Then I realized that I’d got quite big plans for the next challenge, and I couldn’t possibly do both, so Yellow got dropped again.

Then, because I’d not done any challenges for ages, I began to feel distinctly under-HSF’d.

And then, I remembered this.


The Dreamstress posted this image for 2013’s ‘accessorize’ challenge, and I thought it was gorgeous. I still do, and as it’s small (in size if not, as it turned out, in effort) and undoubtedly yellow, I thought I’d give it a go.

The first challenge was getting suitable velvet. When I enquired at my local fabric shop the staff said that they very rarely had any yellow in, as there was no call for it – clearly it’s not a colour which does anyone else any favours either! Eventually I found a remnant of furnishing velvet in a very pale yellow; paler than I wanted, but better than nothing. It’s also too stiff to recreate the buttery-soft draping of the original, although a careful wash softened it up a little. On the plus side it is a cotton velvet, which is more period appropriate than the synthetic dress velvets on offer, even if I’d been able to get the right colour.

All of the bag frames I could find were modern and plain, but then I remembered that I had a frame in my stash already - and it turned out to be perfect. Plus, I managed to find some chain to go with it - even more perfect.

Bag frame and chain

I enlarged the picture of the original bag to the same size as my bag frame, and used this as a guide for making the various decorations.

The beaded flowers were the easiest things to make. I threaded size 11 seed beads onto beading wire, and experimented with numbers until I got to the correct petal size. Then I twisted the wire to hold the loop together and made the other three petals all on the same length of wire, twisting after each one.

Making the bead flowers

The easiest way of making the strawberries was to use velvet ribbon, as I only needed a tiny amount of fabric. Unfortunately all the pink velvet ribbon that I found was too much of a dolly mixture pink, so I bought some beige instead and dyed it with fabric paint. Painting onto the velvet pile produced a blotchy effect, but I discovered that if I painted the back of the ribbon and let the colour soak through, I got a much more even coverage.

Painted ribbon for the strawberries

I sewed tiny pink beads on randomly for the seeds. Then I folded the velvet in half lengthways, right side in, and sewed it up in a cone shape. I cut it to shape after I’d sewn it, as it was far easier to handle that way. Then I turned the cone right side out, stuffed it tightly with cotton wool, and sewed up the top. The leaves were made from green and gold shot ribbon.

Completed strawberries

The six-petal flowers on the original bag are obviously made from a non-fray material. For these, I experimented with painting both white felt and heavy sew-in interfacing with fabric paints. The felt took up the colour better, but when it dried it went very stiff, and developed a bumpy texture. The interfacing was harder to paint evenly, but I found that if I soaked it first, and then lightly patted it dry before painting, this allowed the colours to flow more easily. As well as wetting the fabric, I thinned the paints down to a fine wash and built up the colour through several layers.

Felt and interfacing samples, showing the chewed effect of the punch

I had hoped to cut out the flowers using a punch, but both the felt and the interfacing were far too fibrous for this to work; they just got chewed up and wedged in the punch. So I stuck with the old-fashioned method of drawing a pattern, pinning it onto the fabric, and cutting round it. My curved embroidery scissors were a great help in getting a smooth line. Finally I sewed some seed beads into the centres.

Pattern pieces and flowers

The round flowers (roses?) were the trickiest to get right. In my local fabric shop I found some compressed paper beads, which I thought I could use for a base. However they were a bit big, so my plan was to cut them in half to make them shallower, and peel off the top layer of paper. Good plan, but it just wasn’t possible to peel off only one or two layers. Fortunately another, larger branch of the shop had the beads in a smaller size.

Paper beads, showing what happens when you try to peel off a layer

On the original bag, these flowers have lots of subtly different shades of fabric. I managed to find the same fabric in two slightly different shades; one pink and one mauve, and then got busy with the fabric paints again.

The painted fabrics (strong colour is the wrong side)

Because the beads are made of paper, it’s possible to sew fabric onto them. This does need to be done carefully though; otherwise a wisp of paper comes out with the thread, and once pulled through the fabric is impossible to remove.

I made the flowers by sewing a small patch of fabric onto the bead, and then layering bias strips of different coloured fabric, folded in half lengthways, round the beads.

Clockwise from top: the initial patch, starting the bias strips, a completed flower

From the picture of the original bag I can’t really make out what is going on around the edges, just below the bag frame. There is some lace at the top right, but also some indistinct wispy stuff. I decided just to use organza ribbon and gather it.

I struggled to find any suitable lace for the centre. All the wide laces I looked at were either the wrong type of lace, or horribly nylon. Then I remembered the stash of lace and other trims which I was given by a friend’s mother-in law. This turned out to include some lace which had a straighter edge than I would have liked, but was otherwise ideal.

Velvet, organza ribbon and lace

To work out the shape for the velvet, with the folds at the sides, I made a mock-up out of heavy cotton, and then unpicked it to get the pattern.

The mock-up

The final pattern

Then I had to work out how to construct the bag, and in particular what order to do things in. It seemed best to do as much of the decoration as possible onto a flat piece of fabric, so I placed the cotton pattern onto the velvet and thread traced round it.

The pattern marked out on the velvet

Then I pleated the lace to give it a vaguely curved bottom edge, and attached it and then the organza ribbon.

Organza ribbon and lace attached

The ‘roses’ came next, followed by the interfacing flowers and some of the wire flowers. The ends of the wire were pushed through the velvet and opened out on the wrong side, and I also sewed a bead over the centre, which covered the wire twists a little.

I couldn’t add any more until I had pleated the velvet at the sides. I cut along the top of the shape, on the front half only, sewed it into the frame, and pleated the excess fabric at the sides. Then I added a rosette of organza ribbon at each side to cover the top of the velvet pleats. Finally I attached the remaining wire flowers on the right, and the strawberries on the left.

Next I cut out the top of the back and pleated it. Then I sewed the sides together, turned the bag right side out, discovered that there was no way that the velvet was going to fall into nicely draped pleats, sewed the back into the frame, and added the chain. Obviously it still needs lining, but that can be done another time (the “Re-do” challenge, possibly!).


The small print:
The Challenge: Yellow
Fabric: Velvet, interfacing, unknown synthetic fabric for the round flowers
Pattern: My own
Year: Early to mid twentieth century
Notions: Beads of paper, glass and plastic, velvet and organza ribbons, wire, metal bag frame, chain
How historically accurate is it? A few modern materials have crept in, but it is based on an extant item, and most of the materials and construction are accurate, so 90%
Hours to complete: Way more than I was expecting, a lot of them spent experimenting with fabric paints!
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: Bag frame £10, velvet £2.08, chain, paper beads, ribbon, fabric for round flowers £4.62, everything else from stash, so £16.70