More swatching

When will I ever learn? Needless to say, describing fixing the damaged cushions at my local community café as a "'little' job" turned out to be tempting fate. More damaged cushions have sprung up like mushrooms, and despite the kind help of one of the other regular attendees, there are still several to do. Getting on with the toile has been shelved until this is done, but I did find time for a bit of knitting.

I knitted up a second swatch for my 1915 shawl, this time using 4.5mm needles, which equate to U.S. size 7/old UK size 7. Unsurprisingly, when blocked it came out larger than the swatch knitted on 4mm needles.

4mm swatch on top of 4.5mm one

It also felt, and looked, like a far more open knit. As the pattern states that "Closeness of texture is the feature which makes this a generally useful shawl", I decided to stick with the 4mm/size 8 needles specified in the pattern, even though the swatch produced felt rather chunky.

Then I had the genius idea of trying to re-block the 4mm swatch to the gauge listed on the yarn label instead of just randomly stretching it! (I know, I know - I wasn't at all at my brightest when I first blocked it, so never thought about this). I marked out a 22 stitch and 28 row section, calculated the likely dimensions of a 33 stitch and 57 row swatch blocked to gauge as a belt-and-braces approach, and set to work.

Slightly different shape!

Blocked to the right size, the swatch has a thickness far more suitable for a shawl. It also retained its size and shape after handling, so I am confident that this is the right degree of blocking.

Once I knew this, I could consider the dimensions of the completed shawl. No size information is provided in the pattern, except that it should be knitted until it is 50" long, and then a further 45 rows knitted. This would equate to 56½"/ 144cm, which feels like a reasonable length for a shawl. However, the pattern is 219 stitches wide. In the gauge for my wool, this is 40"/100cm. Given that I am 64" tall, a shawl which would cover almost ⅔ of my height seems a bit excessive.

I folded a remnant to 100 X 144 cm to get an idea of the size. Obviously, fabric drapes differently from knitting, but it confirmed that this would be a big shawl. When I checked, I discovered that it's actually the size of my bath towels rather than anywhere close to my existing shawls.

So much fabric

It almost reaches down to my knees

Something that size was also going to use a lot of wool, and be quite heavy as a result. I wondered if the Capstan yarn suggested for the pattern was thinner than my DK wool, and so would produce a narrower shawl from 219 stitches. Combing through the booklet which contains the pattern for any clues, I found a section on the different Beehive products. Capstan was listed in the section of Soft Knitting wools. These were described as "4-ply yarns which are more tightly twisted than Fingerings", and of the four types available, Capstan was "slightly thicker". Double Knitting was a separate section, and described as "a thick 4-ply Fingering".

Unless I come across a skein of teens era Capstan yarn for sale somewhere, I guess I will never know for certain. But given that old yarns are generally regarded as being thicker than the modern equivalents (Lister Lee DK is described as more of current Aran weight, for example) and also the needle size of 4mm, modern DK still seems like the best choice for the project. So I will simply work out what width I want the shawl to be, and cast on accordingly.

Even so, it's still going to use a fair amount of yarn - more than will fit in one of the repurposed totes I use for my shawl projects. The clear-out which brought the Dress of Frump back to my attention also unearthed a cute but long-forgotten length of craft cotton and today, as a break from the endless cushion repairs, I made a new (lined, of course) project bag for the occasion.

Complete with wool

Another metre used

Hopefully I will be able to finally start on the shawl soon.

Swatching the shawl

I have tried a few bits of sewing this week, but of course whenever I automatically reach for my phone to take a snap to show Mum, it brings me up short. So it has felt safer to concentrate on knitting for a while. Even then, I don't fully trust my powers of concentration (drying a plate and putting it away - in the fridge - is just one example of why!) so for now I'm sticking to the low stakes effort of swatching a new knitting project. As this is going to require a few samples, it is keeping me occupied for a while.

I have picked up my historical knitting project, a shawl from this 1915 booklet.

Shawl and booklet

It is described as having a border of plain knitting and a centre "worked in a simple vest pattern". I have no idea what a vest pattern might be, but it is definitely simple - only four rows long, and worked in alternating blocks of three knit or purl stitches. What there is not, however, is any indication of tension. It's knitted on size 8 needles, which equate to 4mm/U. S. size 6, and was to be knitted in 'Capstan' wool.

4mm needles suggest DK yarn, and I found this 100% Blue Faced Leicester in my local wool shop, in a shade which seemed suitable for a teens era shawl.

Emu Gold in shade Slate Fell

Supplies were very limited, so I bought a skein in a different shade for swatching experiments. First, I knitted a stocking stitch swatch, just to check the gauge. It came out a little bit large once blocked, but that's not a problem for a shawl.

First swatch - almost no concentration required

Next, I knitted a sample using the stitches for the actual shawl - a plain border and a patterned centre. It soon became obvious that when I changed from knit to purl stitches, there was a gap.

Laddering to the left of the knit blocks

I found this article on how to fix the problem by knitting the first purl stitch with the yarn passed opposite way round the needle than normal.

Examples

It fixed the laddering, but seemed to transfer the problem from the first purl stitch to the last knit stitch instead, so I'm not sure if it's worth pursuing.

Wonky knit stitches instead of laddering

The stitches did even out a bit when blocked. I wasn't aiming for a specific size, I just stretched it what seemed a reasonable amount but not excessive.

This is the only shot which shows the wool colour accurately

The vest pattern is the same on both sides, just the columns are reversed.

Both sides of the swatch

The finished piece feels quite thick, especially when folded double like the illustration of the shawl. The yarn also feels thicker than any DK I have used previously, but that might be because it is wool rather than synthetic or mixed fibres. I couldn't find any information about Capstan yarn as far back as 1915, but it does seem to have been an Aran weight yarn from at least the 1960s. Certainly the name suggests sturdy knitwear for seafarers! Aran yarn on 4mm needles would surely have produced a very dense knit.

Having drawn a blank on 1915 yarn, I turned to Ravelry to see how other people are using my own yarn choice. There are currently three shawls knitted in Emu Gold on there, one knitted on 4mm needles and two knitted on 4.5mm. So my next step is to knit another patterned sample, but this time on 4.5mm needles. I can also try to improve my vest pattern knitting while I’m knitting it. Thank goodness I bought that extra skein!

First challenge completed

Success! I've completed my first Historical Sew Monthly 2026 challenge and the first item of my 1915 ensemble. The challenges can be completed in any order, so originally this was going to be for the March challenge, Comfort at Home. This is to "Make something to wear around the (historical) home or that would be generally only seen within the household", and underwear definitely fits that bill. But once it was done I had a change of plan and instead went for the January challenge, Joy for January. Part of the description of this challenge is "Create an item that epitomises the joy you find in historical costuming", and it really has been a joy to pick up historical costuming again; I hadn't realised how much I missed it.

Challenge completed (Note: the proportions are deceptive!)

Admittedly, it was hardly a difficult challenge. It's a simple make, only two pieces, and between Lauren's extra notes for the pattern and The Dreamstress' blog post I had a lot of hand holding.

The back has a central pleat, to add extra width for sitting down.

Back pleat from the right side

If this had been a skirt vent, I would have just overcast the raw edge at the top of the pleat. But as it's going to be worn next to the body, I covered the edge with some scrap cotton tape to make it neater and more hard-wearing. I also flat felled the shoulder and side seams.

Back pleat from the wrong side, with tape edging

I used beading lace round the neckline, attached by the Dreamstress' method of turning the raw edge of the garment to the outside, and enclosing it in two rows of stitching.

The trimmed neckine

I also followed her approach of reinforcing the flap with a second layer of fabric, to provide more stability for the buttonholes.

Up to this point, I had done all the sewing on my 1930s treadle machine. But then circumstances dictated that I had to be away from home for a while, with no access to a sewing machine but plenty of time on my hands. So the rest of the sewing was done by hand. Thanks for the suggestion, Juliana!

The armholes were trimmed with lace. Again this was sewn over the raw edge of the fabric, but this time folded to the inside.

The lace is sewn to the inside of the armhole

The pattern has markings for where the buttons/buttonholes should go on the flap - either option is historically accurate. But to me, this seemed a long way down the flap. So instead I sewed them closer to the edge.

This looked like annoyance waiting to happen

I have some kind of blind spot about buttonhole stitch. No matter how often I do it, I can never remember how it differs from blanket stitch. Normally I refer to my trusty copy of Vogue Sewing, but this time I didn’t have it to hand. I did, however, have a dim memory of having photographed the relevant section on my phone ages ago 'just in case'. And sure enough, there it was!

When a plan comes together

Finally, my wash buttons were a little grimy from years spent in a button tin, but I scrubbed them with soap and an old toothbrush, and this greatly improved matters. So here is the finished article.

It looks absurd, but it's really comfortable

The ribbon is synthetic and too stiff to really tie properly - a replacement has been ordered. But that's the only issue I have.

I thought that the low flap might feel weird, but I didn't really notice it once I was wearing the combinations. If fact if, like me, you have the misfortune to remember 1980s bodysuits (iykyk), something with fastens you can both see and reach easily is an absolute boon!

It's also very loose-fitting

I tried putting my 1911 corset on over the top, and the combination (no pun intended) worked really well.

But fits under my corset very well

There is still an issue with the corset, but thanks to The Dreamstress' Fortnight in 1916 posts I've finally worked out what it is. And the fix will fulfil another Historical Sew Monthly Challenge.

In the meantime, here are the details for this challenge.

The small print:
The Challenge: 1, January, Joy for January
What the item is: Combination underwear
How it fits the challenge: After a long break, it's a joy to be picking up historical costuming again
Material: White cotton
Pattern: Wearing History Circa 1917 Combination Underwear & Chemise
Year: Around 1917
Notions: Cotton lace for armhole trim, beading lace and ribbon for neckline trim, vintage wash buttons for fasten
How historically accurate is it?: The pattern, fabric and most of the notions are correct for the period. The ribbon is synthetic, but will be replaced as it is too stiff
Hours to complete: Around 12. It's not a complicated pattern, but I hand sewed a lot of it as I was away from home, and my hand sewing is very slow
First worn: Just for photographs
Total cost: All the materials were in my stash, so this is an estimate based on current prices - fabric £14, trims £3.25, so £17.25 total

Button joy

So far, so good. Despite, or possibly because of, a stressful week, I've forced myself to make time to do some sewing rather than just sit there and stress. And guess what? I've felt better for it.

The Wearing History underwear pattern is a good way to ease myself back into historical sewing. It's entirely straightforward for someone who is used to using vintage patterns, and Lauren's notes clear up any areas which might need a little more information. In a quieter week I would have it finished already. But it wasn't, I haven't, and it's not complex enough to merit two posts. So instead, here's a short post about one aspect of it which has cheered me up far more than it had any reason to - the buttons.

The pattern

I'm making the leftmost option, the combinations without a fitted waistband. The back piece extends into a flap, which fastens to the front with two buttons. The search for appropriate buttons is a regular source of angst on this blog, but this time not only do I have suitable buttons, but there is almost nothing else that they could be used for.

The tools for the job

These are 'wash buttons', a metal base covered in linen, specifically designed for items which would be laundered frequently and washed at very high temperatures. Unlike shell or bone buttons, they could also be put through a mangle with no danger of breaking. Cotton underwear is precisely the sort of thing these buttons were designed for. These ones were in button boxes in sewing collections which I have bought at auction, and I had kept them while expecting to never have a reason to use them. But their time has come!

Whereas most button cards are plain, washing buttons often seem to be on cards marked into squares or columns. I have no idea why.

Found on Etsy

I would have thought that boil-proof buttons which can go through a mangle would be a thing of the past, but no. They are still made by Prym, among others.

Still going strong

Not that I need to buy new, as I have some already. As I said, I’m unreasonably pleased by this small victory.

Having a go

This may be a bad idea (although goodness knows, it won't be the first of those to grace this blog) but, despite having next to no sewing time at present, I've decided to take part in this.

It's been a while

Although I did a little historical sewing in 2024, I haven't participated in the HSM since 2020, and I miss it. So on the basis of 'what is the worst that could happen?' I'm just going to jump back in with a project I've had in mind for a while - making a 1915 outfit. As I have no clothing at all from that era, I need to make the full ensemble, ideally working from the inside out.

1915 fashions from Fashion: A Timeline in Photographs: 1850 to Today

Luckily for me, I've got some help. Back in July 2016 The Dreamstress spent a fortnight living as much as possible like a middle class Wellington housewife would have done a century earlier, and documented the experience on her website. There was information about food and keeping house, but also a fair bit about what she wore. Since then, she has issued several of her own patterns for garments from the era. And I am shamelessly using all this information to build my own wardrobe.

First up will be the base layer, for which I am using this pattern from Wearing History.

Chemise or combinations, circa 1917

It comes with a warning that the original instructions are very limited, but having made period undies before it looks quite straightforward. Plus, The Dreamstress made this pattern up for an HSM challenge and wrote about it, so I have lots of hand holding for my first foray back into historical sewing.

I'm horribly aware that my plans could very easily be derailed by Life at any moment. But if that happens, it happens. I'm not making this for anyone else, or for a deadline, so it's a very low risk project in terms of getting it completed. And whatever may be waiting in the wings, I will get more done than if I had never even tried. So here we go.

Something new

I have an entirely new project in mind. It's a long time since I've done any historical sewing, and I would definitely like to get back to it. Completing my 1986 dress has reminded me just how much I can get done, if I put my mind to it, and how satisfying it is to really work on something. So I'm hoping to get back into the Historical Sew Monthly this year.

I've discovered that despite the name, knitted projects are also allowed. This may have always been the case, but when I last made something for the HSM I wasn't a knitter, so possibly I just didn't notice.

Historical knitting is a whole new rabbit hole for me to fall down! And happily, there's lots to investigate. In particular, I've discovered the Antique Pattern Library - a mind-boggling collection of patterns for all sorts of crafts, and free to access.

It also gives publication dates, which is how I know that this booklet dates from 1915. I was thinking of making a teens era ensemble anyway, so this definitely caught my eye.

At 68 pages, it's a substantial 'booklet'

There is an initial chapter on the basics of knitting and crochet, along with information on different types of wool. This includes "vest wool" and "petticoat wool", as well as a variety of different types of 4-ply. The subsequent chapters cover different types of knitted and crocheted items, with an illustration for each chapter. There are lots of items for babies and children, but chapter six is "Waistcoat, shawls, jackets and spencer".

The items in chapter six

Most of the shawls are crocheted, which is a new skill too far for me. But one is knitted.

Close-up of the knitted shawl

A quick skim through the instructions suggests that it's within my capabilities. There's still lots to work out in terms of yarn choice etc, but historical knitting, here I come!

Historical Sew Monthly - Go Green Glow-Up - part 2

Well, that took far longer than intended. Once I had completed the mock-up for my 1874 ensemble corset (you can read about that here) I ordered the fabric and other supplies - and then got completely distracted by scrubs, summer dresses, masks, and life in general. But it is now, finally, finished.

I had bought a metre of coutil, but because the supplier was running low on stock at the time, this consisted of a piece of spot broche and a piece of plain sateen coutil in the same colour. My initial plan was to use both, but I found that with careful positioning I could cut the entire thing from the sateen, so saved the broche for another project. The sateen piece was slightly on the diagonal, so I had to cut everything from a single layer, although given the need for accurate cutting I might have done this anyway. The trickiest party was making sure that I remembered to reverse all the pieces!

Everything squeezed in

I had kept the filleted shell of the purple corset to use as a reference. This turned out to be a good move because I found the pattern instructions a bit scant in places, especially as I was making a single-layer corset rather than a lined one.

I had forgotten just how long making a corset takes; the boning channels in particular seemed to go on forever. On the plus side, the eyelet-setting pliers I had bought some time ago but never used turned out to be a great improvement on the setting tool and hammer which I had used before.

Eventually I had a completed corset shell with boning channels, and tried it on.

Clearly, I am hopeless at corset-sizing. My 1911 corset came up too small, and I had to set in an extra strip of coutil down each side. This time I went the opposite way. Despite the fact that the mock-up fitted with a perfect lacing gap, the actual corset did not. Either I have lost a huge amount of weight since early April (highly improbable, given my enthusiastic 'support' of my favourite local café once it started doing cake takeaways!), or something went very wrong in the construction. Whatever the reason, I also discovered the hard way that it is really, really difficult to loosen off the laces of a fully-closed corset!

Spot the problem

Once I had finally extricated myself, I had to consider how best to remove an inch from either side of the corset. Taking the excess out of the back panels seemed like the best approach. They are large pieces and the widest unboned area of the corset, and I could reduce them without cutting and restitching the waist stay, which I didn't want to do. I unpicked the ends of the waist stay from the lacing strips, opened the seam between the back pieces and the rest of the corset, reduced the back panel, redid the seam and boning channel, and reattached the shortened waist stay.

I must say that the inside of the corset looks far neater than the inside of its predecessor.

Everything neatly finished in the right order this time

I bound the edges with purchased satin bias binding in silver grey. The original corset wasn't flossed at all; it relied on the bones being the same length as the channels and held in place by the binding. This time, in line with the instructions, the bones were shorter - and in the interim I had learned about the existence of flossing! I followed the basic instructions in Jill Salen's Corsets: Historical Patterns and Techniques, and used stashed cotton perlé thread as recommended by Julia Bremble of Sew Curvy. The bottom ends were done in cream thread to stand out, and the top ends in grey to blend in.

The corset bound and flossed

For the trim I used some vintage lace from my stash, positioned so that the grey binding just showed through the first row of the net ground. Then I finished off the top edge with a cream binding to match the lace.

Lace detail

The end result is quite a plain corset, but that is what I was aiming for. I wanted something that would look like a Victorian woman's 'everyday' corset, rather than something very ornate.

Worn over my chemise

Now with a proper lacing gap

I used the Laughing Moon pattern because I already owned it, and had some experience of making it up. However this review suggests that it is rather 'cylindrical', around the torso, and looking at the end result, I'm inclined to agree. Possibly the overbust shape gave an impression of greater fullness, but despite the fact that I have gone up a cup size since I made the purple corset, somehow my bust looks flatter in this one.

Side view, not a great shape

However in terms of what the challenge is meant to achieve, I'm very happy with it. The brief is to, "Be environmentally friendly and celebrate how your making skills have 'glowed-up' as you've used and practiced them by taking apart an early make of yours that no-longer represents your making skills, and re-making it so you’d be proud to use it.", and I certainly feel that it fits that bill. This is only the third corset I have made, and the first without any input from a tutor - either online or in person - and it terms of historical clothing it feels a world away from the purple satin corset. It is also something I will actually wear, which the purple corset was not, so that has to be an improvement.

Comparing the two

The small print:
The Challenge: November, Go Green Glow-Up
What the item is: 1874 corset
How it fits the challenge: Made by dismantling a non-HA overbust corset I made previously, and re-using as many elements as possible
Material: Sateen coutil
Pattern: Laughing Moon #100, Dore corset
Year: 1837-1899
Notions: Metal busk, bones and eyelets, cotton waist and bone tape, cotton corset lacing, purchased binding and vintage lace for trim, cotton perlé for flossing
How historically accurate is it? The pattern claims to be accurate for the period, but the binding includes synthetic fibres and the lace is vintage rather than antique, so I'd say 85%
Hours to complete: As they were spread out over more than four months, I lost count
First worn: Only for photographing
Total cost: Because of the nature of the challenge I have only included the items I bought/used from stash, not those salvaged from the original corset. These were: coutil £12, waist and bone tapes £3.13, new shorter bones for the front £1.72, eyelets and lacing £7.93 (the old lacing cord was usable but the wrong colour, so has gone to stash) binding and trimming £5.07. Total £29.85.

The effect on the stash

Next step, the bustle cage!

The 1874 project

Vintage and historical sewing are both paused for a while, as a friend has asked me to join her in a group currently making scrubs and other items for our local NHS trust. This is proving trickier than I'd expected, mentally rather than in terms of the actual making, and I was hugely relieved to find from this post on the Sewcialists website that I'm not alone in this regard.

What I wish I was sewing this month . . .

. . . and what I'm actually sewing

So, in part to remind myself that this too will pass, I thought that this week I would properly explain my 1874 project. I've briefly described the background to it (at the bottom of a long post), but here's the detail of exactly what's involved.

I'm planning to make this outfit.

The 1874 project in a nutshell

I know that this illustration dates from 1874, April 1874 to be precise, because it is part of this pattern which was in that month's issue of the Journal des Dames et des Demoiselles.

Showing another of the garments on the pattern

I blogged about the pattern four years ago, and even traced off the pieces for the jacket. The sleeve pieces, and how they fitted together, were fairly clear.

Upper sleeve, under sleeve, cuff and straps

The bodice was harder to understand, not helped by the fact that I only had the front view to go from.

Bodice pieces

Shortly after this, I applied to do my Masters, and the pattern was forgotten. When I first had the idea to pick it up again, I turned to the internet to try to understand what the back might look like. Initially found myself entirely lost in a muddle of Early Bustle, Late Bustle and Natural Form eras, but eventually I realised that I was starting to be able to tell them apart - yay! Then one evening, I was doing more research (aka browsing fashion plate images on Pinterest and idly scrolling though the ‘More like this’ option) and found . . .

Bingo!

This image of an 1874 fashion plate had been posted by Isabella in her (now sadly no longer updated) All The Pretty Dresses blog. Curiously though, it's not from the Journal des Dames et des Demoiselles, but from Le Moniteur de la Mode. It is exactly the same pattern, however. The purple skirt just visible on the right is the one shown in the photograph of the pattern above, and the green and brown ensemble is also on the pattern sheet.

Clearly the same drawing

I wonder if it was wholescale plagiarism, or if there was some connection between the two publications?

It will be some time before I tackle this pattern, however. I have no clothing from this era, so I need to make the whole lot. I am working from the inside out, so that each item I make has the correct garments underneath it. The full set will consist of:
- chemise (already made)
- drawers (already made)
- corset
- bustle cage
- petticoats
- skirt
- overskirt
- jacket (or 'casaque' as it is called on the pattern).

I might also make a corset cover if I think the outfit needs one, and I also hope to make the hat, and ideally a parasol as well. The chemise, drawers and corset are all from the Laughing Moon Mercantile pattern number 100 - Ladies' Victorian Underwear. For everything else apart from the jacket (and probably for some of the construction details of that), my starting point will be this book.

Izabela makes beautiful costumes (you can see examples of her work here), and the book is packed with useful information - I've already used some of her helpful tips while making my corset mockup.

I must admit that I'm not sure what I'll do with this outfit once I've completed it, but it will be a long time before I have to think about that!