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!

Historical Sew Monthly - Go Green Glow-Up - part 1

I'm carrying on with two of the elements of last month's HSM contribution - working with something I have already made, and corsetry.

The next part of my 1874 ensemble is the corset, and I'm making it for the November challenge; Go Green Glow-Up. This is defined as "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. It can be as elaborate as a total re-make, or as simple as getting the ribbons or buttons you didn’t have time to source at first.".

I'm actually taking apart something I completed seven years ago! This corset was my contribution to the Historical Sew Fortnightly (as it was then) Lace and lacings challenge way back in June 2013, but I had actually started in in November 2009, on a short course.

The 2013 corset

This course was the first time I’d tried corset-making. We used the Laughing Moon Doré corset pattern, but adapted to make a modern overbust corset with a modesty panel.

Back view showing the modesty panel

All in all it is a strange hybrid, I suspect more intended to be worn as a fashion garment than as a historical corset. It was only years later, when I bought the pattern in an attempt to actually finish the thing, that I discovered that the version we had started on the course was missing many of boning channels. I added these, but the end result was very messy as it meant that some channels were under the waist tape, and some were over it.

Boning channel chaos

As boned bodices and pseudo-corsets are not really 'me', the end result has languished unworn in my wardrobe for almost seven years. It no longer fits me, even if I did want to wear it. My 1911 corset was made between starting and completing this project, and I did start a third one, but then Things Happened, and it was abandoned.

In the meantime, I have read so much about corsetry in other people's blogs that I feel I understand the subject much better. So when I started my 1874 project it seemed like a good opportunity to try making the Doré corset properly. And once I saw the November challenge, I decided to dismantle the unworn purple corset and reuse the busk and bones.

I had kept the pattern pieces which the course tutor had provided, and could even remember where they were! Although they were supposedly based on our measurements, when I compared them to the Doré pattern I discovered that they were exactly the same apart from extension for overbust. So I was surprised how well the original corset had fitted me, given that I have a short torso. I redrafted the pattern to my new size, took off ½" from the bodice length, and added ½" at the bottom so that the busk and bones will still fit. I have a long crotch depth anyway (basically, my waist is in the wrong place between my bust and hips!) so this won't be a problem.

I then made a mockup in calico, and even reused some of the old bone casing tape for the curved boning channels. The pattern needs a few minor tweaks, but overall I'm pretty happy with it.

The mockup worn over my chemise

Side and back views, with pinned-on lacing strips

I have ordered some coutil, and while I wait for that to arrive, I shall make a start on my April dress for the Vintage Sew A Dress A Month. It's also one of my #UseNine2020 choices.

Butterick 2535, from 1943

Historical Sew Monthly - Basic

This month I've completed the May challenge for the Historical Sew Monthly; Basic. This is defined as "Make a garment that can be used for many occasions (like a shift . . .)". For this challenge I made the chemise of my 1874 costume, because what is more basic than a chemise/shift?

I used the same pattern that I used for my drawers, Laughing Moon pattern #100, Ladies' Victorian Underwear. I adapted the pattern to remove the opening on the front yoke, click here for the full details.

The completed chemise

I decided to sew the front and back together and then do the pintucks all the way round, whereas the instructions suggest doing the pintucks first on the separate pieces. Because the chemise will be worn under a corset, I also ignored the suggestion in the instructions to use ordinary or French seams, and instead used flat felled seams at the sides. I started with the chemise pieces wrong sides together, to keep the inside as smooth as possible. Happily, it appears that my pintucking skills have greatly improved since I made the drawers.

Once the chemise part was completed, I pinned it to the yoke, right sides together, and sewed most of the way round. The only part which I omitted was the straight section at the centre front -  it was just too difficult to manipulate the fabric. Instead I turned the yoke part under once I had pressed and graded the rest of the seam, and hand-sewed it down. Then I turned under the seam allowance of the yoke, and slip-stitched it in place.

The hand-sewn portion of attaching the yoke

The photograph above also shows the embroidery I did on the chemise yoke. Although embroidery appears on earlier chemises, from the examples I found online it appeared that by the 1870s it had largely been replaced by insertions, but I didn't have any suitable trim to do this. Then I found this illustration of late 1870s combinations in Nancy Bradfield's Costume in Detail (page 250 of my 1997 paperback edition), which appeared to show an embroidered yoke.

Embroidery inspiration . . .

. . . and my sketch based on this

Despite the embroidery, the completed chemise looked a little austere. I wanted to add some lace trim, but everything I could find, either for sale or in my stash, was too wide and/or too synthetic. Then in a separate box in deep, deep stash I found some narrow cotton lace! It is a little darker than I would have liked, and now I wish I had done the embroidery in off-white to go with it, but no matter. It's not as if it will be on show!

Another two metres out of the fabric stash!

The small print:
The Challenge: May, Basic
What the item is: A chemise
How it fits the challenge: A shift or chemise is probably the most basic part of any ensemble
Fabric: Cotton, possibly voile
Pattern: Laughing Moon #100, Ladies' Victorian Underwear
Year: 1870s-1880s
Notions: lace for trimming, embroidery floss
How historically accurate is it? The straight seams are sewn by machine, which would have been possible at this time, and the rest is handsewn, so I would say 80%
Hours to complete:This project has really demonstrated just how slowly I sew. The embroidery and lace trimming took me a fair while, and the total was around 24 hours
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: The fabric and lace are from stash; I'm estimating £14 for the fabric and £3 for the lace. The embroidery floss was £1, so £18 in total

Laughing Moon #100 - making the chemise without a placket

Laughing Moon pattern 100, Ladies' Victorian Underwear, contains patterns for two different corsets, drawers, and a chemise. The chemise has front yoke consisting of two overlapping parts, which can be either fastened together with buttons or left to lie flat. The pattern details suggest that the front yoke can be made in a single piece with no placket if preferred (the neckline is wide enough to be pulled over the head without the need for the placket), but there are no instructions on how to do this, and part of the construction method given will not work with a single-piece yoke front.

I wanted to make the chemise without the placket, and I these are my notes on how I made the yoke.

Pattern illustration (top) and my single piece version (below)

Note: I cannot vouch for the historical accuracy of this construction method - indeed I suspect that it is not very accurate at all, as it is a technique used in modern dressmaking - but it does provide a neat finish.

My completed yoke

The first thing to consider is the cutting out. Pattern piece 24, the front yoke, allows for both overlap of the pieces and a seam allowance. For a single-piece yoke, the piece needs to be cut from folded fabric, with the 'centre front' line placed on the fold. To avoid any confusion, I traced off a new pattern piece. This also means that I still have the original piece, if I want to make a chemise with a placket in the future.

Place this line on the fold of the fabric when cutting out

Cut two of the new piece 24.

The instructions state to sew the yoke fronts to the back at the shoulders, and then repeat this with the facing pieces. Yoke and facing are then sewn together around the neckline and armholes, and the completed yoke turned right side out. However if the front yoke is a single piece, it is impossible to do this, as the yoke cannot be turned through.

This cannot be done with a closed front yoke

Instead, stay stitch all the curved edges of all the yoke pieces, then pin the yoke front to the yoke front facing, right sides together. Sew right round the neckline. Sew each armhole from the bottom to about three quarters of the way up. In the picture below, the pins mark the section to be stitched.

Sew the section between the red pins

Trim, grade and snip the seams (do not trim the unsewn sections of the armholes yet), then turn the yoke front right side out and press. Repeat the process with the yoke back.

Open out the shoulders of the yoke pieces, and with right sides together pin the yoke front to the yoke back.

Yoke front and back pinned together

Sew the shoulder seam of both yoke and facing in one continuous row of stitching. Press the seams open, and trim off the excess.

Press under the seam allowance of the remaining section of the armhole on both yoke and facing, you may need to snip the curves. Once you are happy that the edges of the yoke and facing match, trim off the excess fabric from the seam allowance. Sew yoke and facing together using either ladder stitch or overcasting, as preferred. I used ladder stitch, with a couple of overcast stitches at the shoulder seam to hold everything in place.

Sewing up the armhole

At this point you have a choice. The pattern instructions suggest you attach the chemise front to the front yoke and the back to the back yoke, then sew the entire side seam from hem to armhole. However to me this seemed likely to create a lot of bulk at the bottom of the armhole. I preferred to complete the yoke as a separate piece.

The way this is done is very similar to the shoulder seams. Open out the front and back yokes, pin the side seams right sides together, and sew in one continous line. Press the seam open, and trim off the excess.

The side seam pinned together

The result is a yoke with smooth seams.

My completed yoke on my dressform

I will cover making and attaching the chemise, and a bit about the embroidery, in my next post.

Historical Sew Monthly - No-Buy

My first completed challenge for the 2020 Historical Sew Monthly isn't very exciting, but it's a start. As I mentioned here, this year the challenges can be done in any order. So I started with July; No-Buy. This is defined simply as "Make something without buying anything." I made a pair of drawers for my planned 1874 outfit, using stashed fabric and a pattern I already own.

As I said, unexciting

Some time ago I read a piece (which of course I can't now find, but I think it was by Jennifer Rosburgh of the excellent Historical Sewing) which mentioned that a common mistake for historical costuming newbies is to use fabric which is too stiff and heavy. This was certainly the case with the cotton I used for my Edwardian chemise and drawers. The fabric seemed light enough when I was cutting out, but the end result is definitely crisper than I would like for underwear. The 1909 slip which I made a year later from a cotton/linen blend has a lovely soft hand, and this really highlighted the issues with my first choice.

The Historical Sew Monthly is all about learning and improving, and this was definitely a lesson learned. Unfortunately most of the cotton on sale locally is craft/quilting weight, so on the rare occasions when I find anything lightweight, I snap up a few metres and stash them. I'm not sure where this fabric came from, but it is beautifully soft, and there's enough left for a matching chemise.

The pattern is Laughing Moon Mercantile number 100 - Ladies' Victorian Underwear. I bought it years ago, when I was trying to work out how to finish the Satin Corset From Hell.

The pattern

Although the pattern claims to be suitable for 1837-1899, the chemise and drawers patterns are actually from the 1880s. However after checking various of my costume books I decided that any differences from 1874 were not great enough to justify buying a new pattern.

Due to time constraints, I sewed the drawers by machine. I'm not sure how historically accurate this is for 1874, although something I read for my course* suggested that in Britain at least, sewing machines were widely used by outworkers by that date, so I don't think it's entirely improbable.

What would be improbable however is that my pintucks would ever have passed muster if I were an outworker. They didn't look too bad when I was sewing them, but once pressed, it became obvious that they are all over the place. I may tidy them up as part of one of the other challenges. Although the pattern suggests ordinary or French seams, I flat-felled the leg seams to give a smoother finish.

Very wonky pintucks

My friend F came round when I was working on these, and she was amazed by the open crotch design: basically the drawers consist of two separate legs sewn onto a waistband. I explained that this was a necessary design feature of undies worn with a corset laced over the top, and once she saw the illustration on the pattern envelope, it all became clear.

Showing the separate legs

Of course, the 'no-buy' element is reflected on the Stashometer.

Further in credit

The small print:
The Challenge: July, No-Buy
What the item is: A pair of drawers
How it fits the challenge: The fabric and notions are from my stash, and I already had the pattern
Fabric: Cotton, possibly voile
Pattern: Laughing Moon #100, Ladies' Victorian Underwear
Year:1870s-1880s
Notions: Cord for waist tie
How historically accurate is it? Given my uncertainty about the date of the pattern and machine sewing, and the unacceptably poor pintucks, I would say 75%
Hours to complete: 8
First worn: Not yet
Total cost: All from stash, but I'm estimating £7/metre for the fabric and 50p for the cord, so £14.50


* - Godley, A. (1999). Homeworking and the sewing machine in the British clothing industry 1850-1905. In Burman, B. (Ed.), The culture of sewing: Gender, consumption and home dressmaking

Grrrrrr!

It's been a frustrating week.

The purple satin corset continues to find new ways to annoy me. Despite carefully marking the positions of the eyelets, somehow a few of them ended up distinctly out of line. One of the eyelets didn't set properly, but nor could it be removed, so more hammering was needed to at least smooth it down a bit. Oh, and inserting eyelets can now be added to the (very long) list of Things Which Make Satin Ripple.

Wonky eyelets

I bought my own copy of the Laughing Moon pattern so that I could check where the boning should go, and this confirmed that there should be bones both on the seams and partway across the panels. Meanwhile someone who had been on the same course a day later than me lent me her completed corset to inspect, which proved that the tutor only intended us to bone the seams. I've ordered some more spiral steels from Vena Cava Design, but discovered that not all of the boning channels on the seams were sewn wide enough to get the bones down, so will have to be redone. Again.

Where the bones SHOULD go

While I wait for the bones to arrive, I thought I'd tackle another challenge. Stretch fabric is a bit of a mystery to me. I've used it to cover bras for dance costumes, and to make simple things like belts and arm pieces, but I've never tried anything more structured. A calamity with a dress over the summer (I'll post about it sometime, when I've recovered from the trauma) convinced me that I need to start from basics. Kwik Sew pattern 2632 (now out of print) includes a wrap top, and as I fancied a change from the black top I wear for class and rehearsals, I thought I'd begin with that.

Pattern for a wrap top

Constructing the top went reasonably well, apart from a slight ripple in one sleeve. Unfortunately finishing off the raw edges was another matter. I used a wide zig-zag stitch, but despite using a suitable needle for stretch fabrics it skipped a lot of stitches, so I had to go over some parts again. The result looks fairly messy, so clearly I need to experiment a bit more to get this right.

The finished top (don't look at the edges)

The third piece of frustration came from my stash. We always have a Ya Raqs end-of-year girls' night out, and this year we are going to a 'Vegas Night'. Of course, for this I need a suitable dress. My plan was to use Vogue 1302, and I had the perfect fabric; a brightly printed satin with a dark background.

My dream fabric

When I took got it out however I discovered that it has quite a stiff hand, almost like a taffeta. As the dress requires something soft like charmeuse or shantung, the fabric almost certainly won't work. I need either a different pattern, or a different fabric.

After all of this, finally some good news. Along with several of the other Ya Raqs girls, I recently went to JoY, a middle-eastern dance weekend. In the souk and in workshops we noticed a new type of hip belt; made from two long pieces of stretch fabric sewn together either side of the hip, with the ends hanging loose. I decided to tackle stretch fabrics again, and have a go at making one.

I bought a remnant of a fine knit fabric, and drafted basic pattern pieces for the part which fits around your hips, making the back piece deeper than the front.

Belt pattern, front and back

Then I pinned these to the middle of the fabric, cut roughly towards them from each side, and then cut out along the top and bottom of the pattern pieces. I used woolly nylon thread to overlock a rolled hem on all of the raw edges apart from the top edge of the pattern piece, stretching the fabric as it went through the overlocker to give a 'lettuce leaf' effect. Finally I made a loop of elastic to fit around my hips above my skirt (I still prefer a circle skirt to trousers, very old-fashioned!), and attached the pieces to it.

Colour co-ordinated belt, wrap top and circle skirt

If I make another one (and I probably will), I'll make both pieces a bit longer. Finally though, a success!

UFO Corner - the purple corset

I don't tend to have a big UnFinished Objects pile. Sadly this isn't down to super efficiency on my part, just that I'm more of a USO* girl. There are lengths of fabric and piles of patterns stacked up in my workroom, waiting to be used. Some of the fabrics and patterns even go together! Once I do start something though, I usually tend to finish it reasonably quickly.

Projects just waiting to be started!

There are always exceptions however. This corset was started on a day course a couple of years ago. Unfortunately most of us on the course didn't get anywhere close to finishing our corsets. Even more unfortunately, immediately afterwards Mr Tulip and I were going on holiday, so I didn't carry on with the project straight away. Occasionally I'd take a peek in the box where the bits were stored and consider trying to finish the thing, but the longer I left it, the scarier it looked.

I came across the box again recently, and having made the 1911 corset earlier in the year, suddenly it didn't look quite so scary. Then I realised that next month it will be a whole three years since I did the course, so I decided to get the corset finished before its third anniversary.

So what was I starting from?

We used the Laughing Moon Dore corset pattern, and before the course the tutor had cut out the pattern pieces for us, based on measurements we had sent her. She provided coutil, bones etc, and all we had to provide was fabric of our choice for the outer layer. Knowing nothing about corset construction, I chose a purple satin, not realising quite what a bad choice this was for a beginner.

On the day we cut out the coutil and fabric, tacked the fabric pieces to the coutil, cut out and attached the front facing, inserted the busk, sewed the pieces together, did the first fitting and made any necessary alterations. Actually that's not bad for one day, but a long way off a completed corset.

I didn't think to take any pictures before I started work again, but this was taken after I'd finished the seams and put in a couple of the boning channels.

More or less what I came home with, three years ago

The only instructions I had were a few scribbled notes on finishing the seams. These were to be covered with bone casing tape, although now I'm not sure why this was used, as there were only enough bones provided for the boning channels marked on the pattern, not for boning the seams as well. Once I'd completed the seams, I noticed that the thread I had used to sew around the busk three years ago was very different purple from what I had just sewn with, so I had to take out the busk stitching and redo it. Cue first lot of heavy sighs.

The boning channels gave me my first inkling that satin had been a Very Bad Idea. I wanted them on the inside of the corset, but if I worked with the coutil and tape uppermost, the sewing machine feed dogs marked the satin. Instead I had to tack on the casings, sew with the satin side uppermost, and hope that I didn't miss the edge of the tape. Sadly I did miss it, quite a lot. Cue second lot of heavy sighs, lots of unpicking and a few rude words.

Then I discovered that I didn't have enough casing tape to do all the casings. I had to unpick the tape from the longest seam, over the bust, and replace it with ordinary seam binding. This took several attempts to get right, and when I finally managed it I discovered that on one side I had managed to catch the waist stay into the stitching, at completely the wrong angle. Third lot of heavy sighs, more unpicking and some very rude words indeed.

All this unpicking left a few marks on the satin, and the rows of stitching for the casings and to finish the seams provided more evidence of why satin had been a poor choice. What had previously been a smooth and glossy top layer was now very wrinkled, and the shine of the fabric really emphasises any lumps and bumps.

Smooth without boning channels, wrinkly with them

Adding the back facing made me realise that flat lining the coutil to the fashion fabric had been another Very Bad Idea as it made no allowance for turn of cloth, so the coutil is now slightly bunched up on the inside. I had however finally got something resembling a corset.

On the way to a finished corset

There is one plus point to all of this frustration. When I made the 1911 corset, cutting the holes for the grommets took ages because I simply didn't apply enough pressure. When it comes to hitting this one very hard with a hammer, I don't think I need worry about holding back!

Grommet holes marked, pass me the hammer!

* - UnStarted Objects, in case you hadn't guessed