Ramsay & Edinburgh Fashion

The exhibition Ramsay & Edinburgh Fashion, at the Georgian House in Edinburgh looks at the importance of fashion as a key signifier of good taste in the 1700s. It brings together a number of portraits by the artist Allan Ramsay, and looks at the fashion trade in the city in the middle of the century. Also on display are two items of dress from the period, as well as a modern recreation of the dress worn by Katherine Anne Mure when she sat for her Ramsay portrait.

The portrait and the newly-made dress

The dress was made over the course of six days in early June by a team of volunteers led by Rebecca Olds, who also ran the Wedding Dress in a Weekend project. As with that project (and as would have been the case when the original dress was created) it was made on the intended wearer - in this case another National Trust for Scotland volunteer. The work was carried out in the Georgian House, and was open to the public to watch. Unfortunately for me, this took place while Taylor Swift was performing in Edinburgh, so accommodation was impossible to find! Instead I had to visit a little later. However, this had the advantage that by then the dress was on display on a mannequin, where visitors were encouraged to examine it in detail.

Not the sort of label one usually sees

Dress front and stomacher

Dress back

The trimming was all made by Rebecca from strips of silk. She used a cutting tool like a shaped chisel, which was hammered into the silk to cut out a single scalloped shape. More details can be found on Rebecca's Instagram account here.

Trim detail

The other items on display are an exquisitely embroidered apron from 1740s and a sacque gown from the 1760s.

Apron

Sacque dress

The sleeve flounce shows the underside of the silk

Fly braid and patterned sections of the silk are used in the trimming

Ramsay & Edinburgh Fashion runs until 24 November 2024, and entry to the exhibition is included in the admission to the Georgian House.

Swings and roundabouts

I was originally going to call this post "Triumph and disaster", but that did seem slightly overdramatic!

The tie-on pockets are completed; all I had to do was finish off the binding and then add the waist tie. This was simply a long piece of white cotton tape, folded in half lengthways and sewn together. The pockets were attached within the fold, which covered the raw edges at the top. I'm really pleased with the end result, and have used them several times already.

Front view of the pockets

And the back view, with a 'secret bird'

So that was the triumph, what about the disaster? Well, during the week I went to launder my favourite dress - and discovered that it had actually worn into holes in a couple of places! It's the dress on which I had replaced the zip last year, and it's had a lot of use in the six years since I made it, but I was still really sad to lose it.

Noooooooo!

I had actually managed to start a new project, trying to catch up on my sadly neglected UseNine2021 challenge. The plan was to make view C of New Look 6594 in this pale blue viscose, and I had got as far as cutting out a first toile.

All ready to go . . .

I suspect that the two-part bodice will need a couple of mock-ups to get right, and as things currently stand this feels like a lot of work. I just want an easy, drama-free, project right now so making up another New Look 6093, a real tried-and-trusted pattern, was an obvious choice. And I found a printed blue floral (!) cotton in the dress-weight remnants bin at my local fabric shop which was an idea replacement for my worn-out dress.

. . . but set aside for this

Obviously, the Stashometer has taken a hit as a result, but as the dress is cut out already, I hope it won't be long before there's a matching entry in the 'used' column.

Going in the wrong direction

New problem, old solution

I don't feel as though I've done a lot of sewing in the first half of the year, and this is unlikely to change in the second half. I've been dealing with family illness on and off since before Christmas, and even when I haven't actually been busy with that, I've often not felt like sewing. However, this has now prompted me to start a new project.

While some people simply cannot be without their phones, I am the complete opposite. Most of the time it is not even in the same room as I am, and I rarely remember to check it more than a couple of times a day. Usually this isn't a problem - my friends are used to me replying to texts hours later - but now that I need to be contactable by carers, social workers, physiotherapists etc, I need to make sure that my phone is always with me. Not all my clothes have pockets (I dislike patch pockets, so it's in-seam or nothing, and not everything lends itself to in-seam pockets), so my solution is to make myself some tie-on pockets.

For readers not familiar with historical costume, tie-on pockets were an integral part of women's clothing in the eighteenth century and well into the nineteenth. They could be worn over the skirt for ease of access, or underneath for greater security. In the latter case, they were reached through a slit in the side of the skirt. This book, co-written by Barbara Burman, is a fascinating and detailed look at the history of pockets and the important role they played in women's lives.

The woman on the right wears a (patched) external pocket

This is actually a project I've had in mind for some time, and I immediately knew what fabric I wanted to use. I bought this remnant years ago at an Adamley sale, but it is a furnishing-weight cotton twill, not silk. The design is not at all period accurate, it is far too large for a start, but is perfect for a set of anachronistic pockets!

The colours are almost right, but I suspect that is all

I decided to bind the outer edges rather than do French seams, as these would be bulky in such a sturdy fabric. The initial plan was to use some dark red cotton for the binding, but then I remembered that it had been banished to the 'toiles fabric' box because the colour bled relentlessly. I didn’t want to risk it rubbing off onto my clothes, so instead I used some leftover sashing scraps from the University Centre Shrewsbury banner.

The pattern is taken from the pocket in volume one of Patterns of Fashion. It is 16" long, and 10" wide at the bottom, tapering to 4" at the top.

My source material

I made the binding ¾" wide, and hand sewed it round the opening slit on the pocket front. Then the front and back were machine sewn together, for strength, with the wrong sides facing.

The bound opening, and machine sewing

The binding was then hand sewn over the raw edges. I had thought that this would be a quick project and that I would have finished pockets to show in this post, but I seriously underestimated the time and effort involved in sewing through four layers of binding fabric and two layers of furnishing cotton!

Outer binding complete on the other pocket

I think that the end result will be really useful, not just for my phone but for other things which I'm always mislaying, such as my glasses. Tie-on pockets are definitely long overdue a comeback!

That awkward moment . . .

. . . when you realise that you have spent so much time in the Victoria and Albert Museum's costume court that you can recognise a new addition when you see it.

I was there recently, doing some research for a project I am planning for next year, and as I strolled out I spotted this dress and thought, "Ooh, that's new". The accession date of 2018 confirmed this.

Eyecatching!

Just to put this into context: I live 200 miles from London, which is actually the closest I have ever lived to the capital. Although I go to visit exhibitions etc, it's only a couple of times a year. That I know the V&A's costume collection so well is testament to the many, many hours of 'misspent' youth (and middle age) devoted to gawping at historical costume.

And this one is well worth gawping at. The label describes it as having been made in the Netherlands in the 1770s, from English copper-plate printed cotton. Despite my best efforts leaning against the case, it wasn't possible to see the front.

The best I could manage

Fortunately, the dress is on the V&A website: you can find the details, and more photographs, here.

Front view, image © Victorian and Albert Museum, London

The fabric itself is amazing. At first glance it just looks like alternating 'stripes' of broad and narrow motifs. On closer inspection it becomes obvious how much variety there is.

Different motif designs, I think I got them all

As they appear in the fabric

Clearly whoever made this dress was a skilled dressmaker, as they made excellent use of the print.

Bodice back

Strips of the wider motifs are used around the neckline

Piecing around the shoulder

The centre back 'stripe' is a striking feature

Clever use of the design on the cuff to mimic trimming

Different elements on the front and back of the cuff, but carefully matched

Whether by accident or design, the wider motifs barely show in the gathers at the top

Finally, if this dress inspires any visitors to have a go themselves, the museum bookshop has just what they need.

The American Duchess Guide to 18th Century Dressmaking

Now all that is needed is for Ikea to use this fabric design for a range of bedding!

More costume goodness at the Walker Art Gallery

An English lady's wardrobe is not the only costume exhibition currently on display at the Walker. The Design Gallery on the ground floor often has a small costume display, and at present it is showing Dressed to Impress: Fashion in the 18th Century.

Part of the display

The 13 costumes on display belonged to 'the middling sort', those who were neither poor nor extremely wealthy. Because they are all displayed in glass cases, reflections were a problem when trying to take photographs. The men's dark suits proved particularly tricky, but I was able to photograph some of the waistcoats

Silk satin waistcoat, 1760-80

The displays are arranged so that it is possible to see the backs of most garments.

Back view of the waistcoat

One of the display cases . . .

. . . and the other

Among the menswear on display is this early example of 'shapewear'. For those men who lacked the requisite shapely calf, help was at hand in the form of padded stockings. These were worn with a pair of ordinary silk stockings over the top, and are displayed here with the left stocking inside out to show the wool padding.

Silk stockings with wool padding, 1775-1800

My interest however was in the women's wear. This dress, seen in the centre of the second display case, is made from a stunning silk brocade woven with flowers in the centre of plain silk medallions, with textured fabric around them. The maker clearly wasn't sure what to do with the pleated trim around the waist when it reached the back pleats, so it rather peters out.

Open gown and matching petticoat, 1760-65

Side view

The odd trim finish at the back

This costume spans a number of decades. The brocade dates from 1736-38, the gown was made around 1770-80, and the quilted petticoat 1750-80.

Keeping fabric for decades is clearly not a new thing!

Piecing at the top of the skirt

This gown had been altered in the nineteenth century for fancy dress wear.

Silk brocade sack-back gown and petticoat, 1765-70

Side views

Fortunately, the trim remains unaltered.

Sleeve detail

Sleeve and bodice

The family that originally owned this dress believed that it had been a wedding dress, but it may just have been a 'best' dress.

Silk satin damask open gown, 1750-70

I had great fun playing 'spot the piecing' around the exhibition. Some examples required close inspection, but some made it easy. I don't know enough about eighteenth century dress to know whether this join was just careful use of fabric, or remodelling when pointed bodice fronts became fashionable - all suggestions gratefully received.

Using just the spotted part of the fabric makes the join less obvious

I loved the jaunty quilting design on the petticoat.

Silk and wool quilted petticoat, 1750-1800

Another example of an open gown with a quilted petticoat had the skirt arranged in a polonaise. The green silk brocade was my favourite fabric in the exhibition, but the costume was nigh-on impossible to photograph without reflections.

Silk brocade open gown 1770-80

Another exuberant silk and wool quilted petticoat, 1750-1800

Annoying reflection on the polonaise

The best view was from the back, framed by two other gowns

Dressed to Impress runs until spring 2020, and is free to visit. Alternatively, all the costumes are featured in this book about National Museums Liverpool's eighteenth century costume collection.