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embroidery appears on earlier chemises, from the examples I found online it appeared that by the 1870s it had largely been replaced by insertions, but I didn't have any suitable trim to do this.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

January dress finished!

An extra post this week because I've finished Butterick 5748, my January dress for the Vintage Sew A Dress A Month challenge, and I've got something else to post on Sunday.

I finally finished all the hemming, and here is the end result. This is the dress without a petticoat, and just the stiffness of the cotton lining to hold the skirt out.

Demonstrating the added pocket!

The full lining did add to the sewing time, but as well as giving the dress some body it makes for a very neat interior.

In effect, it's two dresses sewn together

It makes the zip especially neat

One thing which I forgot to mention in earlier posts is that the dress back is lower than the front. I was worried that it might be too low on my short torso, so raised it by 2.5cm / 1", and was glad that I did. This is the end result.

Showing the scoop back

I do wish that I'd thought to pattern match the bodice back seam though!

And here is the dress worn with a belt, a net underskirt, my most 1960-ish shoes, and a matching cardigan.

The full look

The cardi was actually the start of this outfit. Because I am such a poor/super-slow knitter, I tend to get very excited when I come across knitwear specifically for petites. Hence I bought this cute bolero, and then realised that it went with absolutely nothing that I owned. So the obvious solution was to buy some suitable fabric - which then sat in my stash for a couple of years. However it finally all came together. It's not exactly a January outfit, but I can see it getting a lot of wear when the warmer weather comes.

Even though I went totally off-piste with the cutting layout, I didn't use any more fabric than the yardage given on the pattern envelope. Which brings me to. . . the Stashometer. Starting afresh felt like cheating, so I decided to carry over last year's deficit. Happily, all that lining means that the overall fabric use for this dress was quite high.

In credit!

Slow going on my January dress

I had hoped to be posting about my completed January entry for the Vintage Sew A Dress A Month today, but it's not quite finished. For some reason, hemming a circle skirt of thin viscose is harder, and takes longer, than hemming a circle skirt of cotton. Also, the dress is fully lined, so once I've finished that I've got the lining to hem as well - although that will be done by machine.

My pattern choice for January

Part of the reason why this dress is taking so long is that I made life harder for myself by altering the cutting layout. Like many of Butterick's other full-skirted pattern reissues, 5748 has the skirt cut at right angles to the bodice - along the fabric rather than across it.

Cutting layouts for different views and fabric widths

This wasn't a problem when I made Butterick 6582. The bold floral print looked much the same both up-and-down and sideways.

This fabric hides everything

The stash fabric I'm using for 5748 however is strongly directional.

This fabric does not

I didn't want to have the black elements of the pattern running up and down on the bodice, and sideways on the skirt, so I used an approach which was common in the 1950s.

This Weldons pattern is a good example, as it also has a full skirt - in this case it's a semi-circle.

Weldons 1606

Because the completed skirt sections would be wider than most fabrics available at the time, they are split into two pieces; the skirt and the skirt gore.

Instructions showing the pattern pieces

These are stitched together, and then the completed pieces are sewn up to make the skirt.

The skirt construction

I folded my fabric in half lengthways, and cut out the skirt front and back on the fold. Before I unpinned the pattern from the fabric, I marked where the edge of the fabric was, making an allowance for the seam. Then I used the pattern piece to cut out the extension. Naturally, I had to pattern match the join - I couldn't bring myself not to! And then, I decided to alternate between black and light grey thread on the join, to make sure that the stitches don't show. Talk about a glutton for punishment!

Attaching one of the skirt gores

Because the viscose is so thin, I used a thicker cotton for the lining than I'd normally use, to give the dress some body. I also had to patch one of the bust darts with a lighter section of the fabric, to stop one of the back circles from showing through. The only other changes I made were my usual ones of swapping the zip to the right side and adding a pocket in the left side skirt seam.

This is the dress as it currently looks. I'll post some pictures of me wearing it when I finally finish the hems! I'm hemming it with the light grey thread, and going over the stitches in the black sections with a black permanent laundry marker pen. I did the same on the hand-picked zip.

On Nancy, awaiting hemming

Making a modern hussif - part 2

Here are the rest of the construction details of my hussif. You can read part one here.

The finished article

The inner piece was also made on a base of plain white cotton. I started off by covering the curved end in one of the two light printed cottons I'd chosen, then added sections in alternating fabrics to form the pockets. Each piece formed the top on one pocket, and the underside of the next one. The raw edge at the top of each pocket was folded over to the right side of the fabric, and covered with cream satin ribbon.

Progress shot of the pockets

I made three rectangular pockets, and then added a little curved one at the end, made from the outer fabric for contrast.

The pockets end completed

Most of the other end was covered in the spotted fabric, with a gap in the middle and a gap at the end. These would become the needlebook and the pincushion respectively. I sewed on pockets for the scissors, seam ripper and tape measure, and added straps to hold the scissors and tape measure in place. These are fastened with small press studs (snaps).

Originally the seam ripper was just going to be in a pocket, but I realised that it could slide out easily, so I added a flap to the top. This fastens with a button and elastic loop, because I was worried that the pressure of closing a press stud might crack the seam ripper. The button was an orphan in my button box, and the elastic came from the swing tag of something I'd bought - I was just about to throw it out when I realised that it was the perfect thickness!

With all the securing straps and flaps open

The far end was made into a pincushion - with a difference. My thimble was a lucky find in a workbox which I bought at auction along with a stack of vintage patterns (it was the patterns that I wanted). Initially I thought that it was a cheap metal, but when I polished it, it came up shiny and with hallmarks! These showed that it was made in 1905 by Charles Horner, and hallmarked in Chester. It's a perfect fit. As I don't want to dent or lose it, I made a pocket for it inside the pincushion.

I made the pocket out of a tube of stiffened fabric, gathered at one end and capped with a scrap of fabric. On the pincushion fabric I sewed a circle of tiny double running stich, the same size as the pocket tube. I cut the circle into eighths, being very careful not to snip through the stitching, pushed the pocket through, and overcast round the edge of the pocket and the hole.

The thimble pocket attached to the fabric for the pincushion, shown from the wrong side

Sewing the pocket in place, shown from the right side

The pincushion was then made up and stuffed, and attached to the hussif. To keep the thimble extra secure, I made a flap for the pocket, using the dark outer fabric to tie it in with the little pocket at the opposite end of the hussif.

The thimble secure in its pocket

Finally in the middle of the hussif I made a needlebook from leaves of felt, in colours to match the fabric. The bottom, blue, layer contains pins.

The tools end completed

I slip-stitched the inner and outer layers together from the pincushion end, and added the ribbon ties at the curved end. Initially I wasn't sure whether to use dark or light ribbon.

Ribbon choices

I did try sewing the two together, but the end result was too thick and stiff. In the end I chose the light ribbon.

I'm really pleased with the end result. Rolled up, it's just a nice size to carry in my hand, and it's perfect if I want to go away and take some sewing with me (and I always take sewing with me if I go away!).

End-on view of the rolled-up hussif

Sewing goals for 2020

I may not have managed to do much sewing in 2019, but I'm hoping to make up for it in 2020.

Warning: this is going to be a long post, as I've got lots of goals to write about.

Possibly the most important one (certainly the one with an immovable completion date) is making an outfit for my graduation in March. After all, having spent three years studying and writing about vintage home dressmaking, I can't really turn up to the ceremony in something modern and shop-bought! Of course it needs to be made from a vintage pattern, and something fancier than my usual cotton print dresses.

I've chosen this 1954 Patou Vogue Paris Original pattern, which is from a large lot of patterns which I bought at auction some years ago. I never got around to blogging about the collection as a whole, but it really boosted my interest in vintage patterns.

Goal number one - Vogue 1277

This was the reason for the 9.5 metre addition to the stash on last month's London trip. Cate, who blogs as Vintage Gal, makes wonderful 1930s clothes, and does amazing tailoring, had told me about Crescent Trading near Spitalfields, so I paid them a visit. It is fabric-lover's dream shop, stacked to the rafters with wools, silks, and all sorts of other goodies besides. After a lot of deliberation I bought some beautiful superfine merino suiting in blue with a slight black speckle, which gives it depth. I also bought some fine silk twill for the lining. The jacket collar can be made from fur, which was not going to happen, or velvet. Philip Pittack at Crescent Trading told me that they didn't carry much velvet, but it turned out that what he meant was not much by their standards, so only a dozen or so colours. Happily this included a dark blue which was perfect. Then at Barnett Lawson I found some braid and velvet buttons which were an exact match. They only had six left and weren't getting any more in, but luckily six was what I needed.

Clockwise from left: suiting, buttons, velvet, silk lining

It's a very long time since I've done any tailoring, so this will be a chance to really bump up my skills.

The dress will double-up as my February entry to my second goal for 2020, taking part in the vintage dress-a-month-along organised by Renae Brock Fitzgibbon and Lizzie Violet.

Goal number two

As soon as I heard about this challenge, I thought that it would be perfect for making me actually get on with some sewing. However I didn't want it to become an excuse for buying yet more fabric. So, my plan is to use the sew-along to actually get through some of my stashes of fabric and vintage patterns - both actual vintage and reissues. I am not short of any of these items: these photos show just a selection of what I can use for inspiration!

A worryingly small section of my stash

Some possible reissue choices

Some possible vintage choices

Fortunately, I do have somewhere to start. I found that I was frequently buying fabric because I thought it would be perfect for a pattern, or vice versa, but because I didn't start the project straight away, I would forget what I’d bought it for! So when my friend F gave me this Fashion Timeline Journal last year, I used it to record all the pattern/fabric combinations I had thought of.

1930s ideas

For January I am making up Butterick 5748 in a fine viscose. It's hardly the time of year for a sleeveless dress, but I'm using it as 'pre-work' for February's challenge, trying to sort out some fit and alteration issues. More details to come when I post about the dress.

January's pattern and fabric

However, this isn't the only challenge I’m taking part in this year. When people asked what I was planning to do once I had finished my dissertation, I always replied that I wanted to get back into historical sewing. Time constraints meant that I gave it up while I was studying, and I missed it. The Wedding Gown in a Weekend event just reminded me how much I missed it. So this year I am joining the Historical Sew Monthly again, and am really excited to be doing so.

Goal number three

One problem with my previous historical sewing was that what I made was a bit random: the only complete outfits I produced were my Ottoman dance costume, my 'Fortuny' dress and shoes, and my Wiener Werkstätte ensemble. However, this year the format of the Historical Sew Monthly has changed slightly. All the monthly challenges were opened at the start of the year, and can be completed in any order you choose. This is perfect for me, because while I will use some of the challenges for mending/fixing fit issues on stuff I already have, my main plan is to use them to make a complete 1874 outfit. I have nothing at all for this period, so intend to make everything, from the chemise outwards. The idea is to start with simple things which don't take much time, until my graduation outfit is done.

I chose 1874 because I own an actual pattern from that date (co-incidentally it was in the same auction lot as the 1954 Patou pattern), I blogged about it here. Though in-depth research/endless Pinterest scrolling, I managed to find the back view (thank you to Isabella of All the Pretty Dresses for posting it), so now have some idea of how the pieces fit together.

'Casaque du Printemps' - the illustration on the pattern

The jacket/casaque will be the last part of the outfit that I make, and my hope is that by the time I reach that stage my skills will have improved enough for me to tackle it, as there is only a brief description on the pattern.

So all in all, it's a very ambitious plan for the year. Wish me luck!