Of a late fourteenth to early fifteenth century dress...

Good evening blog reader! :-) The Squiggle has been more industrious than ever...

So, with my late fifteenth century armourer's wife overgown nearing completion, now was the time to get moving on my slightly earlier, late fourteenth to early fifteenth century merchant dress, which is needed for other living history functions and wearing to an assessed lecture for my degree.

Let's show you a transition of styles in Europe, from slightly looser fitting gowns, through to the beginning of clothes tailoring as we know it now. You might notice that there is little differentiation between countries at this point, though the material itself becomes increasingly elaborate.

The Romance of Alexander, France, 1338-44

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(I love the tapering end off the sleeves in this one!)

A marriage - a European Bride and her ladies, 1350's

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(Note the slit down the side of her overgown, trimmed with ribbon or braid)

Two women raking hay, Les Très Riches Heures du duc de Berry, Juin the Musée Condé, Chantilly.

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Italian illustration, ladies in silk gowns with a saint, ca.1380

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(I love the saint's stripy underdress sleeves :-D)

Belles Heures de Duc du Berry, St. Jerome Tempted by Dancing Girls, 1408-9

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I've had to hand some of the softest. finest red wool (bottom left) i've ever beheld - one could mistake it for velvet! I've also had a subtle brocade in off-white/cream (right) and red linen (top left) to spare for lining:

The pattern I've used looks something like this:

Herjolfsnes no.38 tunic with 8 fitted gores and two center front and back gores

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The Herjolfsnes gown has been used frequently by re-enactors as a source for an original pattern. Its survival is one of only a pinch of resources. The 'gores' (aka panels) allow the gown to be adjusted to closely fit the body, thus achieving the tailored finish. The top left image is a rough pattern for the sleeve (the little triangle sits a little higher than the shoulder blade, rather than in the armpit where we normally put a diamond shaped insert for freedom of arm movement).

I plan to fasten it down the front with buttons or lacing and possibly have tippets (arm bands with long, dangly bits at the elbows) in white/cream. The fabric has been all cut and the front half of the wool tacked. With time so tight, i've resorted to sewing it together with my old hand-turn Singer machine, rather than hand stitching the whole lot! I'll wear my red linen underdress with the black and gold sleeves underneath....

Here are a few shots to give you an idea - better ones to come when more tacking comes out and i can model it! ;-) With the nature of its shape, it's impossible to lie completely flat out. My apologies for the strange colours - my camera wouldn't behave tonight under the room light....

Front body: Right hand side of dress has been machine sewn, left hand side to go, hence the more vague seams.The middle-centre seam has been tacked for the moment to allow me to alter the shape appropriately, but it will be released for lacing later.

Skirt spread: I've closely followed the pattern above, but bringing the front seams a little closer to my bust line because of my petite shape. 

Better photos and more progress to come! Watch this space! ;-D

Of Sam's Sari Maxi Dress...

It's been one of those bits 'n' bobs days again.
Today was a pattern fitting with my friend Sam for her sari maxi dress, which i'm making for her birthday. In essence it's quite a simple concept, but being a perfectionist i wanted it to fit her well...

This is my typical first or second sketch, filled with crammed measurements - i'll add a neater sketch, worthy of a portfolio, later. 

Below, the fabric for the main body of her dress (the same as my 1950's dress). All the fabric for her dress is from the same sari, just different segments of it. The half of her body pattern shows off her lovely hourglass-style curves to full effect (ignore the fluorescent man making cunning plots)!

The bust has proven slightly trickier - rather than just a primitive triangular shape, Sam wanted a halter neck style. So i've sat and shaped it to avoid any funny gapes. Fortunately she's almost the exact same size as me, so i could use my own dresses to help shape it.

Above, the fabric for the bust and the pattern for the bust. The creases at the bottom are the result of experimentation of where i should make tucks. I'm not showing the reverse of this pattern, which Sam pointed out to me features the crotches of hunky rugby players... I don't observe these kind of things when i'm trying to make someone else's figure look good lol! It's been promised as a souvenir for her wall... ;-D

Above is the fabric for a triangular insert into the back of her dress. She wants the dress to fit everywhere else, so this piece is vital for allowing her to walk in it. It will start at the base of her hip level and flair out to the bottom.

The whole dress will be lined with pale pink cotton lawn because the stitching on the back of the sari is so fragile. The danger is that the threads will catch and the back of the fabric is rather see-through and scratchy, so it will be soft and protective, yet light.

Next is to get the lining and use it to get the basic shape, do another fitting on her, then cut the sari. This sari frays too easily, so i'm leaving cutting it until the last minute! :-)

Of the tortoise and the hare...

Yup, as per Squiggle usual, I'm up writing at an ever-so-student and insane hour. The time is 01:41am, the place is my cluttered room, littered with the haunts and shadows of an incomplete and uninspired degree dissertation. To those of my current course, this will be familiar and almost comforting to read! ;-)


Q. So what does a Squiggle do, when all energy has run its course and the once tearing stride of a hare grinds to a halt? When the well of academic ingenuity dries up? A. The Squiggle realises that perhaps the mistake was to be a hare in the first place. Secondly the Squiggle tries and fails to imitate a tortoise and simply ends up staring blankly at a screen for half an hour. In a third attempt, the Squiggle tries to return to something different that usually produces satisfying and confidence boosting results....


.... and so within minutes the Squiggle can be seen heaving her fifty year old sewing machine onto her desk and the room rapidly evolves into a swirling soup of red linen and pins! Yes, this was the moment for the meditative creation of a 15th century dress. I learnt the hard way over six years that to hare through a dress is not ideal if you still want to love the result two years later. So the two tortoise p's; patience and precision! With a lack of suitable costume fitting that of a medieval armourer's wife (to be able to do re-enactments with the fiancé), I relished the opportunity to breach the gap between the simple Medieval patterns I have known for ages and the more tailored, Tudor styles that we are accustomed to today. Tailoring clothes to fit the female form was a growing feature in the fifteenth century, particularly in the later half - in fact just starting with a pre-tudor underdress has been a revelation experience in itself! It does not conform to casually quartering the measurements of garments; there are front panels, straps and side panels, not to mention the back panels! In fact it is more a test of mathematics and mental judgement than anything else which makes a vast contrast. We have more physical and artistic evidence for the construction of such garments, so thus i have less room to make guesses or self-inventions. Which leads me onto the subject that many women ponder:


Corsets. When did they start? How were they made, and why? In so far as we can tell, there was no use for them until clothes begin to fit in the fourteenth century onwards, though this is assumed, for we have no remaining evidence. And why should we? If they were purely functional, there should be no reason why they would last until today.
Be it a means of correcting posture, hiding a gluttonous diet or disguising the bodily dis-figuration from bearing so many children, there is little doubt that there must have been an origin to the advantageous Tudor 'bodiced look'. Some have suggested that strips of cloth may have bound stomachs, others have considered the use of whale bone, reeds and willow among other forms of support. In discussion with other costume enthusiasts, we have debated the use of feather or fish glue as a stiffener. This is not as ridiculous as it may appear; some Ancient Greek re-enactors have tried and tested fish glue to set layers of linen in order to form their body armour - and it works! However in attempting to re-create my own Medieval to Tudor transition garments, it has become apparent that it must have something to do with the placing of seams. A greater number of component segments results in many vertical seams, of which there are many seam edges with a chance of fraying. In providing enough material for future alteration and being able to 'double over' the edges at the back, they automatically produce a combined strength and stiff quality to the fabric, as well as ensuring that the garment lasts whole. Inside such seam folds, one might be able to insert an extra rod of some description. This is just a personal theory, and the general consensus seems to be that it most likely started as a whole dress with some minimal stiffening around the upper body, which went from there. I'm always trying to test the boundaries on this topic, so watch this space for many more crazy theories!


Thanks to Caroline for the following image of Maria Portinari, see how her dress has odd angles at the hips and the bodice of the girl behind her has a shape that only something stiff would achieve:

Because I have no wench-like bosom, any further support in my bodices risks only flattening myself further, so i shall settle this time for thick, flat seams. My current underdress has used about five-six metres of linen, for though it has a fitted top, the skirt is extremely full (photos to follow!) It already bears great weight, so it's becoming increasingly tricky to imagine the weight once i have a similar pink-linen-lined, green wool overdress on, with equal quantities of fabric! The neckline is Tudor square to suit the turn of the century, but it will have no hooped skirt, being based on some paintings from the time.


I considered hand sewing the entire thing, which i did for the bodice, but now the weighty Singer sewing machine is a true blessing.... Squiggle would have gone truly nuts without it! :-D