Feels like a loooooooooooooong time since the Squiggle last posted! She has been such a busy Squiggle!
Sam's sari maxi dress is nearing completion, it just needs the final tweaks and one last fitting...
Friend Harriet has requested a cotton, short summer dress, so we've found her some creamy broderie anglaise, cotton lawn and some Cath Kidston strawberry pattern fabric to be transformed. Next, the pattern! So a second session is require for the design to be finalised, the pattern formulated and the fabric cut.
A set of doll's clothes for friend Sandy has sat in a box recently waiting to be continued, so that's on this week's sewing lists...
My early fifteenth century, red wool overdress and red linen underdress needs to be completed within the next two weeks for a show, as does friend Alicia's outfit of blue cotton overdress, red linen underdress, cloak and headdress will all have to be created in this time too. Fortunately we have her speedy sewing machine to hand, so over-locking shouldn't be a problem. She is also a different shape body-wise to me, which poses new challenges....
Was there anything else?
Oh yes, and i need to pack to move house... this last weekend was spent hoovering dog-haired rug and carpet in my home-to-be.... Also i believe there is a presentation to sort for a week friday... hmmm....
Showing posts with label red. Show all posts
Showing posts with label red. Show all posts
Monday, 6 June 2011
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
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.
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 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.
Better photos and more progress to come! Watch this space! ;-D
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
(I love the tapering end off the sleeves in this one!)
A marriage - a European Bride and her ladies, 1350's
(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.
Italian illustration, ladies in silk gowns with a saint, ca.1380
(I love the saint's stripy underdress sleeves :-D)
Belles Heures de Duc du Berry, St. Jerome Tempted by Dancing Girls, 1408-9
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
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.
Friday, 1 April 2011
Of show girl presentation and good habits...
It's a windy, sunless day outside, so the prayers are that nature is saving the sun for this weekend - Show Time!!
I can be found doing what my friends consider insane and what my fellow re-enactors may consider enthusiastic. I'm hand washing all kit that needs it, polishing and conditioning leather shoes and jewellery, brushing off any missed dry mud (though considering my kit's been in storage all winter, that should have been done anyway last year) ironing my medieval dresses and checking them for any loose threads or tears that require mending. I suspect my underdress needs altering. My fiance can be found finishing my ladies girdle and polishing his own armour in his workshop for the same occasion.
For me, this is a necessity. Tonight and tomorrow morning i will pluck my eyebrows, wash my hair, clean my nails and make sure there's no polish on them; check everything is packed so that nothing's out of place for this weekend's show at Cardiff Castle. So why do i care so much? Why does attention to every last detail for a two-day event matter?
The answer is quite simple. I'm a show girl, and i do it properly. Always have done, always will do.
Picture for a minute this:
It's a medieval event at a castle, you're the public and you've paid money to see a high standard presentation of how medieval life would have been.When you go inside, it more-or-less looks all as it should be, so you take pictures and look forward to playing with them and uploading them to the internet later, or showing them to your relatives. But when you sit down to look at them later on, you spot one girl shot in costume with bright red nail varnish glaring at you, distracting you from the fine rings on her hands, or detail to her sleeves. Another has a dress so creased it must have been crushed in an attic for ages, you can barely appreciate its patterns. Another clearly has used a modern hair band to hold her hair away, and yet you wonder how medieval women really kept hair tidy? Some man in a shirt, coat and hose is licking on an icecream and you wonder why they have a watch visible? Was this really a good show? Did you believe in the people you were observing?
They may sound really obvious mistakes, and the funny thing is that most of the above are really easily solved and are usually the result of forgetfulness or sloppy laziness. Ironing is time consuming admittedly, especially if it is a huge houppelande, but it's no different to ironing the rest of your clothes - it's a respect thing. Both for yourself and what you're wearing. Even just hanging it correctly can limit creases. Sometimes medieval veils had deliberate creases, but that's different. If you want deliberate creases in your veil, do not detract from this by being careless with the rest of the outfit. Nail varnish can be removed in seconds with pads or solution. Hairbands can be covered by ribbons and strips of leather. Thick, gothic makeup or cakey mascara can quickly turn an outfit from natural to fantasy. Minimalistic is always best - makeup only became cakey in Elizabethan times. Even straightened or curled hair by artificial means can look so very wrong! Watches if they must be kept can be hidden in a pouch or wooden box well away from the public. The icecream is a food for when the public has gone home - can't you have a word with the icecream van and arrange for them to reserve you one? It's funny how slipping on one minor thing can completely ruin the overall look.
Perhaps this attitude all goes back to my experiences and habits from the age of eight. I often miss working on stage, where everything had to contend with bright lights and colours. Foundation was bright orange, eyeshadow was bright blue, lipstick bright red, thick mascara, khol black eyeliner and the blusher was positively doll-like. You could be covered in spots on a bad day and still look a million dollars with thick makeup on. All you had to do was sit in front of a mirror for 30 minutes applying it, it was like some kind of soothing ritual. You could do your hair slick back in a tight french plait with gooey gel that would set hard and look smart as anything. Slip on a ready costume that had been maintained by the costume department. All you had to do was turn up with a box of makeup, tights and dance shoes. Those were the good days. :-) My Mum never let me be anything less than smart, and it gave you the feel good factor. Perhaps it was only wearing makeup for special occasions that meant i never felt the need or drive to wear it for school; there was no point - you only got in trouble. Why do that when you could save it all for later?
But what people forget in re-enactment is that working in full contact with the public is even more exposed. You don't have several metres and the darkness between you. In some respects i prefer working face to face with the public than behind several string barriers because it keeps you on your toes. You don't get lazy with your appearance. You pay even more attention to the 'look', just to get it right. If you're one of those who perform behind a barrier, try to treat it like you're face to face with them in your appearance. And people appreciate it. I even scent myself with incense smells of the time so that the public get the whole experience. Many learn best by the memory of sights and smells and colours, so it should be encouraged. The lovely thing is the smell lingers, so it leaves your silks and linens with a slightly spicy scent over the winter. I don't apply makeup if i can help it, otherwise it just rubs on my outfit - pale skin was fashionable. I confess that sometimes the odd dash of pale foundation is applied if skin misbehaves, but never anything too noticable. It can also be tricky putting on suncream when you've got so much makeup - better protected than burnt - the 'burnt princess' or 'cooked knight' look is not impressive...
Maybe i sound a little... OTT or obsessive when it comes to detail, but i firmly believe that attention to every last detail can make the difference between an ok performance, or a gobsmacking one. If you can't get it right when it truly matters, why bother?
I can be found doing what my friends consider insane and what my fellow re-enactors may consider enthusiastic. I'm hand washing all kit that needs it, polishing and conditioning leather shoes and jewellery, brushing off any missed dry mud (though considering my kit's been in storage all winter, that should have been done anyway last year) ironing my medieval dresses and checking them for any loose threads or tears that require mending. I suspect my underdress needs altering. My fiance can be found finishing my ladies girdle and polishing his own armour in his workshop for the same occasion.
For me, this is a necessity. Tonight and tomorrow morning i will pluck my eyebrows, wash my hair, clean my nails and make sure there's no polish on them; check everything is packed so that nothing's out of place for this weekend's show at Cardiff Castle. So why do i care so much? Why does attention to every last detail for a two-day event matter?
The answer is quite simple. I'm a show girl, and i do it properly. Always have done, always will do.
Picture for a minute this:
It's a medieval event at a castle, you're the public and you've paid money to see a high standard presentation of how medieval life would have been.When you go inside, it more-or-less looks all as it should be, so you take pictures and look forward to playing with them and uploading them to the internet later, or showing them to your relatives. But when you sit down to look at them later on, you spot one girl shot in costume with bright red nail varnish glaring at you, distracting you from the fine rings on her hands, or detail to her sleeves. Another has a dress so creased it must have been crushed in an attic for ages, you can barely appreciate its patterns. Another clearly has used a modern hair band to hold her hair away, and yet you wonder how medieval women really kept hair tidy? Some man in a shirt, coat and hose is licking on an icecream and you wonder why they have a watch visible? Was this really a good show? Did you believe in the people you were observing?
They may sound really obvious mistakes, and the funny thing is that most of the above are really easily solved and are usually the result of forgetfulness or sloppy laziness. Ironing is time consuming admittedly, especially if it is a huge houppelande, but it's no different to ironing the rest of your clothes - it's a respect thing. Both for yourself and what you're wearing. Even just hanging it correctly can limit creases. Sometimes medieval veils had deliberate creases, but that's different. If you want deliberate creases in your veil, do not detract from this by being careless with the rest of the outfit. Nail varnish can be removed in seconds with pads or solution. Hairbands can be covered by ribbons and strips of leather. Thick, gothic makeup or cakey mascara can quickly turn an outfit from natural to fantasy. Minimalistic is always best - makeup only became cakey in Elizabethan times. Even straightened or curled hair by artificial means can look so very wrong! Watches if they must be kept can be hidden in a pouch or wooden box well away from the public. The icecream is a food for when the public has gone home - can't you have a word with the icecream van and arrange for them to reserve you one? It's funny how slipping on one minor thing can completely ruin the overall look.
Perhaps this attitude all goes back to my experiences and habits from the age of eight. I often miss working on stage, where everything had to contend with bright lights and colours. Foundation was bright orange, eyeshadow was bright blue, lipstick bright red, thick mascara, khol black eyeliner and the blusher was positively doll-like. You could be covered in spots on a bad day and still look a million dollars with thick makeup on. All you had to do was sit in front of a mirror for 30 minutes applying it, it was like some kind of soothing ritual. You could do your hair slick back in a tight french plait with gooey gel that would set hard and look smart as anything. Slip on a ready costume that had been maintained by the costume department. All you had to do was turn up with a box of makeup, tights and dance shoes. Those were the good days. :-) My Mum never let me be anything less than smart, and it gave you the feel good factor. Perhaps it was only wearing makeup for special occasions that meant i never felt the need or drive to wear it for school; there was no point - you only got in trouble. Why do that when you could save it all for later?
But what people forget in re-enactment is that working in full contact with the public is even more exposed. You don't have several metres and the darkness between you. In some respects i prefer working face to face with the public than behind several string barriers because it keeps you on your toes. You don't get lazy with your appearance. You pay even more attention to the 'look', just to get it right. If you're one of those who perform behind a barrier, try to treat it like you're face to face with them in your appearance. And people appreciate it. I even scent myself with incense smells of the time so that the public get the whole experience. Many learn best by the memory of sights and smells and colours, so it should be encouraged. The lovely thing is the smell lingers, so it leaves your silks and linens with a slightly spicy scent over the winter. I don't apply makeup if i can help it, otherwise it just rubs on my outfit - pale skin was fashionable. I confess that sometimes the odd dash of pale foundation is applied if skin misbehaves, but never anything too noticable. It can also be tricky putting on suncream when you've got so much makeup - better protected than burnt - the 'burnt princess' or 'cooked knight' look is not impressive...
Maybe i sound a little... OTT or obsessive when it comes to detail, but i firmly believe that attention to every last detail can make the difference between an ok performance, or a gobsmacking one. If you can't get it right when it truly matters, why bother?
Saturday, 5 March 2011
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
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
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