No Idle Hands

Wessexwork Memorial Sampler

2012-01-23T18:23:00.000-08:00

When I first discovered Wessex Stitchery - invented by Margaret Foster in the 1910s - I thought immediately of a memorial sampler for George Leigh-Mallory and Andrew Irvine, who perished on Everest in 1924.

I drew up the plan on graph paper immediately.

It is full of little puns in the stitches - Winchester for George's public school, Pacific with its waves for their both being in their respective college boats, Lindisfarne for its stained glass effect [there is a stained glass window at the church in Mobberly of George as Sir Galahad, his nickname], their respective college colours. It is meant to emulate that stained glass window, and give a sense of the magnificent colours of the Himalayas, while imparting some knowledge of their lives, in the ways that they were similar (many.) It ends with the closing line of a poem, written in 1909, by George's dear friend and climbing partner, the great Geoffrey Winthrop-Young (who dubbed George Galahad):

'Brothers 'til Death and a windswept Grave.
Ye who have climbed to the great white Veil -
Heard ye the chant, saw ye the Grail?'

Below is a picture of some of the stitches - my working sampler - and also a pic of George 'looking as if he's been dragged through a hedge' as one English friend of mine said.

New 17th C sampler patterns

2011-12-26T08:06:00.000-08:00

Ordered Five new charts for exceptional historic 17th Century samplers from The Scarlet Letter. Some are for their patterns, one is for its historical significance, and one is for its relation to my family history (supporters of the Stewart/Stuart cause). As you can see, I love band samplers, and these will keep me going for a while. Once samplers changed to teaching devices for young girls- rather than being records of patterns - both the variety of stitches and the quality declined, so that by the mid 19th Century, they were almost entirely in cross-stitch and some quite crude, both in design and execution. I much prefer the breath-taking intricacy of these from the 'Golden Age of Samplers'.

Elizabeth Paine

Joanna Warren

The Pattern Record

The Boscobel Oak
This historic sampler from the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge not only has lovely patterns, but depicts symbols associated with Charles Stuart and the English Civil War. As the blurb from The Scarlet Letter says 'The large oak tree in the lower-most panel contains three gold crowns, an obvious reference to the oak tree in the grounds of Boscobel House in Shropshire where Charles II was hidden after fleeing the Battle of Worcester in 1651. The local people assisted him in his escape, which explains the figure of the hunter saluting the tree. '

ER-IT
'Circa 1680... The upper section of the sampler exhibits spot motifs, more often found on samplers of the early 17th century. Hearts, stars, mazes, berries, concealed Stuart symbols, done in a wide variety of stitches characterize this section. Below that are floral and geometric pattern bands, including a row with two wonderful leering little boxers presenting flowers.'

Farb

2011-06-07T14:53:00.000-07:00

My eldest, Percival, is going to compete in longsword at Valhalla Faire in South Lake Tahoe this weekend, so we are making it a road trip. It's rather a scramble, as we found out on Sunday that it was THIS weekend. So needed to find accommodation, bunny-sitter, gather food, and so on. And Percival needs a new pair of breeks. Didn't think of that a Yuletide. Drat. So I'm rather busy for the next few days. Anyway, the breeks are something like this Polyvore Costumes:

But fuller. He's a swordsman, so cannot be poncing about in Court breeches or schlepping about in slops (think ginormous sailor trousers).

As for me, I haven't worked a Faire in yonks, nor even gone, I'm afraid, so I am doing what the childer always do and putting stuff together from my closet. Oh yes. I go to fancy dress parties from my closet. People say 'WHERE did you GET that?' and I say 'These are my clothes....' erm.... I DO have some anxiety about being a farb - inappropriately dressed in pseudo period costume - because I am a costumer, but it can't be helped at short notice. in truth I would be anxious about it unless I had spent weeks making period appropriate garb. Always was.

So many people have asked, when I use the word, what 'farb' or 'farby' means and where it came from. What it means they get from context - attire or accoutrements which excite snarky remarks from re-enactors - but the origin of the word is somewhat up for grabs. It first appeared in the early days of 'Civil War re-enacting' (War Between The States, or the Late Unpleasantness, in our down home environs) in the 1960s. Some say it is from the German for 'colour' (farbre), others that it derives from 'Far BE it from ME to comment on your Period Inappropriate [fill in blank]'. I think the German origin is probably stretching it, but we shall never really know. Anyway, as you can see, being farby is a very bad thing.

Friends don't let friends be farbs, and all that. (Got the t-shirt.)
Why else would one spend countless hours handsewing linen, wool, silk, in period correct manner, if not to avoid the dreaded F word?
Not ever for love of history and detail, perchance.

Robe de Style: Skirt fitting

2011-06-06T20:43:00.000-07:00

Have progressed - with several other projects in between - to fitting the pannier skirt. It is cartridge pleated, and arranged in the manner of 18th C. and New Look Skirts - with the fullness over the hips, not across the stomach or backside. The seams were machine sewn with edges turned under. The gathering and application is all by hand.

Front

Side Placket

Back

Side Back

My daughter Bridgie refers to this as my Fairy Princess dress.... That wasn't my intention, but it does bear a strong resemblance to Disney Princess gowns, because Walt used those silhouettes. I'm trying not to make this mean I can't wear it; it's meant for the opera or other such occasions.

Robe de Style: Bodice

2011-05-07T18:12:00.000-07:00

Got to work on the bodice today, after altering an overcoat for my daughter Brigid.... Something I never thought I would do! The bodice is very basic and so went together quickly, with the lining and shell sewn in assembly-line fashion by machine. The neckline is undersewn on the lining side and will have lace seam tape later after the neck ornamentation is done on the shell.

The hooks will go on the left side, so, that side seam is sewn two inches from the armscye.

The sleeves took a deal of time. The embroidered net was first fitted to the sleeve, gathered at the top, then basted. The sleeve underarm sleeve was then sewn and the sleeves handsewn into the armscye, with pleats at the top rather than gathers. The pleats were sewn with backstitches, the rest with a running stitch with a backstitch every few stitches. This is all very 18th Century technique- of which working with the silk reminded me. There was NO way I was going to try to cram this delicate fabric into the machine! Hand-sewing gives much greater control of the layers. No unpleasant surprises.

My idea with the sleeve capes was to tend toward the bertha, which was a favourite neckline treatment in the 1920s; also to use up the bits of fabric I cut from the skirt panels. Robes de style often had puffed sleeves of various kinds, and these sleeve caps are very puffed. The sleeve underneath is not tight-fitted, but semi-fitted, and will eventually have an inverted pleat at the bottom and be finished with lace seam tape.

The silk was lovely to work with, and it was a pleasant way to while away the day. I literally looked up and thought, 'how did it get to be teatime?!' This is how you know the your work is True Play.

I plan to work on the neckline ornamentation this evening; it's all fiddly antique buttons and gilt gimpe, ala Waterhouse's Ophelia, which I look at every day, hanging as it is in the loo.

Update: The ornamentation at the neckline is finished.

The gilt gimpe is from a doublet for Percival last Christmas, the rhinestone buttons from my former hubs' grandmother's button box, and the pearls are from Bridgie's First Communion dress. Yes, I do save all those bits and bobs of oddments, 'because you never know when they will come in useful.'

Robe de Style: the other 1920s dress

2011-04-23T20:38:00.000-07:00

I finally cut out my blue dress!
Was supposed to wear it tomorrow (Easter, to go with my 'Queen Mum' vintage hat from Macy's), but that clearly isn't happening.

It took me five hours to cut it out (making the muslin, fitting, taking apart, re-fitting, finally cutting the silk and the embroidered net.) Somebody - I think it was on Your Wardrobe Unlock'd - said that it's all in the cutting - the make or break of a garment - and I agree. NOBODY is like a pattern except the dressmakers' dummies, and the fitting muslin often looks pretty weird. All I can say is, Thank God for the sloper I made, and for Jeanne, my modèle de modiste; those two together make the world of difference... oh and the cutting table, of course. If I had to crawl around o n the floor doing this, or have everything half hanging off the dining table I'd give up. I LIKE handsewing and sitting like a tailor in the window - shades of a pastlife in London? - I like cutting and fitting, I could do it all day and never tire, but the physical comfort of the job means a lot.

My version is very modest, with a scoop neck and short sleeves. Mme. Lanvin used to make them up for all ages of women and the older the woman the higher the neckline and longer the sleeves. But it's abundant with embroidered net - the genesis of the project - antique buttons, ribbon flowers, and charm. The main fabric is from a bolt of turquoise tussah silk I got for an 18th Century gown and never made, because the gig was canceled, I have now used it for two dresses, and have enough leftover for a combing jacket, if not a dressing gown. The original late 18th Century gown was supposed to be a robe a la Francaise for maternity, which is why the enormous amount of fabric.

I have decided that Americans do not have waists because I have to not only take off a bunch at the sides, but make EVERYTHING a cuirass waist (like in the bustle period and 50s, where 'straight' lines - centre front etc. - are actually curved to fit the body. The patterns also have WAY too much ease. This is an old Laura Ashley pattern - it was the nearest shape - and it was originally cut for a size 6; it is still cut for a size 6 - 23 years later, but with 1/2" rather than 5/8" seams, even though I've got a good ten pounds on those days. AND I still had to curve the front side seams! As I recall, it was pretty loose from the underbust to the high hip, but it was for a day dress, so I didn't care. This dress, I care. I'm making it to fasten at the left side, as was correct, rather than zip up the back as the pattern calls for. I could have it zip up the side, but I don't want to. Hooks.

All the foufy bits - the embroidered net et al - is what makes it and it would be easy to go overboard - I had to reign myself in from expanding on my original design. I hope this will be worthy of Mme. Lanvin.

Will post photos as I go along. Did not post of the fiddly fitting and cutting because you all know about that.

ABC's of me...

2011-04-21T13:09:00.000-07:00

Form courtesy of Margaret (click on name) at Margaret's Blog.

A - Age: 48
B - Bed size: Double. Single
C - Chore you hate: washing up the dishes. it was my chore as a child. Actually, I just hate the idea.
D - Dog's name: no dog. HAD a collie named MacTavish...
E - Essential start of the day item: TEA!
F - Favorite color: Green, no red, no...augh... Seriously, Green
G - Gold or Silver: Gold - preferably old
H - Height: 5'3"
I - Instruments you play: keyboard, guitar, harp, recorder, mountain dulcimer
J - Job: Administrative Assistant
K - Kids: 3 lovely grown people
L - Living arrangements: Single, with bunny
M - Music you love: Folk, bluegrass, classic rock, classical, historical
N - Nicknames: 'Apple blossom' (grandmother), Kell (never asked anyone to call me this, they just do, everyone does.)
O - Overnight hospital stay at hospital: preemie, tonsilitis, bone spur, babies
P - Pet Peeve(s): 'Cutesy' Oirish songs (e.g. Danny Boy etc. My birthday is St. Patrick's, can you say shamrocks?); petty bureaucracy whose sole purpose is to perpetuate itself.
Q - Quote from a movie: 'Did it not seem real? Did it not seem like the old days?' -From Ken Burns 'The Civil War' - okay, so it's a dicumentary.
R - Right handed or left: both
S - Siblings: 2 sisters, one deceased
T - Time you wake up: 6 AM
U - Underwear: Vintage
V - Vegetable you dislike: parsnips
W - Workout Style: yoga, gardening, hiking, climbing, English country dance. Not into gyms. Really not.
Y - Yummy food you make: Brit and Southern cuisine comfort food.
X - XRAYS you've had: broken all of my fingers and toes at one time or another (not all at once, DG)
Z - The best place to visit: Switzerland, British Isles. Mountains and forests.

Sned me your answers! I won't share them unless you want me to publish them as a comment

Fascinators

2011-03-09T14:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, clue, people: in the States we call them 'cocktail hats' - hence to be worn during the drinks party hours (roughtly 6-8 PM), therefore NOT at Ascot, a wedding (yours or someone else's), a funeral, etc. And they should be complete on their own, not a little tiny hat - e.g. a topper - with netting because that just makes you look an idiot. Also they should not be a crumpet sized bit of stuff with feathers, etc, because that also makes you look an idiot. Why are you wearing a child's toy on your head? They should be roughly head-sized (think 50s hats that went over the crown) - and may be gaudily trimmed, but DO try to keep the 3 ft feathers to a minimum, darling. Oh, and a splodge of feathers that make you look like a frightened turkey is not better, the Duchess of Cornwall notwithstanding. Just because something is made doesn't mean that it is attractive or in good taste or that one should wear it.

Addendum: It occurs to me that some of the confusion about fascinators is that hair ornaments are often worn in the evening as well. For your evening hair arrangement, take whatever gew-gaws you may have had on your hat or fascinator and stick them on combs, a band or hairpins. Flowers, feathers, beaded or even real jewelled thingies. Well, maybe not all of them. A few. Hair ornaments should not be worn during the day unless you are under five years of age, or a hippie.

Update 21 Apr 11 - My daughter Brigid and I went down to Britex in Union Square in San Francisco (it's actually North of us... is like 'going down to London'?) and when we were on the Trims and Notions floor, she said - with no prompting from me, I assure you - that she 'should make some fascinators'. Now, she's very artistic, with a very good eye. I encouraged her, for I think she could make a bomb (for my non BrE friends, that's a good thing, not an incendiary device.)

The King's Speech, Sartoria, Loungwear and the Disintegration of Civilisation

2011-02-28T19:58:00.000-08:00

I was SO pleased to see The King's Speech (and Colin Firth!) win last night at the Oscars!

Over and over again I return to the Queen Mum as an example of How To Be (Dress) - One of my favourite quotes is from her 'If you're going to play the part, you have to dress the part'. In looking at the often inappropriate range of clothing at this grand event, I was thinking last night on the categories of dress semi formal day, formal day (morning), formal evening, and while there are descriptions galore for men, there are very few for women, unless you look up Emily Post! Finally, in something like despair, I thought 'oh heck! Just wear what Lilibet and the Queen Mum wear/wore!' (You'll notice that Cate Blanchett and Helen Mirren looked wonderful and appropriate. Of course they did; being British ladies.)

I love to remind people that she was not always a podgy 'Grannie', nor even a well-upholstered matron of the Hartnell-Cecil Beaton vintage, but a fetching 'Scottish Lass'.

In looking for some nice '30s piccies of the QM, (see attached) I also found a picture of Hilary (and Chelsea's) hideous fuscia MOB monstrosity (and inappropriate strapless bridal gown). In the Hilary instance - OMG, darling, get a clue. Do not upstage the bride (and DON'T wear white or anything that can be interpreted as white from any distance), dress your age, dress appropriately (it is a ball gown during the day!) and ...just Don't! As for the bride, sleeves, darling. Sleeves. Power dressing consists of the most covered up person having the most power. Showing it all off on your wedding day makes you look tarty, not glam. Take a leaf from the Windsors and their vavoom bosoms - cover it up at the wedding. All of them did, Lilibet, Margaret, Anne. And looked smashing. (And I never thought to say that Anne could look smashing! but I recently saw some period photos in Look or OK! Wow! She looked like Vanessa Redgrave!)

This from Wiki:
The Queen Mother loved clothes, and in her early years was dressed by Lanvin. In Hartnell's hands she always wore the pastels she felt suited her, resembling a bunch of sweet peas, he said, but her
wardrobe lacked the formal elegance of the black cocktail dress. Indeed, her husband, George VI, wanted his wife to be a counterpoint to the brittle, over-dieted fashion plate Wallis Simpson. The King
took Hartnell on a tour of the Royal Collection, showing him paintings of earlier queens to inspire him. The look was to be regal, timeless. Tradition!

Hartnell designed the Queen Mother's entire wardrobe for her 1938 royal tour, a commission of 30 dresses that were to inspire the future couturier, Christian Dior, when he put together the New Look nine years later. To both men the silhouette invented by Chanel - clothes for modern, working women, styles so revolutionary they are wearable today - were hateful. In an interview in 1968 he said, 'I'm sick to death of the saying, "Elegance is utter simplicity." I think it's a hoodwink. Some designers just lack the inventiveness to make it non-simple.'

Couture seldom sets trends, because its point is the fineness of its workmanship. What makes you gasp about Hartnell's clothes, like Dior's, is their dreamy romanticism and their lavish beading. This is what couture really is: the hand-made garment in which every stitch is sewn with the finest thread money can buy. He got his opportunity when he was commissioned to design first Princess Elizabeth's wedding dress, then her coronation outfit. The wedding dress and its train were embroidered with thousands of seed pearls and crystal beads in garlands of lilies and white York roses, but its successor, the coronation dress, is considered to be one of the most lavishly
decorated of the 20th century. 'I thought of lilies, roses, marguerites and golden corn,' Hartnell
wrote in his autobiography. 'I thought of altar clothes and sacred vestments; I thought of the sky, the earth, the sun, the moon, the stars and everything heavenly that might be embroidered on a dress
destined to be historic.' The Queen had requested that it be modelled in its silhouette on her wedding gown, but also wanted the emblems of the United Kingdom - shamrocks and thistles - and all her dominions somehow to be included. It was Hartnell's high watermark. He was not really a designer for the masses, though during the war the clothing firm Berketex had asked him to create a collection of Utility day dresses, as if John Galliano should descend from Paris and make a range for Marks & Spencer Per Una.

Of course she was first dressed by Lanvin! I'm not much for pastels, they don't suit me, I need warmer colours, but the rest, I can go with, having a 'British figure' (i.e. pear-shaped.) The chat about Lilibet's coronation dress made me smile, as it was my inspiration for my daughter Bridgie's confirmation dress.

So I wrote out in minute detail what the gradations of dress mean for LADIES, and have come to the conclusion, the most unfortunate conclusion, that most of what we wear these days is what was called, in the 1900s-1950s sportswear and loungewear - that is, anything that is not formal daytime dress or 'informal' daytime dress. We wear trousers, jeans, cotton dresses, t-shirts, track suits, whatever, which is at the low end of the dress scale.

Ladies
Formal, Morning: day dress - street length dress of fine (silk, rayon, crepe) stuff, possibly with matching coat, pearls, gloves, hat. Church qualifies as formal morning dress, on Sundays, or for weddings or christenings.

Formal, evening: ball gown (full length with or without decolletage), tiara, [expensive heirloom] jewellery, opera length gloves, gold or silver shoes

Informal, Evening: evening dress (long, of fine stuff the fashionable silhouette, with bling) or tunic and wide soft trousers (or evening ethnic dress - if you are ethnic, in a foreign country, or at home), 'cocktail' dress (street length of fine stuff, with bling), jewellery, no tiara, gold, silver, or coloured satin or velvet shoes

Mourning: Family members (unless the deceased specifically requested otherwise)- plain black long-sleeved street length dress of dull not shiny material, hat with a veil, gloves. Pearls allowed or mourning jewellery. Friends- black, dark grey or navy blue plain long-sleeved dress, hat, gloves. Pearls allowed. Note: children under the age of fourteen do not wear black. Girls wear white dresses with black ribbons on the shoulders, and ankle socks or stockings if over the age of ten.

Casual: Afternoon dress (fashionable, with sleeves), pearls, gloves, hat. No matching coat, patterned dress okay.

Business: Afternoon dress (in muted prints okay) or suit (in grey, navy, brown or black), subdued jewellery (earrings, no more than one ring on each hand, wristwatch), pumps

Sportswear: Casual (cotton or wool) trousers, skirts, blouse, jacket, or cardigan, appropriate to sport (tennis, climbing, swimming, etc), cotton dress

Morning wear: cotton dress, jeans, t-shirt or top

Loungewear: jeans, t-shirt or top, cotton dress, wrapper (dressing gown), pyjamas

It occurs to me that this scale ONLY applies to the upper-middle and upper classes. A midling person would wear their 'Sunday best' for dinner invitations, weddings and funerals, without all these gradations and rules.

So that says a lot about a) where my head is; b) my family; for, as a male friend pointed out in looking at some pictures from the 19th C. of my family, 'Your family had money. MY family didn't dress like this.' The contrary had NEVER occurred to me,...

Says she, who owns a fur coat, a tiara and proper evening dress....(and more gloves than you can shake a stick at.)

Some of my US friends may be wondering what, in the scale of things, a man's 'lounge suit' is. Loungewear – from Merriam Webster: informal clothing usually designed to be worn at home First Known Use of LOUNGEWEAR circa 1957 Anyway, this, on 'lounge suits' from Style Forum

Quote:
Originally Posted by maomao1980
dress code for a dinner I'm going to. Does it just mean don't wear a tie?

The modern "business suit" is basically just a lounge suit - worn of course with a tie. It was probably called that because it was originally a casual form of dress for the country and seaside. It was only good for lounging around in. You no more went to work in it back then than you would today wearing a track suit.

Originally the morning coat was just slightly dressier than a lounge suit - but not by much. At least morning dress was accetable for casual city wear. The frock coat was the Victorian equivalent of what
a gentleman wore to a formal job interview during the day. A tail coat was 'full dress' for the evening.

There is this sorry trend today to regarding the lounge suit - the Victorian track suit - as being some sort of 'formal' dress these days. Often it gets substituted for situations that traditionally would have demanded full dress.

Me - I regard it as scarcely more formal than a track suit. And why the heck would you invite guests to wear their normal work clothes to a social event anyway?

Rant over

Because the lounge suit is a "Victorian track suit" an alternative way of wording an invitation to wear them for an event is to announce the dress code as being "informal". From time to time you get people
posting asking how it is that suits can possibly be "informal", but daytime formal wear is still morning dress for daytime events and white tie for evening events.

In summary:

1. Evening formal (full dress in older parlance)= tail coat
2. Daytime formal (full dress)= morning coat
3. Evening semi-formal= dinner jacket ("Tuxedo")
4. Daytime semi-formal= stroller (a lounge suit version of a morning
coat lacking tails)
5. Informal= "Victorian track suit"

Those interested in the history of dress might find it interesting to read my Wikipedia article on frock coats. I wrote 98% of the introduction and first section.

You will see that lounge suits have slowly climbed up the scale of formality in the same way the frock coat did, starting as casual dress and slowly creeping up towards becoming ultra-formal wear. If morning dress is allowed to die out, then the same thing will happen to the Victorian track suit and it too will turn into ultra-formal wear for only the ultra-pretentious.

I know a semi-formal technically calls for black tie, that's why I put quotation marks around semi. The masses wouldn't know a formal from a semi-formal if you drew a flow chart for them, hence the existence of this thread. (Note: Okay, someone already defended me, sorry for this).

Quote:
If in doubt, wear a tie. You can always take it off and slip it in to your pocket. Just judge
the mood when you arrive.

You didn't just counsel a fellow member to take off his tie at an event while he's wearing a suit, did you? O tempora, o mores. You show up with a tie, you leave with a tie. Period. That or turn in your SF
membership.

This is the male equivalent of showing up at home with your stockings in your handbag - very bad indeed. Only a tarty sort would do that. This of course presumes that modern femmes wear stockings, which seems to be a rarity in itself.... 'Arrive at home with your knickers in your handbag...' would today convey the same (Don't Do This!) message....

Radical Homemakers: Reclaiming Domesticity from a Consumer Culture

2011-02-09T15:38:00.000-08:00

Rush out NOW and read this book.
EVERYTHING that Shannon advocates for in Radical Homemakers is what I've been about since I was 14 years old. Everything. It is downright amusing that a radical sociology book about taking back the home can make me CRY. But it does.

I feel validated for everything I have ever believed and striven for. And she describes the three stages of the process, and I can agree with her conclusion that if one spends too long in Step Two that one becomes subject to the kind of depression and futility that Betty Friedan wrote so passionately against.

She also argues against the wife-mother as chauffeur car culture that arose after the Second World War - which was totally foisted on us by the corporations. We are not here to drive our children from this and that or to buy this or that for the husband and 'the house'! That is not our role in life! But we have been pressurised into that role. Unless we rebel...

=) Here's to rebellion! and making a real home.

Viz:
Renouncing: increasingly aware of the illusory happiness of a consumer society. Recognise and question the compulsion to purchase goods and services that they feel they could provide for themselves 'if only...'

Reclaiming: Recovering many skills that enable one to build a life without a conventional income. This phase can take a few years or a lifetime and will perpetually be returned to as one builds ever more skills. If dwelt only in this phase for too long begin to manifest symptoms of Friedan's housewife's syndrome - 'what's all this for?'

Rebuilding: Take on genuine creative challenges, engagement with community, make significant contributions toward rebuilding a new society that reflects one's vision of a better world, through artwork, writing, farming, fine craftwork, social reform, activism, teaching, or a small business.

'The choice to become homemakers is not an act of submission or family servitude. It is an act of social transformation.... it is time we come to think of our hoes as living systems. Like sourdough starter, the home's survival requires constant attention. A true home pulses with nonhuman life - vegetable patches, yeast, backyard hens, blueberry bushes, culturing yoghurt, fermenting wine and sauerkraut, brewing beer, milk goats, cats, dogs, houseplants, kids' science projects, pet snakes and strawberry patches...'

Commodious

2011-02-01T16:31:00.000-08:00

So my latest foray into permaculture has been very literal: DIY composting toilets. Being dismayed at commercial ones costing thousands of dollars, I as others have thought 'there has to be a better way!' Enter the good people from Humanure, who have simple commodes (and bin liners for the squeamish) and while other sites have DIY set ups that are like what you would see in old outhouses, except with the 5-gallon bucket beneath, and no smell!

These function with the simple expedient of adding a scoop of sawdust or similar fine organic matter over all. No water is necessary. When the bucket is 1/2- 2/3 full, you take it to your compost bin, make a little well in the compost, add the material, cover. Clean out the bucket with some white vinegar and a little soap. You can used the same kind of brush you would use with a toilet, a scrub brush or whatever works.

Easy peasy.

Now some of you might be grossed out by this, as with the boiling laundry idea, but it is really quite sanitary and odourless (unlike boiling men's dirty socks) and completely natural. If the simple processes are followed, and common cleanliness is observed (that means wash your hands and clean the seat and lid as you would any toilet) nature will do the rest with the waste matter, without disease, flies or other vermin.

Much cleaner and less bother than a traditional outhouse!

Hunny

2010-10-12T19:25:00.000-07:00

You can lighten your hair with honey water instead of bleach or Sun in.

2 TB honey to 12 TB room temp (distilled) water, let it sit for an hour. Glop on hair, cover with clngfilm or shower cap and towel for at least an hour.

I have used this to lighten up a henna application or even out demarcations. It has no ill effects on your hair ( au contraire, it conditions!) and can be used as often as you wish. It takes a couple of applications -2-3 to get a dramatic result. After 5-6, the result is really dramatic, but always soft and natural with no brassiness. Most people use it to take out a henna that has gone too deep (too many whole head applications) or for a summer fling.

A few helpful things to know, which may be obvious to you but which I really didn't think about:

This is sticky
and messy
and drippy

so you really need that towel covering, and another for your neck
forget clingfilm; a plastic bag or shower cap is necessary
And if you add cinnamon - which is supposed to boost it - did you know cinnamon creates hydrogen peroxide? - make sure you're not allergic.
How do you know if you're allergic? You add cinnamon EO or powder to your (daughter's) henna and it burns your (her) scalp. Oops! How else to know? She's not allergic to eating it!

Forget spray bottles they just clog up, (especially when using cinnamon)
The best way is to do like an old fashioned chamomile rinse (or nettle or whatever your granny used) - just like washing your hair from a pitcher and bowl -keep pouring the stuff over your head (with a small container- or pitcher) and let it fall into the bowl. Repeat til hair is saturated.

What? Your assorted country relatives did not have errant pitchers and bowls lying about for your use in the back-to-nature 70s? (Complete with charming pictures of modern girls in Edwardian underwear washing their hair with grandma's soap and rinsing with chamomile) You had relatives who had some other form of indoor plumbing? Don't know whether to pity or congratulate you.

Anyway, keep pouring till the hair is saturated, wind your hair into a knot on the top of your head and grab that shower cap. Hurry with the towel(s) too. And delight your family by announcing (in a rather sticky voice) that it's done.

Clean the lav. Don't want to draw ants. Well you've got an hour, might as well do something productive....

Seriously, I've done this before - without the cinnamon - using a different (earlier) dilution and a spray bottle and it was drippy but not quite such an adventure. THIS practically cries out that one read the Foxfire books to while away the time.

Unmentionable Obsession

2010-10-09T18:55:00.000-07:00

The following is from an article on corsetiere.net that answers many questions about 'unmentionables' - like why adverts had the knickers (and chemises for that matter - as the world can see in my FB profile pic) - underneath the corset/girdle which nobody did; when panty girdles were invented (1935), the creaking of corsetry (it's not just me!) and other such tidbits.

1) Were girdles regarded positively by most women or seen as something necessary but unwelcome?

The girdle, which became worn by younger women in the late 1920’s, really became popular in the post-War era as the development of reliable elastic materials, and latterly Lycra by DuPont, allowed for a supporting garment other than a corset. For the vast majority of women until the late 1960’s, there was no alternative to a foundation garment, which by then implied a girdle. Corset wearers were already a small percentage of this population.

The girdle was neither positively nor negatively regarded, it was just worn; it was a ’way of life’. Certainly, some women would rather have died than been seen un-girdled and whether the girdle was tight, effective, pretty or just plain badly fitting and uncomfortable; it would be worn, whatever. A woman will suffer agonies for her looks.

The typical point of view would be that the girdle was positively regarded because it enhanced (really or in the imagination) the wearer’s looks. After 18 hours (despite Playtex’s claims) most women would have regarded their foundations as both unnecessary and unwelcome.

In Herman Wouk’s ‘The Winds of War’, there’s an interesting comment as the hero ‘Pug Henry’ observes his wife dress for dinner. “..I'm bulging a foot. I look six months' pregnant and I’m wearing my tightest girdle. What shall I do?” cries his wife. Pug can see no difference from normal but wisely avoids interjecting. If a woman feels she is bulging, then in her mind she is. No lady in the 1940’s, when the novel was written, would have dined without a girdle.

2) Were girdles generally worn for the entire day or only for going out?

Girdles were worn all day, from getting dressed to go out, say to work or do the shopping, and they wouldn’t be removed until going to bed which might be 14 – 16 hours later. Special girdles, meaning more expensive and tighter (because of less frequent wearing) might be worn for a party, a special dinner or wedding. However, the regular girdle would normally be worn all the time. By the end of the 1960’s (in Britain), the girdle for the younger generation would indeed become an object worn only for something special.

3) Would girdles have been considered mandatory under pencil skirts of the early to mid 1960's?

Definitely! The pencil skirt, or any fitted garment looks far better when fitted over a foundation. Until the late 1960’s most well-dressed women understood that their bodies fluctuated in shape depending on many influences. Well-fitted clothes were fitted to the figure confined by its foundations which limited such fluctuations. The corset was, of course, the ultimate foundation, but clothes in general hung so much better on a figure correctly girdled. As Jane Russell (in her 60’s) breathed candidly to a reporter, the secret to maintaining her good figure was “underwear”.

4) What distinguished light/ medium/ firm control girdles and at what point/age did women generally move into firm control girdles?

The levels of control have decreased through the years. In the 1970’s, a woman born at the turn of the century would probably have retained her corsets or a firm control girdle, however, that girdle would be beyond anything marketed today. In the 1950’s, a firm control girdle would be similar to a corset without the lacing. One of the strongest girdles of the 1960’s, yet best designed, comfortable and remarkably glamorous in appearance was the Marks and Spencer all satin-elastic girdle. This girdle was a design based on the Dior girdle of the late1940’s and would have been described as medium/firm control at the time but by today’s standards such levels of firmness no longer exist outside the traditional corset.

This brings us to the item referred to as the ‘roll-on’. This un-boned girdle has its origins pre-War, however, it was a softer post-War variation of the standard boned girdles, so part of their Mothers’ life, that daughters adopted in the 1960’s. Tights had not yet caught on and a girdle, if nothing else, was required to hold ones stockings up. In Britain in the 1960’s, a light control girdle would have implied a roll-on (see next article).

The invention of tights (UK), panty-hose (USA) probably have far more of an influence on the girdled woman than is commonly realised. At the turn of the last century, the corset was a shape-maker and incidentally, it provided a position from which to support the stockings by means of suspenders (UK), garters (USA). When the corset was replaced by the girdle, the function of the garment as the only support for the stockings was still highly important. With the invention of inexpensive tights (UK; late 1960’s, USA early 1960’s), suspenders became unnecessary and thus so did the conventional girdle. Panty-girdles afforded the support that would ultimately become nothing more than the elasticated underpants that girdles have become today. For more than a decade, panty-girdles carried suspenders (either internally within the long legs or externally if shorter legged) almost as a comfort to those woman who disliked tights, however, latterly it became a sort of throw-back to a dying era in the same way that the traditional bow of material in the standard brassiere represents the lacing of the corset.

So firm and light control definitions have varied through the decades as has the age when women might wear them. In the early 1960’s, a woman in her early 20’s would wear a medium control girdle as standard and firm control for special occasions.

5) "My girdle is killing me!" is the typical anti-girdle comment. In practice, how comfortable was a properly fitted girdle? Was the wearer always aware of wearing it, or did you just forget about about it during the day?

"My girdle is killing me!" was not so much of an anti-girdle comment. It was a very feminine expression handed down from mother to daughter at the end of a long day when the desire to look one’s best was being over-ridden by the constriction of the garment. This was not an everyday girdle; this would be the girdle for that ‘special occasion’, and because it was rarely worn, it would indeed be uncomfortable after a day’s wearing.

A properly fitted girdle is very comfortable, however, even the best will make their presence felt at the end of a long, hard day. It is very similar to a good pair of shoes.

Roll-ons, Step-ins and Belts

According to Elizabeth Ewing (Dress and Undress), BT Batsford Ltd, London 1978: "The most notable immediate result of the process of extruding rubber elastic was the introduction of the 'roll-on', the most famous corset of its time, with the additional distinction of having added a word to the English language, as well as a new item to the history of underwear. The first roll-on dates from 1932 in Britain and probably a year earlier in the USA. It replaced the hook-side or busk-fastening corset for the younger and lighter figures, and for many more too, so great was its comfort. It dominated the 'light control' market for many years. If you belonged to that market you didn't talk of a corset anymore; you said a 'roll-on' and got rid of what was already an unpopular word."

The panty-girdle was introduced in 1934, and was very popular in 1935. My reading suggests by the mid-50s it had largely displaced the roll-on in the USA, though I gather it never achieved the same popularity in the UK. I think that by then all the prewar roll-on wearers would have graduated to something heavier in the USA, while the new generation went straight into panty-girdles.

In the Fifties I don't think girdle wearing was as universal in Australia (and even in England) as it was in the States, and I think Australian girls were somewhat slower to switch to panty-girdles than American girls.

The term 'Roll-on' also served a euphemistic purpose as a letter from Dene suggests:-

At a time when any mention of ladies underwear in mixed company, was very questionable, this term could provide an allowable and slightly light-hearted solution. I heard an older lady saying “At my age I need something more than a roll-on.” Again on expressing my amazement at the change in appearance of a lady acquaintance, I was told “Yes, but that time she was wearing her roll-on”. Finally, there was the amazement of a boy friend to be told “Sorry, but I can’t hurry as I have a new roll-on“, to be followed remarkably soon afterwards by “I have to go shopping on Saturday, I need a new roll-on.”

Whether the euphemism was used through coyness or guile, the woman wishing to understate the power of the foundation that she actually wore, I do not know.

'Step-in' seems to be an expression like 'roll-on' which never achieved the same popularity. It referred to the standard girdle or pantie-girdle that could be donned without lacing, zips or hooks. It is mentioned in Tom Sharpe's humorously anarchic book 'Indecent Exposure'. The girdle in question, however, has been borrowed by a man from his wife, which moves us towards the topic of 'the Other Side of Corsetry' . In Mr. Sharpe's book, the Major's wife's step-ins are also referred to as corsets and as a girdle in successive paragraphs.
As for 'belts', this seems to be another euphemism, that developed in the 1940's and 1950's, to divert the client's attention from the fact that they might be buying or even needed to wear, a girdle.

By 1965, Twilfit had dropped the 'girdle' word entirely from their catalogue unless the construction of zips, bones and hooks demands that one 'bites the bullet' and admits that, indeed, this is a girdle and nothing you can call it will persuade one otherwise. The Twilfit catalogue only mentions the 'girdle' word when it becomes a hook-side model. At the end of the catalogue, Twilfit's usual selection of corsets are called corsets. After all, it was the younger clients that needed convincing, not the older ladies that had been wearing corsets for many decades.The term 'belt', even as early as 1965 in the halcyon days of girdle sales, reveals that the marketing department had a feeling that sales of foundation garments to the younger generation needed a new image, and the girdle was not part of that image.

By today's standards, this Twilfit girdle would hardly be described as a light garment worthy of the 'belt' appellation.

Spencer was far more specific. Their 'belt' was a six buckle corset designed to return the post-natal abdomen to its former proportions.

One interesting consequence of the 'roll-on' was due to its mode of removal. Let me explain. The classic zippered girdle often had an un-zippered equivalent, very flexibly boned at the back and sides (left M&S - 1979). The only effective way to remove this garment without stretching the elastic was to roll the top down against the tendency of the bones to remain straight. As the bones folded over, the top of the garment would invert, and then be quite easy to pull down. Like all M&S garments, these girdles would last for years, and turn up like new with regularly washing (that’s why so many appear in the auctions today). The only give-away sign of this regular inverted removal would be a tendency of the bones to become concave with the girdle in repose. This is clearly evident on the girdle shown. The Berlei Gay Slant was notorious for this, however, it did not diminish the power of these classic foundation garments. Even zippered garments, if rolled-off, would display this permanent set of the waist bones (right - USA 1972).

My ballet pink cotton 1930s number from Sears has arrived! It's very complicated with a busk and skirt hooks in the front, and enclosed lacing at the back - very ingenious! No loose ends! Breaking it in last evening and today I wore it with my bell-bottoms on errands. Haven't looked like this since I was 12!

My panty-girdle pattern arrived as well, so I'm going to order some extra-firm powernet and satin for that and making an all in one, and for the back of the strapless longline bra (all dyed ballet pink of course.) I have become as obsessed with underwear as Janie Bryant - the costumer for Mad Men. I now look at girdles and corselettes and say 'Oh that's a Spirella' or 'a Rago'.... It's like knowing wineries.

I think of my mother-in-law, a stout lady who nevertheless always had a gorgeous figure and looked marvelous, because she wore this sort of thing. I think too of Jane Russell, who when asked in late middle age about the secret to her lovely figure, said 'underwear.' And Princess Diana. Later in her life when she was once more no longer a stick figure (and people seemed to have forgotten that she was once a healthy English girl) her dressmaker was asked if that was all really HRH in that dress. He said 'yes, but she has some help in the structure of the garment.'

Now I look at women out in the world and think 'Poor thing, she would look so smashing if she had proper foundations.'

Here's to structure!

Paris Frocks at Home

2010-10-04T13:16:00.000-07:00

from Vintage Sewing Info

1930—Paris Frocks at Home
Lesson XI—Keeping Paris Frocks Up-to-Date

Make a Parisian wardrobe from your good American dresses.

As each new season approaches you will want to survey the possibilities of the clothes you have on hand. It seems a pity to discard a favorite frock. We would suggest that you hold over promising frocks to study what can be done to make them conform to the new season's fashions.

It does take ingenuity to modernize one's old clothes successfully. Don't tackle the problem alone. Consult the Butterick publications, Delineator and Butterick Quarterly. In every issue you will find suggestions that can be applied to your frocks to bring out-moded garments up-to-date.

Last season's frocks can look like a million dollars.

As long as it is the fashion to combine two materials in one costume, remodeling is easy. The idea is this. Select a smart pattern combining two fabrics. Use your old frock for the part that takes the most material and then buy a little new material for the rest.

Figured materials combined with plain of a harmonizing color are stunning in wool, silk or cotton. To contrast textures in matching colors is another smart trick, and there is little danger of producing lines which cut the figure in an unbecoming place. Combine wool with silk, crepe and velvet with chiffon, or georgette, chiffons with lace or tulle and cottons with batiste, handkerchief linen or voile.

Tunics and angel sleeves.

Last year's afternoon frock that is too short for this year of grace can be dropped low from a yoke of lace to make a stunning Sunday night frock with angel sleeves. The vogue for tunics is a blessing to those of us who have hoarded knee-length frocks. Skirts that seemed a total loss can now be lowered to decent length on bodice tops and combined with a new tunic blouse of lame or satin, or you can reverse the English and make a knee-length tunic of a too short frock, combining it with a new skirt. (Ill. 154.)
You can make an ankle-length dance frock by cutting off last year's dipping hemline evenly below the knees and adding an 18" band of tulle.

Reclaim worn sleeves.

So often sleeves wear out before their time. Butterick has prepared special patterns to replace them.
If a sleeve is worn at the elbow, cut it off here and combine it with lace or chiffon (Ill. 155), or add a flare below the elbow (Ill. 156). If it requires a whole new sleeve, give it dolman sleeves of contrasting fabric in matching color—chiffon sleeves for a velvet frock or velvet sleeves for a crepe frock.

The lingerie touch.

It is surprising how much a fresh lingerie touch in the form of a bow or a collar will do to modernize last season's dress. The Deltor is full of unusual suggestions for making the little collars and cuffs, bindings and chic lingerie bows that look so casual and so truly French.

The mannequins on this page show two smart versions of the lingerie bow. Cut a straight strip of organdie, voile or batiste. Roll and whip or make a narrow hem around the four edges. You may have them picoted if you wish but hand work on lingerie details is always more desirable. Now make two bound vertical slits on the front of your blouse and gather your hemmed strip through the center and thread it through the slits. (Illustration 158.)

The French bow knot.

This same type of strip may be tied in a soft knot and used at the point of a V neckline with a collar of similar material tucked at the neckline to fit around the curve at the back of the neck and over the shoulder. (Illustration 157.)

Fresh touches for little girls' dresses.

The Deltor will show you how to cut a shaped facing for the neckline of a child's dress with ends to cross in front, and how to stitch it to the inside of the neckline and fold it over to the outside. The ends of the little tabs are turned in and the right tab is lapped over the left one and the whole stitched down.

Illlustration 160 varies this by lining the two ends of the facing and making a bound buttonhole in each tab. The tabs are not stitched down to the frock but are buttoned down with buttons sewed on each side of the center front.

There are many clever little touches that you can add to the necklines of last year's frocks and jackets that will make a youngster's eyes sparkle. Illustration 161 shows two little buckles posed each side of a neck with a band threaded through them. This doubled band is stitched down across the back to form the tailored collar.

Sport clothes demand tailored necklines.

An effective use of the straight tie for blouses is shown in illustration 163.
Do this to any old blouse.

Make your tie, double and cut the ends slanting. Slip the tie over the neckline and draw the ends out through two horizontal bound slashes and loop or tie in a bow.

You'll see this finish on many smart frocks.

A shaped facing applied to the neckline of a sports blouse is often used with a little suggestion of fullness at the center front over which is tacked a softly made knot. (Illustration 164.) Stitch the right side of your facing to the inside of the blouse. Turn it toward the outside, gather the center front of the facing and draw it up slightly. Baste and stitch the turned-in edges of the facing down to your blouse. Make a knot, tack at the center front, and stitch the turned in edges of the ends down to your blouse.

Occasionally the ends of the facing are cut long enough to make the knot in one with the facing. The Deltor will show you how to do this.

Capes and bertha collars are rejuvenating.

Have you ever considered removing the sleeves from your last season's dress and adding a capelet at the armhole or a cape collar or a bertha at the neckline? One of the most successful Sunday supper frocks of the season is an inspiration for just this treatment. Full capelets of net are set into the armholes of a black satin frock, a net yoke fills in the neck and the hem is transparent net for at least 13 inches.

The Deltors of new Butterick patterns will show you how to cut and apply these touches to your old frocks. Patterns Nos. 2996 and 3004 were the source for the good looking capelet collar on this page and the smart bertha on the next. The little tie, in both cases, adds a soft flattering touch at the point of the V. These collars and berthas are particularly good in chiffon, georgette or soft silk crape.

Butterfly bows are effective.

If you like a perky touch, try a butterfly bow at the joining of your bertha collar in the front. Illustration 168 shows you how to make it, gathering it through the center. It may be inserted through two vertical slashes or shaped in a double bow and tacked at the center front as shown in illustration 169. The tie should be cut as in illustration 165, slightly shaped through the center, and made with a rolled hem.

For true economy.

All these little remodeling tricks are only economy when your material is really worth wearing some more. If it was inexpensive to start with or is badly worn, it is no economy to make it over. But, a good frock that merely suffers from a change of style should by all means be salvaged. There is every hope in the world for its living a long and useful life if you make use of the help offered by the Butterick fashion service.

Ladies of a Certain Vintage

2010-10-03T17:04:00.000-07:00

Recently, in a fit of middle-aged frustration, I bought a vintage open-bottom girdle. How vintage? Almost as old as my mother, who was born not long after the US entered the Second War. I got it because I was depressed by the fact that while my weight hasn't really changed since my daughter Bridgie was born - over 20 years ago - things are shall we say, re-arranging themselves, especially since the climacteric has begun in earnest. And alas, my lovely Edwardian corset is creaky and does not allow me to wear knits. Hence the girdle. I looked, sceptically, at 'shapewear' in the better shops and decided it couldn't do the job, which a perusal of others' opinions on the 'net confirmed. Spanx just can't cut it.

There are all sorts of emotions attached to this sort of contraption - wildly varying emotions, rather like the climacteric: from weepy nostalgia for my elegant mother, to a lingering hippie disgust because I never thought that I of all people would wear such a thing (and before having children never needed it as I had a stick figure), to a certain unmentionable delight in the sheer Old Hollywood seductiveness of it.

So I put it on, a feat in itself, worthy of corsetry (to which I am well-used). A few adjustments later - it was too large in the waist - and... vavoom baby! Oh I was hooked. Hooked zipped and sunk for life. What else do you say when it looks marvelous and feels splendid? I rushed to put on a vintage 1940s knit dress. Glory Hallelujah! It was smashing. The kind of look that makes you want to rush to put on stockings and scarlet lipstick.

What I found over the next few days of breaking it in is that I missed it when I wasn't wearing it. The hippie child who used not to wear brassieres (because I really didn't need to) had become a fully fledged pin up girl. Eek!

I found myself thinking, Obviously, since I can't wear this with jeans (or even trousers) on the rare occasions I wear them, what do I do? Enter the search and find mission for a vintage panty girdle pattern (which I found, on Etsy, circa 1970) and a vintage pink cotton girdle - from Sears & Roebuck! - from the late 1940s.

I then searched for the heavy duty powernet to make the panty girdle (and discovered how many men were mad about them, go figure!) and in the midst of all this thought - well, while I'm at it, why don't I make some nice vintage bras too? So got an old Kwik Sew pattern on Etsy.

It has become an obsession, this vintage undies thing, and I spent the day researching and drawing exactly what I wanted, from Victorian to 70's boho. The one decade I gave a miss was the 40s as the difference between it and the 30s wasn't so great as to warrant it. Now I have several sketchbook pages of designs I like that will suit my figure, wardrobe and taste. No underwire! No elastic straps! No 'wardrobe malfunction' balconets!

In the old days a lady tended to have a signature colour for lingerie. Mine is ballet pink with ecru lace. I plan to do everything in this, in rayon, charmeuse, or batiste, as applicable. The whole show: bras, knickers, chemises, nightgowns, peignoirs. The one thing I can't make is stockings, so Berkshire is safe.

To be beautiful and elegant in and under clothes, with comfort and modesty. That's not a bad how do you do for a moment of hormonal despair.

Art Nouveau Hair

2010-09-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

The new hairstyle, not quite as messy as this but the general idea.

Surprise! An Audrey

2010-09-21T13:40:00.000-07:00

Wow, the "Are you a Jackie or a Marilyn" quiz said I am an Audrey (Hepburn of course) I'm over the moon.
This is also very true!

You Are an Audrey!
You are an Audrey -- "I am at peace"

Audreys are receptive, good-natured, and supportive. They seek union with others and the world around them.

How to Get Along with Me

* If you want me to do something, how you ask is important. I especially don't like expectations or pressure

* I like to listen and to be of service, but don't take advantage of this

* Listen until I finish speaking, even though I meander a bit

* Give me time to finish things and make decisions. It's OK to nudge me gently and nonjudgmentally

* Ask me questions to help me get clear

* Tell me when you like how I look. I'm not averse to flattery

* Hug me, show physical affection. It opens me up to my feelings

* I like a good discussion but not a confrontation

* Let me know you like what I've done or said

* Laugh with me and share in my enjoyment of life

What I Like About Being an Audrey

* being nonjudgmental and accepting

* caring for and being concerned about others

* being able to relax and have a good time

* knowing that most people enjoy my company; I'm easy to be around

* my ability to see many different sides of an issue and to be a good mediator and facilitator

* my heightened awareness of sensations, aesthetics, and the here and now

* being able to go with the flow and feel one with the universe

What's Hard About Being an Audrey

* being judged and misunderstood for being placid and/or indecisive

* being critical of myself for lacking initiative and discipline

* being too sensitive to criticism; taking every raised eyebrow and twitch of the mouth personally

* being confused about what I really want

* caring too much about what others will think of me

* not being listened to or taken seriously

Audreys as Children Often

* feel ignored and that their wants, opinions, and feelings are unimportant

* tune out a lot, especially when others argue

* are "good" children: deny anger or keep it to themselves

Audreys as Parents

* are supportive, kind, and warm

* are sometimes overly permissive or nondirective

Upcoming Events

2010-09-21T12:44:00.000-07:00

At last online again after an unfortunate hiatus - I was ill and had to give up all of my extra-curriculars and get myself well.

The latest projects have been - a black and silver jacket (lined in apple green satin!) for daughter Bridgie, 'elvish' curtains (with a Morris type leaf print) for son Gawain, and part of a superhero costume, also for Gawain (a red fringed stretch velvet rebozo with a tear-drop motif). I did make a fabulous patchwork version of the Bolivian Milkmaid's jacket from Folkwear in blues greens and purples - with a pieced kaleidoscope on the back and beading on the front. I am in the middle of making a 'Marie Aen' bunad for myself - the dress is done, I just need to do the embroidery. My Vikings are from Skuterud, a tiny farming hamlet northeast of Oslo, and this is one of the Hedmark bunads from that region, bottle green wool with bright green trim and cream coloured piping. The embroidery is in corals and green. I'm not vain at all...

Upcoming I have a green and gold long jacket for Bridgie (lined in teracotta), and a charcoal grey 1930s tulip skirt for myself, from leftovers of a skirt Bridgie made for herself. I was very impressed at her first sewing attempt, zip and all. It was a simple pencil skirt, but with a cute seaming in front, well done.

I have a new pattern for a panel skirt (read' hippie skirt') that I can put up on my Etsy shop, along with early Gunne Sax style dresses, for women, girls and dolls (yes I bought an old Holly Hobbie pattern to do the dolls.) I also got a bunch of hippie casual clothes and baby patterns at a $1 sale, so that should keep me busy for ten minutes or so.

Because of a crop of babies at work and elsewhere it occurred to me that I should have a stash of little frocks and baby carriers, both to give as gifts and to sell on Etsy. I searched all over 'good' department stores for a white frilly dress for a wee baby, and found nothing outside of christening gowns. Every baby needs a little white dress. My daughter had several, but I'm saving those for grandchildren, whenever they happen to come around. As to the baby carriers, I have made up several patterns for slings, rebozo and maitai types, in assorted patterns for the funky to sophisticated parent.

For myself, I just missed out on having to make a girdle - I managed to find one on eBay from 1949. Now I don't creak, as I did with my 1910s corset, and can bend. And still have that lovely wiggle. I may make a 'ballet pink' cotton and lycra girdle some time for the heck of it, but it's no longer a necessity. Look out 'Mad Men'! (and I am a Jackie, not a Marilyn, for those keeping score.)

I do have a plan to make a wearable version of my mother's wedding suit, one of those early '60s waisted 'wiggle dresses' with a waist length jacket and three-quarter length sleeves. Very chic. My mother's ivory faille beauty fit me before I had babies, many hip sizes ago. It was amazing, with bound seams and organdy lining. No one in my family will be wearing this again! Bridgie is much too tall and it's not her style anyway. So the reproduction can be for a ladies' lunch or some other semi-formal daytime occasion. Do people still do semi-formal day wear? Does anyone know what this is?

So I have divided my wardrobe into work (chic, vintagey, and tailored) and play (folky, hippie, vintage, and kitsch) and am quote happy with the result. It does make a difference in how one is treated at work to dress up a bit more, unless you're a dispatcher or nurse, but it drove me spare to have plain things in the time I did only that. My soul was crying out for colour, pattern, texture, flowers, embroidery, beads. Now I have the best of both worlds. My play clothes work well when out at English country dancing or down on the suburban farm, and I have a literal and clear demarcation of one part of my life from another, so long as that is necessary.

Broderie Perse

2009-08-23T18:57:00.000-07:00

Okay, so no trousers piccies today - I finished my dress form, and have been doing homestead things like making nondairy cheese, the laundry and the garden, and cutting out motifs from fabric for broderie perse handkerchiefs. It is very interesting to look at fabric in terms of motifs rather than as a whole, either for colour or drape as in quilting or dressmaking.

I decided to make handkerchiefs first rather than the barettes becasue it was faster, and I can sell them three to a batch.

Broderie Perse is an old quitling applique technique from the days when chintzes were even more expensive and rare than they are now, and so the individual motifs were cut out, glued on, and then stitched with a tiny whip stitch in a matching colour. Usually, these were centre medallions on whole cloth quilts, or later, centres on medallion quilts (not the same thing - confusion!) but since the craft has been revived, the technique has been used in other ways. Using it to make 'old-fashioned' flowery hankies is definitely a non traditional way! But it came to me one night several months ago as I was falling asleep. Nowadays, there are all kinds of fusible webs and adhesives apart from glue, and often motfis are not stitched, but 'I want to do it the old fashioned way.' And as I don't have a zig-zag on my antique sewing machine, they WILL be hand stitched. Fiddly? A bit. Unnecessary? Probably. But it keeps the old craft alive in its traditional method.

Arts and Crafts handbags and other news

2009-08-22T21:26:00.000-07:00

The handbags are done and on etsy! (click on the title link.)

Making them up only took one day; it was the embroidery that took time.
But I am very pleased with them. Reproductions but with a sunny mordern flair.

The black trousers are also done, but it is too late to post photos of them. More tomorrow. Next on the docket - some ribbon flower and beaded barrettes, for all those Ren faire and Pre-Raphaelite maidens.

In the Family Way

2009-08-12T11:25:00.001-07:00

The handbags are coming along for the etsy shop - I will post pictures when they are done - and when we went to get the lining fabric, my daughter Brigid said of the green one, half-finished, that she 'liked the green and pink' - the pink being the transfer pencil. So I told her I would make her one in green and pink. Corrupting the young!

Further to that end, my eldest, Percival, came by for some henna for tatoos for visiting Italian friends (girls) and said that he and his roomate, a bloke, have decided to buy a couple of acres up in Calaveras, where they were hiking this last weekend, and put up a couple of houses from 'ship cargo containers', grow their own food, and so on. He liked the idea because it was 'close enough to the city, but not too close.' This is the same young man who is studying to be a professor - Sac State or Davis would be well within reach. He is also the same young man who said, not entirely joking, 'I was raised by hippies - I hate white bread.' Um, that would be me. The houses are very eco friendly, easy and cheap to build, modular and easy to remodel. The whole garden idea just thrills me down to my toes. for I have a victory garden myself.

It made me so happy that the tenets with which he was insidiously instilled as a young child - with homemade baby food, cloth nappies and co-sleeping - took root and are sprouting in this way. Yes, he is a technogeek and has an iPhone, but he also has read ALL of Tolkien and speaks dead languages. When he and his sister and brother have a health or first aid problem, they always ring up Ma and ask first what natural remedies there are, without question. Ah, children, raised on homemade tinctures!

And I think to myself 'what a wonderful world'....

Brother Rabbit

2009-08-02T18:18:00.000-07:00

After three years and some despair that I would ever be well enough or have funds enough again to have my little offerings of needlework and herb-craft, Brother Rabbit is now an e-shop again, now on etsy. This is a triumph to me, and signal of my health and overall well-being.

The name comes from a textile pattern of Morris’ –Brer Rabbit – which in turn comes from the folktale in the Uncle Remus stories Morris read to his daughters. Some have said that Brer Rabbit represents the joyousness in struggle, and the potential for the victory of the less apparently powerful over the dominant. Brother Rabbit signifies this, but also our oneness with each other, our necessary deep connection with nature, and the tradition of the mediaeval guilds in modern times.

‘Have nothing in your homes that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.’

So said the master, William Morris; an imperfect human, but a vibrant avatar in so many arenas of life. I believe sincerely that our lives can be filled with beauty, joy, and deep satisfaction, and that we do not have to be endless, mindless consumers at the mercy of the multinational corporations to do so.

Beginning with the simple tenet above – that we deserve to be surrounded by genuine beauty and graceful utility – I take the notion that we are the master craftsmen of our own existence into every arena of life: learning and teaching old skills and new; sharing histories – personal and cultural – and lifeways, our own acquired wisdom and whimsy; making our own fun, with stories and music at evening gatherings; steeping ourselves in the bounty and wisdom of nature through direct experience and observation. We thus become once more a part of the human family, the great dance through time, connected to each other and to Source.

Brother Rabbit is not merely an enterprise, designed to make money; it is a resource, a network, a lifeway, a philosophy of beingness. It is a vehicle for connection and transformation. Brother Rabbit escaped the Tar Baby by hiding away in the briar patch, finding peace and freedom; may we also find our own great happiness in the network of the Briarpatch. My life as a craftswoman is a vehicle to a deeper happiness.

The first items on offer go up next week - a series of reproduction Arts and Crafts handbags.

Blessings!

Lehman's

2009-05-10T20:43:00.001-07:00

For those of you interested, Lehman's is the mother of all self-sufficiency supliers. They have a mail order catalogue as well as this site

http://www.lehmans.com/

Boiling Clothes (Deux) and other Cloth Matters

2009-05-10T19:37:00.000-07:00

Despite what some people advocate, you can boil any type of fabric (not just white cottons) and it will get them clean clean clean. You know that 'grey tinge' that develops after a while? Well, despite what detergent manufacturers used to like to tell us (I am dating myself here) - it is not from soap. It is dirt. Even when you have washed the item sixteen times in the machine and it is 'clean' It is dirt. It may be something to do with hard water (in which case add baking soda or borax) but a great part of the problem is that the washing machine cannot get water hot enough for long enough to remove stains and embedded dirt, especually if you've tured down your water heater to save on your gas bill.

This surety of insight came about because after mucking about in the garden yesterday, my brassiere had grass stains soaked through. It also had a grey back, so I decided to boil it. It is now pale pink again. The same goes for the vintage slip I had pretty much abandoned wearing (even though it has a lovely chiffon hem and bodice) because it had a grey cast, especially in the back. It too is now pale pink again.

Perhaps this is TMI, but hold onto your hat because there's more:

On several of the earth crunchy fora I subscribe to, there has been talk of using not only 'mama cloths' but cloth wipes for the toilet. I had written about thisin a hippy novel I wrote, wherein they lived in the woods, but do it in suburbia? Well, I washed cloth nappies for all three of my kids for two years each, and have used 'mama cloths' myself, so why not? We live in an area (with redwood, pine cedar and eucalyptus trees) that has a tendency to clogged plumbing due to the roots growing into the pipes, so any less stress on the plumbing is a good idea. And, if you prefer, but cannot afford a bidet, a per bottle works great and is chearp-cuts down on the ooky factor so those bothered by such things.

Bung it all in a covered pail with some water and borax, just like nappy days, and wash with your weekly wash loads.

Next on the docket: a tin tub, a hand agitator and a mangle.

The Right Trousers

2009-04-06T12:02:00.000-07:00

No Wensleydale shall enter into the lists.

Trousers have rarely been my friend. When I was a child I was so skinny my mother bought me boys' slim ones and they were still too big. When I became a young woman, the gap in the back was, and remains, the problem - the extreme waist to hip ratio.

So I decided that for work, when I need trousers sometimes, I would make my own. I chose an old pattern - Folkwear 218 (Palm Beach Pants, as it used to be, now Hollywood Pants, #250.) I have made the culottes (now tap pants in the re-issue) but never the trousers or knickerbockers. The trousers are a nice straight cut, falling from the hip with no pleats, and a side zip. I figured, wide legged trousers, perfect for all my figure problems - the waist-hip thing, sway back, knock knees. What fun!

Even so, I fiddled for a fortnight with the muslin, trying to get that extreme waist to hip ratio thing corrected. Even had the off-the-cuff (so to speak) consult of my friend's new hubby, who just happened to have studied design. It finally came down to pivoting the huge immense darts into the side seam and making one smallish dart in the side fronts. The problem with this is that one doesn't want the side curve to be extreme. But unless you want to emphasise the difference by two or even three darts, that's your best shot.

Now, with all the bugs worked out in the muslin, I am on to cutting the fashion fabrics - one wool gabardine and one linen. Lined. With self-bound underlining. Swish. Worthy of my mother.

For instructions on how to do underlining (on a jacket, but the principles are the same) see

Line and Underline in One Step from Threads magazine.

Pictures in the next installment

A Day at the Races

2009-04-04T19:59:00.000-07:00

Bless my Alumni Association! I was invited to the races at beautiful Golden Gate Fields, on a completely gorgeous day, and I went with my old friend Cathleen, who had never been to a live race meet. I went because of a lifelong love of horses and riding - and because it was a chance to swan about in Ascot worthy gladrags. In fact, the hat I wore was inspired by one worn by one of the Court ladies at this year's Ascot.

Several ladies accosted me, early and late, saying my dress and the hat were wonderful. Great for me as I trimmed it myself, and my daughter Brigid thought it completely outre, always a good thing.

American race meets are a little weird to me. I am much more familiar with Irish races, on courses and strand racing - if that doesn't give me away. And I promise not to sing The Galway Races.... But Cathleen did bring up 'The Quiet Man' and the race on Dingle strand. That bit of the film always amuses me, as our own little beach here in Linda Mar is just like Dingle strand - which is I guess why I live here in Celtofornia.

Me in the outrageous hat

Cathleen

The horses of one of the races, and the racecourse grounds. I had a wonderful time studying their conformation and temperament and judging how they would 'go'

Update Pet en l'air

2009-04-03T22:30:00.000-07:00

If this were a tarot card, it would be The Tower.

I arrived home to a package notice from the Post Office. An Express Mail Must be signed for package. I hoped it was the toile. Called post office national customer service. The thing MUST be signed for in person by me. No signature cards.Only the sender (my little client) can request the signature be waived. I was informed by lady at PO number that this may or may not be granted. She didn't hold out much hope. Client could not phone til Monday anyway as that office is closed. Roman buereaucracy! Informed client of situation. And let it be known that I was beside myself that another week would be stripped from the sewing time by this delay.

It all rather blew up, and the little client's mother wants everything back. In dressmaking parlance, this is known as firing the client, and deadlines are always a big issue here. So are interfering mothers. In this case, the little client was a young woman of 18, who has a job, which is why I took the commission; she has a job, which she has had for some time, and paid for the dress herself in insallments, ergo she could follow through and get things done on time. This is the same reason your employer cares if you have a college degree. Any college degree. Nevertheless, I did keep the mother informed also. You can see what good this did. I figured, okay, so she's letting the daughter have a little life lesson here in responsibility, letting her fall on her face by sending everything so late. Nope. Just self-absorbed. And nasty when I gave the little client a reality check.

My sister, who is also a costume nerd, advised me after my first stint at burning the midnight oil not to overtax myself (I have Addison's disease) as I had waited for a month already. She also advised not to let myself be taken advantage of, and cited several personal examples. But there was NO way I could get it done if I didn't push, so.... caffeine here I come. Won't do that again.

This commission was not for money, but for love of the thing, and the girl. I am sorry it has gone so badly. But dear clients: when your dressmaker tells you it wil take at least a month to complete a project, believe her; it is based on experience. Do everything in your power to get the fabric and other necessaries to her as soon as possible so your item may be completed well in advance of your deadline.

The modiste is most unhappy.

Pet en lair Update

2009-04-02T11:49:00.000-07:00

After receiving the fabric much belatedly, I am now scurrying to unpick the detachable train and cut and sew two jackets (with detatchable sleeve ruffles) in time for a date some three weeks hence.

The train arrived being a fully lined and interlined detatchable affair - an overskirt, really - rather than a swath of fabric from the bottom of the dress as I'd imagined. It had velcro at the top - attaching under the bodice, presumably - stitched and restitched and understitched. Much too much for the organza. And it is organza, not taffeta, which is good and bad; more delicate, but less prone to show stitches that have been unpicked.

The pleats, to which the ornamentation is attached, are sewn down to withstand the most severe stress imaginable, straight through the underlining. The ornamentation is also machine stitched. The modiste is not happy. Too much machine sewing can be a very bad thing.

Adventures in Henna, or Goldilocks

2009-03-24T18:56:00.000-07:00

I have been hennaing my hair with a 4-to-1 marigold blonde and red mix since I began doing so again, about a year ago; this gives a nice approximation of my natural colour with 'sunstreaks' (the white bits). However, I have always wanted 'marigold hair' - about the colour of my son Gawain's hair. Everyone calls him a strawberry blond, which he hates, and which isn't true as he is more a strong golden blond with a reddish tinge. We all think strawberry blond is the other way round. We are also very pernickety about whom we consider redheads, in my family; a tinge will not do; a golden colour will not do. It must be red, gold-red or auburn to count. Such is the privilege of we 11% of the world's popularion, though my boys have it, as my uncles do, only in their beards.

But I digress.

What I am looking for is the shade of marigold that is just the colour of a faerie my daughter Brigid painted years ago, which means more gold and less red, please. Eventually I mean to fade to blonde but I should like to go through the golden stage first and not that sorbet colour of women of a certain age who tint their hair in the manner of poodles. Oh we are snarkey today, aren't we?

So, first I made a mix of lemon juice and honey water, to remove any demarcation, and sprayed it on, letting it sit for about 45 minutes. Meanwhile, I mixed up a 5-to-1 ratio of marigold blonde and red henna, with about a teaspoon of sea salt, two tablespoons of lemonjuice and a strong cup of black tea and chammomile. The latter give yellow and gold highlights.This, having sat and infused for three quarters of an hour, was a lovely golden brown colour. Promising, Glopped stuff on hair per usual, covering with plastic and a towel. Set timer for two hours, rather than one, which is the point at which your humble servant finds herself now.
We shall see.

I have ever had any luck whatsoever with merely marigold blonde on its own, hence the smidge of red and other ingredients. The salt is a new addition (so is lemonjuice) courtesy of Anthony Morrocco's Method. Be it well-noted that henna of any kind will not lighten hair; but some of us have light enough hair to begin with. If you wish to lighten you can try the lemonjuice and honey water routine - 2 tbs lemon juice. Ditto honey. And 3/4 cup cold water. Only don't heat any of it as this will kill the fomenting of natural peroxide in the honey.

More anon, when the two hours are up. Time now for a small something.... Ah, another analogy - WInnie the Pooh coloured!

Update:
amazing gilded glowing Pre-Raphaelite hair!

Princess

2009-03-01T19:45:00.000-08:00

I am making a red taffeta sacque backed jacket for a dear girl for her prom, to go over a smashing red gown. It's nothing my own daughter would wear, worse luck, so I like being able to make something with frills and furbelows. It occurred to me yesterday that this jacket - with a hood, where it was called a Cardinal - was what Little Red Riding Hood was based on.

I drafted the pattern yesterday, and did all the cutting and sewing of the toile today, which took six hours. It was all just machine basted, as I have to send it to the recipient for a fitting. But yesterday I got some silk gauze for the sleeve ruffles, to which I will add some French gilt lace from my stash (I love saying that!) It needs a fastening, as it has no stomacher, so will have a little rhinestone chain under the bust. The bodice of the dress is encrusted in beautiful crystal and bead work.

I was a little apprehensive, as I haven't made a sacque in a long time - and actually looked at my yellow sacque polonaise to make sure I remembered how I pleated it. The latter I stitched largely by hand. I will not do with this, as there is a time constraint.

The selfish part of this for me is that this is my entre to my long awaited first mourning gown, which is a sacque. Finding the bombazine is going to be a chalenge, but I'm up to it. The taffeta of this jacket doesn't scare me; I've done a lot of taffeta gowns and dresses. And it pleases me to make something smashing to go with that gown

Update 24 March:
I still have not received the toile back from my little client, though I am informed 'it fit perfectly!' - what a testament to the modiste's art! I have her measuarements, made a sloper, et voila!

An Old Woman, the re-enactor version

2008-10-17T08:52:00.000-07:00

When I am an old woman I shall wear calico
With a chintz cap that doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and crochet lace
And buckled shoes and say we’ve no money for cable
I shall sit down on the front stoop in the summer evenings
And gobble up samples in shops and ring fire bells
And run my stick along public railings
And make up for the modernity of my youth

I shall go out barefoot in the rain
And pick berries from the hillsides
And learn the squeezebox
You can wear six layers of unmatching patterns and be more forthright
And eat a whole basket of peanuts at a go
Or only cornbread and picalilly for a week
And hoard ink pens and sealing wax and teacups and pairs of pockets

Tasha Tudor

2008-07-24T12:33:00.001-07:00

One of the hazards of living simply and not having much to do with 'outside things' is that you hear things later than other people. I have just learned that Tasha Tudor died last month, on 20 June. God rest her, beautiful lady. May she be at home in heaven in her 1830s way, with her friends and corgis. She has been a huge influence on my life, a tremendous inspiration.

The following is from her New York Times obituary:

Tasha Tudor, a children’s illustrator whose pastel watercolors and delicately penciled lines depicted an idyllic, old-fashioned vision of the 19th-century way of life she famously pursued — including weaving, spinning, gathering eggs and milking goats — died on Wednesday at her home in Marlboro, Vt.

She was 92, if one counts only the life that began on Aug. 28, 1915. Ms. Tudor frequently said that she was the reincarnation of a sea captain’s wife who lived from 1800 to 1840 or 1842, and that it was this earlier life she was replicating by living so ardently in the past.

Her son Seth confirmed the death. He suggested that his mother’s more colorful remarks might be taken with a pinch of salt.

A cottage industry grew out of Ms. Tudor’s art, which has illustrated nearly 100 books. The family sells greeting cards, prints, plates, aprons, dolls, quilts and more, all in a sentimental, rustic, but still refined style resembling that of Beatrix Potter.

In her promotion of such a definitive lifestyle, Ms. Tudor has been called a 19th-century Martha Stewart. Books, videotapes, magazine articles and television shows illuminated her gardening and housekeeping ideas.

For 70 years her illustrations elicited wide admiration: The New York Times in 1941 said her pictures “have the same fragile beauty of early spring evenings.”

Her drawings, particularly the early ones, often illustrated the almost equally memorable stories she herself wrote. Some details: Sparrow Post, a postal service for dolls with delivery by birds. Birthday parties featuring flotillas of cakes with lighted candles. Mouse Mills catalogs, for ordering dolls clothes made by mice, who take buttons for pay.

The Catholic Library World said in 1971 that Ms. Tudor shed “a special ray of sunshine” with pictures that carry “the imagination of children into history, into the human heart, into the joys of family life, into love of friendship itself.”

Two of Ms. Tudor’s books were named Caldecott Honor Books: “Mother Goose” (1944) and “1 Is One” (1956). Ms. Tudor was just awarded the Regina Medal by the Catholic Library Association.

But it was her uncompromising immersion in another, less comfortable century that most fascinated people. She wore kerchiefs, hand-knitted sweaters, fitted bodices and flowing skirts, and often went barefoot. She reared her four children in a home without electricity or running water until her youngest turned 5. She raised her own farm animals; turned flax she had grown into clothing; and lived by homespun wisdom: sow root crops on a waning moon, above-ground plants on a waxing one.

“It is healthful to sleep in a featherbed with your nose pointing north,” she said in an interview with The Times in 1977.

Starling Burgess, who later legally changed both her names to Tasha Tudor, was born in Boston to well-connected but not wealthy parents. Her mother, Rosamond Tudor, was a portrait painter, and her father, William Starling Burgess, was a yacht and airplane designer who collaborated with Buckminster Fuller.

Ms. Tudor could not remember a time when she did not draw pictures or make little books. She was originally nicknamed Natasha by her father, after Tolstoy’s heroine in “War and Peace.” This was shortened to Tasha. After her parents divorced when she was 9, Ms. Tudor adopted her mother’s last name.

In an autobiography she wrote in 1951, Ms. Tudor said she did not start school until she was 9, although other biographies say she began as early as 7. She attended the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, for a year, but said she learned painting from her mother. Her art was often framed by ornate borders like those from a medieval manuscript, but more whimsical.

Partly to protect her from Jazz Age Greenwich Village, where her mother had moved, Ms. Tudor was sent to live with a couple in Connecticut, drama enthusiasts who included children in the plays they put on. She soon developed a love of times past and things rural, going to auctions to buy antique clothing before she was 10. At 15 she used money she had made teaching nursery school to buy her first cow.

In 1938 she married Thomas Leighton McCready Jr., who was in the real estate business. A fiddler played the wedding march. Mr. McCready encouraged his bride to put together a folio of pictures and seek publishers. She was repeatedly turned down before her first published book, “Pumpkin Moonshine” (1938), was accepted by Oxford University Press. It was the start of a flood, many still in print.

Ms. Tudor’s favorite of all her books was “Corgiville Fair,” one of several she wrote about the Welsh corgi dogs she kept as pets, sometimes 13 or 14 at once. Her 1963 illustrated version of “The Secret Garden,” by Frances Hodgson Burnett, tells of children enraptured by a mysterious garden. The volume of Clement C. Moore’s “Night Before Christmas” that she illustrated remains popular.

She rebuked those who said she must be enthralled with her own creativity.

“That’s nonsense,” she said. “I’m a commercial artist, and I’ve done my books because I needed to earn my living.”

She and her husband moved to a 19th-century farmhouse in New Hampshire that lacked electricity and running water, but did have 17 rooms and 450 acres. Ms. Tudor painted in the kitchen, in between baking bread and washing dishes. She created a dollhouse with a cast of characters, two of whom were married in a ceremony covered by Life magazine.

Ms. Tudor was divorced from Mr. McCready, who later died, and from a second husband, Allan John Woods. In 1972 she sold the New Hampshire farm and moved onto her property near her son Seth in Marlboro.

In addition to Seth, Ms. Tudor is survived by her daughters Bethany Tudor of West Brattleboro, Vt., and Efner Tudor Holmes of Contoocook, N.H.; another son, Thomas, of Fairfax, Va.; eight grandchildren; four step-grandchildren; three great-grandchildren; and her half-sister, Ann Hopps of Camden, Me.

Ms. Tudor, who could play the dulcimer and handle a gun, once promised a reporter for The Times that she could find a four-leaf clover within five minutes and came back with a five-leaf one in four minutes. She kept a seven-leaf clover framed in her room.

She told The Virginian-Pilot of Norfolk in 1996 that it was her intention to go straight back to the 1830s after her death.

Rest in Peace, lady.

Boiling Clothes

2008-07-21T13:10:00.000-07:00

These last three weeks I have been working on a book (a novel) about plain living in Idyllwild (CA) in the 1970s - it is DONE! huzzah!- and one of the things that came up in it was how to wash clothes when you have no electricity, no hot running water, and no vitreous china bathtub. (I have washed clothes in the bathtub in my college days.) Well, you boil them, a'course! and according to those that know, it gets them cleaner and whiter than anything, even bleach, especially socks and men's shirts (no offence, lads).

Noodling about the net, since I have all kinds of time on my hands now... I came across this conversation over at A Purposed Life:

Do you boil your clothes? Silly me, I know how ridiculous that sounds, you are probably thinking, "Are you crazy, I slap them into the front loader, sprinkle a little soap and walk away!" Well, normally I do too, but occasionally that doesn't work for me!

Around here socks can get REALLY dirty, sometimes dish towels smell sour even after washing and drying, and hubby's pillowcase can still look dingy after washing with bleach! For these hard to clean items, I boil them...really!

I put whatever I'm wanting to sanitize into a huge pot, saved only for this purpose - just wanted to clarify so that I didn't scare our recent dinner guests, and fill with water. When the water reaches a boil I add a cup of OxyClean and the items I'm washing and turn the heat down to medium. I put a top on it and let it return to a boil then I turn the heat down to low and let it go for an hour or two. After the boiling I then toss the clothing into my machine as usual! This typically cleans these items REALLY well and I'm quite pleased with the results. Yes, you will need to stir the clothes around and keep poking them back into the water, and yes the water will be BLECK! but your clothes will be CLEAN. The first time I did this I wanted to rush right out and build a fire, put a black cauldron on top and boil all of my clothes, but I didn't! Oh and just so you know, no, your house won't smell like Christmas doing this, but by golly, your clothes will be SOOO clean!

I have never had a problem with this but I always keep a close eye on whatever I'm boiling because I would hate to tell hubby, "Oh I forgot about the pillowcase I was boiling and burned down the house." That wouldn't be too great of me. Try it, but don't blame me if the house burns down, I told ya to keep an eye on it! =)!

Cherish the Ladies! as the song goes.

Moe's 24

2008-07-03T14:31:00.000-07:00

Celestial Seasonings' original herb tea blend, Moe's 24 Herb tea is not made anymore. But I read a story (from the man in question ) about a guy who wanted the recipe to make up some for his wife for their 32nd anniversary, because they drank it when courting. He wrote to wrote to CS asking for the recipe, and they gave it to him.

(What a hubby!Bottle and sell him!)

Here's the recipe:

Ingredients: Hibiscus flowers, raspberry leaves, eucalyptus, peppermint, spearmint, strawberry leaves, chamomile, anise, rosehips, alfalfa, rosemary, papaya, blackberry leaves, mullein, comfrey, nettles, golden rod, blueberry leaves, elder flowers, catnip, plantain, sage, yarrow, and red clover tops.

Sweet!

Found

2008-06-23T21:24:00.000-07:00

I had an epiphany today, after studying and thinking, and more studying, of styles, my needs, and personality: I can use the fashions of 1910 -1919, in the Arts and Crafts colours which suit me, as an everyday work style that is both artistic and chic.

This happened, prosaically, as I was driving home from work, out in the Avenues, and saw someone wearing a jacket that was ivory and scarlet (I think it was a windproof, but no matter.) Now I can work things out, marrying artistry, detail and colour in clothing that is attractive, appropriate and timeless.

It does amuse me that it is the '10s I have gravitated toward; it is a decade I know well. I honestly thought the choice would end up being the 1930s and early '40s. But I want more coverage.

Marquise Cut

2008-06-21T21:08:00.000-07:00

I have spent almost the whole day working on a toile for myself. I figured, since I have to get a pattern for one anyway for a client of mine and haven't had a new one in ages, it seemed a good idea. I got a size 10, because that's all there was (and no prob for the client, because I know how to draft patterns, I just was too lazy to start completely from scratch), figuring, okay I'll enlarge it. (According to the common wisdom of 'buy by your bust size' I should be wearing a 16. Even with Nancy Zieman's buy 'by your front chest width measure', it should have been a 12.) Well, I had to enlarge the bust only and had to actually take in both the back and front upper chest and shoulders a LOT. And the waist, but I'm used to that. Thing is, this is supposed to be a fitting pattern - it's supposed to have NO ease. Obviously, it had a lot, because I took off four inches' width front and back. Heck!

So I'm standing there thinking, 'man, I have to move these front darts or I'll look like Jane Russell', and I had a flash of my mother. She made her wedding dress, a scrummy ivory faille Jackie Kennedy suit that fit me like a glove when I was the same age she was when she got married (I wore it for several swank occasions). Woo, scary. But, she had to do this too. All this fiddling. It was very sweet, a very tangible link, like her dress.

Then I thought, hey, I don't have so awful a figure! (It's been ages since I've bought a Big Four commercial pattern for me that wasn't a costume 'cause most of them are very boring, WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE PRINCESS @£$%!! SEAMS?! Ahem. I digress.

So, I only got the actual bodice fitted, I have yet to do sleeves and (yikes) straight skirt - that sort of Marilyn Monroe in Some Like It Hot 'sewn onto you' type, in which I look horrible. Let's EMPHASISE my WORST FEATURE! HERE IT IS BOYS, LOOK AT THEM HIPS. yah. sure. But I will do it because it gives me a template for other things and then I don't have to alter every pattern every time; I can simply lay this one on top and bob's your uncle.

I've been trying to figure what a woman of my age and figure, job and number of grown children should be wearing, but the only rules I have are about 100 years old (I am not joking) - and stuff in catalogues is A-W-F-U-L, and shops aren't much better. I can look like a frump, an old hippie/folkie, or like I'm wearing the patio tablecloth. Gee which shall I pick? I pick Olivia deHavilland! or Vivien Leigh, Elsa Lancaster, or Myrna Loy or Maureen O'Hara anyone in any film before 1960. I can't pick the Queen Mum; I look ghastly in pastels, and forget ginormous flowers. Maybe I could pick the Queen Mum when she was Duchess of York. Anyway, the straight PRINCESS CUT sold colour dress is out. So are elastic waist trousers. Even if I wore trousers.

My friend Mrs. Washington (Mary Wiseman that is) wears beautiful ethnic print clothes with modern jewellery. About as far flung from Lady Washington as possible. But she always looks smashing.

I'll find what I'm looking for. Meanwhile, I'll stick to my vintage Laura Ashley.

Going Pear-Shaped

2008-06-19T12:34:00.000-07:00

I am making a sloper for a dear friend of mine, for some yummy scrummy 1920s garments. Among the questions I have asked (after securing measurements in 72 different places) are the following, which she probably has never considered before (most people wearing RTW and taking what they get):

1) Ease -There is, now, at least 2" of 'ease' in patterns, if not more. This is too much for my taste (the vintage Laura Ashley I am wearing at the mo has 1" and that's plenty). How much ease do you like in your clothing?

2) Armscyes (holes) -they are cut very big now (I liked Tom Wolfe's comment that on mens' suits they were the size of the Holland Tunnel!)I like a smaller armscye for ease of movement and line (everything before about 1968 had smaller armscyes.) What do you prefer? (NB, if they are too big, they restrict arm movement, unless the garment is VERY loose-fitting.)

3) Shoulder pads -From the 1940s to now, I hate them, and remove them from patterns or garments (where possible). Do you like them? If so, what size?

4) Fastenings -personally, I HATE zippers, and prefer buttons, hooks and eyes, snaps, or ties. How do you feel about them? If you like them where do you prefer them - back or side?

Of buttoning garments - almost any back-fastening garment can be changed to fasten
in the front, side front or shoulder/side. Do you like back buttoning things? If you like back buttoning things and they are a pain, a zip or hooks or snaps can be put in the side (the LA I am wearing right now has this.)

Because I also have some - ahem - middle aged figure changes, I am making a new sloper for myself. Some problems remain: I have a 'classic British figure' and have always been short-waisted (2 full inches from commercial patterns and RTW!) and had a short waist to full hip ratio; I have always had narrower shoulders and a smaller upper chest than patterns and RTW. But now everything sits (or falls) differently, and unless I wear my half-boned corset, I am hopelessly squashy, which I hate. Ah Collagen! No amount of exercise will bring that back.... But I digress.

Anyway, in remeasuring self, I have come to the unfortunate conclusion that I am pear-shaped. Now, when I weighted 105 pounds this was not noticeable. 30 years and pounds and three children later, it is. 'Hourglass' I can deal with. 'Edwardian' is preferable. But 'pear-shaped' has terrible connotations; it means something really rather hopelessly bad across the Pond in Blighty. I am not 'zaftig' and probaby never will be, but my ancestors (Scots-Irish and 'five-feet tall' Welsh) are showing. If I could I would simply wear period clothing, which solves most of these problems, but I have to function in the workaday world. I can get away with 1920s-40s (and do) but by 'period' I mean anything before that.

I realised, in writing the questions to my friend, that all of my clothing preferences come from period clothing. All of them. I suppose that could be charming, but it certainly makes me an odd duck.

Nothing else to do but waddle along, pear-shaped and glory in being a femme Celtic lass.

Clothes make the Man

2008-06-14T09:24:00.000-07:00

In the midst of refurbishing some old things (including old pattern ideas and ancient methods of stitching) and making new, I came across the following in an article by Tom Wolfe in the New York Herald Tribune's Sunday magazine "in 1963, '64, or '65":

Real buttonholes. That's it! A man can take his thumb and forefinger and unbutton his sleeve at the wrist because this kind of suit has real buttonholes there. Tom, boy, it's terrible. Once you know about it, you start seeing it. All the time! There are just two classes of men in the world, men with suits whose buttons are just sewn onto the sleeve, just some kind of cheapie decoration, or—yes!—men who can unbutton the sleeve at the wrist because they have real buttonholes and the sleeve really buttons up. Fascinating! My friend Ross, a Good Guy, thirty-two years old, a lawyer Downtown with a good head of Scotch-Irish hair, the kind that grows right, unlike lower-class hair, is sitting in his corner on East 81st St., in his Thonet chair, with the Flemish brocade cushion on it, amid his books, sets of Thackeray, Hazlitt, Lamb, Walter Savage Landor, Cardinal Newman, and other studs of the rhetoric game, amid his prints, which are mostly Gavarni, since all the other young lawyers have Daumiers or these cute muvvas by "Spy," or whatever it is, which everybody keeps laying on thatchy-haired young lawyers at Christmas—Ross is sitting among all these good tawny, smoke-cured props drinking the latest thing somebody put him onto, port, and beginning to talk about coats with real buttonholes at the sleeves. What a taboo smirk on his face!

..."I want to tell you a funny thing," he says. "The first time I had any idea about this whole business of the buttonholes was a couple of Christmases ago, one Saturday, when I ran into Sturges at Dunhill's." Dunhill the tobacco shop. Sturges is a young partner in Ross's firm on Wall Street. Ross idealizes Sturges. Ross stopped carrying an attaché case, for example, because Sturges kept referring to attaché cases as leather lunch pails. Sturges is always saying something like "You know who I saw yesterday? Stolz. There he was, walking along Exchange Place with his leather lunch pail, the poor bastard." Anyway, Ross says he ran into Sturges in Dunhill's. "He was trying to get some girl a briar pipe for Christmas or some damn thing." That Sturges! "Anyway, I had just bought a cheviot tweed suit, kind of Lovat-colored—you know, off the rack—actually it was a pretty good-looking suit. So Sturges comes over and he says, 'Well, old Ross has some new togs,' or something like that. Then he says, 'Let me see something,' and he takes the sleeve and starts monkeying around with the buttons. Then he says, 'Nice suit,' but he says it in a very half-hearted way. Then he goes off to talk to one of those scientific slenderellas he always has hanging around. So I went over to him and said, 'What was all that business with the buttons?' And he said, 'Well, I thought maybe you had it custom made.' He said it in a way like it was now pretty goddamned clear it wasn't custom made. Then he showed me his suit—it was a window-pane check, have you ever seen one of those?—he showed me his suit, the sleeve, and his suit had buttonholes on the sleeve. It was custom made. He showed me how he could unbutton it. Just like this. The girl wondered what the hell was going on. She stood there with one hip cocked, watching him undo a button on his sleeve. Then I looked at mine and the buttons were just sewn on. You know?" And you want to know something? That really got to old Ross. He practically couldn't wear that suit anymore. All right, it's ridiculous. He probably shouldn't even be confessing all this. It's embarrassing. And—the taboo smirk!

Yes! The lid was off, and poor old Ross was already hooked on the secret vice of the Big men in New York: custom tailoring and the mania for the marginal differences that go into it. Practically all the most powerful men in New York, especially on Wall Street, the people in investment houses, banks and law firms, the politicians, especially Brooklyn Democrats, for some reason, outstanding dandies, those fellows, the blue-chip culturati, the major museum directors and publishers, the kind who sit in offices with antique textile shades—practically all of these men are fanatical about the marginal differences that go into custom tailoring. They are almost like a secret club insignia for them. And yet it is a taboo subject. They won't talk about it. They don't want it known that they even care about it. But all the time they have this fanatical eye, more fanatical than a woman's, about the whole thing and even grade men by it. The worst jerks, as far as they are concerned—and people can lose out on jobs, promotions, the whole can of worms, because of this—are men who have dumped a lot of money, time and care into buying ready-made clothes from some Englishy dry goods shop on Madison Avenue with the belief that they are really "building fine wardrobes." Such men are considered to be bush leaguers, turkeys and wet smacks, the kind of men who tote the leather lunch pail home at night and look forward to having a drink and playing with the baby.

...The secret vice! A whole new universe! Buttonholes! The manufacturers can't make ready-made suits with permanent buttonholes on the sleeves. The principle of ready-made clothes is that each suit on the rack can be made to fit about four different shapes of men. They make the sleeves long and then the store has a tailor, an unintelligible little man who does alterations, chop them off to fit men with shorter arms and move the buttons up.

And suddenly Ross found that as soon as you noticed this much, you started noticing the rest of it. Yes! The scyes, for example. The scyes! Imagine somebody like Ross knowing all this esoteric terminology. Ross is a good old boy, for godsake. The scyes! The scyes are the armholes in a coat. In ready-made clothes, they make the armholes about the size of the Holland Tunnel. Anybody can get in these coats. Jim Bradford, the former heavyweight weight-lifting champion, who has arms the size of a Chapman Valve fire hydrant, can put on the same coat as some poor bastard who is mooning away the afternoon at IBM shuffling memos and dreaming of going home and having a drink and playing with the baby. Naturally, for everybody but Jim Bradford, this coat is loose and looks sloppy, as you can imagine. That's why custom-made suits have high armholes; because they fit them to a man's own particular shoulder and arm. And then all these other little details. In Ross's league, Wall Street, practically all of these details follow the lead of English tailoring. The waist: the suits go in at the waist, they're fitted, instead of having a straight line, like the Ivy League look. This Ivy League look was great for the ready-made manufacturers. They just turned out simple bags and everybody was wearing them. The lapels: in the custom-made suits they're wider and have more "belly," meaning more of a curve or flared-out look along the outer edge. The collar: the collar of the coat fits close to the neck—half the time in ready-made suits it sits away from the neck, because it was made big to fit all kinds. The tailor-made suit fits closer and the collar itself will have a curve in it where it comes up to the notch. The sleeves: the sleeves are narrower and are slightly tapered down to the wrists. Usually, there are four buttons, sometimes three, and they really button and unbutton. The shoulders are padded to give the coat shape; "natural shoulders" are for turkeys and wet smacks. The vents: often the coat will have side vents or no vents, instead of center vents, and the vents will be deeper than in a ready-made suit.

...You walk into a room and you can't tell whether somebody has real buttonholes on his sleeves or not. All of these marginal differences are like that. They're so small, they're practically invisible. All right! That's what's so maniacal about it. In women's clothes, whole styles change from year to year. They have new "silhouettes," waists and hems go up and down, collars go in and out, breasts blossom out and disappear; you can follow it. But in men's clothes there have only been two style changes in this century, and one of them was so esoteric, it's hard for a tailor to explain it without a diagram. It had to do with eliminating a breast seam and substituting something called a "dart." That happened about 1913. The other thing was the introduction of pleats in pants about 1922. Lapels and pants leg widths have been cut down some, but most of the flashy stuff in lapels and pants goes on in ready-made suits, because the manufacturers are naturally hustling to promote style changes and make a buck. In custom-made suits, at least among tailors in the English tradition, there have really been no changes for fifty years. The whole thing is in the marginal differences—things that show that you spent more money and had servitors in there cutting and sewing like madmen and working away just for you. Status! Yes!

Yes, and how can these so-called Big men really get obsessed with something like this? God only knows. Maybe these things happen the way they happened to Lyndon Johnson, Our President. Mr. Johnson was campaigning with John Kennedy in 1960, and he had to look at Kennedy's clothes and then look at his own clothes, and then he must have said to himself, in his winning, pastoral way, Great Hairy Ned on the mountaintop, my clothes look like Iron Boy overalls. Yus, muh cluths look luk Irun Bouy uvverulls. Now this Kennedy, he had most of his clothes made by tailors in England. Anyway, however it came about, one day in December, 1960, after the election, if one need edit, Lyndon Johnson, the salt of the good earth of Austin, Texas, turned up on Savile Row in London, England, and walked into the firm of Carr, Son & Woor. He said he wanted six suits, and the instructions he gave were: "I want to look like a British diplomat." Lyndon Johnson! Like a British diplomat! You can look it up. Lyndon Johnson, President of the United States, Benefactor of the Po', Lion of NATO, Defender of the Faith of Our Fathers, Steward of Peace in Our Times, Falconer of Our Sly Asiatic Enemies, Leader of the Free World—is soft on real buttonholes! And I had wondered about Ross.

The Perfect Cap

2008-06-11T06:56:00.000-07:00

For everyday wear, for me.

http://www.modehistorique.com/ elizabethan/coif.html
http://www.modehistorique.com/elizabethan/images/hoods/coif1.jpg

Of course it is Elizabethan, what else? (rolls eyes)

There is also this, actually. Jacobean (there we go again!)

http://www.extremecostuming.com/articles/howtowearthecoif.html

which shows at the bottom of the page how to wear a coif with a forehead cloth. The author of this site is a re-enactor at Jamestown, which was literally down the road from me at Williamsburg (I lived in an unincorporated section of James City Co., off the Jamestown Road.)

I could get very elaborate with embroidery (OMG! yes) but probably shouldn't.

Anyway, I'm happy.

Turned Dresses

2008-05-25T18:18:00.000-07:00

I have been given the wonderful gift of a ticket to visit friends on the east coast in August (they all pitched in for it - like a rent party!) - I am delighted, except that I realised I have no clothes for Virginia in the summer. Now, it is long enough away that I could make some things, but as 'we is pore' and I otherwise have no need of dresses to survive Virginia in August, I decided I would remake some old dresses of my daughter's.

Yes, you read that right - hand-me-downs from my daughter. When she was ten, no less! She is now eighteen. She outgrew two calico shifts I made for her (princess cut, short sleeves) rather quickly. I put them by, and use one of them for a nightgown in extremis, when all else is in the wash. But I swim in them. At age ten my darling girl was half a head taller than me and about a size larger. So, I decided to cut these at about the 1830s waist level, slightly raised, refit the bodices, and sew them back together. Voila! ankle length cotton dresses to live down on the farm in Albemarle for a week.

As I was picking the bodices apart, I thought of the old custom of remaking and turning clothes. Also of what a wasteful society we live in. How many times have I seen genuinely old clothes - Elizabeth, Jacobean, Georgian, Victorian - that have been recut, remade, turned and retrimmed until they are unwearable - then saved because they are old. Fabric used to be much more expensive than it is now (and good stuffs are not cheap now, either), and people did not waste it. If the clothes could no longer be made useful for a child or baby, they were cut up to put into a quilt. There are famous stories during the American Civil War of 'twice turned dresses' in the beleaguerd South (I make no bones that my sympathies lie in Virginia), and during the Second World War on both sides of the pond remaking things was the manner of the day, with clothing rationing and new fabric unobtainable.

There is something very pleasant about getting something new out of something old, apart from the thrill of thrift. It is as much a gift as that magical plane ticket sent to me by my friends.

Here's to old ways and old days.

Haying

2008-05-23T14:39:00.000-07:00

I have discovered that my very own local hardware shop has 'grass whips' - otherwise known as scythes - and they are inexpensive. I have wanted something non motorised for ever, and was inspired by friend Susanna's tales of cutting grass with a scythe; a much more leisurely affair that I can engage in at the end of a day's work, as compared to the smelly, difficult, noisy and messy hauling out of the mower at the weekend. The mower gives me blisters and sore arms, as it must weigh as much as I do. My other option was a push mower, but this is much more friendly, in so many ways.

I can think of several songs to sing while working, mostly very old - the Mingulay Boat Song and Oro Se Do Beata Bhaile, among which. I confess to a romantic image in my mind from Tess of the D'urbervilles. Canna help it.

Huzzah!

Au Naturelle

2008-05-18T11:58:00.000-07:00

Before I cut my hair two years ago I used to henna it; naively, I used only red henna and didn't know I could add other things to it to change it from a very orange colour to my natural red-gold, so for a few years, I had really technicolour hair. This was fine as I was wearing vintage clothing and it 'matched.' I could only leave it on my hair for about five or ten minutes, and even that was pretty strong.

But when I cut my hair, donating the 27" to Locks of Love, I gave up on all that. I had found some Marigolde Blonde henna (cassia, chammomile and calendula) and thought to 'fade to blonde' as I have about 30% 'grey' (it's white, actually), but I could never get it to work, even leaving it on for an hour. I was annoyed because it worked when added to the mix of a brunette friend of mine (half and half with red henna) to cover her grey. What was wrong with me? I know that natural red hair doesn't take dye very well, but this is henna! and red henna takes on my hair like a house on fire.

Then I read that cassia, so called neutral henna, needs something to stick to, so add some red. Being really depresed by beige hair, or sandy, if you prefer (which is what my red had faded to, as most natural redheads) I thought I would try again. It worked. I have something very close to my natural colour now, with 'strawberry blonde' streaks where my white is. I am happy that I can use this formula forever with progressivly less red (it's only a tablespoonfull now) and fade to blonde. I also read that the dye in cassia (which is pale gold) releases better if it's let to sit overnight, which may be why my first attempts were unsuccessful.

For those of you who are not redheads, you can mix red henna with indigo and cassia to achieve shades from light brown to black. If you are a cool blonde or brunette, add amla (this fixes the problem of henna reducing natural curl as well.)

Some recipes below:

Pale gold (to lighter colours and white)- 100% cassia
Marigold Blonde- 1/3 henna, 2/3 cassia
Copper- ½ henna, ½ cassia
Red- 100% henna
Light Brown- 2/3 henna. 1/3 indigo
Medium Brown- ½ henna, ½ indigo
Burgundy- 2/3 henna, 1/3 indigo
Mahogany- 1/3 henna, 2/3 indigo
Sherry- ¼ henna, 3/4 indigo
Black- two step henna, indigo process

Update 6 October 2010:
I am now using a mixture of marigold blonde henna (cassia, chammomile and marigold) and rhubarb, mostly the latter, so my hair is much more gold than red. Now people call me a strawberry blonde, and I agree with them.

1926—The New-Way Course in Fashionable Clothes-Making

2008-05-12T13:45:00.000-07:00

A fascinating piece of vintage advice to the dressmaker, from Vintage Sewing.Info:

1926—The New-Way Course in Fashionable Clothes-Making
Lesson 56—Seasons and Sidelines

The good seasons—and the bad
Suggestions for the Christmas season Other sideline suggestions Maternity clothes Underwear and lingerie Children's clothes

The Good Seasons—and the Bad
In dressmaking, more than in any other business, a great deal is dependent upon the seasons. Spring and fall are excellent seasons; there is a good volume of business during the summer and winter. But in-between these seasons there are dull periods when the business slacks—and when the shop owner loses money unless she is clever.

Being clever means simply availing the dull seasons for other purposes than dressmaking. There are many profitable side-lines ideal for the dull season, that make up for the loss in business. We will take this up later in the lesson, studying each "side line" individually.

A great many dressmakers find that the quickest way to success is through specialization. One dressmaker we have in mind, for instance, specializes in dresses for girls who are graduating from school. She has an excellent reputation for making pretty dresses of this kind—but you can readily see her business is limited to the seasons when girls graduate. She has solved the problem by making trousseaux and mourning clothes between seasons, and has built up quite a profitable volume of business with this side-line.

While we are on the subject of specialization, it will not be amiss to mention that is as an ideal way to build up a reputation for the shop. If you can make evening gowns better than anything else, specialize in that. If you like to make tailored clothes, make that your specialty. Whatever you can do best, specialize in—and let your friends, acquaintances and customers know that you are specializing in it. Then make all other phases of the business "side lines" which simply pad out your earnings and keep your business progressing.

One of the greatest assets in business is knowing what people want. Some people know this instinctively, but the majority of people have to learn from actual experience and study the things their customers like. When you know what people want, give it to them, and you will find that your business is taking care of itself. It is only when you try to sell people something they don't want, that your business begins to suffer.

There is a knack to "sizing" people up. Some dressmakers can judge, as soon as a customer enters the shop, whether she wants something original, distinctive and different, or whether she prefers something plain and conventional. She can tell the customers who like the extreme, and customers who like the simple. By "sizing" up the customer in this way, she is able to show her only what she knows will please and satisfy her, rather than something through the complete stock haphazardly in the hope of striking something that will please the customer's fancy.

Suggestions for the Christmas Season
Just as she can make her dull seasons profitable by incorporating "side lines" into her business, the clever dressmaker can make the Christmas holidays doubly profitable by utilizing little odds and ends of novelties that are so appropriate for gifts. There are countless pretty, dainty things that can be made quickly and easily by the woman who is deft with her needle and original in her methods.

There are, for instance, dainty affairs for milady's boudoir—crisp, pretty little things that can be made without much trouble at all—that are, in fact, quite enjoyable to make, and that can be sold at a substantial profit. Flower-trimmed garters are always in demand. Packed neatly in a holly box, they make an excellent gift. The garters should be decorative, daintily trimmed with tiny buds and flowers, all hand made. They may sell from 50¢ to $1.50, depending upon the materials and the amount of time devoted to the sewing. Very elaborate garters may sell for as high as $2.50.

One dressmaker, who enjoys her work and revels in her petty little shop, specializes in boudoir caps for the holiday season. Each year, before Christmas, she has a display of original, attractive boudoir caps in her window. Some are of tulle with ribbon roses; some of net and lace; some cleverly made of ribbon and wire. All are extremely dainty and presentable, and when packed in attractive little boxes make most delightful gifts. Boudoir caps range in price from 75¢ to $5.00.

Some dressmakers like to make dainty bows for lingerie, others like to make boudoir slippers of satin ribbon, trimmed with shirrings and bows. Many find interest—and incidentally, fine profit—in making bags. Attractive bits of material can be transformed into exquisite handbags that can be sold for high prices at Christmas time. For instance, an opera bag with an embroidered motif and bead fringe can be made easily from left-overs, yet will bring as much as $5.00 or $7.00 at Christmas time. A dainty little bag for a powder puff can be made in a half-hour from a bit of left-over satin or taffeta, and can be sold for 50¢ or 75¢. And there are nay number of velvet bags, overnight bags, embroidery bags, workbags, fancy bags that can be made and sold profitably at the Christmas season.

It makes no difference whether you have a shop or just a room in your home—you can utilize your space, time, and your ends of material to great advantage. Many dressmakers who start small increase their business by selling novelties such as these not only at Christmas, but all year round.

Other Side-Line Suggestions
If you love to make pretty, dainty things for children, if you enjoy handling fine laces and embroideries, you should by all means choose the making of baby things for your Christmas trade. In fact, you can make this a regular side-line and incorporate it as a special department of your regular business.

It's fun making tiny baby shoes, dainty little caps, exquisite little baby dresses, fancy boudoir ornaments for baby's safety pins, etc. Why, there's no end to the degree in which you can allow your fancy to wander! The more original you are, the prettier your creations will be. And no matter how low your prices are, you will always make a substantial profit, for the materials you use are left-overs.

Among other things, you can make hand-painted coat hangers for the infant's little dresses, rattles with handsome ribbon bows, little trinket boxes, safety pin holders, holders for bonnets, bibs, etc. These charming little novelties are very simple to copy, and always have an instant appeal to customers. Your workers can be kept busy during the dull seasons making them, and you can have a good supply ready by Christmas time to meet the demands.

It is also interesting and profitable to make, from larger pieces of material, decorative handkerchief bags for the dressing table, sewing bags, aprons, hat-pin holders, decorative dolls for the boudoir, etc. Some dressmakers even make distinctive handkerchiefs for the holiday season, and some like to make miniature hat-boxes for vanity flowers. A lamb's wool slipper sole, decorated solely with a cluster bow or satin ribbon, costs only about 30¢ but can be sold for 74¢ or $1.00.

And so we could go on endlessly, giving you suggestions for sidelines that you will not only enjoy but that will add to your profits and bring you many new customers. You must be alert, progressive, constantly watchful for new ideas and new money-making schemes. As soon as you stop progressing, your business deteriorates. It cannot stand still. It goes either forward or backward. Is your shop going to go forward? It's entirely up to you, you know.

Maternity Clothes
One of the most profitable side-lines for dressmakers is maternity clothes. There is a constant demand for cloths that are smart, modish, attractive—and comfortable—and prospective mothers are glad to pay whatever you ask providing you give them the kind of dresses in which they will feel comfortable and inconspicuous.

However, not everyone can make attractive maternity clothes. A lesson in the Course deals thoroughly with this subject, and if you study it carefully you will be able to make the kind of clothes your customers will appreciate. But do not make the mistake of trying to sell maternity clothes that are not correct, for in this way you will make one sale and lose your customer. The problem is to keep the customer and to do this you must give real service.

Making clothes for mourning is also profitable but not quite so much so as maternity clothes. Mourning clothes should be dignified, sombre, but with smart lines and made in good taste. Trousseaux are interesting to make, and extremely profitable. Some dressmakers specialize in outfitting the bride-to-be, but we do not advise this unless you are particularly deft and clever in the art of making bridal finery. If you are, make it the specialty department of your shop.

Underwear and Lingerie
If your shop is large enough to warrant it, and if you want to have a big, all-year-round business, it is profitable to incorporate an underwear and lingerie department. You may make the garments yourself, purchase them ready-made, or have your workers make them during the dull seasons. The first plan is the best, as you will be able to make underwear that is different, individual—and you will be able to charge higher prices for them.

At Christmas, Easter and other holiday seasons a good line of underwear and lingerie proves valuable in keeping the business going smoothly, instead of having the income decrease as it would ordinarily in the dull season. It is wise to have neat boxes for the underthings, with your name printed on them. Step-ins, chemises, vests, camisoles and bloomers are excellent sellers, especially when they are cleverly made with edgings and insertions of lace, fine tuckings and plaitings, dainty bows and hemstitching. Many of your regular dress customers will be glad to purchase dainty underthings of you, if you sell them reasonably enough. And you really should be able to sell them reasonably, as they cost you only what the materials alone cost—and if you purchase wisely the materials should cost you very little.

Children's Clothes
A particularly profitable branch of specialization is children's clothes. Not only is it profitable but it is extremely enjoyable, especially if one enjoys making dainty little rompers, play suits, dresses and petticoats for the youngsters.

A fine knowledge of machine sewing, a knack for making the unexpected and the original, help considerably in making the kind of kiddie's clothes that women will be glad to buy and pay good prices for. Women always like to dress their children attractively and differently and they will be glad to pay your prices if you can give them what they want.

Children's clothes can be made to order, or can be made in quantity to sell as ready-made clothes are sold. But in either case, the dressmaker should be sure the sizes are absolutely correct—that the four-year old size will fit a four-year old girl—for in children's clothes size is very important.

An attractive dressmaking shop, correctly run, is as interesting and enjoyable as it is profitable. Take pride in your shop, keep it attractive and up to date, and you will find pleasure in it. If at any time you meet some unexpected problem that is not solved for you in the pages of this book, if you feel the need of expert help or advice, do not hesitate to write to your teachers at the School of Modern Dress. They will always be glad to help you.

Zips

2008-05-06T17:50:00.000-07:00

Since I began sewing at age 12 I have hated zips. I hate wearing them, I hate sewing them, I hate repairing them. I have gone to great lengths to avoid them, using buttons, snaps, hooks and loops. Anything. However, in some garments, such as my daughter's prom dresses, they are unavoidable (because she hates snaps, etc). So these two years running I have wrestled with the infernal things in couture fabrics, most displeased. The whole garment looks fab until you sew in that blasted zip, and then the back or side is all wavy, hard, wonky. So I curse the 1920s for once, and the advent of the zip (at least theirs were metal and not stupid plastic.)

And now I discover, some thrity-odd years on, that I could have hand-sewn them to a much better effect when they were unavoidable. In fact, in couture wedding gowns (the costing in the tens of thousands varieties) they are de rigeur.

Jolly good.

All this came about because I was thinking today of putting on the last trimming on my daughter's latest killer prom dress. I left it off becasue I did not want to run it into the zip. Why should this be so hard (Whinge whinge). After all Sandy Irvine, who climbed Everest with Mallory, sewed zips into his pockets himself, by hand, in 1923 (or, rather, his grilfriend probably did.)

so here it is ladies, the how-to of handsewn zips, courtesy of Taunton Press:
A hand-picked, or hand-sewn, zipper is sturdy and easy to master. It doesn't distort or pucker, is great for heavily embellished or delicate fabrics, and -- best of all -- calls attention to your handiwork.

1. Stabilize the zipper area with a strip of silk organza, chiffon crepe de chine or non-stretch, fusible interfacing. This prevents distorting and rippling over time. Gently tack in place along the foldline.

2. Pin the closed zipper in place from the garment's right side. Starting at the zipper's upper right-hand side, center the folded edge of the fabric over the zipper pull and teeth. Lower the tape at the top to accommodate the pull; it will look right if you keep the stitches at an even distance from the fabric's folded edge.

3. Sew with a doubled thread. Starting at the top of the tape, stitch the zipper (unzipped) with a prickstitch on the fabric's right side. A prickstitch is a variation on the backstitch where you backtrack only slightly. The goal is to just barely see a bead of thread at each stitch. Stitches spaced 3/8 inch apart and from the zipper's opening work well.

4. Make a stitch just below the open seam of the zipper and tie a knot; stitching across the zipper's base is unnecessary and only invites puckers. Next, stitch the zipper's other side. Start at the bottom left of the zipper and sew to the top. It's common to find a slight mismatch of the two zipper tape sides at the top edges, but it's easy to mask with the waistband or facing. If the mismatch is more than slight (if the fabric is distorted), take out your stitches and restitch.

Overheard in the Blogsphere

2008-05-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

'A Cork accent is one of the most horrific sounds that can be inflicted upon the human ear. It's right up there with Welsh.'

-er, right. This made me laugh because it was written by a Galwegian, and I have family in both places (Cork and Galway) and I also speak Welsh, but I know that yer man means the Welsh accent in English.

It reminds me of a true story that happened to my husband, who when in Wales as a young man was talking to an ould fella, asking directions if memory serves, and couldn't understand a blind word he was saying, and asked him to speak English, not Welsh, to which yer man replied (listen, sing-song)
'I'm not speaking Welsh!'

All my wee anes are awa to Ireland this summer for a holiday, so I have been loading them up on such sallies. My eldest, Lord Flasheart, was last there on a pubcrawl with cousins and friends a couple of years back. My youngest (daht(h)urh) is well aware that she is of legal drinking age there. Musha!

Spinster

2008-05-02T20:38:00.000-07:00

I came home this evening to my rabbit, Asphodel, having a long extra tail of loose fur. On the phone to my eldest son just then, I shrieked and rang off, terrified that this was some effect of the possibly uncaught mouse. In the event, his backside was only shedding and he had been grooming himself (although he was not happy with my help at that task.)

I removed more just now, and was reminded on how when I was in Ireland doing fieldwork for my thesis, I collected stray wool off of fences and bog-cotton wherever it occured, and hand-spun it (sans spindle or wheel) in the evenings after the same child above was asleep, talking in the lounge with my hosts at various places.

I learnt spinning on a drop-spindle, that most ancient of implements, but fibres can literally be spun by hand, and in my sewing box is yet a fair (tapestry) size skein of wool from those long ago days. It just seemed natural among the sea birds and clochans of the West of Ireland, when I was a young woman.

When I took up spinning on a wheel it came as the most natural thing in the world. A old folk-memory arose, perhaps due to the brown Hebridean wool I was using. It knitted up beautifully, waterfast in the grease. This homely activity, then and now, brought the old hard traditional life of the Blasket Islands to mind. They were inhabited until the 1950s by an Irish speaking population, at the veriest edge of modernity, but it was a precarious life, in no way romantic, except to one like your humble servant.

Beannachta De'

Hussif

2008-05-02T19:49:00.000-07:00

'Hussif' - OED definition: case for needles, thread etc. standard issue to British servicemen until sometime around the 1950s, after which time economies resulted in them having to provide their own. Roughly sewn from a rectangle of fabric, with one pocket, a needle-rest, and calico tape ties, it was nevertheless obviously ideal for its purpose and very long-lived.

When I was in Switzerland, I was hugely impressed by the cleanliness of everything. From farmhouses to therapists houses, they were spotless. No one had servants, and everyone had jobs and pets.

All jokes of late about cleaning like a Dutch housewife made me ponder the habits which full time work has caused me to drop. When I was growing up, dishes were washed immediately after dinner, the floor was swept and bins emptied, before anyone played cards, read a book or did needlework or a jigsaw puzzle. When I was a young mother of three small children under five, I followed the Hints from Heloise (cribbed from Karen Pryor's Nursing Your Baby) about keeping things tidy with little ones: When everyone has gone to work, school or down for a nap, take a paper bag and clear up all the rubbish take; take all items that go into one room into that room; put the breakfast dishes into soak. Take a wad of toilet paper and douse it in alcohol, wiping down the bathroon fixtures. Wash the dishes. sweep the floor.

Sanity. Tidiness - it being necessary to sanity to me, given that my ancestral home was always orderly and spotless, even my mother's sewing room.

So I timed all this, just now: washing up the dishes, tidying, dusting sweeping: for four rooms, it took half and hour. That's less than eight minutes per room. Adjust for your own number of rooms or mounds of dishes accordingly. An Irish friend of mine (wife of Nobel prizewinner) used to add a damp mop of the kitchen to this - another five minutes.

You too can be a Dutch Housewife in less than an hour a day, even while working full time. I'm not saying the place will stay this way (and don't even enter the teenagers' rooms!) but at least you have a lovely house for a few minutes.

Strewth

2008-05-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

Where's the cook? Is supper ready, the house trimm'd,
rushes strew'd, cobwebs swept, the serving-men in
their new fustian, their white stockings, and
every officer his wedding-garment on?
Be the jacks fair within, the jills fair
without, the carpets laid, and everything in order?
- The Taming of the Shrew.

The mouse crisis apparently over after a mere eight days, I must give credence to the non-toxic methods used to obtain such a miracle. In the first instance, it was only one poor blighter, who came in at the electrical box hole in the kitchen floor (I live in a 1920s house), which greatly cuts down on the headache.

Secondly, Franciscan though I am, I draw the line of humaneness at vermin that cause plague. Suffice it to say that Lady Boyd here has experience enough in other times and places with plague. So I resorted to glue traps, peanut butter, aspirin, running the cleaning cycle on the oven, and, lastly, peppermint oil. Neither hide nor hair nor any other part of mousedom has been seen since. Deo Gratias. Somehow I think that Margaret Boyd, the sister of King James IV of Scotland, would be proud.

Peppermint was in former times a strewing herb - that is, thrown upon the rushes - along with others (rosemary, thyme, wormwood, and rue among which) to discourage vermin of all sorts. These herbs are antiseptic and known vermifuges. Happen you haven't rushes or rush matting or your family object to living in 17th Century splendour, you can use the essential oil of these herbs, dropped upon a candle or other contrivance, to have the same effect.

NB: Rushes can also be made into Brigid's crosses upon the proper season.

God ye go'den

Blodeuedd

2008-05-01T08:45:00.000-07:00

Happy May Day to all!
Blodeuedd (meaning 'flower face') is a Persephone type maiden in the Mabinogi. I thought of her today because the prayer for today said, in part 'May the blessing of the Flower Bride...be with me.'

In this merry month of May - Sumer is a cumin in - there is much new activity, working through the much too long winter, germinating in spring, passing along to this bright day. A reorientation of my life to its rootedness: domesticity, crafts, herbs. Look for news of all these here.

A laundry list of works in progress: working on a bespoke kilt for my eldest son, my daughter's prom dress, frillies for self, the victory garden project, Dutch housecleaning, and ridding house of mice by natural means.

My dear friend Salena has suggested writing a book on the above, ala Mrs. Beeton. I am delighted with the idea. It begins here. Send in your recipies and household hints (preferably old)!

Unite and unite, and let us all unite
For summer is a-comin' today
And whither we are going we all will unite
In the merry morning of May

-Padstow, Traditional Cornish

Caps

2007-08-08T14:46:00.000-07:00

Being on holiday these two days to take my bunny to the vet - neutering - I have spent the time cutting out caps from the black batiste I bought recently for the purpose. Two yards of 44" wide fabric will make one grand coiffe and five 18th C caps (several with lappets because I am swooningly fond of them) - none of which is a pinner - and one mediaeval coif; of the latter, I have two already, but there was a bit of extra fabric, so waste not want not. One of the caps is identical to the one worn by Mother Seton; but my intention, but nice.

All these are to be made by hand, but not at night because I am quite blind these days. The patterns, which I've had for dogs' years, are from Carolina Stitches in Time, got at Lacis in Berkeley. The coiffe had no pattern, as it is pretty much a big triangle with the apex cut off. I lengthened the lappets, because, as noted above, I am mad about them.

Books

2007-08-04T08:30:00.000-07:00

I belong to an 18th Century group list - sheer indulgence! - and in the last two days, two separate lists, one of novels and one of clothing resources, have appeared; I include them here. The novels are not 18th C. novels, but historical novels set in the 18th Century. Msrs. Swift, Sterne, Richardsdon, et al, need no introduction.

Clothing and embroidery:
Linda Baumgarten -What Clothes Reveal, Costume Close Up, Eighteenth C Clothing at Williamsburg
Stella Blum - 18th C French Fashions in Full Color
Koda and Bolton -Dangerous Liaisons, Ceaseless Century
Beth Gilgun - Tidings from the 18th C
Tandy & Hersh - Cloth & Costume (the Cumerland Co. Hist. Soc)
Sharon Ann Burnston -Fitting & Proper
Mara Riley -Whatever Shall I Wear?
Nancy Bradfield -Costume in Detail
Janet Arnold -Patterns of Fashion
Norah Waugh- the Cut of Women’s Clothes 1600-1930, Corsets and Crinolines
Edward Maeder -An Elegant Art
Avril Hart -Fashion in Detail
Suzanne & Andre Gouse- Costume in New France, a Visual Dictionary
Merideth Wright- Everyday Dress of Rural America 1783-1800
Ellen Gehret -Rural Penna Clothing
Marsh, Gail -18th Century Embroidery Techniques
Anne Buck -Dress in 18c England
(I have most of these myself!)

Novels
Cameron Judd - The Border Men, The Canebrake Men, The Overmountain Men
Janice Holt Giles - Hannah Fowler, The Kentuckians, and The Land Beyond the Mountains.
Conrad Richter - A Light in the Forest, The Trees, The Fields, The Town. (excellent - I read them in high school.)
Thomas Fleming. Liberty Tavern; Dreams of Glory
James Fennimore Cooper. The Spy; The Pilot
Kenneth Roberts. almost anything, especially Oliver Wiswell
Ellswyth Thane
William Gilmore Simms wrote many novels set in the Revolution and others, such as Yemasee, set earlier in the 18th century. The Forayers is chronologically the first of his Rev War novels

Huzzah

Bathing Costume

2007-07-25T20:51:00.000-07:00

Over on a plain dress group I am a member of, there is a discussion of the latest in muslim swimwear - the burquini. It amounts to a tunic with or without sleeves, with or without long-sleeved undershirt, and leggings.

I hate leggings. Having spent years in tights as a dancer, I have had quite enough of showing off my legs. So I was wondering how the tunic with sleeves affair would look with loose knee-length drawers... and realised (here we go again!) that it was a bathing costume from the 1910s. Must have been a past life. In any event, this is more or less what I have in mind:

I do have a wonderful 1930s bathing suit, which to modern eyes is very modest... but it has big pink and brown flowers on it - on a green background - and is much too uncovered for my current needs. So here we go, backward to that incredibly amazing summer of 1914, when the weather in Europe was perfect, even in Dublin. Until the guns of August.

She is watching by the poplars,
Colinette with the sea-blue eyes,
She is watching and longing and waiting,
Where the long white roadway lies.
And a song stirs in the silence,
As the wind in the boughs above,
She listens and starts and trembles,
'Tis the first little song of love:

Roses are shining in Picardy,
In the hush of the silver dew,
Roses are flow'ring in Picardy,
But there's never a rose like you!
And the roses will die with the summertime,
And our roads may be far apart,
But there's one rose that dies Not in Picardy!
'Tis the rose that I keep in my heart!

Another gown and nostalgia

2007-07-25T18:09:00.001-07:00

I forgot this one yesterday. Of the whole period, I have to say that the late 1780s and 90s and this are my favourite styles. I have made the Regency gown in many incarnations for others, for wedding gowns, dressing gowns, First Communion dress (my Bridgie) - for myself it did its turn in the maternity and nursing period. I like the neat lines of it, the grace.

Of other periods, I do like 1900 through the late 1930s, but there are styles I don't feel that I can wear anymore without looking like mutton dressed as lamb, and much of that in the 1910s is among them, alas. It is a very girlish manner of dress. Some of the tubular 20s dresses I must avoid also, as I just look boxy, but I'm right on with the 30s. Much of my work wardrobe still is chic 20s, 30s and early 40s - when not Edwardian.

Whenever I am called upon to play Mother of the Bride (or Groom) I have a pattern from the early 30s that I will use, with an interesting cut, jewel neck, asymetrical drapery across the bodice - very smart. But I refuse to wear pastel! I adored the Queen Mum, but that is not my look - even though by then my hair will probably be much lighter than this present ginger-fade-to-blonde. No, it will be jewel tones - I can make an exception for my kids' weddings - and in the glam retro style I used to wear. I will wear a hat. My whole life I have always been the only woman at weddings and funerals in a hat.

... Once, during the Christmas season, I was walking into a shop wearing a 1930s polka-dot dress (purple), my green velveteen hat, swish overcoat and gloves, and seamed stockings that day, and I heard the guy behind me whisper to his wife 'she does Swing Dancing...' I did, but it was cute to hear. At this time there were several of us retros in the Financial District, including a man in my office building who always wore the scrummiest suits - and a hat any time he was outdoors. He wasn't especially handsome, but oh my, did he have dash and style!

designs

2007-07-24T18:25:00.001-07:00

Following are the designs I made for 'day wear at home' - except that the first one here following is intended as a Sunday dress. It is based on a mourning gown from 1768, and is a 'sacque-backed gown'

To go with it, there is a cape or tippet, based on that worn by Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton, St Elizabeth Seton, more on whom below:

I'm leaving the options open on the next one about the waist - a slightly higher waist was certainly period, and is in any case flattering to most women. having a gathered overlay is both for modesty and to get that period 'shepherdess' look without hanging out all over.

For the longest while I thought the late 1820s-30s look was odd, dowdy, neither fish nor fowl nor good red herring. Then I saw some Aesthetic Dress gowns and changed my mind. My new 'Christmas dress' is basically in this mode. I want more!

Now, I am under certain constraints in matters of dress, both vowed and by choice. In the Third Order, we are adjured to dress plainly in inexpensive stuffs, avoiding anything that is ostentatious, vain or costly. This, to my mind, naturally includes modesty, but does not actually fall under the requirements of dress in Canon Law (a neckline no more than two or three finger-breadths beneath the collarbone, elbow-length sleeves, dresses at least 8 inches below the knee.) Modest is pretty easy for me; plain is not. Like Hester Prynne, I have a 'rich Oriental fancy', and my favourite colours are scarlet and forest green. Not very modest or plain! When I became a Franciscan I limited myself to brown, charcoal grey, black, and dark green (alas not my favourite but olive.) Because I am a penitent, it feels fitting. But it is so very hard! Daily, I offer it up to God, as I look with envy others' embroidery, lace, or clever knitting.

As for Mother Seton, she is my patron saint, rather than someone more obvious like Clare or Brigid, because she was born in 1774, was a convert (as was I as a teenager) and she was beatified on the day I was born. Of the cape: when she was widowed in Italy, the Fillicis - her beloved William's friends - gave her Italian widow's garb: her little bonnet, the cape and a long-sleeved gown. This was something for the former Miss Bayley of New York! At any rate, Mother was religious anyway and was in Italy very drawn to Catholicism. When she returned to NY, she converted from the Episcopal Church, founded an Order (of necessity - she was desperately poor and needed to teach) and died quite young. Little was I to know as a young girl how close Mother's life would be to my own, in terms of grief. But I still hear her whispering to me, I still draw comfort from her person. So the little cape is a tribute to her.

The Influence of Literature, and other Oddments

2007-07-24T11:26:00.000-07:00

Per blessed Susanna’s request, shortly I shall be posting some renderings of day gowns – having capitulated to my fancies and completely gone off modern dress. This is not a new experience; it has been with me since I was a small child, as my sainted mother could attest.

When I was in high school we had copies of Norah Waugh’s ‘The Cut of Women’s Clothes’ and I pored over it, making tracings, patterns, and my own designs, mostly from the 1630s-1840. It was the inner portions of garments which fascinated me (and continues to do)- tapes, hooks, manner of linings, and minute stitches. I was in heaven. I annoyed my Home Economics teacher by making a shift and mid-18thC day gown, when everyone else were making tops and trousers. She didn’t know what to make of me, and couldn’t critique what I was making because she knew nothing about it, so I failed the course!

When I was in college, we had all of Janet Arnold’s ‘Patterns of Fashion’, which I likewise devoured. I became quite a dab hand at pattern draughting, of necessity, if one can call an obsession with pre-Civil War garments a necessity. I annoyed my cohorts in the Costume Department of our theatre with my tiny machine stitches (20-30 per inch) – but it was the only way I could replicate the fine stitching of the past – and the requisite ‘bought items’ 8-10 stitches per inch I thought hopelessly vulgar and coarse.

I was enthralled with PBS, which in those days actually presented good quality programmes – from The Six Wives of Henry the VIII to The Mill on the Floss (and yes, Upstairs Downstairs) I was enchanted. Being a voracious reader, I had already run through all of the Brontes (including Patrick’s ‘lost novel’), Jane Austen, George Elliot, Elizabeth Gaskell, Swift, Sterne, Hawthorne and Cooper. And through all, the clothing fascinated me. I wanted to wear it, because I felt ‘at home’ therein – in dress or undress clothes.

Withal, it is no wonder that I ended up as a Person of the Past at Colonial Williamsburg and made many of my own pieces (we were allowed to do, but they had to be approved.) It had been my dream to work there since I was a child – in the heyday of ‘hostesses’ – what a vulgar come-down since! – but my dear Lady Washington said then and since that it was a good thing I never was shunted away in the Costume Design Centre, for I would have been frustrated, and wasted.

I saw what she meant, for I did have my run-ins with them – over a dark green petticoat with a fine flowered muslin gown, over the binding of a 1780 pair of stays (both of which I had the documentation for), and, for my part, over the ‘coarse and vulgar’ stuffs used for caps. Of the latter, in period paintings, one sees caps gossamer and exquisite – why could they not be made thus? ‘Not durable’ I was told; ‘too difficult’ I was told. But I wanted what I wanted – the beautifully made pieces my fancy conjured from the pages of period literature, reinforced by extant examples of period garments.

Was I insane? Possibly. But if so, I was in good company, as the commitment to authenticity was about to become a huge issue in the insular world of re-enactment. Such attention to authenticity is now a given, and farby ‘impressions’ are not widely tolerated, except as Hallowe’en costumes. We have come a long way. But not far enough, to my taste. As a friend of mine at Williamsburg (the Rev, Mr. Henley) once said ‘every year our modern life grows farther from the everyday life of the 18th century, and what we represent becomes ever-increasingly incomprehensible to visitors.’ It is true of any period prior to the supersonic age.

What I find myself wanting, in the midst of cell phones and computers, iPhones, email, and telemarketers, is to switch off, live simply, write letters, bake bread, boil water, hang the washing on the line. John Donne once wrote complaining of the noise of a fly in the room in which he was writing. S’truth! Would we even notice now? I want life not to fly by in ‘information age’ nanobites. I want peace and quiet and the pleasure of an hour’s stitching, of reading an old book, of actually waiting 6 hours to have bread from wild yeast.

Time wastes too fast: every letter I trace tells me with what rapidity Life follows my pen; the days and hours of it, more precious, my dear Jenny! than the rubies about thy neck, are flying over our heads like light clouds of a windy day, never to return more – everything presses on – whilst thou art twisting that lock, – see! it grows grey; and every time I kiss thy hand to bid adieu, and every absence which follows it, are preludes to that eternal separation which we are shortly to make.
-Lawrence Sterne, Tristram Shandy

Domestic Life (Works in Progress)

2007-07-11T14:21:00.000-07:00

In the wake of having sorted out the ‘summer clothing ration’ – the several items of work clothes I got the stuff for recently – it became time to make lists, begin new projects, and finish old ones.

Some of the old projects are:
-an Aesthetic dress in a yallery green leaf print, which I can wear at Christmas as a ‘dress gown’ (I never wear prints any more.)
-a stumpwork rendition of The Scarlet Letter (my lifelong obsession.)
-frame a repro Williamsburg sampler from the 1760s
-a pair of 1780s maternity stays (to go with a gown for a teaching project)
- a canvas chair cover for my friend Lady Washington (motifs only)

Those in progress are:
-ruching for a Swiss dirndl
-an altar cloth for our chapel at work

To be made up:
- a 17th C. Dutch wedding sampler for my friend’s 20th anniversary (her husband is Dutch)
- a queen stitch pinball for my friend Lady Washington (I must be insane)
- an Irish stitch pocketbook, ditto.

Then there is a new ‘Grand Coiffe’ in black batiste, to wear to Mass so people will not think I am a nun. I was searching about madly for an acceptable alternative to my plain black gauze half-circle veil, which to me was as Franciscan and un-nunlike as could be.

I have tried so hard to keep away from lace mantillas, ‘chapel veils’ (as being too much like an 18th C. pinner), and in general anything that savoured of the 18th C, precisely because I have done so much living history in the period and I didn’t want people to think I was obsessed; as those re-enactors who cannot readjust to the modern world, who haven’t a ‘real life’. And yet, one day, this solution in the form of the old coif appeared as a bolt from the blue, though I had seen it many times. It just felt ‘right’. I chose black because it is both as far from the re-enactor or Anabaptist as I could make, and because I am not twelve years old – which is my argument against white or cream Mass coverings in general.

Since deciding on this solution, my fancy has been devising all manner of day dresses in the 1780-1830 period – familiar and beloved. Necessary? Most certainly not. I have kept my made items to 1900-1948, which until recently was at least in the right century. Nevertheless, my heart is drawn to more remote periods – the 17th and early 18th centuries in specific. But even I recognise that any such garb, even as ‘undress’ wear would be way over the top.

When I worked at Williamsburg, Tasha Tudor was a frequent visitor and an especial friend of my dear Mr. Jefferson; I envied Miss Tudor’s being able to wear exactly what she pleases, which as everyone knows is not modern.

When I am an old woman I shall wear caracoes and round gowns; but for now I will content me with embroidery.

Mystery Prezzies Solved!

2007-05-07T18:13:00.000-07:00

I received a package today from the Embroiderers' Guild in the UK. I was instantly suspicious. I didn't order anything, it's not my birthday (though Mother's Day is coming up) and the books were too clearly for me. Additionally, I had been looking at one of the books - on Assisi work - online a few weeks ago, and decided against it in favour of saving up for a more traditional one.

The typical modern Brit block lettering of the address label was no help; everyone from my ex-husband to the latest confirmande at church writes that way (I have been chided for stubbornly maintaining a 19th C. Spencerian script, chided because people 'can't read it'.) The signature on the Customs declaration was no help either. The postmark - East Molesey -just sounded like something out of Wind in the Willows. I asked my family, who either are very good actors (possible) or were genuinely ignorant (I favoured the former.)

I stared at the address in despair and confusion for a while (for if I bought these items I should like to know it when the charge comes in.) Ah, middle age! What did I come in here for? I stared at the address some more; hoping it would deliver up its secret message to me, like a ciper becoming clear and obvious. Apt. 41 Hampton Court Palace, Surrey. At last, the penny dropped: I have a friend travelling in the UK, and before she left she mentioned that she was going to Hampton Court and would look at the embroideries there on my behalf.

The books are these:
Assisi Work: a New Approach by Maggie Phillips;
Ladies' Dress Accessories[19th C.] by Eleanor Johnson;
101 Celtic Spirals and 101 Celtic Borders by Courtney Davis

The last time anyone sent me anything from Blighty (apart from my former suitor, bringing over jars of Marmite foraged at Tesco's in the middle of the night), it was a picture postcard of Ellen Terry by G.F. Watts from the Tate Gallery, from my dear Lady Washinton, because 'it looks like you.'
It takes so little to make this old-fashioned girl swoon!

The Dress

2007-04-19T20:41:00.000-07:00

Pictures do not do this va-voom dress justice. The lace has sparkly stuff on the inside, which adds just a hint of bling (perfect for those mirror ball dancefloors), and the silk shines through in the light. It is spectacular.
And in it, my dear Bridgie looks as fab as her grandmother and mine (who were and are dishy.)

I'll be seeing you in all the old familiar places.....

Casalguidi

2007-04-17T18:58:00.000-07:00

I have ordered a new book today, after nearly a year of no new needlework books, and it is Casalguidi Style Linen Embroidery by Effie Mitrofanis, which is back in print.

I first encountered Casalguidi in the Embroiderers Guild. Someone brought in an illuminated letter for our group project in purple hand-dyed variegated Casalguidi. I was enchanted by the stitch, being a fan of stumpwork, which it resembles. I admit that, as an embroiderer, I like the look of 'art' embroidery, with unstructured shapes and wild colours - for other people's houses. I would only make something like that for a gift for someone I was sure liked the style. After looking at some pretty 'rich and strange' Casalguidi work in needlwork mags, I chanced on the 'real thing', the old style, which was of whitework.

Here, my traditional embroidery-loving heart went 'Ah....' For it is a style full of familiar whitework stitches, worked on a ground of pulled thread (four-sided, or 'nun's' stitch), with double buttonhole bars, bullion knots, detached buttonhole, as wells as the woven bars, picots and other fillings familiar from Reticella work.

It is not an old technique, dating only from the late 19th century, during the general revival of Italian needlework; but it was very popular up through the 1920s and 30s, especially for bags, as can be seen in the photo cover of Miss Mitrofanis' book. There are the most wonderful bobbles and fringes! All traditional to Casalguidi.

So there is another sampler in my future, as well as a technique to add to the store for liturgical garments.

No Idle Hands - A Beginning

2007-04-15T21:57:00.000-07:00

I begin this new blog from my Franciscan site, Fioretta to spcifically discuss needlework projects of every kind, as well as modest dress.

This is from Fioretta:
My daughter St. Brigid's prom dress is finished (a lovely 1950s cocktail dress of black chantilly lace over sapphire blue dupioni silk), likewise the theatre project, so what did I do with my first day off in weeks? Went fabric shopping! JoAnn's was having a sale on calico, so I got enough stuff for some work skirts, a blouse, and a day dress. This was needful for several reasons: my one good black skirt has become too ratty to wear to work; I need a day dress in something besides wool; I have one longsleeved blouse. Also, I am at the stage in life where age is beginning to catch up with me, in terms of a changing figure. Nothing in the shops fits all my requirements for modesty, fabric, and price. Nothing fits at all - it's either all size 2 or 22, made for stick figures or the, er, Zaftig. I fall somewhere in the middle, with a British figure that American clothes have never fit (greater hip to waist ratio.) Because of this, I have always made my own clothes, or worn vintage things, but I have had nothing new in a long while.

A couple of years ago, I was dismayed in looking at present sizes in shops. HOW did I become a size 4? I haven't been a size 4 since I was 14 years old. Now, according to the standard sizing, I am a 12, but in the shops it's an 8 or 10. I'm confused! I notice, in looking at vintage dressingmaking site (see title links) that the sizes were much more reasonable, and not everybody was a size 0. The smalled waist was a (corsetted) 22 in 1917, the largest a (corsetted) 40, with the hip measures being 36 and 58 respectively. Real people! As one sees in all those vintage photographs.

In the event, I have made up one of my favourite Edwardian skirts in a nice charcoal grey, in what might be described as 'low calf length'. I'm looking forward to the rest, all in acceptably earthy colours.