Deciphering Historical Clothes: Czech wristwarmers from the 1880s

The HSM theme for March is Protection. Looking through my pins of Czech historical garments, I was left uninspired in that regard. (I try to focus on Czech collections in this series now, because it's a good way for me to study and showcase my own country's history!) Until I remembered an item I'd already wracked my head about, an item that protects from cold, so it fits the theme beautifully. Even more so because we've got snow now! Makes my plans of finishing a straw hat or covering an umbrella / parasol kind of less attractive than taking up my needles...

Yep, I'm doing a different thing this time around: I'm looking at a knit garment. Well, an accessory of a super-simple not-shaped kind; but made interesting with lots of colours.

Apologies to my non-knitting readers, and a warm welcome to those who knit. :-) I'm still something of a beginner intermediate in the world of knitting, but things like this inspire me to get better!

There isn't much knitting to be found in Czech online collections so far, sadly; it seems knitting, on the whole, wasn't such a big part of Czech folk culture as it tends to be in colder climates. Or at least not big enough for museum collectors to focus on it. :P But I've still found a few very interesting things (notably, Moravian Wallachian socks!). And one very, very striking thing was this pair of patterned wristwarmers that not only uses seven colours, but one of those colours is even metallic silver!

Knitted wristwarmers, wool and silver metalic thread, Czech lands, 1880s. The ethnographic collections of Národní muzeum, ID: H4-5999ab

Not a sort of thing you'd see in Moravian Wallachia, I think. The description on Esbirky unfortunately does not specify where exactly these do come from; but it does give another very helpful detail for deciphering and possible recreating: the dimensions. Cca 20 cm around and 12 cm long. I'd slate them for a woman's wristwarmers based on that, although that's obviously just a guess.

Looking at the opening in the big photo and counting very carefully, I've arrived at the tentative stitch count of 88 stitches: it seems to be somewhere in the area between 80 and 90, and it has to be divisible by four (because of the patterning). It doesn't strike you immediately from looking at the photo, but it also has to be a small gauge (and given the density of the knit, likely a combination of tiny needles and slightly thicker yarn, my favourite way to knit :D): 88 stitches in 20 cm gives me the approximate gauge of 11 stitches per inch. (<= 44 stitches per 10 cm / 4 inches)
The silver threads are somewhat thinner than the wools, and distort the knitting.

It's knitted flat: notice the seaming inside.  UPDATE MANY YEARS LATER: I'm actually not sure what I was looking at - it's just the "step" you get from joining to knit in the round and not bothering to correct for that...

Knitted wristwarmers, wool and silver metalic thread, Czech lands, 1880s. The ethnographic collections of Národní muzeum, ID: H4-5999ab

Notice also that the museum photographed one of the wristwarmers upside down. The trick to deciphering a knit garment is first and foremost looking closely and deciding where upside/downside is. Much like the grainlines in woven fabrics. In the above photo, it's the piece on the right that's upside up.

"Fair Isle" knitting is fun and easy to decipher, especially on a "flat" object like this, because you can see the individual stitches clearly and really all you have to do is chart it out... It's the purled beginnings and ends of the knitting that gave me some trouble here, and I had to resort to trying it out.

My first two-coloured attempts weren't very promising:

It actually is super simple - it's just garter stitch - but I still struggle with visualising how multi-coloured purls work... When I switched to my final mock-up in the actual colours, I still had to unravel it a few times, and as you can see, I still made a mistake in the upper section of it (it should end up looking like orange-yellow, not yellow-orange). But it's a mistake small and obvious enough for me to know how it should really go.
(My yellow is much thinner than my green and therefore distorted in that section, but it's correct.)
 

I knitted this test piece with 12 stitches, in yarns calling for cca 3 mm needles according to the maker (most of them are remnants of unknown description, though), on 2,5 mm needles, and it came out 5 cm wide, so for the original size, you'll want to go about half that...

* * *

So, here goes the pattern as deciphered. If there are any experienced knitters among you, used to English charting conventions etc., I would appreciate knowing if this makes sense to you or if you'd write/do some things differently.

If you want to knit this in the round, just knit every "wrong side" row of the garter stitch sections instead of purling them. In my experience, stranded colourwork is easier in the round; but to be historically accurate to the original, flat knitting it is. (AHEM)

Beginning in garter stitch
cast a number of stitches divisible by 4, in red (88 with a gauge of 11 st / inch for the original size)
1. (right side) purl red
2. (wrong side) purl orange
3. (r) purl orange
4. (w) purl 2 stitches in yellow, purl 2 in green, repeat
5. (r) purl 2 stitches in green, purl 2 in yellow, repeat
6. (w) purl red
7. (r) purl red
---------------------------

Stranded colourwork in stockinette
66 rows, starting on the wrong side
(The museum description says the rows of motifs repeat thrice, but they don't really, which was the original reason I tried to decipher it. :D)
Chart starts at the bottom. Grey stands for silver, obviously. The blue dots at the side indicate fifth rows, red dots indicate tenth rows, for greater ease of keeping track and count.

---------------------------

End in garter stitch
1. (w) purl red
2. (r) purl red
3. (w) purl yellow
4. (r) purl orange
5. (w) purl red
6. (r) purl bind off in red

* * *

In case you are wondering, I made the chart in MS Paint by magnifying, utilising the grid and the pencil tool to colour individual pixels in the magnified grid, and then hitting PrintScreen and working with that as my picture afterwards. It's a quick and "cheap" method, and it made charting very easy with opening the MS Paint window on top of the photo of the original. If I do this more often, though, I'd probably prepare myself a grid to colorise (using the Can of Paint tool in that case), skipping the magnifying and PrintScreening, because it comes out a bit small this way (so I can't insert any notes and stuff into the chart itself if they are necessary).


One day, I'll make these wristwarmers and post this pattern to Ravelry so that there will be a traditional Czech pattern out there. *rubs her hands with a supervillain snigger*

Deciphering Historical Clothes: 1830s silk wrap day dress

I've decided to try and do a Deciphering post for each month this year, to go with the Historical Sew Monthly challenges. Now, these are not going to be the same thing, not even remotely, as Leimomi's inspiration posts. For one thing, with each garment of the month, I doubt the beginning of the month is enough time for anyone interested to gather all materials and make the garment in time - and that's assuming I manage to post it in the beginning of the month every time or that my deciphering is enough to get you started. The challenges simply provide me with a good starting point in looking for decipherable garments.

I'll also try to focus on garments in Czech collections, although we'll see how that goes...

The Czech Regency stays from Příbram seem like a very good "entry" for January's theme of Procrastination - it took me about four years to make mine!

For February's "Pleats & Tucks" challenge, I turn to a garment I've posted about on this blog before - the wrap day dress that I saw in an exhibition in Dačice, which I posted about here. 

Photography was allowed at that exhibition (not usually a given in the Czech Republic!) and thanks to the setup, I even managed to snatch a back view of the bodice (not always a given, either!). The description said that it came from the collections of Prácheňské muzeum in Písek, but since then, I've come across a photo in Centrální evidence sbírek that shows a dress so suspiciously similar I'm 99,99 % sure it's the same one, and places it in Třebíč, so... probably a misattribution at the Dačice exhibition? (There were other garments from Třebíč there, too.) I'll come back to that photo from CES, because it shows more of the construction! It also says it's made from silk taffetta, which is a fairly safe guess anyway with this period and this look, but it's good to know.

It was one of my favourite garments in that exhibition - a rather boring yellowish brown shade, but exquisite construction with an eye for detail, so I was inspired to take detailed photos even at the time. For which I am grateful now, because there is so much going on with the construction that I can draw inspiration from, even if I never make this particular dress!

Going by the shape of the sleeves, with the puff lower in the sleeve, I would guess it's from later in the decade; you can even come across such puffs in fashion plates from early 1840s. In this particular exhibition, or the photo on CES, the puffs are not very pronounced, but I've come across a photo from another exhibition in Znojmo where there's yet again a garment so suspiciously similar to this one I think it might be the same one... where they'd gone for an arrangement of the sleeves that makes them puffier. I guess it depends on how long the arms of the wearer actually were (and therefore suspect it is supposed to be puffier).
Other than the basic shape, the above overall photo (especially if blown up to full size) shows rather well that there are two darts in the bodice on each side, sitting more to the sides than they would on later garments.

So how would this amazingly detailed thing go together? That's where the opportunity to take more detailed photos (or look at more detailed photos on a museum site, if available) comes in handy.

 

Just this half-photo gives you more details: it shows the lie of the pleats on the sleeves (knife pleats towards the back in the upper section and, if I'm not mistaken, towards the front in the lower section) and in the skirt (flat / box pleat in the front and then knife pleats towards the back) - in fact, it shows you that the sleeves are pleated rather than some other form of gathering. And that the edges of the collar are piped. Twice, in fact. It also hints that the sleeves close on the inside seam in the bottom section - you can see the edge overlapping. It also shows the fabric loop on the belt that the belt end goes through.
I can see more in this photo itself, actually, but let's keep it simple for now, because I have more detailed photos coming...

Here's the lower sleeves with more details. It proves my theory that the lower sleeve pleats are facing towards the front. It also shows the bands that hold them down: they consist of two rows of piping / cording. Now, this is a conjecture, but I would suggest they were made in a manner similar to this tutorial by Kelly of Tea in a Teacup.
It also shows the closure: fabric covered buttons and fabric loops (most of the buttons seem to be lost, but you can see one closed button and one orphaned loop in the upper photo.)
There is also very fine piping along the cuff and the slit in the sleeve. It is seen more clearly in the second photo. This sort of treatment would definitely require a finely woven fabric and really good skills in handling it!
The fabric and my photos don't alow me to see the grainlines quite as clearly as I would wish to, but when I look at the upper part of the sleeve on the photos and at the behaviour of the pleats on the bottom, I am fairly sure the sleeve is cut in such a manner that the bottom at the very least lies on the bias - see how the pleats look a bit "twisted", or seem to have creases running diagonally across the way they are sitting? Pleats done on the straight of grain don't do that. :-)
Cutting sleeves on the bias was a common practice at the time, as demonstrated by the pattern diagrams in The Workwoman's Guide (p. 346). (In fact, I would suggest perusing that publication as an excellent primary source if you ever wanted to re-make this dress.)

Deciphering historical clothes: Czech supportive (under)garments - Now edited with more info!

I've found it!

What did I find, you ask?

Why, Czech Regency/Romantic era soft/corded stays!

It's a big thing, really. Every single Czech book on historical clothing I've ever read just repeated that no corsets were worn in the Empire/Regency era, in a manner that suggests "no supportive undergarments were worn because all women suddenly went carefree and racy", which, after just a little careful examination of the portraits of the era, is obviously incorrect. But I'm not quite so surprised any more, because scouring esbirky.cz yielded very little by way of corsets and stays as such, and even what I've seen of the Central Records of Collections so far shows little (Centrální evidence sbírek, ces.mkcr.cz - a wonderful source, but built so that it's difficult to search for pictures and pretty impossible to link back to individual pages).

But I've found a local example at last! And a very pretty, embroidered example at that, though the quality of the photo leaves a lot to be desired.

Tellingly, the museum calls it a "bodice" - they have no idea what it really is (EDIT: They did not when it was labelled - sorry about the wording, see comments). I wonder if there are more misattributed Regency stays floating around in Czech museums after all? It's like Czech collective memory forgot these were supportive undergarments somewhere along the way, and when historians finally started collecting old garments, they didn't really know what they had on their hands.

"bodice, white, embroidered, with straps, plain weave" in the collections of Hornické muzeum Příbram, ID: H/Et708

Things to note: It says the fabric is "plátno", i.e. plain weave. Quite wide straps, not adjustable, but apparently sewn in only after the top edge was bound (or maybe attached in the process of binding? How I wish I could see more of it.) They also seem to be somewhat slanted, suggesting a later date with a more sloping shoulder neckline? And no busk - instead, there are four narrow bones in the front, most of which seem to have broken out or have been removed at a later date. There's a stitching line next to the boning that might be cording, and I think there's cording in the wavy stalk in the bottom embroidery, but otherwise it seems a very soft construction. The hip gussets are sewn in in what seems a thorough, sturdy manner, with two lines of stitching - it might even be flat-felled seams. And the tips of the bust gussests are strengthened with stitching, probably a buttonhole stitch. There are rows of stitching next to the bust gussets, which I think might be bones (sharp ends, so most likely not cording)? And I think there is, or used to be, a drawstring in the top edge - there seems to be some gathering there.

EDIT: The curator has more details:
"- outer fabric is twill (may be cotton) and lining plain weave (linen)
- straps are re-sewn in the front so it is hard to tell how they work originaly (whether they were adjustable) but in the back they were sewn to body and then bound
- all bones (reeds) are missing, except few fragments
- there is no cording, beside front bones or in the embroidery (it is interesting, the embroidery was done after lining was in place)
- bust gussets do have buttonhole stitch points
- in channels beside bust gussets are white baleens
- there is no drawstring nor channell on the top
About terminology: (sorry, but I was considering it for a while). I think there is nothing wrong about using label "bodice" or "živůtek". Databases should be easily searchable so we are encouraged not to use many labels. Živůtek according to Národopisná encyklopedie Čech a Moravy is "part of woman's dress worn over shift on upper half of body" so all items you listed fall into this category. English "bodice" has mostly the same meaning - period dictionaries describe stay as "kind of bodice" etc."


(Some of this refers to what I wrote below - I'm leaving that text as is for reference.)

Thank you very, very much!

Here's a colour-coded version of my original estimate (I'll replace it with an updated version later):

Gussets
Boning seams
Cording seams
I can't make out the rest of the embroidery properly for outlining - a safer bet would be just to look at the photo and draw out something similar.

The overall style of it points towards a later date, I think - who knows, it might be as late as 1840s, although I'm inclined to think 1820s or thereabouts (no waist shaping yet).

The single, relatively narrow bust gussets suggest to me that this was worn by a lady with a smaller cup size - the shape puts me in mind of my mom, who's the only A- or B-cup in this family, although otherwise sporting a curvy womanly figure with wide hips. I rather like the thought that this was worn by a woman of a similar figure as a Czech woman I know nowadays. :-)

I've never worked with Laughing Moon's Regency Corset pattern myself, but from what I've seen of it online, it seems it could be a really good starting point for recreating this garment, if you were so inclined.

* * *

There is a number of other bodices and stays and corselets in the Příbram collections, and one thing that looks like a swiss waist. There's a lot of bodices that are very clearly folk costume bodices, i.e. meant to be worn on the outside (with embroidery and golden trim and stuff) -  they resemble 1790s stays, as Central Bohemian bodices do, but the fabrics and trim used set them apart. Another tell is the decorative, non-functional "lacing" in the back of many of them.

In the translated descriptions below, I use "corset bodice" for the Czech term "šněrovačka", which, loosely translated, means "laced bodice", but can be used for a whole range of garments from a full-blown waist-reducing corset, through stuff that would probably be called "girdle" in English, to a folk costume bodice. It's my preferred term for Regency stays in Czech, too, by virtue of being fairly all-encompassing and traditional. By virtue of being all-encompassing, the museum descriptions apply it to nearly everything. Except the above. Something tells me that whoever labelled the collection lived under the impression that a "šněrovačka" or corset had to lace in the front, and if it didn't, it had to be a bodice: see also my comment at the end of this post.

"corset bodice, red, silver embroidery, appliqéd trim, with straps, plain weave, leather, metal trim, boning (baleen?), velvet" in the collections of Hornické muzeum Příbram, ID: H/Et706

There are two other garments that throw my knowledge into confusion, and hopefully ultimately forward by that: two garments with the overall approximate shape of 1790s/early 1800s stays, with bust gussets, but they are black-coloured, and one has a silk outer and the other the non-functional lacing in the back. And - this is notable - what appears to be metal grommets (although it's a bit hard to tell with the quality of the photos). They both, however, have the eyelets spaced for spiral-lacing. Are they actual 1790s stays that were later re-used as folk costume bodices, and had their eyelets strengthened with the addition of grommets? Are they 1790s-style stays worn much later than 1790s? Were they folk-costume bodices right from the start, but employing a style not normally found in them (= bust gussets)?

"corset bodice, black, white lining, with straps, cotton, silk, boning" in the collections of Hornické muzeum Příbram, ID: H/Et662

"corset bodice, black, with straps, zig-zag (mock lacing?) in the back, cotton, boning" in the collections of Hornické muzeum Příbram, ID: H/Et709

(The whole collection is awesome. There's also a cap - an actual soft "fashionable" cap with frills and stuff, not a folk costume bonnet, also not something I see often in Czech collections. And what appears to be a "miser's purse" - another Czech first for me! And many other things. Annoyingly, none of it has any dates ascribed. And whoever labeled those things really had no clue about corsetry - there's a corset with a metal busk closure, and it says it goes in the back! It's photographed with the busk in front, as if whoever photographed it had a much better idea than whoever labelled it.)

Deciphering a 1900s corset

Some great news: Uměleckoprůmyslové muzem in Prague put all the photos of their public domain items on esbirky.cz in public domain. Which means you can download big pictures of things like Art Nouveau prints and jewellery. And clothes. Here. ETA 2018-07-31 Sadly now the Esbirky site itself prevents download so even the pictures from museums that originally made it possible are now barricaded up by web design.
Some worse news is, the digitalisation is apparently slow, because there's only a fraction of the clothes I know they could put up. None of their lovely Regency or 1840s clothes yet, no better picture of the 18th century silk corset or 1850s bodice. And the search engine on the esbirky interface is dubious, possibly faulty: when I search for "korzet", it gives me no results, even though I know there is at least one corset there.

This one:

c. 1905, Prague, height 37 cm, inventory number 104484.

Where the 1840s bodice's plain fabric allowed for deciphering, here it's the stripes. And the quality of the image. As I loked at it and tried to figure out the probable shape of the pattern pieces (it's a bit of an automatic mental process by now), I thought "I've seen a corset patent like this."

And indeed, I had. The helpful Haabet site lists them by various criteria such as number of seams at the waist, so it didn't take long to find the one I had in mind.

Mr Albert P. McGraw argues in his accompanying text that this principle of costructing the corset allows for a much faster and economical construction. And that while he provides this particular drawing, the patent applies to the principle rather than the particular shape. I wonder who stole the idea, the Czech manufacturer of the corset above, or Mr McGraw? Or is it just a coincidence?
ETA: Option four? I looked through my book on Czech fashion 1870-1914, published in conjunction with the UPM, just to see what else they have in their collections. And there it was - not this corset, but ads for the "Korset Radical", made by the corset factory Federer & Piesen in Prague, and advertised as using a patented pattern. Patented where, by whom, was there an affiliation? Mysteries!
It explains their dating of the corset, though - the first of those ads, showing a similar one, is from 1905.

Anyway, to complete the deciphering, here's another colour-coded picture, as far as I'm able to tell:

seams between pattern pieces
bones
busk 

I didn't bother with grainlines, for obvious reasons.

It looks like it's more or less the pattern pieces from the patent, with additional strips to cover the busk and for the lacing (as described in the patent's text); with a different boning layout of doubled bones: running over the bust, beside the bust and curving slightly closer to the front in the bottom, at the sides, and probably still more in the back. And additional, unboned pattern pieces in the front and at the hips, probably for garters and maybe also to smooth the hips somewhat, like in later, 1910s corsets. It actually looks like an interesting transitional piece to my eyes inexpert in this period - it retains the hourglass shape, but it's an underbust corset and has that hip action going on. But notice there's more room in the hips than the mannequin has... it's definitely aiming for a very curvy figure rather than the later slim styles. The curving of the boning layout suggests an S-bend.

The lace is, as far as I'm able to tell, simply folded over/gathered around the corners in the front to form that particular shape.

* * *

I hope these types of analyses could be helpful for someone. I really liked when American Duchess did the Costume Analytics, and it turns out I may have a better eye for this kind of thing than some other people, so it gets its own tag, "Deciphering historical clothes." I can't promise it will be a regular feature and I definitely won't promise I'll do what you ask me to do. But I think I would like to know if it really helps, or what may still be confusing, or what else you might need to know if you do have trouble deciphering clothes. :-)

Deciphering an 1840s bodice

Extant clothes are important. They're important for costumers, to see how things went together; but they're also important simply as a document of how people used to live.
Although, being into sewing, I'm particularly interested in how things went together.

Pinterest, on the other hand, is, just as we say about fire in a Czech saying, "a good servant but a bad master". You can find great stuff there, but you always have to be the master and check it out, otherwise you can end up perpetuating a mistake. Where I'm getting with this is, thanks to Pinterest and thanks to at least sometimes actually checking the links, I've found more blogs and museum sites I was unaware of. Some of the best things, it turns out, can be found on Dutch museum sites - like the Regency half robe I posted earlier on this blog.

Or like this super-simple 1840s dress bodice that makes it possible to infer how a basic 1840s bodice goes together, at least in the front (sadly, no back-view).

(It's in the Amsterdam museum, inventory number KA 13119.)

So let's see what I can see:

• where there are basic seams
• where there are piped seams and piped hems
• where the grainlines go
• and where there are hemming stitches (I forgot to mark the bottom - it's less obvious)

It's particularly interesting to see the piping in the front darts. Sometimes, there would be a separate front pattern piece. This one has just darts, though, and seeing the grainlines, they're probably quite narrow, too. And still piped. This might suggest the piping works sort of as cording, to help the seam lie smoothly?

The description (sadly, the website is built in such a way that I can't link directly to the object, boooo!) says there are three bones / pieces of baleen in the front (presumably at the centre seam and the darts?). Then it says something about "zijbalein" on "both sides", which sadly Google translate does not help me decipher - does it refer to the bones in the darts, to the side seams, or something else? There's a drawstring in the neckline (!) that ties in the back. There's a back closure of eleven hooks and eyes, hidden by a band (placket?). There's evidence of an attached skirt, not in the collection.

And it says this simple style of white dress would be an afternoon dress for a young girl.

What makes this such a fantastic find is the complete lack of any frills. It's almost like a muslin to build on; yet, since it has piping, it's obviously an actual garment.

ETA 28/06/2019: I wonder if it may have been a bodiced petticoat, like this one in the John Bright collection? Still, the piping and boning seems to me like maybe too much trouble to go to for underwear.

I can see the grainlines (at least in the front and the sleeves); thanks to that, I can deduce that the straight of grain lies along the neckline and the front seam is partially bias (= not true bias) and probably shaped. The shoulder seams also lie on bias, while the sleeves seem to be a very simple, straight-cut, almost rectangular shape.

The best part? I didn't even have to wreck my head too much to figure all this out. Making that colour-coded version of the picture above took maybe two minutes, and now I have a much better idea of how a basic 1840s bodice works.

The burgundy-black 1850s dress from the Třebíč museum

Since Lisa said this one was her favourite, here's more of it. ;-)

All the images are clickable and should lead you to larger versions on the Rajče site, BTW; the same applies to the previous posts from Dačice, too.

This is the day bodice. It features what raters in The Dreamstress's Rate the Dress consider the bane of Victorian fashion: fringe. It also features (the whole dress, actually), one of my favourite trimmings: velvet ribbons.
Three- or four-tiered sleeves, echoing the tiers in the skirt (I don't remember and cannot determine from the photos whether the upper tier is just a yoke like on the skirt, or a separate flounce).
An interesting variation on fan-front with a deep V neckline and a neckline insert (though experts on 1850s fashions may tell me it's normal, I don't know). And a strange peplum treatment on the bottom front that I cannot quite wrap my head around. More on that further on.



A blurry look at the sleeves. The bottom two tiers feature velvet trim.



The front "insert" is actually two-piece, now that I look at it: it opens/closes in the front, though I am unable to determine what kind of closure it is. Hooks and eyes?



This detail photo is blurry, but you can see how the edges overlap in the front center.



And here's a closer look at the peplum. At some point, I think, the side pieces go separate from the fan-front; the question is, is it meant to go under like this, or on the contrary, was it meant to go over? Is it interchangeable and the curator chose to display it like this, or does the construction actually prevent it from going over? Or is this whole thing just a result of it sitting on a manequin instead of going over the full skirt, and did it actually originally sit at the sides of the fan-front?
I'm puzzled.





Other blurry photos; this time, from the back. Cute little tails. :-) And trimmings enhancing the sloping shoulder cut of the bodice. The sleeves are rather rumpled from this side and the blurriness of the photos prevents further examination, but I do believe there is some gathering going on, because some of that is apparent from the front as well.




And the evening bodice. I loved the evening version. The trimming is just the right amount: not too much, not too little. The "bertha", pleated vertically like this, is lovelier than the more usual versions that are pleated horizontally, don't you think? It actually reminds me more of 1840s styles, so perhaps this is late 1840s / early 1850s.



And notice the running stitch inside the sleeve. I believe this is what attaches the trim.



From the back: it laced - spiral-laced. (The coloured spots are heads of pins holding it to the manequin.) The bodice is very clearly, visibly boned.



Side view with the sleeve.

And some detail looks at the skirt.



The attachment of the top tier.





The tiers are bias-cut and attached to the skirt in a manner / stitch I'm unable to name; each tier ends a bit higher than the other attaches, which makes it easier to determine the construction. :-) Also, the tiers are not that gathered: the fullness of the skirt comes rather from the gathering on the underskirt itself (and, obviously, some foundation underneath).

"The Secret of Chateau Wardrobes" exhibition in Dačice

The main reason we went to Dačice - the main reason for me, anyway - was an exhibition of extant clothes from the end of the 18th century through the 19th to the beginning of the 20th. Those clothes all came from chateaus and museums, or private collections, in the region.

The exhibition was fantastic: just two rooms, but packed full of awesome.

And photographing was allowed.

You can imagine what a happy little marmot I was!

You can see all the photos from the exhibition here; I'll only post some, because, seriously, 248 photos? :D Hopefully, I'll at least eventually manage to add captions to all of them...

And maybe post some more details of some clothes later. For now, I'm posting this wrap-up post so that I don't feel guilty about not having posted it earlier!





This suit (what is it called, really?) is from the end of the 18th century. It comes from the collections of the chateau in Jindřichův Hradec; it belonged to Jan Rudolf Černín z Chudenic (a count from the region; Johann Rudolf Czernin von und zu Chudenitz) and may have been made in France.






This one's another of Jan Rudolf Černín's clothes; it's from 1791, allegedly made in Paris. These two are silk.



This one's Jan Rudolf Černín's from the end of the 18th century as well, but it's woolen, and simpler, indicating a later date, or perhaps a different purpose?



It's got painted buttons. Each of the buttons has a slightly different miniature painting in it. Wow.



The wedding dress of Marie Terezie Černínová, née Orsini-Rosenberg, Vienna 1817. Muslin (obviously). Collections from Jindřichův Hradec.



The manequin was very obviously the wrong size for it; but that meant I got to see how it closes.
I'm not sure whether the tie is just a tie, or whether it's also a drawstring. But notice there's a hook in the middle and an eye on top, alternating on one side: a neat little trick against accidental opening I've read about some time ago on some costuming site. It's proven to be period-correct now. ;-)



Also, there is a patch under the bust on the right side, which you can't really see in the photo, but it made me a very happy little marmot to see that yes, these fabrics tore. Even if you were a countess. And isn't that bodice treatment lovely?

And now my favourite garment from the whole exhibition. Not so much in colour; but the construction and overall silhouette are delicious.



An 1830s dress/wrapper from the museum in Písek. Well, they say it is a day dress. But it's a wrap dress. Silk taffetta. (BTW, they tend not to say many details about the construction in the captions, rather they tell the general history of clothing in the era. Nice for people who know nothing about it, a bit redundant for me.)



I told you. The construction is delicious. Look at that tiny piping at the hems!



Apparently, it closes with fabric-covered buttons and some sort of loops or hidden buttonholes. My guess is the former, because the fabric at the right side was slightly scrunched as if something was sewn to the wrong side - you can sort of see that in the photo.

The details end here. There's too much to post details of everything; these were the earliest, most interesting pieces. Most interesting to me, mind you. (And I even have more details of them.) If you want to see more, go to the album, as linked above, or let me know in the comments and I'll put the photos with my observations (if I have any) in another post.

From here on, I will post single photos of all the other garments.

The chateau of Dačice

So, back to Dačice! Time to see the chateau!

 

This building here, accompanied by another nod to the humble, world-changing sugar cube.
I'm not being stupid, telling you it is this building. The lady at the cashdesk and our tour guide told us stories of people who did not realise this was a chateau. Dačice, as I mentioned in the previous post, are a bit out of the way, and apparently, this lovely chateau does not make it to many guides to Czech chateaus (there are so many, it's not so bad, but it's a stupid overlook with this particular one!) and many people are not aware of its existence. Many people, apparently, often assume it's a school (and since many smaller manor houses have been turned into schools, it's not that surprising). The craziest remark, though, was someone calling it "a factory".
*headscratch*

The chateau, like many aristocratic residences in this country, was rebuilt several times; the front side is very much Empire/Regency, but there's a Baroque tower on the other side (towards the park).

 

You actually enter the chateau from this side, even though it has such a lovely front.

  

 

 In the courtyard, there are these beautiful Renaissance arcades (I hope that's the correct term). This is where you enter for the tour. Photographing is not allowed inside (or maybe you have to pay a photographing fee, a usual practice in the Czech Republic). So I have no photos from the inside, which is a pity. The tour is rather short, but very interesting; it somehow feels as a house truly lived in. There's an array of styles of furniture as well, and you get to see both the lavishly decorated "official" rooms and a chamberlain's room, much smaller and much more humbly equipped. Also, it's stocked full with portraits. Portraits, and more portraits, from different periods; I really, really regretted not being able to take photos of those, because there were so many clothes to admire!

Not that I minded so much after all, though; I'll get there in another post.




The pleasant thing about the chateau in Dačice is not just the chateau itself, but also the park. It is, very obviously, a park from the time when romantic landscape-planning was popular; which makes for many spots perfect for photographing. Alas, the light was bad when we were in the park, so not so beautiful photos. But you'll get the idea.





















The other side of the courtyard, with the Baroque tower and a Pseudo-Baroque chapel from the beginning of the 20th century. 1910, to be exact.



Closing with this door handle, the image of which they now use as their logo.

Oh, and don't forget to visit the chateau's official site, where you can see lots of other (and better) photos, also of the interiors. My favourite was the library. My sister said it was the sort of library I needed, and I heartily agree. You cannot quite see it in the photo (EDIT: In the photogallery; choose "guided tour" to see it in full), but the library has another "level", with a railing - much like Professor Higgins's library in My Fair Lady.

P.S. The Czech version of the site has this very cool feature of panoramatic "photos" of various places around thew chateau.