Showing posts with label 1830s-40s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1830s-40s. Show all posts

Saturday, January 20, 2024

The Plaid Wool Fringed Shawl

 In the fall of 2019 I came up with a brilliant idea - I would make a shawl to wear with my new 1840's wool dress! A nice large woolen shawl, it could be worn with all sorts of different dresses from throughout the 19th century - it would be perfect!


I dove into my books to research shawls. If I was going to make this thing I was going to make it right! My family had a re-print of an 1890's Sears catalogue we'd recently picked up and I read all the descriptions of the shawls for sale in the catalogue.


60" by 60", plus fringe, most of the descriptions read. 

I went to my wool stash to see what my fabric options were. After rejecting several fabric cuts because either there wasn't enough yardage, or I had the fabric earmarked for something else, or I didn't like the plaid for this project, or the fabric was too narrow, I finally decided on a gray and red plaid wool I'd picked up from a thrift store for a couple bucks a few years earlier. (I picked it up at the same time I snagged the wool that became this skirt)


The fabric was a full 60" wide, and there was enough of it to cut a full 60" square and still have some fabric left over. So I cut out my square. (And a few months later I used the leftover fabric to make my Hogwarts-inspired bonnet.) Now all I had to do was fringe it!


Now the "proper" way to fringe a shawl is to un-ravel the fabric for a couple inches all around the perimeter. But is that what I did in 2019? Oh no. I was unaware. I made my life much harder than that. Don't get me wrong, I did unravel fabric. . .


A lot of fabric, but. . .



It was not along the edges of my shawl.
I was worried that if I unraveled the edges that would reduce the dimensions too much, I really wanted that 60"x60" + fringe shawl, so I decided at add on fringe instead of unraveling my fabric.


 Along the two edges of my shawl that were not selvedge edges I sewed a very tight zig-zag on my sewing machine to keep the fabric from unraveling. Like I said, there would be absolutely no unraveling the edges of my shawl!


Then, I unraveled my fabric scraps, and cut my unraveled threads to a uniform length.


I sorted the threads by color, then threaded a couple at a time onto a large craft needle.


And I used the needle to thread the threads through the fabric along the edges of my shawl.


Then I knotted the little bunches of fringe in place. 
Making sure, of course, to match the fringe color with the color of the plaid at each location.



This way, when all was said and done, it would look like the fringe had been created by just unraveling the edges of the fabric.


Yep, just by unraveling the fabric, with a few extra steps thrown in.
Honestly, at the beginning it was pretty relaxing and fun, matching up the colors and knotting the fringe onto the shawl.



The completed sections of fringe were just so satisfying to look at!
I started the shawl on a Monday, thinking I'd have it done by that Saturday to wear to a Halloween party. (Thank you date stamps on photos and old blog posts to remind me of the details!)
I did not. In fact, one month later, I only had about 18" of the fringe done. 18" on one of four 60" sides. That's less than one-eighth of the way around the shawl! Barely more that one-sixteenth if my math is correct!


Unravel the fabric.


Cut the threads to the correct length, sort by color.


Knot onto the edge of the shawl and repeat. I definitely lost momentum. This "fringe the shawl" idea became very tedious. I wished I'd just unraveled the edges of my wool like a normal person! But it was too late to do that now. I'd started the shawl this way, I was going to finish it this way! I'm stubborn like that.



For the next 4 winters (2019/2020, 2020/2021, 2021/2022, and 2022/2023) I picked up the shawl between other projects and continued adding fringe. Honestly, knotting the fringe on wasn't too bad. It was the running out of fringe, or running out of one particular color of fringe, and having to unravel more fabric part that got annoying. 


Finally, a couple years in, I figured out a method that worked really well for me. Rather than knotting on the fringe one section at a time - dark gray, white, dark gray, red, dark gray, light gray, dark gray, red, dark gray, white, dark gray, lots of light gray, white, more light gray, and repeat (I bet it was tedious just reading that.) - and having to stop every time I ran out of of one particular color to unravel more, I would just work with one color at a time. I would knot on all of that color I had unraveled.


Then I would pick another color and knot on all of that color that I had unraveled.


Until I has whole sections filled in! (As time went on I also became less obsessive about making all the fringe the exact same length.)


I made some real progress with this method! And finally, last January, over three years after I began this "It should only take me 5 days of knotting on fringe in the evenings while watching TV to finish" project, I actually finished it, by knotting the final bunch of fringe - one strand of each color - onto the final corner of the shawl.


It was done. My big woolen shawl was finally, finally, finished and ready to wear with all the costumes. And what did I do with it?



 I put it away in the closet. After over 3 years I was tired of it. It took too much time!


This winter however? It's finally doing what it was made to do.


It pairs quite wonderfully with my 1890's wrapper (Which I wear around the house "just because" probably atleast once a week!) It's just the thing to throw on over the wrapper on mild winter days to run outside and do quick animal chores.


And on these very, very, cold winter days we've had recently, I've been wearing it even in the house, while sitting by the fire.


Despite the literal years it took me to make, I've very glad to have this thing - though I will never, never, make a shawl like this again!


Every single year I worked on this thing I picked a Historical Sew Monthly theme it would fit if I could get it done in time. After many themes (it would have been perfect for) came and went, I was left with the 2023 options, and I picked challenge #3:

Focus on the Fabric!

Because really, what else is there to this shawl? It's all just one single piece of fabric, with fringe, made from the fabric, knotted on to match the design woven into the fabric. 

What the item is: A fringed Shawl

The Challenge: Focus on the Fabric

Material: Wool Plaid

Pattern: None, just the dimensions of the shawls in an 1890's Sears catalogue as reference

Year: Pretty much the whole Victorian era

Notions: none, all the fringe came from unraveling scraps of fabric, so it's really all just the fabric.

How historically accurate is it? The fabric and dimensions are accurate. My fringing method? Probably not. I believe it would have been more accurate to unravel the edges of the shawl to make the fringe, rather than unraveling fabric scraps to get the thread then knotting those threads onto the edges of the shawl to make the fringe. When I began this project 4 years ago I valued dimensions over method. Thus a project that took way too long to finish.

Hours to complete: Too many. 4 winters of working on this thing between other projects.

First worn: This winter I guess. I don't have a specific date I can recall.

Total cost: The fabric cost me $4 at a thrift store years ago.




Wednesday, August 30, 2023

My Crazy Paisley 1830’s Pelerine

 1830’s day dresses were often (mostly actually?) worn with little capes. These were called pelerines. 

They could be made of lace, or white work embroidery, or out of the same fabric as the dress.


This last option seemed to be the preference for cotton day dresses, like the one I made.


1832-35 Cotton Dress. Met Museum 2009.300.948a–c


The Met Museum dress that inspired my 1830’s dress had just such a matching pelerine, but I didn’t love the style of it. I wanted (needed?) a pelerine to go with my dress, but I didn’t want to replicate that one particularly. Instead I started looking at other cotton dresses and pelerines on Pinterest to find one I did want to replicate.




I fell in love with this one (from the Tasha Tudor Collection). I particularly liked the scalloped petal design over the shoulders. It was fun and interesting - and would be quite straightforward for recreate!




I started by drafting a fairly basic pelerine from a diagram in the Workwomen’s Guide.




Then I traced my pattern onto some linen, which I would be lining my pelerine with, and free hand drew the scallops. 




I used a Frixon pen, which could be ironed off later, and tweaked the scallops until I was pleased with them. Then I cut out the lining and used that as my pattern to cut the pelerine out of my orange paisley cotton.




I made a bunch of piping for the edges, and then machine sewed the pelerine, bag lining style. (Sewn right sides together around the edges, then flipped right side out.)




I finished the neckline with a bit of matching bias binding, and added a hook and eye for closure.




And with that it was done - a very quick project, even with drafting the pattern.




It adds just the right touch of authenticity to my dress.




And I love the piped scallops!




What the item is: 1830’s Pelerine

The Challenge: Neck and Shoulders - the pelerine covers the neck and shoulders and is worn over day dresses in the 1830’s

Material: Cotton paisley print, lined with linen

Pattern: The base pattern is from “The Workwoman’s Guide. I altered it to match the shape of an extant early 1830’s pelerine from the Tasha Tudor collection.

Year: 1832-1835

Notions: thread, hook and eye, cotton yarn for piping.

How historically accurate is it? The sewing techniques are mostly modern, it’s primary constructed by machine with just a bit of hand finishing. The shape, closure, linen lining, and printed cotton outer are all pretty good for the era, though the print isn’t absolutely perfect. It would be recognizable in the era for what it is. 50-60%

Hours to complete: 2-3, including patterning.

First worn: My sister’s birthday tea last August!

Total cost: The fabric was $3 a yard, and this took just over half a yard. I believe the linen was $6 a yard. The notions were all stash/ left over from previous projects. So $5-$10




Saturday, August 26, 2023

My Crazy Paisley Orange 1830's Dress

 As all I've blogged about this month is orange dresses, I decided I might as well continue the trend, and finally share the orange 1830's I made last summer:


Poofy sleeves, detailed bodice, cartridge pleated skirt, wild print. This dress has everything I love about the 1830's.


I acquired the fabric when it was clearanced at Wal-Mart about 5 years ago. (At the same time as I picked up the fabric for my sister's "bustle" dress.) 


It's not a perfect reproduction of an 1830's print, but the orange paisley gave the right feel. Roller printing became a thing in the early 1800's, and by the 1820's and 1830's, the prints were wild! Roller printing was considerably faster than block printing, and you could use up to 6 colors at a time, making detailed, colorful, prints fairly cheap and easily accessible.

Thus, when I picked up a bolt of this fabric for $3 a yard, I knew immediately that it was going to become an 1830's dress. I just needed to figure out the details.


Over the next few years, in between other projects, I perused cotton print 1830's dresses on Pinterest, saving specifically inspirational ones to this board
I wanted a dress with very puffy sleeves, and some sort of interesting detail on the bodice. I was aiming for early to mid 1830's. 

1832-35 Cotton Dress. Met Museum 2009.300.948a–c


By the time I was finally ready to cut into my fabric, I had it narrowed down to basically re-creating this dress from the Met Museum


I started with Butterick 5832, the pattern from my purple plaid wool dress, and the pattern pieces I'd altered to make my 1836 "Alice in Wonderland" evening gown the previous fall. 


I used the darted bodice lining pattern, raised the neckline to match my inspiration dress, and attempted to change the angle of the shoulder seams to be more historically accurate. When I tried the dress on for the first time after finishing it, I realized I completely failed at fixing the angle. Somehow I think I got it backward? Anyway, I was home sick when I started this project (which is why/how I actually had time to finally make this dress.), and clearly the fever I had affected my ability to figure out the correct shoulder seam angle. Thankfully, the rest of my pattern alterations turned out just fine.



Using the "slash and spread" method to add extra fullness, I altered the bodice overlay pieces to get the fun gathered detail from my inspiration dress. The outer bodice pieces were layered onto the bodice lining, edges were piped, and the layers were sewn into place. 


Any visible stitching was done by hand, but everything else was machine sewn. With the exception of setting the sleeves.


I drafted the full circle sleeves from The Workwoman's Guide - an 1838 publication that is now open source on the internet. It contains pattern diagrams for all sorts of 1830's things! 


The circle sleeve pattern is the fullest of the full - each sleeve took over a full yard of fabric! That's A LOT of fabric to gather into an armhole. I gathered it down using machine basting stitches, but then decided that thanks to the shear volume of fabric, hand sewing the sleeves into the armholes would be best.


I was able to use the row of machine stitches, from piping the armhole, as my seam allowance guide.


Speaking of gathering large volumes of fabric down, the skirt is made from 3 panels of 44" wide fabric. The bottom 12" or so is faced with a random quilting cotton from my stash.



I added inseam pockets on either side of the front skirt panel, and I left several inches of the center back seam open at the top to make a placket. The top edge of the skirt was then folded under a couple inches and cartridge pleated, using two rows of stitches.


The gathered up skirt was then whip stitched to a piece of twill tape, which was then whip stitched to the bottom edge of the bodice, under the waistband.


Hooks and eyes down the back, and the dress was done!


This dress took me about 3 weeks, start to finish.


And about two months after I finished it, I found an excuse to wear it.


My sister's birthday tea!


We set up a pretty table on the front porch, my grandma came over for the occasion, and my mom, sister, and I all used it as an excuse to dress up!


My sister in 1880's, my mom in 1840's (still not blogged, sorry!), and me in 1830's! All in yellow and orange!


After several years of dreaming about it, it's a lot of fun to now have this dress in my costume closet.



Now I just need to make a bonnet, some sleeve plumpers, and a few other accessories, before I wear it again. 



What the item is: 1830’s Cotton Dress
The Challenge: At the museum - I copied the bodice design of an 1830’s dress at the Met Museum
Material: Cotton Paisley print, white cotton lining
Pattern: Butterick 5832, heavily altered, with sleeves from the Workwomen’s Guide
Year: 1835-ish
Notions: thread, hooks and eyes, cotton cord for piping.
How historically accurate is it? The print isn’t perfect, it’s more inspired than exact. The construction is about 50/50 machine and hand sewn - internal construction done by machine, all visible stitching and finish work done by hand. The pattern is decent, but I didn’t get the shoulder seams quite right. The overall look is good, as is the order of construction, seam finishes, closures, and such. Somewhere between 50%-75% I think.
Hours to complete: I don’t even know. It took me about a month of a few hours snatched here and there.
First worn: For my sister’s birthday tea August 2022
Total cost: The fabric was $3 a yard, found on clearance several years ago. I used about 6 yards. $18 total. The lining was a thrifted sheet. I paid $4 for the sheet and I’ve used a little bit here and there for different projects. Less than $1 of sheet for this project. Pattern was left over from a previous project. Cotton yarn, thread, and hooks and eyes were stash/left over from other projects, but we can add a couple dollars for them. So in all I’d say right around $20, give or take for the materials.
I paid $40 for The Workwomen’s Guide, and this is the first project I’ve used that book for, so you can add it to the total of you’d like.