The Eleonora Gown - the final installment

I finished a couple of new accessories for my Eleonora dress, and had a bunch of new, amazing pictures taken by the incredible Daisy Viktoria and her very talented personal photographer (aka boyfriend) Chris. Thanks Daisy and Chris!

I made a gold ribbon partlet and a hairnet/snood. For both peices, I created the pattern, drew the net grid on it, then laid out the ribbons and pinned them to the pattern. I then went over and hand tacked the joins in the net together. Once everything was tacked in place, I sewed a pearl to each join. After the net and pearls were together, I tacked the sheer silk backing in place.

I finished the visible edge of the partlet with a wider piece of gold ribbon folded over. The edges that end up under the gown when the worn were finished with a wide piece of white ribbon folded over. For the hairnet/snood, the entire circle was gathered to the correct circumference and stitched to a wide piece of brown grossgrain ribbon that blends in with my hair. This was hidden with a braided bundle of gold cords to match the portrait.

The look is finished with a girdle/belt made from pearls and red glass stones. Since you can't see the girdle in the original inspiration portrait, I copied belts worn in portraits by Eleonora's daughters. I'm not sure that exact belt style would have been worn with this dress, but I love the style. And I felt that the bottom portion of the dress could use more pears. :-)

So, Pictures!

Here, I'm showing off my awesome Pianelle:

And this, I think, was my favorite picture of the day:

And thanks again to Daisy for use of her amazing camera!

Finally, the Eleonora Gown!

This was another of my Pentathlon projects. It is, of course, based on this portrait of Eleonora of Toledo, from 1543.



In the course of researching for this dress, I did learn some interesting things about this portrait. It probably depicts Eleonora in the dress she wore to enter Florence as the bride of Cosimo di Medici in 1539. Apparently, one of Cosimo's chroniclers describes her as “A vision in crimson satin embroidered with beaten gold”, a description which would fit this dress well. Most sources, however, list the portrait as being painted in 1543. At that time, Eleonora would have been married for 4 years, and had already given Cosimo four children. Perhaps that was the date the portrait was finished, though it was begun earlier.

Eleonora of Toledo was really a remarkable woman. She had a total of 11 children, the ruled Florence in Cosimo's absences, managed her large household as well as the agricultural production on her lands outside of Florence, traveled with her husband despite frequent illnesses, and was a Florentine fashion icon. If you've never read much about her and are interested in this period, you should. It's fascinating stuff.

Here are the construction notes on the dress, as described in my Pentathlon documentation. Thanks again go to my best friend and original living dress form Natalie for taking all these pictures for me at Gulf War.

The fabric I chose for this gown is a red silk shantung. While the silk used in this time period was likely a finer weave than shantung, this fabric had the sheen, weight, and color I was looking for. And while shantung contains more slubs and imperfections than the silk used in period, it contains much fewer than duppioni, and I got it at a good price, so I felt that it was a good compromise.

Underpinnings consist of a chemise, and a steel boned 16th century stays, or a pair of bodies. While I know that it is unlikely that Italian women of the mid 16th century used boned corsets, I have chosen to use one anyway for this gown, as it is the only way I I found to consistently achieve the appropriate silhouette with my body type.

The pattern for this gown is based on the extant gown discovered on what was thought to be Eleonora of Toledo’s body when she was exhumed in the late 19th century, as described by Arnold and Landini and Niccoli. The bodice is cut in two pieces. It is stitched together at the shoulders, and laces up the side back through hand bound eyelets with silk ribbon.



The skirt consists of two large rectangles with four triangular gore pieces. I tried to copy the patterning of the skirt from the extant Eleonora dress as much as possible, while taking advantage of modern fabric widths. The skirt has a flat section in the very front, and is attached with cartridge pleats the rest of the way around. It is slightly fuller towards the back than the front. Here are the skirt pannels, folded in half.



And here is the extant Eleonora that I'm copying the pattern from. Katerinia at The Purple Files has a lovely image of this dress breaking down the seam placement. I tried to get as close to this as possible.



The gown was stitched mostly by hand using matching silk thread. A sewing machine was used on a few areas not visible to the exterior, including the long seams of the skirt and the shoulder seams of the bodice. Stitches used were the running stitch and the hem stitch, both of which can be traced back to this period. The eyelets were stitched with a red cotton embroidery thread, as I prefer to use a thicker embroidery thread for eyelets, and I didn’t have any silk embroidery thread accessible.

The bodice and sleeves are interlined with a thin, non-stretch plain weave cotton, and lined with matching red linen. I stitched it together by folding the seam allowance of the silk over the interlining and stitching it in place with a running stitch which passed only through the seem allowance and interlining, and is not visible from the front. The lining was folded to just below the edge of the silk and whip stitched in place. With this construction method, no seams and visible from the front . I chose not to line the skirt to keep the gown as cool as possible in the hot Caidian weather. Instead, the hem of the dress was stiffened with a strip of felt, as described in extant gowns. I used a wool/rayon blend felt, as I could not easily find a 100% wool felt. I covered the felt strip with a band of silk to keep the felt from catching on grass other things on the ground as I walk.

Here's the bodice with the silk stitched in place over the interlining. The next picture shows the lining pinned in place as it was being whip stitched in.





The extant Eleonora dress did not have sleeves, so the sleeve pattern was created from conjecture and comparison with other extant sleeve patterns The sleeves consist of four finished strips with are joined with a whip stitch at approximately two inch intervals, allowing the chemise to show through the gaps. The top of the sleeve is pinched and stitched in place to create a small shoulder poof. While I’m pretty sure the dress in the portrait had five panels, I chose to make mine from only four. The sleeves are detachable, and tie with red silk ribbons to lacing rings on the inside of the shoulder.

The first picture is of the interlining, and shows how I patterned the sleeves. The second picture is of the finished sleeve with the shoulder "poof".





The trim was applied by hand using a couching embroidery method. The couched cord is a polyester metallic thread over a cotton core, and was purchased in the fabric district in LA for $8 a spool. The thread holding the couched cord in place is a gold polyester metallic thread. I did look into getting real gold metallic cord, but found it cost prohibitive for the quantity necessary.

The trim pattern copies that in the portrait as much as possible. My dear friend Lizzy drew out the embroidery pattern for me. I then traced the pattern onto the fabric with a water-soluable pen, and couched the cord over the top on the line. The trim pattern for portions of the gown not visible in the portrait was arrived at through comparison with similar gowns from the same area and time period. I recreated the “V” pattern on the bodice, and the strips of embroidery down three of the sleeve panels on each arm. I chose not to embroider the bottom center sleeve panel, as it is not very visible, and I though the friction between the couched cord and the bodice would eventually damage the silk on the bodice. The hem is embroidered in the same pattern at a slightly larger scale. This was mostly to make the embroidery process go a little faster.

I still need to make a few accessories for this dress. The snood/caul thing I'm wearing in the pictures is a purchased crocheted one - I need to make a more historically accurate one. I also need to make a better partlet (this one was a rush job, and not quite up to standard), a girdle/belt, and an underskirt to make my skirt stand out a bit. I'll have more pictures taken once everything is done. But here's a taste!

16th Century Italian Overshoes, or Pianelle

These where intended to be the Florentine version of the more well-known Venetian chopines. They were made in red, to match my red Eleonora of Toledo gown and red leather shoes.

The Florentines also wore raised overshoes, but they were generally of a more modest height than those seen in Venice and other neighboring Italian city states. While there are reports extant Venetian examples that can reach a foot high, the average Florentine examples “of a fashionable height” were probably no more than 4-5 inches. According to Bulgarella, in The Cultural World of Eleonora of Toledo, the gown Eleonora of Toledo was buried in was intended to be worn with raised platform shoes about 12 cm, or about 4.7 inches tall. This seems similar to other Florentine examples found in Moda a Firenzie.

In Florence, high overshoes were a sign of rank, while lower class people generally wore lower, or even flat overshoes. These overshoes were often worn with matching leather scarpini, or flat shoes.

While the Venetian raised heels often used a cork core, the Florentine examples used a wooden wedge. They were usually covered in fabric, especially velvet. Eleonora of Toledo’s wardrobe accounts record that she had 32 pair in red, and another 31 pair in various other colors, accordinging to Moda (seriously, if you don't have this book, and you are at all interested in 16th century Florentine clothing, you need to get it).

My original plan was to make overshoes to go with my red leather shoes. Sadly, due to some poor planning , the leather shoes are too wide and don't fit inside the overshoes, so I can't wear them together. I think I shall, at some point, make new, thinner shoes to go with these.

I chose to make my overshoes out of wood, like the surviving Florentine examples. I originally tried to find poplar, but couldn't find any poplar blocks in the right size. I did find basswood blocks, sold for wood turning, about 4 inches square on the end, and just long enough for my foot. So the finished overshoes are just under 4 inches high at the heel. Which is slightly shorter than the extant examples, but plenty tall enough for my 5'6" height.

Most of the how-to information I got for this project comes from this excellent website, by Francis Classe. I really can't say enough about it.

I started with two blocks of basswood. These were cut roughly into shape using a band saw (my co-worker Dave graciously let me use his power tools and supervised to make sure I didn't lose any digits!). We then got out a couple of different types of belt sanders and sanded out the middle until they looked pretty, and were mostly even. Here's what the wooden wedges ended up looking like.



The wooden wedge is covered by several pieces: the insole (between the top of the overshoe and the foot) the outsole (between the overshoe and the ground), the surround (the velvet that covers the sides of the overshoe), and the vamp(the part that holds the shoe to the foot).

First, we make the insole. It was cut from a medium-weight piece of leather, and is just barely smaller than the outline of the top of the wooden base. I tooled the insoles with a crescent-shaped leather stamping tool and a hammer, and went ahead and made the stitching holes with a leather awl.



The insoles were then dyed red. Don't forget to dye the edges of the leather! These will show on the finished overshoe. Again, I love dying leather! You just paint it on with a brush, wait, then buff it off. I finished with a leather sealer.



Next, I patterned and stitched together the red velvet surround for the overshoe. I pretty much just draped the peices, then stitched them together by hand, leaving one of the back seams open.

The vamp was also patterned. I was cut from the same medium weight leather as the insole. It was then covered in the red velvet, and lined with red silk.

The next part is time consuming, and finicky. You need to make a sandwich with the insole, the vamp, then the surround, and stitch through all three layers, all the way around the insole. When stitching through the vamp, I was careful to catch the leather with each stitch, as well as the fabric covering.



Once everything was stitched, I trimmed down some of the excess fabric on what would shortly be the inside of the shoe.

Next, the insole is glued to the top of the overshoe wedge. I roughed up the top surface with sandpaper, and applied a generous coat of shoe glue, lined everything up, and held it in place until the glue felt stable.



Then, you can turn everything right-side out and it looks almost like an overshoe!



I didn't get as many pictures of the next few steps.

I glued the velvet surround to the sides of the overshoe with spray adhesive, and stiched together the last open seam of the surround.

Once that was dry, I was ready to attach the outsole. The outsole was patterned and cut from the thickest leather I could find, again, just barely smaller than the wooden base of the wedge. I marked a spot about 3/8 of an inch from the edge of the leather and cut a groove all the way around the outsole. I tacked the outsole to the base of the overshoe with two short nails.

I then took a drill and drilled a hole from the groove, through the leather and wood, and out the side of the wedge. These are the stitching holes. I used two pieces of fishing line to guide regular linen leather thread through these holes, stitching the outsole to the bottom of the overshoe. There's lots of tiny holes to drill. I broke three drill bits and cut my hands up a bit from the fishing line on this part of the project. This leaves you with a line of (in my case, slightly uneven) white stitching along the outside of the red velvet on the overshoe. I covered these stitches up with a piece of gold trim.

Here's how they turned out:



Next up, pictures from Gulf Wars!

16th Century Italian Red Leather Shoes, or Scarpini

Most of the information for shoe construction I got from a class I took at Caid Collegium in 2012. The instructor got much of his information from Stepping Through Time, which is sadly out of print and not very affordable right now. I'll hopefully be able to add it to my library one of these days!

Before these shoes were begun, the fist step is to make a last, or mold of your foot. In period, these were mostly carved from wood. However, having no wood carving skills, I decided to use the easier and quicker method of a plaster cast of my foot.

I covered my feet in petroleum jelly (one at a time - it would have been too difficult to do both at once!) and wrapped them with plaster bandages. After 20-30 minutes, the plaster dries enough that you can cut a slit in the back and work your foot out (very carefully! I ended up with some scratches on my ankle from the scissors). The cut is taped shut with duct tape, and the mold is allowed to dry completely.



Once the mold is dry, coat the inside with petroleum jelly, mix up some Plaster of Paris according to the directions on the package, and pour it in. I let mine dry for a couple of days just to make sure. Then you can remove the plaster bandages, and file down any remaining odd bits. Then you have plaster replicas of your feet! They're kind of odd.



You need to make some small changes to these plaster casts before you can use it as a shoe mold. First, you need to build out the toe area - shoes that fit too closely at the toes are not comfortable. A class I took suggested Bondo, which is an automotive filler. I also cut out and attached a piece of thin plywood in the shape of my footprint to the bottom of the cast, to make the bottom of the shoe flat. Sadly, I didn't get a picture of the finished shoe lasts.


Now for shoemaking!

The top of the shoe was patterned, using a set of falling apart Toms that I had laying around, then cut from the leather. The toe and heel pieces were stitched together with a butt stitch. This leather was then soaked in water for half an hour and stretched over the last, and laced in place across the bottom of the last, and allowed to dry. In period, they would have nailed the shoe to the last, but of course plaster doesn't take nails as well as wood, so I laced them.



Once dry, the leather was slashed and tooled to create a decorative pattern. It's a simple pattern, but is based loosely on the Detail from The Arrival of Leo X in Florence, 1559-60, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence, and an extant Florentine overshoe. The pattern was cut with a utility knife, and the line was put in with a leather stamp and mallet.



The leather was then dyed red. I chose red to match my Eleonora dress. Moda a Firenzie states that Eleonora's shoes and overshoes often matched her gowns, and that she had many pair in red. I ended up taking out the stitching attaching the two pieces before dying, then re-stitching it. I wasn't sure at what stage the leather should have been dyed. I thought it was dyed before soaking, it might create a mess. Leather is so easy to dye. You pretty much just paint the dye on with a paintbrush, let it dry for an hour or so, and buff it with a cloth. I also put a conditioner over the top to seal it after the dye was dry. So easy!



And here they are stitched back together again.



I decided to make these shoes using the welted construction method, since I had learned that method in a class. I probably should have used a different one, as it made them very wide, and they didn't fit into the overshoes later. But we live and learn. And so, the top of the shoe was stitched to the insole and the welt strip with waxed linen thread. The stitch goes through the edge of the insole, through the top of the shoe, and out through the welt strip, in a sort of double running stitch. This is the part that is time consuming, and will hurt your hands.



The welt strip was then moistened to help it lay flat. It was stitched to the outsole, a slightly thicker piece of leather. The thought process here is that when the leather starts to wear out, you can cut these stitches and stitch on a new outsole, while the rest of the shoe is still good. The excess material on the welt and outsole are then trimmed down.



Here are the finished shoes!



The next post will cover construction of the overshoes.