Well dressed at War

I've been sewing, I promise! Look, I made another Venetian!

This one was for my Dearest Friend in the Whole World, Natalie. I wanted something with a high Awesomeness Factor to wear at Gulf War. And, as I was making this with Natalie 2,000 miles away with no opportunity for a fitting, I thought the open-laced style of the Venetian would be very forgiving, if I didn't get the size exactly right. But it turned out fabulously, and Natalie looked beautiful in it. It's made from about 6 yards of copper silk shantung Fashion Fabrics Club.

I love working with that fabric. It's light, but not sheer. It has a sheen, but not as much as satin. And it has a few slubs, but not as many as dupioni. My original plan was to purchase some in red, but after placing my order, I was informed that they were out of red. So I got the copper color instead, and I'm glad it worked out that way. I think the copper adds a lot of interest, while not being outside the realm of possibility for colors in 1570s Venice.

The bodice pattern was modified from the pattern I used for Natalie's red 1480s Florentine. I just lengthened the waist and changed the front opening. It has only two cable tie "bones" per side. The skirt is simply a big rectangle, cartridge pleated to the waist.

Of course, the sleeves are the pièce de résistance for this gown. I tried slashing!

I snagged the pattern from The Purple Files. Many of the slashing patterns on the sleeves of the Venetian dresses I saw looked much more complicated. But this one looked doable. Easy to lay out, and not difficult (though still time consuming) to cut.

Here they are in progress. Like Katerina at The Purple Files, I cheated and used an iron-on interfacing to stabilize everything and prevent fraying. I then used a straight-edge to draw out a grid on the back of the sleeve. Then, a diamond shape was cut where the lines intersect, and slashes were cut in between. They're attached to the bodice with buttons and loops.

A chemise and underskirt create the undergarments. She's accessorized with a pearl necklace, earrings, and girdle, a partlet, and a flag fan. I was very pleased with how everything turned out. Here we are as we're preparing to process in with the Caidian royals before Grand Court at Gulf War. I'll post more war pictures later this week. I think this post is already getting photo-heavy.

Men in Black, 16th Century Italian style

I've been enjoying researching and sewing Women's 16th century clothing for a while. But I wanted to try my hand at some men's clothing too. In my research, I've also noticed that there are a large number of portraits of men wearing all, or almost all, black. And so I had to try that. After entering research mode, I found myself frustrated - many of these portraits are of men wearing all black, against dark backgrounds, in bad lighting. As an art style, it works - it makes the patron's face stand out. But I found myself ranting, come on Renaissance painters! Don't you know that your painting style makes it very difficult to see the details in the clothing, and that you're going to frustrate re-creation seamstresses in 400 years? I'm not sure that they ever considered that angle... So I drew from the few full-length portraits I found that were in lighter colors, where it was easier to glean details.

These two are the closest to the idea I was going for. All black, from head to toe, from 1560s-1570s Venice. Most of the portraits were found on the ever-amazing Realm of Venus.

These three are from very close to the same time and place, but show a little more detail, as they're in lighter colors.

And these three are from slightly different times and places (though they're all still mid-late 16th century Europe), but show how prolific the men-in-black fad was.

My attempt was made of black silk, interlined with a thin, non-stretch cotton, and lined with black linen. The doublet is fairly simple in construction - it's made in three pieces, with two side-back seams, and a closure in the front. It has a short stand-up collar at the neck (I'm not sure that I got the shape entirely right - I need to play with that), once piece shoulder wings, and three longish waist tabs. The front is closed with 15 hand-wrapped buttons.

I especially wanted to do trunkhose with this ensemble rather than Venetians or pants. It seems that lots of SCA guys wear doublets, but few wear trunkhose. They ended up being far more difficult and time consuming than I had imagined.

The construction is based on a variety of extant trunkhose from Janet Arnold's invaluable Patterns of Fashion 3. They're constructed in three parts. First, there is a lining, shaped basically like a modern pair of shorts. Second, there is the middle layer, which is about twice as big around and 4-3 inched longer than the lining layer. The top layer are the panes. Separate, finished strips of fabric were laid down in the same shape as the middle layer. My panes were made of silk, and lined in linen, both black. The middle layer is made of linen as well. The original hope was that the light would play differently on the different textures, although they were all the same color, and make the silk panes stand out against the linen middle layer. Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to happen. They all kind of blend together, and it's difficult to tell that panes are there at all. Which makes me sad, as I put a lot of work into them, and they took forever.

For construction, the lining is stitched to the waistband and to the leg bands. The middle layer, with the outer layer of panes basted in place along the top, are cartridge pleated to the waistband. Each leg has about 16 little "triangles" sewn into them to create the puffy "pumpkin" look, and are whip stitched to the leg bands. The bottom of the panes were then slightly gathered and whip stitched to the leg bands over the middle layer. This blog and this blog were both very helpful in figuring out the construction method for the trunkhose - they were quite a mystery when I started this project.

I decided to fore go the codpiece - partly because I didn't want to go there, but mostly because I ran out of time. And there were of couple of trunkhose in Arnold that didn't have one at all. So it's document-able. And I am okay with that. The lower hose are made of black t-shirt knit. Which is not at all period, but was suggested by an SCAer in Caid who is known for his awesome 16th century garb. After talking with him, I though I understood that he gartered his hose just above the knee. This didn't work for Andrew - they kept slipping down. So he eventually just stitched them to the leg bands of the trunkhose. If I make another pair, I'll make them longer, and point them at the waist, underneath the trunkhose, which I understand is closer to the period solution.

The sleeves were very last minute. I made them last thing the night before the event, and sewed the ribbons to attach them to the doublet in the car on the way. I only made one attachment point for each sleeve, but that didn't work well - the shirt showed too much, especially at the back. I plan to add another 2-3 attachment points per sleeve. Another problem was that the trunkhose had trouble staying up at the correct level, and there was sometimes shirt showing between the trunkhose and doublet. This was not helped by the fact that the trunkhose were really heavy - Too many layers involved. In period, the two were pointed together, but I had heard other costumers talk about how much trouble this was. Another costumer I spoke to at the event suggested either suspenders (the non-period, but very workable solution) or hooks and eyes at strategic points (the semi-period, but still workable solution). I'll probably sew on at least a few hooks and eyes attaching the doublet to the trunkhose. At least one in center back, and one on each side.

I also finally got the chance to wear my blue silk Venetian to this event - 12th Night in Caid. It was lots of fun, and I'm happy to report that both ensembles made it through the whole day, including the feast and dancing, with no major mishaps. More pictures of the blue silk Venetian to come soon, I hope.

1560s Blue Silk Venetian

I was supposed to go to the Caid coronation today. The new king and queen stepped up in 16th century Venetian, and asked anyone who was so inclined to dress to match. I had been meaning to make a Venetian for a while, so I took up the challenge. Unfortunately, I didn't make it due to last minute car trouble. But here's the gown! And thanks on this project to to the Realm of Venus for consolidating all those portraits and being generally awesome.



Under layers consist of a separate Elizabethan style corset, and a silk taffeta underskirt, to give the skirt a little more body. The corset is left over from my burgundy velvet Elizabethan, and the underskirt is made of three yards of copper-colored silk taffeta, cartridge pleated to a band.



Over that goes the white linen chemise, and the dress. The dress is made from 6-7 yards of blue silk shirting that I found on sale from an online fabric store ($6/yard!). The bodice is constructed similar to the Elanor of Toledo square neck gown from the Janet Arnold book. It's cut in three pieces, and has a deep "V" in the center front. It's lined in linen, and interlined with plain weave cotton. I sewed three boning channels along the front opening, and filled them with jute cording. It keeps the center front line just stiff enough to keep the lacing from buckling sides, but isn't as stiff as rigid boning. Each side of the center, "V" shaped opening has sixteen lacing rings sewn along the inside edge. And of course, it's ladder-laced with gross grain ribbon.



Since the fabric was only 45 inches wide, I used four panels for the skirt, and cartridge pleated them to the bodice.

The sleeves were a bit of a challenge. I was beginning to run low on fabric at this point as well, which added to the challenge. I also, as usual, got in a hurry and forgot to take pictures of the intermediate steps.

I cut the lining in my usual sleeve pattern, which I plan to write about in the future. I cut the same pattern from the silk, for the bottom part of the sleeve. The top of the sleeve is made from nine, 2-inch wide finished strips of silk. A gathered piece of white linen is stitched between the silk strips and the lining. Lace cuffs are stitched on the wrist edge. The sleeves are attached to the bodice with six gold buttons and loops.





I have a number of accessories with this gown. There's a rather plain partlet made of very sheer white silk. I had a lot of fun making jewelery for this gown as well: a double loop gold and pearl necklace that ends in a pin/pendant, and a girdle with pearls and chunky gold beads. All the pearls are glass, and from Jo Anns. I very quickly (at about 9:00 pm last night) threw together a sheer white silk veil.




My favorite accessory for this ensemble was the Zibellino. These little critters are also called flea furs. I believe the original belief was that if you carried one of these around, fleas would be attracted to the pelt rather than to you. Then, it became one of those weird fashions that take on a life of their own.




I asked a friend to sculpt the head for me, out of sculpy. I received the pelt as a gift. I colored the head with a couple of layers from a gold leafing pen (found at Jo-Anns), then glued a small square of silk to the back of the head, and stitched the pelt to the silk. I thought this would be the best method, as I didn't want to glue the pelt. I then made a little "harness" for the head out of tiny glass pearls, and added a clasp so I can attach him to the end of my belt if I want to, like in some of the portraits.




Very very fun project. I hope I get to wear it soon. When I do, I'll take lots of pictures.

1520s Venetian Ribbon Tied Front dress with Balzo

I made this a long time ago, for Pentathlon in March, and have been meaning to post it for a while, but have utterly failed.



Here's the dress and construction description from my Pentathlon documentation, so I won't have to re-type it:

A note on fabric and construction method: The gown and sleeves are made from emerald green silk suiting, and lined with a slightly darker green medium weight linen. The bodice is interlined with two layers of linen canvas. The “ribbon” ties are made of black silk charmeuse. The chemise is made of handkerchief weight white linen. The gown, and sleeves were sewn entirely by hand with silk thread. Internal seams were backstitched, for strength. The chemise was sewn by hand with polyester thread, as I had no white silk or linen thread on hand when I started, and no time to drive and get any. The sides were French seamed, and neckline was finished with a narrow rolled hem.

Chemise: The chemise is made from handkerchief weight white linen, using the rectangular construction method. The front, back, sides, and sleeves are large rectangles, with square gussets set into the sleeves where they join the body. The sleeve edges and bottom edge were hemmed. The neckline was finished in a rolled hem, then gathered. A narrow strip of linen was stitched around the neckline to hold the gathers in place. The sleeve edges are left open, as shown in several paintings of the period. I made the chemise very full, and out of very lightweight linen to try to achieve the tiny, dense gathers seen in portraits of the period.

Gown: The gown is made out of silk, and lined in linen. The bodice is constructed in three pieces: one in the center back, and two on each side/front. To my knowledge, there are no surviving examples of Italian gowns from early 1500s, so the bodice construction was based on a combination of portraits from the 1520s, and the construction of a surviving Italian gown several decades later, in the 1560s, worn by Elenora of Toledo. It’s constructed to have a gap of a couple of inches in the center front closure. The “ribbons” are finished strips of silk, which are stitched directly to the interlining.

There seems to be no evidence that bodices were boned this early in the 16th century, so I wanted to find a way to provide support without the use of boning or modern undergarments. I interlined the bodice with two layers of linen canvas, and curved the front closure. When the ribbons are tied tightly, this seems to provide adequate support. The waist is set slightly above the natural waist in this style of gown, which I feel helps with the support issue. The weight of the heavy skirt also helps pull out any wrinkles from the bodice.

The skirt is made of four panels, which were knife pleated and attached to the bodice.

Sleeves: The sleeves are made from the same silk and lined in the same linen as the bodice. The sleeve style is unclear in all four portraits of the ribbon-tie gown. In Vecchino’s Lady with a Lute, the lady depicted doesn’t seem to be wearing sleeves (or she’s slipped her arms out of them, and they’re hanging down the back of her gown) and is playing her lute in only her chemise sleeves. In Cariani’s Portrait of a Lady, I was unable to decide whether the things covering her arms were wide sleeves in a color different from the dress, or some sort of shawl. In the Portrait of a Lady by the unknown artist, we can’t see the wrist area, and don’t know whether the sleeves were open at the bottom or gathered into a cuff. We can see only that the upper portion of the arm is very full. In Vecchino’s Woman in Blue, one sleeved arm is visible – the upper portion is full and in the same color as the gown, a middle portion is also full and in a different color, at her wrist is a more fitted, shear cuff. I wasn’t sure quite how to interpret this into a construction method (these portraits can be found in a previous post.)

I eventually decided to copy the sleeves of other gowns from the same location and time period. A wide sleeve is gathered or pleated at the shoulder and wrist, and attached to a wide fitted cuff. As the decade continued, the fitted portion of the sleeve moved up the arm until the loose portion was only a poof or roll at the shoulder, but at this early in the decade, it was still fairly narrow.
The sleeves are finished separately and attached to the bodice only at the top with a few stitches. One portrait from the Venetian school (Portrait Of A Lady and a Lute Player) depicts a gown with a similar sleeves attached this way, with the chemise showing between the bodice and the sleeve. This was also done for practicality – it will be easy to remove the sleeves and wear the gown with only the chemise sleeves when the weather is warm.

More pictures. Thanks, Natalie, for the photoshoot when you came to visit me!





It's the most sumptuous feeling gown I've made so far; made of silk, and completely by hand. At pentathlon, I entered at the beginner level, and got bumped up to journeyman (!!!!!) and won second place. It's very heavy and hot. I haven't even worn it yet - maybe this fall.

Chopines, or, Overshoe Envy

I've been a little bit crazy about overshoes ever since I saw someone at Pentathlon wearing awesome wooden hinged pattens. So, I've decided I really need some chopines.



And after much searching, I finally found a website that has instructions for making them, here.

So, I'm going to make myself some. As soon as I find someone with a belt sander who will let me use it. Perhaps a pentathlon project for next time?