what is Work?

The focus on most of my research is what many today would call 'women's work'. The domestic arts. Even though, for centuries, men were tailors, a lot of the sewing work was done by women. Women were paid less for the same amount of time, and many women were as good or better at stitching that their male counterparts. The majority of my work is on stitching techniques, but also cut (the masculine side of my trade). I am a fit and detail person. I am not a decorative person. In the period, I may have been able to find a husband who would run the business, and I would do the work.

And, I would likely have done the work.

Today, I work on creating garments for people, I knit stockings, and I am writing a dissertation on eighteenth-century clothing and personal material culture. I think a lot on how things would have been made, and by whom, and how to make those things as proficiently, and efficiently as possible.

Sometimes I even get paid.

I say sometimes, because I am not a fully funded academic. I am not paid to think about things as academics were in the past. Institutions do not fully fund their graduate and PhD students like they once did. We struggle with wondering if our work is a valuable contribution, or is that load of laundry a bigger contribution to the overall well being of our families.

When I think on life, there's not much of the day where I would be considered 'not' working. And yet, because I do not receive a salary, cannot contribute financially to the family, my research, or the economy, is my 'work' actually valid?

Things I think about on a now much cooler, rainy day. Knitting stockings for a living historian, and trying to think about how to efficiently make these things that we all need so that I might earn a bit of actual money.

I think academia has also become 'women's work'.

Living History 101: One persona will not fit every event

When I played in the SCA, it was fun and easy. I picked a character to play, made some clothes, and went to events. The Society is really relaxed about things, a European, between 600 and 1600, or a person who would have been in Europe during that time period...but even then, people push envelopes, and the requirement for dressing is a 'plausible attempt'. So, there are women of Elizabeth's Court who wear poly cotton T-tunics and nobody bats an eye. Nobody really cares, it's a closed event, for fun!

When you do living history, it's a whole different ball game. Historic sites 'hire' you for the day or weekend to portray a specific character in a specific moment in time. There is not 'plausible attempt', it's all-in or nothing, please. Most living historians have a whole wardrobe of clothing and accoutrements to suit several different months, years, and characters over a given period of time. Some living historians do several different periods in time, and so have several different closets of clothing and bits to pull from. They are essentially a theatre costume shop to go. And a lot of them can stand scrutiny of a microscopic level.

When applying to attend an event, I need to know the date the event is recreating, but also the culture, and what the site needs from me as an actor in their drama. Would I even be there? A woman of a certain age? Do they only need men, only soldiers? If women are there, what would they be doing? Am I just 'stock background character, displaced person circa 1774'? or am I actually going to have a job to do, 'Scottish servant woman, circa 1758'?

 It is not just what I will get out of the event, but what the event needs from me.

Actually it's all about what the event needs from me.

There are events, that while fun to be at, didn't hold my thoughts for long. I have come to realize I like having a job to do, I like working my butt off. I get bored being a background character. Thoughts run to scenes in movies where you see the same actor running back and forth down various streets in Louisbourg...I'm looking at you Gabe ;-)
It's cool if I can just hop in the car and go hang out for the afternoon and meet up with my friends for supper and be home in time for bed. But most events for us are still hours away. It's just not feasible for us to drive five hours, spend the night in a hotel, for 45 minutes of interp, then drive five hours home.
AND THAT'S OK! Again, the event is not for me.

The 250th commemorations are beginning next year, there are going to be some cool events happening, but they won't all be for me, or my wardrobe. I will be looking at each individual event, and their requirements before applying. Sometimes, if I want to participate, it may mean making new kit for Pierre and I, maybe even from the skin out. And I am cool with that.

and with that, before our next Ticonderoga event, I need to tie up my gown skirts and make a new petticoat...running up and down stairs in floor length skirts is hazardous to my well being.

Once more into the breeches

this week, I have started working on a black broadcloth suit for a vicar in the local regency era group. I love making breeches, honestly. But, there are many of you out there who hate the process. I have come to realize that a lot of that hate is from trying to make breeches by machine. Asking the machine to do things regency and eighteenth-century breeches had never dreamed of doing.

In short, there are different processes to sewing in the machine era and the pre-machine era.

Ok, So how do I start making breeches?

I start by stitching the centre front seams on both the fashion layer and the lining. This you can do by machine. Then I press the seam allowances open.

Next, I press under the top edges of the fall on both the fashion layer and the lining. I place the two pieces together, wrong sides together, with the lining just a hair shy of the top edge. Then, BY HAND, I fell the lining to the fashion layer of the fall. This nails the edge in place and creates that beautiful little 'top' stitch that you see on the edges of hand stitched garments. It can only be achieved by doing it by hand, since it is so close to the edge. If you were to achieve this same 'nailing down' of the seam, preventing the seam from rolling, you would in effect, have to do the seam three times instead of one. You would stitch the seam, right sides together. Then, you would edge stitch all the seam allowances to the lining. Then you would top stitch the whole mess. This machine method is not the greatest, and believe it or not, is also not the fastest. I have tested the theory, and found that I can accomplish a better seam by hand in a quicker amount of time.

Top of the finished fall, right side. Notice the sides of the fall have not been cut yet.

I then baste the sides of the fall and lining together, and then with a small running stitch, I stitch the lining in place through the crotch. The edges of the lining are turned under a scarce 1/4" through the crotch, but left raw along the sides of the fall, since they will be encased in the fall placket.

I still haven't cut the sides of the Fall.

Next, I press the fall plackets into shape. It's important to press them properly so that stitching them will be easier. Trust me here. I will say it until I am blue in the face, the steam iron is the most important tool in the sewing room.

You'll also notice, that I stitched up the top edge of the fall placket. I did that part by machine, and pressed the seam allowance open, trimmed my seam allowances, and then pressed the whole thing flat. These are all well pressed and ready to go.

Next up, I stitch the curved seam of the front bearers, those bits that hang out inside the fall for modesty. I baste-stitch the curve by machine, and then roll and press the lining to the wrong side. Then, I fell the two pieces together. I baste by machine, right sides together, then turn and press, because I can achieve a nicer curve this way then by just pressing the curve under.

I am not quite ready to cut the sides of the fall...

Right sides together, I stitch, by hand, the placket edge to the fall edge. At the bottom of the seam, I knot-off, but do not cut my thread. Then I cut the sides of my fall. I then stitch the bottom point of the placket into place, wrong sides together, using a little slip stitch. Once I have gotten to the other side of the point, I turn the work to the wrong side, and slip stitch the bottom of the backside of the placket in place, and then up the remaining side of the placket, encapsulating all the raw edges of the side of the fall. The whole process is done with a single length of thread, and one continuous seam. 

You just cannot do this process by machine as easily.

After the fall is nicely finished and pressed. I stitch the bearers in place, also by hand, starting off with right sides together, then at the bottom of the seam edge, I turn and stitch from the back side. I will also slip stitch the bearer to the bottom of the fall placket to secure everything nicely.

There! The hardest part of breeches making is done! At this point, long seams can be done by machine and pressed open.

The second biggest thing people complain about are pockets. in this pair, I am including a waistband welted watch pocket.

My first step is to stitch the welt to the pocketing, and press the seam allowances open. I have done this by machine.

Keeping the welt and pocketing to one side, I stitch the welt to the waistband, following the same stitches as before (between the pins).

on the wrong side, I have marked in chalk where I need to cut the waistband open for the pocket. I am going to cut right up to, but not through the stitching, or past it...this is important. If you cut too short, the welt won't sit properly, if you cut past it, there will be a hole, and you may as well start over again. you cannot fix the hole once it's cut.

At this point, I stitched up the sides of the welt, and pressed everything nicely from the right side. I can double check now, to see what the finished welt will look like. If I have cut the pocket opening too big, there's only one seam to carefully unpick so I can start over again with a wider welt.

Back to the wrong side of the waistband, I have picked up the bottom edge of the pocketing and will stitch it to the other long edge of the pocket opening, between the pins.

I press that seam open, then stitch the sides of the pocketing shut, catching the tiny triangles that form on either side of the pocket opening. I usually stitch my pockets by machine, running back and forth a few times over those triangles to fully support the sides of the pocket opening. I have also serged the sides of the pocketing, since linen frays. I have determined that the side that shows when the breeches are inside out, will be my 'good side' of the serging (yes, there is a good side and a wrong side to serging). Then, taking a darning needle, I have run the ends of the serging stitches up inside the wrong side of the serging. This is a couture/dancewear thing that keeps the serging from ravelling if you have just cut the threads flush. Leave them long, and then run them back through. It takes like 3 extra minutes but makes for a far nicer seam finish.

Ta-da! pocket. I have now stitched the sides of the welt to the waistband itself as well...thus the shadow line.

Finally, the edges of the waistband are pressed under, same with the waistband lining, and the two pieces are felled together. Waistbands finished and ready to be applied to the legs.

A few final notes: Sewing takes time, sewing seams properly, and by hand can sometimes take more time, sometimes less. The iron needs to become your best friend, honestly. Just enjoy the process of making, your garments will look better for it. These breeches took two afternoons to make, and are still in need of buttons, buttonholes, and knee bands...and a fitting in there too. You will not get a quality garment for less than the price of the material cost...even from Asia. 

Be well, make good breeches!

Regency on a Shoestring: Living the Federal era life right now

September will be men's wear central at the shoe. I have two suits to make over the next few weeks while Pierre is on course. I have tested out some theories and figure I should have no problems once I get underway.

The first is for a gent over on the island (Montreal). He's slowly getting out of soldering and is looking to style himself as a clergyman. William Booth, draper supplied some lovely wool broadcloth and worsted, and Club Tissue some nice shirt linen. Mrs. Milligan's Haberdashery supplied the cotton mull for throat and wrist ruffles on his shirt. We are going for breeches, waistcoat with standing collar, and a shawl collared, frock coat that is well tailored to skim his torso. A bit conservative in fashion, but there's enough imagery of breeches wearing gents in the period that I am good with it.

French Fashion Plate,1811

Portrait of a Young Man, Francois-Xavier Fabre 1809

The Skater (portrait of William Grant), 1782 (oil on canvas), Stuart, Gilbert (1755-1828) National Gallery of Art, Washington

These are the paintings I am using for inspiration. Yes, they span a bit of time, but I feel like the clergy should be a bit more conservative in dress. I did up a little fashion croquis and Jay was happy with the style. I will likely start cutting this week.

For Pierre, because we are going to be doing some teen-era and later stuff, I wanted to try a bit more fashion forward stuff. Fashion forward, but still practical, given our class level. Currently, we live on the south shore of the Saint Lawrence, in farm country, and I had thought about reproducing the quintessential French Canadian couple...

Canadiens, deuxieme moitie du XVIIIe siecle

I might yet, still, but for now, I want a bit more commonplace look for us. That means more of an American look, with French leanings because he is French after all, but, I want more early 19thC stuff than late 18thC, so the Canadiens will have to wait a bit...though if anyone comes across those perfect fabrics, please let me know!

Habit a Collet de Velours, Gilet de Pique, 1816

I did a test run of his trouser draft last week. I have to take in the legs to a more shapely fashion, the draft I started with was from the 1930s to get the fit through the hips I wanted. They won't be skin tight through the leg though, like I have seen in some artwork, but shaped. I made them up in a heavier linen, which may be wonderful for three season wear, but I will be on the (stash) hunt for some suitable wool for ones he can wear in February. His frock coat will be made up in the cross-barred olive wool that I made a suit for myself out of last Fall, I have just enough left over from that project for a coat. I may do the top collar in navy wool that I have scads of...his winter trousers and waistcoat may also be made out of that navy, we'll see once I get Jay's suit finished and I can get back to the less pressing suit for Pierre. Our next event is in February, so I have a bit of time.

There are noticeable differences between late eighteenth-century tailoring and the early nineteenth-century, most importantly, the collar and lapels. This is where the modern suit jacket starts to take shape, with pad stitched lapels and collar over more flexible hair canvas instead of the stiffer buckram. Wool padding over the front shoulder concave also make s a return from earlier in the eighteenth-century, and the whole garment has more tailoring involved. They end up taking almost twice as long with all that padded work. the m-notch collar is also an interesting bit of construction, best done with well fulled wool that you can cut and not worry about turning. When I made my spencer with it's silk top collar, I had to do some interesting facing work to be able to turn the inside points of the M. Pierre's collar will be wool, well fulled.

There are photos from my regency era gown and spencer project and I will write up a full post on that over the next few days. In the meantime, for quick teasers, follow my Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/kellyarlenegrant/
All of this is working itself towards more formal writing in my dissertation, as I develop construction techniques and supporting photos. I am also currently writing the chapter on how we use all this research to develop better quality living history programs. The shoe is a busy and happening place these days.

Regency on a Shoestring: Caps

Caps, they are something more of us should just be wearing, all of the time. Not only do they keep the sun off the top of our heads, they keep our hair clean and tidy too. I have even taken to wearing a triangle of cloth on my head on the regular day to day life, since wearing my hair up doesn't always mean my hats will fit my noggin'. I hate having my head sunburned.

Unless you are dressing in evening wear, where your hair will also be dressed to suit the fabulous ballgown you are wearing, your head should be covered.

Look at these two lovely ladies wearing caps, the Oyster Girl on the left is even wearing her cap underneath her hat. This keeps her hair from sticking to the interior of her hat and pulling, but also allows the hat something else to purchase on. If you have also done your hair nicely, the cap is nailed to your head, and then the hat can be nailed to both cap and hair nicely with some long pins.

I have found recently, that there is no possible way I can make caps for folks that are within a price range people are willing to pay. My latest cap literally took as long to make as my gown did. So many little hems and tiny seams. They should be something that every lady makes for herself though, since the sewing is simple, if repetitive.

Cutting: measure your head from ear to ear, over the top. Then from where you want the caul to sit, towards the back of your head...don't forget to add enough space for your hair if you use extra bits at all...I do, as I have baby fine hair. I actually stuff the back of my head with C-clip hair rollers to give it enough volumn. Cut a rectangle this size, and round off the top two longways corners. There, you have a caul.
Now, the front of the cap is usually a lappet style in this period, that's what I think the Oyster Girl is wearing above, since the frill comes under her chin. This is cut by making the front long side the length of the measure of around your face, chin to top of head, and back to chin. The parallel, back line of this section is usually from earlobe to earlobe, over the top of my head. Sometimes this has a section that curves around to the back of the nape.

Let's look at some caps...

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

Met Museum, New York*

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

 All these caps are seemingly fancy-pants caps. A lot of people think they are for upper class folks, but if you look at the shapes, and not the fancy lace, you can make a similar style of cap, but for a more lower-class persona. What is available to you in your local fabric store? Can you obtain small amounts of batiste or mull, fine shirting fabrics? Use these for your caps, and save the lace for the upper class personas. Most laces available from your local Fabricland and Fabricville stores are not appropriate for this period, it being heavy crochet lace, and not this fine netting style of lace.

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

 Look at the simplicity of this cap though, cut in one piece, just a large rectangle that has been cut into and  gathered into the back neck, edged in a very small lace. This is likely a simple batiste.

Museum of Fine Art, Boston*

 And here we have another very simplistic cap in fine cotton mull, without any lace at all!

Sewing caps: You need to know how to make tiny hems, since almost every piece of the cap will be hemmed before you put the pieces together. I do a little whipped rolled hem, by folding the edge over as slightly as I can one time, then picking up a couple of threads where the cut edge meets the body, and then a couple of threads right on the fold, making little 7s with my thread. After about 8 or 10 stitches, I pull up the thread to roll the hem. For any felled seams, I use a simple running stitch to sew the first leg of the seam, and then after folding the fell over, a pick stitch. Using tiny sewing needles and silk thread, I am able to achieve tiny stitches. Get used to using small needles and a thimble, and your sewing will improve. I have stronger strength glasses just for hand sewing.

My last note is about reenacting clothing. Far too often I have seen women making their caps from heavier linen or worse, poly cotton blend broadcloth. I just have not found any extant pieces from this period in a heavy linen...and let's face it, poly cotton may be cheap, but it is not at all historically accurate. The amount of material required for a cap is so small, everyone in this hobby/profession can afford to purchase enough to make a cap. All you really need is less than a half metre, and really, you are likely to be able to cut a couple of caps from a half metre. If you want a stiffened cap (which is the excuse some have given for using poly/cotton), boiling in starch will give you the best results. And it's period!

My caps are one of those items of clothing that hardly ever get laundered...I want the heritage of a few days of wear, so really only launder them when they are pretty darned nasty. This takes a long time to occur though, since I starch my caps and the starch repels the dirt like nobody's business.

*working on accession numbers for these caps...Pinterest can be your friend for quick searches, but a lot of people pin without information. I am working to rectify the situation on my own Pinterest boards.
https://www.pinterest.ca/esteladufrayse/regency/
https://www.pinterest.ca/esteladufrayse/regency-footwear/
https://www.pinterest.ca/esteladufrayse/1820-30-ross-farm/