It has been awhile since I posted something historical, and I’m remedying that situation right now with a sweet little camisole in the fashion of about 100 years ago. This actually happens to be my most recently finished sewing project, so you are getting the freshest blog post material possible!
With this piece, I’d like so brag that I now have my first completely hand-sewn item. After all these years sewing, this is so exciting for me!! You see, last week’s “Spring Break” time off of school for our son meant we took a week long car trip across the country to explore the beautiful, grand state of Colorado. This entailed many hours in the seat of the car, and I brought this historical project to keep me occupied with something worthwhile during the drive.
Finishing up this antique camisole has been something which I have wanted to do for the past 5 years, anyway, ever since I had found the original yoke piece at a local antique store. I always knew it was too delicate of a project to be done on a machine, and therefore the long drive for our vacation – away from my sewing room – gave me the perfect excuse to bring such an ambitious endeavor along. I couldn’t be more proud over both the care and quality I put into my work here, but also the fact that I have a really cool memento of the spare time from our trip!
THE FACTS:
FABRIC: half of a yard of a matte finish 100% silk chiffon in a “sage green” color
PATTERN: none needed
NOTIONS: lots of thread and some antique lace to match
TIME TO COMPLETE: about 16 hours of hand stitching, maybe up to 18 hours; I just finished this (in March 2023)
THE INSIDES: So fine! Not a raw edge to be seen!
TOTAL COST: The antique crocheted yoke part was bought for only $5 years ago. The silk chiffon was a half yard cut that I bought several years back; it cost me $12 from “The Tin Thimble” shop on Etsy. (I will link to the plain white option of this same fabric from their shop here.) The additional lace was partly from my paternal Grandmother’s stash of notions and also partly a purchase ($8) from an antique mall we stopped at along the way to Colorado…yes, even the lace was yet another souvenir of the trip! Altogether, this cost me only $25
My very first step was to give the yoke some good TLC! Not that it exactly needed some attention. It’s still wonderfully sturdy and in pristine, undamaged condition but could be whiter and smell less musty. I soaked the lace for 24 hours in the remarkable Retro Clean whitening solution…and the dingy, grey-ish overtone was gone! Then I did a hand washing in Woolite detergent for silk and delicate material. The yoke was so much whiter to the point it was now a faint ivory. After a steaming from iron to reshape and further freshen the yoke, it was good to go.
Pinning this style of crochet yoke down to a general early 20th century time frame is the most approximate dating I feel comfortable being certain upon. The early 20th century spans the Edwardian era to the end of WWI (circa 1901 to 1918). Even though I have found my yoke probably dates to the tail end of this time span (as I discuss in depth in the next paragraph), such crocheted lace upper bodice pieces were used in a similar form or fashion by women for the whole early 20th century. I could endlessly continue to do intermittent research and explore, hoping to uncover even more facts to share about these amazing little handmade pieces of beauty from the past. However, my finished garment is too cute and much too special to withhold from my blog until all the evidence I pursue comes my way. It’s fun to have a fresh blog post now and then.
From what I found out so far, it seems as if these type of camisoles are tied up with the last era for the wearing of corsets, as these were often worn as a corset cover (which is the way I have it on for this post’s pictures). Major societal shifts for women and drastic changes in fashion styling spelled the end for such undergarments as this yoke camisole. Ladies no longer wore full body corsets into the 1920s and yoke pieces began to instead be added to nightgowns, slips, aprons, or garden party dresses as the next decade rolled along. This picture heavy post (here) from the great “Witness2Fashion” blog shows how these pieces were alternatively called “filet lace” yokes and their geometric blocking and ornate designs date them to the First World War era.
I have noticed that the crochet yokes which are dated to late or post WWI era specifically often have small sleeves that encompass the upper arm, as my piece does. There is an instructional pattern from 1916 for a crocheted yoke (see it here from “Sew Historically”) as well as several tutorial books circa 1917 sold via Etsy which show similar pieces with full arm sleeves. Attempting to date the lace alone, apart from the yoke styling, justifies my assumed provenance to the late 1910s. For one example, a video (posted here on Instagram) of a French crocheted lace sampler book from circa 1920 shows many patterns similar in layout and design to what is on my own yoke. It’s funny how a lot of fashion research just ends up being a combo of reasonable deduction and serendipitous discoveries!
With this much figured out, however, I then was faced with the tough but enjoyable decision of how exactly to bring this antique yoke to its full potential. I wanted to be authentic yet also have my own ideas, which can be a delicate balance. I only needed a fabric cut no bigger than a remnant for the body and I picked from my silk stash. Silk was my ideal for this camisole to be a comfortable base layer. Most silks also drape well, are a high quality material, and properly historical (as it was a fabric women wore on an everyday basis in the 1910s). I gravitated towards this earthy sage green sheer chiffon that was beautiful, luxurious, and not currently marked for any other future project. The green complimented the ivory tone in a way that wasn’t bold yet not plain. At half a yard by 45” width, it was the perfect dimensions to fit onto the bottom of my crochet yoke and also come down to my hips! I doubled the fabric up with the fold as the ‘hem’ for a clean finish and to create more opacity.
I knew ribbons were essential to the neckline and waistline, so – in lieu of fine vintage silk ribbon – I used what was old, but also on hand – my circa 1920s or 1930s “Hug Snug” rayon seam binding tape. Several years ago, I happened to purchase a box’s worth of many rolls of this stuff for a few dollars, and so I felt comfortable enough to use a few yards of this remarkable ‘no-longer-made’ item from the past. Spun rayon seam tape is sheer but whisper soft, in lovely satin finish. It is a high quality notion that used to finish hems or interior straight edges when sewing and can be found on many vintage garments that came ready-to-wear from stores. Here, rayon tape worked just as well as any ribbon with its saturated color and beautiful rarity to help my work be just as special as the yoke I was using! I went for a contrast in a burgundy color to bring out the muted green and brighten the ivory.
I packed up my sewing kit, my yoke and fabric, matching thread, and the roll of rayon tape in a zip-top bag for the car ride, yet I knew it was not everything. I did rummage through my Grandmother’s lace box before we left the house and there was only a small cut of thin crocheted lace which was a match. This lace ended up being added in two vertical rows down the front. I was very specific about needing a lace that was cotton, crocheted, and a “dirty white”. I really wanted to only add lace that seemed to be just as old as my yoke. I was counting on finding the rest of what I needed to in some antique or thrift shops along our way. This was a decision that made me a little wary as to whether or not this project would happen, yet I love to leave a room for fun surprises and the thrill of the hunt in every vacation. This need certainly gave us a goal!
I will unashamedly brag that my husband has a good eye in antique malls or rummage sales for finding sewing-related things I am on the lookout to acquire. This time, he outdid himself. We stopped at an antique mall in a small town off the highway in Kansas and had very little free time to peruse such a large establishment. Somehow he quickly found a bag of 100 year old handmade lace, for only $8, in a basket on a shelf in the back corner of the warehouse. This lace had been leftover edging from a tablecloth (as the label stated) and was blocked out into a one yard square. I could tell by the overall geometric designs and fine work that this lace was indeed in the same style, of the same era as my antique yoke! Hubby is the greatest enabler for my creative projects.
On the evening of crossing Kansas towards Colorado, I worked on snipping the larger decorative lace apart (to be used in a future project – don’t worry, I didn’t trash it). Only the smaller, minimally ornamental portion which had been directly next to the now-gone tablecloth was what I immediately needed. This portion had channeled openings like the rungs of a ladder which were perfect for passing a ribbon through. This kind of lace was exactly what I was hoping in my wildest dreams to find for my antique camisole project. It was the perfect solution to add horizontally along the waistline. Now I can bring in the waistline as needed but still let it out to get the camisole on or off in way that matches to yoke so precisely. I am still so thrilled.
My hand stitching skills really amped up a notch in the car. Even my husband happened to notice how clean and tiny my threads were from the wrong side! I really don’t know what got into me. I think the fact that I had nowhere to go for hours with no distractions or the need to multitask (as is often the case at home) left me to focus on a calm, non-rushed form of precise hand stitching that I found myself really enjoying. I consider hand stitching slow, exacting work but find it necessary on many of my projects to achieve the proper finish and appearance I feel each item needs. Yet, here my car-time stitching was more than what it ever was at home – it was intentional, fulfilling, focused, and quality done by choice. I definitely recommend trying out sewing during travel. Some people on social media have shown themselves hand sewing on a plane or train, too! I usually spend my time as a passenger in the car either sleeping, reading or typing on a laptop, but the last two activities made me dizzy and discombobulated this time. Sewing actually seemed very natural and more than suitable.
I love how my mix of aesthetic, personal, and historical choices turned out altogether so much better than I had hoped!! To think I now have the chance to enjoy the yoke, the lace, the fashion that is at least 105 years old – which took hours on end to make by hand in the first place – is both humbling yet thrilling. Combined with the way this camisole is a souvenir of our trip, I can’t wait to wear this little antiquated underwear item under anything and everything…maybe even as a little summer top by itself with a long, full denim skirt. Completing this old crocheted yoke was a fun way to try out something new…while I was traveling about making new memories and experiences!
seamracer.wordpress.com 