Ice Skating in Victorian Style!

Before wintertime is officially displaced by spring for my region of the world, I would like to share my grand outing on a snowy day last month.  It was then that my newest historical costume made for a very memorable time ice skating.  This classic winter sport was immensely popular and accessible leisure activity for ladies of Victorian times.  I had to test how that actually worked out along with other like-minded women of the St. Louis Historical Sewing Society, of which I am a member.  My Victorian skirt from December of 2021 acquired a matching bodice and bustle adornment which I stitched together for the occasion.  Along with some new additional accessories, my original skirt had a quite different look that is more mid-1880s this time around…and I am ecstatic.  I was warm in the cold being a fashionable Victorian lady for an afternoon having fun wearing what I had sewn – what could be better?!  We skated at our city’s Steinberg rink, the largest outdoor ice rink in the Midwest (United States).

I did not expect to make a bodice to go with the skirt when I bought its herringbone flannel fabric last year, so this project was a surprise for me, too.  After cutting out the Victorian bustled skirt in an unconventional pattern layout to save material, there was a ¾ yard panel leftover plus some generous sized scraps.  “Why not try something out”, I thought a month before the date of the event.  My silk velvet blouse from my first Victorian outfit was too fancy and fragile to be trusted for ice skating, and neither was it warm enough.  I had nothing to lose aiming for a matching set.  If you know me, it will be no surprise that every scrap was utilized to maximum potential, and now I am pleased to no end that I have a set! 

As much as I liked my first attempt at a Victorian outfit, I am only now fully in love with dressing the “Industrial era” after this my most recent, ascetically coordinated 1880s outfit.  A fully me-made outfit was the proper dive headfirst that I needed to get a good feel for wearing the fashions from Victorian times.  Yet, doing so has left me itching to make a full-out fancy, sleeveless, trained evening ensemble out of moiré fabric…but I am getting ahead of myself.  Please enjoy a small portion of my joy through the photos of my wonderful day out skating in my Victorian outfit!

In case you are wondering, I will clarify that I had absolutely no problem ice skating in this and did not find it difficult, cumbersome, or restrictive at all.  Even though bodices of the Victorian era had little ease and wear close to the body, a garment that is properly fitted and tailored should not be restrictive.  I altered and especially redrafted the existing sleeve pattern to have better upper arm fullness, higher armscye, and more forgiveness by cutting on the bias.  Looking at old Victorian pictures, this doesn’t seem to be the ‘normal’ snug fit, but I am costuming for the 21st century.  While I do aim for historical accuracy, I am going to make my clothes real-world conscious so they work for me the way I want them to, otherwise the best benefit to sewing for myself is negated.   

In contrast, the bodice is more true to the Victorian times than the way I set in my sleeves.  I fitted it perfectly like a snug body double to stay put on me no matter how I moved.  It was always poised and wrinkle free due to its 8 vertical channels of lightweight boning wrapping around my torso from the bust down.  The full range of movement in my arms makes sure to more than make up for the tight fitting bodice, and I was free to dance, throw snow, save myself from falling, or do whatever tickled my fancy.  Achieving this balance of a structured fit that still retains body freedom has similarities to the tailoring practices of couture fashion – something I will address further down in my post. 

I’m skating here with the fabulous Alyssa who blogs at “The Sewing Goatherd”

The short pannier undergarment I was wearing to bustle out my skirt behind me kept it from under my legs and gave a fantastic, impressive swish when I’d move around on the ice.  The ankle length of my sensible, unadorned walking skirt along with my simple, plaid apron drape was unfussy so there was nothing for my skate blades (or other people around me) to catch onto. As an 1889 edition of the Ladies’ Home Journal explains, “First of all, a skating costume needs to be short, and next it should be simple.”   I did not fall down once!  I even ran through the snow in this outfit.  Remember – just because my clothes may look old-fashioned doesn’t mean that I am that way personally, nor does modest clothing mean a woman can’t move around enough to still have fun.  Do not read a book by its cover. 

To complete my ensemble, I used several eclectic items from on hand.  First of all I am very proud of tweaking a vintage 1950s hat in my wardrobe to make it passable Victorian.  Bright colors, especially in velvet (if not fur), were encouraged and popular for at least some portion of a Victorian lady’s skating ensemble, as can be read in many publications of the times.  I took off the hat’s original netting and added on a matching red velvet ribbon from my existing notions stash (shocking how well it matches).  This way I could tie it under my chin like a traditional Victorian hat but it also would stay on well without needing a hat pin.  To further decorate the open crown, I pinned on another little bow up at the top.  A lace-trimmed satin pocket square (bought from my trip to Italy so many years back and worn as my neck cravat in my first Victorian outfit) went over my head’s crown under the velvet 1950s hat.  A 1930s era lace collar with an attached descending lace dickey filled in my Victorian bodice’s open neckline over my blouse (again, something I wore with my first Victorian outfit).  I used a reproduction brooch that I have had since I was a teenager to keep that lace collar in place. 

Finally, the most special accessory of all is my beaver fur collar – it had been my paternal Grandmother’s piece.  It gave me a little extra warmth, a bit a rich-looking luxury, and a touch of something extra special.  I was wearing her earrings, too!  I almost never go without wearing something from one of my ancestors at this point – no matter if I am dressing historical, vintage, or modern.  Fur seems to be one of the list commonly seen staples for trimming to a proper Victorian ice skating outfit.  I was so happy to give Grandma’s accessory an outing with me, even if it did cover up my neckline details which took me so long to complete.  In hindsight, I rather wish I would have had my fur muff (posted here) with me, too, but it did not match my overall darker, warmer brown tones very well.  I also did not want to run the risk of losing or staining it.  Oh well – I was plenty warm as things were and had a great time without it.  Other of my fellow Victorian skaters did bring their furs, though, as well as one Sewing Society member even wearing a pair of true Victorian skates!   

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  A dark brown herringbone printed cotton flannel was used for the skirt, a 100% wool twill for the neckline and cuff contrast (leftover from this Victorian apron drapery), and an all-cotton broadcloth in brown for the bodice lining.  A 1 ½ yard cut of rayon white plaid shirting was the front apron drape.

PATTERN:  Simplicity #5457, from Andrea Schewe, labelled as ‘Victorian 1880s’, from year 2003

NOTIONS:  lots of thread, lots of mid-weight interfacing, three packs of buttons for the bodice front, several yards of cotton covered feather-lite boning, 6 yards of rolled braid upholstery trimming, and lots of hook-n-eyes

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The bodice alone took me about 50 hours to do – most of it was all the finishing and details which I primarily did by hand.  The bustle adornment took about 5 hours to make. Everything I needed was happily finished on February 3, 2022 a few days ahead of the event.

THE INSIDES:  both bodice and bustle adornment are bag lined for a completely clean and tidy coverage of all raw edges.

TOTAL COST:  The flannel and contrast wool were leftover from my last project.  The broadcloth lining, boning and all other notions besides buttons were all on hand already from a rummage sale purchase last year, so I am not counting the costs for them either as it was negligible.  The 6 yards of upholstery trim cost me about $12, the buttons were about $6 for three cards of four, and the plaid shirting was $13 – all bought at my local JoAnn Fabric store.  In total just over $30!

Charles James, designer Evening gown, circa 1955, from the RISD museum, famously worn by the socialite Babe Paley

This project was not just a desire to improve upon my existing Victorian skirt but also a search for validation as well as answers after making my end-of-the year Charles James inspired bodice.  As I mentioned in my post, it is often said that his creations are inspired and loosely based on Victorian styles.  The more you look at the gowns he made in the 50s decade particularly, it is plainly obvious in the bodice shape and fit, as well as in the skirt drapery.  However, I said this as one who was quoting well-respected fashion historians.  I was also associating the two from the perspective of merely observing construction and design line similarities.  Even still, both come from something other than a hands-on means.  I have studied some X-ray scans and interior detail images of Charles James’ gowns to get as close as possible to personally inspecting such high couture pieces for comparison sake.  Then, constructing and wearing my very own 1880s bodice has given me that in-person confirmation that Charles James’ bodices are indeed very Victorian.  I feel so validated.  I am still so elated over this discovery! 

They are both very stable (can stand on their own apart from a body), multi-layered (composed of an exterior, interfacing, interlining, and lining), boned in many channels, close-fitting, and tapered low in the front but high in the back along the waistline.  Being an experiment, I wanted to try on the finished main body with my Charles James inspired 50s shantung skirt before the sleeves and any details were added.  I wanted an even better idea of how much a Victorian bodice could look like part of a Charles James gown.  I installed a separating sport zipper down the center front because I wanted a secure fit that wasn’t fiddly to close (which would be the case with hook and eyes) but also to help me be able to try this on properly as soon as possible because I was so excited.  The first try on for every single thing I make for myself or others is always so filled with nerves and anticipation.  I knew it would fit on account of my measuring at the pattern stage, it was just being able to finally see this bodice on me that blew me away.

I knew from the get-go that I was not going to be a die-hard for 100% true authentic construction methods as long as it is something not seen to anyone but me, anyway.  I did do clean, structural tailoring techniques that were more 21st century than true Victorian (which often had quite messy interior finishing) and so very much hand stitching.  The inside looks so perfectly finished for my taste and achieves the ‘proper’ look in the end.  Thus, ignore the zipper and you can see that this is indeed what Charles James based his gowns on, especially the Babe Paley one I was inspired by (see picture of red dress above) when making my Tulip bodice (post here).  Look at how great it looks!  The fit feels similar to how a well-constructed 50s evening gown would be (I have tried a few on before).  This is an 1880s pattern, though, remember!  Sewing this bodice was the best tactile research project ever.

Now that I have sewn more than one item from Simplicity #5457, I can heartily recommend it.  The sizing is great and has a fit true to the charts.  I made no other tweaks besides lengthening the hem to the sleeves and adding in ‘reach room’, as I mentioned above “The Facts”.  I love how economical it is, too.  A whole Victorian set – bodice, skirt, and bustle decoration – out of 3 ½ yards (of main fabric) is impressive.  It comes together as easily as possible.  Even still, with all the tailoring, fitting, and finishing this is time consuming nevertheless so be prepared with a lot of patience, free time, and some sore fingertips.  This pattern is super versatile, as well, but that is the good thing about a simple design – you have a base for whatever strikes your fancy.  It is highly probable will be using this pattern again.

All of the detailing finishes were my own idea and design.  This includes the bustle adornment that is the trio of hanging tabs and not the little pleated rump peplum, which is attached to the bodice.  These were not part of the Simplicity pattern I was using for the main body of the bodice, but self-drafted or at least my own addition.  I drew up a frontispiece to cover the zipper and make it appear as if I have some sort of faux button placket.  It is tacked down to the bodice on the right side of the zipper and hooks closed on the left side.  One dozen decorative buttons decorated the frontispiece because Victorian fashions were opulent and extravagant, after all!  Then, the neckline and cuffs received the rope trim and then a thin, visible overlap of the same woolen which went towards my first Victorian apron drape (posted here).  Pieced together, I had just enough woolen scraps to make this idea work. 

I felt these additions added depth, interest, and complexity appropriate for the era.  Yet, as this was meant to be a basic and practical set, these decorative elements add the right touch of finery without any gold work, beading, or embroidery so common for the era – these were all too fancy for my intention.  The rope and woolen trimming were sandwiched in with every other seam’s construction except for on the bodice neckline and cuff hems, where it is hand tacked in place after the edges were fully finished.  I could not commit myself to what I wanted to add until after I could have to opportunity to try it on together with the skirt.

The bustle decoration is all I could make out of a few rectangles of material that were left from the bodice.  I think it is cute and different – totally my design while still convincingly Victorian inspired.  I didn’t want to overwhelm the simple apron drape with a draped booty bustle.  However, I was too short on fabric for that to be an option.  I have seen a few fashion images or extant garments which have basic bustle adornments that are similar to what I crafted for myself.  I lined the underside with matching fabric to cover up the raw edges so the tabs look just as good no matter which way they flap. I added more of the rope trimming (used on the bodice) into all the edges of the three hanging tabs to help them to be more decorative and seemingly intentional.  They were something I just cobbled together, after all!  In lieu of closures, I merely attached all three tabs to a length of brown satin ribbon (on hand, used to stabilize the inner waistline of my skirt) so I can tie it to my waist before I dress in my bodice…easy peasy and versatile!  

Just like for my first Victorian outfit, I was here again inspired by the brown and white dual tones worn by the woman on the far left in an original Godey Lady’s book original hand-tinted fashion page from April 1874 that is framed in my bedroom.  Besides my one book page print, however, I have found a plethora of fashion plates and extant 1880s garments which are in a variation of brown tones, contrasted by gold and/or white. Along that vein, I specifically wanted to complement the white of my blouse peeking out from under my bodice’s open neckline and ¾ sleeves.  My first apron drape was too bulky under the close fitting bodice, also seeming too fussy and drab when the skirt and bodice were matching.  I therefore merely hand draped a plain cut of yardage in a soft rayon to be my new skirt apron.  The plaid weave brightens up my overall brown tones and adds a level of simple sophistication with a touch of bright white, as I had wanted.  The plaid easily adds to the impression that there is more going on than there is (as it was super simple to incorporate it into my ensemble) yet keeps my set relatable.  Plaid was quite popular to use in women’s fashions of Victorian times throughout many countries.

My Indian sari pleating skills came in handy to “make” my skirt’s new apron drape…no stitching required other than to hem the fabric’s cut ends.  First, I asymmetrically tucked in the top half (most of one corner) to the plaid fabric panel into my waistline starting from my left side seam over to the other side of the center front.  Then, I hand pleated the free end, much like is done on a pallu (the decorative end) of a sari to drape it over the shoulder.  Finally, I brought it around to tuck the pleated end into my waist at the center back.  This process is so much easier to do in real life than to describe but it is really that simple – no pattern or sewing needed! 

I see many of such asymmetric apron drapes from the early to later half of the 1880s decade.  I love any asymmetric fashion and I feel that I can relate to Victorian styles better when I see them elegantly, artistically askew than perfectly uniform and proportionate.  The benefit to costuming in the 21st century is here again (as I mentioned above previously) the ability to customize a historical style to my own taste, ability, and budget.  I don’t know for sure if such asymmetric apron fronts were historically sewn or draped, or even something that would have been paired with such an outfit as this.  Yet, whatever seems to work for me and achieves my own interpretation of the 1880s works for me. 

I recognize I have a LOT to still learn about the nuances of Victorian fashion.  Thus, I ask those of you who know what you are doing more than I to go easy on me here.  I love my newest historical set and am proud of my progress in interpreting this era, especially since – up until recently – it has been something I never remotely figured I would ever be sewing or wearing.  Victorian dressing was something I have long been content to admire from a distance.  It seems to be very complicated to understand.  The styles adapted every year or two, especially between the 1870s and 1880s…bustle sitting high, bustle sitting low, elevated hairstyles, cascading hairstyles, short waistlines, long bodices – and all these in different combinations!  Things must have been confusing for women of those times who wanted to stay “on trend”.  At least tailors and seamstresses or even home sewists were probably very busy tweaking hemlines, adding extension panels, and making accessories to keep up. 

This newest Victorian set is a big step further into exploring that well of knowledge which is fashion history but I have a feeling this era will be much more challenging for me to get a hold of fully in my mind than anything from the 20th century.  I will keep trying, though!  I guarantee you this will not be my last Victorian project.  I just hope my next Victorian creation has such a fun time out as this one!  Ice skating in full Victorian garb is an event that will be hard to beat!

My Victorian Christmas

The royal Christmas tree is admired by Queen Victoria, Prince Albert & their children, December 1848

The popularity of Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” novel from 1843 is one a strong reason why Victorian fashion always seems to be the choice for a historical “old timey” flair to the winter holiday.  However, the celebratory traditions of the Victorian era do have a large part to play in the way Christmas has been celebrated in last 150 years.  The traditions of sending greetings to friends and family, caroling, the Father Christmas figure, glittering trees, and showy wrapped presents which spread good cheer and abundance were each not original to the Victorian era and were celebrated across the world for centuries before (in some cases).  Altogether, by the 1870s these practices were solidified into being one holiday, all thanks in part to the wide publicity of the way Britain’s Queen Victoria began celebrating Christmas with her family in the 1840s.

As much as I love the aesthetic of a Victorian Christmas, I have long been a confused but always captivated admirer when it comes to Victorian fashion.  What is with the big rear end?  Is it difficult to wear?  Why were the trained skirts so “extra” when there were dirt roads and hazardous carriage wheels to deal with? How can there be so many various trimmings (pleats, ribbons, ruffles, and beading) that actually look so good together?  Every detail in every fashion plate or extant original is so beautiful but also so unusual, with the fanciest Victorian ladies’ outfits a lot to look at, for sure. 

I actually have an original hand-tinted fashion page from April 1874 Godey’s Lady’s Book framed in my bedroom (see it in my post under “The Facts”) that speaks for my lurking obsession.  Did you know that in both 1850 and 1860 Godey’s printed an Americanized version of Queen Victoria’s Christmas scene with her family, and it is known as the first widely circulated picture of a decorated holiday evergreen in America? Art historian Karal Ann Marling called it “the first influential American Christmas tree”, and it certainly helped anchor the tradition for the Western Hemisphere by the 1870s.

I am a hands-on type of girl, though, and just admiring for years was eventually not going to cut it.  There was only one way to ultimately answer some of my internal queries and satisfy my fascination – attempt to sew my own Victorian wear.  My mom had recently given me her stash of historical costuming patterns, so I was conveniently set.  I figured Christmas was the best time to pick up this project for reasons listed in the paragraphs above, but especially with the local historic homes decked out in old time finery fit for a background setting which would be 1870s appropriate.  I also realized that I did not have historic clothing for the wintertime – the lack of which has now certainly been amended in the most fantastic way!

The recent purchase of a highly decorative vintage silk velvet jacket (possibly from the 1930s) which would remotely pass as Victorian gave me an easier introduction into sewing this new-to-me historical era.  Thus, for this outfit, I only had the make the skirt and the apron drapery which goes over the skirt.  The jacket gave me a ‘starting point’ idea to work off of, as well as having half of my outfit ready-to-go.  Luckily, I already had a reproduction blouse on hand, a 1880s Red Threaded corset, a lightly boned bum pannier, and my 1860s undergarments (made by me, yet to be posted) to help the rest of the outfit easily come together.  My Grandmother’s brooch pins down a lacey pocket square serving as a ruffled neck cravat.

Using the vintage jacket for my bustle set hints at a running theme I will be having here on my blog for 2022 – the revivals of historical styles which can be found in vintage fashion of the 21st century.  More on this coming soon!  On a basic level, the ‘not-true-Victorian’ jacket helped me remember to not be so hard on myself if I don’t get my first Victorian outfit perfectly historically correct.  Many of today’s most popular costumers are not strict about accuracy as much as I remember from being in re-enacting groups 20 plus years ago, but I am my own worst critic.  The older in era I sew, I want to be as accurate as is reasonable for both my means and my sanity (my Middle Ages dress is an exception). 

I acutely realize sewing is a journey and – especially for historical clothing – one can learn so much during the push to continue to trudge forward through challenges.  Looking back at the visible proof of that progress is something to be proud of, which is why I still love to wear things I sewed 10 and even 20 years ago.  I am confident this my first Victorian set will be very versatile to me, and be a work in progress that I will appreciate having made when I did…the way I did.  I have previously sewn and worn garments from the decades with bookend the Victorian era – Regency and Edwardian – so I am happy with anything fun, fancy, and swishy which fills that void.

picture of Lillian Robert from the DeMenil house

The location for my photos is the historic Chatillon–DeMenil Mansion, located in St. Louis, Missouri.  Construction on the house was begun in 1848 on a five-acre tract of the pioneer Henry Chatillon, somewhat famous as the leader of an Oregon Trail expedition.  In 1855, the house had then been enlarged to its present Late Greek Revival style form under the new ownership of prominent businessman Nicolas DeMenil and his wife Emilie Sophie Chouteau, the descendant of both of the founders of St. Louis.  Being a Victorian house, it was decked out in all of the era’s holiday finery.  I was so happy to hear the docent comment that I looked like an 1870s picture of Lillian Robert, the wife of the house’s heir Alexander DeMenil!      

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a dark brown herringbone printed cotton flannel for the skirt, with poly felt – leftover from this hat project – to support the hem (I’ll explain more about down below) and a 100% wool twill for the apron drapery

PATTERN:  Simplicity #5457, from Andrea Schewe, labelled as ‘Victorian 1880s’, from year 2003

NOTIONS NEEDED:  Lots and lots of thread went towards this project – I finished up about four 250 yard spools.  Other than that, I needed lots of size 2 hook and eyes.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The skirt combo took me about 30 plus hours to make (a large part of it by hand) and it was finished on November 30, 2021.

THE INSIDES:  all edges are tightly stitched over for a simple edge finish

TOTAL COST:  The dark brown skirt flannel was bought on sale at my local JoAnn store for $5 a yard – with 3 ½ yards, my total is about $18.  I’m counting the wool apron drapery as free because it was rummage scraps I picked up as part of a “$1 a bag” second-hand sale of material.  All notions were already on hand, most from my paternal grandmother’s stash.  What a reasonable way to dive into Victorian dressing, right?!?

the Godey April 1874 print in my bedroom

For women’s wear, the shape and placement of the underpinnings, as well as the size of the overall silhouette, changes subtly but still significantly over the span of less than any given 5 years throughout the general Victorian era (1837 to 1901).  I kept close to the year of my bedroom’s Godey print – 1874 – as my main inspiration, because that is what I see on a regular basis!  Nevertheless, the 1870s & 1880s is often seen as the classic trademark look of the “bustle era” to the Victorian period, and veering closer to the 1870s suited everything I had to work with already.  I do think that the date of 1880 for the Andrea Schewe pattern is at least 5 years too late – the late 1870s shifted into a more curvy natural form look for a number of years before returning to the full bustle.   

From my research into bustle era looks, it seems my outfit is more of an interpretive mix of trends which ranged between 1870 and 1876.  My velvet jacket has a natural waistline length, with close fitting sleeves that are set in at my natural shoulder in line with pre-1873 fashion.  My reproduction blouse and my jacket both have fuller wrists, as seen circa 1873.  Hoop skirts were just beginning to be replaced in 1869, so amplified rear ends at this time (early 1870s) were rather tame compared to the late bustle era.  The overskirt’s apron fronts and draped backs were detachable and shorter than any overlay that came post 1876.  These details are everything that this Andrea Schewe pattern has, hence my skepticism of the cover’s date.  Nevertheless, all of these historical details also happily suited my working with scraps, using what I had, and trying make this outfit on a budget.  I still used quality fabrics which would have been utilized for a garment back then, and my entire outfit – inside and out – is cotton, wool, or silk.  My hubby actually found the fabrics I used for my skirts – he has been trained well to know what material I like and is an expert at finding a good deal!

It is actually a very versatile set for historical dressing.  I am hoping to make a different overskirt and more dramatic drape in the future, as well as a matching bodice, so I can turn my underskirt from the current “walking outfit of a comfortably wealthy middle class woman” into a fancier, trained outfit of a wealthier woman.  Yes, visible appearance of class status was what was done back then, for better or for worse.  Finding out about the way women of different classes dressed is how we study Victorian fashion today, and understand them when modern costumers choose what to recreate.  I myself like a more practical look for a lot of my historic garments.  I enjoy wearing things that might have seen more use and been worn by more people like me perhaps.  It’s all part of my “stepping back in time” idea, I suppose (which I discussed here in this post, already).  It is also easier to start off basic and work up to some intricate finery!  

The skirt and its apron drape were really quite simple to make – the hardest part was adjusting to a different silhouette.  All the accoutrements, such as the pannier for the bustle back, petticoats, and a corset, too, needed to be tied, laced, and hooked on myself in between construction fittings to see how my two pieces would work for me.  I had a good beginner’s outlook to power me through.  After reading a few blogs (this post was especially helpful), I figured out that the best way for me to approach Victorian bustle outfits were to view them as nothing more than a bodice with a two part skirt – underskirt and overskirt (which consists of the front apron and the back drape).  No big deal…they just require a lot more material and in much weirder pattern shapes than what I am used to sewing.  Once I got my head wrapped around the undergarments and foundation, then I could understand what my end goal was and not be completely mystified during the construction process of my bustled skirts. 

I wanted warm fabrics in a natural materials, so my basic underskirt is flannel.  My hubby found a flannel that has a wonderful two-toned herringbone weave.  This makes such a basic cotton appear as if it was a brushed wool, or a suiting, and provides interesting texture.  To continue the warmth factor, and level up the underskirt, the apron and its draped overskirt are my wool twill remnants.  I would never have used such a fine woolen if it hadn’t have been small, hacked up remnants which were completely moth chewed (it was like this when we found it, hence it was offered as good as free). 

I normally dislike using really nice material on historical costuming clothing mainly because I get sad over the fact it will not see much wear when compared to my regular wardrobe.  If an expensive fabric will help my project turn out a successful recreation of my ideal I have no problem diving all in.  It is all about give-and-take.  However, it is ideal for me when a fine fabric has existing issues too obvious for a more fashionable design.  The deep folds of the pleated apron front drape hide moth chews big enough to slip a pencil through.  It also hides the seaming I did to come up with pieces which just barely fit the patterns.  I had to improvise my own back overskirt drape because of the lack of material, too.  I really wanted something more impressive over my bustled back, but I am just as happy to have ‘rescued’ a nice – but damaged – material from the trash bin.   

The way the details are put together are a mix of finely done and rather unorthodox.  In lieu of a proper waistband for both underskirt and overskirt, I used brown satin ribbon turned under inside for easy finishing and for stability.  Cotton flannel relaxes too much to trust to just interfacing (I’ve learned) and there was nothing left but tiny scraps of the woolen.  All hems and top stitching at the waist was prick stitched invisibly most just because I couldn’t find a color thread to match.  I just couldn’t bear the thought of a harsh solid stitching line jarring my efforts thus far to make a nice historical outfit here.  The extra mile is worth it to me…which is why I also spent so much more effort on the underskirt hem than what would be expected just looking at it.  Again, flannel is awfully limp, and my skirt hem needed some body, weight, and stability.  I cut a wide 5 inch strip of felt for the entirety of the skirt bottom, and tucked it inside the flannel hemline.  I have read and heard from my fellow historical costumers that Victorian and Edwardian skirt hemlines could be stabilized with canvas, horsehair braid, or some sort of interfacing to help the silhouette of the skirt.  Again, I was just working with what I had available.  The felt does a great job at doing just what I hoped it would do.  For never doing something like this before, I was really overwhelmed at this step.

The jacket is a very interesting blend of the old and the new, too.  The exterior is an older silk velvet, I can tell, especially by inspecting the decorative stitching, but the interior has modern poly chiffon lining.  When I bought it, someone had done some very pretty creative modern up-cycling to make it what it is today.  Subtle brown stains, indistinguishable in the fancy stitching, makes me assume this must have had shattered lining and different closures and been in a rather sad state.  I was happy to see another sewist’s great job of mending and thrilled to have a vintage piece (at a great deal, I must add) which didn’t need me to find the free time I don’t have for garment repair…all I had to do was enjoy wearing it.

The apron overskirt, as it was patterned, has these peculiar but very smart back yoke panels which reign in the deep side pleats, keeping them smooth under the back bustled drape (attached down halfway, also for ease of dressing).  I like the way the smooth helps the overskirt fit and lay in an uncomplicated way, yet I also do not know if this is a modern adaptation or a true historical but little used overskirt detail.  I have not yet seen such a feature on any other Victorian bustle skirt patterns through other companies, or even extant garments, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possibly out there and I haven’t yet seen it.  Other costumers or historical seamstresses, come jump in the comments and let me know about this overskirt yoke!

Perhaps the hardest learning curve of going Victorian was attempting a 1870s hairstyle.  I bought a 7 piece fake hair clip-on extension kit at 18” length to add to my existing hair and followed this YouTube tutorial from “Silvousplaits” (highly recommend, by the way).  I played around with my “new hair” for several hours the night before my event to get used to working with it, and so the styling as you see it here is my 3 third attempt.  If I had bought a 22” fake hair extension set I might have been able to try the second draped and twisted hairstyle in the “Silvousplaits” video or even had my braid go all the way around.  I used hair flowers to cover up the raw end of the braid, with all the pins I needed to keep the silky fake hair in place, and utilized a basic hair comb to hold the braid down at my top crown.  Victorian hair was fancy anyway, so I really don’t feel bad about having to use something extra in my up-do – the fake flowers and greenery add a nice splash of color in my half-fake hairstyle. 

Again, after explaining my hair situation, I am going back to my old feeling that Victorian fashion is so weird.  I have never before used fake hair and I am not used to having to use more than what nature has bestowed upon me.  Just based off of my experience with trying to re-enact the bustle era fashion, I can see why the Victorian period is often criticized as the era for keeping up unrealistic appearances.  My hair is half not mine, my body is restricted into a then-societal expected shape, and I have a fake caged booty.  What a woman wore back then told every spectator of her class, marital, and monetary status.   There were many wars and shifting of national boundaries at that time.  I would not have wanted to be a part of that era, and find it interesting in a different way than I do for the 20st century’s history.  I can’t relate in the way I can for the era my Grandparents lived through, but Victorian times had so many goings-on and such a shift in many aspects of life that the new Industrialism and colonial actions brought about…it is the history buff’s dream.  I like the fact Victorian times were the beginning of what we think of as modern living conditions, even if women’s fashion still had a good way to go before it too was ‘modern’.      

Perhaps a Victorian Christmas is too much for your taste.  Whatever way you celebrate this holiday, I give you my wishes for a happy, peaceful, and healthy holiday which will leave you with good memories, warm feelings, and a full tummy!  Yay – we made it this far through the year of 2021!  Now, for one more week to go so we can walk into 2022…  

Free From My Tower

I suspect that many of us can now empathize (or commiserate) to some small degree with the fairy tale girl Rapunzel, who was locked up in a tower for the whole of her young life.  Being kept from social situations, apart from friends and family, as well as seeing the same limited spaces all too frequently during the pandemic has been very trying for me…I can’t dare to imagine a 16 year solitude!  Thus, I am here portraying a Rapunzel liberated from her tower, barefoot and free amongst nature, wearing my interpretation of a Bavarian Edelweiss dirndl to honor the Germanic version of the fairy tale.  My hair may not be blonde, nor is it remotely long enough to be comparable Rapunzel’s tresses, yet I was really feeling the part here nevertheless.  Enjoy the fun vintage spin with cultural heritage that I wove into my dirndl for a Bavarian take on this popular character – yet another installment to my ongoing Disney inspired “Pandemic Princess” blog series

The classic “Rapunzel” is a fairy tale that Friedrich Schulz printed in 1790 in Kleine Romane (Little Novels), followed by the Brothers Grimm publishing it in 1812 as part of Children’s and Household Tales.  Tied to the witch of the story, Rapunzel’s name is given to her because of the German word for a salad vegetable.  Although the Grimm’s recounting of the fairy tale is the most prevalent version of the “Maiden in the Tower” in the western literature, the basic storyline has strong origins to French and Mediterranean tales rather than to Germanic oral folktales, as once believed.

However, the only version that I particularly enjoy is Disney’s “Tangled” from 2010. It’s a 3D animated film loosely based on the Rapunzel fairytale with an added, appealing twist – she’s born a princess with magical hair whose ‘rescue’ is tied to the character redemption of the handsome scoundrel Eugene, aka Flynn Rider. 

Do not be confused though, as I am posting this just before Halloween – it is not meant to be a costume!  I am of German ancestry myself, and esteem and appreciate wearing a garment which is intrinsic to the story of my heritage.  Cultural attire of any kind is NEVER a costume for misinterpretation or joking about.  I made this as a true dirndl, attempting remain authentic to its heritage while also being modern enough to be very wearable for me to enjoy outside of Oktoberfest or ethnic settings.  If you go by past standards, yes, I am channeling someone that I am not – an unmarried girl of the Alpine region – with my choices of color and style inspired by a commercial Disney retelling of an old German fairytale.  Yes, I am sadly missing and apron here, too…I normally do follow a more old-fashioned expression for this kind of clothing.  This is only a ‘costume’ for me in the older, sensible, “uncountable noun” term of the word – a set of clothing, just like anything else in my wardrobe, for expressing who I am in this time and place, not a characterization of another race or culture.

Dirndls of nowadays, however, are not as confined to older traditions that designate them to be a visual statement on your state and condition of life (I will address more on this topic further down in my post).  Today we have to freedom to wear what we want, how we want.  Nevertheless, cultural clothing like a sari, a kimono, a kilt, or a dirndl (for just a few examples), always needs to be worn with proper context, understanding, and respect.   I have sadly seen way too many ‘influencers’ on social media this month wearing a dirndl has a costume, especially for “Lord of the Rings” themed Hobbit parties.  History has many deep tales to tell and perspectives to teach, along with amazing people to hear about, so let’s open up to all those lessons by respecting garments that express cultural identity.  Is there a garment for you that signifies your ancestor’s’ heritage?

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a 100% cotton Alexander Henry fabric dated to 1999 (seen on the selvedge) in the “chloe” floral print, with solid color jacquard woven cotton for the contrast front and sleeves, a sheer matching colored poly chiffon for the ¾ length undersleeves, and fabric leftover from sewing this vintage hat went towards making the tiny tubing which is my front dirndl lacing

PATTERN:  Butterick #6352, a vintage inspired Gertie design

NOTIONS:  Lots of thread, lots of interfacing (for the entire bodice), one zipper, and a set of traditional dirndl hooks

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This dress was sewn in about 20 hours and it was finished on October 7, 2020.

THE INSIDES:  cleanly bias bound edges

TOTAL COST:  practically nothing – this fabric was picked up at a second-hand thrift sale where fabric is sold for $1 per pound.  The 3 yard cut of this thick, substantial fabric was kind of hefty, so it was probably just a few dollars.  The rest of my supplies was all items on hand for longer than I remember or leftover from another project, so I’m counting that stuff as free!

I loved being able to start off this project with such a high end cotton with starting place tied to that of Disney and a date that reminds me of just how long “Tangled” was in the works before its completion. The concept of an animated film based on the Brothers Grimm fairy tale “Rapunzel” originated from Disney supervising animator Glen Keane in 1996.  Keane pitched the idea in 2001 to then-Disney CEO Michael Eisner who approved it, but requested the film to be computer-animated. 

My 1999 fabric hits right in between those preliminary dates for the film.  Alexander Henry is a premier textile design house, producing original cotton prints for product manufacturers and home sewists alike from their talented artists who hand-paint each design the line produces.  Their business is located in Burbank, California which is also the corporate headquarters for Walt Disney Studios!  We drove through Burbank on our way in to Los Angeles a few years back, and it was so nice, with great shopping opportunities!  I love weaving in little details and cool correlations to my outfits, but especially so when they all come together without even trying, such as for this dress.  It also happened to be the perfect purple-pink orchid tone for a Rapunzel frock!  It was such a soft, thick, and fabulously lovely cotton!  I love how serendipitous this project came together.

Now, knowing that Disney’s story base was the German version of Rapunzel, I looked beyond the artistic license of the animation to see that her dress was intrinsically a dirndl.  It was the laced front, the puffed sleeves, (faux) apron, and the neckline shaping that give it away for me.  This would make total sense, anyways.  Dirndls are an established manner of local dressing, an organic means of freely expressing cultural identity, for Bavaria, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and more.  They are not just for Oktoberfest.  “Fashion With Renée” relates that back in 1626, the Bavarian Prince, Maximilian I created a ‘dress code’ to show people’s rank in society. The law separated people into seven groups and noted that farmers (and the lower class workers) were not allowed to wear imported clothing…and thus the dirndl was adopted for women, just as the lederhosen was for men.  The Bavarian Alps are located in what is now Germany (since 1945) near the southern border of the federal state of Bavaria and continue across the border into Austria.  

“Girl Sewing”, 1869 by William-Adolphe Bouguereau. This is a great example of the romanticism of the peasant life that brought the dirndl to the consciousness of the aristocratic class. Our picture is of an original oil painting, from a 2019 exhibit at the Memphis, Tennessee Brooks Museum of Art.

Beginning in the early 1800s, aristocrats, upper classes, and even artists romanticized rural living of the Alpine regions.  That eminent Habsburg the Archduke Johann of Styria (briefly Regent of Germany in 1848 to ’49) sported traditional Tyrolean styles in his coats and jackets, and his famous nephew, the Emperor Franz Joseph I, was a great hunter of the Alps who also was an aficionado appreciative of the rustic designs of the region.  In 1900, two Jewish brothers, Julius and Moritz Wallach, opened a clothing store in the Bavarian city of Munich and had the clever and successful idea of marketing dirndls and lederhosen as a kind of urban “rural chic”, transforming them into a fashion trend.  The Wallach name was renowned for their famous custom printed folk textile prints, even offering fashion shows of Bavarian and Austrian wear in their cloth.  (See this excellent blog post here for more info on the Wallach history.)  Thus the dirndl (and lederhosen, too) became both more universally adopted and overall more vibrantly fashionable.  Much of this energy and growth was snuffed around the time WWII began, only for Germanic clothing to find a comeback for the 1972 summer Olympics in Munich.   Today in 2021 they are having a moment in popularity again with an exhibit “’Dirndl – Tradition Goes Fashion” at the Mamorschloessl palace (former summer residence of Emperor Franz Joseph I) in Bad Ischl, Upper Austria.

Vivienne Westwood dirndl on display at the “Tradition Goes Fashion” exhibit in Bad Ischl, Austria, 2021.

On a local level, in the 150 years before the 1940s, many new, organic traditions were evolving around the dirndl to make the wearer’s marital, economic, and regional status be something visibly recognizable by the every detail of one’s manner of dress. For example, an apron knot tied on a woman’s left hip meant she was unmarried, the right meant married, while the center back meant she was either engaged or otherwise working at her job (so leave her alone).  Married women were more restricted in colors to choose from while single girls were permitted the flowered hair crowns and the prettiest variety of tones.  These are just a few of the many, interesting, and beautiful traditions surrounding an old-style wearing of the dirndl.

The rich pastel colors that Rapunzel is wearing properly designates her as a young unmarried woman while the laced bodice with the dirndl hooks ties it to the Alpine region, which would be the perfect place to hide the tower the witch uses to imprison her.  However, I am so excited to have thought out not just her dress but about the main symbol associated to Disney’s Rapunzel – the golden sun of her parents’ Kingdom of Corona.  I see it as reminiscent of an edelweiss flower, also called the “mountain star”.  

The Edelweiss is such a long-standing Alpine symbol – it’s still on everything from Swiss airline planes, beer cans, club logos, coats-of-arms, money, and certain uniforms for army officials and mountain troops in Germany and the Bavarian Alps.  Again, it was the Austrian Emperor Franz Joseph I who popularized a renewed passion for the edelweiss flower in 1856, when he made a point of gifting the flowers, picked during a hike in the mountains, to his beloved wife the Empress “Sissi”.  As I wanted a simple outfit without jewelry, the most natural (and practical) way to add this Alpine symbol was to order a set of edelweiss flower dirndl hooks, ordered direct from a shop in Bavaria that sells tract supplies (link here).  The pattern called for loops to be sewn in anyway, so decorative hooks for the front tie was a prettier, more interesting, more authentic to have a laced-front dirndl.  The way they show the long and short petals radiating out in a staggered, wavy fashion perfectly embodies Disney’s Rapunzel Corona sun symbol while still being specifically Bavarian.  I love how beautiful the hooks are on my dress. They bring out the color of the golden flowers in the print and shimmered in the sunset glow for this post’s pictures.  

Lacing is not necessary to the front of a dirndl, but one of the many decorative elements that are optional yet also traditional.  Because it is not a corset, a dirndl normally has a closure on its own separate from embellishments – here the dress has a center closing zipper.  Lacing is a traditional Bavarian feature, but dirndls often have a front buttoning closure instead, especially ones from Germany (such as a “Black Forest” dirndl, which I have posted more about here).  A dirndl has a stable, substantial bodice, which is why it was fully interfaced just as the Gertie pattern instructs.  Most Gertie patterns call for boning, which I thought would have been overkill here, so I did leave it off for my version.  Dirndls have a close fit with little excess wearing ease, which was how the pattern fit anyway after choosing my matching size according to the given chart.  It is not confining, though, but fits me perfectly because of the pattern’s excellent curving drafted into the princess seams. 

The way a dirndl’s front bodice panels (in between the lacing) are often in a different fabric, or at least highly decorative either by adding embroidery or lace, is reminiscent to their old and hazy origins to a corset.  Either way, for my center panels I used a heavy cotton jacquard that alternates stripes with a tiny floral.  It was just a remnant on hand, and it happily matched the Alexander Henry print I used for the rest of the dress.  Disney’s Rapunzel had striped sleeves so I was originally led to choosing this contrast fabric from my stash so I could have a similar look on my dress, but then carried it over into the front panels to incorporate it into the dress, just as many dirndls do.  The open U-neckline is another classic dirndl feature, and such a pretty one for framing the face.  I see dipped U-necklines pop up a lot in the late 1940s (see this ’49 one I made back when I started blogging) into the 1950s, and Gertie herself says this pattern of hers is strongly 50’s inspired, after all.   

Whether or not the skirt is the easy part depends on how much detail and what level of quality you want to achieve. Some dirndls have tiny, even pleats going completely around the waist, and the high end ones are sometimes smocked, but many are merely gathered into a waistband – the simplest method by far. I chose that last mentioned option, using fabric left (about two yards) from cutting out the rest of dress, making sure to have the selvedge be the hemline to save myself some trouble!

My chiffon undersleeves are a custom addition.  Not only do they bring my dirndl closer to a Rapunzel look alike, but they help my dress look polished.  They add a nice touch of color and a differing texture that helps make it more interesting, in my opinion.  They help my puffed short sleeves stay controlled, most importantly.  I did wear my dress for a short time without the undersleeves, and the puff sleeves crept up my arm and ended up looking weird.  I just used a very basic, skinny fitting, long sleeve pattern piece from another pattern (don’t remember which one), sewed it in under the puffed sleeves, and then shortened to the length I wanted.  The two sleeves are tacked together around the cuff of the outer puff sleeves and the hem kept simple by a bead of Fray-Check liquid.

It was so awesome how this Gertie pattern has so many authentic dirndl details under the guise of being a cute, vintage style dress.  This is a great pattern I highly recommend.  Granted, it is a mark of 20th century modernization for a dirndl to suddenly be a one-piece garment, instead of separates – skirt, dirndl (under) blouse, dirndl (vest) blouse, apron, and an optional collar.  Just like any other culture, traditional clothes tend to evolve along with the changing needs and the present history of the culture they are a part of, yet traditional elements still remain.  In the decades between WWI and WWII, the groundbreaking research of Austrian Jewish anthropologist Eugenie Goldstern showed how the Alpine culture has not been static, or overly set in its ways, but has adapted over the centuries since ancient times when King Charlemange was hunting in the region and was impressed by the sturdy, warm Loden cloth of the region.   

Many of the cultural stereotypes for Germany originate from the Bavarian Alps, yet ironically it only composes less than 10% of Germany’s total area.  All too often stereotypes have the facts warped or screwed up to the point that the actualities are understood in a distorted way.  Popular understanding of history doesn’t automatically equal truth.  I love to uncover facts that get overlooked or forgotten for a clearer picture.  I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into the history, lore, and traditions surrounding a dirndl – if you fancy more, read my last post on the other German fairytale princess Snow White, as well as my post on my “Black Forest” dirndl interpretation.  Maybe the next time you hear of Rapunzel, or visit an Oktoberfest, I will have given you a different, deeper outlook!  As you can tell, I became totally invested in taking on this particular fairytale through the lens of my heritage.  I do admire a girl who can grow her hair that long.  I’m pretending I’m the Rapunzel who got her hair cut after being free from her isolation, ha!

“It’s A Jolly Holiday with You…”

Of all the fairytale heroines, ladies of history, or those who are more realistic in their legend, there is perhaps no woman more universally intriguing and appealing than the one who is ‘practically perfect in every way’ – Mary Poppins.  Oh, how I desperately needed a bit o’ cheer this Halloween. 

Thus, even though we played it safe and had none of the ‘normal’ activities to enjoy, I felt there was all the more reason to finally delight in fulfilling a long-standing costume goal.  Since we love a good dual outfit for a couple, my husband dressed as Bert the cheerful, spry chimney sweep and I as the nanny with magical powers.  You know what?  We ended up having the best jolly holiday!  Dare I say it was Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?!

Perhaps the best part to my outfit was the antique authenticity which went into it.  I used 2 yards of old turn-of-the-century eyelet fabric to make the skirt after the manner of the popular “lingerie dresses” of the early 1900s.  Then, I also altered and mended a true antique ruffled underslip for the matching (proper to the era) layer underneath.  Both items just recently happened to come my way at an incredible bargain.  I was more than thrilled to have an excellent reason to take care of and restore such precious items for a good reason.  It was for more than either just dressing up historically or just for a costume for a night.  It was to recreate a beloved character from the childhood of both hubby and myself and interpret that through a true-to-the-era means, using my sewing capabilities.  This was all very redeeming, and the best way to dress up as Mary Poppins that I could have ever imagined.  I’m glad I waited until now to attempt her famous, sumptuous, red and white “Jolly Holiday” outfit.

So the bottom half of my set is over a century old…the top half mostly is not, even though it may look like it.  The blouse is modern, bought from the GAP over this 2020 summer.  It is made in a very convincing 1900 appropriate way, with cotton lace inserted in rows across the chest, loads of whitework floral embroidery and pin tuck detailing, all in a sheer and lightweight cotton.  This blouse was incredibly popular on social media, so much so that the historical costumers started the #GapToThePast trend.  Yet, I was slow to join in on the fad and by the time I looked to order my own, all that was left was a size bigger than what I needed.  No big deal – I bought it anyways as it was on deep clearance!  To adjust the size for me, I merely added more pin tucks horizontally around the sleeve to slightly raise up the long length, and moved over the cuff buttons to fit my smaller wrists.  One little red satin ribbon bow was all that I added for a subtle Mary Poppins reference!

The belt I made myself, drafted it from scratch and used some red felt from on hand.  To make it more of a sturdy and structured piece, I added thick cotton canvas interfacing in between the felt layers.  My personal taste doesn’t really like the way the original movie belt almost appears more akin to a corset, yet I did realize my version needed some slight structure to keep the points sharp.  I remembered what I learned from constructing this boned 80’s era sun top, and used the same plastic zip ties into channels across the front and the side seam points.  I did choose white top stitching for a nod to the original movie design, but the contrast thread gets drowned out by the plushness of the lofty red felt.  A hook and eye closes the back.  This may be the least historical part of my attempt at a 1900s appropriate Mary Poppins – but at least I did scale down the belt size compared to the original.  How could I possibly leave this part of the ensemble out, though, after all? 

Vintage style remake boots by “Funtasma”, an original 1920s era silk umbrella, and the “Jolie” Short Cotton Steel Boned Corset from “Glamorous Corset” worn under it all completes my accessories.  Hidden underneath is an original antique corset cover, too, something I picked up years back now.  Finally it can be paired with a whole ensemble!  This blog post from “The Fashion Archaeologist” helped immensely towards clearly understanding all the layers and garment pieces which were needed to have this outfit be historical. My first attempt at turn-of-the-century fashion circa 1905 can be seen at this post.

Let’s go back to the amazing antique items that made this outfit idea work, for a moment though.  I could tell the two yards of eyelet fabric had been cut off of a dress.  The punctured holes of rows of stitching along the top and set pleat folds gave that information away.   I counted my blessings that were weren’t any stains, tears, holes, shredding or damage of any kind to be seen.  Yet, it is so lightweight and sheer.  How is this even possible on something which is this old…and pure white to boot?!?  The hand stitched eyelet holes (each opening is literally different from each other and uneven up close, thus hand crafted) and the wonderful thin yet sturdy and soft qualities of the material make me believe it is from circa 1900. 

The petticoat slip is on the left, the eyelet skirt is on the right. Look at how the eyelet openings were worked through the original tiny 1/8 inch french seam through the material!!!

The ruffled petticoat slip is also equally amazing in the amount of detailing – so much inserted lace, yards of ruffles, and over 20 rows of pintucks!  The slip is in a much coarser and stiffer cotton than the outer eyelet skirt.  The crisp cotton could either be highly starched or merely a heavier weight, yet it does a great job at poufing the skirt out with the help of all the details (pin tucks, ruffles).  Again, like the eyelet, this slip was in perfect, pristine condition but completely missing any closures.  

Unlike most turn-of-the-century antique pieces, these were the perfect opportunity to have something in a very modern waist size.  The eyelet fabric was customized to be pleated into a waistband I made to my own size using bleached all cotton muslin.  Modern cotton cannot compare to old cotton – the antique cotton is much superior in all qualities.  Basic, modern muslin is soft, sturdy, and the best I can do at the moment. 

After examining so many images of Lingerie Dress on Pinterest, Etsy, Ebay and such I decided on a very technical, and very tiny method of ¼ inch triple layered pleats to bring the two yards into the waistband.  For as full as those skirts are they seem to have very little pleating, so this method made the most sense to me.  Doing such tiny pleats took me a few hours of insane measuring and pinning but it was worth it.  That era was all about amazing skill, high-quality, and details not seen elsewhere.  The tiny ‘pleat on top of a pleat on top of a pleat’ method also keeps the skirt fullness controlled.  It’s a pity they are completely covered up by the belt.   Old antique hook and eyes were sewn into the back to close the skirt.

The slip originally had a 9 inch wide waistband – why, I don’t know, but this lent itself to an easy refashion.  Across, there was a very tiny 20 inch waistband circumference…let that sink in for a moment.  Just imagine the wearer.  The way the overall length of the slip was rather mid-length on me, who is someone only 5’3”, makes me wonder if this slip was for a tiny teen.  Whomever the owner was, a 20” waist is mind blowing.  This would not do for me, even with a corset.  I took off the existing waistband, cut the width in half lengthwise to end up with two 5 by 20” rectangles.  These two were sewn together into a waistband length to fit me and the slip skirt was re-gathered in a hand-stitched down together again.   

However, now that I had something wearable, the length of this slip (as I mentioned) was about 5 inches shorter than the length of the eyelet skirt, and this would not do.   I did have some 6 inch wide cotton pre-gathered eyelet lace on hand which I had been saving for an 1860s era hoop skirt slip.  I sacrificed it to add on to the bottom of the existing eyelet hem of this 1900s slip.  It may not be the perfect match, but it adds enough length to be equal to the hem of the eyelet skirt plus making my Mary Poppins look extra floofy! It’s so fun!

Mary’s outfit is really a cheesy Hollywood version of an earlier decade I believe, but this was my most natural way to interpret her.  The Dreamstress defines them as thus (posted here) “Lingerie dresses were lightweight dresses, usually in white or an off-white shade, featuring pintucks, inset lace, tone-on-tone embroidery, and other delicate detailing, usually worn as summer wear in the late 19th and first quarter of the 20th century.  They were usually made of cotton, and slightly less frequently in linen, with more expensive versions were made in silk. They are called ‘lingerie dresses’ or ‘lingerie frocks’ because the materials used (cotton and light laces) and embellishment techniques (inset lace, faggoting, pintucks) were originally used for petticoats, chemises, and other forms of lingerie.”  This garment would have made sense for Mary to wear on a summer holiday outing of fun and frolics.  (You can visit my Pinterest page “Historical Lingerie Dresses” for some eye candy!) I have always wanted one of these kind of outfits, and they are either not in my size or out of my price range.  Even though this set is still not my ideal (which is a full one-piece dress) having something is way better than nothing!  Again, I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to see and appreciate these old materials and restore them to a wearable state!

I want to revisit our outfits again and find a proper hat to match my dress, too.  After all, a lady like Mary was not seen outdoors without her hat if she could help it, even with all her umbrella flying and carousel horse racing.  Also, we want to go to a thrift store and find items which can be turned into the bold, striped suit set of Bert from the “Jolly Holiday” sequence.  According to my plan, an obnoxious Bert striped suit refashion will probably include some fun fabric painting to make it work.  Until then, my vintage silk scarf and items he hand on hand filled in for his chimney sweeper’s outfit.  It’s amazing how the love for Mary Poppins transcends people’s age and stays with them for years.  We just now introduced our son to the original 60s film to pass it onto the next generation.

I hope you had as safe and happy of a Halloween as we did!  I also hope you enjoyed this dive into something a little different – an era out of the ordinary here on my blog, while presenting sewing techniques more about repairing and finishing methods.  Sewing knowledge is good for more than just creating from scratch…it is also good for carrying on the loving attention to well-made garments of ages past.  This preservationist creativity is the only reason we are able to see historical garments in museums.  Granted, I fixed up these antique items to wear, but they will only go out on a holiday jaunt and be well cared for otherwise.  As I currently have old original items which date back almost every decade from now to the 1870s, I suppose I’m starting my own little museum at this point.  Would you like to see more of my original extant pieces here on the blog?  Also, where are my fellow Mary Poppins fans out there?