Halloween is a night of frights and fun. Yet, what could be scarier, while also thrilling for a historical enthusiast such as myself, than the opportunity to restore and subsequently wear truly antique clothing? Who needs the story of Frankenstein, when you can resurrect a tangible vestige from the past through old garments? Who needs a visit from a ghost, when old clothes carry the stories of someone’s life within every seam?
Living out history in an authentic ‘costume’ of years past is my favorite way to precariously play dress up. It’s frightful not knowing if my clothes will fall apart while I am gallivanting around in museum worthy pieces. In all seriousness, though, these old items came to me as ‘wounded birds’, teaching me new skills and new lessons in history. My outfit’s Edwardian era items are surprisingly looking as good as new again after hours of intense restorative efforts. They are back in their gloriously elegant proper provenance, as you will see in my pictures…because what better way to give this century set its new spin on the town than for a tour of an old mansion? This is my kind of way to do something both scary and sensational for Halloween.
To clarify, my outfit’s hat and skirt are the original Edwardian items that I restored, and they date to 1906 (give or take a year). I am holding an old antique silk umbrella with a decoratively carved handle, an impressive find to enjoy considering it is in mint condition and fully workable even though it is from circa 1910. My cameo brooch and earrings are 1960s vintage accessories from my paternal grandmother’s estate. The blouse is a modern reproduction item ordered from “Simple Retro” Company, while my belt is an Edwardian look-alike sewn to order from this fantastic shop on Etsy. Of course, my entire undergarments were strictly Edwardian, too, and were a combo of my handmade and antique pieces (as discussed in both this post and this one), with my corset being a store-bought modern reproduction. It blows my mind that such a high percentage of my outfit was over 100 years old!
Age can be just a number for clothing. Certain items can last many years if stored in the right conditions and treated properly. On the flip side, antique items are merely organic compounds in some way. Even the best preservation efforts are merely a fight against the demise of time. When I bought both the hat and skirt, they were luckily still inherently strong for their unwearable state and took well to the inevitable (albeit gentle) ‘man-handling’ that my restoration efforts required. I only paid $20 for the hat and about $40 for the skirt from an antique shop that was closing down, so even if my repairs went awry (which was doubtful but possible), these two items were saved from the landfill for very little cost.
Such favorable conditions for extensive repairs is one of the major factors to these two pieces becoming something I planned on wearing and not just collectible acquisitions to study. A hat and a skirt, no matter the age, are inherently meant to be worn. Items in a museum are relegated to conveying memories and telling the story of the human experience. These items screamed out to me that they still have a bigger story yet to tell, with more time to be enjoyed. I do advocate for older antiques to be appreciated just as any other article of clothing would be, as long as that is in a respectful and reserved manner that does not destroy the history these pieces hold. They are not today’s fast fashion, and took many more hours to craft than the average modern ready-to-wear. They should not be destroyed for a last minute Halloween costume or used up carelessly. The skills and raw materials that created the original items in my outfit may be one-of-a-kind.
Silk is a fabric widely found many antique garments and is the main component to this Edwardian skirt. Silk can be finicky with its condition if “dry rotted” or shattering, but silk in good condition, at any age, can still hold the same delicate strength that makes it so appealing. Happily, the silk of my skirt is skill remarkable supple, softly structured, and sturdy…the signs of a ‘healthy’ material. I am not even sure what specific variant of silk is present here. It has a tight slubbed weave that is neither shantung nor twill, with a beautiful but subtle shine. There is no real ‘stretch’ from the bias grain which falls across the back of the skirt, yet it does help create the slightly longer sweep, a subtle trained hem so classic of circa 1906. If anybody has a hunch as to the specific name of this material, please let me know. I am in awe of how beautiful this fabric is, and love how it’s the perfect substantial weight for the applied and cut-away applique embroidery work decorating the skirt.
The fabric and the elegant cut lines of the skirt are sufficiently lovely, but the additional detailing is positively stunning. It reminds me of a circa 1905 Art Nouveau silk skirt with similar tonal embroidery created by the esteemed Paris couture house Callot Sœurs. Furthermore, there is another similar skirt which can be seen in the 2018 film “Colette” in which the costume designer sourced actual antique original items for the actress Keira Knightly to wear for an authentic look. I am convinced that this skirt is at least influenced by Edwardian French fashion, if not sourced directly from France. The jagged raw edges inside the skirt tell me that this may not have come from a Couture house or professional tailor, yet the visible quality outside speaks to a very fine talent. Democracy in fashion was prevalent around the turn of the century, and women with little money who possessed sewing skills and a keen eye could deceptively look just as fine as a lady with inherited riches.
Bow motifs and illusionary draping on high-end silk skirts can be seen rising as a background ‘trend’ beginning at 1890, the late Victorian to early Edwardian crossover period. Whomever made this skirt really wanted a piece on par with the finest styles of the times, and the original wearer certainly must have relished showing it off. The motif down the front reminds me of a fancy window curtain, or falling ribbons. The decoration wraps around to the back hem and gets wider over the train. It is a clean and classy way to add frills and femininity.
The skirt has a few random stains and hemline dirt, only showing it saw some events back in its day. Yet, it survived in remarkable shape, especially considering the way it looked at the time of my purchase. The center back seam was open, waistband hooks were calcified to the waistband, many of the applique panels had popped open, and there was a significant sized hole gaping open at the center front. Something was dropped right at lap level on the skirt and the front hole seems to have been the result of a stain that would not come out…only to end up being snipped out! I like to imagine an Edwardian woman looking so elegant sitting with her coffee at a soirée, devastated that a little tip of the cup spilled out onto her lap to ruin her fashionable attire. Desperate, she cut out the stain not thinking what repairs will be needed to cover her hasty actions. I can only guess the situation.
There was no better solution figured out for the gaping hole than the cleanest patch job I could muster. There was extra material under the front applique work, so I trimmed out a patch just slightly bigger than the hole. My hand stitching was as tiny and efficient as I could make them, and a magnifying glass was needed at this step. The silk is so sturdy that the raw edges do not really fray and the patch blends in quite well.
Luckily, I found a way to extend the size. There were very wide seam allowances down the center back, and the original waistband had extra material. The original skirt size was tiny, about 25” around. By the time I was done with my alterations, the skirt was a 28” waist. The old hooks were removed and the extra waistline canvas was pulled out to its maximum length. Cotton buckram was added into the new closure placket to support the hook-and-eyes. My finial finish was to use some scraps cut from the inside raw edges to cleanly finish the waistband. A pack of 1910’s era oversized hooks were found in my stash and used as the new closures. I pulled out my vintage spools of ivory thread (i.e. dirty white cotton) to do the hand sewing needed for the job.
I continued working on the skirt by hand stitching down the outlines of the applique detailing. This step was really cathartic and made me feel like a greater part of the entire original design process. It was fun to trace out the bows and sashes. I noticed the human inconsistencies of the original hand stitching and felt a connection with the original maker. The accurate and inventive methods employed were amazing. If you want to revitalize your outlook on sewing, refresh your approach to fashion, or at least catch a realistic glimpse of the past, find a way to put your hands on an old original item. Modern fashion will seem to be so lacking in sight of what quality handiwork and high-end supplies really look and feel like.
The centers to the applied faux bows, tassels, and ribbons are layered underneath with a thin but stiff, mesh-like white material which is stitched down in a black chain stitch outline. An explanation of the mesh underlayer to my skirt’s applique work was discovered through following the Instagram account of Lauren, the “Virtuous Courtesan”.
Years back, she shared her find of an early Edwardian factory deadstock crinoline base skirt, something bought on one of yearly trips to the vintage markets of Paris, France. Her item was heavily embroidered and beaded in a manner very much like what can be seen on my own skirt, even to the point of including numerous bows in the embellishment designs. She stated that such items were sold so that a client’s dressmaker could then sew the pre-made ornamentation down to a gown with the crinoline backing to support the application, only to cut excess crinoline away afterwards. Such a shortcut to achieving a complex decoration is ingenious! To have the embellishment labor already done for you by someone extremely talented in that special skill only to have it ready to apply remotely reminds me of today’s iron-on embroidery appliques.
To finish the embellishment ornamentation, thicker cording is couched down in place to further outline the black stitching keeping the crinoline down. The bow’s centers have floating cord rings, barely attached to the skirt in a few strategic places. While I was working on the skirt’s restoration, I reached out to my followers on social media to let them weigh in on what methods could possibly been employed to create the insanely unique detailing.
Some comments said the floating rings at the center of the bows are like a buttonhole stitch. Someone else stated that the applique work looks like crewel embroidery or some sort of corded thread crochet. There were some musings as to whether the rings were tatted. The thread that was used on the skirt decoration was indeed heavy-duty, reminding me of waxed upholstery twist. Whatever the answers, I really don’t need to fully unlock the material mysteries to this skirt. I like the way second-hand clothing from any era has little mysterious aura to it!
One thing I am very specific about is ascertaining the date of the skirt. I firmly believe that it is from 1906. The Edwardian era, called the “Belle Époque” in Europe, is generally circa 1900 to about 1914. During that era, the artificial silhouette which was expected of women by the modes of fashion was being tweaked and changed very quickly, often annually. A 1906 silhouette is easily defined, especially when looking at this concise comparison chart at “Sew Historically.com”. It was the year for skirts to glide elegantly over the hips and flare out at the hem, ending in a soft fall and circular shape with a “medium sweep” length. The S-bend torso was not prevalent in high fashion at this time with altered corsets and underpinnings making women appear straighter than years prior. Skirts of 1906 accommodated the new silhouette with a waistline shaped to match. Unlike the early 1900s skirt I sewed (here) using a “Folkwear” pattern, this post’s 1906 skirt is smoothly shaped by means of excellent seaming and the bias cut.
Stiff horsehair braid is in my skirt’s hem to help this skirt keep its distinctive hem shape (with the help of my ruffled slip) and weigh the skirt down for a fantastic swish when I walk. Historical fashion is dated by stoic photographs, museum artifacts, or artwork of all mediums, but let us not forget that old clothes were made to move with people’s activities of the day and complement the motion of the human form. They are poetry in motion, the lesson a history book can never teach!
The Edwardian hat is next in line to address. It was a fantastic happenstance to know that the two items parallel in provenance so precisely. The hat is a classic piece of women’s fashion during the Edwardian era. This style of millinery accommodated the oversized hairstyles of the time, balanced out the silhouette, and added a level of delicate femininity. These are also known as picture hats, Gainsborough hats, or garden hats for the amount of floral decorations with which they were most often decorated. From studying old photos, it seems that the silk velvet band along the outer edge of the brim as well as the wide, shallow shape of the crown associate this to somewhere between 1905 and 1909. Wearing this hat was the icing on the decadent cake that is the skirt, but this was not without still more time-consuming, mind-bending restoration efforts.
How do you even begin to clean, repair, and re-shape a hat that is so old? I had no idea, so all I could go off of was what made sense. This hat had acquired several holes in it due to the old silk floral wires rusting through. Rust is very corrosive, the rust spots seemed more like burn marks! I patched these holes up with some cotton upholstery thread so the hat would not fall apart during cleaning. Having no way to properly fill in the holes with an equitable material, I stitched a supporting lattice ‘web’ over the holes with the intention to cover up those spots when new flowers were added.
Next, the musty, stale smell and grey grime needed to be addressed. A baking soda paste was made by mixing the powder with water and applied to the hat in sections. Once it had dried, the paste was scoured off with a stiff plastic bristled scrubber. My first go around of this effort was thrilling to realize it was a successful way to clean the hat, but I made the terrible mistake of not wearing the proper safety precautions. I flicked a chunk of baking soda into my eye! It was so painful! I screamed so much, and luckily kept enough sense to not scratch but rushed over to the sink and rinsed out my eye. My eye was quite angry for a while afterwards. I pulled out the clear safety glasses as well as a full face shield and gloves for my next cleaning session. It took many short spells over the course of a few weeks to apply the paste, let that dry, then scrub the hat clean. The pain was worth the gain because the hat was laundered and freshened so nicely.
After all the hands-on time invested in the hat, I never even figured out what it was made of. I suspect it is some sort of specialty straw not produced any more. It is composed of tiny braided ribbons that are layered over one another and stitched down in shape. The material got very gummy, sticky, and malleable when it was softened by the wet baking soda paste. This quality helped me reshape it but turned the cleaning process into a guessing game – will I ruin the hat or save it after all? Perhaps I was merely dealing with a glaze or a sizing on the straw. I recently fell down a rabbit hole of research on identifying antique and vintage straw and paper millinery supplies, but there is too much information on the internet to be confident about sharing my theories for this Edwardian hat. All I know is that it is something I have only seen in museums before!
The original hat had silk flowers made by hand in a style I do not know if I can find or even want to pay the cost of. It was hard to find a reasonably priced option that looked as extravagant and oversized as the original flowers, but I found some decent modern substitutes in the long run. The flower crown is intentionally laid out where the largest flowers descend in size to the smaller ones only to get big again. This placement was inspired by a French designer hat by Madame Alphonsine hat, circa 1910, housed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The largest flowers were strategically placed so that they cover most of the holes and stains. I may come back to this hat and add a silk sash underneath the flowers for even more Belle Epoch goodness.
The hat really drowns my head without the proper Edwardian hairstyle underneath and is heavier that it looks. Hat pin is just as much of a real necessity here as the Gibson Girl hair! The hat pin attaches the hat to the top bun of my hairstyle and anchors the look together as long as my hair is securely pinned down. The oversized crown does not smash the rest of my hair but rather perches atop my top bun. It was quite odd to be thrown off by the extra clearance around my head that such a large hat required. There was so much I learned and found unexpected about this whole outfit, and the hat may have been my favorite part.
My setting was the historic Magic Chef Mansion, the palatial home of the wealthy Charles Stockstrom, owner of an innovative kitchen appliance company. Designed in 1907 by the architect Ernst Janssen, the Magic Chef Mansion is one of my hometown’s “premiere old-world estates”. The owner was kind enough to take time with me the day of my tour and allow these photos on her property. There was no outfit snafu (such as a popped seam or tear from disintegration) during my house tour outing.
Sharing a whole post focusing on my vintage or antique originals is a nice change of pace for me and something that I love writing about. I hope this information helps someone revive an old hat or an antique item that may only pass as fit for the dumper at first glance. You too can bring a bit of history back to life again. It’s not rocket science and doesn’t have to be daunting but it does take time and a commitment to lovingly caring for a vestige of the past. Succeeding generations deserve to know that some of us of today were invested into preserving our lived history in a tactile way. It is an honor to share these items with all of you and was very enjoyable to put my skills to good use to give these another chance to shine.
seamracer.wordpress.com 