A Regency Spencer, HSM March: Protection

HSM 3 Protection

I finished a spencer to go with my Regency day dress this spring.  The blue cotton pique was picked up at the scrap swap at Figments & Filaments last year.  I used the pattern from the dress for the bodice back and sleeves, and just extrapolated the rest.  The dress has a drop front bib, so I was able to work with the under bits which overlap underneath the bib.

Decorated with a total of twelve completely non-functional buttons, as well as a few
bits of folded fabric tubes sewn down over the back seams to add a bit of interest.

Ruffled collar holds its shape with two rows of piping along the edge.
Or perhaps a couched cord would be a better way to describe it, as it's not encased within a seam.

Detail of the non-functional false cuffs (and fabric texture).

I turned the sleeve inside out so I could show off how that nonsense was put together.  The seams at the armsyce and bottom of the sleeve puff are bound with cotton tape.  The puff is supported with a crescent of silk organza and the band is held up with two tapes, further assisting the poofing.

Sleeve head, inside out.

I can't decide if it's too much ruffle to wear the chemisette AND the spencer.
I suppose I could always sub out for a fichu if I want to tone it down a bit.

The flash really brings out the shiny in the dress fabric.  I haven't the foggiest what the secondary
content of the dress is, and have absolutely no fabric left to play with.  I guess the world will never know.

And for the Historical Sew Monthly Challenge:

What the item is: Regency Spencer
The Challenge: Protection
Fabric/Materials: blue cotton pique, linen, silk organza.
Pattern: heavily modified from the Laughing Moon Mercantile bib front dress pattern.
Year: 1810-ish
Notions: fabric covered buttons, hooks with hand stitched loop closures, cotton twill tape.
How historically accurate is it? 8/10
Hours to complete: maybe 20
First worn: in a 'done enough' state for a costumers' guild outing to see Pride + Prejudice + Zombies, but in the finished state, right there in the dining room.
Total cost: The fabric came from the scrap swap at a local costuming convention and the lining is from my own leftovers, so the only really cost was the button forms. All told, maybe $6.

1930s Lounge Pajamas

I was able to whip up a quick indulgence project for myself in between the hustle and bustle of February.  This was one of those projects that killed two birds with one stone.  It stated like this.  I'm going through the fabric in my grandmother's stash when we sorted out her house after her passing.  In among the truly lurid 1970s polyester atrocities happened to be some flour sack rags that I took home to use as pressing cloths.  They started me down the path of researching the feed sack dresses and clothing from the 1930s.  I got all gun ho about making one for myself, and even found a lot of 11 feed sacks in matching print on eBay.  But I ran into a conundrum when it came to finally buckling down and making a feed sack dress of my own.  The whole point of making clothing from feed sacks was that the sewer was being economical.  That made full length dresses a luxury that ran counter to the use of feed sacks.  And I HATE the way I look in knee length dresses.  So the fabric sat around being useless.

I had been holding onto the 1930s Kitchenette Pajamas pattern from Decades of Style for a couple of years now.  I'd originally bought the pattern for a Single Pattern contest at Costume Con, but then never got around to making them.  So it languished in the pile.  

Fast forward a couple of years and I'm reading an article in Behind the Seams that looked at the details in a couple of feed sack dresses.  The lighter one in the background was hypothesized to be a night gown, and the waistline was fitted using a series of narrow tucks.  I had one of those light bulb moments where nightgown = pajamas and tucks fit in with the Historical Sew Monthly's February challenge of pleats and tucks.  Viola!  A solutions was found!

From an article in Behind the Seams.

I had thought about staging a lovely photo shoot with me doing some 1930s-worthy kitchen chores,
but I honestly just drank coffee and ordered pizza for dinner that night, so this is what you get. 

It's a one piece garment that closes with overlapping center back panels and attached waist ties.  If I were a bit smarter about this, I'd have read a few more pattern reviews before I started cutting.  I could have saved myself the exact same problem had by so many others in that the back with tend to creep open with wear.  If I were to do this up again (and I might, they are wicked comfortable), I would move the attachment point of the ties up an inch or two.  As is, a well-placed safety pin does the trick.  Or I could invest the time in putting in a couple of lingerie straps into the shoulder seams.  We'll see how annoying it gets.

The front part of the bodice is cut in one piece.  The shaping comes from a tuck going into each shoulder seam, in addition to the waist ties.  In order to lessen the shoulder drooping problem, I added a pair of box pleats into the center front neckline.  This pulled the shoulders in a bit, in addition to adding a bit of shaping around the bust.

No flash to show my snazzy pleats and tucks.

The tiny cap sleeves were an addition to the pattern as well.  I had come across this image on Pinterest, linked only to the image and not the source, so I'm without context.  I was digging on the way that the end of the sleeves on the brown dress were set up with the bias tape and the overlapping top.  Since I was planning to finish the neckline and cuffs with a contrasting bias tape anyhow, this seemed like an awesome way to continue that theme.

The incredibly technical pattern for the sleeves, which amounted to me going,
"Eh, let's make 'em about that long and overlap by about yey much."

Now, 11 feed sacks go a heck of a long way.  Each piece opened out to about 36" x 48".  However, many of the pieces showed damage from long years in storage.  A few had a discolored background, others had stains in spots and there were holes and tears scattered throughout.  Also, feed sack cotton equals THIN.  See through when back lit, even.  So what I did to make the most of every piece was to fully flat line all pieces in the sketchier pieces of fabric.  I had to piece one of the pant legs, and overlook a few of the pinprick holes, but overall this worked well.  The print is the same inside and out, the double layer of cloth is thick enough to ensure adequate warmth and modesty.  Plus, you could never find another fabric as soft as feed sack.  The finest combed cotton ain't got nothing on this.

Details for the challenge:

1930s Lounge PJs
Challenge #2: Tucks and Pleating

Fabric: self lined with vintage cotton feed sacks and burgundy cotton for the bias tape

Pattern: 1930s Kitchenette Pajamas from Decades of Style.

8/10 for Accuracy. The feed sacks are vintage, but probaby date a little after the lounge sets were all the rage in the late 20s and early 30s.

Hours to complete: maybe ten. Cutting was an adventure as there were 11 individual feed sacks in the auction lot of varying quality. It took a bit of finagaling to work around the stains and holes and there is some piecing on the inner layers. The lining with self fabric gave me a bit more modesty, plus it meant I was able to use up almost every scrap of fabric, regardless of how stained or discolored it may be. Also, SOOOOOOO incredibly soft.

First worn: not gonna lie. After I put them on for pictures, I wore them around the house for the rest of the day. they were incredibly comfortable.

Total cost: $60 US ($58 of which was the feed sacks)

Sideless Surcoat - Historical Sew Monthly Stashbusting Challenge

Building on the generic Medieval fantasy costume that I started working on last month, I made up a relatively straight-forward sideless surcoat.  Went the easy route and again brought out the Burda 7977 for this instead of using one of any number of fabulous tutorials that are out there.  The goal here was to bang something out quickly so that I could show off the kirtle at Figments & Filaments here in Kansas City next month.

I was already planning to avoid buying anything new for this project, so it fit in nicely with the Historical Sew Fortnightly Monthly challenge for March which was "Stashbusting".  I found a five yard section of wool suiting that had a subtle brown and tan twill weave to it that I picked up at a steep discount eons ago with the notion that surely I could use it for something.  Thems dangerous words right there.  Well, to make it a little less 'shiny suit' and a little more Fourteenth Century, I serged the raw edges and dumped the lot of it into the washing machine on warm, and dried it on medium heat.  This resulted in an every so slight bit of felting which softened the overall hand and color nicely.  The contrasting was done in black silk velvet that was leftover from my Queen of Hearts project, and plus the thread, that's all there is to it.

Lol.  My neighbors must think we're so weird.

Not sure why it's riding up like that in the back.
Must have caught on the belt I'm wearing over the kirtle.

Another shot at that paternoster and the decorative edging on the sleeves of my kirtle.

You can almost tell in the close up shot above, but for the velvet, I just laid out the pattern pieces and cut strips about four inches in from the arm hole openings.  The velvet was sewn to the WRONG side of the arm openings, then folded to the outside, encasing the seams.  I then top-stitched about 1/4" from the edge, then again about 3" in from the edge and trimmed off the excess.  The top stitching largely gets lost in the pile of the velvet, so I didn't think it detracted from the historical look too much.  To finish those raw cut edges, I just used black silk thread to whip stitch and short intervals all the way around.  The collar and hemline were treated in much the same way

HSF 16 Terminology & HSF 17 Yellow - 1880s Tea Gown

Sooo... I had all of these grand epic plans to make a tea gown for the HSF Terminology post, but I ran into a bit of a demotivating wall when it came time to put the sleeves on and I couldn't commit to a trimming scheme.  Lucky for me, the fabric I ended up making the gown out of was a lovely, buttery yellow gold and the next HSF challenge in line was yellow, so not all was lost.

I've been in a decluttering mood here at the end of the summer, so I thought I'd try to focus on a couple of projects that would help me make a dent in the stash.  Do you remember that dye fail project from back in February?  The one where I realized that the yellow/gold rayon faille that I bought turned out to be a rayon/acetate blend and attempting to dye it red just left me with ten yards of fleshy pink nonsense? 

Yeah, that one.

So I had the bright idea that I'd make a tea gown out of it, because hey, what the hell.  I've made up enough Truly Victorian bodice patterns that I felt comfortable just making the necessary adjustments to the pattern on paper and skip the mock up.  Easy, one piece project, cheap fabric, no mock up... I was totally going to get this done in the two weeks that I had until the challenge was due.

I was wrong.  I took a break from cutting pattern pieces to dye up something like 12 yards of nylon velvet ribbon for trim.  The goal was to get a nice, deep burgundy color to complement the fleshy pink.  But the ribbon had been dyed and bleached once before in a failed attempt at making ivory by my sewing buddy over the summer and it didn't quite take up the dye the way I wanted it to.  In fact, the ribbon wasn't burgundy at all, but a nice, grapey purple.  Seriously, we're talking grape jelly here.  Well that was definitely going to clash with the pink.  So I tried to darken it into a more brown color, but that didn't work, either.  Eventually, I ended up with a rich, deep eggplant color that I totally loved... that also totally clashed with the pink.  So I scooped all of the pink fabric up and dumped it onto the floor, pulling out the five yards of undyed yellow gold that were left.  This was a bit shy of what the pattern stated that I'd need, but as the faille didn't really have a nap or directional pattern pattern to it, I figured I could get away with it, and so I started cutting all over again.

We'll start with a split pic, because the flash was doing absolutely nothing polite to the color of the faille.  The cutaway on the left was done without flash and, although a bit blurry, is much a truer representation of the actual color of the gown.

Some people are the sort of person that they can plot out a project to the end, complete with what trim they want where, so that the ends of trim can be inserted into the appropriate sleeves as they go along.  I am not that visionary.  I personally have a lot of trouble imagining how I want to trim a garment until I can look at it mostly assembled.  But sewing the ribbon onto a garment that I couldn't lay flat would have been nearly impossible.  So I sketched and I pinned and I stared and I waffled and re-pinned and then set the whole project aside for a bit instead of finishing it off over Labor Day weekend as I'd planned.  My biggest stressor was the pointed bits on the front and back of the bodice.  I couldn't figure out how I wanted the points to meet.  As is, the center of the points is ever so slightly off center from the front of the gown, which is along the line of buttons.  It took looking at a lot of asymmetrical gowns in order to convince myself to be okay with (and perhaps a glass of wine or two in order to find the courage to start sewing), but once I got over that hump, the rest of the trimmings just fell together.

The finished gown is floor length in the front, with a sweeping train in the back.  I'll probably stick a bustle pad under the petticoat to help fill it out a bit in the back.  And a faille petticoat over the cotton one will help hold the train out and keep it from collapsing in the back.  (also, an actual butt instead of my broken, hip-less dress form will help, too,)

Hmm, I'm good with the front, but that's an awful lot of
blank space there in the back.  But bow, perhaps?

After the points on the front of the bodice, I kind of wanted to embrace this asymmetrical theme that I had started.  I made cuffs that were not a uniform depth, so that they wrapped around the cuff and looked as if they buttoned closed, encasing the narrower end.  The same style was used on the tops of the pockets.

Pleats seem to be one of those things that I just can't not do.  They consume so much time, but damn if they don't just define the late Victorian look for me.  I sped up the process a bit with these in a couple of ways.  They are only finished on the lower edge, and I used hem binding tape to avoid the bulk of double turning the edge.  Then I inserted one three inch space after every three one inch pleats.  You can't really tell, because I hung the pointed ribbon tabs in the center of each of these wider spaces and unless you're looking for it, you probably wouldn't notice.  The tabs were cut into points and then treated with fray check.  Lastly, I avoided finishing the top edge of the pleats by sewing them directly to the hem and sewing the strip of ribbon over it.  Since the velvet ribbon is dark and bulky, you can't see the added bulk that it hides.

Gasp!  Sneaky cheating.  Also, I was running low on matching thread at this point
and went with a "close enough".  Luckily, I only had to do this on the hem

I was able to use up a spectacular amount of the hem and bias tapes that I inherited from my grandmother.  Since no one would see them on the inside, I felt no shame in using up whatever odd colors I could come up with.

I had just enough fabric left over to cut a partial front panel for an underskirt that I'll doctor up with the leftover bits of ribbon so that I'll have another option if I want to wear the tea gown open over a matching skirt.  I'll utilize some of the pink fabric to finish the top four inches of the front panel, as well as the side and back panels of the skirt.  As it'll be hemmed to a couple inches shorter than the tea gown, I'm not too worried about the pink sticking out.  As it stands, the cotton petticoat I made back in May doesn't give quite enough boost to my bustle-less bum, so making an underskirt with a good bit of yardage gathered into the back of the waistband will certainly help, regardless of whether or not I unbutton enough of the tea gown for anyone to see  it.

Hmm... now what to do with the remaining scraps of ribbon?  Surely the dress needs a bow somewhere.  ;)

HSF 15: The Great Outdoors - the Mink Fur Muff

I certainly feel like this is one of the weirder things I've ever made.  About a year ago, my mother let me dig through her significant stash built up from decades of sewing and crafting.  One of the things that she passed on to me was mink stole that had certainly seen better days.  Mom made bears for a time, and one of her friends had passed the stole on to her and so it's just been sitting in people's stashes for ages now.  Fast forward to last December when I had a Steampunk holiday tea to dress for and as it was flipping cold out and I didn't have gloves to match the Victorian ensemble I'd planned to wear, I decided to make a muff.  This was one of those projects that sounded much simpler in my head: cut rectangles of lining, fluff and fur, sew together and Viola!   You're done.

Yeah, not so much.  First thing to do was to METICULOUSLY and very gently remove the fur from it's fabric lining.  The stole was two long strips of fur sewn side-by-side and I needed something shorter and wider than that, so the fur "strips" then had to be separated and cut in half to make the new shape.  

Next up was to sew the fur onto a backing material.  I chose to use the same silk as I was using for the lining so that when I sewed the fur layer to the lining, I could do it by the backing instead of putting more stitch holes in the fur.  This way, any backing that peaked through would be unnoticeable.  I went into this thinking that this step would have been simple... WRONG!  Despite seeming quite rectangular when in the stole, the resulting pieces were anything but.  I ended up having to pull the pieces in towards the cut ends, which ended up giving me a rectangle that was narrower at one end than the other.

Strips of fur had to be sewn together before being sewn to the backing material.
You can kind of see on the left there where even these strips were originally pieced.

Fur whip stitched to the backing fabric in a rust colored thread that would disappear in the fur.

Next I had to work on the insides.  I had seen where others had been quilting the interior of their muffs and I figured that seemed like a good idea.  More than anything, I like how the quilting it kept the lining material from shifting and bunching, which would have been unsightly.

Quilting on the sewing machine, because SURELY that would be easier than doing it by hand, right?

Aaaaand, this is about the place where the project got bagged up and put on hold until today.  I pulled it out and started trying to assemble the layers, not realizing until half-way through that my rectangle of fur was not a true rectangle.  I worked around this by assembling the lining and fur into tubes separately, then stuffing the lining inside the fur tube and hoping for the best.  The added bulk of the buckling lining means that the muff retains a bit of its rounded shape, even without a pair of hands in it.  The fur backing and lining were whip stitched together and a fabric wrist strap was inserted into one end.  The fur was old and quite delicate, and many of the mink tails broke along the way.  The stubby bits were left on one edge and the only remaining full tail was inserted into a pretty yellow bow and pined to the front of the muff.

Now it just needs to be not August and cold enough so that I can find and excuse to wear it!

What the item is: fur muff

The Challenge: The Great Outdoors

Fabric: mink recovered from a vintage stole, silk crepe, cotton batting

Pattern: none

Year: this could work for anything from the late 1700s up into the early 20th century.

Notions: poly ribbon and thread, scrap ribbon for cinching in the ends and a touch of tacky glue.

How historically accurate is it? meh, not too shabby, I suppose. Though I didn't really base it on any existing pieces or images.

Hours to complete: 10, perhaps. The fur had to be painstakingly removed from it's original backing and then pieced back together into a more rectangular shape. Lesson learned, I will NOT be working with real fur again any time soon.

First worn: it WAS intended for a holiday tea back in December, but set aside in the rush. It'll have to wait for it to not be August and sweltering before it gets to see the light of day.

Total cost: fur was gifted to me from my mom's stash and the silk was leftover from making a dress for a friend. So out of pocket? $3 worth of batting. But the valuation would have been closer to $60, given the shabby state of the fur.

HSF 14: Paisley & Plaid - 1920s Flat Cap

Since I knew that I'd be well and truly occupied with Costume College this weekend, I got a quick and easy item out of the way for the next HSF challenge a few weeks in advance.  Behold, the early 20th century man's flat cap (part the second).

The hat matches the plaid lined Norfolk jacket that I finished for my honey back in January.  The hat I'd originally made was a touch too small and I had inserted the lining inside out (but I'd run out of time to remake it until now).

The original attempt at a flat cap for the 1920s Joker was made out of the plaid gauze flat lined to linen, then lined with polyester lining fabric.  For this one, I went with a more coordinated match to the suit.  

What the item is: man's flat cap
The Challenge: Paisley & Plaid
Fabric: wool/poly suiting, plaid cotton gauze lining, a few scraps of interfacing for the brim.
Pattern: loosely based on whatever tutorials I could find on a cursory google search.
Year: 1920s
Notions: just the thread to hold it all together
How historically accurate is it? I'd give it a 6/10.  The look is there, but it was not based on any particular extant piece.
Hours to complete: 3
First worn: at the KCCG's Friday Night Jazz Dinner
Total cost: I'm calling it zero, since it's assembled with scraps left over from the Joker's Norfolk jacket project. Even then, it's only a few dollars worth or materials.

HSF #13 Under $10 - Man's 18th century Stock

At first I was despairing when I thought that NOTHING of the gentleman's court suit I was working on would count towards any of the current challenges. (not paisley or plaid and CERTAINLY not cheap). But then I realized that one of the accessories that I was considering certainly would and all was saved. 

My honey's court suit needed neckwear, so a stock it would be.  I mostly followed the garment detailed in Costume Close-Up (only with WAY less pleats).  I happen to be one of those people who abhore ironing, so I chose to sew down all of the pleats.  I went with the terribly mathematically accurate method of using the in- and outside of the presser foot to measure my pleats.  There is a strip of linen scrap left over from the shirt that forms the interlining of the stock and the base to which the pleats are sewn down to.

Measuring up from the bottom one half the width of the presser foot anchors the inside of the pleat.

Flipping the outer layer back down away from the interlining and sewing one quarter the width of the presser foot makes for a (relatively) sharp crease when the layer is folded back up.

I ended up straying from the instructions in the book when it came to the back closure.  Not wanting to put out the money for an authentic reproduction stock buckle, I took myself off to my local crafting supply store and found a set of metal buckles intended for scrapbooking. 

$3.49 for a set of 8?  Don't mind if I do.

I also had to deviate when it came to the tabs for buckling.  I had a lot of trouble getting a linen tab to taper off sharply enough to be able to fit through the buckle.  After my first couple of failed attempts, I got frustrated and just cut the damn thing off, fitting a piece of silk ribbon into it's place.  The ribbon was easier to thread through the buckle and could be cinched blindly while worn for easy adjustment.  Not the prettiest bit of sewing I've ever done, but it'll do.

The largest was a touch small for the stock, but it was light weight.  As my honey was already concerned about stuff wrapped snugly around the neck, I decided not to use something small.  Although, in retrospect, this size might have gone better on the knee band of the breeches and the fancy buckle I used there would go better on the stock.  Ah well.

Only downside to sewing down the pleats is that it makes the finished product a bit stiff.  Or else I've made it too wide for my Honey's neck.  Probably a bit of both.  Either way, I'm going to run the whole thing through the wash a couple of times, to see if I can't get it to give up a bit of the fight.

With the coat collar covering some, and a wig covering most of what's left, the back closure really isn't going to be seen all that much.  I'll probably just have him tuck the ribbon tail into the neck of the waist coat and call it good.

For the HSF: 
What the item is: Man's Stock (formal neckware)
The Challenge: Under $10
Fabric: handkerchief weight linen outer, mid-weight linen interlining.
Pattern: Costume Close--Up #24
Year: later half of the 1700s
Notions: poly thread (internal stitchings), linen thread (top stitching), a scrap of silk ribbon to replace a too-thick tab and a buckle from a set intended for scrapbooking.
How historically accurate is it? the part you'll be able to see is pretty spot on. I used the machine to sew down all of the pleats so that I wouldn't have to re-iron every single one of them whenever it was washed. But I didn't want to put out for a proper recreating stock buckle and so used what I could find. Plus I didn't size down the tab sufficiently for easy buckling, so I had to replace the tab with ribbon. I'll give it a six out of ten.
Hours to complete: about three
First worn: another piece ready to pack for Costume College.
Total cost: uses mere scraps of a $15/yd piece of linen. Even counting the full cost of all of the buckles in the set that i didn't use, we're still at under $5.

HSF 12: Shape and Support - Bodice to the 18th Century Court Gown

I'm playing a bit of catch up as far as the blogging goes.  I leave for Costume College in two weeks and my summer thus far has been absolutely packed with sewing and other costumer prep for it.  I've thus far been able to find a current project that applies to each of the recent Historical Sew Fortnightly challenges, so at least I'm caught up there.  Challenge 12 was Shape and Support and, while I hadn't finished the court gown for the Bodice challenge, I was able to buckle down and get it done for this one.  I was originally intending to wear this over stays, despite most references to court gowns stating that this wasn't the case.  To be honest, I just wasn't sure that I could get the support that my plus size figure needed without them.  However, once I started putting the layers of the bodice together, the whole thing started feeling way too bulky. (My stays are fully boned, and with cane.  So they are a tad thick.)  I already had already made an interlining layer which had a handful of bones set into it, so I went back and added about ten more and then left the front three inches of the lining and fashion layer separate so that I could tightly lace the inside closed, then pin the outer layer into place.  Adding in four inch wide facings to the linen lining and silk outer was necessary to hide the raw edges, as well as the unsightly (and somewhat doodled on) cotton canvas interlining as well as the last of the pepto pink cotton sheeting that I'd been using to flat line the silk.  Come to think of it, that's four layers of fabric.  No wonder it felt so bulky over stays.

I chose to attach the overskirt to the bodice along the back half of the waist line instead of finishing the waist band of the skirt and wearing it over tabs.  I liked the added security of knowing that the top and bottom wouldn't separate while sitting or dancing.  The front half of the waistline of the overskirt was faced and finished and still needs a hook to anchor it at the side.  The open front will then pin closed under the front edges of the bodice.  This also gives the added bonus that I can adjust where the fur trim on the open front comes out from under the bodice so that I can keep the look of a solid strip of trim down the entire body.  The bodice still needs a bit of fur trimmings to make it look like the inspiration painting, and then I'm going to attach my engageants to the dress sleeves instead of the chemise, but it is otherwise done. I'm pretty stoked about it, as the bodice was the part of the project that I was dreading the most.  (Not knowing how to do something usually results in a frankly astounding amount of procrastination on my part.)

One of my goals for this project was that any stitching which could be seen on the finished garment had to be done by hand.  This made the bodice a cumbersome project, but I really am pleased with how it turned out.  I managed the edges by turning under the linen lining and whip stitching it to the interlining.  The edges of the red silk were then turned under and stitched into place.  With hand sewing, I find that I have a lot more control over how the edges of my fabric meet.  It's much easier to make minor adjustments between stitches, as opposed to just pinning everything in place and hoping for the best under the speed and indiscrimination of the machine.  Also, hand stitching makes all those pretty little stitch marks that I love so much.  

Info for the HSF:
What the item is: bodice to an 18th century court gown
The Challenge: Shape and Support
Fabric: red silk jacquard flat-lined to cotton sheeting (the pink stuff left over from the pet  panniers!), lined with coffee-stained linen and sandwiched in the middle is a boned layer of cotton canvas interlining.
Pattern: I used JP Ryan's Robe Anglaise as a starting point, adjusting the lower edge to end at the waist in the back.
Year: 1770s
Notions: reed boning, boning channels, silk buttonhole thread for the lacing eyelets and cotton thread for the top stitching.
How historically accurate is it? I had to do a lot of guessing when it came to construction techniques of a court gown, but the overall 18th century-ness of it is pretty good. All hand sewn, excepting the construction seams and boning channels, which are now sealed up insde the layers.
Hours to complete: hmm... maybe 20 or so.
First worn: for the Gala at Costume College in T minus 16 days...
Total cost: probably around $50 for this part.