House Cleaning

I think that I'm a typical costumer, in that, over time, I've accumulated a lot of costuming "stuff." I managed to clear out a few things at the GBACG Costumers Bazaar last weekend, but still have many extra bits that need to go. So, I've set up shop at Bonanza, and listed many costuming accessories, including some of the things you see below. A link to my Bonanza shop also appears in the pane on your right.

Here's a preview of some of the things I've listed. Funnily enough, they're pretty much all left from workshops I've taken or taught.

Edwardian-style parasol.

18th century embroidered neckerchief.

18th century fancy pocket.

18th century fancy pocket.

18th century linen pocket.

18th century linen pocket.

18th century linen pocket.

What is Bonanza:
Bonanza advertises itself as an alternative to eBay. I find that it's a bit more of a cross between eBay and Etsy. It's a marketplace for folks like you and me to buy and sell stuff. Like Etsy, sellers set up a shop.

Why am I using Bonanza:
Frankly, Bonanza has a much simpler and affordable fee structure than eBay or Bonanza. I'm not a very active seller, and it can take me a long time to sell things. So I chose to use Bonanza because listing and maintaining listings for a long time is easy and affordable.

Early 20th Century Fat Bottom Purses

OK, I confess, I'm a lazy blogger.

I haven't posted in a while, not because I've been too busy to craft, but because I just haven't felt like it. I know, terrible. In fact, I've been ding quite a lot of crafting, mostly knitting and on and off mad sewing.

Here's something I finished since my last post: a pair of silk clasp purses that I've assigned to the early 20th century.

Silk purses with brass clasps and chains.

I got it into my head to make a clasp purse over -- *ahem* -- two and a half years ago. I need more period hand bags, and I hadn't made a purse on a frame before.

They're shaped with a fat bottom to accommodate plenty of stuff.

I was enamoured with a fat bottom shape, and made these large enough for my on-the-large-side phone.

It fits a sub-phablet phone in a bulky case.

Of course the clasp had to be big enough, too.

Yes, my phone is a Tardis. It's bigger on the inside.

So, I bought the materials and embroidered the sides, and (like many of my projects) put them aside.

Fast forward to last fall, and I'm trying to clear off my work table. I finally sat down and threw these together. Though after so long, and despite having the pattern I drew handy, I forgot that I had given them a 3/8" seam allowance. So, well, their shape is not exactly what I had intended.

Exterior is duchess silk. Interior is taffeta. Brass frame and chain, rayon embroidery, glass beads.

The outsides are duchess silk and the insides are taffeta. The clasp and chain are brass and the embroidery is rayon.

The one without the fringe is going to Lynn McMasters, who made the beaded fringe.

One unfinished project done, umpteen more to go!

Brief Costume College Recap

Yes, I know, Costume College was TWO weeks ago. What can I say, I'm not a very diligent blogger.

I was thrilled to be back at Costume College this year. I missed last year, due to other commitments. I didn't have much to contribute to the neverending parade of GORGEOUS costumes though. As you can see from the quietness of this blog, I haven't been sewing much. So, the weekend included a minimum of costumes for me, but also plenty of socializing and oggling.

For the Friday Ice Cream Social I wore a vintage dress I recently acquired.

Vintage dress from the 1950s. Photo courtesy of Amy O.

I got this dress from Etsy seller youthstep, and I just love the use of lace. Inside there's a label that says "Rappi," anyone know anything about this designer? I do not have a figure for vintage dresses, and this one proves it (the bust is quite a bit too big).

For the Gala I wore my 1950s-style ballgown.

Been there, done that.

I also put my red french gown in the exhibit room. CGW lent me a very jaunty mannikin, which was no fun to dress.

Attitude, 18th century style.

As for classes, I popped in and out of quite a few, and soaked up as much as I could. I took the limited glove making class, and made a glove.

My first (ever) glove.

I stopped at one. The fit wasn't quite right (some of the fingers are too short) and my construction technique could really use some work. I'll fiddle with the pattern and try again in the future, but in the meantime I found a pair of leather gloves in the Marketplace.

Very dirty leather (possibly kidskin) gloves.

They fit nearly perfectly, which is a surprise, since commercial gloves never fit me so well. They are filthy (hence, they were cheap), and they need a good conditioning. So cleaning and restoring these gloves is a future project.

And lastly: I spent a loads of time catching up with so many fantastic costumers and meeting new folks. I deeply, truly, LOVE the costuming community, and every day am thankful that I get to play with ya'll. :)

Handmade Buttons Workshop

Yesterday I attended the Greater Bay Area Costumers Guild "Making Lace Buttons" workshop, with Nancy Nehring, who you can find at her website, Lace Buttons. Nancy is the author of 50 Heirloom Buttons to Make, a book that makes you just drooool over the pretties. Sadly, the book is out of print, and while there is a Kindle edition available, the Kindle e-book is only in black and white and messes up the pagination (the pictures are not necessarily where they're supposed to be). But the e-book is better than nothing.

In person Nancy is energetic, very knowledgeable about buttons, and an experienced teacher. She has the sort of technical, visual and mechanical mind that would have made her a great engineer, if she hadn't discovered a better calling.

I also want to put in a plug for workshops in general. I'm pretty good at figuring things out, but getting a chance to sit down with someone who has already spent hours figuring this stuff out is invaluable. I got tips that took me from just fiddling to making buttons in no time. I also just love the overflow of creative energy at a workshop: give fifteen people the same instructions, and you get fifteen different results. I just love that.

Anyway, here are the buttons I made:

My sample buttons.

Make no mistake: making these fancy buttons is fiddly and time consuming. But if you're really fond of tedious handwork (like me) and have at least some manual dexterity, really, go for it. Go look at the photos in Nancy's book. The results are just ridiculously lovely.

Two "wrapped braid buttons", called "Soutache Checkerboards"
in the book.

Two more "wrapped braid buttons", the "Evening Star"
 on the left, and the "Morning Star" on the right. These are
made from hemp cord. Other folks in the class used a finer,
smoother cord, which made for a more refined button,
 in my opinion.

The "Singleton" button (named after the Singleton family,
who at one point had a monopoly on this style of button).
It's fabric wrapped around a ring. I added a little bit of
chainstitch embroidery to it, for visual interest.

Two "Victorian Needle Lace" buttons, "Victorian Flag"
 on the left, and "Victorian Star" on the right. These are
silk beading cord over silk charmeuse.

Here are the backs of the buttons. The four on the right have
wrapped shanks, mostly because it helps keep the cord in place.
I didn't bother to put shanks on the three on the right, and
according the Nancy, period buttons rarely had shanks.

I stuck the buttons onto what I call my sample board, which contains a combination of, well, samples, and finished things that are waiting to be attached to a finished article (and..uhm...well, they've been waiting a very long time).

My sample board.
Kinda tells you what I was working on
at one point.

A sample board is a great way to lay out samples and experiments, and have them handy when you're looking for an idea to fill a design. I have another corkboard for more dynamic works-in-progress, a place for me to get stuff out of my head and see how it looks in real life (which is currently blank, and thus a reflection of where my time is -- or rather, is not -- being spent right now). Being able to visualize is a great design tool.

Manhattan 1950s Ballgown

Hey look! I've been sewing! Yeah, go ahead and say it: "what, you still do that?!"

Yup, I had a good excuse. I got invited to a swanky, black tie wedding in New York City, and decided I should go 1950s, full, bell skirt and all. Or at least 1950s-inspired, since I don't really know that much about the 1950s. I really didn't feel like going shopping for something new, and equally didn't feel like just pulling something out of the closet. And what the heck, I sew, so off I went. Now, I've known about this wedding since March, and, of course, only really started planning about a month and a half beforehand. And stitching? Started about three weeks beforehand. But I got on the plane to NYC with a wearable gown, only plus some basting stitches that you can't see anyway (and less a whole lotta sleep).

Below is the story of this gown, from the initial design to the wearing, including some serious dressmaking drama that I know all of you that do this sort of thing are intimately familiar with. This is a very long post, so grab a cup of coffee and get comfy, or just skip ahead to the photos.

The Design

After some surfing I decided that I wanted a gown that looks like a certain Lyn Ashworth wedding gown, dissected here by me (you can find a photo of it on one of my Pinterest boards here):

Analysis of a wedding gown by Lyn Ashworth. The gown consisted of a satin bodice with a dropped waistline, gathered chiffon skirt over at least one additional layer of skirt, and a sheer overbodice down to the mid-torso and with forearm-length sleeves. Not illustrated are fabric flowers at the waistline and on the shoulder.

I decided to go with navy, appropriate for an evening wedding in a hotel and in stark contrast to bridal white. Fabrics were easy: duchess satin for the bodice, chiffon for the outer skirt layer, taffeta for the under skirt layer, and organza for the overbodice thingy. Trick was finding all those different fabrics in the same shade of blue. I lucked out at Thai Silks, which had the navy blue I was looking for in chiffon and charmeuse (which isn't satin but has the same shine and when flat-lined with organza would have similar body). I went with their navy taffeta also, though it has a noticeable yellow cast that isn't present in the other fabrics -- under the chiffon it wouldn't really matter. The organza I knew I could get from Pure Silks.

But I wasn't done yet with the design. I've had in it my head for a while to do something in the vein of this Alexander McQueen gown, worn by Jessica Chastain at the 2012 Oscars:

Jessica Chastain in Alexander McQueen
at the 2012 Oscars.
Photo by Glamour Magazine.

McQueen did a whole line in this style, which you can see most of in one of my Pinterest boards (just scroll, you can't miss them). But that's a lot of embroidery, even by machine, and I had limited time. Not to mention that I was just going to a wedding, not the Oscars. And you can see there's an obvious clash between this look and the design of the gown.

But I wanted embroidery, so I figured I'd do the embroidery first and then decide what exactly I'd do with the overbodice thingy. For the embroidery I went with patterns by My Fair Lady, who sells through the website Secrets of Embroidery. As I've mentioned in earlier posts, I rarely digitize embroidery from scratch. That just takes too much time, and it's a lot faster to just work with designs digitized by someone else. Granted, it's tough to find period-appropriate designs that can pass for hand embroidery (depending on the embroidery technique, it's sometimes just impossible). But for this gown it didn't really matter.

The Undergarments

Strapless gown means some kind of strapless support. Frankly, all the strapless and/or backless bras I've worn in the past kind of suck. I debated corsetting (not quite the right silhouette) and building a foundation into the gown (didn't really have the time for that). I decided to just see what I could find online, and happened upon What Katie Did, a shop that reproduces vintage undergarments. Their "Glamour Merry Widow" was just what I was looking for:

Postcard courtesy of What Katie Did, showing the merry widow similar to the one I bought from them (mine isn't as long). My figure isn't as "vivacious" as the model's, but the merry widow sure does show off what I have!

The full skirt I was shooting for also required some kind of support. I figured, heck, I should be able to buy a crinoline petticoat; after all, there are plenty of folks who dress in vintage, and plenty of modern bridal gowns call for skirt support.. So I tried and tried to find a ballroom-length crinoline petticoat. I found plenty of bridal petticoats, but the ones that had anywhere near the shape I was after all had hoops. I even bought one, and it'd be great for doing an 1860s era gown, but it was just WAY to full for what I had in mind.

A four-hoop bridal petticoat I bought on eBay. It has a great shape for the 1860sbut it's HUGE and too rigid for the 1950s.

So, I gave in and made a crinoline petticoat:

Ballgown length crinoline petticoat I made in a day. The first layer is a cotton A-line skirt with three rows of nylon net ruffles, gathered to the yoke. The second layer is about 215 inches of nylon tulle, also gathered to the yoke. The hem of the first layer has nylon horsehair braid in the hem for additional uumph.

I quickly drafted up a yoke from a skirt pattern I had laying around, and used a shorted version of the lining from the Vogue pattern I discuss below to make an under layer. I gathered three rows of nylon net with the gathering foot for my sewing machine and attached them to the under layer, which I did in cotton to avoid having anything scratchy around my legs. I then gathered about 215 inches (in circumference) to the yoke, both for more fluff and to soften the humps from the net. The cotton under layer also has nylon horsehair braid in the hem. The end result is floof but with softness. I'm pretty happy with the result.

The Pattern

I could have patterned this gown from scratch, but again, I really didn't have the time. Conveniently, Vintage Vogue has a pattern that was almost exactly what I needed, except the neckline, which was easy to change:

Vintage Vogue 1094

I modified and mocked up just the bodice, and here is where I have to tell you: it is NICE having friends who sew. I had a great deal of difficulty getting my dress form into the merry widow at the same proportions as myself. The dress form, a Uniquely You, and I have -- ahem! -- strayed from each other in size over the course of the last decade. I ran over to Ms. G's house and she and Ms. H did an excellent fitting. A week later (and one week before the wedding) I did a second fitting in the gown's lining with Ms. H and Ms. S and BAM! had a perfect fit. Or so I thought.

The Drama

In my rush to finish this gown I made an essential mistake. For the gown's lining I used a linen-cotton blend for its weight and breathe-ability. But guess what? Linen and cotton, alone or in combination, stretches a bit on grain. Silk, especially organza, DOES NOT.

With a zipper pinned into the left side seam I could squeeze into the lining after the second fitting. So, I went ahead and embroidered the front and back pieces (stitching through both the charmeuse and organza as well as heavy tearaway stabilizer -- I did NOT want any puckering in the stitches!); basted the charmeuse to the organza; cut out the pieces; sewed up the darts; attached front to back; attached both skirt layers; set in the zipper; and tried it on...

...and it didn't fit.

It didn't find by a lot. I was at T-minus two days before leaving for NYC, and there was no way I could make the bodice fit, even by letting the side seams out as much as possible. Though now would have been an appropriate time to throw the damn thing into a corner in utter frustration, I calmly evaluated the situation. The front fit great, with the side seams in the right place. The back (which went through the most fitting changes) was just too narrow from the waist up. I was starting to see how the gown would look when finished, and I just couldn't give up. There was nothing to do but to redo the back.

I added nearly two inches to the side seams, in an angle from the waist. I cut out a new lining first, to make sure the back still fit smoothly. It wasn't really a big deal to re-embroider the back, and once again baste the organza and charmeuse layers together. The tedious bit was detaching and re-attaching the gathered skirts. That done, and zipper pinned in, I tried it on again...

...and it still didn't fit, but this time it was only by barely half an inch. I let both side seams out as far as they'd go, keeping in mind that I still needed to put in the lining, and tried it on again...voilá, it fit.

The lesson learned here is this: do your fittings in fabric with the same amount of stretch as your fashion fabric. Or don't, but add ease to your finished, fitted pattern, or plenty of fitting allowance in the seams of the exterior of the bodice. I knew all of this, but in my rush figured things would just work out. Things did work out, but backtracking and redoing cost me many hours of sleep.

The Evolution of the Design

Even though I love the look of the McQueen gown, I decided to go with a much less ostentatious amount of embroidery. That amount of embroidery just wouldn't have been right for this particular gown. Along the way I also decided that covering the embroidery with a sheer fabric was silly. My sewing buddies agreed, and the overbodice disappeared from the design.

But I didn't want a purely strapless gown. It would've looked fine, but just wasn't what I was going for. So, while the above drama was going on, I patterned out and stitched up a sleeveless, crew-neck bodice that only went down to the underbust line and opened center back. I wanted the center back to gap, and so closed it with only one button at the top, with a second false button for symmetry. In an episode of min-drama, it took me an hour to make both covered buttons; I put a layer of cotton under the organza exterior, to hide the shiny button dome, and all that fabric is a tight squeeze behind the button back.

The Accessories

The complete ensemble must have accessories, of course, starting with shoes.

 

Satin pumps by Nina.

I found a just PERFECT pair of satin pumps, which were pretty darn comfortable and in a height that I'm pretty used to wearing.

I also needed a clutch, just something large enough to carry my cellphone, a room key, and lipstick. I found this on Etsy:

Purse by RokkiHandbags on Etsy.

The purse is lined with cotton, closes with a magnetic snap,
and has a number of card pockets.

Yup, it's an old book cover converted into a clutch purse. The book here is The Ruling Passion by Henry Van Dyke, copyright 1913, which I have never heard of, but I thank his publisher for the color and layout of the cover, which now has a new life as a purse.

And I absolutely ADORE it. Not only does it match the dress just right, and not only is it just the right size for what I wanted to carry -- it's funky, clever, and unique. I love products that have a flair of different about them, that take a wild detour away from mainstream. This purse is exactly my style.

The Finished Ensemble

The evening before I had to get on the plane I did the hand-stitching required to set in the lining (but left behind some basting stitches) and wrestled a hem onto the taffeta layer (the chiffon layer got its hem earlier, accompanied by a great deal of swearing). I even managed to pack before collapsing into bed.

Here's the finished gown, photographed after I got home:

And here's the dress in action. I had my hair and make-up done at a local salon, with astounding results: my hair remained perfect and comfortable for over 10 hours! I also had a fun game of "find the bobby pins" at the end of the night; I pulled 29 out of my hair. The salon was Miano Viel, if you're interested, and my stylist's name was Rebecca, who gets my hearty recommendation.

The dress has quite a few "oh well, I'm just going to have to live with thats" but as far as I'm concerned, the dress was a success by virtue of having been wearable by the time of the event. I did receive quite a few compliments, so I must have done good. Best of all: it felt really good to be stitching again! So, stay tuned for more to come.

P.S. if I ever, propose working with chiffon again...just shoot me quickly and put me out of my misery.

So, about those umbrellas....

Getting back to those umbrellas: here's one. It's flat, black, boring and very umbrella-like.

"Rainkist" branded umbrella. Sold to me as a
"Leighton Fashion Stick" No idea if they're
the same, but it doesn't matter, the umbrella
I got had these essential features:
manual open, a wooden stick and handle,
and sew-able rib tips. The slider is still
plastic, but I can live with that.

The ribs on this umbrella are quite long, and have some room to flex. So, after a little manipulation of the original canopy, we have this:

Same umbrella, after manipulating the canopy with some pins.

Here's what the result after drawing a new pattern and mocking it up:

Mock-up of the redrafted canopy.

Are we looking more Edwardian-ish yet?