Revisiting Resolutions

New Year's Eve, the day on which I traditionally assess my previous year's costuming to-do list and reflect on how it went. This was probably my least productive costuming year yet, worse than 2020 somehow, but let's see how it adds up:

1850sSort undergarments: repair, replace and add laundry markings. The goal is to have:

• 4 Chemises (3 plain, optional 4th embellished) Nope. I think I have two that are wearable, and both are more hole than whole.
• 4 Pairs Drawers, ditto I have three in "wearable but embarrassing" condition
• 1 corded petticoat, 1 quilted These are still functional at least.
• 3 white cotton petticoats (plain or embellished) Technically, but only 1 I like.
• Corset  Actually made this one. It's comfy, though I think I could get better shaping.
• 4 pairs cotton stockings Some number, but I need to dispose of the worn-out pairs.
• All silk and wool stockings in good order. Wool, yes. Some of the silk need to be altered.

Clean and repair outer garments and gowns. The goal is to have:

• 1 work dress and 1 nice dress for cold weather. Work needed.
• 1 work dress and 1 nice dress for warm weather. Time to plan some new gowns...
• Cold and warm weather bonnets, both working and 'nice' versions. Better on the cold than warm...
• Winter coat Procured supplies and cut it out at least.
• Warm-weather wrap Pattern acquired.
• Two aprons Technically, though one's more of a "fine accessory".
• Fine accessories suited to the nice dresses Made a two caps (1856 Morning Cap
  1858 Spotted Muslin Morning Cap), but not the undersleeves and collars I'd intended.

1860s 

Underwear and work clothes as for 1850s. Yeah...

 Hoops fixed up neatly. Nope.

 Sort out bonnets and remake or discard the unusable ones. I should do that one of these days 

Have at least one fashionable early 1860s ensemble assembled. Rather the opposite, I fear.
 

16th century 

Make one more smock (plain or embellished). Nope.

New kirtle. Still waiting on my pre-order of The Typical Tudor.

 Finish the round gown. Mocked-up, but waiting on the kirtle to fit it properly. 

Fit waistcoat better. Also waiting on the kirtle. 

Make a jacket or cassock as an extra outerwear option. Actually a coat, but I did this one! 

Sort out headgear, personal linens. I could get started, but again am waiting on the new book. 

Hem sheets for camping. More linen acquired!
 

18th century

Finish 1780s stays. Actually did this one. And then didn't post it for 5 months. 

Make a pocket. Good idea. 

Make one gown. Also a good idea. 

Make pads to try the hairstyles from the American Duchess book. Materials procured. 

[Maybe make a peignoir for the hairdressing because it'd be fun...] I cut it out, and started piecing it. Miles of ruffle to hem.

Other

Replace Regency/Empire/whatever-you-call-the-high-waisted-early-19th-century-sihlouette petticoat Still need to do. 

Finish the red print Empire gown. Sleeve gusset issues, but this one's been sitting at 90% since late 2019. 

Cotton spencer. Need to get gowns sorted out first. 

Draft pelisse (the one with the greatcoat-style capes). After I work out the spencer fitting issues. 

1870s spoon-busk corset from my custom pattern. Maybe this year? I finally may have some 1870s events on the horizon.

 1900s corset from my custom pattern. It would be nice to get that railway costume started... 

Start on undergarments for early 1900s traveling suit. After the corset.

 Linen tablecloth. Did this one! Never posted it, since it was just some simple hemming. 

 

Draft folder below 50 by the end of the year, particularly finishing the hairdressing posts. Currently at 87, after going back over 100 earlier this year.  

 
Other Completed Projects: 

Hand-plaited Straw Hat 

Straw Ornaments c.1850s 

1930s Silk Slip

 1933 Striped Skirt 

1956 Zigzag cotton dress

 1956 Green silk dress with bolero 

Yoga Pants

Zigzag Dress, c.1956

Cotton dress, adapted from figure 4 in the 1956 Haslan Book of Fuller Figures Drafting No. 3.  What I like about the design is how lightly-fitted and comfortable it looks: a practical, casual garment for moving around in.

 

The material is a black and white zig-zag patterned cotton, with black plastic buttons. Machine sewn, except for the buttonholes, which are worked by hand. The diagram didn't specify whether the sleeve was to be faced and folded up, or have a faux-cuff attached. I opted to apply a separate band in imitation of a turned cuff. In the illustration, the garment is shown with a matching (self-fabric?) belt with two buttons. I converted this to a waistband, mostly because I don't like sewing pleats directly to other pleats (skirt to bodice). Also, the drafting instructions didn't given any directions for how to handle the waist-treatment.

Evening Gown with Bolero, c. 1956

I made this ensemble last summer for a wedding, but somehow got no pictures of me wearing it. The zipper also decided to shred itself the second time I put the dress on, so it's been languishing on the repair pile for a while.

Green dress!

The outer material is an apple-green silk shantung, lined in magenta silk habotai, both from Fashion Fabrics Club. The shantung came fully interfaced, which did some interesting things with the skirt drape, but didn't make it unbearably warm to wear (as I had feared). I drafted the pattern from a custom sloper using the Haslan system. The design is outfit No. 8, in the 1956 Haslan Book of Fuller Figures Drafting No. 3

The dress has a skirt of four sloped panels (nearly forming a complete circle) with a dropped waistline, princess-seamed bodice (and extra darts), and sweetheart-neckline halter. The bolero is made from the same material as the dress, with intrinsic sleeves and stand-up collar around the back of the neck. The dress zips down the left side; the halter back is fitted an has no separate fastener. I opted to use self-fabric-covered buttons for the two decorative points/flaps.

Coat, 16th century

 As usual, I found myself scrambling to complete a garment for one of my very few events this year (the Goode's Company muster), but never did finish the last few steps. 

This time, it was a mid/late 16th century woman's coat or waistcoat, patterned from the advance chapter of The Typical Tudor which I received last autumn for having pre-ordered the book. I'm still eagerly awaiting the final product (not in the least so I can start on my next kirtle with more confidence), so it was nice to get a useful sneak-peak. The outer material is a pale blue (twilled) wool stuff from Burnley & Trowbridge, whence came also the fastening hooks; the lining is mid-weight linen from fabrics-store.com (left-over pieces in both white and natural). I did the major internal seams by machine due to the time crunch, but finished the sleeve gussets and all the edges by hand.

A coat.

I intentionally tried to draft this coat with extra wearing ease in the upper arms/shoulder and upper chest, which has been a problem with my earlier outerwear from this period (a waistcoat). The mock-up seemed to suit, but I'm not entirely happy with the fit of the final garment. The gussets in the sleeve elbow were annoying to insert, but less so than I feared. I'm also not entirely convinced of their utility in this instance, but the pictorial evidence shows awkward little elbow gussets, so I sewed them. The skirt's extra volume is contained in three box pleats set into the side and back seams at the waist: these looked weird in the instructions, but came together quite easily. They reminded me of the pleats on the 1790s robe I once made.

Tiny, tiny stitches!

One aspect of this project that I am pleased with is the hand-stitching. All along the hem and openings (wrists, neck, front), the wool and linen are joined with tiny whip or running stitches. I am rather pleased with how small and even the stitching ended up.

Striped Skirt, c.1933

I started getting interested in 20th century vintage sewing last summer, but for various reasons haven't been able to post most of the resulting garments. This c.1933 skirt is the first one ready to photograph. 

'Tis stripey.

The underlying shape is very simple: four skirt pieces, each tapered toward the waist, and a two-piece shaped waistband/belt. I ended up adding a few small pleats to make the fabric drape better on me. This skirt is certainly comfortable, but I'm not particularly happy with the shaped waistband. It was weirdly difficult to fit: I cut out a mockup to my measurements with suitable ease, then took it in and reshaped the back seam to fit, cut the revised pattern in the fashion fabric...and had to take it in twice more. I used bound buttonholes instead of overstitching them, which was a first. I like the neat welted-esque finish (and the speed) of the bound holes, but trimming them is finicky.

I got a length of wool to make a second one of these, but honestly can't decide if I should follow the pattern exactly, or opt for a narrower waistband, or save the fabric for a different maxi-skirt.

1780s Stays

For the second day of Christmas: the stays I cut out a year ago last April. I actually finished binding them over the summer, but never managed to photograph the finished garment. The chamois leather was much easier to sew than any other sort I've work with; I ended up using a regular sharp needle rather than a leather needle, and it didn't have any sticking trouble. 

Finished Stays

I realized after I'd committed to the style that the shoulder straps really shouldn't have been bound. I also watched a couple of Luca's videos on original 18th century stays (via Foundations Revealed) while doing said binding, and now want to completely re-make these stays, with slightly different grainlines on the pieces.

Underarm guards are based on several examples in PoF 5. 

Easing the leather around the curves got easier as I worked, but it was still annoying, and there are several points I've less than pleased with--but I can live with that as an alternative to re-doing the binding.

Still rather pleased with the eyelets, if not the tab binding.

Merry Christmas

 

HFF 5.12: Sauce

The Challenge: Getting Saucy. Make a sauce.

The Recipe: Sauce Piquante from Eliza Acton's Modern Cookery

The Date/Year and Region: 1865, London

How Did You Make It:  I chopped two very small onions, totaling ~3 Tbsp worth, fried them in butter, added 1 tsp flour, and browned it a little more than intended (but didn't quite burn it). I then added 1 pint of fresh-made vegetable stock in lieu of drippings,, 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper, 1 bay leaf, and a few sprigs of thyme. I brought this to a boil, and let simmer until the rest of the meal was ready (15-20 ish minutes), then strained out the solids, and added a dash of black pepper,and ~1 oz of apple cider vinegar.

Total Cost: Unsure. Used home-grown onions and thyme, and homemade vegetable stock, so not very expensive.

How Successful Was It?: The sauce ended up quite thin, and rather strong, mostly tasting of vinegar plus some cayenne. I probably shouldn't have strained out the onion pieces; it does only specify the thyme and bay being removed. Tasted on its own, the sauce was a bit much (mostly vinegar-flavored), but poured over meat, it added a bit of a pick-me-up.

How Accurate Is It?: I already noted the onions, and I'm wondering if I should have stirred the sauce more before pouring, with how the vinegar flavor predominated. I'll probably make this again, but will be more careful about the vinegar and stirring it in well.

Per the instructions, I served this sauce with Fillet of Beef (er, shoulder roast baked in lots of butter), with a side of Broccoli ala Francaise, and also bread and mashed potatoes.

[The broccoli was the best part of the meal: nice and buttery and steamed. I forgot the lemon juice, and just poured a little melted butter over the vegetables after removing them from the water. It tasted very nice, and I had seconds. The bread and potatoes were modern recipes. The fillet of beef wasn't bad (it's hard to go wrong with a ton of butter, some salt and pepper), and I finished my piece, but beef isn't really my thing.]

I think this is an excellent color for
something named 'sauce piquante'.

H.F.F. 5.10: Let Them Eat Cake

The Challenge: Let Them Eat Cake. Make a cake, or cakes, or anything involving "cake".

The Recipe: Queen Cake from Eliza Leslie's Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes and Sweetmeats

The Date/Year and Region: 1832, Philadelphia

How Did You Make It: Half-scale. I used 3 large eggs (for ~5 historic ones), 1/2 lb butter, 1/2 lb granulated sugar, 7 oz flour, 1 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp mace, 1/4 tsp cinnamon.  I  beat the butter and sugar together, then mixed the spices and flour, and beat the eggs separately. I added the flour mixture and eggs to the butter/sugar, then stirred in 2 oz of mixed brandy and white white, and 3/4 tsp rosewater. I baked the cakes in my new queen cake tins. Each tin was buttered and floured before baking.

This half batch made 1 of each shape, large and small, as well as an extra of the large round. Per the period instructions, I only filled each tin halfway, which was felicitous, as each cake basically doubled in height.  I was worried about need to use a utensil to free the cakes, and potentially scraping the tins, but the cakes actually pulled away from the sides like they were supposed to, came free with a few gentle taps to the pan.

I also made the icing at half scale for the icing: beat 1 egg white (rounded down for the size) into stiff peaks, added 6 teaspoons of powdered sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon rosewater. It gave a nice meringue texture, but didn't make enough to cover all the sides of the cakes. So, I probably shouldn't have rounded down the egg size (or possibly only the tops are meant to be frosted). I tried setting the iced cakes in the oven at "bread proof" (100F) to approximate the 'warm place to dry, not too close to the fire' instructions, but after 2 hours the icing was still tacky. Instead, I ended up baking them at 200F for another hour to dry the icing.

Time to Complete: Not counting the week to clean my oven after attempt 1  About 20 minutes to prepare the batter and pans, 15-20 minutes per batch in the oven, another 2+ hours to frost and dry.

Total Cost: Unsure.

How Successful Was It?: Second time was the charm. The cakes have a nice crumb, strong spicy flavor (neither too insipid or overwhelming), and stay fresh for a surprisingly long time. On days 3-5, the remaining cakes were slightly tough, but still quite palatable. 

My first attempt, using the Queen Cakes receipt from The Practical Housekeeper (1855) on a quarter scale was a complete disaster. The batter was fairly light after beating it for a long while, but the batter completely melted when baked (leaving behind only currants in melted butter in the pans and a huge mess in my oven). I also tried using pasteurized egg whites in the icing, but found that 'not suitable for meringues' also applies to meringue-like icings, so I used a regular egg white on the second attempt. Which worked much better.

How Accurate Is It?: I'm feeling pretty good about the tins. I used an electric oven and mixer. I already noted scaling down the eggs. I rounded down the rosewater in the recipe based on the proportions given in the icing receipt: it called for 8 drops lemon essence or 1 Tbsp rosewater in the icing, but the 12 drops of lemon or 1/2 glass of rosewater in the cake. I used the icing proportion instead, and concluded that 1 1/2 Tbsp was the appropriate amount of rosewater, and then halved that as I was working at half-scale.

Test cake has come out of the oven, large pans ready to go in.

Queen cake in many shapes

The cakes that lasted long enough to get frosted.

Queencake Pans

I'm very fortunate to have a friendly neighborhood tinsmith who likes experiments. 

Thus, queencake pans:

The pans are both numerous and shiny.

Sources for this project were both informative, and less common than I expected. I couldn't find any contemporary (c.1840-1865) illustrations of them, as are sometimes found in Beeton's or the other household books. In fact, the only historic illustration I could find was this from 1907: 

Queen Cake Pans from Saleable Shop Goods (London, 1907)

Written sources are a bit more plentiful, though again most receipts only say to use queencake pans, without describing them in great detail. Put all together, we know that the tins:

• Come in multiple sizes
• One of those sizes has an average volume of ~1.5-2 cups
• Various shapes are used, including round and oval
• Most queencake receipts give a thick batter, and are expected to double in size while cooking

Miss Leslie's Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats (1828) specifies that oval or round pans are best, and gives a queen cake receipt which calls for ~12 such pans; it uses 1 lb of flour, 1 pound butter, 14 oz sugar, and 10 eggs. The pans are to be filled about half-way. This advice is repeated verbatim in other books, as late as The American Family Cook Book (1860). [Compared to similarly sized cake receipts I've made, this suggests each queencake pan should bake about 5/6 cup batter, or that the total volume of each tin is 1.67-2 cups. As noted below, though, contemporary pans apparently came in a few different sizes.]

The complete Biscuit and Gingerbread Baker's Assistant (1854) calls for "some oval, round or other shaped small pans, similar to Queen's cake pans but rather deeper".  

The Practical Cook Book (1860) has three queencake recipes, one calling for rounds and two for tins. One of the tin receipts mentions rolling out the "paste" and spreading it 1/8" thick on the bottom of the tins (implying a very thick dough rather than a liquid batter).

An 1842 catalog of tin and japanware lists "Small, medium, and large" queencake tins.

The Saleable Shop Goods bakery manual (linked above) gives two sizes of queencake, the larger priced twice as high as the smaller.

Two sizes of the replica tins. In real life,
the short tins are also noticeably smaller in footprint.

For construction and detailed size information, I searched my usual material culture archives. None of the U.S. museums I checked had queencake pans or tins mentioned. Fortunately, the UK National Trust online collections came through with several sets. None are dated, but they show an array of shapes including some set combinations; some include dimensions, and most of the pictures are close enough to show construction techniques (some even mention the edge/corner construction in their descriptions!

These pans include a pair of square tins made "with rolled over edges and chamfered corners on the bases", and another set of five pans: an oval, a crescent, a clover, a diamond, and a triangle. Other lone shapes are a hexagon, kite, and heart. I also found another square, crescent, and two different triangles

Construction details. 

This was an interesting find. According to the expert, these style of folded and chamfered joins are easier and cheaper than a soldered join or wire edge. Experimentally, most of the tins hold water short term (say, while washing them), but won't contain a thin liquid indefinitely (as when a receipt calls for way too much butter so that the batter melts into a pool of butter with some sad currants at the bottom).
Even the shapes with sharp corners (like the diamond above) which have tiny holes in some of their corners are capable of containing the thick queencake batter while baking. 

Note on patty pans: this isn't a case of British and American English diverging. I've found queencake tins and patty pans named in cookbooks on both sides of the Atlantic. For example, Walsh's The Manual of Domestic Economy (1857) refers to patty pans of different sizes and shapes, but does not include any among its illustrations. Mrs. Rundell's Domestic Cookery (1859) mentions baking in small and very small patty pans, and has one receipt which call for "small moulds, patty pans, or saucers." Esther Copley's The Cook's Complete Guide (1810) mentions patty pans for making tarts, tartlets, and individual cheesecakes; The American Family Cook Book  (1859) does as well. I haven't found a definite answer for how queencake tins and patty pans differ, though the illustrations in Beeton suggest patty pans have sloped sides where queencake tins in the 1907 illustration have straight ones (miniature pie pans versus cake pans). The sources indicate that patty pans are small, come in different shapes and sizes, may have lids (?), and can be about the size of a saucer, tea cup, or half a soup plate in volume. This tracks pretty closely to I could find about queencake tins as far as size and shape. 

As for surviving patty pans, the only American museum example I found so far had no picture, description, or dimensions attached. The Museum of London and UK National trust again came though, the latter with several large sets of identical pans: about 90 of these 9cm diameter round pans, 24 rectangular (4.5cm x 6.5 cm); a set of 33 shallow round patty pans; an 18th century transferware patty pan; a set of 11 fluted round pans; fluted square pans, diamond-shaped pans, and more. 

Original: Cream Wool Coat with Chenille Braidwork

Wool cloak with silk trim, 1851. The Met.

 

It's a good thing I don't reenact the early 1850s, so I would very much need to replicate this cloak.