Clothing Longevity c.1840-1870, Part 1: An Introduction

This project stated with the broad question of "How long did mid-Victorian clothing last?" (and it's reenacting corollary: "Can one justify wear a dress with specifically 1840s style elements at an event set in the 1850s, 1860s, or later by pretending to be old, poor, or rural?"). I've since come to realize it's really a series of related questions encompassing among other things:

• How frequently are dresses (or clothing more generally) being replaced?
• How long is a particular dress expected to be used in its original configuration by its original owner?
• How long can a particular dress (or other garment) continue to be used as clothing in some capacity by any person at all?
• Which people have the means, ability, and inclination to update old garments? Are there groups who do not?
• What assumptions or stereotypes do period writers attach to wearing outdated or outworn clothing?
  

Related to this, of course, is the issue of what happens to a garment after it's initial period of service. Is it being "turned" or altered to continue being used by the same person in the same capacity? Is the garment being altered to serve a different purpose for the same person? Is it being passed on, intact, for use by another? Is it being remade to a different purpose for a different person to use? Is the garment's fabric being re-used for a non-clothing purpose? Or is fiber itself being recycled?

Consider a woman's formerly 'best' silk dress...

• which has been re-made for/by the owner to keep the sleeve shape and other style elements up to date, for continued use as her best silk.
• which has been re-made for/by the owner as a wrapper for wear around her own house, with a new dress taking the role of "best."
• which has been sold through a used clothes dealer and bought by someone else to wear as-is.
• which has been gifted to a servant and re-made to suit the new owner's size, taste, and social station.
• which has been been taken apart and used to make a mantel for the original owner's daughter
• which was put away for several years, and later cut up to make a "crazy quilt"
  
• which has been used for one or more of the above, until the last pieces are finally picked apart by a rag-merchant and sold to a fertilizer company.

Arguably, most of these events can mark the end of the dress, if not the end of the fabric's useful life. And, unfortunately, the sources available to use don't always differentiate between one of these fates and another, especially when it comes to the issue of remaking the dress. As a result, my answers here are going to take a few different forms, and there will be a certain amount of uncertainty about how remade and altered dresses fit into the "life expectancy" of the middle class wardrobe. I'm mostly sticking to sources from the period 1840-1870, excepting The Workwoman's Guide (1838) and a beautifully comprehensive guidebook published in 1873 which brings together many of the elements suggested and implied in the 1850s and 1860s sources.

I'd also like to observe, before we get too much further, that different materials may perform very differently, not only due to their inherent properties, but also on account of how they are worn, laundered, and repaired. Sheer dresses (cotton, silk, or wool) can be very fragile; figured weaves can snag and collect fuzz; cotton prints may be subjected to harsh laundry methods; woolen materials are preyed upon by moths; an expensive silk might entail a much higher level of care than a cheaper material and be worth re-modelling.

And, as a final aside, modern clothing really can't be a guideline in this matter, in my opinion. The materials out clothing it made out of has changed drastically; the manufacturing processes of the fibers themselves produce different fabrics; wear patterns have changed; laundry methods have changed; the frequency a given garment is worn has changed; mending and alterations are much less common; there's greater tolerance for idiosyncrasies in dress; and the way our garments work together are all very different from the practices of the 1850s and 1860s. A modern person retaining clothing from 20+ years ago is not evidence that people in the 18-- commonly did so without censure.

Foods in Season: January

Thinking more about cooking through the season, Victorian style, and decided this year to share the monthly suggestions from Beeton's Book of Household Management.

For January, foodstuffs that should be in season:

Fish- Barbel, brill, carp, cod, crabs, crayfish, dace, eels, flounders, haddocks, herrings, lampreys, lobsters, mussels, oysters, perch, pike, plaice, prawns, shrimps, skate, smelts, soles, sprats, sturgeon, tench, thornback, turbot, whitings

Meat- Beef, house lamb, mutton, pork, veal, venison

Poultry- Capons, fowls, tame pigeons, pullets, rabbits, turkeys

Game- Grouse, hares, partridges, pheasants, snipe, wild-fowl, woodcock

Vegetables-Beetroot, broccoli, cabbages, carrots, celery, chervil, cresses, cucumbers (forced), endive, lettuces, parships, potatoes, savoys, spinach, turnips,-various herbs

Fruit- Apples, grapes, medlars, nuts, oranges, pears, walnuts, crystalized preserves (foreign), dried fruits, such as almonds and raisins; French and Spanish plums; prunes, figs, dates.

*Terminology notes: "house lamb" is, as the name suggests, a lamb that has been hand-raised in the house (generally over bitter winter weather). "Forced" cucumbers would be grown with artificial heating and protection from the elements (greenhouse, use of glass covers outdoors, a "hot bed" with decaying manure used to warm the soil, etc).

2025 Costuming Resolutions

I rather liked how last year's costuming resolutions went (though I'd like to get more of them done!), and I  think that it makes sense to stick with completing ongoing projects rather than starting too many new ones.

• First off, I'm going to try sticking to the "projects done at least 1 week before any event" rule. Triaging my projects a week out, and acknowledging that a given garment won't be done in time for a particular event, helped me plan better and focus on making older items work. I also enjoyed the reenactments more and felt less stressed.
• Finish the chemises and drawers in my WIP basket. This should keep me well-supplied with linens for 19th century events.
• Green plaid 1850s dress actually done and wearable. Hopefully before June, when the weather turns.
• Red wool 1850s basque ensemble. I tried to have this ready for autumn 2024 events, but only have the hemmed skirt and fitted toile done. I'd like to have this complete by Candlelight.
• Shoes for 1850s wear. I either need to make some gaiters or get my purchased ones re-soled ASAP.
• Dotted swiss undersleeves. They've seasoned long enough.
• 1850s Nightgown. My old one is badly worn out.
• Wrap Cape. 
• Linen divided skirt.
• Still trying to get those drafts below 100. While I'm at it, I should systematically go through my old posts and fix what link-rot I can, especially for images on older posts.
  

I think this is a reasonable number of projects: two are nearly done, another is at least half there, several more are cut (and partially sewn), one I've had the fabric for ages, and the remaining three are all things that I actively need to replace. For stretch goals, other WIPs in my basket include a bloomer costume for Nelly, an 18th century peignoir, and an 1850s tucked petticoat. There's also wool earmarked for a 16th century gown and kirtle, and for a 14th century cotte and surcotte...

Original: Silk Reticule c.1825

 A pretty antique to start the year:

Reticule, c. 1825, LACMA.

The purple color is what caught my eye (along with the familiar shape!) I also like the contrasting cording along the seams (which feels very 1820s), the delicacy of the tassels, and of course the elaborate embroidered panel.

2024 Projects in Review

2024 ended up being a pretty quiet year for new historical sewing projects. Instead, it was the year of mending (historic and modern garments), writing historical clothing programs for the museum, starting too many knitting projects, and of sewing projects that didn't quite fit the theme of this blog.

I did mostly end up sticking with the resolution to complete projects early: only one event this year saw me sewing late into the night before. My draft folder is, shamefully, back up to 114entries (including all the book reviews I put off from 2023). As for the Works-In-Progress basket:

• Summer-weight 1850s dress (green plaid). I did complete this dress and wear it to an event. And, after a great deal of difficulty in pinning it neatly closed, discovered I somehow made half of the bodice 1/2" longer than the other half. Currently back in the basket, partially dissembled.
  
• Two 1850s chemises. I completed one and found all the pieces for several others.
  
• Another pair of 1850s drawers Done!.
  
• Dotted Swiss undersleeves. I found and ironed all the pieces, and worked a couple seams, but didn't complete the project.
  
• 1912 wrap cape. No progress. I did, however, put the lining and fasteners onto the 18th century cloak I'd started in 2023.
  
• Wool and linen skirts/dresses for modern wear. I do need to replace my linen split skirt, but mostly focused on repairing it this summer rather than making a new one.
  
• Tudor wool gown. No progess.
  

Other projects this year: I finally made the guimpe for my 1909 travelling suit; also an early 19th century separate pocket (to go along with a program for work); knit some tudor garters; and finally re-made my favorite rolled sewing kit.

Guimpe, 1909

One project which did get finished this year was the proper guimpe or blouse for my suffrage train traveling suit.

I ended up using this diagram for a "tailor-made blouse" from The Elements of Dress Pattern-Making (1913) for the basic shape, including the open sides, three-piece construction, straight band collar, and use a waist-tie (fixed at center back) to hold the garment in place. The style inspiration was this illustration from the September 1908 issue of Good Housekeeping:  

 

I switched the sample pattern to a back-closure, giving a solid front for the vertical tucks. Estimating from the portions, I took the illustration tucks for ~1/4"-1/2", with one tuck width between each. Unfortunately, in the execution, I discovered that 1/2" tucks did not given the same fine effect, and I would have done better to use 1/4" tucks. The collar has three 3/8" tucks, backed with a flat piece of the same fabric.

Finished and newly-ironed guimpe.

My only other regret was not photographing the completed blouse before wearing it. Except for the twill tape tie, the blouse is fully made of a semi-sheer cotton batiste. It's lovely and light, and wears nicely, but it requires extensive ironing, and (even immediately after ironing it) photographs with all sorts of tiny wrinkles not evident to the unaided eye.

Merry Christmas

From Christmas with the Poets (1851)