Originals: Bright Embroidered Slippers, 1855-65

 I love these:

Embroidered Wool Slippers, c.1855-1865, from Historic New England.

The description says that these are wool with embroidery and silk lining. I really love the contrast between the white ground exterior and the bright scarlet trim/bow/lining.

Zooming in close (thank you for the high resolution photos!), the embroidery appears to mostly be in chain-stitch, with applique (the red shapes and green and blue rosettes) and gold couched threads. At least two of those chain-stitch lines are done in alternating colors.

Fabric Lengths for Historic Sewing Projects

With the caveat that lots of projects can require more or less fabric, here's the "rule of thumb" measures that I use when I find an interesting fabric for future use. Obviously, if you are looking for fabric for a specific project, the yardage can be more precisely calculated by laying out the pattern pieces.

Given my eras of interest, these measures are mostly based around the middle of the 19th century (1850s into early 1860s); when an era is not specified, it generally means this time period. Most of the values given are minimums that I would need to comfortably make item, with only a little piecing for elements like piping; it may be possible to squeak through with less fabric, but additional yardage will be needed for matching patterns, adding self-trim, or for particularly capacious cuts like trains, flounced or swagged skirt layers and hanging sleeves.

Skirts and petticoats (1850s-1860s) are calculated assuming 3 panels cut 45" long and faced with a different fabric (for 54"-60" wide fabric), or 3.5-4 panels of the same length (if 44" fabric). Linings are not included in the base fabric measures.

Cotton Calico (assumed to be ~44" width)

1/2 yard, fat quarters, or small remnants work well for doll clothes and small crafts

~1.5 yards for a sunbonnet

1-2 yards for an apron 

3-4 yards for an 18^th century petticoat (skirt)

5  yards for a Regency/Empire dress

6-8 yards for an 18^th century gown (can vary greatly based on style)

7-8 yards for an 1850/1860s dress

Light-weight cottons (such as lawn, organdy, and batiste) 

1/2 yard: collars and cuffs; under-sleeves; or an 1850s cap

1 yard for a basic chemisette

2-3 yards for a fancy apron

2.5-3 yard pieces for blouses (white waists)

3 yards for an 1850s basque bodice or mantle

3.75/5 yards for an 1850s skirt without a bodice (54"-60" wide/ 44”)

4-5+ yards for an Empire-style dress (4 yards min for 60" wide fabric, 5 yards  min 44" wide) 

7-8 yard for a sheer 1850s dress (for a 60" wide fabric, I can get this down to 6 yards)

Cotton broadcloth (44" wide) 

Can be used for collars, cuffs, undersleeves, and aprons, same yardage as “light cottons”

2 yards for Victorian drawers

3 yards for chemises or a corded petticoat (including tucks or a facing for the cording)

4.5-5 yards for a basic 1850s petticoat (increase yardage for decorative tucks, etc.)  

Cotton Coutil/Twill (54”-60” wide)

1-2 yard for a corset depending on size and style

Linen (weights vary by project type, 54"-60")

½ yard – 1 yard pieces of fine linen for caps, coifs, kerchiefs, or ruffles

¼ yd -1 3/8 yd for early modern ruffs

1 yard for a medieval through 18^th century apron (1/2 yard if pieced)

2 yards for a Regency chemise; or a large medieval veil or fancy 18^th century cap

2-3 yards for a basic 18^th century petticoat (3 for an over petticoat)

3 yards for a medieval or Early Modern smock, or a Tudor sleeveless kirtle

Wool (tropical weight suiting 54"-60" wide unless noted otherwise)

As little as 1/4 yard of wool lasting can make the uppers for a few pair of gaiters. 

 ½ yard for a Tudor partlet

1-1.5 yard for an Empire-style spencer

1.5 yards sheer wool for a capeline bonnet (generally green or black)

2 yards will make a square shawl (1.5 yards of 54") 

3 yards of wool flannel will make a flannel petticoat or a man's overshirt 

3 yards will make an 1850s basque bodice or jacket; or a Tudor kirtle or a medieval surcote (no sleeves)

3 yards of heavier coating wool will make a moderate-length mantle, cloak, or coat 

3.75 yards will make an 1850s skirt 

4 yards for medieval cotes and similar garments, Tudor gowns (4.5-5 for a safer margin sleeves), and Regency redingotes or pelisses.

6+ yards will make an 1850s dress (or, if wool flannel, a bathing costume)

Silk (taffetas unless otherwise noted, assume 54”-60” width)

1/4 yard for dancing slippers (often satin) or silk gaiters, small crafts and trimming projects

1/2 yard pieces can be useful for trimming bonnets, most reticules, or making small crafts

1/2 yard organza for a fancy 18^th century apron, ½-1 yard for a cap, 2 yards for sleeve ruffles  

1/2-1 yard for covering a Victorian parasol frame.  

1yd makes a bonnet, shaped belt, or trim for a dress 

1.5 yards should be enough for a Tudor front-piece (check finished length of skirt)

3 yards for a 1850s basque bodice, mantle or jacket; or for lining a short cloak or paletote

3.75 yards will make an 1850s skirt 

4 yards for a Regency day dress (may be able to squeak a ball gown with short sleeves out of 3 yards)

4-5 yards for a Tudor gown (4.5-5 for a safer margin sleeves)

6+ yards will make an 1850s dress or basic 18th century gown (more needed for layered effects like polonaises)

Red Paisley Wrapper, c.1850s

This fabric has been in my stash for a while, waiting to replace my blue mid-19th-century wrapper. Fortunately, I ended up needing a second wrapper for our recent Victorian weekend in Port Townsend, which gave me an excuse to make it up.

While I didn't actually use a pattern, this wrapper is mostly based off the construction methods in the Kayfig KF611 wrapper pattern. It has a fitted back and side/underarm bodice taken from my most recent toile, but the front is made of two full-length loose panels gathered at the shoulder.

This red paisley could only have become a wrapper.

Because this is my fifth time* time making a wrapper in this style, I wanted to do something a little different. Since my blue wrapper has bishop sleeves, this red one got pagodas (though I did narrow them a little from what I used on the red plaid basque). Instead of a fitted front lining and jewel neckline, I tried to copy a wrapper I remember seeing in the MOHAI collection, which had no cut neckline in the front, and instead used had straight panels overlap to make a moderate V-neckline. Not having the pictures to hand at the time, I tried copying the look from memory: adding piping to the shoulder seam, and using the selvedges to make the center front opening. The closest original image I could find while working on this wrapper was an 1840s fan-front dress from the Met has a similar V-neck arrangement, so the front exterior was a combination of what I could see in that image and what I remembered from the MOHAI wrapper.

The other annoying thing about not having my construction detail pictures was figuring out the lining (the MOHAI catalog image does at least show the V-neck as I remember it, but not the interior). If I recall correctly, the original didn't have a lining in the front at all. However, I was concerned about how to shape the armscyes in that case, and so I opted for a partial lining on the side fronts (really just enough to define the shoulder, side, and armscyes seams.) I copied these side-front linings, again, from my most recent toile, just sloping them from the shoulder seam to the waist so that there was at least 1" to spare around the sleeve. I then laid out the front panel on each shoulder of that partial lining, and filled in the under-arm and front armscye area with scraps of the fashion fabric. 

Each front panel is a half-breadth of the fabric (~22"), with two panels in the back/side skirt. The back/side bodice is piped at the waist and the skirt gauged on; the front panels are obviously cut in a single fall from shoulder to hem. The sleeves are faced with self-fabric. I again opted to use self-fabric ties on this wrapper, because they are so convenient on my blue one. I ended up finding a pastel polychrome cord and tassels, which match all the accent colors in the print and thus makes a perfect belt, and so might remove the self-fabric ties. The belt is stylistically awesome, but I'm not convinced on its ability to hold the panels closed neatly without the ties. The front has no other fastener than those waist ties; they are sufficient, provided one arranges the front panels with care while belting the wrapper, but a brooch or pin at at the V helps it sit more securely.

 

*Those being wrappers #1 and #4, IIRC. Not pictured on this blog are number #2, my own light blue wrapper, and #3, a very dark blue paisley made for the FNLH wardrobe as a maternity dress. That one was fun because it was the first time I tried using drawstrings on the lining of a wrapper.

Plaid Cook's Apron, c.1850s

A straight-forward pinner apron, for our favorite cook. Guess I wasn't quite done with the Christmas presents, after all.

Pinner apron.

The Workwoman's Guide (fig 14, plate 11) calls this a cooking apron, saying:

This is a neat pattern for a housekeeper, cook, or kitchen-maid. The bib is quite plain, and pins to the gown at the corners. The size given in the Plate is suitable for a girl, but the bib should be cut to suit the wearer at once, and not made by guess. The apron is made of check or strong linen. 

For the check, I used a 56" wide medium-weight plaid shirting cotton from Family Heirloom Weavers. As given in the book, it's a very simple apron design: one width of fabric, gathered to a self-fabric band, with a rectangular bib stitched along the top. To move it more into the fifties, the bib is larger and the skirt of the apron adjusted in proportion (waistlines were still a bit high when the Workwoman's Guide was first published in 1838). I also knew that the recipient likes her aprons to properly cover the bodice of her dress.

A slightly better view of the color.

The apron's skirt is narrowly hemmed along the sides (the selvedges weren't suitable to be left as-in), with a deeper 2.5" hem at the bottom edge. The top is gathered into the waistband, and the bib (narrowly hemmed on all four sides) is whip-stitched along the top of the band. Instead of adding tape ties to the back of the apron, I opted to cut the waistband and ties as one. There was plenty of fabric, and it makes a nice bow when tied.

Original: 1840s Adjustable Wrapper

 

Cotton Wrapper, c.1840s, Kent State University Museum.

Since a direct link doesn't work, a search for item "1984.002.0045 ab" in the Kent State University Museum's online collection is the best way to see the alternative views of this lovely cotton print (especially the final detail view of the printed fabric up close, and the front-on view which shows the diagonal grid of the pelerine front to perfection).

The vivid colorway of the printed cotton fabric is what initially caught my eye about this wrapper: there's two different wavy floral lines, one running horizontally and one vertically, with the resulting squares not only alternating between green and yellow/beige in each horizontal row, but those boxes are dyed in a graduated ombre (darker towards the bottom, lighter towards the top) with a subtle tone-on-tone coral motif in each (possibly a resist-dye effect). The size of the motifs and color differences (high contrast in some places, tone-on-tone in others) make it look striking from a distance but somehow less "busy" than I would have expected.

The second thing that caught my eye was the way the side seam in the skirt is a good half-motif off of alignment, which in such a large print really shows. I liked this because while it's strikingly obvious, the mis-matched print doesn't actually detract from my enjoyment of the dress as a visual object. In a way, it draws more attention to the detailed, bright printed design.

The diagonal grid formed by cutting the pelerine front on the bias also really stands out on this example (seriously, go check out the first image with the front view). Again, the fabric itself has so much going on, that simply rotating the motif 90 degrees in one area but not another makes a dramatic effect.

I do wish there was an interior construction photograph of this dress: the description mentions drawstrings in "both bodice and skirt", leading to the conclusion that this was a maternity dress. Strategic drawstrings are certainly a technique which can help fit an 1840s/50s/60s dress to such a changing figure, though I can't say that they are exclusive to maternity dresses versus wrappers worn at other times. Even more convincing to me, is that looking closely at the side-view waistline, it is appears that the mannequin has been padded out in the lower abdomen (mimicking a baby bump), but between the print and the wrapper's soft shape, it's hard to tell for sure. Which, from what I've read about Victorians, would make it an excellent maternity dress.  

January Mending

 Just a few small maintenance projects this month. My red stockings needed darning again, and I also re-attached the outersoles of my low 1840s shoes, which had partially separated over the wet autumn/winter.

Modern Tall Socks

Last of the Christmas presents have found their way home. I did manage a few pairs of not-for-historical reenacting socks in the process. Nothing too technically interesting, because the self-striping yarn is fun enough on its own. 

Orange and pink tones.

Used the 60 cylinder: hung hems, 3-1 mock ribbing, with short row heels and toes. I did 20 rows on the hung hem (makes a nice ~1" hemmed edge), then another 70 rows gradually increasing the tension, and adjusted the foot length to the recipient's shoe sizes.