1919 Corset Ad

I came across an ad-article for Gossard Corsets in the March 1919 issue of Women's Home Companion, and was intrigued by their take on "What the War Has Taught Us About Corsets." Or rather, I was interested in how the conclusion presented is almost diametrically opposed to every modern narrative I've heard about how corsets interacted with women's expanded sphere of activity during WWI. 

What the War Has Taught Us About Corsets 

NEVER in in the world's history has any one article of clothing been so prominently brought before the world as an economic force, as has the corset by the part it played in the Great War. 

It was demonstrated to the Governments of Europe in the early stages of the conflict that women could not stand the burden of their unaccustomed duties unless they were properly corseted. 

Thousands broke down under the strain of the new work and production suffered. When these same women were put into proper corsets, sickness decreased and in many instances production was practically doubled. 

From then on corsets were recognized as an essential in war work and when America's women responded 35,000,000 strong to their Country's call GOSSARD Corsets The Original Front Lacing Corsets [emphasis original] were privileged to contribute, in a large way, to the important duty of preserving their health and efficiency. 

Daily it was demonstrated that the correctly corseted woman was capable of greater and more sustained effort than her uncorseted or poorly corseted sister. The hygienic body support of a correctly designed and fitted corset kept thousands of willing workers well and sustained that splendid woman power that was one of the greatest forces contributing to the conclusion of a successful peace. 

Not only has the war taught every thinking woman the value of correct corseting; it has taught her the wisdon of buying only corsets that are hygienically correct; it has taught her to be fitted carefully and to adjust her corset each time it is worn so she may realize its full benefit and service. 

Gossard Corsets are the complete expression of modern corsetry. If possible, the new Spring and Summer corsets are superior to those of the past season which were generally acknowledged to be without equal in meeting the needs of active womanhood from the stand point of comfort, hygiene and style. 

Even allowing for bias (the whole point of this ad is to sell corsets), the fact that this ad was written in this way indicates that someone in 1919 thought 'corsets help you work better and achieve more' was a plausible and persuasive line or argument for other people in 1919. Which is a useful data point to keep in mind when evaluating the claim that corsets fell out of favor because women started doing a wider variety of active work during the later 1910s.

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.

1908 Linen Travelling Suit

For the 1909 Suffrage event last summer, I decided to make a summer traveling suit. For inspiration, I trawled magazines c.1906-1910, and decided to base mine on this 1908 illustration from Harper's.

"Gray Linen Travelling Suit with bands of old green linen and scarf and tassels of the green." --Harper's Bazaar, June 1908

For the pattern, I opted to draft a single-breasted coat and 9-gored skirt from The "Standard" Work on Cutting Ladies' Tailor-made Garments: A Complete Treatise on the Art and Science of Delineating All Garments for Women Made by Tailors by S. Gordon (1908). While the whole suit is not easily visible in the illustration, the placement of the stripes indicate that we're seeing a 7 or 9 gore skirt, which I interpreted as a 9-gore so that I would have two plain panels rather than striped panels meeting in the center back.

Early steps in the drafting process.

Unfortunately, things got a bit rushed, so I didn't have time to put the stripes on the sleeves, which I do intend to add later. I intentionally omitted the tassels, since I wouldn't be able to perfectly match them to the green linen used on the stripes and buttons. Both the green and grey fabrics are medium-weight linen from fabrics-store.com, with cotton grosgrain for the waistband, and the skirt fully flat-lined in tarlatan. I used cotton coutil for the interlining of the collar, which did give a nice crisp form, but also makes the actual fold of the turn-back a little bulky. The coat lining is light-weight scrap linen from my stash.

It looks a bit better when the dress form isn't stuck on a too-small setting.
That's why the shoulders are falling back at that angle.

All told, this was a really comfortable outfit to wear. It also relatively easy to fit. Despite the book describing it as "front slightly shaped, back moderately shaped at waist", my first mock-up was much too large through the waist. However, the bust, shoulder, and upper chest all fit well from start, so it was a relatively easy revision (taking in the back seams a little near the waist and the front seams a bit more).If I was re-making this ensemble, I'd move the stripes slightly closer together and position them lower on the panels, in order to more closely follow the original. However, I don't mind the placement enough to re-make the whole ensemble (the green bands were applied to the panels before I joined them, which finished the edges neatly, but makes alterations to the trim more difficult). I still intend to add the sleeve trim, but only after I actually finish the hat and make a better stock/chemisette to go with it.

Original: Wiener Werkstätte Blouse, c.1917-18

 Happy New Year!

Blouse, 1917-18 by Wiener Werkstätte. LACMA.

I went looking for a 1924 dress to ring in the new year, but got distracted by how comfortable this WWI-era print blouse looks.  I had pegged it for a much later design before realizing it was a Wiener Werkstätte piece. And the longer I look at it, the more I like the drape of the garment. Late 1910s styles may be the next era I need to experiment with.

Striped Dress, 1956

This project was drafted from the first design in the Haslam Book of Full Figure Draftings No. 3 (1956). 

The Goal.

I used a striped cotton seersucker (white and pale lavender); the three flower-shaped purple plastic buttons (recycled off a pair of pajamas my mom made me c.2001). As usual with the Haslam drafts, making/finishing instructions are sparse, so the sewing was up to my own interpretation. The main issues here was in the closure, which runs down the center front of the bodice, where the skirt is a solid panel. I took this as an offset closure, and made it with half of the front panel attached to a hidden waistband of white grosgrain. The bodice closes with three functional buttons, as shown in the drawing; I worked the buttonholes by hand, because I think they look nicer than my machine buttonholes.

Still need to fix the mannequin. The dress looks much better on a person.

Other than the waistband interpretation, my intentional change to the garment was adding a pocket in one of the right side seams. My unintentional change was not lining the lower bodice, which I was tempted to correct after-the-fact. However, I've found the dress comfortable and sufficiently opaque without it, though I wonder if the extra body would help the center front lie flatter. 

I was concerned that this dress's closures are all below the bust, though I've found that the fabric does stay put and provide decent coverage. Where it's giving me problems is actually lower down, as the fabric tends to gape between the buttons. I think I can solve this with the addition of some carefully-placed hooks and eyes. To get a fit more like the model, I'd need to bone the lower center front of the bodice, and possibly add shape-wear beneath it. Instead, I'm leaning towards keeping this dress unstructured, and easy to wash & wear.

Book Review: The Housekeeper's Tale

The Housekeeper's Tale by Tessa Boase

 

The Housekeeper's Tale: The Women Who Really Ran the English Country House by Tessa Boase is a light but informative exploration of the real lives of five 19th-20th century British housekeepers.  

The book has 289 pages, divided into five chapters with an introduction and an epilogue. Each chapter functions as a case study following one housekeeper in one country house. Arranged chronologically, the first chapter opens in 1832 (though the woman in question began working at that house in 1818), and the last chapter follows a career of 1920-1971. The prologue uses an 1890 advertisement for a housekeeper to introduce the occupation and its qualifications, while the epilogue follows a present-day (2013) housekeeper working in a historic country house. There are sixteen pages of photographs in the center of the book, showing the different houses, the housekeepers (where possible) and some of the documents and artifacts which informed the book. Many of the original images are black and white, but the modern ones are in color.

The author is a journalist by trade, which really shows up in the writing: she crafts an eminently readable narrative, albeit one which occasionally speculates about the housekeepers' thoughts and reactions. I think the latter is good interpretation that causes the reader to empathize with the housekeepers' experiences, but it's also something to keep in mind when using the book for reference. Although the work is based on primary sources including letters, diaries, account books, newspaper articles, and contemporary advice books, it doesn't have the density of citations per page that one finds in most academic writing.

I found this an enjoyable and informative book, and a quick read. The one aspect that I question is the choice of the five cases. While the idea of the Victorian housekeeper is routinely invoked, all of the five real-life example are substantial exceptions to that archetype. For example, while it is repeatedly stated that housekeepers were expected to leave service upon marriage, three of the five examples used here are women who were married with children while working as housekeepers; the only "spinster" housekeepers were one who ended up prosecuted for theft, and the one whose short tenure was exclusively during the house's use as a World War I hospital. And while I think this points to a larger theme that no one really fits a single mold, it also feels like the selected case studies are not necessarily representative examples. But then, per the Laurel Thatcher Ulrich quote, a 'well-behaved' woman following her expected role does not leave documentation the way a more disruptive one does.

 

Score: 4 stars as a book (3.5 as reference material)

Accuracy: The book delves into some interesting and otherwise inaccessible (manuscript) primary sources, but you do need to keep an eye out for the inventive and speculative reconstructions. 

Strongest Impression: An informative but not taxing read, and definitely the better sort of popular history book. Useful background reading for housekeeping, and especially for the changes which British domestic service underwent from c.1830-1970, but I wouldn't use this as the sole source for an impression. 

Original: Sheer Lingerie Dress, c.1900

 I went looking for some inspiration for a c.1909 ensemble for my next new event. This dress is a little early, but it looks refreshingly cool for summertime. I particularly like the diagonal stripe effect achieved by the lace insertion.

Cotton dress, USA, c.1900. LACMA.

Apron, c.1952

 I decided an apron would useful in my modern kitchen, and so decided to make vintage one. As you do.

Since it's not for living history use, I just pulled fabric scraps out of my stash rather than worrying about accurate prints.

Scrap fabric. Finding two that didn't clash horribly was a challenge.

 

The illustration.

For a pattern, I went with the apron from the Haslan Books of Drafts No. 8 Lingerie (c.1952) No actually pattern instructions are included, so I cut the fabric as indicated, and just sort of pieced it together. I opted to use double layers on the waistband, bib, and straps, which allows most of the raw edges to be encased. I felled the seam on the lower section which joins the blue trim to the print.  The back isn't show in the pattern, so I simply joined the straps to the waistband; I'm satisfied with how it's working so far.

Finished apron.

Evening Dress Ideas, c.1903

Another event-based deadline, so it's time to post some of the research and inspirations.

For this one, I need a fashionable evening dress for a c.1903 dinner.

Of course, I quite spoiled by all the specimens available at the Met. There's a number of sleeve options (elbow, short, very short length), of which I'm leaning towards the elbow-length sleeves of layered net.

Evening Dress, 1901-1905, from the Met.

 

There's also this dress with its more dramatic net sleeves:

Lucie Monnay Evening Dress, 1902-3. From the Met.

 

I like this dress's use of striped fabric to add color, texture, and contour along the skirt gores.

This next one is definitely worth clicking through for the full view: the embellishments are heavily layered on, adding more contrasting textures than colors. You can also see the train on the skirt, and the ruffles supporting it from the underside.

Evening dress, c.1900. From LACMA.

 

I wish VAM had more images to accompany this c.1902 evening dress, which has a very detailed description listing all the trims and decorative techniques used on it: self-fabric tucks, embroidered net, silver & pearl embroidery, and net insertion.

Backview of a c.1902 evening dress at VAM.

Though I think this one from c.1900-1905 is closer to what I might be able to attempt in the available time, given that there's apparently little trim on the bodice or skirt, with the embellishments largely confined to the net sleeves.

Taken all together, there are some key details I'll want to include to make my dress read as 1903:

• Gored skirts with a train, with minimal bulk through the hips
• Soft fullness at the front waist (hint of a pigeon-breast shape)
• Wide neckline out to the shoulder, fairly square
  
• Diaphanous mid-length sleeves
• Pastel palette, especially tending to pale yellows and pinks
  
• Fussy layering of trims, with different textures [especially with heavy beading/embroidery/sequins on very light fabrics like net and chiffon]
  

Long-sleeved Dress, c.1928

Back to the Women in Railroad program: a dress for a Pullman maid in the 1920s. There are actually a few decent reference images, and I was also able to access the company's guidelines for maids. It was thus clear that interpreter needed a plain black dress accessorized with a white apron, cuffs, collar, and cap/frill. 

 

Dora Holloway (center) with her recent trainees.
From The Pullman News, January 1924.

The dresses in the contemporary photographs are mostly covered by the aprons, or else have their details disappear in the grayscale. I wanted a pattern with the classic 1920s silhouette, and from the photograph we see that the maids' dresses had high necks, long sleeves, and hemlines near the lower-calf.

The pattern illustration.

I ended up using the "girls dress" from the 1928 Haslan Dresscutting Book No. 5 as the basis for this project. It had the right kind of sleeve, and I liked how the pleated insets in the skirt allow for ease of motion while preserving the smooth line of the front. By changing the self-fabric collar to a detachable white collar, I was able to make it closer to the reference: I thought this dress's collar shape looked a lot like the one worn by Nellie Davidson (front row, third from right) in the photograph above. I also changed the front buttons to hooks-and-eyes, omitted the belt, lengthened the skirt, and drafted a simple trapezoidal white cuff to baste onto the sleeves' self-fabric cuffs. While I drafted the dress, my colleague made the frill and apron (we split the dress construction).

Again, a dress I can't light.

Wool Crepe Dress, 1934

I'm finally catching up with documenting all the sewing projects from this month. Most of them were for a multi-era living history event about women in the railroad, so it was an exciting opportunity to branch out of my usual time periods.

First up: a 1930s dress for alleged train robber Laura Bullion. The only reference photos I could find for her were from 1901 (at the time of her arrest) or earlier, but as we needed an older impression looking back on her life, we decided to place the interpreter in the 1930s, when Laura was working as a seamstress and hiding her youthful affiliation with Butch Cassidy's Wild Bunch. 

Including the pattern illustration because
the photographs really don't show the seam lines.

I chose this simple "tennis frock" from the 1934 Haslan Spring Supplement No. 4. This was my first attempt to use that drafting system for someone other than myself. I ended up needing to enlarge the sleeves (as usual), and somehow between the muslin and final fabric the bodice gained 4" around, but overall I found it much more positive experience than trying to customize a standard-size pattern.

The whole garment is made of brown wool crepe, which I think worked very well for this dress. The fabric drapes very nicely along the figure, if not on my poor dress form. I had originally intended to use a side zipper for closer fit, but found that the fabric stretches enough to fit closely without any fasteners. The one drawback was that the fabric rolled and flopped too much to construct the neck bow (even top-stitching around the edges of each tie couldn't stabilize it enough). Also the color, unfortunately, doesn't photograph well in any of the lighting I could contrive.

 

This is the best photograph I could manage.

Original: Wedding Dress, 1951

 Later than I usually go, but I really like the lines of this 1951 wedding dress in the Victoria & Albert Museum:

Wedding Dress by Norman Hartwell, 1951. VAM

Purple and green Stockings

Finished a second pair of over-the-knee stockings on my Autoknitter. Like the first, these have a hung hem and short-row heel. I used Knit Picks' palette fingering-weight wool, primarily majestic purple, with grass green for the toes and heels.

 Sized for friend Q, the recipe on these was 20 row hung hem at 4L1, 60 rows same, 30 rows 1L2, 30 rows 4L2, 30 rows 1L3, heel at the same, 59 rows same, toe. The heel shape is appropriate to the 1920s instructions with my machine, but is not a possible construction method for csms used in the late 1850s (though the machines did exist--they couldn't reverse direction, and instead used hand-sewing to finish the heel and toe).

Bicycling Skirt, 1950s

 A quick project from one of the 1950s Haslan books: a bicycling skirt. I made it up in mid-weight linen, so it photographs horrible, but is really comfortable to wear in the current heat-wave.

Bicycling Skirt, 30 seconds after ironing

Even with felling the seams (necessary to keep the linen from unravelling in the wash), this pattern made up quickly: two hours from cut pieces to finished garment. It's basically a four-piece, shaped-seam, mid-calf-length skirt with each piece extended at the center front/back. This pattern was a bonus at the end of the book, so there was no garment illustration, just the draft with instructions to take a large pleat the center front and back. 

 

My construction process began with joining up the left front/back pieces into one left "leg" and the right front/back pieces into another, then hemming each leg, sewing the two together at the fork (basically making a pair of giant shorts) and then fitting it into a waistband using a large inverted box-pleat at the center front and center back. This puts all the extra fabric in the center and provides lots of ease for movement. With no fastening information, I put a zipper in the right side-seam with a hook/bar at the waistband. 

I am mostly happy with the result: it's comfortable to wear, and easy to take on and off. In appearance, the skirt is adequate: neither sloppy nor super flattering. I used a new zipper-insertion method Jessica showed me, to good effect--you baste the seam, sew the zipper to each seam allowance, and cut the basting--it goes in quickly, and makes a functional fastener, albeit a visible one. The waistband is self fabric, folded in half. The instructions had it assembled in four slightly sloped pieces, but also called for folding it down, would have made a mess of the sloped pieces. I instead used a rectangular band with straight sides. I think a shaped waistband (two separate layers) could make a lovely variation in the future.

Next time (and there will be many more), I will put a pocket in the side seam opposite the zipper. Honestly, I'll probably add one to this skirt within a week. I'll also skip the small pleats I added to the waist at the skirt's side seams, as the fullness is generous enough through the hips without it, and it only makes the lines look awkward. Until I actually get good at zippers, I probably won't be making any of these split skirts for smart ensembles, but I do intend to make another one or two for practical summer daywear. This skirt is much more comfortable than jeans or even shorts for walking, gardening, pitching tents, and other summery activities. The split skirt has most of the benefits of a skirt (flowy, draping, loose fit) and of shorts (protection from chafing and accidental exposure). Each leg is very generously cut, so it might be possible to have problems with the skirt flying up, but it would take some pretty extreme gymnastics to make that an issue.

Original: Shirtwaist & Skirt, c.1902-4

Shirtwaist and matching skirt, 1902-4, from LACMA.

 

Knit Wristlets

 Not really a historic design (though I've seen other wristlets in 19th century knitting books), but I'm pretty excited about these wristlets. 

They're brown wool (the yarn was somewhere between a fingering weight and sportweight), but the part I'm excited about is what I made them with: a c. 1920s Autoknitter circular sock machine.

 

I've mostly just been knitting tubes of scrap yarn (and a few flat webs), but the wristlet project allowed me to practice several important sock elements, such as hanging the hem and not dropping stitches.

Original: Black Gown With Beadwork (1922)

 Happy New Year!

Woman's Dress (1922) by Lucille, Lady Duff Gordon. At LACMA. 

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.

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.