The Glory of Women (1652)

This is a trip.

Partlet, 16th Century

Black wool partlet, 16th century style.
Photographing matte black fabric is not my favorite.

This partlet is made of a single layer of black wool; it fastens with two pairs of ties under the arms and a single hook at center front. The ties are 1/4" linen from Burnley and Trowbridge, dyed with RIT as on my green apron (I'm always surprised when RIT gives me a good black, even though it's been consistently effective on linen; adding salt and heating it seems to work). It is entirely hand-sewn.

This partlet is inspired by one of the variations in The Tudor Tailor, but practically speaking, was traced off Elise's and then altered to fit me. I may have left the book at home that day...

Northwest History Conference

Our fair neighbors have a new conference for us Northwesterners: Manifest History.

It's in Hillsboro, OR, on October 18-19. Topics of daily life in the mid-19th century (not just dress) are on the agenda. And registration is open now.

Also, I'll be speaking at it. Do come!

July 4

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” 

--Emma Lazarus, "The New Colossus" (1883)

Wimple Wednesday: Early 18th Century Dutch Cap

Very similar to the (15th century, IIRC) open hood pattern in The Medieval Tailor's Manual, this early 18th century Dutch cap is cut in four pieces, joined with a center back seam and another running front-to-back along the top of the head.

Dutch linen cap c.1700-1725 in The Met.

The overall shape is of two squares with a short rounded bump at the center back; from the image, the peak is approximately 1/3 the total width of the cap, and 1/5 of its height.  The original cap has an opaque fabric for the top of each side, with what appears to be a sheer embroidered material for the lower half of each piece (eye level to chin). There is a narrow lace edging around both hems; it's possible that the neck-edge hem contains a drawstring casing (as many of the Patterns of Fashion original caps and coifs do), but the available images do no show evidence of this.

I made my copy in light-weight linen (cut as only two pieces), without any hypothetical drawstrings. I measured it to account for my hair twisted into a coil at the back of the head, but after doing so think that I should have planned for coronet braids, and made the cap shallower.

A simple linen cap, c.1700-1725.

HFF 3.13: Solstice

The Challenge: Solstice. Try an astronomical- or astrological-themed recipe.

The Recipe: Meteors, from The Italian Confectioner; or, Complete Economy of Desserts [backup: meringues from Beeton's Book of Household Management, London, 1861]

The Date/Year and Region: 1827, London (also in The Art of Confectionery from 1865)

How Did You Make It:  Boiled 1lb of granulated sugar in 3/4 cup water, while beating 3 egg whites to stiff peaks. I consulted with a modern guide to better understand the sugar-boiling stages, aiming for a 'blow', approximately 232F. The sugar boils though different stages, but I never got the diagnostic blow bubble. I ended up taking the sugar off when the thermometer got between 230F and 235F, then stirred in 1Tbsp of orange flower water (the 1865 receipt says to add coloring and flavoring at this point, though the 1827 receipt says nothing of flavors) and the beaten egg whites.

It didn't work.

Instead of a smooth, thick batter (liquid-ish confectionary substance?), the mixture stayed lumpy, with a transparent syrup layer below. Worse, it smelled strongly of egg.

As further mixing didn't improve matters, I went to plan B: make regular meringues. That is, do the same thing but with solid sugar rather than syrup.

I used Beeton's receipt (1/4 cup sugar per egg white, flavor as desired), and made small drops using folded parchment paper as a pastry bag. The meringues are definitely round, like various celestial bodies...

Time to Complete: About 50 minutes of boiling sugar; less than 10 minutes to prepare the meringues, before letting them dry in a cooling oven overnight.

Total Cost: All supplies were on hand.

How Successful Was It?: The meteors were not --like all my other attempts to boil sugar.  The meringues were perfectly fine: the orange flower flavor is delicate and palatable and for the rest they are sweet and crisp. I do prefer these with vanilla as the flavor (and will eat the whole pan in one evening), but the orangeflower makes a nice change and is very Victorian .

How Accurate Is It?: Cheated with the modern electric mixer, as usual. I have, in fact, tried beating egg whites by hand before, and rarely succeed in producing stiff peaks (sore wrists, however...).  I wish I had a wood-burning oven for making these, as it would be easier to get the right temperature.

Meteors: not a success.

Meringues share a vaguely round shape with numerous
celestial bodies like the sun, moon, and planets.

Original: Striped Cotton Dress, c. 1804-1814

Dress, American 1804-1814. From the Met.

It's nice to see a cotton print dress from this period.