Plain Coif and Forehead Cloth

 

Plain coif and forehead cloth.

More faire-related wardrobe additions. Having decked one coif and forehead cloth in lace and (begun) embroidering the other, I found myself without any fitted headgear appropriate to my lowly social station. That is, it's too hot to wear a respectable late Elizabethan ensemble, so I need a plain coif  to go with my kirtle/smock/apron combo. I could just tie a rail over my hair...but coifs are more fun.

I used a light-weight white linen for both, with bleached 1/4" linen ties on the forehead cloth and a linen cord for the coif.

Boemio Cloak, c.1580-1640

With most of my early modern events at the hottest time of the year, I've so far avoided making any garment heavier than a wool waistcoat or two. But, after several rainy musters and a chilly faire in early May, I've concluded that some warmer garments are advisable.

I decided to try the Modern Maker's drafting methods this time. For a versatile, wearable garment, I chose the Bohemio: a short, full cloak with standing collar and contrasting lining. It was also one of the few cloak patterns in the book explicitly described as being worn by women.

 

One very full cloak.

 

The personal measuring tapes were a bit time-consuming to make, but fun in their own way. They definitely made the drafting process go smoothly, as each point was simple a matter of measuring to the designated symbol (and sometimes adding/subtracting like Roman numerals). At least on this loose garment, I didn't have to do any alterations after drafting--the cloak is a comfortable length and perfectly fitted at the shoulders and neck.

 

Custom measuring tapes...in abbreviated Spanish.

I wanted a proper piece of outerwear, so I chose a heavily fulled wool broadcloth for the exterior. My regular suppliers were out of the really interesting shades and I had my heart set on Lincoln green, so I opted for an emerald green melton wool from the Dorr Mill Store. For the lining, I selected a bright "weld" yellow mid-weight linen from Fabric-store.com.

 

 

A full circle & then some.

I consulted Patterns of Fashion IV for information about extent short cloaks, and while it mentions green wool among the known cloak materials, and both dyed linen and yellow linings, I do not have any specific evidence for the combination of a green wool exterior with a yellow linen lining (much less one of this particular style). That being said, the material and colors are at least plausible and I like the them together, especially with the contrasting front panel.

I got it into my head that I wanted to sew the whole cloak by hand, which wasn't as bad as it might seem. The main body was four parts (two backs, two fronts), with a two-piece collar. All of those pieces were also lined. I used a double row of running stitches to join the seams, based on an original 18th century cloak that I may have started copying just before this project. Neither book had detailed instructions for lining the garment, so I ended up using the Tudor Tailor's method of sewing the lining separately, turning the raw edges and then slip-stitching the two layers together along the top and sides. The collar (two wool layers) was made up separately and attached to the wool cloak, with its raw edges hidden under the linen lining. The fulled wool was heavy enough that I had to miter the corners to get them laying neatly. Following Quin's advice, I hemmed the two layers separately-- or rather, I hemmed the linen, and left the wool with a raw cut edge, which is a perk of broadcloth. This saved me approximately 3 lifetimes worth of pressing heavy wool, and was definitely the right decision.

 

I get the tiniest stitches working on linen.

Double row of running stitches in black silk.

The Modern Maker instructions do not mention or show any fastener on this cloak. I thought to add one, but have been pleasantly surprised by how much it is not needed. The fabric is well-balanced front and back, so that the cloak stays on whether I'm walking or standing still (with the revers turned back or not). I haven't tried running or anything, but it doesn't have the tendency of my more modern cloaks to slither off at the slightest movement. It also weighs a ton, so I'm glad it's hanging from the shoulders and not a clasp at the throat.

Preparing for Faire

It's been a few years since I attended this particular event, so a refresher on Early Modern everything seems in order. The object to get back into that 1570s mindset ASAP, so I pulled out some of the more accessible secondary/tertiary sources for a quick skim. Mostly, I want to review all the minutiae of early modern daily life that lies outside my main research interests. And make sure that I have all the coin denominations in order before trying to play picquet.

 

Reading List

In no particular order:

• A Compendium of Common Knowledge (Elizabethan, not pictured because it's a web resource) Bit-sized summaries of just about every topic under the sun: vocabulary, religion, servants' pay, where to shop in London...
  

• Easy Street (Interpretation) How To Engage With Audiences: The Book.
  

• The Time-Travellers' Guide to Elizabethan England (Elizabethan) Various topics, especially for someone traveling through England in the 16th century. Useful table of coin values.
  

• How to Be a Tudor (early 16th century, not pictured) For refreshing on the details of daily routines.

• Black Tudors (16th century) Life stories of specific individuals through the 16th century.

• How to Behave Badly in Elizabethan England (Elizabethan) The opposite of charm school.

• The Domestic Revolution (16th-20th century) Less niche than it appears--fuel use has major implications for trade, vernacular architecture, housekeeping, cooking methods, and even land use. Not all early modern, but the first half is relevant.
  

• Women in Warfare (16th-18th century) Very useful for my specific impression as a camp follower. Definitely the most dense of these sources, but included for extreme relevance.
  

• Description of England (1587) Actually a primary source, but it's really useful for language as well as weird details. Not so quick a read, but worth skimming as time permits.

Original: Doublet and Breeches, 16/17th-19th Century

 In an early modern mood, and selected this month's original garment for that reason. LACMA has this marked as "late 19th century construction, 16th-17th century textile" without further elaboration--I suspect they mean that it was made or altered for fancy dress or theatrical use in the late 19th century from extant 16th/17th century garment.

 

 

Red velvet doublet and breeches, courtesy LACMA.

Whatever it's particular origins, I do like the points. And the paned trunkhose. And the wings. And the buttons. It's a fun garment.

Fingerloop Braid Color Variations

Two fingerloop braids, with bonus whetstone and shears.

Getting ready for Faire, and realized I never posted these fingerloop braids from my last 16th century event. They're braids #4 & #6 ("A Lace Baston", "An Endented Lace") from Tak V Bowes Departed. Both have the same braiding patterns as #2 "A Round Lace of Five Loops", which I previously used as purse strings. I've technically made #6 before (the endented braid for a drawstring on the sweetbag project), but revisiting it in conjunction with the others really helped me internalize how the color patterns work.

Close up on the patterns: stripes and chevrons.

All three of these are the same braiding pattern. Number #2 (the black purse string) just uses 5 loops of the same material, giving a plain round cord. Number #6 (above, tied on the whetstone) uses two loops of one color and three of the other, each starting on separate hands, so the colors alternate and change place as you work; this produces the chevron design. Number #4 also uses five identical bicolor 'loops' made by tying a thread of one color to a thread of the other: this produces the vertical lines down the cord IF you keep the loops aligned.

It's probably obvious to everyone else, but I found this this experiment very helpful for improving my understanding of how the braiding really works. The patterns were also nice training tools for keeping tracking of your loops (chevron) and picking up the right side of the loop (stripe). The solid color looks more forgiving, but makes it harder to tell where errors occurred. I'd honestly recommend that anyone starting on fingerloop braiding try all three of these variant braids together as an exercise.

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.

HFF 5.26: Reflection

The Challenge: Reflection. Give yourself a second chance at any previous challenge or at a dish you've made before. Fix something that went wrong, or try a new variation of an old favorite.

The Recipe: I decided to revisit my most troublesome receipt from this season: "A Light Cake to Bake in Cups" from the heartfelt challenge.

After consulting with noted bread expert Quinn, I decided to increase the liquid in this recipe (ie, interpret 1 wineglass as more than 1.5 oz, which is an option, since it seems to mean between 0.5 and 4oz depending on the receipt). She also observed that the ingredient list has some similarities to rum baba, and advised borrowing techniques from such a recipe.

The Date/Year and Region: 1852, New York

How Did You Make It: I once again started by waking up the yeast, this time using 2 Tbsp of yeast in 4 oz of warm water (double the yeast of the previous attempt). After about 10 minutes I added 2oz of white wine and 4 oz of butter (melted). I then mixed together the 4 oz granulated sugar, 1 lb flour, and a generous 1/4 tsp nutmeg, and kneaded that into the liquids. It worked into a smooth dough in a matter of minutes, and I then let it rise in a 100F oven until doubled (not the 1 hour in the instructions, but closer to 4 hours). I then gently kneaded it again, filled three round tins with dough, mixed in a scant handful of currant into the remainder, and divided that between 2 oval tins. These went back into the oven to rise for 1 hour (I meant 15 min but forgot to retrieve them), then baked for 25 min at 325F.

Total Time: About 6 hours including rising and baking time.

Total Cost: I had everything on hand.

How Successful Was It?: Distinct improvement over last time. Still not quite what I'd call 'light', but certainly lighter than last time. The flavor worked out well (currants, wine, and nutmeg, in that order). Even cooking much lower than the modern recipe recommended (I don't want to risk my tins), the tops on these browned in less than 10 minutes, so I ended up watching them very carefully for the rest of the time.

How Accurate Is It? The technique remains conjectural, but at least this one was more of an educated guess. As before, I used active dry yeast in water to substitute for the fresh yeast. I took 1 wineglass for 2 oz, which seems to have worked much better for the liquid balance. I did opt for the round and oval tins this time, since the original recipe called for "cups" rather than "queencake tins" in all their fun glory. Used pre-ground nutmeg because I still can't source whole ones, and Barefoot "buttery chardonnay" for the wine, since that's what I had on hand.

Lighter this time. Also in 'cups' after a fashion.