ClothingUniforms

  Click Here for the pattern Howdy! Since we put our Patreon to sleep, we needed to find a new place to host the  #ADCapeCult 1910s Wrap Cape pattern . So it’s going to be here! I have to host this on Google Drive, which means you will likely get a pop-up when you click “download” warning you that this might be hooky. I assure you it’s not – it’s just Google looking out for us. Download, enjoy, and tag #ADCapeCult on Instagram!

  In  the first pos t on this project, I constructed the bodice front and back. Now it’s time for skirts – the fun part – and sleeves – the evil part. Skirts first. My fabric was blessedly 60 inches wide, so I used two panels with the seam down the center back. I went for the smallest pleats I could, though honestly I’ve never been able to achieve those really tiny 1/4 inch ones, and I actually don’t think I even had enough fabric in the skirt to do so. An attempt at really small pleats I don’t think I had enough fabric in my skirt, even at 120″, to do those 1/4″ pleats so I ended up at about 3/8″ to 1/2″. My favorite thing about Italian gowns is how messy they are in the waist. You just turn up the bodice bottom edge, slap it on over the skirt, and stitch it on. The secret is to then split the center back of the skirt under the point and fold it down. This makes the skirt lay nicely around the deep V. Turn up and baste the bodice waist edge and slap it on straight over the pleated ski

  Robe a la Francaise, 1770, LACMA M.2007.211 – beautiful and expensive printed cotton One of the top questions I get from budding 18th century costumers is “what fabric should I use?” Luckily, there is ample choice for the Georgian era, though not as much a today with all sorts of modern mixes and fibers, so the confusion is understandable. So in the eternal words of Captain Barbossa, let’s establish some “guidelines”… The Four 18th Century Fibers Linen Wool Cotton Silk These are all natural fibers and all there was for clothing before the 20th century (excluding leather and fur). Ready for the gigantic textile post? Let’s go! Linen – The most common fabric of the 18th century A linen shift, 3rd quarter of the 18th century, The Met, C.I.41.161.7 Linen was used for just about everything – underwear,  linings , caps, aprons, and other millinery, men’s and women’s clothing, you name it. It was cheap, readily available, and came in all sorts of weights. Unfortunately today linen is the co

  Lady Danbury’s pelisse in this scene is actually made of layers of organza! I’m not so bold. Mine is taffeta. Have you caught Bridgerton fever? I have! I absolutely adored the glimmering gowns, character-defining color palettes, and strong aesthetic voice of costume designer Ellen Mirojnick. And so, naturally, I’ve been inspired to create a Regency footwear collection for Fall 2021, and that means lifestyle photoshoots, yay! And lifestyle photoshoots mean sewing, yay! First up, Lady Danbury and her fabulous burgundy, wine, and purple wardrobe. She wears a couple pelisses and I’ve always loved these Regency garments. Whereas there are two sparkly non-HA evening gowns in the works, I wanted to go a little more accurate with the pelisse. Lady Danbury’s lavender pelisse, much more fabulous than my make, but very inspiring. I splurged on an intensely gorgeous burgundy  figured silk taffeta from Silk Baron . I’m using the  Black Snail 1815 Empire Spencer or Redingote #0319 . I got the PDF

  or the “I have no idea what I’m doing” wardrobe. Reader, I have become complacent. I am far too comfortable in the late 18th century, to the point where I get decidedly nervous and befuddled when venturing into a new time period. The latest excursion is into the mid-Regency period, about 1804-1814. It’s never been a period I’ve been super-attracted to, but with Bridgerton-mania in full swing, I would like to add some items to my mostly-non-existent Regency costume closet. Ackermann’s Repository, Evening Dress, March 1814.  These pieces shall be… A basic white cotton evening gown A contrasting evening over-bodice A redingote/pelisse A day dress A wrapper or short gown Millinery – a fluffy cap, ruffled chemisette, and fur tippet I am not completely devoid of some pieces already. I have both the long and short Regency corsets from  Redthreaded , a couple basic linen shifts, a suspender-style cotton petticoat, long gloves, a couple reticules,  a great bonnet ,  shoes  and boots, and  sto

  Anyone who has ventured down the Renaissance Rabbit Hole has at some point run into The Shoe Problem™. What the heck did the Tudors, Elizabethans, and Stuarts wear upon their feet? And where can you get shoes like that? One of the surviving examples of late 16th century shoes from the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. We don’t have a lot of surviving examples of late 16th century footwear simply because of the age, but what we do have are a lot of portraits showing off some pretty stellar shoes. In the time of Henry VIII, shoes were flat and fairly simple in shape with either round or very square “cow mouth” toes, the primary decoration coming from slashing and perforation. Around the 1580 and 90s, though, heeled shoes come into vogue. Charles I circa 1616, © National Portrait Gallery, London It’s a common misconception that Louis XIV introduced heeled shoes in the mid-17th century. In fact, both men and women had been wearing heeled shoes for a good 80 years already. Early on, these heeled