The Revenge of the Regency Spencer

What a week!


artwork from the Castle Museum spencer

Lots to do and lots done but feeling fairly hamster-in-a-wheel-ish. Effort does not equal forward progress, I guess that is February for you. My art classes  were a welcome relief, a couple of hours focused and doing,  good company and a cup of tea!
The spencer started  many months ago has come back to bite me. Trying to refit it to me  has been a menace. 
This is from a commercially available pattern but seems aimed at the pre-pubescent stick insect  kind of figure - I have known far too many cakes over too long a time  to fit this silhouette. I often have to recut bodice pieces but this was truly extreme. Even as fitted as the pattern allowed it gaped hugely and unevenly. If I had a drawing board big enough I would have gone back to it, but I wanted to use the armhole shape and positioning. 



Early toile fitting. What a mess!

So major surgery required to do an FBA, made more difficult by the lack of an underarm side seam, so no side dart, just the vertical bodice front ones. This of course put the angle to the shoulder out and squashed the armhole shape even more.  Imagine suitable amounts of wailing and gnashing of teeth, pins about three deep in the carpet and a permanent quest to find the scissors (behind the kettle, under the sofa, bathroom). The chosen fabric is bright red cord,  not terribly period, but it has been quite friendly to work with, I like the soft touch  and it isn't even thinking about stretching or distorting as I work.  The bodice is just about bearable- not exactly as  wanted or as precise, but fine as long I can be a blur of constant movement so nobody gets a good look. But the sleeves! Back to the joy.  Couldn't let them go as a plain puffy upper on a narrower lower sleeve. So reference to the early sleeve ideas I was trying out an age ago, mix it up with extant examples from the Met and ended up making these- broad straps threaded through slashed openings and caught up on the shoulder.

6 metres of satin binding so far and still counting. It did take a long day's graft to make the slashes, bind them and then  add the straps. With all the fancy work  it needed lining which meant that the whole thing had to be - vile berry lining from the hated stash of repellent fabric came to the rescue. The sleeves are now in and sitting quite happily, the lining has been surface mounted  and tacked in place, it begins to feel like a garment!

Could this be the end of the trauma?   Hah.   Don't like the collar and front. The buttoned up to the chin effect with the high waist is not flattering in the slightest - elements of Lady Bracknell came to mind, and all in vivid red. The compromise at the moment is just  tacked in to test the idea - a soft Elvis look - collar standing up at the back, falling open at the neck  and closures up only 1/2 or 1/3 of the spencer front.  1970s but without the medallion. Not looking right yet but the answer is getting closer. Formal lapels  are one suggestion to try out, but that will have to be next week.


The suggestion for lapels came from an interview to do a theatre costume course  with The Northern College of Costume over this summer.  Have been offered a place which is very exciting - it is all practical,  historically based and  just think.....


a couple of my folio pages...

 

  in a few months I might actually know what I am doing. Already worrying about sticking pins into the vulnerable parts if unknown people and a whole big work room to put the scissors down in..... and there are several bakers really close by.....and there are very steep, steep stairs with a gym right at the top filled with toned, tanned torsos - rub it in why don't you. Should be fun.

And what did I do to celebrate - had a cake (very nice too) and got up early the next day to go out sketching in ploughed field (cold, fuelled by carrot, nice puddle).   Hah?





'regency' bib front dress

This bib front seems to have been a common style around 1800, the back  bodice is standard in construction but the front closure is in the form of a 'bib' that fastens to the under bodice with buttons or pins either side.  In the one I have created the top 1/4 of the skirt's side seams are left open with the bib attached to the top of the central panel. The skirt is held up with ties that go around the waist and tie in front inside the bib. Initially this seemed like a very awkward construction and lacked logic. Why have such insecure closures at the front where they are most likely to gape? I could never manage to keep shoe laces done up  or stockings in place so what hope would there be for something held together in this way?



extant from LACMA c1800

The general shapes again were taken from the excellent Janet Arnold and Nancy Bradbury but the fabric was from a dismantled charity shop skirt, a soft, fluid  cotton with an Indian inspired print of feathers on a black ground. This gave excellent drape but has no real conviction about holding shapes, its main focus seems to be sliding down into an artistic heap under its own weight. The images show some of the stages of construction -this may require some imagination as black with pattern against black with pattern doesn't really show detail very well.
 At first the dress looked just like a standard 1790ish open robe, high waisted bodice meeting in the centre front,  set back sleeves,  with the gathered skirt not meeting across the front.

the under bodice

Nancy Bradbury's Costume in Detail,
open robe.

The  bib dress  has an extra skirt panel to fill the central gap and a rectangular 'bib' extending up from this to the neckline. The top of the skirt seams  are left open to make the dress easier to put on and then either tied, pinned, hooked or buttoned closed at the waist.. Because this fabric is so soft I sewed the bib and skirt panel together onto black cotton tape which extended either side  and then made buttonholes to pass the ties through so they run under the back of the dress rather than on top (wanted to see the gather details at the cb!). In the last photo above the skirt is in place and the bib is hanging down in front. The extra weight of the completed  skirt is pulling the sides of the bodice down.  The bib is then pinned up in place to complete the dress. Of course nothing is allowed to be straightforward so instead of simple puff top narrow sleeves Juliet/Marie/Spanish or is it Marmaluke sleeves seemed like a good idea.

These are long sleeves with gathered puffed sections held by a series of tight bands down the arm. Good luck trying to see them in the flat sleeve above but they are there! These were great to start with but have sagged under their own weight so would benefit from stiffening to keep the puff, umm, puffed..

The finished garment does have a grace and charm, it has elegant long lines, mostly due to the fabric, even if it is constantly trying to morph into something else. It is trying to slide off the shoulder in most of the photos - perhaps Gwen needs arms if I am going to work with such a wide neckline- I did pin some sausages of wadding on as a proto arm solution but laughed so much they came off quite quickly. They flapped in the breeze, even more like a Pingu wanna-be than usual. I shall try again when I have recovered my composure.
As for the idea of the bib front - it does give a bundled up, mono-bosom look There are 3 or four layers of fabric across the bust not accounting for stays or chemise, of course at this time stays were lighter or not worn, so the extra support at the front may have been welcome. Another benefit is that the size is adaptable. It is like a wrap around skirt, as long as there is enough overlap to be decent all sizes and shapes could wear it. Perhaps also the bib could be changed  to suit different wearers  or vagaries of fashion without having to deconstruct the whole dress and extending its useful life.
 The major challenge has been the fabric, the soft drape has a price. The waist line has been taped for stability and the sleeve bands interfaced. The hem was also taped to give a little more weight to it. All curves had to be stay stitched and rather than turn in the seam allowances they are pinked to stop the fraying fest that was going on. It would have been better to flat line the bodice to give more support to the arm hole and shoulder but it is a little late for that decision now! The idea of working with two layers of bodice front was used a lot around the early 1800s for a variety of styles so I hope I've learnt my lesson, structure and stability first then drapeability. I had actually done this with the muslin Gwen-dress but had not expected this material to be so persuadable (dribbly?).   
 Oops.

More Doris Day than Grace kelly.....escape to the 40s/50s

As my facebook contacts know I went for a little detour into the 1950s. I have the sad and tattered remains of a vintage pattern for a ball gown and have always loved the illustration on the cover. The saucy eyes and pose are not the best reasons for making a dress, but.  I had a donated (thanks Althea) piece of rosebud cotton that was so period it crawled out of the cupboard and prostrated itself on the cutting table before I had the pattern pieces out of the packet. As usual I was  making a scale version - this time  measure in inches, switch  to cm and divide by 4, and at a ballerina length it just fitted onto the cloth.

compare J Arnold's 18thC to scale piece of the 50s

There should have been  bells sounding from the word go. With the clear guide to the pattern shapes and then laying the pieces out on the floor it should have been apparent that this was a close cousin in construction to some of the 18thC robes I've been making. Not my brightest moment - I hold having to crawl around under the table to get enough floorspace as my excuse. (don't know why it is sideways in the photo- it wasn't that bad!)  Construction was fairly straightforward - central pieces with inserted panels over the hips to give the skirt fullness and pleated at the seam lines, back opening, no sleeves. The muff I took as optional and declined to make it.
On the whole it went together well, there is a complex join at the shoulder which  was a pain at that this size - too many layers to join and too little room for seam allowances - the armholes are bound and the tops are not really meant to join directly, there is a fold on the bodice front that carries over the shoulder rather like the robings on a robe francaise,  and they attach under that.  This has ended up as a little solid lump on the point of the shoulder but at least it is holding the shape and the garment together.


18thC v 50s

 The back is also reminiscent of the last polonaise dress I made  -en ferreau- with long central sections, cut into at the waist line with the bottom section then being pleated and reattached to the top to form bodice and skirt. This one was done in 2 parts, the front or back bodice and middle panels of the skirt cut as one continuous piece,   the side skirt panel attaching under the bust dart with the skirt seam hidden in inverted pleats then attached to the bodice. This means that the long line form neck to hem is uninterrupted front and back with a short  seam over the hip.
Neat.
 The theory was fine, the sewing not quite so good. I did tight mini French seams which are stiffer than the fabric so the skirt seams stick out with greater determination rather than aesthetic awareness. Sometimes doing things right is wrong, and doing things less than best is better. Hope that makes sense. 

The over all effect is more tea dress than ball gown - cotton was always going to do that to it, but the style works well. I had to make up a little wadding figure with wide enough shoulders to model it on to get the full effect of the cut. The emphasis on the breadth of the shoulders compared to the torso and then balanced by the full skirt is very glamorous and for such a modest dress very flirtatious. I don't know if this  comes across in the photos but I tried to capture something of it in the illustrations. Loved painting the rosebuds! Shame about the faces. Really need some real people to model these dresses for me - don't know any this scale!

Some things remain the same no matter what era- Where are my diddy scissors?, I know I left my favourite needle stuck in the arm of that chair, where is it now?, and why after taking things out of a cupboard do they never fit back in?

painting the polonaise.

Unfortunately this has now been christened the Loo-Loo dress. Thank you Jenny - somethings are best shared very carefully. You can probably guess where she had used this fabric.  The paintings and illustrations for this have taken longer than initially planned. Glue dresses, inch paintings, 1950s ball gowns and even an extremely beautifully indecent  1770s dress have got in the way. These all turned out to be related so things seem pretty cyclic at the present but they will have wait  their turn for glory.
  This is the story of creating illustrations for the en ferreau/ polonaise robe made and documented earlier this month. These mini costumes have charm and personality but only come to life when on display (rare) so this is a way of recording them and giving them  a kind of context.

 For this one the process began with observation, isolating details and exploring approaches, sorting out colours ( yes, the dress is white but that doesn't mean the shadows are grey and it also reflects colours from its surroundings.) The back - the stitched seams and  pleats- was the most fun to do.  Different view points were tried and the dress was 'imagined' onto various figures trying to sort out which aspects of the dress I wanted to display. Various standing poses seemed to work but felt a little wooden so I  decided on a seated figure, stealing the face and pose from Raeburn's portrait. This lady has a clear gaze, straight at us, but the body is twisted away  which shows details of the dress  and makes for more interesting shadows. Unfortunately it isn't full length so more imagining and observation work was required. Poor Gwen was removed from her stand and used to pose the dress so that I had an idea of the bulk and shapes made the robe and petticoat.
The following images show the stages of building the picture. Firstly in light sketchy pencil and then in increasingly heavy layers of watercolour. This isn't the best paper,  it doesn't hold the water or colour well as I would wish and will buckle if soaked, so a gently gently approach was required.

Apologies for the different light levels but the layers and gradual adding of depth and detail such as pattern and shadows should be clear.  The background makes a great difference, as this became stronger the balance of the whole piece had to be adjusted. Yep, always plan and do the background first but it is not as exciting as doing the cloth. The final piece has its faults and could be pushed further but I quite like the softness and informality of the sketchiness. The central area is my favourite bit-  I wouldn't mind too much if a sneaky cropping fairy attacked and just left me with that.

 Of course the story couldn't be left at that - so a formal portrait based on Thomas  Lawrence's study of Queen Charlotte happened last night. Again seated but instead of trying to show the cotton's matt surface it has become more of a court dress with the sheen and sharper qualities of silk or satins. This is not truly a watercolour, the paint is heavier, more opaque, borrowing techniques from acrylics and gouache. The key benefit was that this was done in one sitting - okay a long sitting, but it was completed in one go! The difference is so emphatic, the first is a  shy, modest young lady caught in a private moment, this is a formidable  character, formal and authoritative.  

  These have been excellent to do- challenging and testing as well as in an odd way liberating. Rules are good, guidelines are better, making it up as you go may be dangerous but it is much more satisfying. Especially when it works.