Son of “Ugly Puffer”

The “completed” (read: wearable) Son of Ugly Puffer, Victorian quilted petticoat. There are some very beautiful historical quilted petticoats out there. This one will never be beautiful.

After deciding that I didn’t actually want to make 5 (6?) items for my not very historically accurate Dickens Fair costume, that I didn’t have acceptable yardage to spare for that flounce (or the desire to both hem and gather 7+ yards of fabric), I shifted to a Bumpad and Ugly Puffer, similar to what was made by American Duchess. But I didn’t have any pre-quilted fabric, as was suggested. I didn’t have any coupons for Beverly’s, wasn’t headed in the direction of JoAnn’s and ultimately couldn’t bring myself to buy the fabric online. Plus I wanted to get on with it already.

To the stash! What I already had were two huge pieces of batting and 10+ yards of raisin-colored cotton eyelet. I suddenly found myself going for a full quilted petticoat, which means no extra flounce on the tiered petticoat (yes!).

My entire plan was to sandwich those batting pieces between two pieces of fabric, quilt them just enough, stitch up the sides, hem, pleat the waist and do a split waistband. The size was dictated by the size of the batting being “long enough” and not “too much” to put in the waistband. That is to say, I didn’t really measure anything. Even the quilting lines are roughly measured / eyeballed (with moderate success).

Now, I’d never quilted anything at this point, so what was I getting myself into? In retrospect, I should have sucked it up and bought the pre-quilted fabric. I’m still quilting this damn thing.

Mistake 2, poly batting (mistake 1 was not buying pre-quilted fabric)

It took me all damn day to iron the fabric, cut things out, draw lines and quilt ONE SIDE. Oddly it took me 45 minutes to draw lines, pin and quilt the second side.

Here’s where the poly batting is really an issue. It’s too fluffed up / stiff. Particularly at the top. In the images below you can see that the lower two pics show fewer lines of quilting. The top set has more, allowing the shape to “break” vertically and more naturally. Ultimately, it really needs a ton more quilting, but at some point the quilting would stiffen the fabric… That means you want less quilting at the top, more in the bottom. Research on extant garments shows this is accurate. I think it would have been less of an issue with cotton batting, which is thinner and less stiff. With less quilting it would fall more gracefully at the top.

Only the waist is pinned right now. Top pics show quilting top to bottom every 3″. Bottom pics are from earlier, the top half is quilted in 6″ sections, the bottom at 3″.

I got as far as quilting the bottom, going around every 3″, then starting to go around at the 1 1/2″ points between. I can finish that after I do the hem and waist.

I hemmed the bottom by leveling things out and stitching on some good 1″ twill tape. It got folded up and stitched in place (I consider this a “free” line of quilting). I decided not to shape the hem for the added bumpad, meaning the hem will tilt up in the back. It will be hidden under my petticoat and skirt anyway and will be wearable without the bumpad for a different era (in that case the hem would fall level). Suddenly my Son of Ugly Puffer was looking almost wearable.

Yes, I used several random shades of purple thread. Don’t judge me.

The waist was pleated quickly and messily down to about 14″ per side and stitched to some wider twill tape. I folded it over and top stitched, creating a casing. I won’t be able to quit the top anymore, but I think it works out. Some grosgrain ribbon was threaded through the casing, one piece for the front and another for the back. This will allow me max adjustability and to access my pocket!

Pocket access!

Where are my feet? I’m going to feel huge!

Dressing Dummy. My goodness, there are a lot of ties going on.

Son of Ugly Puffer + Bum Pad = straining the top yoke of the petticoat (but pocket assess)

Project materials, all from the stash:

• 2 pieces poly quilt batting from (a donation), ~48″w x 35″h each
• 4-5 yards raisin colored cotton eyelet ($1/yard back in the day)
• ~96″ twill tape left over from another project (originally $0.25/y?)
• ~30″ wider twill tape from who knows where
• At least two full spools of thread, though I actually used about 4 different shades

Final cost = $0 (or maybe $11 originally)

Next posts:

• Who Wants to Wear a Fricking Bonnet?!
• One Fast Skirt (at least I hope so)

 

A Conspiracy of Pockets

I don’t know why there is this decades long conspiracy to not give women pockets or to give us tiny, non-functional, or purely decorative pockets. You know the ones. It’s the pants with fake pockets in front, or worse, the “real ones” that are only two inches deep. It’s the jacket that only has pocket flaps. Or the expensive slacks with the well made pocket welts that appear to be stitched shut, but, when opened, don’t go anywhere. This has been going on for ages. I recently acquired a Victorian jacket that has a mysterious slit in one of the front seams. On the inside you can tell that it’s intentional. Turns out it’s for a pocket watch. It’s not a watch pocket, but a watch slit. Weird.

We are constantly told women didn’t have pockets historically. None in Victorian times (pocket watch slit not withstanding). None in the Elizabethan era. No colonial female pockets. But that just isn’t so. There are many examples in extant garments, paterns and paintings, showing conclusively that Women. Had. Pockets.

My theory is that, as various parts of our figures were being hidden in volumes of fabric, so were our pockets. If you can’t see them, clearly we must not have needed, wanted, or used them, right? And of course, what high class woman woman of leisure would need to do something so vulgar as to carry something herself. I also suspect that many women’s skirts and dresses, work-a-day ones that would have been worn out or remade, didn’t survive as often as the fashionable gowns that didn’t strictly need pockets. There are plenty of examples of women’s historical pockets out there, should you care to look. Check out this article on making your own at the V&A and one version of the sexist history of pockets via Medium.

For my Dickens Fair costume I decided to make a quilted, tie on, pocket. I did so because, 1. I don’t want to buy an appropriate bag, which were in vogue at that time, 2. I don’t want to make a appropriate bag, and 3. I don’t want to carry anything. I happen to think every garment should have a plethora of pockets. I chose to make an 18c size and shape quilted pocket because it’s pretty big (16″ x 10″) and I wanted to try out free-motion quilting (I’d never quilted a damn thing until the day before – I’ll get to why I tried it in a later post).

Some ex-sheets are not too bad a fabric choice for Victorian. The bias tape was removed from the bolero I plan to wear. I used all but maybe 6″ of it. Hooray for upcycling.

Huh, my fabric is sort of a combo of the middle top and left second row… I believe this image comes from Vintage Dancer.

My random quilting is ok if you don’t look at the various stitch lengths. There was no plan to the pattern and I basically went as fast as I could without breaking threads. I did learn that free quilting works best on my Kenny with the feed dogs up.

The finished pocket! I took my time and put the binding on correctly #notlazysewing

And there you have it. I have a historical pocket!. To use it, I’ll need pocket slits in my skirt and petticoats.

Dummy wearing a black dress to cover the fact that she’s disintegrating, my Laughing Moon pattern late Victorian waist cincher in silk and coutil, a bumpad and the pocket.

Next time: Son of Ugly Puffer

 

Your Bum Needs a Bumpad

(The 18/19c Bumpad)

While planning for my quick and dirty Dickens costume, I piled “petticoats” onto my dummy, attempting to achieve some sort of vague fullness. I quickly realized that my sadly narrow skirts just weren’t going to cut it. I also couldn’t find my oddly stiff 360++ degree original faire skirt that I was considering starching into service. I tried cheating by adding a mid-length 50s tulle underskirt. That did add some volume, except the shape deflated from waist to hip and below the knee. Clearly I needed more volume! And in the right shape. This was an era of maximum fullness in skirts. I’m not portraying an upper class lady, but I reason that even most working women would aspire toward fashionable fullness when they go out on the town, to High Tea and whatnot.

Two petticoats, cheater tulle and a faire skirt standing in for the yet-to-be-made top skirt. What sad shape with fullness only in the middle third.

I researched the easiest way to get volume under my 1860 skirt and came across the American Duchess post about her unconventional underpinnings. I too find myself a bit lazy when it comes to underpinnings, impatient if you will. Her comments about always using a Bumpad and the “Ugly Puffer” seemed like an excellent place to start. I thought I’d make the bumpad, use the tulle, and add a 14″ flounce to the bottom of a tiered petticoat, for extra fullness (meaning I needed about 7y x 15″). The Ugly Puffer wouldn’t be necessary, surely?

I first tackled the Bumpad. Using the three section idea from American Duchess and the shape of one on the Laughing Moon #112 Bustles and Hoops pattern, but making it like 8 sizes bigger, I got to work. My materials were a remnant of white dotted cotton, some grograin ribbon, stuffing and a zipper, all from my stash. I didn’t know how much to stuff the bumpad, so I decided the best plan was to make it changeable. Hence the zip.

Only being a two piece item, the Bumpad came together easily. I hadn’t done a zip in ages and managed to leave the top and bottom bits a little outside the seam. Meh. Only I’ll see (#lazysewing). Once stitched together and tried on, I made some stuffing adjustments, took the stuffing out, stitched the seams for the sections and restuffed it. Accomplishment! (Sometimes it’s the little things).

The waist could have been more curved. I hadn’t stitched the sections yet in this pic.

Dummy is now wearing my late Victorian waist cincher (Laughing Moon pattern) and the Bumpad. I don’t have a full corset and am not making one this go-round.

The more full petticoat, Bumpad and stand-in top skirt. Not bad, but a little butt-focused and deflated at the front and sides.

Under the petticoat it did make a big difference, but it was bustle-like and the petticoats still lacked the right fullness. The tulle was already out because it didn’t fit over the bumpad. I’d been hunting up enough fabric for that huge flounce and was unhappy with my options. Perhaps I could skip that extra flounce and make my own Ugly Puffer… By making one more thing I’d have one less thing to make??? What was I getting myself into?

Next time: Bonus pocket

Later: Son of Ugly Puffer!

 

Quilts for Science!

I love when something considered women’s arts (for lack of a better term) is used to subvert those stereotypes in an unexpected way. It’s even better when the woman in question did so well over a hundred years ago!

Sarah Baker’s Solar System quilt, 1876 (image from Wikipedia)

This quilt really caught my fancy – and it’s for science! A teacher, Sarah Baker, completed it in 1876 to use as an Astronomy teaching aid. And it’s beautiful! The level of hand work is really stunning. I’m not a huge fan of quilts generally as physical objects (through the stories that go with some of them can definitely sway me), but this one is stunning on its own visual merit with it’s starting black background and delicate contrasting hand stitching. It even depicts, most likely, Halley’s Comet, which was a huge topic of conversation when I was a kid in 1986 (maybe around the same age as Sarah’s students) and could be visible a second time in my life (next sighting should be 2061).

The quilt is rather large at 89″ x 106″ and is made of a wool top section with appliques, silk and wool embroidery threads, wool braid and cotton back. It took 7 years to complete!

You can read more about Sarah and the quilt on Wikipedia. The quilt is currently in the Smithsonian collection.

If you’re interested in historic quilts for science, Sarah’s was not an anomaly. Such quilts were entered into country and state fair completions and likely adorned other classroom walls. Thought perhaps not with quite as much style! There are also modern art/science quilts.