My husband is tough on his clothes. I can’t explain; I don’t know what he does. OK, I do know – he gets snagged by nails in attics, gouges himself on sheet metal and spends a lot of time crouching down. Being an electrician is particularly hard on one’s pants. He’s ripped the crotch on more pants than I care to count. That’s when he’s not ripping off a pocket, shredding the knees and hems, or just wearing out the butt. (That one I can’t explain).
This particular pair of pants got a poke hole near the zip (#1, below, which is post repair), which I hand darned speedily and sloppily. It’s got a little piece of interfacing or some such behind it. The good news is it seems to have held up for another dozen washes so far.
And then he ripped the crotch on the other side, from the zip down, sort of shredding the fabric there (#2, below). I almost tossed the pants, but the fabric looked so good otherwise that I decided to patch the inside and darn over the whole thing on my machine. (Dreams of a professional darning machine; drools in sleep).
Materials used:
ripped jeans
old jeans to harvest some fabric
various semi-matching threads – a dark and a medium blue, in this case (husband does not care what repairs look like)
sewing machine with a narrow foot, so I could get as close to the fly as possible and a wider toe foot for zigzag / overcasting
Method:
Cut the sacrificial denim big enough that it can be tacked on well over the damaged area. Don’t go too big. We don’t want to create too much bulk.
Overcast the patch edges to prevent fraying.
Prep the damaged pants. In this case, I decided not to trim any of the frayed area. The hole was about 1″ by 2 1/2″ and all the yarns one direction were in tact. If the hole had been worse, I might have cut out the damaged part.
Pin patch in place from the outside.
Usually I’ll zigzag the fabric on to avoid having a hard stitch line that can create weak spots in the future, but I was stitching over the bottom of the crotch seam edge, which is several thicknesses; I just straight stitched.
Drop your feed dogs and either zigzag all over the frayed area, straying into the “healthy” fabric a bit, or do the same with straight stitch back and forth (and back and forth, and back and forth…). Essentially, you’re creating new fabric.
I was a little afraid that the rip would travel up from it’s present location, all along the edge of the zip, so I stitched up there, about 2″ above the bottom curve of the fly, a fair amount.
The result is not beautiful or invisible, but also not terribly obvious. They’ve been worn and washed a couple times and are holding up so far. Actually, he didn’t notice which pair had the repair, so good job me.
two annoying holes in otherwise sturdy jeansrepaired! well, if not prettily
Buckram Experiment 2023 part 3 (TBD April/May 2024)
Gum Arabic and Hessian
My next step was to try both a stiffer fabric with bigger yarns and spaces between the yarns and a better stiffener. I cut a piece of Hessian (it’s burlap, but I bought it for an upholstery project and that’s what they call it) to size for my project and got to it.
I used a milk frother to mix up 6 tsp of Gum Arabic with 250ml of water. I would have used more, but that’s all my container would handle. It took maybe 30 minutes to get it all mixed in and for the resulting foam to subside.
Apply/squeegee/dry to damp/iron, repeat x4? x6? I don’t remember now. The result is stiffer than the Guar Gum, but not as much as I anticipated.
I’m not sure it looks stiffer than Guar Gum, but it feels that way.
Thoughts and Next Steps
While I do see the Gum Arabic as an improvement over the Guar, I’m not sold on it’s permanence when you factor in all the sweating I will do in this costume. Am I willing to risk all my work ending up in a limp and puckered finished garment? Nope.
Options:
buy some actual buckram (grumbles over price and availability)
try hide glue (still ewww, also there many of different types…)
try something synthetic (ah, research time!)
While I’m all for period authenticity, we do make many compromises and that’s okay. I don’t have the time or patience to sew everything by hand or to try to weave and dye my own fabric. My compromises may look different than yours. I’m moving on to a synthetic stiffener.
I started researching what stiffener is used in buckram now (it’s a PVA glue). I’ve found one at a bookbinding supply site that I’m pretty excited about. I do need to wait to buy it until there are no more freezes. Apparently, if it freezes during shipping, it’s useless.
My costume time is getting tight and I’d like to get on with it already! But for now, I’m hoping to buy the glue mid-April. “The Buckram Experiment 2023 part 3” post will follow.
Updates on other projects
I have a kirtle bodice mock up, as well as one for the partlet. I’m going more historical (lower middle class) and realized that the most appropriate similar costume is the same structure (not detail) as Trossfrau. With that in mind, the partlet will be a gollar.
the mini pavilion has a new structure (a bare popup), but the canvas from last year should still work. Waiting for the weather to clear up.
The graphic for the tabard has been redrawn to work as a stencil.
The guild pavilion has been re-planned and I’m waiting for some measurements so I can buy supplies.
It’s been a few years since I last posted, which, you might notice, roughly coincides with the recent COVID pandemic. During that time I was completely burned out on costume. About the only things I’ve sewn since late 2019 have been mending projects. I needed an escape, but instead pretty much spent my days going to work, as usual, avoiding the presence of my coworkers at the same time, and doom scrolling! Such was the life of many an essential industry worker.
Some people took their enforced confinement time to work on costumes, but I started to hate them (costumes, that is). I didn’t see a point for myself. That said, I did still enjoy watching what others were doing and now can better appreciate all the time and enthusiasm they poured into their projects.
This year I’ve had the great fortune to spend time with my renaissance guild, both in and outside of faire. Somehow I seem to have gotten my costume mojo back. I’ve been researching for a couple different, related, projects. I also completed a nominally period-ish looking tent coverup for one of those screen houses (and repairs to the screen house itself). Now that I know the structure can take the canvas weight, I plan to redo it in a way that will make set up and tear down easier, not to mention make looking a bit more period. But more on that later.
This year, I’ve tentative plans for:
the above mentioned mini pavilion revamp
a revamp of our main guild pavilion – it’s shrunk and my method of attaching the walls and roof, while secure, make it tedious to put up
two Elizabethan tall hats
detailed instructions for someone else to make an Elizabethan tall hat (done)
a new lower to lower-middle class costume for myself, likely including: a supportive kirtle, gown, partlet, new smock. I do have a good smock and existing sleeves, so those may or may not happen
helping a couple other people with their new kirtles/gowns
helping some guildies with other costume upgrades
a tabard for our new guild herald, possibly a couple more
possibly a new Dickens costume??? I don’t know
finishing a long running, oft put down, crochet project and, as a reward, starting probably one of the most ambitious crochet projects I’ve ever considered. Which will undoubtedly take me years, the way I tend to get distracted…
I think I’m back for Halloween too and my current plans involve at least one big prop build
Now to the meat of this post!
As I was helping a friend source materials for making an Elizabethan tall hat, I discovered that buckram is even harder to come by than it used to be. There is one source that makes their own period stuff and they mentioned that it can be made with hide glue (eww, but maybe). Additionally, it can be made with tragacanth or xanthan gum, the latter of which was actually discovered in the 1960s, but really, I don’t care. I also have it on hand, so…
EXPERIMENT TIME!
Goal: To make my own buckram, essentially on demand
My Theory: That either the roughest weave or the double fill will be the stiffest, given the same application of gel to all fabrics.
Items Needed: hot water, xantham gum powder, a measuring spoon, measuring cup, mixing container with lid, natural bristle brush, cutting board or other surface that won’t transfer color to fabric and fabric samples. Fabric note: a rougher weave is suggested.
Fabrics I Used:
a fairly heavy mystery “linen” donation fabric that is a double fill, in a natural color. I’m guessing it’s in the 6.5oz range
a dark blue linen at 5.3 oz
a dark rust color linen that is likely 7.3 oz and seems a little rougher weave
a dark brown linen that is 7.1 oz
a no. 12 cotton duck (11.5oz fabric with a double fill) in natural
an 8oz cotton painter’s drop cloth
Prep:
Cut two samples of each fabric, one to test and one as a control. Originally I was only going to use only the first four, but added the others on the second day.
Mix together a half teaspoon xanthan gum with a half cup of hot water. Mix like crazy to avoid lumps, or be lazy like me and use one of those little hand held milk frothers. Incidentally, the instructions said to use a cup of hot water. Not sure why I used a half cup. I don’t expect leftovers to last in the fridge for more than a couple days since I used tap water, which contains living organisms.
General Procedure:
left to right: the blue, rust and brown fabrics
On a waterproof surface (the cutting board, in this case), apply the mix with your brush to one side, working it into the weave with the bristles.
Once dry, repeat process on the second side.
Repeat to make stiffer.
What I did:
After my initial application [to only the first 4 listed fabrics] I put my samples out in the late afternoon sun to dry. After an hour they were all dry. They were probably dry sooner but I didn’t check earlier since I had a cat on my lap. Interestingly, the double fill fabric curled up a bit at the edges. The others all stayed flat. Each of the fabrics definitely had increased stiffness. I applied a coat to the second side only, again working in a bit. I do you feel like I used a little bit more gel this time. I put them back outside to dry.
An hour later the fabrics weren’t quite dry. I could still see some moisture in the middle areas, particularly on the one that seems the thinnest (the blue), but it was stuck down to the plastic cutting board pretty thoroughly. When I lay them out during the initial round, I had pulled them off the cutting board so they weren’t completely stuck but, as I said, I think I used more a mixture on them in application two.
After another hour they were dry. They were stiffer, but not anything like the commercial heavy buckram I have. That has a loser weave with thicker yarns. I decided to continue the project to the next day because it was getting later and cooler.
The next morning, I applied a gloppy layer to the samples and, once again, tried to work it into the fabric with the brush bristles. Additionally, I got the two samples of cotton canvas. I dipped both of those so both sides were completely coated and worked the mixture into the fibers with my fingers, then wiped off the excess. They all went out into the morning sun to dry.
Side note. The reason you don’t just dunk the fabric in the gel squeeze out the excess is because you risk wrinkling the fabric. I can see it working if you use a squeegee to remove the excess instead.
An hour later, the original brushed samples were dry. I brushed a coat on to second side. The dunked samples were still damp.
An hour later, the original samples were dry and complete for this test. Of the two cotton samples, the heavier double fill was dry, but the lighter weight looser weave was slightly damp. I coated the first side of both of them for a second time with the brush.
Another hour later, and the two cotton samples were dry. It was warmer today, probably about 75°, and there was a little wind. I coated the other side of the two cotton samples one last time.
An hour later, all my samples were dry. The double fill had continued to curl a bit. I’m now questioning if it’s linen or not. It was a donation. A burn test will at least ensure it’s natural fibers. [Not done yet].
Evaluation
I’ve taken photos of the before and after, holding each of them on their edges or points in a way so you can see how much or little they drape, for both the untreated and test pieces. I’m also holding them so you can see how much light passes through the weave of the stiffened version.
double fill donation “linen”blue 5.3 ozrust 7.3 ozbrown 7.1 ozno, 12 cotton duck8 oz painter’s drop cloth
Don’t be fooled by the drop cloth. My angle is different; it’s actually drooping.
The duck is a big question really, it’s already stiffer because it’s a tight double fill. I’ve used it as an interlining before, but also made a pavilion out of it. Treated it feels rather soft. I wonder if that means it could handle more stiffening gel?
The one that feels the sturdiest to me is the rust, I believe 7.3 oz. It is a rougher weave or at least the roughest I have. I’ve also compared it to the commercial heavy buckram I have and you can see that there’s a great difference. You can see whatever it’s stiffener is in the weave gaps. I don’t know what the commercial stuff is stiffened with, but the substrate should be cotton.
Holding both by the point the brown is only bending a littleThere really is a huge difference in the weave
The blue, which is a tad see through, is also rather stiff. It could have some uses.
The overall difference in stiffness appears to have more to do with the structure of the weave, then the thickness of the yarns, than it does the given ounces or perceived weight of the samples.
Next Steps
I would like to get something with a looser weave with a heavier yarn size and try this again. I can definitely see the potential use in making my own buckram. I know of one source that carries a loose “open” weave linen, though it’s only 5 oz, so the yarns are smaller than the commercial heavy buckram. I would also consider trying hide glue.
The big question currently is: is any of what I made acceptable for stiffening my Elizabethan kirtle? If I’m going by the standards of modern heavy buckram the answer is no. But is that the appropriate standard?
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Edit the next day: Additional Thoughts
I’ve got at least one other substrate idea to try out. And then there’s the stiffener. I said, “why not?” when I realized I had xanthan gum on hand, but now I have some specific negatives to research. Here is a quote from Reddit user “Reep1611” from this thread (bold added for emphasis):
“…Xanthan while also being a polysaccharide acts different [than tragacanth or arabic gums]. Where Gum Tragacanth and Arabic when dissolved in water thicken it to a moderate degree and create a quiet sticky liquid with a not too small amount of them being dissolved, Xanthan is an extremely effective thickening agent. That means there is a lot less dissolved into the water, and such a lot less of it in the buckram. It also is not too sticky. That means that it’s capability to stiffen is a lot lower. Add in that it tends to dry somewhat powedery and brittle and the buckram is softer, needs more treatments, has somewhat different properties and a tendency to loose it’s stiffness when worn and put under stress. And because Xanthan dissolves into a gloopy mass, and not like a thin syrup, it also has a much harder time penetrating the weave and in between the fibres. Which also makes it more fragile. Then we come to another point. Both Gum Tragacanth and Arabic have strong antibacterial and fungal properties. Even if it’s a bit more moist, they don’t really do anything. But Xanthan, due to being extremely hydrophilic, loves to suck moisture from the air. The trouble is that it is a pure polysaccharide, basically a long complex sugar with none of the additional substances in the natural gums. So there is nothing stopping bacteria and fungi from eating it. I actually had mould grow on some of my Xanthan buckram after a particularly moist and rainy week.“
So…. experiment TBC… Runs off to do more research and find Gum Arabic.
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
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.
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?
In the last year, year and a half, I’ve done basically no sewing except fixing a button, then fixing several the buttons on the Lord Mayor’s doublet, then adding more tacking to the slashes on his sleeves and doing little stag thorn stitches over that.
And then people got serious about Dickens Fair. We’re going for a weekend and we’ll be paying, so we can wear what we like, instead of 1840-60-ish. I’d like to make a Gothic period 1840s dress, but what if I never go again? On the other hand, I don’t want to wear a steampunk costume (as much as I’d enjoy pulling that one out again). My compromise is to be 1860-ish in a blouse and bolero I have, a hat I’ll alter from a blank and a skirt I’ll make. Hat and skirt. Simple, right?
Thus began the trip down the rabbit hole, researching, planning, generally going off on tangents and changing the plan. I researched:
How not to have to wear a hoopskirt
1840s Gothic
How wrong are the sleeves on my bolero and do I care?
How to fix the heels on my expensive Victorian boots because apparently no one will do it locally and I can’t find replacement heels anywhere on the interwebs
Construction of fan bodices
Bust padding (because apparently everyone had to pad the space near the arm hole in 1830s bodies)
How to make corded petticoats
Sewn in padding in the bums of early Victorian skirts (it’s a thing)
How to hem from the floor up (where has this been all my life?)
How bodices and skirts were attached (or not, depending)
Full Victorian corsets with me in mind, as in not making one for someone else for once
Period bonnets hats
Fabric selection for 1860s skirts
Fabric choices and skirt widths for fashionista vs. working women
A whole slew of things related to fabric and patterns in the 1880s (unrelated, but fun – I’ll tell you later)
My sad lack of petticoats and the non-period skirt shape I was going to end up with
The Bumpad
Pockets and pocket slits
The “ugly puffer” via American Dutchess
Period flower prints for fabric and how not / close is the pattern on those old sheets I have in the stash?
Whether Beverly’s takes competitors coupons, because I was headed that way
Quilting, free motion quilting, because I cheaped out and couldn’t make myself buy prequilted fabric
And so, dear folks, after thinking I was only making a skirt and considering adding a flounce to an existing petticoat, the plan / to-make list is as follows:
Removing the decorative gray trim from the bolero – done
Opening the sides of the existing petticoat for pocket slits and to make the waist size more flexible – done, but not worth show and tell
The bumpad – done, will post on it
The quilted pocket – done, will post on it
The ugly raisin quilted petticoat, a.k.a “son of the ugly puffer” – WIP
The skirt – TBA
The hat – TBA, blank arrived
Victorian fingerless gloves (mine are all rather chunky knit/crochet) – WIP. First glove is ready to get it’s two seams (because I’m cheating)
The spats – WIP. The base pattern is done. I can probably get away without them though the boots I plan to wear are fairly modern ankle boots. At least they are plain, have toe caps and a stacked heel.
Here’s the sad original plan, back when I thought I could get away with just making a skirt. I’d just sort of pinned the fabric up on the dummy. I’ll have to do a side by side comparison of the original plan vs. the complete costume once it’s all ready. The difference is huge.
Ready to wear never quite fits. Because, honestly, it’s not meant to.
RTW will only ever be your exact fit by happy accident. These items are intended to fit a bodytype and average size of that customer, graded up or down. Since we’re unique – and changable – we get our own unique fit issues by clothing type and brand. Even sometimes within a single brand…
Crotch depth in pants (and waistband gaping)
Bum coverage in undies
Bodice vs bottom sizing in dresses
Torso length in dresses/one-piece bathing suits
Bathing suits in general
Calf circumference in tall boots or even socks
BRAS. Freaking bras.
I hate bra shopping maybe slightly more than I detest pant shopping
These can be reasons we sew, but each of them includes specialized issues and techniques for a good finished product. Just because I can make a corset doesn’t mean I can tailor a suit (or want to spend the time learning to do so). Just because someone quilts doesn’t mean they can or want to sew a dress. I don’t know that I want to make my own bra…
I have a long history of being unhappy with bras (like probably 95% of you). I’m small busted with a small ribcage. My ribs are small enough that probably half the US brands don’t come in my band size. I usually find a brand that runs small and if it comes in a 32, great (but a 30 with the right cups would be better). If not I get a 34 and start on the smallest hook. That means my bras wear out faster.
Last year I bought a couple Warner bras that fit rather nicely. I even started on the outer hooks in a 34! But quickly moved to the middle ones. That was the point where I realized there was no elastic in the band, just powernet. WHAT!#@$??? The hem is folded up and I guess I assumed there was elastic inside. I already knew the bras were on the cheap side (though not MalWart cheap, that’s a whole different low) because the band isn’t lined. Lining can be cushioning, but it also means there are two layers of fabric taking the strain. Elastic helps with that even more. But not this bra. Incidentally, a similar bra in the same line, but in the previous year’s model, does have elastic. That version is lasting better, no surprise.
My solution is to add elastic. I bought some plush back to match. But how much negative ease do I need? Too much and it will be constricting. Too little, pointless. From the single t-shirt I’ve made I know that a self fabric band collar gets 15% negative ease, so that’s a place to start. But I want to do it once and be done. To the internet!
Whereupon a rabbit’s hole is discovered and an afternoon all but lost. I think I’ve mentioned before that I like research and planning and plans. Today, my rabbit hole is your gain:
A highly recommended bra size calculator that gives me a rather different size than what I’ve been wearing forever
Discussions of what goes into creating an ideal custom bra pattern and challenges of a bespoke bra startup with Bra Theory (tons of great info in intricacies of underwires, finding suppliers, fittings, shape, etc)
Now that’s a wide pant. About 62″ around each hem.
This is a mock up for the 1930s beach pajama project, so they aren’t hemmed at the moment. I’m pleased to report that they for the client’s waist/hips nicely and the length is pretty good, though a bit long in the front. Of course she’ll need to wear the appropriate shoes for the final hem.
Wiiide leg pants, sans waistband
Frankenpattern 30s beach pajama pants
We’ve decided to do the pants in navy linen. The top (third image down, on the right) will be bi-colored in navy and the natural linen of Nick’s cowl. I’ll be looking for a period belt buckle and hopefully matching buttons for the top.
As someone who makes things I’m hugely aware of all the waste I personally generate. The end of a project finds my floor covered in multiple dustpan-fulls of thread and scrap fabric, depending on the project size, and that’s after putting the bigger scraps into the scrap bin. Unless you are using zero waste patterns you will generate scraps.
Enter a company like Avrin Goods, who buys scrap fabric from the floors of production sewing operations and turns it into new yarns and eventually socks and underwear. Kudos to them and I sincerely hope this is telling of the future.
I’m a little dubious of their claims. They say to grind down the scraps and create new yarn without using any liquids: “The yarn we use for our products does not need to be re-dyed, and there’s no chemicals or water used to produce it,” per Winegardner, one of the company partners. I’m not sure how you make yarn from what must be short fibers (which can’t be done in a low-tech manner) without some sort of liquid process. It’s possible the quote was misused or misleading; they may have been referring to not using liquids because they don’t dye. I also assume they (or their supplier) cleans the materials before use, which would involve liquids.
I hope they are as sustainable as the story implies. I’d like to think that is a future consumers and makers can look forward to.
By the Bodkin 