Leather Stays Again!

From the Summer 2012 Thread-Headed Bust-or-Bust Collection, we proudly present yet another pair of leather stays! 

(I'll quietly wait here as you drool over my contorted flesh.)

Mmm... Squozen.

I pretty much continually obsess over leather stays. That's normal, right? I think about them more than I think about housecleaning (har!) or eliminating my increasingly obvious mustache combined.  (Not that there is much else to do here in the great state of "93% Humidity" in the town of "Flash-Flood Warnings Since Monday.") And yes, you read the "2012" correctly at the top. I cut these out almost exactly a year ago, and haven't gotten around to posting about them til now. Please feel free to make up your own excuses for me; I've grown weary of providing my own.

Construction and tools are pretty similar to my very first pair, except that I used the previous stays as my starting pattern rather than going back to Drea's Elizabethan corset generator. After more than a year of use, I had a pretty good idea of the changes I wanted to make. The most obvious change is, of course, the front-lacing action. I wasn't sure that I cared for it in theory or practice, but I wanted the experience. Now, I'm a convert to the style. These are SO much easier to get on and off.

And for the record, yes, they do lace closed in the front. This was a quick n' dirty photo shoot out in  the driveway. While you're at it, please ignore the shoestring lacing. 

I changed the shape quite a bit as well. These are shorter, with a wider top and narrower back. The hip tabs flare out much higher than the original pair and the front "tummy panels" bow out slightly due to the changes I made to the hip area. Consequently, these are more flattering for the silhouette of 1780-1790(ish) styles than earlier years'. The decorative cutting on the outside surface was the product of idle experimentation more than historical accuracy or academic research. 

What works: 

* The front (and back) lacing. Adjustment, ingress and egress are vastly improved over the original set of leather stays.

* The changes to the silhouette. My movement (arm rotation, mainly) is much better. 

* I used a thinner leather this time around, around 8 oz.. I was concerned initially that I'd lose support, but the weight of the leather is excellent and flexibility is improved. I doubt that I'd recommend using anything much thinner for this style, but meh? More experimentin' is needed. 

What didn't/doesn't work:

* R.I.P. shoulder straps; I knew ye not. These were initially cut with shoulder straps rising from the back panels, to be secured to the front on either side of the bust.The straps were technically functional, but they were annoying and created weirdness under every garment I own. Two flicks of the knife later, they annoy me no more. I probably won't attempt to cut straps into the body of leather stays again. Piercing the leather (front and back) and cutting separate, floating straps is much easier and potentially adjustable. 

I'm in the midst of two new pairs, one of which is based on an item in the Nordiska Museet collections. Hopefully at least one of those will be finished before the end of the year. (Not that you'll see them, of course. At the rate I'm currently finishing projects and posting, they should go "live" on the blog sometime in  2022.)

I almost named this post "The Weekly Wedgie #1."

No, really.

But then, I realized that even if the world needed another soul-wrenching weekly round-up of Blogger angst, it most certainly shouldn't been named in honor of a violent act of vigilante skivvy-yanking.

Then, there is the burden of irony in committing myself to weekly blog posts after a 3-week hiatus.

So! What's new? Well, for starters, there's this:

It's a petticoat! For the Historical Sew Fortnightly "Peasants and Pioneers" challenge, a.k.a. "#5." This petticoat is made like every other 18th century petticoat I've cobbled together, with the exception of hemming it to the correct length BEFORE attaching it to the waistband. This worked out pretty well and will hopefully mitigate *some* of the pathetic scrambling to shorten petticoats prior to wear each time I need one. I don't know about you guys, but every single petticoat I made in my first two years of attempting such things is waaaay too long. The worst of the lot actually touches my shoes. Yes. 

The material (woven cotton flannel) is folded prior to pleating, and attached to the waistband with the interior edges left raw. The waistband is made of Dutch linen tape from Wm. Booth Draper, and cut a bit shorter than I usually do. I decided to go minimalist on both tape and yardage in the spirit of the challenge, so the petticoat is of humble width as well(basically 88 inches). 

And here is a picture of our heroine, wearing the petticoat:

What can I say? It's been a tiring few weeks.

Those of you following the Dreamstress's challenge may notice that this is about a week overdue. The worst of it is, I finished this petticoat over six weeks ago just to use up the last bit of this fabric! It's been done that long. Grr! I didn't intend to use it for any challenge, but life intervened, as it occasionally does. My original intention was to make a pair of leather stays for the Peasants and Pioneers challenge, based on this pair in the Nordiska Museet that I've discussed before. 

I have the leather, linen tape and even a scrap of antique Swedish linen to use for the lining. The big hold-up? Those damned "bars of iron" stuffing the front channels. I naively believed that I would be able to find a few little iron bars quickly and easily.

BWAAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!

I have contacted virtually every blacksmith I can by phone within a day's drive of my current location. I found a guy about 45 minutes away who said he could easily do it, no problem! After three weeks of wasting time going back and forth, he finally produced steel bars. Steel is made of iron (in part), but it's not what was used in the original stays. All of this went down about a month ago, leaving me pretty much where I started. So that project has been put on the back burner again. Boo.

In other news:

* I gave another presentation on the Jehossee Exhibit and will be moving the lot to another museum in June. Jehossee lives on! 

* Spring Break was last week. And not a moment too soon. I spent mine doing absolutely nothing except fighting a sinus infection and avoiding responsibility in all forms.

* I also made this:

Into this:

Internal Hamdialogue: At least it's not cupcakes.

The child on the right is "Hambone" (with a cousin), beloved offspring of my awesome friend "Boobs." He had a birthday, as children are inclined to do, allowing me to indulge in my yearly tradition of staying up all night making a malformed edible tumor that vaguely resembles whatever he actually wanted. He then pretends to be pleased and I pretend that I am awake for the duration of the party. 

I've got a pile of Regency stuff on the "to-do" list for most of the immediate upcoming HSF challenges, and with any luck, I'll actually finish some of it on time. Along with a blog post or two, if I can motivate myself. I've been in a bit of a funk, and I'm starting to get on my own nerves. Hopefully, that can act as its own motivation. In the meanwhile, here's the challenge break-down:

The Challenge: Peasants and Pioneers (#5)

Fabric: Woven striped cotton flannel from Fabric.c*m

Pattern: None. 

Year: It's intended to be worn as an under-petti, so I'm planning to wear it with wild anachronistic abandon. However, the cotton material, flat front panel and inverted pleats in back put it best at the late 3rd-early 4th quarter of the 18th century.

Notions: Linen tape.

How historically accurate is it? I don't know of any American woven cotton flannel petticoats from the 18th century, so it's not based purely upon an original. However, Florence Montgomery's "Textiles in America" includes swatches of many similar materials. Entirely hand sewn with accurate seam finishes, though the hem at the bottom is generous for a petticoat. Personal rating: 9 of 10.

Hours to complete: About 4. 

First worn: This morning, over my head in the yard.

Total cost: Fabric was $4 a yard, tape was about $2 per yard... so about $16 total.  (The length of the striped material was about 3 yards, and I used all but 18 inches of it.)

My Lovely Lady Rump.

Just in time for the Historical Sew Fortnightly Challenge #3, I've produced this, a rump.

Majestic, no?

I didn't really think about making a rump for this challenge until I was trotting about in my super pretty gold gown last week and I realized that the shape and relative weight of my current rump wasn't quite getting it. My old rump (oh, how I love those words...) is made of the same pink sprigged cotton duck fabric, but tightly stuffed with rags and sawdust. At the time I made it, 10 pounds of rags and sawdust sounded like a GREAT idea because the hip pads I made four years ago (stuffed with a meager assemblage of bamboo and cotton fluffer-stuff) have slowly deflated like a popsicle in a frying pan. The old rump worked well, but it was bloody heavy.

 The new rump by night. Oooooh, baby.

There comes a time in every woman's life that she questions the wisdom of appearing in public burdened with what feels like most of a corpse tied around her waist. So I needed a new, lighter rump. My mother had given me a wonderfully busted old chair a couple of years ago as punishment for being such a disappointment as a daughter. (This is an assumption based on the relative hideousness of the chair. Hi, Mom!!!) During a particularly misguided bout of craftiness, and largely inspired by the success of RabidGlow, I pulled the chair apart with the intention of re-upholstering it.* I used the discarded padding from the upper back of the chair to stuff this rump. I suspect it's some form of poly/wooly/cottony blend but I have no idea. Its lightweight, it was handy, and it has maintained its original shape for more years than I've been alive.

* Yeah, freaking right.

The shape was dictated by a non-specific idea I had about what I wanted it to feel like more than what I wanted it to look like. (I was very inspired by some of the images in the excellent article that was presented on Démodé recently, too! Serendipitous timing.) This is a terrible way to do anything, but there you have it. Other than that, the fabric really had the final say in shape. I only had a small bit left of the cotton duck, and I wanted to make the biggest rump that I could. (Don't we all?)

 Closing the deal. I have made So. Much. Stuff. out of this fabric. It has integrated itself into the two rumps, a pinner apron and the lining of a half-finished coat. I think this is officially the last of it, though.

The seams are all back-stitched for strength. A 30" length of cotton tape was used as a waist tie, threaded all the way through the rump. I quilted 4 channels through all of the finished layers for the characteristic "puffy shell" look seen in 18th century caricatures. That was ultimately the most time-consuming part because I initially thought that I could sew through 4" of puff with a 3/4" needle.

 And we have rump! Rumpus Rumpus! The pink ribbon is not a permanent fixture. I didn't like how boxy the shape was when it was finished, so I tied the ribbons down tight to help round it up a bit. But then, I really liked it so I've decided to use some slightly less plastic-y ribbon on it when I find the right stuff.

In complete defiance of my lifestyle, moral code, spiritual beliefs and genetic proclivities, I finished this thing well over a week early. I know, I know. Something must be wrong with me. I'm looking into it. It was a tender mercy though, because I needed it. I spent part of the past week putting the Jehossee exhibit is back up at the university archives and I needed all the padding I could get for those blasted mannequins. Above, you see the rump already pressed into service to augment the abruptly interrupted charms of the mannequin I dubbed "Assless Boobs On A Stick." (If you don't get it, follow the link. Unless you don't want to get it, in which case you are probably too classy to be reading this. Go you!)

Something new I'm trying. It looks like an 8th grade science project, though. Hmm.

The Dastardly, Deadly Dull Facts:

The Challenge: #3: Underneath It All

Fabric: My last little patch of yellow sprigged cotton duck.

Pattern: None. I referenced a few illustrations and the truly awesome post that Démodé recently published.

Year: 1780-ish is the intended use, but it's currently sitting nicely under an 1850 gown. It's a full-service rump.

Notions: Yes! Finally! I used a 30" bit of cotton tape threaded all the way through it as a waistband. That is totally a notion. The ribbons count too, I suppose.

How historically accurate is it? What to say? It's a functional butt cushion. Accuracy wasn't as big of a concern here due to my desire to have something more practical than strictly accurate. However, it's sized and shaped similarly to several original rumps (as seen in illustrations). The stuffing is highly suspect, and I have no way of verifying the use of cotton duck for rumps. I'll give this one a 5 of 10 for those reasons.

Hours to complete: 3. It could be done in half that, but it took me ages to figure out to use a larger needle for the quilting.

First worn: About a week ago for fitting purposes. However, it has been proudly installed under a cotton dress and petticoat for several days, so technically it's in use now.

Total cost: Zippo Nano. And MAN does it feel good to use up these odds and ends!

WTF: Alison Edition. (Happy Halloween!)

Boo! And witchy stuff!

This past weekend, instead of going to the Civil War event I'd planned on, or seeing the long-lost friend that was in town, or really getting much of anything accomplished, I sat at home and felt crummy. But it's Halloween and by gum, I'm gonna post something. And maybe, since I relentlessly mock those poor Regency hussies so much, I should scrutinize myself for a minute. For your viewing pleasure, may I present:

Pictures of Myself that I've Found on the Internet

*Not what you're probably thinking. All from Comic Book Conventions!

For optimal humiliation, I'm including a picture stolen from somewhere on the internet of what I was supposed to look like. 

The Winsome Wasp!

A.K.A. Janet Van Dyne, The Wasp, probably lots of other stuff. I don't keep up anymore.

tansyrr.com

Just for the record, the Wasp is probably the shortest adult female character in... maybe anywhere. She's an Avenger, from the classic Marvel line-up. She's around 5 feet tall, and shrinks down to the size of... well, a wasp. Since I am huge and  inappropriate, almost nobody knew who I was. And yes, those are my underwear, and yes, it was an "intentional costuming decision." That only makes it worse, I know.

Bat-Woman!

A.K.A. Golden Age Batwoman, Bat Woman, Kathy Kane, Bruce Wayne's piece o' the week.

Wikipedia

Oh, did you come looking for condiments, Batman? Well relish THIS.

The best part of this costume was realizing my rump was too big to fit into the original bottoms the day of the convention. So I improvised, Bat-Woman style and used my gym shorts and tucked up the legs. As a side note, I've worn that wig more frequently than I've worn my current pair of running shoes. Even though this is a "classic" Batman character, nobody had ever heard of her. Consequently, ONE person knew who I was and - no joke- he was profoundly mentally retarded.

Aayla Secura!

A.K.A "that blue chick that got blasted into oblivion in Episode III because she got distracted by a freakin' BIRD." It was a bird, Aayla. A BIRD. I hope it was worth losing the Galactic Republic.

 Star Wars Wiki!

 Awww, YISSSS! This was an epic masterpiece, truly. The pants were under more pounds of pressure than the walls of a submarine and my "blue skin" kept rubbing off onto the creepers and children of creepers who wanted pictures. Worthy of note: this was like, EIGHT FRIKKIN' YEARS AGO. The movie had just come out, everybody had seen it, and every man, woman and child in America knew who I was. (Except for the little girl who was sure I was a Smurf. Sorry, sweetie.) Everything blue was a different color of blue and at a critical moment in the afternoon, one of my Styrofoam "ears" (or whatever they are... side horns?) fell off and landed in my cleavage.

Happy Halloween, everyone! May your body paint stay put, your tights never ride up, and your Styrofoam prosthetics remain true!

WTF: Regency

Wherever they're going, I hope it's together.


"Mavis Whittle-Snape had occasion to reflect upon her folly many times that day, none so much as when she met Beatrice McBlodgins in the avenue on the way to watch a public execution."

Mavis: "Good-day, Beatrice. Won't you join me at the gallows?"
Beatrice: "Thank you, no, Mavis. But let's not mince words. I can see your... rather sheer shift."
Mavis: "That's not a shift. That's a petticoat."
Beatrice: "Fine. But I can see the junction."

Bloody brilliant. This solves so many dilemmas of etiquette ... that timeless question of what to wear when you want to prostitute yourself, but you also need to attend an infant baptism later in the day? A completely sheer gown and chapeau combo with a modesty apron, of course! The only thing that's actually lined on the entire ensemble is the lower sleeves. An odd touch, that. I suppose she wished to avoid the scandal that visible forearms would have ignited.

And possibly the most unbelievable aspect of this whole thing: who would wear this in May in LONDON? It's about 58 degrees at high-noon in London, in May. I would say "in the sun" rather than "noon," but as we all know, January to December is the rainy season in England.


All my best to Nuranar, who is probably wishing that I was a little less assiduous in giving credit for images right now.

A! The Underwear Edition.

It's not creepy to talk about an infant's underwear, right?

Right.

"A" is supposed to be a year old or younger, and generally useless as most children of that age tend to be. Adorable but completely incapable of doing your taxes or picking high-hanging fruit or properly cleaning wild game. Properly.

This will just focus on the underthings, as it would be unwieldy to discuss the outer dress as well.* So this will focus on the diaper and diaper shirt.

*I'm too lazy to find the pictures.

Starting from the bottom-up, (heh) we have the diaper. Not so shockingly perhaps, I was unable to find a great deal of information about diapers. The Workwoman's guide, from the late 1830's described a method of making baby linen, including diapers. An internet search turned up an agreement on the lack of information, but not much else by way of surviving extants.

There's a Tetris game in here somewhere...

Based off of information from The Workwoman's Guide and a few other sources, I went with 100% cotton diaper. Modern diaper is pretty thick. So despite the admonition of "A Lady" to make a square double-thick and then fold it into a triangle, I went with a single thickness of the diaper cut into a square and folded that into a triangle. So that we're clear from the start: I'm a rebel.

Peel and stick vinyl is your friend.

The diaper is sewn edges-together (I used a back-stitch but it wasn't really necessary) and then flipped around and finished as seamlessly as possible. I used two small lengths of cotton woven tape for the ties rather than a continuous piece such as "A Lady" recommends. This was mainly due to my shortage of cotton twill tape rather than subversive tendencies. Per the Workwoman's suggestion, the front "point" of the diaper has a key-hole. The opening is lined in more cotton twill tape to act as a reinforcer. This is meant to aid in closure. 

In theory. 

I can't figure out how the hell this thing works, truth be told. 

Houston, we have a diaper.

So that's a diaper. In reality (versus the hyper-colored dreamland of my mind) this thing could use the extra bulk for an honest-to-gosh, real-live peein' poopin' baby. So maybe the quadruple thickness wouldn't be such a bad thing. The jury is still out. Wool soaker covers WERE used, and while I have no plans to make one, perhaps the addition of that cover would make up for some of what this lacks. I'm convinced that vintage diaper cloth was absorbent but thinner and that the bulkiness would have been closer to what this is now rather than what it would be if I had followed the instructions perfectly.

Moving on!

The diaper shirt was based on this:

Wisconsin Historical Society. So good to me.

I liked this particular shirt because the construction was as simple as it gets (you don't have to pull this over a baby's head... that's intelligent design for ya.) being that it's two shaped pieces basically joined at the side seams under the arms, and then finished along all the other edges with a slip stitch and rolled seam. Brilliant!

 

Pardon the mood lighting.

I omitted the lace that's present on the original because I questioned the logic of it on such a utilitarian garment. When making infant clothing that supposed to be representational, ALWAYS ask yourself: "How easy is it to wash vomit/drool/various effluvium out of this?" Aaaaaand suddenly, no lace.

 

 

The edges were finished as I described and I selected two of the teeniest, most utterly precious shell buttons I possessed to finish off the top. They close on woven thread loops of 100% cotton cord. The shirt itself is made of unbleached muslin.

Ta-Da!

And there you have it. The remaining garments for A include a flannel petticoat, a dress and smock. Those should all be together whenever that particular post happens. One day...


On another note, I apologize for the hideously dark last three pics. I took the photos as I was working in the middle of the night. Lighting in my home is comparable to the lighting available in your average freight elevator. Pretend you're viewing photographs during a Second World War black-out and enjoy!