Pull up a busk and stay, why don't you?

Fresh from the killing fields of "research," our heroine appears! Resplendent in some bodacious polished cotton fabric that was probably rejected from the set of "Golden Girls", she demonstrates her abundant charms to the masses.

Bask in the glories of imperious glances and awkward selfies!

Come, my children, into the liiiiiiiiiight....

Dazzle your senses with an alluring up-cup shot of wrinkled fabric and load-bearing 1980's Waverly calico!

Why, hello.

Relish the bewildering confusion of yet another shot of No Bosoms, featuring an enticing peak at the hoarder-style pile of mess accumulating in the corner!

Most of that is my Goodwill pile, I swear.

There are a few important points I'd like to make:

1., These pictures are a bit on the "gently aged" side. Honestly, I think they are over a year old. That's significant because...

2., I'm a whole lot better at drawing my eyebrows on now! And...

3., I've since added bust gussets to liven things up in the Balcony seating, if you catch my drift.

I have no need for 1820-1840 stays, but I wish I were the kind of person who needed them, so I'm making them. It's the Kevin Costner in "Field of Dreams" approach to sewing. "If you elaborately plan, and then poorly execute it, logic will give way to miracles and invitations will coommmme..." Since there isn't precisely a pressing need for this type of garment, I decided to go for broke and make them as versatile as possible. Ideally, they will at least cover me from late Regency- late Romantic.

This was the intended target:

                            

Via the Met, home of the Super-Famous Lusciously Embroidered Stays

The mock-up stays that I'm wearing are overall pretty solid in the fit department. The wrinkles at the waist are 99% the result of the incredibly graceful angle from which the picture was taken, and the length and bust height are both good. My original intention was to follow the "pattern" of the inspiration stays as much as possible. But... (there are always buts, even when you think you're just dealing with busts) the original cup design just wasn't working for me. Frankly, it was kind of amazing. I have the same voluptuous curves of a yard stick. What were the chances that I'd stumble upon a bust-cup design that wouldn't leave me enough room?? 

But, there it is. I agonized over it for a while, and finally decided to deviate. After all, my natural waist is *ha ha haaa ha sob* nowhere NEAR the position of the band on the inspiration stays. Then, I found this lovely pair...

                                  

I feel as if we've Met before...

...and I'm pretty sure that they are better suited to MY lovely pair. (har har) Though my need of a bust-gusset does not extend to the range of twosies, this pair of stays was clearly made for someone with my gawky, high-waisted mutant proportions. The plan is now to marry elements of the two stay models, which will probably result in something like this:

                

The duck-billed platypus of the Historical Costuming community, if you will.

**I have no idea what heinousness has been perpetrated on Blogger over my absence, but suddenly, it's practically impossible to get pictures centered (see most of above), and I have no control over that huge gap at the top. Weird. 

Dressed to Frill!

After a prolonged bout of whining, I finally managed to compel my long-suffering Manly Person to take a few pictures of the Regency dress that I made for the Historical Sew Fortnightly Challenge # 6. Due to a book signing at work, the annual Mullet and Bullet festival at my favorite local historical site, and this photo-shoot, I've spent three of the past four days in historic dress.

Him: "What exactly are we going for?"

Me: "Pretend like this turns you on."

My inner nerd rejoices. Oh, how she rejoices.

But!!! In addition to pandering to my (undoubtedly) salivating public with soft-focus pictures of myself in Regency drag, I wanted to show off a new piece in my reenactrix arsenal: My frilled collar!

I've blogged about the dress and bonnet before, but haven't had a chance to mention the frill. Here's the scoop: As evidenced by my occasional posts lauding American Duchess (and others), I'm keen on supporting talented, entrepreneurial folks in the historic costuming blogosphere. I purchased this frilled collar from Cassidy at A Most Beguiling Accomplishment a few months ago, and I am so glad that I did! Relentless optimism has its place (in online dating and while eating at restaurants with "B" sanitation grades, for instance), and I'm usually all for trying something that's beyond my skill grade before relenting and sourcing it elsewhere. But, I could not have produced a piece like this. It's exquisitely made, and fits under my modest collection of Regency-wear perfectly.

Cassidy's Etsy shop is called "La Petite Oye". She sells manchettes, collars, and chemisettes (among other things), all of which are made by hand and based on items she has researched. Allow me to repeat that: This is entirely hand-sewn. None of that "visible seams are hand-finished" business. That's classy.

Now, if only I could find an equally unimpeachable source for Regency hairstyling tips for use in 9000% humidity. Seriously... not even a pint of Aqua Net with a dry shampoo shooter can keep a curl crispy in this mess. Just one of the many perks of a day well spent in the hillbilly-scented sauna of South Carolina.

A picture of my cat in a bonnet? YOU GOT IT!!

A long time ago, when the earth was still cooling, and I was still participating in the Historical Sew Fortnightly Challenge, I made this here bonnet:

Lots of hand-modeling in this episode. Enjoy. 

Well, sort of. The grim reality is that I purchased the bonnet from the nice people at Austentation, admired its braided nude straw goodness for about a month, and then slapped some seasonally indifferent flowers upon it.

And here's how!!

All great projects start with a plan. In my case, I planned to go to bed early one night and instead ended up drunk on Etsy searching for things like "STRAW BONNET REGENCY BONNET REENACTOR FORM STRAW." That led me to Austentation's Etsy shop (the link is to their website), and eventually to the fine piece of millinery you see above. Once I had the bonnet in hand, I sought out inspiration. As you can imagine, there is NO lack of 200-year old bad bonnet ideas.

Courtesy of Nuranar, who haunts my dreams AND my blog. I promise... the purple ruffle monster is not forgotten!

The relative simplicity of the plaid-trimmed number appealed to me, (sandwiched as it is between what appear to be lampshades embellished with adult diapers). But where does a girl find scalloped plaid silk ribbon in this crazy, crazy world?? Oh, yeah...

Using only a hammer, pinking iron and the power of my opposable thumbs, I violently carefully beautified the edges of some scrap silk taffeta that I'd previously cut into strips.

And then played around with them, singly and in layers, until I liked the effect. Everything was tacked onto the bonnet with brown cotton thread and my largest blunt needle. (It takes a while, but I can learn!)

I acquired the poppies for this bonnet from H*bby L*bby, but the rest of the bodacious floral bounty is left over from other projects. The flowers were sewn down by their stems, one at a time. Each stem is wrapped around at least one other flower before being attached. I tell myself that this is to ensure stability and strength, but in all honesty, it just made the sewing easier. (No more roly-poly stem chasing!)

Yes, the poppies look sad. You'd look sad too if you had to ride around on my head.

Sooo.... who wants to help me create a South Carolina chapter of the Regency Society?? Seriously, I have NOWHERE TO WEAR THIS STUFF. It's pathetic. No War of 1812 Battle Reenactments, no Regency Fairs (or Faires or Fayres), no nuttin'. Perhaps it's finally time to post an advertisement in the local paper and reach out to my fellow costuming nutcases.

 Or maybe I'll just stick with my current occupation of eating drugstore chocolate and writing to strangers on the internet. 

Yeah... that sounds like a solid plan.

The Challenge: #7: Accessorize!

Fabric: Scraps of pink plaid silk taffeta left over from... you guessed it! The Jehossee Project. 

Pattern: NEVER!!!!

Year: 1812ish

Notions: Assorted faux-floral odds and bits, thread, and silk remnant masquerading as ribbons.

How historically accurate is it? Aside from the questionable flower content, not bad. 

Hours to complete: 4

First worn: By my cat. 

Total cost: $30 for bonnet; $6.00 for flowers

And, as promised:

Oh, Say Can't You Regency? HSF #6!

Welcome to the sixth installment of the Historical Sew Fortnightly Challenge: Stripes! I've made a Regency dress! If only I had a Homeschool Prom to attend whilst wearing it, my life could at last be complete. 

Instead, I'll be filling the void by sitting at home in my pretty stripedy frock as I drink wine from a box, write embittered late-night WTF: Regency posts and talk to my cat. It's what Jane Austen would have wanted, I'm sure of it.

It is a testimony to my lack of proper feminine instinct that I have failed to produce a Regency-style dress til now. Isn't there a clause somewhere in the government-issued booklet that girls receive at birth stating that you must read Emma by the age of 17 and then immediately afterward attempt to cobble together an empire-waist dress? Consider this gown to be yet another milestone in my own awkward, prolonged puberty. (Dammit, I'm not going to act like a grown-up until the acne goes away!)

This dress was constructed like everything else I make: with almost no foresight or planning, and very little skill. I draped the bodice onto Headless June using some bodacious crappity-scrappity fabric that I possess (sorry... no pictures of that), and adjusted the proportions and seam positions until it felt right.   For the most part, I relied on this dress for inspiration, though I omitted the back ties and drawstring, and my sleeves are shorter. (I stared at this one as well, but there aren't many pictures of the details.)

 Rebel that I am, I mixed up my stitchery a bit. The areas that are likely to experience the most stress (armpits, center back, etc.), I finished with a back-stitch. Everything else is in a spaced back-stitch. You can see the transition in the armscye above. 

The bodice is lined in cream cotton sateen, except for the bib. I used a scrap of the calico lining from my gold round-gown for that. The sleeves are mostly lined with muslin, but I used scraps of the striped fashion fabric for the first 4" or so of the bottom of the sleeve. The insides of the sleeves are not at all visible when the dress is on, but it seemed a reasonable precaution.

Since the inspiration gown has the nifty little inner bodice flaps, I did the same thing. I wanted mine to pin closed rather than tie, though. (I didn't want a drawstring in the bodice and the ties would have added lumpy weirdness under the flat, re-designed bib. LUMPY WEIRDNESS, I SAY!)  They are made of white cotton sateen and attached over the finished interior edge. I have no idea if what I did there is correct, but I sure as heck did it. They support my meager bust in addition to closing the sides of the dress. Brilliant!

The skirt is unlined. Honestly, if I were to make this dress again, I would line the skirt. The quilting cotton I used is just a little too thin to hang properly on its own. Hopefully, a period appropriate petticoat or two will help. The material of the skirt is pleated to a band and then enclosed between the bodice fashion fabric and lining. Per the original gown, the bulk of the skirt is pleated at the center back. (I'm making a little pillow that will be sewn under the pleats to support the back. They're hanging a little flat at the moment.)

 Why, hello there matching back stripes.

Regency gowns are generally constructed to play up the "small back" of the wearer. I pandered to this oft-quoted historical costuming trope by using the stripes to form a chevron pattern and inset the sleeves as far back as I could without over-reaching the limits of my own range of motion. There's a knack to setting these sleeves... a wide armscye will give you a much broader range of motion, but your sleeve has to have just enough bulk to allow your arm to take advantage of it. Otherwise, the tiny back/deep armscye combination restricts your arm movement considerably. Needless to say, I am still learning the ins and outs of this balancing act.

I purchased the fabric for this dress over three years ago during an epic Hanc*ck Fabrics sale at my local store. This was a remnant on a bolt with a generous 50" selvedge. That is a critical factor for the following reason: this dress is made with barely 3 yards of fabric. That may not impress some of you delicate, precious creatures out there with your tiny feet and non-monstrous legs and arms. But my Sasquatch-esque extremities usually command more prodigious yardages.

I want pictures! Soon! It unexpectedly rained today, so my resident photographer went out to get groceries. The dress is considerably shorter on me than it is on Headless June, so it will look a bit different. I don't have proper undergarments yet for this era, though I do have a pair of busked c. 1820-1840 mock-up stays I've made for the Flora and Fauna challenge. They were used for most of the fitting.

And that concludes this episode of Thread-Head Theatre. Except for the paperwork! Read on!

 Attack of the Facts:

The Challenge: #6: Stripes!

Fabric: 3-ish yards of reproduction quilter's cotton. (Labeled "1830-1860," but I think it looks a lot like an early roller-print. Maybe that's wishful thinking.)

Pattern: Draped directly onto Headless June as a mock-up in Grandma's Sofa Floral Cotton and adjusted in situ.

Year: 1810's. I've personally examined a very similar bib-front gown from the 1790's made of striped linen, and the primary inspiration dress is described as "1800-1810."

Notions: White cotton thread and 5 steel pins. (Pins are for closure.)

How historically accurate is it? I gave it an 8.5/10 on the HSF Facebook page. The fabric is not a great weight and the construction method is questionable. I made a lot of it up as I went along, consulting pictures for help. However, it's entirely hand-sewn and finished on the inside about a neatly as most of the originals I've seen.

Hours to complete: About 10. Most of the major time was spent on fitting the bodice.

First worn: Yesterday (March 23) to check the fit. I haven't worn it at all since I finished the hem, but I hope to remedy that soon! It rained all day today, ruining my planned photo op.

Total cost: The fabric cost... $1.00 per yard. Yes. Even including the exponential cost of thread and pins, I'm in under $4.00.

BONUS: Obligatory cat!

WTF: Regency

L'amour, L'amour!

Some say that only the French can truly understand l'art de la Romance. I disagree. In honor of Valentine's Day, I present a very English fashion plate as my... "special" valentine to all of you.

Rendered in the rapturous glowing pastels of a Summer sunset over the Thames is this gorgeous image from our friends at La Belle Asfemblee. And who but they could have captured the resplendent elegance of this lovely damsel in her new pink frock? Truly, an artist of the highest caliber was employed for this plate; an individual singularly in tune with both the wisdom of the Old Masters and the inspirational qualities of an opium pipe.

Appreciate, if you can, the emphasis on our Rosie's waist. A bedazzled belt? Absolutely! But open your mind... allow your inner eye to embrace the glory of her embellished skirt! Savor the immutable charm of a series of graduated trapezoids that vaguely resemble scabby dresser drawers. And what could be more romantic than thinking of a woman's scabby drawers?

Consider, if you are able, the divine mystery of a one-legged maiden; Where did her other foot go? Why is she wearing the wrong shoe on her one remaining foot? How has she come to have a slab of bacon upon her coiffure?

Discern, if you are so gifted, the veritable Gordian Knot of bosom she boasts! Observe the seemingly haphazard arrangement of flesh... is it so random after all? Of course not! A true artist sees immediately that she represents the divine Justitia, and her roving spencer weasels are the very scales of Justice. These are poignant remembrances of the imbalance we often face in matters of equity and fairness, as well as a startling reminder to never insert a wooden busk in your stays while intoxicated.

Happy Valentine's Day, folks!


With all the love in the world to Nuranar, who probably weeps every time she opens her Flickr album.

WTF: Regency (Now with 20% less copyright infringement!)

It is a little-known point of 1807 etiquette that, when exposed to the naughty bits of another woman on the streets of London, propriety demanded that you immediately renounce all natural pigmentation as well as your left arm:

 Fashion plate courtesy of the University of Washington Libraries, Special Collections, COS006

"Wihemina, PLEASE. Just tell me if it looks malignant. That's all I'm asking."

Her look of righteous indignation only adds to the unmistakable allure of our pallid amputee, along with the intriguing addition of a spangled bell-pull at the décolletage. (Ring for service!) Not to be outdone, the glories of Lady Violet's feminine apparatus have been further embellished by a coat trimmed in an exuberant halo of spotted Polish rat-pelt and the aggressive use of turban tassels.

One does wonder at her decision to divert focus, but perhaps they match the tassels in the front.



UPDATE 1/29/13:

This post was originally published without a source or credit. Luckily, one of the much more proficient historical fashion enthusiasts among us let me know that this is from the University of Washington. I contacted them regarding the use of this image and I'm happy to say that THEY HATH SPOKEN! (And quickly, at that.) With the proper tagline and a manic gleam of self-congratulatory compliance in my eye, I am at liberty to cull their vast and awesome collections for many, many more abuses of the WTF Fashion Plate variety in the future.

Now, you may all return to your erotic fantasies of the cast of Downton Abbey.

WTF: Sew Regency!

Happy Veteran's Day! 

That goes for everyone who has been in the armed forces or who has loved someone who served. A Thread-Headed salute to you all, and a smile of gratitude too. So naturally, this particular voyage into the vulgar and trite is in honor of Veteran's Day. (hey... I do what I can.)

Occasionally, while trolling the vast network of images and information that my mother calls "the ninnernet," I come across Regency-era fashion plates that have absolutely nothing wrong with them.

No, really! It's true!

Luckily, these are not those.


First up: The Hand Jive.

I am seriously in love with that pretty red vine border she's slammin' down on that kerchief. I have some concerns about her choice of a fork handle in place of a sewing needle, but what do I know? I've never been schooled in the feminine arts.

Except for lying, of course. And eating chocolate instead of paying my taxes every year... wait. Where was I?

Next up: Pink Fink. 

Ahh... VELOUR. No word conveys the expectation of class and elegance quite like "Velour." Our Mauve Mavin seems to have found a clever way of avoiding the needle-related difficulties of her compatriot up there above: simply embroider without a needle. Or thread. Or scissors. Well, really. Who are we  to judge? Maybe on alternate weekdays she just likes to find a few moments alone to sit on her special octo-stool and cuddle her embroidery. Maybe she's the embroidery whisperer.

Maybe she's embroidering... with her mind.

Somebody please explain the physics of this dress. How is this position possible in this skirt? She's attained the elusive 9-point wedgie and STILL that hem is hanging evenly!

Moving on: Knits Knot What You Think.

Okay. So I'm not one of those girls who has ever, EVER, had difficulty seeing her feet. I wear a bra much in the same way kids hang out Christmas stockings each year: with hope that one day soon, they'll wake up and find the thing full.

But I digress.

Our knitter extraordinaire here clearly does not share my plight. You'd think that a woman with such... "great tracts of land" would have figured out a way to hone her craft ABOVE the equator by now. Because really, there is no chance that she can see anything that's in her hands at the moment, even with 4-foot long knitting needles. Nor can she go by feel. Why? Because she's knitting while wearing opera-length leather gloves.

As we do.

Based on the size of needles and the World's Biggest Ball of Twine chillin' out on the floor over there, I'm guessing she's making a scarf.

For Napoleon's ego.


Which brings us to: Rove, Rove, Rove your Boat.

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of the image below is the description. Or rather, the lack of description. We think we are gazing upon a fair maiden spinning the Pope's salt water taffy into fishing lures, while wearing a tragic front-opening vest apparatus and the most unnecessary collection of ruffles EVER (bicep garters??), all of which is surmounted by a kerchief that she clearly stole from color-blind Gypsies.

And what does Costume Parisien have to say about all of this? For answers, we turn to the source:

"Cap of Organdy."

Cool. Thanks for clearing that up, Costume Parisien!! Back to spinning, now. His Holiness's delicious snook bait ain't gonna twist itself.


Furry Finis.

Here we have the curious image of a woman who is expressing the timeless, universal hand sign for "What the hell is this thing?"

Maybe it's vaguely related to sewing! So I'll include it in this post! And even if it isn't, perhaps she can somehow use it to MacGyver a solution to her "prehensile amputated monkey tail boa" problem.

I'd like to think that there are a bunch of little Regency-lings huddled on the floor behind her, listening with rapt awe as she rambles about "the old days"... you know, before the Directoire. Sure, a lot of people lost their heads. But not her! No sir. That "Demi Turban Palatine" is holding on for dear life.

I assume "Demi Turban Palatine" translates loosely to "Bundt Pan With A Fear Of Heights."



In other news, Liz at The Pragmatic Costumer is celebrating a blogging milestone: 100,000 views! That's awesome for several reasons, namely because she has only been blogging at that particular venue for about a year. A YEAR. It's also awesome because she's great at what she does. If you haven't discovered her yet, treat yourself: start with the "Pragmatic Manifesto" and go from there.

Happy reading!


Today's pile of plates brought to you by Nuranar. Viva la Nuranar!

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.

WTF: Regency

Office Supply Closet Haute Couture:

This dress marries the divine elegance of over-sized staples with the timeless, understated glamour of a sunflower glued to the knee. Added to this piquant ambrosia is our obviously near-sighted heroine, who isn't sure whether she's holding her fan or a croissant, but she hopes to muster up the correct answer before anyone sees her nibbling the decorative paper.

Reasonably convincing Goddess Diana replica tiara: 38 shillings.
Leaving the entire top of your gown unlaced: Priceless.


Much love and mad props to Nuranar, who deserves better than this.

WTF: Regency

~*~ A Wedgy Primer ~*~

Agatha had occasion to lament with wrath 

 her voluminous robe one day in Bath.

Bessie St.Clair looked 'round in distress

as she excavated great wads of her yellow dress.

Carolina knew not how her problem had started; 

she only caught on right after she ---

Well, really. That's quite enough of that. 

With all due respect to the ancient and noble profession of Fashion Plate Illustrator, seriously, what are you people smoking? Does it REALLY show off the sexy new dress better if a buxom beauty is clawing at her rump with an apparently broken arm? Should we be reading scenes like this between the lines of every Jane Austen novel? Maybe Bingley would've made his move on Jane Bennet earlier if she hadn't been digging for gold at the dance. Or maybe she wasn't digging hard enough. 

Historical context, people. It's all around us. 

Thanks again to Nuranar, who probably never intended for things like this to happen.

WTF: Regency

How do I feel?

Well, let's just see...

Thank you, Nuranar!

I feel GREAT.


This is why it's a good idea to just follow the other lemmings off the cliff and pose with your hand stuffed in your waistcoat, like Napoleon. Innovation isn't always a good thing.




Yes, yes. Another fluffy post. I will endeavour to write about Worldly And Important Sewing Projects in the coming weeks. But for now, it's just you, me, and Dr. Feel Good up there with his le main in his pantalons et guetres de nankin. Happy weekend, folks!

WTF: Regency

It's going to be a busy week. I've got (whine, piss, bitch, moan) to do and then I have to (whine, whine again, sob) all while I'm supposed to be doing (scream, piss, moan, cry.)

Loosely translated, I'm down to my last week of sewing time before I have to install pretty much all of the Jehossee project at the new Archives building of my friendly neighborhood University. Is it all done? No, of course not! Can I get it finished? Maybe... if I completely ignore personal hygiene (check!), blogging (yes, I can get even more inconsistent with posting), and all personal attachments (I would laugh ironically, but instead I think I'll cry myself quietly to sleep like usual.)

So I leave you with this, my WTF fashion moment of the week:

Hic! Who... who wantsh to play... play "Hide the Hand Under the Scarf?" Hic! Urggh.

Paris Dress? Paris Mess. She looks like Napoleon's after-dinner entertainment. It wasn't enough to trim the hem of the petticoat with 3-dimensional artificial hot-pink flowers, no, they had to be incorporated into the bodice of the gown as well.

The fact that the daisies are lunging from the neckline of that gown like rats fleeing a sinking ship only add to the continental glamour of our Parisian in Pink, amiright? As does her undoubtedly gin-soaked breath and general aura of amiable confusion.

And that's Friday for ya! Happy weekend, troops.

Mansfield Snark plus Ambitions of the Sewing Sort

I do not profess to be a hard-core Austenite like many of my esteemed comrades in the Chicks Writin' About Historical Fashion Club, but I like the lady. Truthfully, I had not read the entirety of a Jane Austen novel until a year ago. But rest assured, the gates of Heaven opened, rays of sunlight fell upon my face and a chorus of Angels droned enthusiastically in refrain when I finally did my duty and read Northanger Abbey.

And WHAT a great book! I have been utterly conquered. Love of La Austen delivered me to the many movie adaptations in addition to the novels themselves. While the hardest to watch is a dead heat between Persuasion (2007) and Mansfield Park (Billie Piper, 2007), I have to say that in general, Mansfield Park seems to make a more wretched movie. Most of the adaptations of that novel are awkward and the heroines vacillate between insipid and unlikable. Internet consensus among the blogs and websites I've trolled seems to agree.

Billie Piper: Freakiest Maw in Show Business. Here, she seems to be thinking "What IS this that's going on with my teeth??" Photo courtesy of Wiki.

Naturally I assumed that I'd hate Mansfield Park the book as much as I failed to enjoy the films. When presented with the opportunity to do a semester-long project on the book for an English class this past semester, I agreed. It was perhaps the only way that I'd get around to reading the book. And read it I did. Over, and over and over again. (Oh, how I do NOT miss you, Lit. Theory)

But shockingly, I liked it. And not only did I enjoy the book, I really liked Fanny Price. Sure, she's no quirky little Catherine Morland, but she is a powerful character. She's funny, sweet and she has a sharp wit when needed. The most common assault on Fanny seems to relate to her inability to think for herself, yet more than any other Austen heroine, she does just that. The subtlety and wry nature of her intelligence and wit are evidenced in her ability to annoy her Aunt Norris in spite of seemingly agreeing with everything the older woman says.

And more than that, one gets the impression that Jane Austen herself perhaps appreciated the physical and social limitations of a character like Fanny Price. Fanny shared some of Jane's own life experiences and strongly reflects elements of Jane's brothers and sisters as well. If Fanny is to be ridiculed for failing to claim what she wanted whenever she wanted it, then ALL of Jane Austen's heroines should be equally ridiculed. Even that hallowed bastion of Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennet didn't announce or follow her intentions and desires outright. Furthermore, unlike Elizabeth, Fanny didn't waste a moment in pondering her heart's desire. She always knew her own heart.

The above soap-box is all to say that I plan to earn my Historical Fashion Blogging chops this year and make the ubiquitous Regency dress. I've never made one before. This isn't the first project on the horizon, though. For the year I must:

*  Finish all of the Jehossee stuff. (Due within a few weeks. Tick. Tick. Tick...)

*  Make an English round gown (or something equally excellent) for a symposium on 18th century fashion I'm supposed to participate in.

*  Finish my beloved linen and cane stays, which have languished for nearly six months without binding or attached lining. Based on these, which are my favorite stays ever in the history of the world:

Philadelphia Museum of Art. 1725-1750.

*  Make another couple of 18th century petticoats because I've got the fabric and it needs to be evicted from the stash.

*  Make an 18th century quilted petticoat. (I eagerly anticipate the day that the roll of wool batting is no longer in my closet, seducing moths.)

*  Make a more accurate Civil War dress and perhaps a few accessories to wear for 150th Anniversary events around town.

 Metropolitan, Costume Institute. 1860.

*  Make a bloody Civil War era corset. WOW do I ever need to do this. One more turn at a battlefield in my clearance rack Victoria's Secret finery and I may have to call it quits. For those interested, YES, it's possible for a corset to wear out. Just like a bra. Only worse and with more poking.

*  And waaaay down here is a lovely little Regency gown. I purchased some window-checked silk a year or more ago that is destined for this dress. I plan to practice putting it all together before I cut into the silk. My dry run will hopefully yield  a second, simpler frock. It shall be rendered of a reasonably passable roller print-style cotton.

 Metropolitan Museum of Art, Costume Institute on both of these. 1804-1814.

And then there's the little issue of having no undergarments for Regency fashions. Hmm...