Wow, it has been a long time since I've blogged here. There are a number of reasons for that--I had a medical crisis about this time last year, and I'm only now getting back to something like normal. The good news is that during the time since I last posted, I've done a *lot* of sewing. I'm not going to be able to blog about it all post facto, but maybe I'll get back to blogging about projects as I finish them.
This project was a chemise gown, or a robe en chemise, or a chemise a la reine. These are various ways of referring to a gown made of lightweight white cotton with a gathered bodice. The style is sometimes referred to as a chemise a la reine because Marie Antoinette famously wore it in a portrait by Elisabeth Vigee Le Brun that caused quite a scandal because--shockingly!--the gown looked a lot like an undergarment (a chemise).
In any case, I'd been eying this project for a long time, and I had the cotton fabric to make it. I just wasn't sure how exactly to tackle it. I purchased the Laughing Moon Robe en Chemise pattern, mostly to get an idea of how it could be constructed. I've watched several videos of makers creating chemise gowns, as well. But everyone seemed to do things a little differently, and there were so many variations for styling. Some versions have gathering at the waist and under the bust, some just at the waist. Some have a neck ruffle, some don't. Some have gathered, ruffled sleeves, some have fitted sleeves. Some had linings, some did not. Based partly on the LM pattern and partly on my own experiences thus far in sewing (not least of which was a somewhat similar 1830s dress of gathered white cotton that I made recently), I decided I wanted a fitted lining. This would control the gathering and make it less loosey-goosey. I didn't quite know how to go about this, but I knew that's what I wanted to attempt.
I'd been banging my head against the wall for a very long time trying to figure out a fitted 18th century bodice pattern. I made many, many failed mockups and even a few failed bodices. But then I did something just so crazy that it actually worked: I measured myself in my stays (I love my stays, by the way, which were made from a [modified to fit] Red Threaded pattern). I measured my bust and my waist, and the distance from bust to waist, underarm to waist, and back-of-neck to waist. I measured the distance from shoulder to shoulder and the height of my armscye. Then I plotted it out as a pattern, and I'll be damned if it didn't work when I made a mockup. Of course, the seam lines aren't where they need to be for most 18th-century bodices, but those can be redistributed.
A lightbulb went off. I would have my lining free at the front, finish the edges a bit shy of the actual center front, and add ties. This would lend it some adjustability and provide structure to the whole gown. I also wanted to follow the plan used in the blog above by cutting the entire front of the fashion fabric as one piece (sans shoulder straps) and making a slit down the center front, which I then finished with a narrow hem. I was trying to figure out how to put the front and back together and use the same casing for the drawstrings all the way around. I realized finally that I couldn't do that without having the lining and fashion fabric entirely separate except for at the shoulders, and that seemed to me to somewhat defeat the purpose of the lining, which was to help control the gathers and give structure.
So in the end, this is how it works: the back is two pieces, the bodice and the skirt. The back bodice is lined; the fashion fabric is gathered at the waist with gathering stitches and halfway up the back with a cording channel and drawstring. The gathers at the waist are controlled by being basted to the lining; the skirt (a gathered rectangle) is then stitched to the lining and fashion fabric. I tacked down the drawstring at the center back to help ensure the gathering doesn't get off-center. The front is one long piece with a slit down the center, as mentioned, and is gathered at the waist and under the bust with drawstrings in a channel (of bias tape). The drawstrings are sewn into the side seam and tie at the center front, where the slit is. The fashion fabric is attached to the lining at the side seams, the armscyes, and the shoulder-strap seams but is otherwise free. The lining underneath is fitted by means of the ties at the front.
To pattern the gathers, I took the lining fabric, drew lines that divided it into sections, and separated the sections by several inches (I just drew this out--I didn't cut up the fabric). The back gave me no trouble at all, but I had some difficulty with the front. It turns out, you don't want any gathers to go into the armscye. I also realized that I started with WAY too much fabric. I couldn't gather it down tightly enough to fit to the lining, so I had to cut that down a bit.
I should also note that I finished the back neckline independently, turning the seam allowances of the lining and fashion fabric inwards towards each other and whipping them together. To finish the front, I did a narrow rolled hem from the lining and a wider hem for the fashion fabric, which I turned into a cording channel.
Next, I had to decide on the sleeves. A lot of these gowns have puffy sleeves gathered with drawstrings at the upper arm and elbow, ending with a ruffle. In fact, that's how the sleeves are in the famous portrait of Marie Antoinette en chemise. Still, I liked the sleeker, more elegant look of the fitted sleeve. In particular, I took some inspiration from this Gainsborough portrait: https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/paintings/thomas-gainsborough-mr-and-mrs-william-hallett-the-morning-walk (by the by, I did a copy of this in pastels, and it's hanging on the wall over my bed). Mrs. Hallett has fitted sleeves here. I figured that since I was going for slightly more structure in this gown, what with the fitted lining, and knowing that a bit of structure looks best on me, I decided on fitted sleeves, and I think it was right decision.
A final bit of fitting business: I needed a false rump. You'd think that, having gotten this far, I would have already sorted out the undergarments. You would be wrong. I had been using bum pads from other eras, but I decided to make myself something to actually give me the proper shape. I used the free Frances Rump from Scroop Patterns, and I made it in a single day, along with a white petticoat, out of a thrifted bedsheet and stuffing from an old pillow.
So. Sleeves were sorted. The silhouette was sorted. And it looked like this:
I was very happy with it: the fit is nice, the shape is lovely. Overall, a success. But it needed something. Accessories. I fiddled around with different options for fichus and bows and ruffles. I finally landed on adding a ruffle (it maybe could've been wider, but oh well), a sash of blue silk (it took FOREVER to hem all the edges on this sash), a fichu made of some silk chiffon (or something) that I'd had in my stash for a very long time, and a bow at the center front (I'd made a smaller bow but realized it needed to be bigger).
Looking back, I do quite like the plain chemise gown, too. Hm. Uh-oh, does this mean I need to make another one, but without the ruffle and accessories? Or maybe I can remove the ruffle sometimes? it's just loosely whip-stitched on, after all.
Anyway.
The final hurdle was hair. Hair is a really weak point for me. My own hair is very fine, I have very little volume, and I have almost no hair-dressing skills. 18th-century hair styles are very intimidating! I bought myself the American Duchess Guide to 18th-Century Beauty (I already had their book on Dressmaking). I made hair powder using their recipe (I already had pomade) and made a hair cushion per their pattern. I bought some false hair and made it into pin-in hair buckles. With some trepidation, I did a hair test--and, you know what? It went pretty well. I decided to made a few adjustments, but I liked where things were going.
With that, I felt prepared to take my 18th-century look with me to Williamsburg for a visit at the beginning of April. I went the same time last year and had intended to have an 18th-century look ready by then, but I just wasn't ready. I was ready this year, though!
Williamsburg is something of a dream as far as taking photos in historical costume. I stayed in the historical area, so all I had to do was get ready and step right out the door, and I was in a beautiful, historical setting--acres an acres of it. There were so many options! I could walk in a garden with tulips in bloom or cross a foot bridge under a blooming tree, or sit on the steps of a historical building. It helped that by the time I was ready for pictures, the sun was setting--the lighting was gorgeous. And I was thrilled with the results of my photo shoot.
Getting ready:
Out and about in Colonial Williamsburg:
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