Empire Waists in 1893?

Empire gown from Delineator, January 1893. Butterick pattern #4944.

Sometimes a new fashion takes off and becomes dominant. Sometimes not!

While browsing through a fashion and pattern magazine from 1893, I learned something new — which may interest vintage clothing collectors. This is a typical style from 1893:

A typical fashion from January 1893, Delineator. A tightly fitted bodice, with huge Leg-o-Mutton sleeves contrasting with a tiny waist.

The huge sleeves and very tiny waists that are associated with the mid-eighteen nineties were already The Fashion in January 1893.

But there was an attempt to introduce a return to the Empire style of 1805:

Empire style dress, early 1800s. Metropolitan Museum collection.

Short-Waist Empire pattern 4912,  Butterick, June 1893. Delineator.

This attempt to to revive a fashion from early in the 19th century took me by surprise.

Butterick Empire Gown and short Empire Jacket for day wear, Delineator, January 1893. This dress has gathers in front and in back, like early French Empire gowns.

The high-waisted jacket of the Empire and Regency periods was called a “Spencer.”

A Spencer jacket. Early 1800s. Metropolitan museum.

This “Ladies’ Empire Jacket,” Butterick pattern 4934 from 1893, could be worn over other outfits.

Butterick Empire Jacket pattern 4934. Delineator, January 1893.

Another “bolero” length jacket was the sleeveless “Zouave Jacket,”
a revival of a style popular in the 1860s.

A sleeveless “Zouave” jacket from Butterick, Delineator, June 1893.

The 1893 Empire fashion required new undergarments, including new corsets that stopped inches above the natural waist.

“Empire Short Stays” were underwear designed to be worn under the new fashion. Butterick pattern 4936, January 1893, Delineator.

Notice the buttons, which were necessary to hold up the petticoat, since it would otherwise slide down to the natural waist.

Notice how this “Empire Petticoat” buttons on to the Empire Short Stays, or corset.

Just as happened in the early 1800s, the skirt part of the Empire gown evolved to have a relatively flat front, with most of the fullness pushed to the back.

The “New Departure” in 1893 was the Empire Waist. Delineator, June 1893. Pattern 4971, lower right, has no gathers in front.

Very quickly, the term “Empire waist” stopped being restricted to gowns that would have looked familiar to Jane Austen. (“The Empire”was that of Napoleon. Here is a portrait of his Empress, Josephine. Her 1805 gown is slightly gathered at the front, with most of the fullness pushed to the back:)

Portrait of Josephine de Beauharnais by Robert Lefevre, c. 1805. Wikipedia

Some of the 1893 Empire gowns look more like Regency styles.

Alternate views of Butterick 4944, Delineator, January 1893.

And Corset manufactures offered this:

“Empire Stays” could apply to a normal, long-waisted corset, as well as the short stays offered by Butterick. Ad, Delineator, June 1893.

What, one may ask, makes those long stays “Empire?” [Afterthought: I noticed that these are corded stays, rather than boned stays….]

Well, instead of a short-waisted top with a full, gathered skirt attached, Butterick’s Delineator magazine began applying the word “Empire” to bodices that were tight to the normal waist, but which had a sash or fabric change a few inches below the bust:

“Ladies’ Empire Costume, with Removable Jacket,” Delineator, January 1893.

Here is an “Empire Belt:”

“Ladies’ Empire Belt” pattern 4923, Delineator, January 1893.

However Empire or Regency ladies would not have recognized these styles:

“Misses’ Empire Waist,” Butterick 6218, June 1893.

Misses’ Empire Waist” 6218, June 1893, Delineator.

“Ladies’ Empire Costume” with “Empire Circular Skirt” & “Empire Jacket.” Jacket pattern 6257, Delineator, June 1893.

Fashion reporters began to call bodices with a natural waist line “the 1830 bodice” (and a full or circle skirt became the “1830 skirt.”)

I poked around in 1893 newspapers and found that the 1893 “Empire Waists” were definitely a topic of debate. [“Waist” was the 1893 term for a bodice, but in this case it also referred to a waistline just below the breasts.]

In March of 1893, The Miami Republican published “Styles of the Empire: Fashion Sailing Between Two Dangerous Rocks of Antiquated Designs. ”
‘You might as well wear a Mother Hubbard and be done with it,’ is what a man said to his wife the first time he saw her in full empire rig.”

A “Mother Hubbard” robe/wrapper/negligee, from Delineator, April 1899. Some men disliked the waistless, figure-hiding Empire garments; to some, the Empire gown was not suitable for public wear.

The newspaper conceded that “the empire frock is comfortable….” while “The 1830 waist, on the contrary, is quite long and very slim. So slim that our healthy young women groan and wonder what they could do, even if it were possible to squeeze into it, for they could never stay there.” But the comfort of the empire waist seemed too self-indulgent, suited to “the woman who would like to sit around in a wrapper [loose house robe] all day.”

The St. Louis Globe-Democrat, October 4, 1893, devoted several pages to a huge ball held in Missouri, describing what was worn by all the ladies — in alphabetical order. Mrs. Henry Allen wore a gown of green faille over an underdress of green, “empire waist outlined with a girdle of gold and green passementerie,” plus a gold comb in her hair. Miss Mary Breckenridge wore pink and white, with an empire waist. Miss Florence Bliss wore white China silk, her empire waist “trimmed with bands of red velvet.” Mrs. C. J. Dunnerman wore black and gold for her “empire waist with crocheted vest over gold satin.” Miss Bessie Davenport was all in white, with an empire waist, while Miss A.M. Douglas’ empire waist was cream silk, and Mrs. J.S. Finkenbiner’s gown was heliotrope bengaline, with an empire waist….

At least eight other ladies — out of more than a hundred — chose to wear the new empire gowns. But it was a minority choice.

It might be tempting — if you find a high-waisted gown from 1893 or so — to classify it as a maternity garment. But not necessarily! Many of the ladies attending that ball in “empire” gowns were “Miss,” not “Mrs.”

Empire dress for Misses, Delineator, January 1893.

Garments called “Tea Gowns” or “Wrappers” often featured fullness over the midriff, but they also had an inner lining that was snugly fitted, like an ordinary bodice or dress. That was true of this vintage garment (undated) which I examined:

A pleat-fronted wrapper with front opening, hidden by the pleat.  Its velvet has worn bare, so it probably got lots of use. Private collection.

It was a very small size, and had a tightly fitted underbodice that closed with hooks and eyes to the waist. It could have been worn with some of the hooks unfastened, but not as a maternal bust swelled.

However, Empire-influenced fashions might be worn as aesthetic dress in the 1890s. This Tea dress is in the collection of the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco.

The 1893 empire waist was just another fashion flame that flared briefly … and went out.

New Year’s Resolutions

 

Veiled woman from Delineator, July 1898.

1. Leave the old year behind.

2. Move forward with enthusiasm.

 Delineator, July 1898.

3. Exercise every day.

Woman cyclist, Delineator, July 1898

4. Wear entertaining socks!

Plaid stockings on lady cyclist, July 1898.

Happy new year!

Warm Winter Coats from December 1893

I think of those very large leg-o’-mutton sleeves as the fashion of 1895, but they started earlier.

From Delineator Magazine, published by Butterick in December 1893.

A good, warm winter coat is useful almost anywhere, so here are some coats (and capes) from 1893 — 130 years ago — to wear in your dreams.

Butterick coat pattern 6593, from Delineator, December 1893, p. 629.

The nearly floor length coat has a front waist seam that echoes the woman’s suit jacket of the day.

To achieve the tiny waist and full hips of this period, you could wear a corset like this under your dress:

Ad for a “Solid Comfort Corset.” from Delineator, December 1893.

Some corsets came with bust padding:

This shows very large hips in relation to the midriff, and arrived with “Tampico Dress Forms” — which probably helped the corset to “develop the bust.”

Your 1893 coat could be relatively simple and tailored, or you could indulge in a few frills:

What with the capelet and the huge sleeves, a lady must have taken up two seats on the bus….

Triple capelet, horizontal shoulders/sleeves, vertical hat.

This three-quarter coat is double-breasted, like a man’s reefer jacket (or pea coat:)

Three-quarter coat, with back fullness that echoes the skirts of 1893. Butterick pattern 6592.

This distinctly feminine double-breasted style has a “sprung collar,”  swooping up at the shoulders. Delineator, December 1893. Butterick pattern 6606.

It took a lot of wool to make coat sleeves that would fit over the enormous dress sleeves of the day:

Lady’s visiting toilette, December 1893. Her purse looks ridiculously small compared to her sleeves and lapels.

I think that getting into a cape would have been much easier than getting in and out of a coat, and capes were definitely an option:

Collars were very high in 1893. This type, with flaring over the shoulders, is a “Columbia collar.” You could make the cape in two different lengths.

“Outdoor toilettes,” December 1893, Delineator magazine.

If you want to read more about these styles from 1893, copy and paste this link to the Hathi Trust. It will take you to the complete December 1893 issue of Delineator magazine: 

https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=coo1.ark:/13960/t96761w78&seq=641

“Warm Wishes” for a Happy New Year.

Birth of the Three Piece Suit: October, 1666

How did men go from wearing suits like this:

Petticoat breeches, British, 1660. Victoria and Albert Museum; image from Boucher, 20,000 Years of Fashion.

… to wearing suits like this?

Man’s three piece suit illustrated in Esquire, Autumn, 1933.

Suit with petticoat breeches, from Boucher; 1666. You couldn’t have too many ribbons….

There aren’t many changes in fashion which can be dated to a specific moment, but the change from petticoat breeches to the trio of coat/jacket, matching breeches, and a matching or coordinating vest was inaugurated in England on Monday, October 15, 1666. It is considered to be the birth of the Three Piece Suit.

When Charles II was restored to the throne of England after years of Puritanical rule, the king brought with him the extravagant styles worn in European courts.

English King Charles II with his queen, 1662. Source: Cunnington: Costume in Pictures.

In October, 1666, Charles declared his intention to start a new fashion for men. Diarist Samuel Pepys held an official position in government and was present at the court of King Charles II on that day. When Pepys went home, he wrote in his diary for October 8:

“The King hath yesterday in Council declared his resolution of setting a fashion for clothes, which he will never alter. It will be a vest, I know not well how; but it is to teach the nobility thrift, and will do good.”

NOTE: About the word “vest:” The gulf between British and American English may be more confusing than usual, because clothing vocabulary is very subject to change. (For example, a “bodice,” i.e., the top section of a dress, began as “a pair of bodies,” meaning the two sides of a corset.) In 20th c. England, “vest” came to mean a sleeveless undergarment worn by men, while they called the garment which goes over the shirt but under the coat a “weskit” or “waistcoat.” However, in 1666, even in England, although the vest was worn under a coat, a “vest” was meant to be seen, and through the 18th century, a vest might even have sleeves. Perhaps we should think of Charles II’s “Persian vest” as a “vestment” or “clothing” rather than the waist-length garment the “vest” later became, especially in America.

 After a few years in England (and perhaps in a spirit of competition) Charles decided to break with the distinctly un-thrifty French fashions of Louis XIV’s court. (One way Louis kept his nobles from becoming too powerful was by forcing them to live at court and spend lavishly….) Here is King Louis in his petticoat breeches and cropped top:

King Louis XIV receiving Swiss Ambassadors, 1663 painting by Van Meulen. From Boucher’s 20,000 Years of Fashion.

Why a “Persian vest?” The English writer (and courtier) John Evelyn had returned from travels in the East in 1666, filled with enthusiasm for the men’s clothing he saw there. (See Barton’s Historic Costume for the Stage.)

Once King Charles II had declared his intention of starting a new fashion for men, his courtiers literally tried to “follow suit.” On Saturday, October 13, Pepys visited the Duke of York, who had just returned from hunting and was changing his clothes. “So I stood and saw him dress himself, and try on his vest, which is the King’s new fashion, and will be in it for good and all on Monday next, and the whole Court: it is a fashion, the King says; he will never change.”

On Monday, October 15, Pepys recorded “This day the King begins to put on his vest, and I did see several persons of the House of Lords and Commons too, great courtiers, who are in it; being a long cassocke close to the body, of black cloth, and pinked with white silke under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with black riband like a pigeon’s leg; and, upon the whole, I wish the King may keep it, for it is a very fine and handsome garment.“

A gentleman in knee-length coat, long vest, and breeches, 1670. Source: Cunnington.

Fashion — even by royal decree — doesn’t change instantly, but after about 1670, petticoat breeches and short jackets were being replaced by the knee length coat, less voluminous breeches, and a waistcoat or vest that gradually got shorter — in relation to the coat — over the 18th century.

King Louis XIV and Family, painted in 1711. From Boucher: 20,000 Years of Fashion. The King’s vest matches his brown coat and breeches; the man at right wears a brocade vest with a red coat and matching red breeches.

“Attempts have been made to trace to Persia the origin of the coat which about 1670 ousted the short doublet from fashionable wardrobes. It is true that the first coats closely resembled the contemporary Persian garment, which in its turn had not changed much from the ancient Persian coat …. It is true also that Sir John Evelyn returned from Persia in 1666 enthusiastic about the native costume. (Pepys made an entry about it in that year.) Nevertheless it was four years after that date when the new garment actually replaced the short doublet at both French and English courts…. Be that as it may, here was a coat, and the history of masculine dress from that day to this is largely a record of the changes rung up on that essentially unchanged garment.” — Lucy Barton, Historic Costume for the Stage, page 276.

The progress of the three piece suit introduced by Charles II in 1666 is a gradual evolution. The vest gradually got shorter:

The vest or waistcoat of 1735 was still quite long, although not nearly as long as the coat. Cunnington.

This gentleman’s vest is still thigh length in 1785. (Boucher.)

During the French Revolution and the Directory, vests approached the waist. (Kybalova et al: Encyclopedie illustree du Costume and de la Mode.)

In the drawing above, the coat is cut away to show more of the legs — still in knee breeches. But the radical Revolutionaries were called the “sans culottes,” because they didn’t wear breeches. They wore long trousers (pantalons.)

A “sans culotte” revolutionary drawn in 1793. Note his wooden shoes, or “sabots.” Source: Kybalovna, et al.

An actor dressed as a revolutionary, dated 1792 by Kybalova.

The coat is cut away to show just a bit of vest (stopping at the waist) and to expose tight, pale-colored breeches. (Cunnington) This is the ancestor of the modern “White Tie and Tails” formal wear.

After the revolution, when there was once again a French court, a gentleman might wear knee breeches for formal occasions and pantalons for more casual dress.

Two gentlemen, circa 1810 1811, from Kybalova’s Enc. illustree du Costume. The vest/waistcoat at right just reaches the waist. The pantalons are very tight.

In this illustration from 1872, Charles Dickens (left) wears a short frock coat with a waistcoat of different fabric and long trousers. Benjamin Disraeli (right) is wearing a suit of “dittoes:” a three piece suit made from one fabric.

Victorian gentlemen. The “suit” could be all one fabric (right) or two or three different fabrics. 1872. Cunnington.

These suits from 1933 came with matching vests. Esquire magazine.

But, for less formal or country occasions, a contrasting vest could be worn:

Gray suit worn with contrasting vest. Esquire, April 1934.

The King of Denmark also wore a contrasting vest — in 1785. (Styles worn at royal courts tended to be slow to change. Knee breeches were still worn at the British court in the 1900s, as this cigarette card from 1911 shows.

Clothing actually worn by King Frederick of Denmark, 1785. From Boucher. (museum photo, Rosenborg Castle.)

There’s a very good article about King Charles II and the introduction of the “Persian vest” here.

Sources for images in this blog post: 

Francois Boucher: 20,000 Years of Fashion

Phyllis Cunnington: Costume in Pictures

Lucy Barton, Historic Costume for the Stage

Ludmila Kybalova et al, Encyclopedie illustree du Costume et de la Mode (1970)

Learning from Browsing at CoPA

One of 64,000 pattern images you can find online at the Commercial Pattern Archive.

I know I recommend the online Commercial Pattern Archive at University of Rhode Island too often, but it just keeps revealing new reasons to visit. (Online Inventory last time I checked: 64,681 sewing patterns; mostly 1840s through 1970s.)
I can’t link to CoPA images anymore, because users now need to create a login, but you just create a user ID name and a password, and log in to use a totally free website! I never get email from them.

Two Butterick patterns from February, 1922. Delineator.

I’ve been sorting through my Delineator photos from 1922, and happened to log in to CoPA to check construction details — not really expecting to find much. However, I found a surprisingly large number of Butterick patterns from 1922 archived — and that means images of both back and front of the pattern envelope. You can see the shape of the pattern pieces!

“Armistice” blouse 1922 pattern The Commercial Pattern Archive (CoPA) has put over 60,000 vintage patterns online.

If you are trying to replicate a vintage pattern, whether you use drafting or draping, seeing the shape of the original pieces is very helpful.  And if, like me, you have no intention of re-creating the pattern, (that used to be part of my job) you can still learn a lot about vintage clothing construction.

NOTE: The images from CoPA that I show here do not reflect the quality of CoPA images online.  Because I couldn’t download them directly, I printed them, scanned them, and put them into a “500 dpi on the longest side” format. Unfortunately, I scanned the prints at the “black & white” resolution instead of at the “photograph” resolution. Image quality was lost on my scanner, not CoPA’s.

This bad image is not what Butterick 4025 looks like at the CoPA site. (https://copa.apps.uri.edu/index.php)

Elastic in 1920’s garments

There was a time when I was suspicious of any so-called vintage 1920s’ garments that depended on elastic. That was just my ignorance, based on “book learning” and classroom generalizations. Once I started really paying attention to vintage pattern magazines and pattern envelopes, my mind opened a bit!

All of these 1922 patterns include casing for elastic at the (usually lowered) waist.

Tunic Blouse 3462

Butterick tunic blouse 3462 from Delineator, January 1922.

If you sew, you know that there is a lot of information on the pattern envelope that you won’t find in the pattern’s catalog description.

CoPA shows images from the front and back of the pattern envelope whenever possible. The version at top right shows the tunic with “cascades” at the sides.

Pattern 3462 included a variation with “cascade” panels on each side, and the information that the waist could have elastic.

I’m surprised that there is no elastic casing pattern included, but it was mentioned in Delineator magazine’s pattern description (January 1922, p. 26.)

Dress 3460

Butterick 3460, Delineator, January 1922, keeps its shape with elastic at the slightly dropped waist. (Left, a Spanish comb in her hair.)

The front of the pattern envelope, from the Commercial Pattern Archive.

“Ladies’ and Misses’ One-Piece Dress, “Closed at the Back, with or without Elastic in Casing at Low Waistline or Blouse Body Lining.”

The pattern pieces for Butterick 3460, from CoPA.

This detail shows an inside belt and length of elastic. It also reminds us that the 1920s’ blouson effect was sometimes achieved with an optional inner bodice lining. (With bust dart!)

Pattern description from Delineator, January 1922.

This simple dress was also illustrated with a matching cape:

Butterick dress 3460 with matching cape, Butterick 3589. Delineator, March 1922.

Coat 3594:  This coat, which I find bulky but oddly appealing, could be controlled with elastic at the waist:

Butterick coat 3594 is gigantic, but beautifully trimmed…. Delineator, March 1922.

Butterick coat 3594 in Delineator magazine illustrations.

The front of the pattern envelope. In the online CoPA archive, the image is much clearer (and they have several copies of this pattern!)

Pattern pieces from the envelope. CoPA will tell you how to print a larger image (See CoPA Help)

Rubber elastic tends to degrade faster than the other components of the garment, so the elastic itself may not be present in a vintage dress (or underwear.) But these patterns confirm its use.

I was surprised to see this “Armistice” blouse [Not what they were originally called] issued in 1922. It can have elastic in a casing at the waist:

The “Armistice blouse” was still available as a pattern in the 1920s. The center panel is the “vestee.”

Pattern pieces for Butterick 3672 from CoPA.

Searching CoPA for a specific pattern: “Search by Pattern Number”

After you create a log-in at CoPA, you can search for any pattern by number (e.g., type in “3672” and select “Butterick” from the pattern company pull-down list. Chose “Any” collection. Results will show you images and links to further information — including the date for every pattern they have!   Say you own Vogue 1556, by Yves St. Laurent? CoPA’s archive number will tell you it was issued in 1966. (If you have an approximate date, you can also date patterns which are not in the archive by finding where they would be in the company’s number sequence and checking their resemblance to other styles and envelopes from the same year….)

Browsing through a year or group of years: use “Complete Search”

Or you can click on “Complete Search” and search by year (or a period of several years, e.g. 1920 through 1926 — just hold down the shift key while selecting.) You can limit your search in many ways (e.g., “male” + “adult;” or  “1945” + “hat” +”McCall;” or “1877 + “Any”….)

One of hundreds of McCall patterns from the 1920s you can find at the Commercial Pattern Archive. McCall 5315 from 1928.

Trying CoPA: If you love a specific decade, start with one year (e.g., “1928” + “McCall”  + Collection: “Any”) By the mid-1920s, McCall pattern envelopes had beautiful, full color illustrations. New to CoPA? Start with McCall in the 1920s, or try McCall in 1958! Less well-known pattern companies are also well-represented. Scroll though the “Pattern Company” pull-down for Hollywood, Advance, La Moda, Pictorial Review, DuBarry, & dozens more.

TIP: Be sure you set the final category (Collection) to “Any” if you want to search the complete archive. Otherwise, you’ll miss some good stuff! Also, search more than one way. “Medical uniform” (Category: Garment) got 20 results; “Nurse uniform” (Category: Keyword) got 38. It’s not a complaint; just what happens when many people try to describe things for a spreadsheet.

Next: Pattern pieces for side drapes (“cascades”.)

The dress at right has a cascade at each side.

 

Arctic Down Quilted Victorian Petticoat by Booth & Fox

A quilted, down-filled petticoat made by Booth & Fox, English, late Victorian era.

For those who wonder how Victorians survived the winter in badly heated houses (or snowy streets,) this down-filled petticoat is one answer.
I don’t know how this red, Victorian, quilted down petticoat from England found its way to California.  This week I found the pictures I took of it many years ago, before it was sold, and discovered that its older sister is in the Costume Collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum!

Booth & Fox quilted petticoat, image courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum. This one is circa 186o.

I only photographed the one in California for inventory purposes, but even a low resolution picture is better than none.

The “California” petticoat has a shape that is less like a crinoline, with the rows of down starting lower, and a flat yoke and down-free area in front.

Note how the rows of quilting taper in at the sides.

Deduction: This petticoat is later than the one in the V&A Museum, since skirt fullness began moving toward the back in the late 1860s.

1868 fashion plate from the Tessa collection at Los Angeles Public Library.

The Cut site has a good view of the back of the petticoat in the V & A. Click here.

There are two of these petticoats in the John Bright Collection, also located in the U.K. Click the site’s + sign for Additional Images.

The label (see Additional Images) in the John Bright Collection is also located center front, and is easier to read than the one I photographed.

Booth & Fox’s Down Skirt label from a petticoat in the John Bright Collection. The company won medals in London, 1862, and Dublin, 1865. This petticoat apparently cost 14 shillings and sixpence.

The label for the “California” petticoat, enhanced for legibility. It has a patent number. Is it possible that it cost 2 pounds, 4 shillings and…  I don’t recognize the number that looks like a “t” ….

The labels say the filling on the petticoats is “warranted pure Arctic down.” Red underwear doesn’t really keep you warmer, although several collections have quilted Victorian petticoats in various shades and patterns of red calico. My search for “Booth & Fox” led to a Scottish museum site about red calico, like the fabrics used in these down-filled skirts.

In Yorkshire, The Quilt Museum has one. Click here.

I wonder if the person who bought the “California” collection knows that one of the earlier Arctic Down Skirts made by Booth & Fox sold at auction in 2009?

The hem on the one I photographed had been repaired in back. You can see that the lining was a solid red, rather than printed calico, and a tiny feather was peeking out.

The hem had been mended in back, where it was most likely to drag on the ground.

It would certainly keep you toasty-warm from knees to hem.

Post Script: I received several emails from Patrick Murphy that shed new light on the Both and Fox company. He wrote:

“I came across your item on the Booth and Fox Petticoat when I was looking for some other information on Booth and Fox. As I know nothing about fashion and felt the item is probably now defunct I did not post a response. However, I thought you might be interested to know that the petticoat in question probably did not come from England but, surprisingly, from Ireland! I have attached a (poor quality) article from 1892 which confirms that Booth and Fox was founded and based in Cork City, Ireland (which, of course, at that time was part of the United Kingdom). You can see that it specifically refers to the manufacture of ladies down underskirts. As the article shows, the company did have extensive “branch establishments” in England but manufacturing was done in Cork.

I suspect that the other sites you reference may also be unaware of the true provenance of their garments.

I have some interest in Booth and Fox as Adam Fox (who was married to Mary Booth! – and, admittedly, was English) lived in the house next to mine in Cork City in 1842!”

In a later mail, he sent a PDF of the original article, which appears to be from a Merchant Directory for the city of Cork. Click here for the link. Thank you, Mr.Murphy!

 

Binge-Watching The Pallisers: A Guilty Pleasure

From a late episode of The Pallisers, a 26 part TV series available on DVD. Picture copyright of BBC via the International Movie Database.

A Guilty Pleasure ….because I couldn’t watch just one!

I took a hard fall in September and wasn’t able to sit at a desk for several weeks. Fortunately, I had purchased the first six episodes of the 1974 BBC series The Pallisers and finally got around to watching them when I was spending my days in the recliner. After the first six, I definitely wanted more!

Thank heaven I eventually found the entire series on YouTube — all 26 glorious episodes.

If you want better picture quality, the 40th Anniversary reissued edition won’t fit in your Christmas stocking, but ask Santa, anyway. (Under $50 for over 20 hours of entertainment.)

It may take you a few episodes to get addicted to the plot; meanwhile the excellent costumes will keep you intrigued — although I was hooked by an early episode in which two horrible old Victorian ladies explain that, after her forced marriage produces an heir to the dukedom, a married woman is permitted to follow her own inclinations….

The novels on which the series is based cover several decades of fictionalized English history.  Anthony Trollope, who published them between 1864 and 1879, was as cynical about the workings of Parliament as he was about romance.

The costumes, therefore, progress from crinolines to bustles, and (surprisingly) through several pregnancies. Yes, the ladies have zippers down their backs — They are wearing costumes, and costumes are made to be re-used as rentals. But they are lavish and character oriented, as well as befitting a duchess and her circle of acquaintances. (And Susan Hampshire has always worn period costumes  — any period! — with complete naturalness.)  Raymond Hughes is the only costume designer credited. It was a massive undertaking.

Cover of the re-issued DVD series — 26 glorious episodes. Image copyright BBC and Acorn via Amazon.

Will passionate, romantic Cora give up the man she loves to marry the stiff, unemotional heir to a Dukedom, as their families have arranged? If so, will she be faithful? Will her husband survive a career in politics and marriage to Cora with his (and her) honor intact?

Can the son of an Irish country doctor afford to be a Member of Parliament — and how many women will be sacrificed to his ambition? (Money and Politics — still a timely topic! Ditto, Love and Loyalty.)

Will a slimy newspaper editor with political ambitions ruin men and women while paving his own way to power? (Long before the internet!)

Will the next set of costumes be even more lavish than the last?

I started watching for the costumes, and ended up unable to ration myself just one episode per day. (“I’ve been sitting her for three hours? even though I haven’t had dinner? How could I?”

But I regard those 20 hours in the recliner as time well spent. One quibble: not all the actresses were corseted properly. Nevertheless…. I loved it.

(P.S. I am walking normally now.)

French Lining

French lining pattern 6933 from Butterick. Delineator, June 1914, p. 74. It has princess seams and many neckline options.

As far as I can tell, a French lining is a closely fitting interior structure that is usually not the same shape as the finished garment we see. It is different from “flat lining,” or a “dropped in” lining shaped like the dress or skirt, or a coat lining that merely allows the coat to slide over other fabrics more easily.

“A French lining gives a perfection of fit that can be attained by no other means…. It makes an excellent foundation for the draped waists [blouses] now in vogue…. For stout figures a French lining is almost indispensable, and this design will prove most welcome, for it conforms to the newest lines. When made of thin material it may be used as a foundation for Summer dresses or waists, and when made of lawn or silk it is also an excellent foundation for the draped evening dresses now worn.” — Delineator, June 1914. p. 74

Delineator, June 1914, p. 74.

When you have a garment that is tightly fitted, “flat lining” [a lining whose pieces are the same shape as the fashion fabric and are sewed at the same time] will take some of the stress off the seams and the fashion fabric. But when you see a vintage garment that fits very closely in back, but appears to be loosely fitted in front, expect a French lining.

Inside this apparently loose-fitting bodice is a tight-fitting inner structure. Vintage garment.

This vintage bodice has no visible opening. The tight lining prevents “pull” on the fashion fabric’s concealed closure.

When you have a garment that is draped, or bloused, or which has complicated concealed closures, it will behave better with an invisible, body-hugging lining.

This vintage dress does not have a visible opening in front or down the back. It does not have a snap opening in the side seam.

How do you get into it?

Back of vintage lingerie dress. It doesn’t open down the back. Clue: There is a hook and eye closing on the left shoulder.

This sheer lingerie dress with a blouson top has a simple French lining made of net.

How do you get into this dress?

The bias cut lining, which takes the strain of the hooks and eyes, fastens at the center front.

The pattern for the inside of the dress is not the same shape as the pattern for the fashion layer. I would class this as a simple French lining.

The lining fastens at center front; the fashion fabric layer fastens with hooks and bars at the side and shoulder! The sleeves are attached to the French lining. The skirt opens at side front.

The “French Lining” pattern could be purchased separately, but was often included in a dress or blouse pattern.

The Commercial Pattern Archive has this Butterick pattern from 1914.

Butterick 7317; information from the pattern envelope, courtesy of CoPA (The Commercial Pattern Archive.) Notice how different the French lining pattern pieces (top center) are from the fashion fabric pieces (at the bottom.)

Left, the French lining is an 8 piece princess line pattern which fits closely to the body.

The French lining was meant to fit very tightly, and is the support for the fashion fabrics. It ensures that the weight of the dress is suspended from the shoulders, that the folds and blousing aren’t pulled out of place, and that the wearer always looks neat as a fashion plate. In No. 7317, the cross-over drape in front ties at center back.

Changing Body Shapes Seen in French Lining Patterns

These French lining patterns reflect the changing body shape as corsets changed.

1910: Butterick French lining pattern 3527, January 1910. Note the “sway back” shape caused by 1910 corsets. This princess seamed lining has 4 panels in front and 6 in back.

1914: Butterick French lining 6933 from June 1914. The lower bust and larger waist reflect a change in corset shape.

1917: Far right, French lining pattern 1042 from Ladies’ Home Journal, November 1917. The womanly torso is losing its curves.

1924: A French lining pattern from Butterick, July 1924. “…An excellent dress lining or… it can be used to cover a dress form.” It probably was intended for older or “stout” women, since 1920’s dresses were lighter and less structured than previous styles. It has a long, hip-length, waistless shape, like most Twenties’ dresses. Butterick 5361 came in sizes 32 to 48 bust.

French Lining Included in Patterns

The French lining is often based on a princess seamed pattern (like all of those above,) since this permits an extremely tight fit, perfectly contoured to the body. (A French lining also looks very much like the covering of a professional dressmaker’s mannequin.) When you are draping on a professional dress form, you can feel the underlying seams through your muslin — very handy for locating the exact bust point or side seam, or placing a dart.

Once the French lining was perfectly fitted to a woman’s body, she could also use it to figure out (Oops, accidental pun!) alterations to commercial patterns.

[I was taught to call an individually fitted basic pattern a “sloper;” they’re handy to have if you are making multiple costumes for the same actor — or several pairs of trousers for yourself! Fitting patterns are still sold.]

Butterick waist 6791; Delineator, April 1914.

Incredibly, the Commercial Pattern Archive at University of Rhode Island has the pattern for this waist! (If you just create a Log-in, you can use this wonderful site  — over 64,000 patterns and growing! — for free.) There’s always a link to CoPA in my “Sites with Great Information” sidebar.

Pattern pieces for Butterick 6791; Commercial Pattern Archive.

It’s no surprise that Butterick 7971 includes a French Lining.

You can almost guess from the illustrations which garments need a French lining: if you think, “That dress defies gravity! How can that be possible?” or “How did she get into that?” you are probably looking at a dress that has a French lining.

Fashion Plate, 1888-1889 from Metropolitan Museum Costume Plate collection. Below the wrapped outer bodice is a concealed side-front closing.

There are no visible openings on these late 1880’s dresses. Met Museum collection.

They definitely did not have a zipper down the back! A tight fit in back and a concealed opening usually means a French lining; you can probably deduce the rest….

Vintage garment with very full front. The lace was accented with large French knots. It does not have a visible opening in front or in back.

Butterick 3816, Delineator, May 1910.

Butterick 3816, May 1910. The gathers are stitched to the lining; they won’t slide around or come untucked, and the V’s in back and front will never gape.

Directoire Sleeves, 1929 and 1930

Butterick dress pattern 3196 from May, 1930; Delineator. The sleeves were a new style.

I was so fixated on waistlines rising and hemlines falling in the short time period 1929-1930 that I was overlooking other fashion changes. One is the short (i.e., mid-bicep length) or “one-quarter” sleeve (click here); another is the introduction of a short, puffy sleeve on dresses for adult women.

The dress on the right, Butterick 3141, has sheer sleeves which are smooth at the shoulder and puffed at the cuff. Delineator, April 1930.

These sleeves were sometimes described as “Directoire.”

Butterick 3227, from May, 1930. Delineator, p. 32. It was available in sizes for both teens and women.

“Directoire” refers to the period of French history called the Directory, which was brief: 1795 to 1799. It ended with the rise of Napoleon to political power. However, fashion vocabulary is often used very loosely. For many writers, “directoire” and “empire” are used interchangeably.

Portrait of Empress Josephine Bonaparte by Massot, 1812, courtesy of The Hermitage. To see the full painting, click here.

The gigantic painting of the Coronation of Napoleon, by Jacques-Louis David, shows Josephine and other ladies of the Imperial court wearing sleeves that are puffed at the shoulder as well as the cuff, but this may reflect an attempt to evoke earlier royal outfits, or as a result of the painting being completed in 1807, three years after the coronation took place (and seven years after the Directory ended.) By 1807, the trend for puffy gathered sleeves was in progress.

I recommend tiffanyslittleblog for excellent close-up views and identification of the characters in the painting. She shows a preliminary sketch of Josephine wearing sleeves that are puffed at the bottom, but not at the top, as well as a close-up of her coronation dress, for comparison. Napoleon’s sisters also wear puffed sleeves.

Which brings me back to the description of this image:

Butterick dress pattern 3196 from May, 1930; Delineator. The sleeve is “the Directoire pouf.”

American women were already wearing these sleeves, as seen in this advertisement which ran in April, 1930:

“Women of America” in an ad for Air-Way, April 1930.

It appears that the sleeve which is not noticeably gathered at the shoulder is closer to the original “directoire sleeve.”

English fashion plate dated 1796, courtesy of the Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum.

Another directoire sleeve from May 1930. Butterick 3231, for sizes 32 to 44. Delineator.

“The position of the high waistline depends on how you wear your belt.” For women who were reluctant to abandon the low waistline of the 1920s, some dresses were made without a waist seam.

This blouse, which could be made with long sleeves, still has a 1920’s silhouette — except for its sleeves. Butterick 3185 from April, 1930.

Because I grew up in the 1950s, I associate the puffy sleeve with dresses for little girls. This is how I was dressed for elementary school:

Dresses for little girls, Butterick Fashion News flyer, January 1951.

Older girls also wore puffy sleeves to school in the Fifties. BFN flyer, 1951. I remember a wearing a plaid dress with puffy sleeves in 1954.

However, except for “peasant” influenced smocked dresses, little girls didn’t usually wear puffed sleeves in the Nineteen Twenties.

1926 fashions for very young children. Delineator, September 1926.

Dresses for schoolgirls, May, 1926. Delineator. They do not have puffy sleeves.

I did find a few examples of puffed sleeves on girls’ dresses from the late 1920’s:

Puffed sleeves on a party dress for girls 8 to 15, from January 1928.

A 1920’s dress with puffed sleeves for a girl 6 to 10. January 1929, Delineator.

Nevertheless, the reintroduction of the puffed sleeve for women, teens, and little girls was called “new” in 1930.

The girl on the left has “quaint” “old-new” sleeves. Delineator, June 1930.

Even in 1930, puffed sleeves could be associated with youth.

The puff sleeved dress on the left is recommended for a sixteen year old. Butterick 3254, June 1930.

Another dress with directoire sleeves for young women. Butterick 3298, from July 1930.

The dress on the left is definitely for a teen rather than a sophisticated adult. Butterick 3202, May 1930.

This dress, Butterick 3120 from March 1930, is for teens 14 to 20. Delineator.

Right, Butterick 3572 from December 1930. “A frock from Kate Greenaway’s Almanac.” Kate Greenaway wrote picture books for children, often dressing them in  empire styles.

The alternate view shows dress 3572 made sleeveless.

This little flower girl definitely shows the Kate Greenaway influence:

An Empire dress for the flower girl at a wedding in September 1930 “makes her look like a miniature nineteenth century belle.” It wouldn’t look out of place at a wedding today.

But these sleeves were also worn by older members of the wedding:

From blouses to evening gowns, the “quaint” directoire sleeve made a modest appearance around 1930.

Blouse 3111, from March 1930, has short puffed sleeves –“very new and … having a tremendous vogue.” In sizes 32 to 44.

Butterick 3988 from September, 1931.

Puffed sleeves on a “simple frock” at a picnic; advertisement, July 1930.

Sleeve heads became enormous later in the thirties — especially after the 1932 movie Letty Lynton. Did their inflation start with these “quaint” styles from 1930?

Butterick Fashion News flyer, cover, May 1938.

Patterns of Fashion Book Series Continues!

Cover image from Barnes & Noble website.

Very welcome news to costumers is that the great Patterns of Fashion book series begun by Janet Arnold, who died in 1998,  is being continued. Arnold wrote three gridded pattern books, (Patterns of Fashion 1660 to 1860, Patterns of Fashion 1860 to 1940, and Patterns of Fashion 1560 to 1620, and I just received information from the Costumers’ Alliance about a British source that is continuing her work.

Jenny Tiramani, principal of the School of Historical Dress in London said:

“Please tell people that we have decided not to use a distributor or to put the book for sale on Amazon. They take too much money and we need the funds to keep the school going and to publish Patterns of Fashion 6 & 7 which are both already in the pipeline!

We will be selling the book ourselves from our School of Historical Dress webshop and will try to give a good price for those people buying the book in countries far flung from the UK.

[Patterns of Fashion] 5 is in China being printed next week and published 31st October. …We need all the publicity we can get as the publisher of all future volumes of the series!”
Please support this incredibly rare and precious resource, the School of Historical Dress!! Here is where you can find their web site.

Click here to find out about current and upcoming volumes of Patterns of Fashion, plus other relevant publications.

Mantua, Late 17th century, Collection of the Metropolitan Museum.

Other books include Seventeenth Century Women’s Dress Patterns (Vols. 1 & 2), and Waistcoats from the Hopkins Collection c. 1720-1950 “The waistcoats are shown with close-up details of its shape, construction and decoration, alongside images of people wearing similar styles from the same time period.” Janet Arnold’s other books are also available.

(One virtue of the Patterns of Fashion Series — aside from the meticulous research — is their large format: printed on extra wide paper, the scaled patterns are easy to refer to while you are working.)

Patterns of Fashion 4 covers body linens 1540 to 1660 — “the linen clothes that covered the body from the skin outwards. It contains 420 full colour portraits and photographs of details of garments in the explanatory section as well as scale patterns for linen clothing ranging from men’s shirts and women’s smocks, ruffs and bands to boot-hose and children’s stomachers.