Cover it Dummy!

A few weeks ago, a friend off-loaded bunch of dummies on me from the attic of her museum. Score! These were not items from their collections, but rather old junk dummies that had once been used to display historic clothing.

They had spent a loooong time in the attic, and they were officially disgusting with dust and attic "gross." The two 1970s Acme dummies on the right reacted well to a good vacuuming and a light sponging, but the one on the left...

Well, that one is from the first two decades of the 20th century, without a doubt. It is paper mache (so no sponging), with a terrific turned wooden base. It appears to once have been covered by a knit black fabric, but no more. Dust is caked up on it. In short, it is really gross.

But nevertheless, it is a gem in disguise. Since it is from an era when corsets were still worn, it is a much better way to display my corsets than those straight figures of the modern dummies.

So, filled with envy for the magnificent dummies that Lace Embrace uses to display their corsets (at right), I set about covering this one to make it usable.


I started by draping acid-free batting over it (I am a museum nerd after all), snipping it to shape, stitching it down. White satin was draped over it next, cutting a (too big) hole for the neck and adding darts to fit it properly at the waist. All of this require a lot of pinning a smoothing a re-pinning.

From there I began hand stitching up the sides with a large needle (to avoid loosing it inside). Once I reached the armpit, the question of "what the hell do with armscye" became obvious.

This required some artful pleating around in a circle. I was thinking of doing it something like an upholstered chair arm or gathered pillow, though it came out a little more uneven than intended. I will cover the center with a button, and it should look a little more finished.

I still have to stitch down the darts along the bust and back and figure out what on earth to do about my gaping neck hole, but my attention had wandered again, and I haven't touched it in two weeks.

This week I am frantically getting ready for my next UnderWhere? lecture at work; this time it will feature fashions of the 1880s. It runs this weekend (March 27th and 28th), and I still have to finish a petticoat. This weekend I've already enlarged the bodice (I had a giant 4" gap where it wouldn't close over my bossom--that was a first for my sad little chest), made a new chemise with matching drawers, and made collar and cuffs out of fine white lawn (fabulous fabric from Farmhouse Fabrics, by the way. I recommend it). I also bought new high button shoes and net mits to compliment the outfit. Hopefully someone will be available to take pictures this weekend (and lace up my corset because ther is no way I cat get tight enough on my own).

My Masquerade: Part 3

It certainly took all the energy I (and my husband. and several friends) had to get ready for my 30th birthday masquerade, but it was well worth it in the end. Of the costumes there, I was proud to say I made four, and one young bride was wearing her SkyeLine wedding corset under 1993 prom dress (it made her bust look awesome).

Just a few photos of the action so you can see how it all came out.

1770s taffeta polonaise gown and Captain Morgan Pirate costume

both by me!

me with Ashley in the 1860s ball gown

The one on the right is a SkyeLine costume

Oh the dancing!

You know if Marie Antoinette had had beer pong, she totally would have played it!

I'm busting out!

Captain Morgan entertains the crowd with a few banjo rolls

With a neckline this open, your chest gets a little cold

What's a masquerade without the masks?

All in all, it was a perfect party, and I have decided to turn 30 again next year...

Under Where?

I try to be careful about separating my sewing from the museum I work in to avoid any possible conflicts of interest. But when my director started asking me to look for some sort of winter programming, I realized that it was much easier to do a lecture myself than it was to research other lecturers. And darn it all, if I'm going to give a lecture, it's going to have to be about what I know best--historic underwear.

So I gave the first of my UnderWhere? lectures at work today. They go chronologically, so today's was underwear in 1770, and I got to wear the big red gown again (3 times in one month--awesome!).

I have to admit to being a little anxious, despite studying historic Underwear for the past 10-12 years, it's only sensible that I got a little anxious when the people who make the museum repros for my museum came down to see my talk.

Perhaps it is a little odd that taking my clothes off in front of people doesn't make me worried. But the fact is, that an 18th century chemise is large enough to conceal a complete compliment of 21st century gym clothes, which is precisely what I wear underneath--that and I have no shame. :)

Once I was crammed into my gown (I have to tight lace because I made it too small--dummy) and people started filling up out lecture room, I felt pretty at ease though. There's something about wearing a really impressive costume that makes me just feel good.

So away I went, confidently declaring myself an expert and doing my best to stick to what I know (instead of giving into the temptation to meander off in conjecture) as I peeled off 11 costume items and explained each one. Just like the last time I did this program, my only problem turned out to be keeping it to just one hour.

Two more to go this winter: 1800 and 1880. The 1880 will be tough, but only because the gown is so F-ing tiny (I didn't make that one, I bought it second hand, which is why it is too small). At the 1880 session, I fully plan to get into corsets full-on though, because that is the era I kick ass at. If there's any way for me to weave in my graduate thesis on adolescent corsetry, you know I'll be all over that one too.

My Masquerade: Part 2

All of the major machine work is done on the dress now. I would like to add some furbellows (the ruffles along the neckline and gown opening), but will have to wait until some more crucial stuff is done on other costumes first. Plus, there is plenty of hand-work left.

My Masquerade

Turning 30 this month hasn't phased me a bit. Maybe that's because I've taken it as an excuse to throw an over-the-top, totally self-indulgent Masquerade Birthday Party in early January: I mean, masks and glitter and champagne and all. And let's not forget the magnificent costumes.

I had planned to make something extravagant for myself, but the truth is,most of my friends can't afford to go buying giant gowns on their own. Now I am not only making my own 18th century gown, but I am trying to assist a few other people in finding something to wear.

First came a good friend of mine from work. Using the old blue "Cornelia" skirt to start with, I whipped to together an 1860s gown.

Okay, so it's not quite finished yet. I still have to do all the finishing touches (boning channels and lacing holes), but here it is in its current state:

Funny story: I had a piece of fabric left over from making the original skirt, but when the bodice was all together and I put them both on my dummy, I realized that I had the wrong fabric! I had a similar, but not quite matching dark blue taffeta. Duh! The effect is not quite what I was going for, but it will be alright for the party. Maybe one of these days I will make a skirt actually matches.


My next challenge is my husband. This is always a challenge because I don't make a lot of men's clothes--nor do I have a man-dummy to use for photos. Since this costume still has a ways to go, I will leave it to your imagination until I am closer to done (yes, I know I only have two and half working weeks to finish it. Stop reminding me!)


My dress however has come together smoothly so far. I returned to my old favorite, the Mill Farm pattern. This s my third use of this pattern, and it works pretty well (although I always forget how much smaller than expected it is so this will be another tight-lacing event for me).



I want to make a voluminous impression so I started with a bustle pad from the Butterick pattern (don't try it; the instructions are lousy) so I could get this silhouette:

gown by Sharon Ann Burnston

I picked an iridescent taffeta, primarily because I would need a lot of it, it was historically appropriate, and I could get it for cheap. Let's just be honest about that. I found a good deal on eBay.

The fabric really does look stellar when the light glints off all of the gathers and pleats though, so once I get that Polonaise looped up, I should look awesome.

My favorite part thus far is the sleeves. I followed Mrs. Burnston's instructions for cutting around the pattern in the lace for the under ruffle to create a border patter. So easy, and so pretty, I feel like a smarty-pants! After studying my V&A 18th century book for sleeve ornamentation suggestions, it came out like this:

I still have a ways to go, but here is the current state of this gown.

Wish me luck on getting on everything done by the 9th. As usual, there is a strong chance that I have bitten off more than I can chew!

Flapper's Ball

After hemming and hawing, all 1920s gowns are done, the event is over, and I am relieved! I will definitely do more 1920s gowns in the future. Very fun and pretty easy (try that drafting system I mentioned before--it was great).

On a whim, I beaded my gown, which was time-consuming. But it came out alright. If I have time in the future, I will add more beads to the vertical lines along the side-seam. The 1920s gowns I looked at mostly seemed to favor this decorative element, an no wonder! It made the gown much more slimming.

Sadly, taking pictures in the dark was a little difficult. I will just have to say that the blur is intentionally artistic, right?

1920s Revival

With the big Flapper's Ball just around the corner, I have completed the silk charmuese '20s gown and have hastily moved on to a simpler one for myself. But despite the fact that it seems like I am in a constant hurry these days (again, I accuse the new house), I'd like to follow up on that first gown.

The last pictures I posted just showed six yards of fabric stretched out across my dining room floor. Well, somehow I did make it past that step and assembled the majority of the gown. The styles of the 1920s frequently depended on the quality of the fabric and ornamentation of the gown more than they did fancy cutting and piecing so the process took surprisingly little time.

As expected, my major time investments were in ironing out the rolled hem for the curvaceous edge of the flounces. I was ready to burn that silk charmuese! It was a battle the whole way around.

But the result was pretty and a little surprising. As I expected, during the first fitting, the flounces flowed like water every time the client took a step. I even forgave the silk for giving me such a hard time earlier.

I didn't photograph the fitting (to avoid making my dear friend uncomfortable), but I did snap a picture of it where it hung in my living room for a week while I built up the courage to attach the top flounce.

The armhole binding wasn't stitched down quite yet for this if you're wondering what is the deal with the shoulders.

The flounce took some courage and some thinking, but I finally laid the dress out on my dining room floor (I may actually regret it when I have to give up that precious floor space for a dining room table) and used a piece of marked cardboard as a ruler to get the height even all around. Then I nervously basted it together and hung it up to do a visual check before doing the permanent machine stitching.

There is no photograph of this dress finished yet because I was too excited to hand it over. Nevertheless, you can be sure that I will photograph the hell out of this dress once I am at the ball.



With just three weeks remaining to make something for myself, I also bought this pattern drafting book from an eBay store. It's a 1920s "pattern drafting system" that promised to take about an hour.

They had a fetish for this kind of machine-like efficiency in the early 20th century, and at only $14.95, I kept my expectations low.

However, I was pleased to find it effective, fast, and fairly flattering. It would have been much faster to make, but of course I couldn't just do it the easy way. I had to add tucks and then mess with the pleating on the hips. And now I am beading the damn thing (fool!). I'll post the story of this dress another day.

Empire Gown in a Hurry

At the last minute (as usual) I decided I needed an 1807-era servant dress for the Steamboat Bicentennial festival at work. I was lucky enough to have some gray check fabric laying around my studio (it belonged to a friend so I now owe her--oops!) so I set to work on a bib-front gown.

By combining the oft-used Folkwear pattern, scaled pattern in Janet Arnold's book, and images of the same dress in the Victoria & Albert's Nineteenth Century Fashion in Detail, I managed to whip up an acceptable bib-front dress in two nights. Yay me!

Yes, the bib is tied on the outside. I hemmed and hawed about this since the Janet Arnold gown shows it tied on the inside, but another gown from the V&A book shows it tied on the outside. Crap!

Well, this dress decided to drape better if I tied it on the outside. So the choice was made for me.

Sorry also about the lack of stays. I made the executive decision that as a servant, she could get away without stays--especially since I didn't have time to make another pair.

Since the first time I encountered this Gil Elvgren pinup, I have longed for a perfectly-striped dress.

And then of course, this pattern only made my longing worse, because there it is again in the corner: the perfectly-striped dress:

Okay, so despite being a painfully impatient person who finds it desperately dull to focus on the little details (oh! How I love the Big Picture!), I am going to try it.


I lucked into some black-and-white striped cotton last year at a Halloween sale (presumably everyone else made pirate stuff with it), and have just spent a lot of time painstakingly laying them out very straight and matched up. Ugh!

Of course, I learned some exciting lessons about this pattern last time I tried it (see the cherry dress below) so I've cut the thing down a bit, and we'll give it another shot... We'll see how it goes this time--stay with me, and wish me luck.

The Wedding Dress

There it is--my completed wedding dress. I'll post better pictures when they start rolling in (the only problem with getting married that you are too busy to take pictures yourself). But this thing was totally worth all the work and worry.

The dress itself probably only took me six hours at most and required five yards of silk taffeta from Denver Fabrics.com. The hand embroidery took a couple months and was done by one of my oldest friends. It's got a full circle skirt, halter neck with super-low back, covered buttons, and a green velveteen belt, and it was very fun to wear.

A suggestion to anyone considering getting married: wear a petticoat. Oh. My. God. It is so much fun to wave around when you dance!