Tried on the bodice with the Dickens skirt — works quite well! The one thing I was worried about (that the bodice is a little higher waisted) was no big deal. Though in the front, the skirting wrinkles a wee bit near the top third. Seems the cartridge-pleating is too bulky for the skirting, should
Took me about an hour to sew hooks (not eyes) on the sleeve holes (also put one last hook and eye on the bottom of the bodice edge, plus stitched down some sloppy skirting*). Then I tried it on so I could confirm sleeve placement and found that the hooks cut into my shoulders. Doh!
I’ve been hand-sewing since about 10am, with a couple breaks for breakfast, loads of coffee, and some chocolate. Not only do I still hate hand-sewing, but I’m beyond BORED of hand-sewing. It’s like watching paint dry. No, it’s like *making* paint dry. Omg, it is so BOOOOOOOORRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNG. I can’t believe how boring this much hand-sewing
Lesson Learned Yesterday: Make muslins out of fabrics more similar to the final weight of the garment fabric. Lesson Learned Today: Don’t cut fabric before you’ve had your morning coffee. It seems that a lot of the problem was that, while the previous muslin and pattern fit beautifully, a big reason that didn’t translate was
Sewing before noon, who’da thunk it? Doesn’t look like much yet, but I’m getting there. Interlined with black twill and the cotton lining is also sewn. I’ll bag-line it (one thing I am good at). The thing is at the point where I really need to try it on, but the house is too cold
My idea for recreating the Lettice Knollys sleeves isn’t panning out, and I’m thinking of ditching that concept for now in favor of something quicker that uses less fabric. I can futz with the Knollys sleeve later. I *need* to have a wearable Elizabethan gown by January 6th, no lie. Doesn’t have to be fancy,
I boned and bound the corset, gotta go pound grommets. If I’m very, very lucky, I might get to the farthingale tonight. Though I might risk it, skip that, and go straight to the sleeves, since I still need to tweak that pattern. Really, I can wing the skirts without the farthingale, even though it’s
Not perfect by a mile, but relatively tidy, and that’s all I really wanted: Folded the corners a bit better than before, still a little clunky (esp. on the inner corners), but miles better than by machine. However, I’m glad I did do it twice, because the machine stitching is much stronger than my hand-stitching,
2 hours later, I have bound the bottom inside of rencorset mark 3. By hand. Now I deserve an apple turnover and tea. Then bed!
Warning: Self-flagellation ahead, but warranted, I think you’ll agree after seeing the pix. I’m on take 3 of the ren corset. Take 2 is crumpled somewhere in a ball in the sewing room. I’d stuff it in the fireplace and burn it for warmth, but I’m concerned about adding particulates to the atmosphere. Coutil ash
Grrrr… my second renaissance corset SUCKED ASS. The tabs looked like mutilated little fingers. But they looked so nice on paper! So now I’ve wasted the last of my black coutil, phooey. I went back to the original pattern and drew out three basic square tabs on each side, following the image in the instructions.
I hath trekked all about south San Jose, and I hath procured many fyne stuffs for mine gowne of 1580s indeed forsooth perdee certize. Ehem. I took light rail to a bus down to Blossom Hill to the World’s Lamest Jo-Ann Fabrics. I thought the Jo-Ann on Stevens Creek was kinda weak, but omg, this
Jeebuz, but I keep buying stuff for this Elizabethan gown! I just can’t stop. Oh I need casings for my farthingale. Oh I need some really fine cotton stuff for a chemise. Oh I need some twill for interlining. Oh I need aglets for the sleeves. Oh I need eye pins for the hat trimming.
I’ve never scaled up a pattern from a book. This year, I made a point of acquiring all the biggies of the historical costuming library like Janet Arnold and Jean Hunnisett. They’re chock filled with patterns on teeny grids that you’re supposedly able to use. But how? Nobody would fill me in on that part.
Why is it that every time I’m sick at home, Anne of a Thousand Days is always on cable? Of course, I have to watch it. Richard Burton is a kingly, studly Henry, and the movie’s portrayal of Anne Boylen is smart and sympathetic without being too sentimental, even though it’s all a big fat