Wednesday 29 April 2015

Thoughts on authenticity.

When I made my first historical garment, the medieval dress, back in 2012, I wasn't particularly fussed about authenticity. All I wanted was a dress with long, billowing sleeves, lots of lacing, and something that could have belonged in The Hobbit, or Robin Hood. In other words, a dress I'd wanted since I was little. I'd maybe put a little bit of research into what other people had done, but I really wasn't fussed. You only need look closely at the dress to spot the machined hem, the millions of machined button holes, and the bust darts!

I think that's because I was coming from more of a film/tv costume background. You see, I love films. Every element. The writing, the soundtrack, the cinematography. Then of course, there's the costumes. I grew up watching a lot of period dramas, and old movie musicals, and the things that would stay with me would often be the costumes. I always assumed that was the area I'd go into when I decided I wanted to pursue costume design as a career.

It was only once I really got into historical costuming that my intentions completely changed. I started looking at blogs, reading books, soaking up the silhouettes and looking a great deal into the undergarments of the times. I started striving for authenticity, still using modern patterns (as I couldn't afford the historical ones) but altering them to achieve the desired cut.

The problem I found with aiming for this level of authenticity, is that it was almost taking the joy out of putting myself into these garments I was creating. I would become obsessed with things like Edwardian fastenings and Regency trimmings, getting a little frustrated if there wasn't a blog post with the answer to the obscure question I was asking. I'd get a little lost, and talk myself into thinking that a certain fashion plate was the only thing people of that class would wear in that particular year.

But fashion plates were more or less the high end fashion magazines of their time, providing a look that people wouldn't often recreate for themselves, preferring to perhaps alter an existing gown to keep up with the latest styles. And I like to think that way, too.

When I was doing a bit of work experience at a fashion auction house in London at the start of the year, I came in contact with some antique gowns. They were mostly from about 1820-1870, and I tell you, childhood dreams came true! I was handling these beautiful Victorian gowns, and was able to take a close look at the construction work, as well as all the fastenings, and hidden pockets. It was actually quite an eye opener. I noticed that, so long as the dress looked correct once it was on, anything goes by way of how you actually get to that point. Things such as Edwardian collars wrapping all the way around the neck, and opening the front of the garment up in a zig zag like fashion, as the hooks and eyes were following the design. Evening gowns were more often than not simply thrown together, as you wouldn't be caught dead in the same dress twice in a row. People were creative. And it made me an awful lot more relaxed when it came to making my own historical garments.

I just wanted to share a few of my thoughts, as I haven't really done a post of this sort before.

Thursday 23 April 2015

A second spencer, finished.

As I was glancing over some previous blog posts, I realised that I never actually got round to posting photos of my finished spencer jacket. (Then of course, there's the entire Regency outfit that goes with it, but we'll save that for another time!)

You can read the work in progress post here, and I'll talk a little more about it as we go along, but without further ado...




Ta daaaa. It isn't based after an existing garment, nor a particular style from the Regency era. I was however aiming for an 1810 silhouette, with the design of, perhaps, more of an early 1800s jacket.

The fabric is a sort of wool/linen mix, not too heavy, but with a bit of body to it. It's actually quite ideal for a the simple, yet tailored spencer jacket I was looking to make. And it was given to me by a friend, and was therefore free! Bonus.




The jacket is fully lined with a lilac lining, excluding the collar, which is lined with a navy velvet to match the trim.




It was ridiculously difficult to get it to hang straight when on a hanger, and so I'm afraid I can only offer you a slightly wrinkled view of the back, but here you can see the classic Regency diamond cut, and the gathering of the sleeves. It also gives you a little glimpse at the inside, including the lining, facing, and fastenings.



The front closes with three hooks and eyes. I was originally going to have it fasten with buttons, but, as is so often the way, I ran out of time. This means that the jacket doesn't fit as snug as I had intended, but I don't think it turned out too badly!

It's trimmed with navy blue velvet ribbon in a somewhat military style across the front.




...and on the cuff, too.




Here, you can see how the jacket looks when being worn. Hobbes grew curious as I was taking the photos.





And, last but not least, when it's being worn by me, along with the rest of my Regency attire. 

More of that to come!