Clever Quilting and Other Ingenious 18th Century Clothing Hacks

The upper classes may have been able to afford the nicest things in the finest materials, but even they at times found ways to be frugal with their attire. Take for example these quilted petticoats. They each exhibit signs of smart textile engineering through the additional fabric added as stripes. Petticoats like this, with their quilted material, would have been most popular in colder regions such as Sweden, England, and even the American colonies. The red one comes to us courtesy of Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia, and that orange band at the top no only lengthens the petticoat, but more to the point it provides a less bulky fabric that can be gathered to fit a small space like a corseted waist. If you try to sew a channel in quilted fabric you end up with something really thick that does not gather or pleated down smoothly. The other petticoat, with its wide white stripes on the yellow, is a way of extending a petticoat that otherwise would be too short so that the extending fabric becomes a feature rather than an eyesore. The quilting unifies the two areas so that they are taken as whole piece rather than cutting the figure.

It's also a nice contrast from the first image because it clearly shows the thick, difficult pleating that happens when this kind of fabric is gathered to a waistband. It's pretty bulky, comparatively-speaking. This one can be found at the Met in New York. I've known many reenactors to make their quilted petticoats out of old bedspreads, should you want to try it for yourself.

A slightly more hidden example of the ingenuity of our ancestors in this regard is in the interior linings of many a glorious sacque-backed gown (a.k.a. the robe a la francaise). One look at the inside of one of these beauties and you'll notice that not only does the lining not necessarily match the outer fabric at all, but that sometimes it is either taken from an earlier gown that is being cannibalized, or even many pieces from perhaps off-cuts of other projects. Piecing is period! For a truly wild and wonderful look at this in action you can head to the Met to see a French jacket of the last quarter of the 18th century (below) which has an abundance of different fabrics all used to make up one lining. I'd love to know if these were all from other garments in its owner's collection, or if they were cheap leftovers from the shop of the tailor or dressmaker who created it for the client. Personally, I think we should bring this idea back, for fashion, for sustainability, and for the good of all of our budgets!

Shopping the Museums

Every once in a while I like to do this; just "shop" around to all of the museums websites and put together an outfit that I know my historical counterpart would love. We'll start with the simple but lovely Gaulle, this one from Denmark has the light, ethereal feel I know I always associate with the style.







I think a colored sash is just the perfect accompaniment to the white of these gowns. How about one in the same bluish-green color as the sash worn by Mme Lavoisier in David's portrait of she and her husband?








Then maybe we could add a fichu, which would necessitate a fichu buckle, would it not? I just love this English one from LACMA, with it's rhinestones and pink swirl detail.







Of course no outfit is complete without a pair of stunning heels. These embroidered silk satin ones, again English and from the LACMA, will match perfectly down to the pink ribbon ties, and being c.1785 makes them appropriate for our current time period as well.

It would be inappropriate to go out without a hat, so I shall don this little old thing, maybe with a few flowers, but only after having my hair meticulously tended to. I need volume to offset the size of the hat and the narrowing silhouette of my gown.

Then there's just one more thing to grab before heading out; my bag! So what if it has someone else's name embroidered on it, this will be just the explosion of color that my subdued outfit needs.

Trivia Monday!

It seems that I may have stumped you all last week. The question was "What style of dress was inspired by Beaumarchais' Marriage of Figaro?"

The answer:- Deshabille a la Suzanne! Named for the character of Figaro's sweetheart (and eventual wife) in the play, it consisted of a fitted jacket (similar to a perault), skirt, white apron, and fichu. I would also have given credit for the Costume au Grand Figaro, which is mentioned in a Galerie des Modes fashion plate.

The play was first officially performed in April of 1784, and had been heavily censored due mostly to the challenge it presented to the social order. Nevertheless it quickly became exceptionally popular inspiring, not only the two styles mentioned above, but also the Chapeau a la Basile, trimmings a la Figaro, and a Chapeau a la Cherubin. It's success led Mozart to compose his operatic version in 1786.

And now for this week's trivia question:-

We all know that Marie Antoinett's morning routine was strictly regulated by court ettiquette, but she did get to choose her clothing for the day. A card with swatches of the fabric for each outfit were brought to her, and she would do what to indicate her choice?

Teaser- Stays

The ever-talented American Duchess, Lauren, is in the process of making a new pair of stays for me. I find stays to be one of those things that it's just better to have someone else do, in part because they are so time-consuming and also because it helps to have an outside perspective on something so close to one's own body. Photos do help though. These are the test stays, so there will be some alterations. The final version is in a soft yellow jacquard with a brighter yellow stomacher over which the center is laced in blue ribbon. Can't wait to see them!

The Countess' New Clothes 1

In August Olympe will travel to the capital, so if you've been following this diary you know that she is having new clothes made, and some old ones reworked. What you may not know is that in so far as is possible, the clothes really are being made.

I began with a chemise, 100% linen, cotton lace, satin ribbon, 100% handsewn. It has a wide square-cut neckline and 3/4 length tight sleeves, suitable for wearing under a robe a l'anglais or caraco or anything with the tight sleeves of the late 1770s and later. Two more chemises are in the works, these with the looser, gathered sleeves to the elbow, also in linen.

To follow there will be a quilted petticoat in cream satin with pink stitching and a deep pink ruffle at the hem. As well as a "Mantelet au lever de l'aurore", a dressing gown.

Fabric and trim for these last two projects is pictured here and is in shades of sage green, cream, champagne, and coral pink. I will post the design shortly.

Of course it won't end there. I'll follow with corsets, wigs, petticoats, hats, and whole new outfits. Stay tuned for more pics and progress!

Book Recommendation: Galerie des Modes

I couldn't recommend this book any more highly! Not only does it feature facsimiles of the real plates that were published in Paris over roughly a ten year span, but the additional information it provides is pretty comprehensive too. The plates in the book are but a sampling, and run from 1778-1787.

As with runway fashions today, I think it is important to note that these are ideas of what people were wearing, and often represent not only the highest classes of society, but also the most extravagant and unusual concoctions, designed to attract the attention (and sous) of the bourgeoisie and those outside of the capital.

In addition to stunning full-color replicas on each page with their original captions, there is a list of plates with translations (which seem accurate to me), and a glossary for when you need to know what a chapeau a la Grenade was, or where the redingote en backmann got its name.

It's enough to inspire any Countess, especially this one, to have some new clothes made!

Why all the pictures?

Why indeed!?

You may have noticed that at the start of each diary entry the picture is of some article of clothing, a full outfit, or an original painting from the 18th century. All of these date to the 1770s or early 1780s, in accordance with our year of 1779, so I like to think of them as what Olympe is either wearing or seeing in her world.

It is interesting to note the continued use of the robe a la francais, which was at the zenith of its popularity when Olympe was born, but which remained in use long after, especially for court occasions. Though supplanted by the more fitted robe a l'anglais, the francais could be easily looped up to convert it into the style of a polonaise, which was extremely popular in the 1770s. So when Olympe talks about having her dresses remade, this is exactly what she intends; for even the rich knew it was less-expensive to adapt clothing than to have all new ones made.

The whole idea of the blog is, after all, to get a better sense of what the life of someone in her position would have been like on a very personal level. There is a lot of research still to do, always, but I find that to be part of the fun!