The Pumpkin Dress - Florence, 1520

After four years in the DFW area, we finally made it down to The Scarborough Renaissance Faire in Waxahachie this year... and we did it in style!

Thank you for the picture, Andrea!

I knew it was going to be hot, but convinced that I would be happier going in garb, I decided to see what I could do with what I had on hand. I had some orange linen blend fabric left over from Mom's Age of Exploration unit, and some white muslin left over from another previous project. 

And the underdress? Well, if it's not quite right for the picture, then I'm not terribly concerned. You can't see much of the underdress in the paining for one, and then... well, it was the absolute first complete piece of SCA garb I ever made, sewn entirely by hand back in 2001. I'm just stoked it's survived this long - and that I can still wear it! I freshened it up with some new ribbon for the drawstring neckline and sleeves, and it was good to go!

In the end, I created a lovely linen dress from a measly three yards of linen, scrap muslin, and the three purchases I did have to make: 1/4 yard of black linen (for the big stripe and sash), 1 spool of linen weaving thread for weaving the thin stripe and top-stitching, and the black ribbon for lacing it up the back. 

Before the ball got rolling, I started clicking around on Pinterest to get some ideas, and my eyeballs screeched to a stop when I landed on this painting labeled, "Detail from Francesco Bacchiacca's Preaching of Saint John the Baptist, approx. 1520."

I Googled around, and discovered that it was supposed to be a Florentine design. Well, that cinched it. I adored the time Jake and I spent in Florence, and the idea that my dress design lived there hundreds of years ago was just too cool to pass up.

I allowed myself to get a little impatient with this project, and instead of following a pattern in greater detail, I just based the cut off another dress. I wish I had spent a little more time on it now, as the shoulders don't match the painting very well.

All the construction was done by hand, so turning it right side out at last was a treat. I do prefer flat construction whenever possible (remember my key-hole necklines and gore inserts?) and doing it this way allowed me to get a lot of precision in the cut of my wider black band around the neckline.

Finally, it came time to sew the straps together. I pulled one inside the other - wrong side out - and then matched up the black stripes as best as I could. There was a little adjustment to be made, but overall it went swimmingly!

After I connected the straps, I tackled the skirt section. I wanted to keep the two pieces apart as long as possible in order to reduce extra wear and handling. In this picture you can see the un-dyed linen thread I used to backstitch the seams. For the top-stitching, well, I went insane. I tried pulling threads from the edges of the fabric and using them for a perfect thread match. The idea is quite period, and maybe if this had been full linen instead of a linen blend I might have been more successful at it. As it was, many many... words of not-so-polite encouragement were hurled as the thread broke again... and again... and again. I managed to finish the back seam (the only one actually on the skirt) but then said "screw that!" and did the hem with some of my linen weaving thread.

In this picture, I'm pinning together the bodice and skirt sections. After the whole pulled thread fiasco, I felt the need for order. A lot of order. Guess my sign: Virgo!

Here you see the two sections combined, with the bodice's lining tucking away all the raw bits.

In the last picture, you saw the top of the back seam. Here's the bottom, with the hem. While it was a frustrating bit of business, I'm happy that it turned out so cleanly.

Once the two sections were together, it was time to add the narrow black band. The black linen fabric wasn't cooperating, so I got out my loom, rigid heddle, and black linen weaving thread to make my own. Not my favorite project, as it's hard to tell the threads apart, but it got the job done.

Finally, it was time for the eyelets. Not my favorite part, but hand-sewing them is much more period than the metal grommets you see so ubiquitously. At least it gave me a chance to use the bone awl I picked up in the outdoor market in Bologna!

Here's the back of the completed dress, with the underdress underneath. I ended up combining my favorite elements of the two main orange dresses, but I really like the black sash with it. Eventually I may try to figure out the tassels, but for right now it's working just fine.

Here's a better view of the dress. I love it!

At some point I may the black stripe around the bottom, but for right now it's a wonderful, wearable piece that makes me feel pretty!

Works Referenced:

Please note that this was intended as a heat-influenced homage and not an actual documentable piece. I did apply my knowledge of stitching types and lacing eyelets, but this owes too much to modern influences to be anything but that. Both the underdress and the overdress originated with commercial patterns.

Arnold, Janet. Patterns of Fashion: The Cut and Construction of Clothes for Men and Women c. 1560-1620. McMillan London Limited, Hong Kong: 1989. Figures 128, 137, 163, 163 and 164. (For eyelet/lacing details)

Crowfoot, Elisabeth, Frances Pritchard, and Kay Staniland. "Sewing Techniques and Tailoring." Museum of London: Textiles and Clothing c1150-1450. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge: 2002. Page 150-164.

Mom's Age of Exploration Series, Renaissance Male

My mother is a truly excellent teacher, and while she battles to keep Social Studies in the curriculum she has fantastic ways of getting her students interested in and curious about history. As part of that, she has asked me to help her with a two-week wardrobe of clothing that would have been worn during the Viking era and the Age of Exploration.

She already has garb for a Viking woman and a Renaissance Lady, so I decided to start with a male Renaissance look for her. I grabbed a couple commercial patterns, but did refer to Janet Arnold's Patterns of Fashion: The Cut and Construction of Clothes for Men and Women, c. 1560-1620 for inspiration.

Patterns used:

• Simplicity #4059: Renaissance Costume Collection (for doublet and shirt)
• Butterick #3072: Historical Costume (for pants)

When I started cutting out the pattern, I realized that the shirt was actually missing the collar pattern piece, and I was surprised as all get out when the people at Simplicity actually 1) responded to my email and 2) sent me a copy of the missing piece.

The first part of the project actually started with Mom and Nancy back home in Washington - apparently with the aid of much laughter they were able to make and send me a form. A couple pillow sacrifices later, and I now have a duct-tape mini-Mommy! It's good for hugs when I'm especially missing her.

Since she will be teaching in this, I decided to make this shirt collar as the pattern directed, instead of doing a separate ruff. I did add a bit more lace (okay, about double) what the pattern called for, but it's nice and fluffy!

Here's a close-up of one of the sleeves. I've tried to baste and gather before, like the pattern called for, but I always end up ripping it out and then pinning things in anyway. I think I have fabric control issues.

The finished shirt, complete with some lovely pewter buttons to close the sleeves. I'm actually quite impressed with how it turned out. I flat felled seams where I could, for extra stability and durability, and I think this is going to work well for her!

Next came the doublet. I did have to raise the neckline and add a collar for authenticity sake, and the duct-tape Mommy was invaluable for this. I actually ended up using the shirt collar as the basis for the doublet collar, and it worked very well. It allows the lace to show over the edge nicely.

I hand-sewed a silver trim onto the collar and all the tabs at the bottom. It took a little while, but I really liked the effect.

And, finally, we get to see the two pieces together!

Close-up of the tabs and sleeve. I went back, around, and sideways about eyelets vs. buttons before finally deciding on the less authentic eyelets.

Because she is not here to be fitted, we decided the eyelets would be more versatile. The duct-tape Mommy is great, but a lot more forgiving (and pliable) than a real person with flesh and bones.

At this point I was all done - except for the pants. For the life of me I couldn't find the Simplicity pattern (it fell behind the scrapbook tote) so I fell back on the Butterick pattern, which was eminently easier. I made them in a pretty green corduroy, but forgot to take pictures before I sent it off to Mom. Hopefully I can update with some pictures of her in the garb once it arrives.

All in all, I'm quite happy with how this project turned out, and I just hope Mom is going to feel the same way! We'll know in a couple days when it arrives in Washington!