A Lack of Progress.

Last weekend, just before painting the sewing room, my husband and I were talked into going to a flea market half an hour away, which resulted in spending *way* too much money. Some of it was stuff we actually needed, much was not. There was one guy who had a nice old Singer, which looked to be a Centennial model, much like one I used to have from the 1950s, but behind it was a jigsaw in a pretty pale green for $15. I think I got it for $12, actually. We now have a hedge trimmer for the overgrown bushes in the yard, a brass hurricane lantern without its globe, a silver filigree holder for a Russian tea cup, three cake pans that have a spinning slat to remove the WHOLE cake without leaving lumps behind, and -- best of all -- Charlotte Sometimes. I started reading it when I was in maybe third or fourth grade, but the very British terminology was a little beyond me, and I got frustrated halfway through, because I could not get through it as quickly as I would have liked. I've been looking through every used bookstore I went into since the late 90s, and there it was under two other boxes of books. I felt bad getting only a 50 cent book, so I also got a glass shoe that looks very 18th century, almost identical to one that had been my great grandmother's.

At home, while sewing, I discovered two things. First, buttonholers do not work on four layers of heavy twill, because there is not enough room for the fabric. Second, I was almost out of metal eyelets. While I could have done them all by hand, it;s for a Halloween costume, and I need to get going on the dress part, rather than being held up on the under layers. No one here carries two-part eyelets, either. So there are some that don't match, but the thing is mostly done now. Enough, at any rate, that I'm comfortable with trying the muslin over the stays and testing for fit. It looks like I won't have too much alteration to do, which is pretty awesome, actually. But I'm now out of machine needles, of course. The full pack I thought I had was actually leather needles, which won't work at all. So I'm kind of stuck until tomorrow, when I can go out and get more.

Sewing room!

I feel it is necessary to have a good place to sew, and the last attempt at a sewing room was far too small to work out even a little bit. So it will be the guest room instead, and people visiting will have to deal with the fact that I'm putting them up in a room that looks like a radioactive watermelon. They should be happy to have a cheap place to stay, and not mind pink doors and green walls!

Meet the new sewing room.

 It's one of the few rooms that hadn't yet been painted, and as you can see, it was a rather dingy shade of pink. This would not do. So we bought some pale green paint and I attacked it today.  The result?

It's pretty much the shade of pistachio pudding, which of course makes me a little hungry. The trim and doors will be a gloss white, and fortunately the ceiling was already flat white, as I could not find the ceiling paint that we'd got for the rest of the house. It looks so pretty now! I haven't worked out yet where I want to put everything, but it's a good start so far.

So here is yet another costume blog! the difference is, this one is mine, and maybe ut will help someone else in the same way all the others have helped me.

Let's start with an introduction. My name is Kit, and I've been sewing since I was five, and draping patterns since I was seven. Most of my tastes have been for historical things, generally ranging from the 14th century to the middle of the 20th. I also design, but haven't really been doing much of that lately. Currently, I work at Colonial Williamsburg in the Historic Area Sewing Room, which makes the clothes that are sold on Duke of Gloucester Street, AKA The Duke or Dog Street, in the historic shops. Most recently, I was asked to make one of the specialty gowns for the Mary Dickinson shop, which was a lot of fun.

The dress forms were all too big, so it had to be laid out on the table to get any kind of shot, as the hanger just looked BAD.














When I am at home, I'm still sewing, but not necessarily for the 18th century. My current projects (there's never just one) are a kind of generic Saxon gown for the Maryland Renaissance Festival, a Robe a la Anglaise for work (in case they send me to the Historic Area to work on hats -- it's been known to happen), and, most importantly, my Halloween costume.

This is from the Danish National Museum, I think? This is where I found it. Yes, there is a pattern there. No, I cannot read it, nor can anyone I know, but it looks pretty straightforward. I have enlarged it to roughly my dimensions, and as soon as the corset is done, I'll be fitting the lining. The outer is a black cotton sateen, fairly inexpensive, which is just what one wants from a Halloween fabric.  The trims will not be appropriate to the time period, but will be removable, so if I ever need to do something for the 1830s, I'll have this. And if not, well, I'll wear it to tea.







The corset is from a book called Corsets, It's corded with jute twine, which actually works pretty well, though I'm not sure what I'd going to do about a busk. There will be heavier bones at least in the back, possibly also in the front, just to be a little stiffer than the cords where it's needed. I'm told paint stirrers are good enough for the purpose. And if they break, the fabric is heavy enough that it should not be to bad until I have a chance to get it out ... hopefully. 

But good news for corsets when I want to be only somewhat accurate, but don't want to use those godawful metal eyelets! You know those nifty little button hole template machines that were sold in decades long past to fit onto machines that did only a straight stitch? There is a somewhat obscure template that fits into them that makes eyelets. They're not perfect, as the threads do not all radiate out as they should, but they are thread eyelets, and super fast, when you need that. I'll be trying them on this corset, and will tell you later how they turn out.