We're so pleased to present Part 2 of a series by Twig + Tale team member and experimental archaeologist Lindsey Foster. Here, she reports on the progress of her latest time-travel sewing project - a Victorian-inspired ensemble made entirely using T+T patterns.
If you missed Part 1, Time Travelling with Twig + Tale - sewing historically-inspired garments with modern patterns - you can read it here.
Dear Reader;
I hope you are well and having a marvellous week. In my last letter, I wrote about the general plans I had formed for creating a Time Traveling ensemble that brought an 1860s aesthetic to some Twig + Tale patterns, and I am really happy with how things are coming together!
My plan was to make a Scenic Top, using the Sprig Pleated Sleeve Add-On and some applied cotton tape to evoke the classic blousewaist with with large, full bishop sleeves of the 1860s. I also wanted to make a Lorien Skirt, with both a fashion fabric layer and a built-in petticoat. I had plans for a Serendipity Bow to use as neckwear, and wanted to make Skirt Hikes as well as a nod to the sporty look of the mid-Victorian era.
Once I had a sketch of my design, I had a chance to go through my fabrics with meterage charts to solidify my plans.
I used a length of cotton shirting (that I suspect is a rayon blend) in a tartan pattern for the outer fashion fabric for my Lorien Skirt. I lengthened my pattern by about 3” to make it ankle length for me (I’m about 172cms or 5’8”). My tartan fashion fabric was fairly thin and fluid, and I wanted more body, opacity, and fullness without adding a second skirt. I also wanted to be careful to not add bulk at the waist. When cutting the petticoat layer, I simply did not lengthen the skirt panels the way I had for the outer fabric; I also cut it knee length, rather than calf length, as the ruffled flounce would add length to the finished skirt.
I did a bit of piecing to make the petticoat, as the single-sized duvet was one-sided and directional. In hindsight, I could have ignored the directional design of the embroidery and saved myself the effort of piecing the fabric altogether, but I realized this after I had already made several irreversible cuts. Oh well! The part of the petticoat anyone will see will be the ruffle flounce, and it rightfully steals the show. When I took the duvet apart, I saved the whole ruffle as well as the layer of beading lace that had covered the join between duvet and flounce. This ended up being about 6 metres or 6.5 yards–more than enough for a full petticoat flounce.
I followed the tutorial for the Lorien Skirt pretty much exactly. I made rouleau trim (my first time! I loved it!) and assembled the side-lacing version of the mid waistband. I inserted pockets using the teardrop shape opening into the tartan fashion fabric layer. However, once it came to attaching the skirt body to the waistband, I simply basted the top edge of the fashion fabric and petticoat of the skirt together. Treating them as one, I sewed them to the waistband— et voila!
My last touch of historicism for this skirt was to face and bind the hem. I did not follow the tutorial for this part. I have studied and made enough mid-Victorian garments to have done this more or less automatically. I tore strips of reproduction printed quilting cotton about 11.5cm/4.5 inches wide. I sewed them together in one long strip, and turned the top edge under about 7mm/ 1/4”. I then basted the lower edge of the skirt hem and facing, wrong sides together, around the diameter of the skirt. Then, working slowly and in sections, I smoothed the facing around the inside of the skirt, taking tiny tucks to help ease the straight strips of fabric around the curved hem. Once that was pinned, I hand-sewed the top edge of the facing to the inside of the skirt. Then, I folded my cotton tape in half, wrapped it around the hem to encase the raw edge, and sewed around the entirety of the hem. This gives my hem additional body, adds a pleasing, whimsical contrast to my tartan fabric when the skirt is hiked up, and serves as one last nod to historical garments which so often had faced hems to protect the valuable fashion fabrics from wear and weather.
I had the chance to eke out a new Epoch Tie-on Pocket as I put this ensemble together. While my Lorien skirt has pockets already, I intend to do some more leatherwork projects this year, including my Skirt Hikes and a belt to bear them. It occurred to me that having a pocket I can wear on belt loops would be absolutely perfect! I had some quilting cotton in an appropriately busy 1860s print that combines red and green (and black and yellow) but somehow manages not to be Christmassy! I found some green cotton/linen in my stash that was tightly woven enough to make for a good lining. I made the Tulip version of the pocket (but my interpretation has it coming out a bit more strawberry than tulip, don’t you think?) I absolutely love it. It’s so useful, and I love that it is basically two pockets in one! The pocket itself took me less than an hour from rummaging through my scrap bag to the final stitches. It's a fabulous stash buster, and I can’t wait to make a half dozen more!
When I was little, I used to stare out of the window of my parents’ car as we traveled to my grandparents’ farm in the Ozarks. As the trees and telephone poles and townships flashed past, I could see the smallest snapshots of the lives of other people just like me before the car rounded the bend in the road and trundled out of sight. I would imagine what it would be like to be a little girl my same age living in that house, attending that school. If that town square were my town square, where would my life take me? Would I feel different if I was someone else? Or would I always be myself? My thoughts would wander, and my questions meandered, too. What did that hillside look like before this highway? Before this town was built? Before people inhabited this patch of ground? I found it fascinating to watch and to wonder. And I still do.
Walking through an antique shop or a thrift store gives me the same experience. I find myself wondering about the items I’m perusing, how they were cherished, what they’d looked like in their prime. Each object tells a story, no matter how small. Sometimes I hesitate to use a pre-loved item I find in an op shop. But then, I think back to my T+T teammate Erica reminding me months ago that the op shop is often the object’s last stop before the landfill. I think about how the textile’s story gets to continue if I bring it home with me. Even if I repurpose it, even if I deconstruct it, it was made to be used and appreciated and to serve a purpose. I honor that purpose, its previous owner, and its future, when I incorporate it into my projects. Its story becomes mine, and my story becomes its. And that’s pretty special.
One of my favorite aspects of historical studies has been the chance to dig into the history of the mundane, boring, and “normal.” Historical hygiene, medicine, cookery, laundry are endlessly fascinating. The way people express themselves in letters and correspondence, the way they keep records of what is important to them, and the objects and artifacts of theirs that endure help us understand who and how they were when it was their turn. But these are’t just things viewable in museums and kept in archives. We carry them, imprint on them, and share in their stories, just as they become part of ours.
Until next time,
Xoxo
Lindsey
Read part 1 here: Planning an historically-inspired ensemble with modern patterns
Read part 3 here: The grand reveal of the final outfit
Find all of the patterns that Lindsey uses to create her historically-inspired outfit here.
