Historical Sew Fortnightly #8: By the Sea: 1860s Hat Veil of Spotted Net

The By the Sea challenge was indeed a challenge for me. I have no immediate use for any period swimwear, alas, and those projects aren't quick ones, either.  Additionally, I'm over 300 miles from the nearest sea; and there are no natural lakes in my entire state!  (Plenty of reservoirs for water, but nothing natural. Well, except for one, and it's on the border with Louisiana.)  In addition, the next challenge, Flora and Fauna, I planned a more ambitious project.  So like the collar for Accessorize, this challenge entrant is also relatively simple: a makeover of an 1860s hat veil.


Several years ago, I ordered a yard of English cotton bobbinette (fine hexagonal mesh) to make a couple of veils for my mother and I.  In Texas the sun's glare is unrelenting, and lasts about 8 months of the year, so it was a good opportunity for my first try at a veil.  I ordered one yard, and cut into half-yard lengths for two veils: 17" deep and about 40" wide.

The theory worked very well: Sun shade! Less squinting!  But the length tended to grab onto the shoulders of my dress.  I finished my mother's with ribbon, which both looked pretty and weighted down the hem.  So when pondering suitable accessories for a By the Sea challenge, I decided to remake my veil.  That meant doing some more serious research on them.

This is what happens when you bundle up a too-long veil to get it out of the way. Bad veil day!

Research

Mid-Victorian veils are hard to research; they are one of those things that everyone knew how and when to use, so they are rarely discussed in fashion magazines or shown in fashion plates.  However, I know they were typical for use when riding or traveling, to protect the face from sun, wind, dust and cinders, as well as for privacy or anonymity.  In many ways, they were to the mid-Victorians what sunglasses are to us today.  In color, black and white were the most common, with occasional mentions of blue, green, and brown.  Looking through a dark-colored mesh is very similar to using sunglasses.

June 1864

Another use for veils was for seaside wear, which is why I chose a veil for the By the Sea challenge.  A good number of summertime fashion plates in the 1850s and after show figures by the sea or lake, in brightly-colored and white ultra-fashionable outfits.  These are the "resort" fashions of 150 years ago.  Like sunglasses, a veil is ideal for these situations, which are are usually bright and breezy.

August, 1865

In museums, I mostly found bonnet veils.  Veils from the 1830s and 1840s are long and nearly square, and often made with big lace patterns.  50s and 60s bonnet veils are smaller, usually wide half-ovals, or occasionally distorted diamond shapes; the straight edge is pinned around the bonnet brim, so the curved edge falls more or less evenly.  These veils are machine-made of net, embroidered with wide lace patterns, borders, and "spots" and/or sprigs. Rectangular veils continued to be worn on bonnets as well, but the round shape was very popular and tended to survive. It's hard to re-purpose something like this:

source

Hats, defined as headwear with a brim all around, first re-appeared in fashion magazines in the 1840s, but remained very much a fringe headwear style until the mid-1860s.  Throughout the 1850s they tended to have large brims and be worn only in the "garden," or perhaps by the seaside.  Although still vastly outnumbered by bonnets, hats with smaller brims appear more commonly in photographs by the early 1860s.  They show up in fashion plates in all seasons and settings.  A handful of written fashion notes talk about both gauze and lace veils.

 August, 1862

But I needed specific information on hat veils, not veils in general.  What does a hat veil look like? Is it different from a bonnet veil?  Here are most of the examples I've found online in the last month or so.

source

Real Women
* Large veil draped on hat; visible only because of wide two-color border. This may be a very big round or half-circle veil pinned only to the front of the hat.
* Sheer veil, turned back over the hat. Looks to be unpatterned, with no visible lace or border, but the definition isn't good. It's not very long.
* Long sheer veil with woven ribbon borders. Looks rectangular, of a crisp fabric, gathered to the front of the hat and laid over the trim.
* Sheer, light-colored, all around the hat. May be either white or blue, because blue photographs light or white with period techniques. Appears to be about chin length; no pattern visible, but the quality of the scan is very low.
* Lace/net veil, at least halfway around the hat. About chin length, and attached at the base of the crown.
* Actual wartime photo, taken in camp. Looks dark, soft, and plain. The length is obscured, but it's hanging as if it does have some length; probably more than chin-length.
* All-over lace veil, shorter than the chin, all around the hat. Fixed to the hat over the front trim. Source from Germany.
* Lower right-hand corner: Long, sheer, with wide ribbon/woven border. 
* Long spotted veil with lace border. Probably worn over the front decoration.
* Long sheer veil, light-colored, with deep hem. Sheer, unpatterned, slightly shiny material.

source

Fashion Plates
* 1859, April. For riding. Green, plain woven, long.
* 1862, August. Black lace, just short of the chin; all around.
* 1863, January.  Long and white; plain woven.
* 1863, July. Black lace, about nose length. All around.
* 1863, September. For riding. Brown, plain woven, long.
* 1863, October. For traveling. Chin length, spotted veil with edging, semi-circle attached to front half of brim, possibly gathered at outside edge.
* 1864, June. Chin length, spotted veil with edging (lace or beads), all around.
* 1864, June. Long and rectangular, spotted with gold edging. Only in front.
* 1864, September. Black spotted net with what looks like beaded fringe. Short and shaped; front and sides only.
* 1865, July.  Long and white; spotted.
* 1865, August. For the seaside. Long and white, plain woven.
* 1865, August. Long and white; plain woven. Attached at the front.

source

A borderline "veil" that appeared in the 1850s (I didn't go further back than 1857) is a fringe of lace, usually black, running all around the brim of the hat. It is usually about 2" long, and I would consider it more a hat trim instead of a separate veil. It does not look easily removable as with regular veils. Most of the plates showing it are from the mid/late 1850s, but I still have two from 1862 and one from 1864. Nonetheless, I haven't found any actual photographs showing this type of veil or trim.

source

This isn't a large sample for research, so I'm leery of drawing any hard conclusions. Still, these seem to be the general types of hat veils:

*  Specialty: Riding (long and sheer, probably plain woven) or traveling (only one picture, but otherwise widely recommended in text, without much elaboration).
* All-over lace: Short to medium length, no longer than the chin.
* Spotted and/or edged: Medium length to long. Probably from the same net that lace is worked on.
* Plain: Long and square. Plain short hem, a deep hem, or with woven/applied ribbons at hem. Probably the ones called "gauze" in fashion magazines.

Original bonnet veil, collection of Pam Robles. Source

Verdict:  I didn't find evidence of a long, plain net veil. I found various medium-length and short net veils, and one long one, but they were all "spotted" with woven dots, sprigs, or rings, and edged with a woven-in or embroidered pattern, or with beaded or gilt fringe (from fashion magazines).

Obviously I don't have a machine for creating specially-made 1860s hat veils. :) So the next best solution was to create my own edging, or apply another one already made, and embroider my own dots. Fun!


The Challenge:  HSF #8, By the Sea

Fabric:  Black English cotton bobbinette from tutu.com

Pattern:  None. I looked at museum sites and pictures, and draped on my hat.

Year:  c. 1860-1864

Notions:  Black alençon lace, unknown content, probably synthetic. Lightweight black thread. Narrow black silk ribbon.

How historically accurate is it?  0% in one way of looking at it, because it's a hand-made approximation of something that was not made by hand.  But overall, maybe 75%, losing major points because of the lace. It also needs a lot more spots!

Hours to complete:  6.

First worn:  Just for some silly pictures, and briefly on the back porch to see how it behaves in a strong breeze. (Just fine!) I hope to take some real pictures once the Flora & Fauna challenge is done, however.

Total cost:  $7 for the lace, of which I used about $1/worth, and about $2.50 for the thread. This was a remake, though, and originally the bobbinette cost over $30/yd; now it's $40. I could get four veils this size out of a yard. So call it $12 for materials. If I started over, the cost for one would be close to $50. I could make 4 out of that amount, however.


Construction

I pinned up the veil on my hat to an approximate chin length, and double-checked to make sure it didn't feel silly. Well, super silly.



The pattern of spots took a little thinking. Most originals have a fairly tight pattern, but it would take a long time to embroider that much. Since I really want to get the Flora and Fauna challenge done on time, I just couldn't justify spending a lot of time on the veil. So I settled for a very wide apart pattern of plain dots, in a diamond pattern about 3" apart.  This pattern I can fill in at a future time, at 1.5", 1", or even .5" intervals. That would be very pretty.



Bobbinette is not nearly as slithery as some sheer fabrics, but it does stretch. Furthermore, it shrugs off chalk markings like nobody's business. The only way I could mark the spots was to put in pins and work directly on my cutting table.





The dots weren't very visible on the grid, but they show up better with white behind them. I kept them small, because I plan to add a lot more.




Eventually my back and neck sent urgent warnings, so I rearranged my work station. No more bending over! The dots were tedious, especially since I did have to keep within a pattern of the mesh, but they still went very fast individually.  When finished, I attached the lace, overlapping the net just slightly. It was unexpectedly tricky to attach the lace, because the net stretches and the lace doesn't.

I left the original sewn casing and ribbon. In the future I might tat, crochet, or net a fine row of beading to run the ribbon through, similar to original veils.

In these pictures I carefully pinned the veil to the edge of the brim, but I don't think I'll bother with that when I wear it. It's surprisingly difficult to do, and doesn't seem to be as common a way to attach the veil to a hat.

I like the effect when it's pulled back over the hat. A kind of graceful disorder. ;)

In this one, I tried putting it on just the front/sides of the brim.  In some ways it doesn't look different, and in others it looks silly. I think this method of attachment is best for one of the long veils.

Historical Sew Fortnightly #7: Accessorize: 1860s Embroidered & Edged Collar

I had big plans for this challenge. I've done 1860s reenacting for quite some a very long time, but my wardrobe is a bit scattered in completeness and accuracy. Take personal linens. I have a couple of chemisettes (one of which had a supporting role in The Paisley Pixie), one set of very plain undersleeves, a couple of plain collars, and one nicer collar that is in dire need of Oxy-Clean.

HSF #7, Accessorize, sounded like a great opportunity to fill in some gaps.  I decided I needed fancy undersleeves. 1860s undersleeves can be works of art, all fluffy, frilly, lacey, ribbon-y goodness. The problem was deciding exactly what design to make up or copy.

The HSF challenge has been very good for me in several ways. One way is how it forces me to make a decision and get moving.  When I don't have a close deadline, I will take a long time on deciding exactly what to make, and take lots of breaks during construction to research certain elements. (Like the issue I had with the pleat pattern on the back of the red wool dress.)  But when a countdown clock is ticking, whether for an event or a challenge, I'm forced to research quickly and efficiently.  In this case, however, costuming the early 1860s is where I have my personal* highest standards.  So not only are there literally thousands of inspiration images to choose from, I was more hyper than usual about choice of materials.

* Personal: Meaning these are my own standards for what I do, not for how I judge anyone else's work.

All that to say: I didn't start researching this until the first few days of the challenge. Once I found an image, I studied it a lot, asked for advice, studied more, played with my stash, and eventually had the world's ugliest mock-up and a decent pattern. By day 8.  Out of the remaining 6 days, 3 would be away from home and 1 was otherwise fully occupied.  I worked hard even on my trip, but I knew they wouldn't get done without an all-nighter. And that was not the point of the challenge.

So I didn't finish my undersleeves! But day 14, I came up with an alternativee plan that was way easier, fits both the challenge and another wardrobe gap, and goes with the undersleeves perfectly. A collar from the same fabric:



The Challenge:  HSF #7, Accessorize

Fabric:  Machine-embroidered sheer cotton, vintage curtains, from the Benbrook Antique Mall

Pattern:  Laughing Moon #111

Year:  c. 1860-1864

Notions:  Narrow cotton machine-made valenciennes lace; probably from an antique mall somewhere in Texas. 1/4" cotton "galon" twill tape from India; extra lightweight/thin, from ebay, the last the seller had.

How historically accurate is it?  As close to 100% as I can get without documenting lace or machine-made embroidery patterns. Bias tape was more common than twill tape in these collars, but it was used. Oh, and I used poly thread, because it's the only fine thread I have. Say 95%.

Hours to complete:  No more than 3.

First worn:  Not yet. Probably at Gettysburg in late June.

Total cost:  None, or pennies at most. The collar fabric was scraps from the undersleeves, and the lace and tape were bought for the stash.


With very few exceptions, no mid-19th-century dress was complete without a collar. In most cases they were finished with a bias or twill tape that was basted to the inside of the dress neckline, thus protecting the edge of the dress from oil and dirt.  Sometimes they were plain, but often they were of very fine fabrics, which could be embroidered and/or edged with lace, or completely of lace.  By the early 1860s they were also fairly narrow, 1 - 1.5" wide.  The width of a collar is an easy way to date an image, by the way; 15-20 years earlier, collars could be 3 - 4" wide.


With a basic bodice pattern, no separate collar pattern is usually needed. Except that I've had wretched luck with collars in the past, always ending up with them too short, or too long, or with the ends wonky, and always crooked when I baste them on.  My one success has come with the Laughing Moon pattern, which was recommended by a lady who had a business making beautiful and accurate 1860s clothing.  So I had no hesitation in pulling out this pattern and going for it.


Laying out the pattern was one of the trickiest parts. Like most sheers, the cotton was wiggly. And the embroidery was not done consistently with the grain. (Look at the first picture. See four dots on the left, and three on the right? I didn't even see that until I was nearly finished.)  Once I found a fairly pleasing position for the motifs, I pinned the pattern down. But instead of cutting, I traced around it.



It's easy to distort sheer fabrics when stitching on them. So I took a cue from 18th century embroidery techniques, and applied my embellishment before cutting out.



With fine thread, I sewed the lace down flat, just covering the cutting line.



I did the same with the galloon tape, sewing one edge to the collar about 1/4" (the seam allowance) away from the cutting edge.



I hope you can see how thin the tape is.



The tape stands up because it's a straight strip, being forced to fit a curve. This should allow it to fold under the neckline of the dress.



Then I carefully cut the collar out, roughly 1/8" from the stitching line of the tape...



... and underneath the lace.



Finished collar!



There are raw edges, but this type of collar is not intended to be washed roughly.  Before taking the pictures I hit it with spray starch and an iron.


More to come on the Saga of the Undersleeves! They may make an appearance as a later challenge.

Historical Sew Fortnightly #5: Peasants & Pioneers: 1860 Chemise Trimmed with Wavy Braid

This chemise began as a UFO from December. My whole family has been Civil War reenactors since the mid-1990s, so I made one of my new sisters-in-law some underthings to jump-start her wardrobe. Her birthday and Christmas are two days apart, so it worked out well to give a set. I passed on a corset that no longer fit me (newly washed, dyed, and flossed), and made a chemise and petticoat. Both garments were simple, and unadorned except for the "wavy braid."

Wavy braid was the mid-19th-century term for what we call rickrack.  It was used on some children's clothing, as well as on adult underthings and "linens" (collars, cuffs, and undersleeves).  Unlike dresses and outerwear, underthings were subjected to relatively frequent and tough laundering, involving bleach and boiling. Hence underthings tended to be fairly plain, or trimmed with sturdy things like self-fabric tucks and broderie anglaise.  Wavy braid is also an option.  It could be worked into lace-like designs, used as an insertion, or used as a pointed edging. (Read more about wavy braid here and other places on The Sewing Academy.)

One tiny shoulder seam, with felled seams and trim.

Some time ago, I commissioned an 1860s petticoat from Sarah Engelke, aka MsMcknittington.  She did an AMAZING job! Something like 20 tucks (I hate tucks, mostly because I'm lousy at them) in two sizes, hand gathered, and edged with wavy braid. I wore it at the DFWCG Costumers' Lost Weekend last summer, where I ended up showing it off when trying to explain my cage crinoline. ;) It's a lovely petticoat, and I definitely want more undies that match.

I still had a lot of wavy braid left.  I couldn't spend too much time on the undies for my sister-in-law, but the wavy braid with a fast, accurate, and cute way to trim them.  I fell for my own design, and went ahead and cut out a duplicate chemise for myself.  I had visions of working them in assembly line, but got in a crunch and didn't far past the cutting on mine.

After Christmas, the Historical Sew Fortnightly occurred, and I was swept into more urgent projects. I was at semi loose ends for Challenge #5, but the forlorn pile of pieces was calling and I can really use it at Gettysburg.

I am a perennial one-shoulder-chemise-wearer. I have no idea why.

This chemise is a simple design with no separate sleeve. It's more typical of post-1865 years, but the pattern was taken from an original with an 1850s date.  It is a simple flared shape with no gores or gussets. The yoke is a straight band with no shaping. The placket is a strap with a curved end, set in a slash in the front of the chemise.

I have no idea why my stitching ended up so crazy. At least it's secure!

 
 The seams are flat-felled to the outside to minimize any rubbing against the skin, and the wavy braid is applied as a point edging, sandwiched in the yoke, the plackets, and sleeve facings.

The fullness is controlled with stroked gathers. Stroked gathers are run by hand as in regular hand gathering, but when the threads are pulled up, each tiny gather/pleat is sewn individually to the band.

Why put a placket in a chemise? When wearing a low-necked gown, I can undo a few buttons and have a bigger neckline. Huzzah, no chemise peek!

The Challenge:  HSF #5, Peasants and Pioneers

Fabric:  Pimatex brand pima cotton; I get mine from Dharma Trading. Recommended here, among other places. It closely resembles the material used for many mid-century chemises, drawers, and petticoats. It is tightly-woven with a crisp hand, even after being washed, and takes liquid starch extremely well.

Pattern:  1850s chemise pattern diagram, from Hunnisett's Period Costume for Stage and Screen, taken from an original.

Year:  I will be wearing it in 1861-1865 settings, but it's appropriate for any time after the initial date for a decade or two. Chemise designs do not change quickly.

Notions:  100% cotton wavy braid (rickrack). White china buttons with a shiny finish.

How historically accurate is it?  Nearly 100%. All period and appropriate materials and techniques. Sewing machines were widely used in the period, particularly for visible sewing, and I adjusted the stitch length to be much shorter than modern usage.

Hours to complete:  12-15 hours. Construction was easy, and even the stroked gathers did not take long. (Of course, I also made them pretty big.) And I had already puzzled over doing the placket on my sister-in-law's chemise, so that problem was already solved.

First worn:  Just for the pictures. (It's a bit on the long side!)

Total cost:  I bought 20 yards of Pimatex years ago, intending it for undies; this used maybe $10's worth. The wavy braid is about 4 years old; I used about 50¢'s worth. 4 buttons maybe 5¢ apiece. (I bought a pound of assorted white china buttons on ebay 10 years ago and have barely made a dent. Let me know if you need some!) Call it $10.70 altogether.



 But what makes this chemise appropriate for the challenge?The text specifies:

As wonderful as making pretty, pretty princess dresses is, the vast majority of people have always been poor commoners, whether they were peasants working the land, servants in big houses, or (later), pioneers carving their own space in new lands. This fortnight let's make something that celebrates the common man.

This chemise isn't a peasant or pioneer garment per se. That is, it would be appropriate for, oh, 75% of the adult female population of the United States.  The fabric is pretty much perfect, the sewing is a mixture of hand and machine, and the buttons and trim are widely available.   That said, it does shade more toward the economic-conscious end of the spectrum instead of the fashion-conscious end. Why?

(1) Style.  This is a very simple style of chemise, with no separate sleeve, a simple band for a yoke, and a simple placket.  It's serviceable and pretty, but nothing fancy.

(2)  Work-saving.  The simplicity of cut and lack of time-intensive styling means it's practical as a home-made garment for a women with a lot of other work to do, or as a style produced for retail.  Many chemises (and chemise patterns in the fashion magazines) have a lot of tucks and hand-done embroidery. Those things take time. I did stroked gathers, but my gathers were large instead of miniscule.

(3) Cheap. The only supplies this chemise takes are fabric, a few buttons, and less than two yards of wavy braid.  A more elaborate chemise could have expensive broderie anglaise applied on it, in a more elaborate style requiring more inches of trim.

(4) Piecing. Did you see one of the places this chemise was pieced? It's actually pieced in two places. One is on the inside of the yoke, but the other is right down the center back.  Piecing is definitely a technique used by thrifty seamstresses throughout history.

The first place I pieced is adding a center back seam instead of cutting it on the fold.  Pimatex is wide enough for one and a half chemise bodies, so I cut out three fronts/backs and two halves. Two of the solid pieces went for my sister-in-law's chemise, so mine is one piece in front and two in back.

The other place I pieced is at the very end of one of the yoke bands.  One of my strips was 5" short,  Instead of cutting a whole new piece, I added on just enough to work, and used that strip as the inside facing.  It doesn't show and doesn't even feel.




So that's it another challenge for the books! And yay for getting my post up earlier!

Historical Sew Fortnightly #0: Starting Simple

Before I even considered taking up the challenge, I had accomplished a minor, but fiddly, annoying, and tedious alteration.  It is also very important, because without it a significant part of my sewing plans for the year would be shelved.  I had to alter my 1860s corset!



It's very nicely made, but over the year or two I've worn it, I realized that it was not only too short on top, it was too tight. Uncomfortable and unflattering. Instead of making a new corset entirely, I decided to alter it: adding gussets at the bust for more room, and adding a strip on the top to raise it appropriately.



Somehow I got the idea to cord the new gussets and the top strip. It added to the work, but I think it was a good move.  I didn't want to extend the boning casings and add longer steel, so the cording provides stiffening and a little more support. It also adds a little to the curve of the corset, which is nice! I sewed a large hook and eye to the top to keep the edges together.



Cording is a lot less common in corsets from the 1850s onward, but it still exists. For what it's worth, I based the angle of the cording off an 1830s one from the book Corsets.



This is the only picture you get of me in it. I had it on when I was drafting a new base bodice pattern, and snapped a picture when I realized how it looked even with a cardigan and sweatpants. It's a very bad photo, but hopefully it gets the effect across.




The Challenge:  HSF #0, Starting Simple

Fabric:  white cotton sateen

Pattern:  None. I free-handed the gusset shape and the top strip.

Year:  Appropriate for c. 1860 onward (originally the Laughing Moon Dore corset)

Notions:  Sugar 'n' Cream cotton yarn for cording

How historically accurate is it?  Well, I can definitely believe a woman in the 1860s would have remodeled an existing corset instead of having a new one made. And while most garments with existing alterations from the period are very skillfully done, there are others very sloppy indeed! So I used period techniques and made it work.

Hours to complete:  I wasn't really keeping track, since this was before I thought of the challenge. Maybe 12.

First worn:  Officially, not yet.

Total cost:  $3.00 for the Sugar 'n' Cream, which I somehow didn't have on hand. The sateen was from the stash.