From the Archives: Regency Flower Ballgown for Felicity

This small regency gown was put together as a rather drastic holiday from reality during my final fortnight of grad school presentations. Unsurprisingly, is an unholy mess of bad construction decisions (and no lining under that crepe silk bodice? Really?!)

It gives me enormous happiness anyway. It was FUN.

(And hey, Felicity is the least prima-donna of my AG dolls. It’s Addy who has  standards for couture. Felicity will model anything.)

The Green Blob in the Fall: a 1790s gown goes on a progress

 

Last fall I went up to Reno.  I took the Green Blob with me to get some photos with the autumn color. High summer in Malta had required a fairly minimalist approach to 1790s chic, but the cool crisp weather of October was very suitable for a more decked-out formal approach!

 

 

I arrived just as the leaves were beginning to turn.  Every day while I was there, I would say "today?" and my Mother-in-law would say "Wait, wait - "
And then - two days before I flew home, she said "NOW." 
And I dressed, and we went - and there just aren't words.  It was magnificent.

 

 

The Green Blob was glorious! Everything was glorious!  I wasn't limited to traveling light and I brought along some of my carefully collected accessories - antique lace, vintage leather gloves, antique portrait brooch and a celluloid brisé fan. Instead of a large sash, this time I wore a simple tassel cord, tacked into place at the peak of the raised back waist.

 

Honestly, I swanked.

I also debuted my new wig - the classic "80s Boogie Babe,"  available on amazon and quite a lot of party store websites, and REMARKABLY good value for an over the top 1790s look. My mother in law and I did want over the top  - in fact, we were so enthusiastic that we layered two Boogie Babes on top of the other!

 

The result was possibly excessive. I mean, it wasn't excessive if the year was 1985, the genre was hair metal, the venue was Rio de Janeiro and you were Whitesnake,  but for a genteel jaunt through a golden fall in in the year 1797 when they hadn't yet invented hairspray or the ozone layer - possibly it was a little too much. Possibly.

Regretfully, perhaps, we came down on the side of restraint and I only wore one.  I did wind a purple lamé scarf from the actual 80s around my head, so I wasn't entirely bereft of a little rock chic. 

My jewelry was glorious as well - my necklace and my HONKING pearl earrings (honestly, I reckon I could indeed have worn the double-layered hair just to balance out these divine things) are both by Taylor of  Dames a la Mode. She is doing some wonderful 1790s stuff right now - and it is sized to work for both the late Georgian period and 1980s hair metal.

 

So there I was - decked, dressed, and deeply elegant - and the Autumn sun was pouring down and drenching the world in liquid gold -

 

Guess who stomped around like a pretty pretty princess?

Alice of Wonderland, Despoiler of Halloweens and Scourge of Cobwebs Everywhere

When you move to a new continent, your life seems to start over in all sorts of unexpected ways, and sewing tends to get shunted to the wayside. Last september, about when I was getting back into the swing of things, I suffered a nasty wrist injury that left me unable to do any sort of fine motor activity for almost a year, and right when i was recovered from that, we were buying and renovating an apartment, and instead of stitching, I was watching walls go up, and instead of choosing pretty fabrics, I was choosing paint colors and laying tiles. 
            Now the renovations are almost finished, and the boxes are being unpacked, and it's Halloween, so I'm sewing again.  
          I began sewing this dress a couple of years ago for an Alice of Wonderland party, but I never finished it. I was dressing as the titular Alice - a rather bashy, brutal sort of Alice, with a contract out on the head (complete with frozen glass eyes and a zipper to make a purse) of the Cheshire Cat. On the morning of the party, before the final seams were sewn, the party's hostess called in floods of tears.  She'd found her beloved cat Horse lying in the back garden, dead from a snake-bite.
            We were all shattered. My costume stayed unfinished. There are some things that nice people just don't do. 

Three years later, Alice of Wonderland, Cheshire Cat Hunter, received her last stitch.  And she was a most appropriately Halloween-y sort of costume - absolutely loaded with horror and dread, and the day after the party, in the cold light of morning, what fifteen assorted people cannot understand is how European Civilization survived half a millennium of hoopskirts. 

I couldn't pass a decorative cobweb without trying to take it away with me on my pink petticoat - as well as whatever the cobweb had been attached to, which was usually a chair, which meant that whoever was sitting on the chair came too.  I nearly took down the buffet when I swooped in gingerly for a pineapple kebab - the host had cleverly swapped out the tablecloth for more cobwebs, and when three people reached out to catch me, i found that the pork platter and a bowl of punch were strung out on a cobweb lead line, teetering on the brink of total party disaster.   
            I was banned from the living room the second time I passed the coffee table - my swinging skirts were setting glasses of punch flying. That second pass had taken out the refills of the ruins of the first, and as I fled, disgraced, the conversation turned from how the hostess had illegally given herself a bye into the semi-finals of the Pictionary tournament, and moved onto candles and farthingales and pocket-hoops and how on earth the Victorians had managed to survive the fashion for the bustle.  Those inventive Victorians had lit their houses with kerosene lamp and gas burners at the ends of clumsy rubber hoses. Swinging hoops are bad enough, but a bustle you can't see coming or going.
            I had fondly imagined that, musing so, the other guests would thank heaven for small mercies and call me back, but instead I was banished to the corner of the dining room and set counting the votes for the costume contest. The seal on my funk was set when I found that people had been writing opinions in the margins of their ballots - my Alice dress had narrowly missed out on the prize for "most genuinely  frightening costume" because people were worried that someone would have to present that prize to me in PERSON.

And the evening's true ignominy? The final seal and funk? 
Reader - it was MY party.

Fire and Ice: Part 5 - The Dress!!

I woke up on Saturday morning, took the bustle skirt off of Sally's shoulders and sighed hugely - the tapes were way too short and the apron attachment to cover the zipper at the central back looked absurd - it was far too small to be rucked up with tapes of its own.
            So I unpicked the tapes in the apron and lengthened everything by 100 percent.  It works.

The Dress looking Splendid:

Straight on:

Lots of sideways yumminess:

The dress has a couple of technical issues - the bodice tends to ride up and wrinkle- I thought about putting some heavy duty press-studs on the waistband but it became very puckery - a better solution would be a piece of fabric to go between my legs-  leotard style, but I didn't have time or appropriate materials, so I sewed myself into the dress and sailed grandly out of the house toward my ball.
            I'd bought face paints and found a lovely design that I planned to base my own on - but had an allergic reaction to the paints.  I began painting on the yellow undercoat and without any fanfare or preliminary itching, my eyes puffed up until I was squinting through bloodshot slits, and they began to weep - it was like Niagara. I jumped back into the shower and washed everything off, then proceeded to redo my face - conventionally.  With as much gold as I could convince to stay there.  It doesn't much show in the photos, but I was most impressively gilded.
            The bustle isn't perfect - the upper apron is too long and the whole bustle tends to slide sideways. I was mystified till I took the dress off after the party and found several pins still tucked into the lowest tier and tugging the whole assemblage off balance.
            On the whole, however, for the amount of fabric I had to play with - I'm very happy with how this gown has come out!
            In fact, my only genuine issues with the over-skirt stem from too much fabric - the little apron attachment needs shortening and the over-skirt is far too wide -it doesn't hold the gold underskirt tight enough and the whole assemblage blooms too wide. I need to unpick a few seams and lap the back apron further over the front so that it sits more neatly.

Here is an example of how the skirt is too wide, in contrast to how it should be:

I found my jewelry in a little store on Bloor street in Toronto a few years ago - the necklace was sold strung on a cord instead of a chain, and the earrings had long chains reaching up from the top of the flower and ending in little hooks that could be strung into your hair. A few days ago I replaced the cord with a chain, removed the chains from the earrings, and attached the tikka to the clasp of the necklace, so that it could dangle down between my shoulder blades. Very elegant!

I love the shoulder ruffle on my bodice - I wired the edges of the upper and lower sticky-out-y bits so that they'd stand up sharply. Unfortunately, this ruffled piece is NOT detachable from the dress - although I wised up when I got to the feathers. And after that, the waist ruffle that disguises where I took in the waistband. THAT little bit of yummy scrap-flower-craziness can be removed if I need to wash the skirt!

Shoulder ruffle:

Frost and fire!

Fire and Ice: Part 4 - Almost Done!

Ahem: The bodice is sewn, the underskirt is sewn, the overskirt is sewn - and only the underskirt still fits on Sally.

Sewing tapes into the skirt:

The finished over-skirt sitting on TOP of Sally:

 All I have left is a few fastenings - press studs and hooks and eyes and buttons.  And possibly something amusing for my hair.  Yesterday I went back to Spotlight for face paint and feathers, but the selection was non-existent - even by Spotlight standards.  A very sweet lady in a store uniform explained that the St Johns Ambulance was  holding a masquerade party that night- which explains why it looked as if the millinery section had been ravaged!  She kindly tracked down a carnival mask with a nice set of red feather biots glued to the top so that I could cannibalize it-

Let's see how it looks in the morning. 

Fire and Ice: Part 3. You learn something everyday…

And what I learned today is that two layers of Spotlight's most delicate white netting under a skirt and a) you get one nasty scratchy rash around your mid-section from the horrible plastic weave and b) you look pouffy enough for an Elizabethan faire. 

            Yikes.
            So - This is a blurry photo of me looking cranky after I discovered exactly how ridiculously large the skirt was. My sister says it looks as if my knees are eight and a half months pregnant.

 

 

 

 

Here's another photograph of the overblown skirt on Sally.

 

 

 

 

Therefore, ergo and quod erat demostratum, the skirt will be worn sans-petticoat.

Here is a really horrible blurry-mirror photo of the late 1930s look I'm going for.  My camera really doesn't like low-light situations, does it?  And it seems to be incredibly liberal about how it interprets low-light… sigh.

 

 

 

 

Fortunately, the lining of the skirt gives it enough body to hold up to the apron front.  The lame is too flimsy to stand up on its own, so I went to Spotlight and found some ice-white polyester duponi, which, while being a fabric of spectacularly nasty hand and shininess, looks positively classy in comparison to gold foil lame.  While the counter-lady was cutting my yardage she gave me a series of squinty looks and muttered dubiously about what an awful fabric it was.
Hharrumph.  Don't look at ME, lady.  This is the best your lovely shop had to offer.

Yesterday Mr Tabubil pinned the darts on the bodice while I was wearing it, and contrary to his worst expectations, he did NOT stab me and I did not bleed out through the fabric!  He doesn't believe it, but he's actually very good at this sort of thing.

The bodice is now finished, but because Incontinent Sally (my mannequin) is still a work in progress and does not yet match the measurements of my upper torso, you won't see any more photos of the bodice until I'm wearing it at the party.

Fire and Ice: Part 2

Yesterday's work, starting small:  here is the finished apron for the front - you can see how prettily the back apron will cover it at the sides.  (needs red velvet ribbon down that side seam.... Maybe after the party!)

Also the back "hide the center zipper" piece is done and trial -pinned.

I really love this purple sash -particularly the way the tasseled drapes hang down the back of the dress!  Pity about the color.  If only it were red.  Perhaps I can find some scarlet satin at some point.   I love the way the back of the skirt looks with the sash twisted like that!

Fire And Ice - Part I

Yesterday evening I was handed an invitation to a birthday party with a theme: Fire and Ice.

There's not much that's gold or white in my red-desert wardrobe, and I'm not one to dance all night dressed up in a pasteboard sun or a ski suit, and I'm up to my ears sewing presents for new babies of good friends, so I reckoned that I'd go to spotlight, pick up some shimmery white bits of fabric and a white wig and tart up a pair of jeans and a shirt to look like I was covered in frost.

            But THEN - I remembered the BALLGOWN.

            About a year ago, I ducked into the local thrift store looking for brass buttons and had an unexpected WOW moment - a very tall and very plump person had made herself an A-line ballgown skirt and scoop-necked blouse out of scarlet silk duponi - and donated it to the thrift store, who had priced it $5.

            I love this shop. I have an unexpected WOW moment there at least once a month.

So I pulled it out of the stash and cut it up and started draping it on Sally and - I think that this is it.

It's very Schiaparelli, isn't it? With the bustle and the pouter-pigeon front?

The flowery bits are the leftover scraps of silk roughly ruffled into flowers - I'll interleave them with gold scraps - all shreddy on the edges. 

            There's only one little hitch - the party is on SATURDAY.

            But I think I can pull it off.

It took half an hour to cut up the skirt and an hour to drape the dress. And it's DOABLE, If I don't care too much about the inside finishes, which I don't.

 

Schedule:

 

Tuesday - finish the damn elephants and sew up the red apron front.

Wednesday -  have Mr Tabubil help me pin up the bodice - and then sew it.

Thursday - Sew the bustle skirt back, and sew the apron front and the bustle back to the waistband of the original skirt.

Friday - Make the underskirt - which involves all of  one french seam to turn the gold into a cylinder, a rough hem (I wonder if I can leave a train at the back - or will I just rip it to shreds?) and three or four layers of stiff cream-colored net (a la Spotlight!) attached to an elastic waist band.

And maybe a bustle pad - we'll see. I rather like it the way it is, all flat and Schiaparelli 1939.

Then, lastly - use all the silk scraps to make ruffle-roses (predominantly red, with only touches of fraying gold poking out) to hide where I've had to shorten the waistband, and to tart up the rather dull neckline.

Currently the bodice is pinned so that the excess fabric flares out as panels on the outside. Should I seam them out or should I leave them like they are - to add a bit of fun?

Happily, the red silk over-skirt is exactly the same as the one I'd planned for my very-on-hold steampunk outfit, so on THAT, I'm getting back in the game. I started making the steampunk outfit 13 months ago, but tried to fake the 1880s with an A-line Vogue skirt pattern - and screwed up the corded petticoat and blue pinstripe underskirt so thoroughly that Mr Tabubil had a major giggle fit and sent me out to buy an actual pattern, which i did, but I'd sort of used up all my motivation, and the fabric migrated to the bottom of the stash, where it could live forever, I thought.

I may be wrong!