The Dissipated Grandma Sheep (Another Lappet Cap)

My first Mrs Sandby cap was far too respectable. 

 

I mean, no-one would go wooing a young maiden one morning in may in a cap like that. She might flirt coyly around her lappets, but her virtue is clearly linen-clad - and that is like iron-clad and only slightly more elastic. 

No-one, if you follow my meaning, would be stealing this milk-maid’s cheese. No indeed - lappet caps are inherently silly, and I have made that my hill on which to gather.

So I did. I recut the Mrs Sandby cap in white cotton voile, and then I gathered, and then I added lace, and then I gathered MORE, and only when it looked like a lacy nightmare in a boudoir, did i stop.

 

The tight u-bend around the lappet point took a few goes to get right.  Adding the lace to the edge of the ruffle extended its depth juuust enough that the regular gathering ration wasn’t quite enough - the ruffle spread out and turned inward like a concave cup.

I ended up sacrificing the gathers in the flat butt of the lappet, but in the end i got the u-bend to lie flat. JUST.

 

And I gathered and I gathered, 

 

until suddenly, well, golly gee - here’s an exuberant lappet cap hanging up to dry after the marking pen has been washed out!  Gosh it looks pretty like that.

 

And at last - may I present- the milkmaid's nightmare:

 

There is no universe in which this look has any dignity.

I look like a hydrangea bush.

I look like a pram in a paper-mâchié pantomime.

I look like a dissipated grandma sheep.

It is PERFECT.

 

Here be Oranges (and a Lappet Cap)

 

I took my new linen English gown for a spin, and accessorized it with a basket of oranges and my new Good Wives Linens lappet cap.

 

 

Oranges make a great photo prop - they don't shatter, crumple, wilt, bend or break - and you can take them home afterwards and make orange juice.

 

Short summary (because costuming takes a village):  

Lappet Cap pattern by Good Wives Linens, Basket woven locally and oranges sourced in the Terminal Agropecuario de Iquique.   Gown draped on me by Brooke Welborn and sewn from striped linen from Burnley and Trowbridge.  

Yes, I need to take the cuffs off and re-stitch them an inch lower on my elbow, but that is for another day. Today is for orange juice.

 

 

A Very Serious Lappet Cap

It is absolutely no secret that I love the cap patterns from Good Wives Linens.
They are well drafted, meticulously researched, easy to put together, and her pattern releases always seem to synchronize with the cap I'm personally wanting!

For example - I wanted a mid-18th century lappet cap, and Good Wives Linens released the Mrs Sandby cap.  Perfect synchronicity of purpose.

 

Caps are good late-evening sewing projects.  They don't have to be fitted, you hem all the bits individually, and do the whipping of gathers and assembly afterwards - proof against all fools but the ones who don't just sew at night, but do their measuring late at night as well. 

 

(That fool would be me, in case I'm being too subtle for you here. At least piecing is period, and "whack it off with scissors" solves everything.)

 

 

 Hemming (eventually, with pit stops for repairs) done, I whipped the ruffle to the band - 

 

 

and the band to the caul.

 

And then I had a cap.

 

 

And what a cap!

 

 

I look like I’ve been tossed, dressed and served up on a starched linen platter for the ecclesiastically discerning, but i am very VERY serious about it indeed.