HSM 2016 #1: Procrastination

I am the queen of procrastination. If you've been reading for a while, you may have noted mentions of sewing all-nighters, last-minute car-finishing, and general shenanigans in the "being done on time" department...so this challenge seemed perfect!

I decided to approach it as a double-whammy: when I made this 1890s ballgown the first time last January, I ended up rushing to have it wearable for the ball. In fact, I described it as the "murphy's law" of sewing plans! So even though I wore it to a ball, it wasn't actually completed--no hem, massive fit issues in the bodice, and no closures (a feature I am rather notorious for, unfortunately). So instead of storing it with my costumes, back into the UFO (unfinished object) pile it went...where it sat for a full year until this January, when with another ball approaching I needed to finish the job.

And I did!

this is the haughty expression of TRIUMPH

The Facts:

The Challenge: Procrastination

Material: many yards of royal blue poly velvet (dress), linen (lining)

Pattern: self-drafted but based on TV416 which I had recently fit (bodice), LM101 (skirt) altered to fit smoothly over the hips without darts

Year: 1890-1895

Notions: thread, rabbit fur trim, hook and eye tape

How historically accurate is it? Using Leimomi's litmus test of whether it would be recognizable in its own time, I'll say 70%. Obviously poly velvet isn't period (although silk velvet for ballgowns is), but fur trim is accurate, as are the general silhouette (hooray two petticoats!) and construction techniques. Plus, I wore it to a ball and danced in it--a very period accurate activity--and it moved comfortably through dances from the period, which I think is a pretty good litmus test as well.

Hours to complete: Oi vey. probably 4-6 hours to add closures, alter the bodice, and hem. Can't remember how long the original project took.

First worn: Fully completed, first worn to the Ball at the Winter Palace on January 9th.

Total cost: I believe approximately $50, although $10-20 of that was on rabbit fur trim, and most of that hasn't hit the dress yet. So in its current state, about $35.

with my white (faux)fur cape, an old but very useful item from 2011

on the balcony overlooking the ballroom

telling secrets and causing trouble!

a jolly party

Hooray for finishing UFOs!

The "Winter Princess" 1890s Ballgown

This weekend was the 1890s ball and skating outing with the Commonwealth Vintage Dancers, and I was really pleased to have my friend KP come visit to join me! Of course, that also meant I needed a new dress...

I'd been planning to make a new 1890s dress eventually anyways, because my butterfly dress has a lot of fit issues and I've had it for several years at this point. (Although I will admit the changes I made for a ball this summer--which I've never blogged about, bad blogger! but Quinn has, and it was also covered by Bill Cunningham, so you can spot me in group shots there--greatly improve my feelings about the dress.) Anyways, I'd been planning a new dress...but this ended up being sort of the "murphy's law" of sewing plans: first I had a business trip that put me behind on sewing projects for earlier in the month, then I got horridly ill, and then I was sitting in the ladies' dressing room sewing when I was supposed to be setting up refreshments. Whoops.

I didn't have time to go fabric shopping, so I used a blue velvet I had in my stash originally purchased for the 1870s dress I made at Christmas. It is gorgeous, plush stuff that looks quite bright in some light and quite dark in other light. Like magic! A friend also nabbed me some white rabbit fur trim, which is a fabulous contrast. Right now there's just a bit thrown on, but I have 16 1/2 yards of it, so that's coming! 

I knew I wanted to make a super classic 90s dress with big sleeves, because my butterfly dress doesn't have them. I drew inspiration from portraits of the Russian royal family as well as some of the dresses belonging to Empress Maria Fyodorovna. Here are some favorites:

engagement photo of Nicholas II and Alexandra, 1894: big sleeves, fur trim

portrait of Grand Duchess Elizabeth c.1890: dark with pale trim, lots of pearls

Portrait of Maria Fyodorovna, 1894: fur trim!

Purple velvet dress by House of Worth for Maria Fyodorovna, 1890s

Years ago I purchased 1890s skirt and bodice patterns from Laughing Moon Mercantile, but when I started working on this project I decided I didn't have time to make a toile (as it was already the week of the ball), and I knew the bodice pattern didn't fit me very well straight out of the envelope. Instead, I ended up using the 1875 bodice pattern from the Mother/Daughter Dress Project because I knew it fit well. I switched the closures from front to back, shortened the bodice to end at my natural waist, and raised the neckline up slightly on my shoulders. I did stick with the Laughing Moon 5 gore skirt pattern, but I re-curved the top of the panels to make it fit more snugly on my hips without losing the volume at the hem.

There are still some adjustments to make (a hem, for instance, would be good--this will get a stiff linen interfacing as well as a velvet facing to help keep the shape), but overall I'm happy with this. I definitely felt regal, so mission accomplished!

The 1890s ball was held at the Dane Estate, an absolutely lovely mansion just outside Boston. We had fun posing for pictures in its elegant rooms, but with all the crazy going on I completely forgot my camera. As a result, these were all taken on my phone. Apologies, but enjoy!

playing with the full length mirrors in the library

sitting in the round mezzanine between the first and second floors--sorry these are so grainy! My phone did not like the dark...

my friend in my ballgown. She looked lovely and it was nice to be able to make her feel like a princess.

As people post pictures of the ballroom I'll do another post!

All Dressed Up

Happy Halloween!

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, because it is practically the only day of the year when I am not the person on the subway wearing wacky clothes.  Hooray! Today I spotted a bumble-bee, a butterfly, and a cat riding the red line with me.
While Halloween as we know if today is unique, dressing up and dancing the night away is certainly nothing new.  In fact, I would love to attend a fancy dress ball!  Here is a description of one from Local Records: or, Historical Register of Remarkable Events, which have Occurred in Northumberland and Durham, Newcastle Upon Tyne, and Burwick Upon Tweed, published in 1833:

"A Subscription Fancy Ball took place in the assembly room Newcastle. The company formed a splendid many of them being very fancifully dressed and without masks They began to assemble about half past nine o clock, at ten the ball was led off...and was kept up with great until one when the company were ushered into the small room where an abundant and elegant cold collation was out...The viands confectionary and jellies were excellent, particularly latter which were most beautifully transparent. ...After supper dancing was resumed and kept up until a hour in the morning There were 212 ladies and gentlemen."

This entry is followed by a list of prominent locals and their costumes.  I've selected a few favorites:
Mr. Durham, a dalmatian
Miss Werge, a Scots girl (very neat)
Mr. Jackson, an old gentleman, from the time of Charles the First
Miss Ellison, Variella, in the Weathercock

Doesn't that sound like fun?  Something that I love about fancy dress costumes are also the way they maintain current fashions while giving the impression of the selected character or object.  While it's a little late to use these this year, in honor of the night here are some fabulous fancy dress ensembles.

Fancy Dress, 1911, at the Met

1890s

"cherry girl." a souvenir child's photo from a fancy-dress ball, 1880

"New Woman" fancy dress, 1896 from Fancy Dresses Described by Arden Holt

"The Hornet," from Fancy Dresses Described 1887

Spanish Fancy Dress, 1819, from La Belle Assemblee

"Photography," 1865, in the Musee Mccord

couples costume! Vikings, 1898 at the Musee Mccord

Fancy dress in Godey's, 1866

I could keep going, but I'll end here.  Enjoy, and have a wonderful day of dressing up!

Newport Part 6: 1890s Ball at Roger Williams Casino

Did you know that in the 1890s a casino was a public building, not a gambling hall?  I learned that at Newport, when we danced at the Roger Williams Casino, which was certainly not a place for poker.  Like a modern casino, however, it was certainly a place for bling.
We don't do 1890s very often (something I am hoping, however, will change now), so this dress was an exciting chance to be sparkly.  So naturally, we were.  My dress is not done, but considering it wasn't finished when I arrived at Newport, the fact that it was wearable by Friday was a great success.  The skirt and bodice are decorated with butterflies made of lace and rhinestones.  Someday they will also be outlined in sequins so that they pop a bit more.  While this dress still needs a lot of work, I was happy with it for the ball (and how swooshy the skirt was!), and the ball was a lot of fun.  Any ball where we are all wearing tiaras promises to be a good night.

Enough from me--I'll let the pictures say the rest.  Shiny!

people dancing in the upstairs ballroom

and taking a refreshments break downstairs

sometimes, we are not very good at being serious

Antonia lent me her ginormous feather boa to play with!

it is so fabulous.

Antonia was one of the boys

this is a terrible picture, and you can tell how sweaty and hot I was by the end of the night, but you can see the butterflies! they fly up the skirt to make an upside-down "V" with one on the bodice. 

Quinn and I take a casual posing break

and of course, we were silly! Here we are doing the "Zombie Cake Walk"

Whew! We made it!  That was the last Newport event.  It was an amazing week, full of gorgeous ballrooms, fabulous dresses, and a lot of dancing.  It would not have been the same without new friends, though! They were the best part.  I look forward to sewing and adventuring with them this year--and I'm actually off to do it today.

Vogue does An Overlap of High Fashion and My Fashion

The September issue of Vogue has a spread dedicated to Edith Wharton shot by photographer Annie Leibovitz on location at The Mount (Wharton's home in Lenox, MA).  As I am still dying to go tour the estate (but not until I finish the yachting costume I had to sideline for all of the August insanity) and am waaay behind on my Newport posts, I thought I would quickly share some pictures.

via Vogue.com

Those are some fabulous stairs.  The Mount was built by Edith at Teddy in 1902 and designed by Ogden Codman, jr., based on 17th century English estates.  Codman spent much of his youth in France before attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) in 1884.  He opened his first office in Boston before moving his base of operations to New York in 1893, which makes sense for someone in a business primarily funded by the wealthy elite.  Codman also opened an office in Newport, which is where he met Edith Wharton.  She hired him to redesign the interior of Land's End, her Newport home.

the sun room in Land's End, Newport

Wharton and Codman shared similar ideas of architecture and design, which lead Wharton to introduce Codman to Cornelius Vanderbilt, who commissioned the design of the second and third floors of The Breakers, his new Newport "cottage."  Wharton and Codman also co-authored a book on interior design called The Decoration of Houses in 1897. It was Wharton's first published book, although her stories and poems had been appearing in journals for years.

Safran Foer as Codman, far right (standing)

Ogden Codman, Jr. circa 1890

Although she left The Mount in 1911, Wharton retained a strong emotional attachment to the estate.  It was where she published her most famous (or infamous, I supposed, depending on your social position) novel, House of Mirth, and where she entertained many friends.  These guests included many artistic giants of the time, including artist Daniel Chester French and author Henry James.

artist Nate Lowman as French

  French, a sculptor, moved with his family to Concord, MA in 1867.  Daniel had been "whittling and carving things from wood and gypsum, and even from turnips, as many boys do" (May Alcott, a Memoir introduction by French).  His creations--such as bullfrogs out of turnips--lead to Daniel French's father to mention him to the community's artist, May Alcott.  (May, who deserves a post of her own someday, was the youngest sister of Louisa May Alcott, and the inspiration for the character of Amy in Louisa's novel Little Women.)  May gave French his first art lessons and encouraged him to pursue what he loved.

Daniel Chester French circa 1902

The larger-than-life statue of Lincoln in the Lincoln Memorial. Did you know it was done by French?

 

His studio and summer home, Chesterwood, is located in the Berkshires near The Mount.  While I don't know much about his relationship with Wharton, their shared love of horticulture is mentioned in French's wife's memoirs.  Given that they were neighbors and Mrs. French knew Edith, I think they probably at least knew each other.

Jeffrey Eugenides as Henry James, left

Henry James was born into the wealthy James family in New York and spent much of his early life alternating between Europe and America.  Perhaps I love him so dearly because is later works have been compared to impressionist paintings, which I also love, but really I think it is how well he captures the personality of a group of people as a unit.  My favorite of his novels, The Bostonians, does just that.  It's harsh, but I love it and I think much of his descriptions could still apply today.

James and Wharton met in the 1880s, but it wasn't until the early 20th century that they actually became friends.  While at first intimidated by the literary giant, James eventually became a literary adviser and close friend to Wharton.

Wharton and James on a motor tour in 1904 (in the back seat)

I might have to actually buy the September Vogue, just for this spread.  There are several more pictures, and a great Behind the Scenes piece, on the Vogue website.  I encourage you to check it out!  I think Wharton would have rather been portrayed by an author, but that's truly my only complaint.

One last thing: Leibovitz shot at The Mount previously as part of her photographic-journey-turned-coffee-table-book Pilgrimage, which I also recommend.  You can see the photographs on tour at the Concord Museum.

House of Mirth's Real Characters

Having just finished Edith Wharton's House of Mirth and in full Newport Dance Week panic mode, I am on a kick for Wharton's world of the New York social elite.  Dancing in the ballrooms of Newport definitely gives you an appreciation for Lily Bart's struggle to stay on the season's invitation list.  The social elite of the late 19th century have become the stuff of legend--have you ever heard the term "keeping up with the Joneses"?  Well, that phrase has been attributed to Mary and Rebecca Jones (incidentally, relations of Wharton) who scandalized mid-century New Yorkers by building their lavish apartments uptown, starting a trend for living in the 50s which became standard by the time new socialites started living around central park.

The fashionable "apartment" of John Jacob Astor an family (including Caroline Astor)
at 65th and 5th, facing central park

Another phrase you may know is "the 400," referring to the 400 families considered the 'inner circle' of New York society.  The list considered to be the original 400 was published in the New York Times by Ward McAllister (satirized as "Mc-A-List-er") circa 1892.  This was also supposed to be the invitation list to Caroline Astor's annual ball.  Mrs. William Backhouse Astor, Jr., later known as "the" Mrs. Astor, was considered the 'queen' of Manhattan society, and her famed annual ball was quite the event.  Until the mid 1890s the William Astors lived at 350 5th Avenue (torn down to become the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel) and the ballroom could 'only' accommodate 400 guests--the rumored origins of the 400 list.  Whether or not this is true is still under debate, but it fits well with the publications put forth by McAllister.

350 5th Avenue, home of Caroline Astor (foreground), 1893

Wharton captures the glamour and strife of living within the upper echelons of New York society quite well, and it's part of what makes her books so entertaining.  It's also what earned her a good amount of criticism from her acquaintances--especially surrounding House of Mirth.  After Newport, I guess my next stop will have to The Mount, Wharton's own estate...

The Mount, Wharton's estate in Lenox, MA

A Dress Worthy of Wharton

Literature has been a heavy influence on my sewing this summer, and my 1890s author of choice is Edith Wharton.  To be fair, Age of Innocence and House of Mirth both take place decades before (although written in the 20th century), but my association between Newport and the '90s means that in my head that is when they are set.
I need a new 1890s ballgown this summer (I am really starting to panic about my sewing), and while I certainly do not have the time to embroider as beautifully or as extensively as this original Worth gown, I am totally in love with the rhinestone butterflies.  Rhinestones I can do--I have, in fact, been known to attach them while in traffic on the way to an event--so the plan is to adapt the butterflies into a more finish-able format.  But really, I am also in love with the lace and the sleeves and the shape...the '90s say elegance beautifully, especially when done by Worth.

Worth butterfly gown, 1898 (Met Collection)

While reading Age of Innocence (for which, by the way, Wharton was the first female to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize) I was delighted by this quote about the etiquette of Worth dresses, which I thought I would share.


"In my youth...it was considered vulgar to dress in the newest fashions; and Amy Sillerton has always told me that in Boston the rule was to put away one'e Paris dresses for two years.  Old Mrs. Baxter Pennilow, who did everything handsomely, used to import twelve a year, two velvet, two satin, two silk, and the other six of poplin and the finest cashmere.  It was a standing order, and as she was ill for the two years before she died they found forty-eight Worth dresses that had never been taken out of tissue paper; and when the girls left off their mourning they were able to wear the first lot at the Symphony concerts without looking in advance of the fashion.'
'Ah, well, Boston is more conservative than New York; but I always think it's a safe rule for a lady to lay aside her French dresses for one season,' Mrs. Archer conceded." (p260)

Isn't that hilariously fabulous?  So really, all of Newport was actually a year or two behind the times...so I shouldn't really wear this dress until I attend a 1900 ball.  That's alright though, I think I fall into the 'vulgar young girls' being criticized here anyways--so I shall just be forward, and shiny!