Winter Garments at Midsummer

In my recent recounting of the February expedition to Nestlenook, I mentioned that I wore a mix of old and new items. Even though we ended up planning the trip last minute and I didn't have a ton of time, I'd been thinking about skating clothes for years and was inspired to try and knock some garments out. And I did!

Though I do have a warm winter 1870s outfit (which I've worn on previous excursions), I wanted to do something with a more explicit skating theme, similar to these images:

Balmoral skirt advertisement, 1860s (via)

Jan. 1860 Harper's Weekly illustration of skating in Central Park, NYC (via)

Advert for a skating park in Philedelphia, circa 1860s (via)

Illustration of a lady ice skating with a support structure, 1867 (via)

The key elements that stuck with me when looking for inspiration were layers, gathered/bustled-up skirts exposing petticoats (but everything hitting above the ankle, where it would be out of the way for skating), and fur or knit trim on the coat or bodice. Also, all of my inspiration was 1860s...which makes sense, as I've spend a lot of time thinking about 1860s ice skating in particular while reading period letters over the years. So a vaguely 1860s ensemble it would be!

I thought I could get away with using the fur-trimmed bodice from my 1870s ensemble, worn with only the underskirt (looped up all the way around) if I added a contrasting petticoat underneath. Originally I planned to wear hoops as well, but when I decided to attempt throwing together a quilted petticoat I decided hoops didn't make sense.

Quilted petticoat c.1850-1875 (via)

Quilted petticoats were a common winter layer in the 18th and 19th centuries - while the style changed to support the popular silhouettes of particular decades, the basic premise remained the same. A skirt of wool, silk, or cotton was quilted over an inner layer of batting to provide warmth and insulation. Essentially, it's a wearable blanket. As an eternally cold human, I really wish these were still in fashion! If you poke around online, it's easy to find beautiful examples of quilted petticoats with all kinds of intricate quilting designs in addition to more utilitarian diamonds/straight lines. And while I really love the way they look, I just do not have the patience to hand quilt a piece this large. (See: the embroidered canezou I've been working on in fits and spurts since 2020.) But I wanted to be warm, and was interested in figuring out if I could do that historically, so I went for historical results and decidedly modern methods.

I found a lightweight cotton quilt with a pretty floral stitch pattern second hand that seemed like a perfect petticoat candidate. After a washing ("assisted" by a fluffy demon), I measured out the height I would need and cut the quilt down - I am in fact much shorter than a queen-sized bed. Then it was time to seam rip...and seam rip...and seam rip. I ripped all of the quilt stitching and cut the batting out of my "seam allowance" at each side where I would sew the quilt into a tube and at the top to give myself a lighter, unquilted section at the top of my hips (something I'd seen on originals). Then the quilt became a tube, and the tube became a skirt by attaching a deep cotton section to the top (so that the quilt started at my hips, rather than my waist).

That was as far as I got by trip day...as usual. I ended up throwing sewing materials into the car, and pleating the petticoat to the waistband on my friend's floor before we left. Then the waistband was added in the parlor of the inn where we stayed (with both of us sewing because I am slow). Onto my body it went, along with modern fleece leggings, tall historical wool stockings, a chemise, a corset, a modern thermal long underwear shirt (which I think is a not inaccurate as a layer), boots, and the "witch winter" velvet bodice and skirt. Layers don't have to be thick to keep you warm!

still perfectly mobile

I ended up borrowing a muff from a friend because I forgot mine at home, and I did put modern foot warmers in my boots after the sleigh (I have bad circulation and my toes were entirely numb). But aside from that, I was warm enough to survive an open sleigh ride! Which given we were sitting for a long time felt like a big achievement - ice skating, while incredibly fun, is pretty active so it's easier to be toasty.

The quilted petticoat provided a somewhat full shape, but isn't distinctly 1860s - since I think it's likely people in the 19th century continued to wear these kinds of practical garments for activities where fashion was less important, I'm ok with that. Overall, my approach of mish-mashing together items I already owned with new, stylish accessories felt like a very natural sort of way of ending up in an outfit. To me that's the difference between a "look" (as we might say in 2022) and real, lived-in clothes. So it works for me, even if I wasn't the most fashionably wide skater on the pond! 

(Although I probably was the widest skater on the pond...details. *waves hand*)

Speaking of fashionable accessories: I did make on of those as well. I knew I wanted to cover my head because that is a really solid approach to staying warm, and just as I was starting to think about how I would do so Vivien at Fresh Frippery posted a lovely convertible hood tutorial. Using her measurements as a guide, I was able to pull some checked brown wool and fur trim from the stash to put together a reasonable mid-century winter hood. And with the falling snow, I was so glad I had it!

an 1860s Harper's Bazaar page showing winter styles

making a silly face while testing fit 

also a fan of the rabbit fur trim

Altogether, I was immensely pleased with the ensemble!

Fast forward to late July...

I made it through a day of sleighs and skating and general snow shenanigans in my quilted petticoat. It was wearable! But it was not my finest work. When we got home, it went to the UFO pile to be fixed before it was put away...and remained there until last week, when I was inspired to write this post and wanted to finish the petticoat for real before blogging about it. 

the rushed and highly uneven waist as I wore it in February

Waistband removed, stitches picked, getting ironed for round two (plus a Drag Race cameo)

 I went back and removed the waistband and pulled out the pleats. After ironing everything, I measured and put in (more) evenly-spaced pleats. I even added closures! So now this is officially done and ready to be worn again.

closures!

And as a final fun fact (and ultra-throwback): in the spirit of trying to minimize how many new materials I buy, I was able to make both the hood and the petticoat using stash materials (minus the quilt itself, which I bought). The bright blue cotton at the top of the petticoat was left over from a 1950s prom dress I made way back in 2014! That means this cotton remnant has been with me through 3 moves - oi vey. I'm very glad I was able to find a great use for it, even if it won't be seen when the petticoat is worn.

In which I think fondly of freezing

One of the things I love about living in New England is experiencing four seasons - and complaining about them. There is something to love about every one, but it is also inevitable that after a month and a half or so of winter or summer I start to think longingly of the opposite meteorological experience. So now that we're settling into high summer and we're in the midst of a drought and a heatwave, please join me in reminiscing of snowy February, when my toes froze and staying warm was a top priority project.

In particular, last February I realized a childhood dream of going to Nestlenook Farm in historical clothes. Nestlenook is a Victorian-themed winter resort built during the Victoriana fad of the 1980-90s. As a kid, my family had a somewhat-annual tradition of going to an inn in New Hampshire during December or February school break to ski, snowshoe, ice skate, and generally do all the Winter Things. (Also outlet shopping...but that's less quaint.) Nestlenook was one of the places we would sometimes go on those trips, and the picturesque "historical" aesthetic spoke to my teenage costume-nerd heart.

the covered bridge we drive over to get to Nestlenook (internet photo, we were driving in the snow so did not stop for blog evidence!)

Friends and I have talked about going for years, but usually we're so busy, and good skating conditions so unpredictable, we never managed...until this year, when we somewhat last minute decided to go. We figured even if the weather wasn't great, we would enjoy getting away for the weekend in the bleakest month. 

The week of our trip, temperatures rose and the snow melted, and it looked like we wouldn't be able to actually do any winter activities...but then the day we left, the temperatures plummeted again, everything froze, and we even spent the day in light snowfall. We couldn't have asked for better weather!

I'm assuming our faces are because we were listening to a story from our obliging sleigh driver?

Our day consisted of a sleigh ride (on actual sleigh runners! not wheels! huzzah snow!) followed by hot chocolate, ice skating, and then dinner by the fire in the parlor of the inn. It was a lovely day! And then we went back for snow shoeing and more ice skating (in modern clothes) the next day because it was so nice to have such a large skating area! 

(Ok, that was a lot of exclamation points...but it was a really great weekend.)

I have a whole post coming about my clothes, which pulled from existing winter gear as well as a new hood and quilted petticoat. So for now, enjoy some photos of historical adventures in the snow. 

we were allowed to pet our valiant draft team after the sleigh ride

And in case anyone is wondering: I did not find it more difficult to skate in 1860s clothes (including a corset) than in modern clothes. I was able to bunny hop, skate on one leg, and spin just as well (or just as poorly) in historical garments as I can in modern ones. I just felt a lot more elegant!

An Alcott Research Roundup

A highlight of my winter was spending a couple of hours on Zoom with Jamie (an old friend) and Jill (a brand new friend), nerding out about research, historic house museums, 19th century fashion, and Alcott's novels. Today, some of that conversation will be appearing in season two of their fantastic podcast Let Genius Burn. In honor of that conversation, I wanted to revisit a few projects I've done over the years inspired by the Alcotts and/or Orchard House.

playing May Alcott or Ellen Emerson during the 2012 christmas program

Pickled Limes

In Little Women, Amy ends up in trouble at school because she brings pickled limes to class - something her teacher had banned because they were so popular and the girls kept trading them and not paying attention. I love historical food, so it's no wonder this has always stuck with me. But it's also such a familiar elementary school experience that it's just a favorite passage for me in general...maybe because I grew up in the era of pokemon cards and snap bracelets, both of which were banned in my own classrooms. (And which we also snuck in anyways!)

You can follow my research and experiments so far here. Plus, this one is ongoing! I'm about to start a new batch that will build on what I learned last time, and change some variables I didn't have a chance to try in 2020. 

Dancing in Little Women

My historical dance research is often driven by a specific reference from 19th century letters, journals, or novels - I love digging into what a dance mentioned by name might have looked like in the ballroom. And having spent so much time with the Alcotts and their friends, I reference their writings a lot when doing dance research! A few years ago I spent some time diving into Little Women specifically to explore what dances are mentioned, and how they fit into the story. 

Orchard House Centennial Lemon Coconut Pie

This is an oldie (and unfortunately the image seems to have gone away), but delicious! I worked at Orchard House during the museum's centennial in 2012, and shared this recipe (which I brought to share) from the year of the museum's opening.

And yes: it was very weird to be at the house in a time period other than 1860s!

Germans and Rose in Bloom

Many of Alcott's novels mention dancing - not just Little Women! Eight Cousins and the sequel Rose in Bloom are actually my favorite of Alcott's childrens' novels, so I tend to think about them a lot. I referenced a particular section of Rose in Bloom that discusses "germans" after we had one of our own.

Other Topics

In addition to the truly Alcott-themed posts above, my 1860s dress posts touch on different facets of Boston in the 1860s that overlap with when the Alcotts lived here. A few of particular interest might be:

• Mount Auburn Cemetery and the Rise of Rural Cemeteries 
• 1860s morning robe and New England cotton manufacturing
• Transformation dresses (robe a la transformation) 
• Chemical dyes and bright colors

Thanks for stopping by! Putting this together was a walk through the last 10 years of historically-inspired adventures, and I look forward to sharing many more.

A Little Photoshop Entertainment

 We went on a castle adventure, so there had to be magic.

In high school I took photoshop (I'm not sure if this counted as an art class, or a technology class?), and loved learning effects that let me zhoosh photos into something a little more otherworldly. I don't play with it often, but I still really enjoy photography and the editing process.

Do I really need to hone my patronus-conjuring skills? No. But adding to or drastically altering photographs pushes me to consider the composition, light, and color balance because all of those come into play. So I think it helps keep my eye sharp for future photoshoots even if they don't require magic!

Since I'm still in a non-sewing, too-drained-to-finish-that-dance-research-post transition, I thought I would share a few of my attempts. 

In addition to the patronus above, I gave myself a wand...

...and an owl.

It's a different kind of creativity, but it's nice to mix it up every once in a while!

The Return of Witch Winter: A Journey to Bancroft's Castle

At the moment I'm sitting on the floor of a hotel room trying to coax my cat to come out from under the radiator...so I figured I would entertain myself (and hopefully all of you) with a sequel to a 2019 undertaking. (Thus the very extra title. I am amused at least!)

A pact, some magically perfect weather, and the ruins of a stone castle hunting lodge - definitely the tagline to a movie right? 

Not a movie, but a very good adventure, which is better I think.

The prologue:

Several years ago, a friend made a Hufflepuff bustle ballgown, and as I was doing research to make my own 1870s ballgown I started noticing green dresses with gray trim popping up quite frequently in fashion plates. As a Slytherin I'm partial to this combo anyways, and with Emma's dress on the brain I decided I wanted my own house bustle dress. But I also got my heart stuck on doing a velvet and fur ensemble, which....doesn't really lend itself to a ballgown. So instead I abandoned the ballgown idea, and decided that I would make a winter dress at a later time. 

That time became winter 2019, (aka "witch winter" because I was also on a bit of a witch-based novel kick at the time). I finished the project in March, which was too late to go skating or have enough snow for good photos. Then late 2019 into early 2020 was insanely busy and I was travelling, and I didn't have time to do a photoshoot. And by the time I was grounded, the snow was gone again.

Cue the pact. Quinn at The Quintessential Clothes Pen had also recently completed a wintery bustle ensemble, and needed photos as well. So with lockdown keeping our weekends very free, we vowed that the next weekend when there was good snow for photos, we would do a photoshoot. We actually scouted locations in advance (it was nice to get out and do some hiking), so we knew exactly where we wanted to go: Bancroft's Castle, a 20th century estate-turned sanitarium-turned hunting lodge that burned down in 1932 and is now public land. (And an off-topic fun fact: if you hike up to the castle and look out over Gibbet Hill, it may look familiar...because it was one of the filming locations in the 2019 Little Women movie.)

The Adventure:

During the week it snowed, and Saturday dawned crisp and clear. It was a perfect New England winter day, with bright sun and low temperatures, and I was totally warm! Between the cotton velvet, flannel interlining, and silk lining, I was plenty toasty. The only cold part of me was my hands, but I have notoriously bad circulation and that happens in modern clothing too.

(I did cheat and wear modern snow boots, because we were hiking up a hill and I honestly didn't want to get my historical shoes dirty.)

This was essentially the first outing for this outfit, and it was so fun to get to finally wear it!

We had a lot of fun playing with the angles of the archways and the modern wrought iron railings. With the weather so cold, we had the place to ourselves which was lucky but perhaps not surprising.

I also got to put the pockets in the underskirt to good use - they were great places to stash a cell phone, lens cap, and mask.

My hair was a bit of an undertaking, but I'm happy with the way it came out! Since my hair is naturally very curly, I can usually tuck the ends around false braids to make them blend in. But I dyed my hair purple this year! From the front, you can't tell and everything blends - from the back it's a little more obvious what's actually my hair and what's not. Oops. 

The hat is a very old purchase from a sutler at a reenactment when I was in high school or just after. Since it doesn't work for most of the periods I do, it's been languishing in my closet and I was pleased it fit so well with this project!

Now I just need to finish the cape I was making to go with this...I suppose that's an excuse for a trilogy. Maybe by next winter!

The Great Pickled Limes Picnic of 2020

 Well then.

I've gotten a few comments recently asking how my pickled limes experiment ended, and I did make sure to carefully document results! But between *waves hands* the world and computer issues my inclination to write about pickled limes on the internet took a bit of a hit. And things on the world front haven't really improved, but my computer issues have been resolved! So no promises I'll post with any frequency, but I think I can promise I will post at least sporadically.

Anyways, on to the main event: how did the pickled limes turn out?

When I envisioned opening the limes and trying them out, I had grand visions of discovering a long-forgotten delightful snack...

via GIPHY

But I am sorry to say that they ended up aligning more with the historical sources deriding them as an "acquired taste" only adopted by Bostonians.

via GIPHY

That is overreacting slightly - they weren't all terrible. And there were still some decided differences in how they tasted! Science is cool, guys.

To help with the tasting portion of this project* I had the help of an esteemed panel of judges. We wore masks except while actually tasting, and stayed outside with ample space between our picnic blankets. Luckily we had a truly fantastic early October, so the weather was worth enjoying!

Let's dive in:

Our Least Favorite: Plain Brined

The plain brined limes surprisingly didn't smell like salt! They smelled...sort of floral?

From the panel:

"It smells like the toilet bowls in the Old Town Hall"

"It smells like 1950s chemical cleaner"

The taste was more salty, as I would expect given they'd been brined in salt water. I was expecting salt and sourness, but it actually wasn't sour at all. It tasted salty and organic - a little floral and musky.

The panel was more positive than I was, actually:

"I'm not hating it."

"Once you get past the initial salty awfulness it's ok"

"It has a musky floralness"

Runner Up: Spiced Vinegar

This was my favorite of the bunch, because the punch of the vinegar overpowered everything else. I like vinegar! I do think if I ever tried this again I would use more spices though.

The panel was more mixed:

"That one hits you hard"

"I don't taste any lime whatsoever"

"No toilet here!"

"The peel is pretty nice"

The Winner: Sweet Vinegar

I expected to like this one the best but in the end I think I liked it without the sugar. 

This one got the panel's vote though:

"This one is actually quite good"

"It's different, I don't know that I like it?"

"It's not bad!"

So there you have it! I am calling this a successful experiment, because now I have tried them. Would I make them again? Probably the sweet vinegar batch, with more spices. And I'd probably serve them with something. I used the same recipe (originally from an 1869 fruit pickling book) that I used for the sweet vinegar limes to pickle peaches over the summer, and those were delicious! Especially with manchego cheese and crusty bread.

When limes are next in season, I may try again with slightly different ratios (and try a batch where I pickle them in vinegar right away, instead of brining them first). But we'll see - for now, I think my appetite for pickled limes is satiated.

*Note: the salt-packed limes didn't make it to tasting. I ended up with something growing in there and it wasn't worth giving my friends botulism in the middle of a pandemic :(