Original Swiss Waist

This weekend I am headed out to Wisconsin for an 8K kayak adventure. Before I left, I thought I would share the promised pictures of my original black Swiss waist.

(Please note that these types of garments seem to have interchangeable names - corselet, Swiss body, Swiss waist...I am using Swiss waist because  it seems to be the term most are familiar with, and is also recognized as a garment worn over a bodice outside of the dress, and thus prevents confusion).

The front (I think?) of the Swiss waist

The back - notice the shaped side-back seams. The side seams are also prevalent.

I acquired this Swiss waist from a woman at the Midwest Open Air Museums Coordinating Council fall conference in 2011. Unfortunately, there was no information on its provenance. I think the waist may have been made from a silk bodice that was cut down/remodeled, but I can't be totally sure. It is made of black silk taffeta lined with white cotton twill. It's in pretty good shape for its age, though the silk does have some stains and shattering. For a while, I even considered whether or not it was a reproduction - but on close inspection, the garment definitely shows its age. It is also incredibly small. It might fit a very small teenager today, and may even have been an older girl's item.

The piping is a work of art!

The waist, neckline and armscyes are piped with the same silk over brown cotton cording. The trim is self fabric strips which are knife pleated in a really cool pattern; the top edge is pleated in one direction, and the bottom edge is pleated in the other direction and staggered with the top pleats, which makes for a very cool ripple effect. These strips are hand-applied, but the rest of the bodice is sewn by machine.

Detail shot of the really cool trim.

It's a little hard to tell which side is meant to be the front, and which is meant to be the back. The side with the opening is, I think, the front - it is fitted with darts on this side, right below where the bust would be. The back also has the typical V-shaped seam. The eyelets on the opening are hand sewn and there is boning along the eyelets. The ribbon used to close it is silk, and has some ingenious copper aglets, but it is impossible to tell if this ribbon was original to the garment.

Inside-out front, show construction details (and some pretty bad pitstains)

Detail of darts and piecing (?) seam

One of the interesting things about this garment is in its piecing. There is some strange piecing on the front - at least I think it's piecing. You can see it in the images above (the black lines running slightly diagonally across from the armscyes) and in the image below. Anyone have any ideas about this?

I have really enjoyed observing this Swiss waist and figuring out how it was constructed. It's like being a detective! I am currently making a Swiss waist with trim inspired by this one. I hope it has inspired you!

Crow Wing, or The Land That Time Forgot.

It's been a while. There's been a lot going on. One of the things going on has been a lot of sewing. I've been working on a swiss waist which mimics some features of an original swiss waist I own. Pictures of that are coming up soon, but it just wasn't inspiring me, and I wasn't sure what to write.

Today, though, I went on a blog-worthy Sunday Funday Afternoon Adventure. I live in central Minnesota, and one of the sites that has been on my list of things to see since I permanently moved here almost two years ago is Crow Wing State Park. The park is located just south of Brainerd (Minnesota's vacationland) on Highway 371. It's a pretty small park, and not well-known, which is a shame as it has some really amazing historic sites.

The area known as "Crow Wing" is situated at the confluence of the Mississippi and Crow Wing rivers. In the middle of the place where these two rivers meet is an island shaped like a bird's wing, which may be the source of the name. Rivers, as any good social studies teacher will tell you, are always a source of travel and transportation, and this area saw lots of people who used the river. The earliest, of course, were the Native Americans who lived here, particularly the Ojibwe and Dakota who fought for control of the area. British fur traders and soldiers were thought to be in the area as early as the middle of the 18th century. After the game of hot potato known as the subsequent trades leading up to the Louisiana Purchase, French fur traders began to settle in earnest and used the Mississippi river, and other rivers, to transport their goods. Lumbermen and loggers were also attracted to the area for its dense forests, particularly for the white pine. As if there wasn't enough traffic through the area, the Red River oxcart trail traveled along the Mississippi river, cutting right through the area and offering an overland supply route into Canada.

Crow Wing Island, as viewed from the east bank of the Mississippi river. Very flooded, as you can see!

Given these factors, this area was prime for settlement in the 1820s - 1840s. The various groups who interacted in this area - white Yankee settlers hoping to get rich, French fur traders hoping for the same, Native Americans and Metis, missionaries from a variety of churches - began a little settlement at this important confluence. It was given the name Crow Wing - I'll leave it up to you, gentle reader, to determine whether the settlers were smart or unoriginal. Over time the town grew to a population of over 600 at its peak in the 1860s, rivaling other settlements in the upper Midwest. But just as quickly as it popped up, it disappeared, as boom towns are wont to do. By the 1870s, the Native Americans and Metis were moved to the White Earth reservation and the railroads had passed by the settlement. The town was left to ruin.

The state Department of Natural Resources has done a great job of preserving and interpreting this site. There is only one building left, but there are markers indicating where other buildings were, and the boardwalk has been rebuilt so that one can get an idea of the lay of the land and imagine what the settlement was like. I really enjoyed my time and got some great pictures on a beautiful blue-sky day.

(Here, it should be noted that I am not an outdoorsy person. I like the outdoors and nature well enough, but when things get too real I head inside. And I picked the height of tick season to go tromping around in the woods and the tall-grass prairies to take these pictures for you. If you've never encountered a tick, you are lucky - if bunny rabbits and kittens and duckings are proof of a loving God, ticks are proof that Satan exists. I foiled three wood ticks in their attempts to liberate me of my blood as I took these pictures. I hope you appreciate them, I really do.)

 This is the Clement Beaulieu mansion, built in 1849. It is commonly believed to be the oldest building in north central Minnesota. Clement Beaulieu was a prominent citizen, trader, merchant, speculator, and general man-about-town in Crow Wing. His mansion is the only building left - Beaulieu and his wife were Metis, so they were relocated to White Earth, and the was moved to a family farm after Crow Wing was abandoned. It was then moved back here in the 1980s and restored. It stands on the top of the valley, overlooking the Mississippi river - pride of place, indeed!
 

 

This boardwalk is a recreation of the boardwalk which ran along the river and served as main street for Crow Wing. The town had stores, hotels, taverns, and warehouses. Cellar pits for many buildings are still evident. The list of town residents is like a who's who in Minnesota history - Morrison, Peake, Whipple, Aitken, Rice, Father Pierz, Hole-in-the-Day and Curly Head all lived here, or traveled through here, or did business here. Crow Wing even made mention in Harper's Weekly. It really was quite a place back then!

 

This is the view above the Mississippi river, on the other side of the valley from the Beaulieu house. Crow Wing Island is to the left, and the site of Crow Wing town is to the right. At the top, you can see where the Crow Wing river meets the Mississippi river. It's like the convergence of two major highways.

 

Those who know anything about Minnesota history, or the history of the Old Northwest, will be geeking out with me when they see this picture. The Red River trail was an oxcart trail used by Metis from the Red River valley (just like the song) to travel between Canada and Saint Paul. It was hugely important to the settlement of Minnesota and the transportation of goods, people, and ideas. The park has a section of the Red River trail which can be hiked.

Unfortunately, most of the trail looked like this. But I got to hike about a mile and a half of the Red River trail! This history nerd geeked out the whole way.

And really, I couldn't get enough of the different angles of the Beaulieu house. 1840s Greek Revivals are one of my absolute favorite styles of architecture, and if I could live in this house, I would. I really want to sew an 1850s dress and go back to do a photo shoot.

I think what I liked best about this site, though, are the stories behind the area and the town. I think all history comes down to relationships - it's about how people interact with each other, with their environment, and with the ideas and problems they encounter along the way. Crow Wing is all about these relationships, and this view sums it up best - one lonely sentinel on a hill, serving as witness to a forgotten time.


Update 6/2/2013 6:53 PM: I have done the all-over-nekkid-tick-check and there is not a single one to be found. I vanquish thee, Nature!

Their Likeness Taken

On my recent trip southwards, we were able to fit in some antique-ing. Most of the places we stopped in were very much on the beaten path, and shops frequented by tourists, which usually means that the prices were a little high. There were lots of beautiful things to ogle, not a lot that fit in the budget. This was probably for the best, as our rental car was really tiny and things could have gotten pretty cramped pretty quickly.

I did find three tintypes, and brought them home with me, and wanted to share them!

First up is this lovely lady, still in the original pasteboard holder. The back has a note written on it, identifying it as "grandmother". Her dress is very much in style with the very early 1850s (perhaps even as early as the late 1840s - that era is a little bit past my knowledge base so I am not as certain). It's a little blurry and dark, but she has a lovely collar and a pretty brooch.

Proof that even then, children had a hard time holding still for the camera! This kiddo moved while the picture was being exposed and is thus captured for posterity. In the 19th century, little boys wore dresses identical to little girls until they were potty trained. In period images, you can often tell boys and girls apart by the part in their hair - boys' hair is usually parted on the side, girls' hair is usually parted in the center. I am taking a wild stab in the dark by saying this is a boy, as I think I can see a side part and definitely do not see a center part. So I've taken to thinking of this child as a boy - what do you think?

A few details: his little bootees are lovely and he is wearing some really cute striped stockings! It is really hard to put a date on this one (children's clothes are also not a forte of mine), and he may be a little past the 1860s, but I just adore this one so I took it home with me.

This image is my favorite of the whole group. There is no telling the relationship between these two girls - sisters? Cousins? School friends? Either way, they are obviously dear to each other. They are holding hands (and holding them in a really weird way - anyone have any idea why??) and their fashionable jackets are identical. They also appear to be wearing the jackets over dresses, instead of wearing them as part of a three-piece ensemble, which is not unusual but seems to be less common. Also interestingly, they are wearing what appear to be lace mitts on their hands, but have taken the mitts off of their clasped hands. Again, anyone have any insight?

I plan to get some bigger versions of some of the details in this image - they are both wearing some really cool jewelry, and the girl on the left has what appears to be a decorated hairnet. Probably the best thing about this image is the depth and clarity of it - looking at the actual tintype, it is an eerie sensation of looking back into the past, seeing them exactly as they were when they sat down to "have their image struck".

Millinery Monday: The Smell of Old Lace

I never intended to have a "Millinery Monday" theme, but that is just the way things have worked out the past couple weeks. I just had to show off my latest acquisition:

It's an original bonnet veil! Bonnet veils were the 19th century version of sunglasses, cutting down on glare and providing a bit of shading for the eyes while also keeping a physical barrier between a lady and strangers while she was abroad. This one is a spotted silk netting ground with an edging of chantilly lace. It measures about 30 inches wide at the top edge, and 16 inches long at its apex. I don't know if you have ever handled antique silk lace - it has a stiff hand and is as light as a spiderweb. It also has a lovely smell, like talc powder, usually because it was saved in some little old lady's closet or bureau, and it exudes grace from another time.

Obviously, it has been well-loved in its lifetime...

The border is coming separated from the ground in a couple places, and there are some obvious repairs to the ground from its previous owners. That's not so shocking when you consider that this veil is likely around 150 years old! I don't know about you, but I think she looks pretty good for her age (yes, I personify my antiques, and this one is clearly a girl). The border can be repaired with some fine sewing thread and some careful needlework.

Here is the main reason I am excited I snagged up this beauty - and for the even prettier price of $13. This bonnet veil was being advertised as doll clothes. In fact, the  seller was advertising it as a "cutter" item - meaning vintage linens and laces that can be cut up for doll clothes. Cut. Up. For. Doll. Clothes. If you can, imagine the look of horror on my face. I didn't so much snag up this great deal, but I saved it in the name of history

Unfortunately, this situation is all too common with vintage and antique textiles. Heck, it's common with ALL antiques in today's DIY world. Beautiful wooden furniture with lovely patina is painted lime green with zebra stripes (yes, this is an example from real life). Antique transferware is smashed and turned into mosaic architectural pieces. And you know what? It is the right of any person who owns an item to determine its use, and if that use is doll clothes, then so be it. It is equally dangerous to think that we can save every little thing in the name of history. That way lies an episode of Hoarders. Things are used up, they become tattered and torn, and at a certain point they are no longer worth saving. Lace becomes moth-eaten. Buildings suffer from fires and water and time.

But, I have saved this one small, beautiful thing that can be cherished for years to come. And hopefully, whoever is next in line to own this little beauty will be able to enjoy the smell of antique lace, too.

What about you? Do you have anything you have saved from an untimely demise? What do you think is worth saving - and is the DIY movement ruining antiques or giving them a new life?

Wordless Wednesday: How To Make the Papillote Curls from Yesterday's Post

(Okay, just a few words, because I'm Irish and I've kissed the Blarney Stone so I can't NOT say something - these have changed my historical hairdressing forever. They are incredibly easy, they stay in forever without hairspray, and they look just darling in a whole bunch of different styles. Janet Stephens is officially my hero.)

Millinery Monday!

Yesterday I channeled some frustration and annoyance into making something beautiful (which is probably what should be done all the time with frustration and annoyance, it's a better method than my usual method of ice cream and tears). And what I had my sights set on was this:

Hello, beautiful...

 It's the adorably charming hat that Marianne (aka Kate Winslet) wears in Ang Lee's Sense and sensibility. This is the movie that made me fall in love with late Georgian clothing, and with Jane Austen's works. And let's be honest, Kate Winslet could wear a paper sack and look good, so this is stunning on her.

But, just because it was adorable doesn't mean it's based in history. Hollywood is notorious for taking liberties, especially with the costumes of its major stars. So I did a little digging around to find out what this little hat was all about.

Technically, it is not a hat. It is a capote. This seems to be the term for a class of close-fitting, low brimmed bonnets that were popular in the very early years of the 19th century. The word "capote" comes back in numerous ways for numerous different styles of hats, so this is a bit of an imperfect definition, but it works.

Unsurprisingly, period capotes differ a little bit from Kate Winslet's. Namely, they really come down over the eyes; this decision makes sense for Hollywood, because watching Marianne falling in love with Colonel Brandon in a true period capote would be like watching Kate Winslet emoting inside of a mailbox. Not so pretty. Here are a couple images of capotes from fashion plates, to show you what I'm talking about.

Gallery of Fashion, 1800

"Balloon Bonnet", Gallery of Fashion 1794-1798 (from Jane Austen's World)

If those look a little silly, apparently fashion commentators felt similarly, as seen in this cartoon:

"Les Invisibles" 1810

So, I took an unformed straw base, fitted it on my own head, steamed the bejeebers out of it, and this is what we got!

Fact: You will always get terrible pictures on this blog. Sorry I'm not sorry.

It's way cuter in person. Just trust me.

And look! I did papillote curls, just for the occasion!

So, I'm pretty pleased with this, especially as it's something that I have ALWAYS wanted. Now, how to trim it...any brilliant ideas, gentle readers?

The Lady Abroad (or, a springtime roadtrip)

Spring is when (to paraphrase Pa Ingalls from the Little House books) my wandering foot starts itching. Without intending it, I turned traveling into a spring tradition. It started in college, when I would take the opportunity over spring break to go visit my twin sister at her college in Wisconsin, continued through my study abroad in Ireland the spring of my senior year, and then through some springtime trips in my adulthood. I have come to interpret melting snow, chirping birds, and longer sunsets as a cue to hit the highway. This year was no different, and while plans for a trip abroad fell through, I quickly regrouped and decided to make an epic Civil War road trip to Missouri and back with my good friend Sarah last week.

Sarah and I took off in a little rental car that we christened Stephen Douglas. Our first stop on the way was the Amana Colonies. While it snowed in Minnesota, it rained the whole way down. Yuck. The cozy bed and breakfast we stayed in was a welcome respite - and since it dated back to the 1850s, it definitely fit into the road trip. I wish we would have had more time in the Amana Colonies - so many lovely things to see and shops to visit and antiquing to do, it will definitely be a return trip.

We made our way down to St. Louis, and did all the St. Louis things - we went up the arch (terrifying for a claustrophobe like yours truly), visited the City Museum, and saw the exhibit on the Civil War at the Missouri History Museum. We also spent a sunny afternoon at the botanical gardens, if only to prove to ourselves that green grass DOES exist, despite what our snowy winter has insisted.

And of course, one of the big highlights was the ball.

"And we were so admired!" Sarah (left) and self

The ball was held at a beautiful ballroom near Forest Park. Sarah and I are a bit spoiled for balls; at the balls we usually attend, all the gentlemen dance with all the ladies and take their duties seriously. We were a bit wary about what the experience would be at this ball, where we didn't know anyone. However, we were pleasantly surprised to be asked to dance many times. We made many new friends, and everyone was so delightful and friendly.

One thing I was not anticipating was that people would recognize me, either from here or discussion forums or Facebook. - I felt a little bit like a celebrity, with several people seeking me out to tell me they follow my sewing adventures. I do things because I think they are fun or I get enjoyment out of them, and I never stop to contemplate that someone might be watching - which, upon further reflection, is a bit of an ironic statement to put on a blog. Nevertheless, it was fun to meet people who also get enjoyment out of the things I do, and it was very encouraging to me.

After St. Louis, we hit the road and headed to Kansas City. All reenactors know what we were looking for there: The Steamboat Arabia Museum. The Arabia was a paddleboat which sank on the Missouri River in 1856. Long story short, the ship sank into the mud, the river changed course, and all its cargo (basically a warehouse's worth of goods) was buried under a cornfield until the 1980s when some adventurers dug it up. They continue to preserve and display all the goods that the ship was holding. As our guide pointed out, it was full of the kinds of things you throw away - pins, matches, nails, buttons - and thus they are things that you maybe wouldn't see in a museum. There were plenty of luxuries too - we got to smell some perfume (spicy floral with a hint of musk) and there was beautiful china and fabrics. Not only that, these things were in bulk - there wasn't just one pair of shoes, they had the same pair of shoes in every single size, forks and spoons and knives by the dozen, whole bolts of fabric and thousands of buttons. To say it was amazing would not accurately describe it.

Buttons, buttons, buttons!

Tinware on display

We also got plenty of antiquing done, and we visited Lawrence, Kansas, site of the famous Lawrence Massacre by Quantrill's Raiders. We did a self-guided tour of Lawrence that I highly recommend; it is always fascinating to learn about history right where it happened. And, since the Oregon Trail went through Lawrence, we got a glimpse of that, too.

And now I am home, working on sewing projects and plotting and scheming further adventures - adventures that hopefully don't leave me with a bad case of tendinitis like the one I'm nursing in my right foot at the moment. Major ouch, but totally worth it.

Me at the City Museum, a decidedly modern adventure