Oh hey, I wrote this and then never posted it! I've just found it in my drafts. It's from December 2016. Whoops. Better late than never.
~~~
Well, as usual, it's been a while since last I posted! Sorry about that. I've been working away, but haven't attended any events to show you photos from. That changed this past weekend, though!
A friend and fellow St Andrews student, Adam HL, pulled me into the project he was putting together on eighteenth-century maritime fashion, and, in particular, the material culture of early modern fishing communities in coastal Fife, Scotland, for his undergraduate honours course. Some of you may know Adam from his work on the French reproduction frigate Hermione, which stopped to call in various spots up the North American coast in the summer of 2015. His deep interest in maritime fashion resulted in his choice of honours project, and also in the project's, er, *expanding* past the usual bounds of university coursework! I was very glad to get involved, and it's been very fun - we put on two public talks at the University of St Andrews, co-led a walk down to the ocean estuary near St Andrews to learn about historical ecology, foraging, and fishing work, and did a photoshoot down on the St Andrews pier and harbour-side. For next term we're planning some further demos at the Anstruther Fisheries Museum, and hopefully a trial-run on the Firth with a recreated sma'line (ocean fishing line). You can read lots more about Adam's project here, on his excellent blog 'Fishy Fashion and Maritime Modes.'
First of all, here is a watercolour by David Allan from the end of the eighteenth century (#D404, National Gallery, Edinburgh), showing one of the very few depictions of Fife fishwives from this period, and a photo of me next to Jigger's Inn, an eighteenth-century cottage on the Mussel Road that fishwives would have walked down to get to the estuary.
The basket is a back creel, which would have been loaded up with mussels to bait the lines or herring to go to market. Fishwives walked many miles on foot down to Edinburgh or up to Dundee to sell their wares, and came back with the goods their families needed in their fish baskets. They were also responsible for using the mussels they gathered to bait the fishing lines their husbands would take out to sea. Fishwives were the backbone of these communities, and their hard work resulted in quite a bit of power - they had control of the money, the households, and much of the daily running of the town. We re-created three baskets for this project - the back creel and two smaller baskets - with the help of Liz Balfour.
The photoshoot we did on the St Andrews pier, with photographer Noël Heaney, re-created a series of photos taken by Robert Adamson and David Octavius Hill in the 1840s. Their work, now held in the National Portrait Gallery in London, gives us some of the best and earliest documentation of coastal Fife's fishing communities. Although our impressions are based on 18th-century sources, we chose to re-create this photoshoot because we wanted to show the continuity over time that made these looks iconic. Indeed, the fishwives' back creels and striped petticoats survived with little change until fishing declined here between the World Wars, and became so iconic that locals were able to immediately recognise my impression as I walked around St Andrews.
Here's my impression, alongside an Adamson and Hill portrait of Elizabeth Hall.
And Adam's impression, alongside an Adamson and Hill portrait of David Young.
Adam had reproduction seaboots made, and they are top-quality but very difficult to get off:
Behind us is one of the original fishing cottages in town, which you can see in another of Adamson and Hill's images:
So there you have it! It was quite a different impression for me, as my non-medieval kit tends to be more suited for ball attendees and suffragettes, but I really enjoyed putting this together and I learned a lot.
~
Note, 2019: Adam is still working on expanding his maritime impressions and is conducting further research into eighteenth-century dress and maritime work, particularly with regards to the material cultures of sailors of all sorts (except pirates). He's now based in the U.S., so definitely have a look at his work and public lectures if this is a topic that interests you!
Wednesday, 12 June 2019
Some Updates
Sorry for the incredibly long gap between this post and the last! I'm doing a PhD, y'all. I have time for sewing, but not for writing about it! (Unless it was sewing someone did in Scotland before 1543. Then I have time for it.)
Anyways, wanted to share some photos from a couple of events that took place ages ago and I'm honestly never going to get around to doing a full write-up for. Sorry.
First up is the Bath Victorian Ball 2017 - yep, two whole years ago - where I wore my beetlewing gown for the second time (but not the last!). I made some additions to the skirt embroidery, and some adjustments to the fit overall that I think helped it to sit a little better. The back is still wrinkly. Oh well - I am comforted by photos of horrifically-fit gowns on ladies of the 1850s, who dressed up in their best clothes for the photoshoot and still couldn't manage a smooth-fitting bodice. Still, though, I am way happier with the front of this bodice than the back. The nice little sweep of the skirt against the carpet there is because I forgot to bring my bum-pad to Bath! Whoops. Turned out nice in the photos, though.
Photos by Timelight Photography, and hair by Emma Forrest.
The main additions for the second year of wearing the gown were all the little flying beetles, and they make me very happy. I'm going to be making a new bodice for this dress and wearing it to an 1830s event this coming fall, so you'll be seeing it again soon! I'm excited to make some mad sleeves. Haven't quite decided on the bodice design yet, but it will be silly. And have more dead bugs on it.
~
The next event that I never shared was the Edinburgh Regency Ball 2018. This is a very cool event that re-creates an historical ball exactly: same day/date - just 200 years on - same original venue, same dances. It's happened three times now - 2017, 2018, and 2019.
I wore the same gown I always wear to Regency balls, because I can't be bothered making a new one (I also wore it to the 2017 Regency Ball, which is why I'm not including that here). However, I did add a new panel to the back of the gown, which vastly improved the silhouette and general floofiness (appropriate for a ball set in 1817); my fiancé, James, finished his velvet suit in time for the ball, and looked incredibly dashing; and I made our friend Chelsea a gown, as well, so that she could come along. We had a wonderful time, and you can see some posts about the suit over on James's facebook page and blog, Little Welsh Viking.
Chelsea's gown is blue silk chiffon over a blue cotton undergown, all hand-stitched by me. She helped to make her stays and made her petticoat on her own, so we're slowly reeling her in to historical costuming! Her coral necklace is by Janet Reutcke. My gown is white/translucent silk gauze with gold figured silk trim, also over a cotton undergown. Someday I'll make sleeves for the undergown, and a spencer, so that I can go to Regency picnics and so on...but not today.
Someday I'll also do a write-up for the Bath Victorian Ball 2018, but probably also not today.
Anyways, wanted to share some photos from a couple of events that took place ages ago and I'm honestly never going to get around to doing a full write-up for. Sorry.
First up is the Bath Victorian Ball 2017 - yep, two whole years ago - where I wore my beetlewing gown for the second time (but not the last!). I made some additions to the skirt embroidery, and some adjustments to the fit overall that I think helped it to sit a little better. The back is still wrinkly. Oh well - I am comforted by photos of horrifically-fit gowns on ladies of the 1850s, who dressed up in their best clothes for the photoshoot and still couldn't manage a smooth-fitting bodice. Still, though, I am way happier with the front of this bodice than the back. The nice little sweep of the skirt against the carpet there is because I forgot to bring my bum-pad to Bath! Whoops. Turned out nice in the photos, though.
Photos by Timelight Photography, and hair by Emma Forrest.
The main additions for the second year of wearing the gown were all the little flying beetles, and they make me very happy. I'm going to be making a new bodice for this dress and wearing it to an 1830s event this coming fall, so you'll be seeing it again soon! I'm excited to make some mad sleeves. Haven't quite decided on the bodice design yet, but it will be silly. And have more dead bugs on it.
~
The next event that I never shared was the Edinburgh Regency Ball 2018. This is a very cool event that re-creates an historical ball exactly: same day/date - just 200 years on - same original venue, same dances. It's happened three times now - 2017, 2018, and 2019.
I wore the same gown I always wear to Regency balls, because I can't be bothered making a new one (I also wore it to the 2017 Regency Ball, which is why I'm not including that here). However, I did add a new panel to the back of the gown, which vastly improved the silhouette and general floofiness (appropriate for a ball set in 1817); my fiancé, James, finished his velvet suit in time for the ball, and looked incredibly dashing; and I made our friend Chelsea a gown, as well, so that she could come along. We had a wonderful time, and you can see some posts about the suit over on James's facebook page and blog, Little Welsh Viking.
Chelsea's gown is blue silk chiffon over a blue cotton undergown, all hand-stitched by me. She helped to make her stays and made her petticoat on her own, so we're slowly reeling her in to historical costuming! Her coral necklace is by Janet Reutcke. My gown is white/translucent silk gauze with gold figured silk trim, also over a cotton undergown. Someday I'll make sleeves for the undergown, and a spencer, so that I can go to Regency picnics and so on...but not today.
Someday I'll also do a write-up for the Bath Victorian Ball 2018, but probably also not today.
Saturday, 30 July 2016
Updates on the Tudor Kirtle
A few weeks ago I made some updates to my Tudor kirtle before heading to Newark Castle in Port Glasgow, a sixteenth-century manor house which has survived and been partially restored inside.
The main update consisted of beginning the process of lining the skirt with fur. I'm using cheap old thrift coats for this, and I've only gotten my hands on one so far, so only the back part of the skirt is lined. However, it already creates a nice effect!
I had a bunch of fun wandering around the castle, and had a chance to sing Henry VIII's 'Pastime With Good Company' in the restored main hall. Here's a video:
I plan to line the skirt all the way up the back, and at least half of the front, because at the moment the heavy weight just at the bottom of the skirt is putting a lot of stress on the point where it attaches to the bodice. I think that having the fur rolled into the pleats will help distribute the weight.
I'm a little torn between keeping the fur in the kirtle, now that I've put it in, and saving it for a future gown skirt and re-lining the kirtle with some wool or linen. I might do the latter, simply because the fur is precious. Or I could have both the gown and kirtle lined with fur... The main idea with lining the kirtle in fur was that it will protect the train as it drags on the ground, since fur is easier to wipe down than nice wool and velvet.
But anyway, here are some photos. =)
The main update consisted of beginning the process of lining the skirt with fur. I'm using cheap old thrift coats for this, and I've only gotten my hands on one so far, so only the back part of the skirt is lined. However, it already creates a nice effect!
![]() |
| The image on the left is from the Book of Hours of Henry VIII (c. 1500), f. 182v. |
I had a bunch of fun wandering around the castle, and had a chance to sing Henry VIII's 'Pastime With Good Company' in the restored main hall. Here's a video:
I plan to line the skirt all the way up the back, and at least half of the front, because at the moment the heavy weight just at the bottom of the skirt is putting a lot of stress on the point where it attaches to the bodice. I think that having the fur rolled into the pleats will help distribute the weight.
I'm a little torn between keeping the fur in the kirtle, now that I've put it in, and saving it for a future gown skirt and re-lining the kirtle with some wool or linen. I might do the latter, simply because the fur is precious. Or I could have both the gown and kirtle lined with fur... The main idea with lining the kirtle in fur was that it will protect the train as it drags on the ground, since fur is easier to wipe down than nice wool and velvet.
But anyway, here are some photos. =)
| In the restored hall. |
| This is in the older, 15th century part of the castle. |
| My straps started to fall down, and I left them because I was getting a headache. Alas. |
| The castle, in the midst of modern construction around it. |
Monday, 11 July 2016
The Versailles Ball, and HSF Travel
So, as anyone who follows my facebook has known for quite some time, on May 30th I was privileged to attend the Fêtes Galantes at the Palace of Versailles. This post has taken a very long time in coming, which I'm very sorry for, but I've been very busy with my masters and I just haven't had time to do a proper post!
As always, an image to start:
I love this shot! Raven wanted to evoke Annie Leibowitz's Vogue shoot for Marie Antoinette, and I think she did a fabulous job. Our instructions were "look bored," haha. I am in the sage green gown in the centre. To my right are Emma, in dark blue, and Alana, in pink satin brocade. I draped both of their gowns, and did much of the stitching on both.
Now, before I talk about the process of getting ready for the ball, I wanted to share a little bit of context on this gown, because taking it to France was actually quite special to me. The gown was created to tell the story of one Nova Scotian woman who was forced from her home in Acadia in the 1740s, and took refuge in France. Wearing the gown there felt like an important part of its story. In addition, I posted this gown on the Historical Sew-Fortnightly for the Travel challenge - I didn't actually enter it in the challenge, as it was mostly made some time ago, but I did want to share the travel-laden story that goes with it.
The gown is my c. 1740s Robe a la Francaise and embroidered stomacher, modelled on one in the collection of the LACMA, and chosen because of its similarity to the gowns listed in the death inventory of Dame Marie-Josephe Le Borgne de Belle Isle, of Louisbourg. It was made and initially worn in Marie's birthplace of Nova Scotia, Canada.
Marie was the highest-ranking woman at the Fortress of Lousibourg (in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia) in the 1740s, with close ties both within the town and to surrounding communities. She had an impressive lineage: she was descended from French noble houses on both sides of her family, claiming a number of seigneurial lords of New France, as well as two Governors of Acadia, among her recent ancestors, and her mother was the daughter of Chief Madokawando of the Penobscot of Pentagoët. She married twice in Louisbourg; once to a respected civil administrator of the town and afterwards to Lord Joseph Du Pont Duvivier. Between these two marriages, she had nine children, at least four of whom survived to adulthood.
Given her strong ancestral and communal ties to Louisbourg and Acadia, the Siege of Louisbourg and the resulting expulsion of the Acadians in 1745 must have been devastating. Marie packed up her children and her belongings, and undertook the voyage to France along with many other members of her once-thriving community. The voyage would have been dangerous, and the outlook bleak - especially when she lost her first husband, soon after the tumult began. Yet in 1749, when Louisbourg was returned to French hands, Marie found the strength to once again pack up her children and her life and sail back to the New World. She remarried in 1750 and immersed herself as a pillar of the Acadian community at Louisbourg until her death from illness in 1754. In some ways her death at this time is a blessing, as she did not live to see the second siege of Louisbourg in 1758, which ended when the residents were once again expelled and the town was purposefully burnt to the ground. This event effectively ended French occupancy of the Maritimes, although the Acadian culture remains to this day.
Marie's travels are unlikely to have taken her to Versailles, despite her aristocratic connections and the time she spent in France, but when I had the opportunity to wear my "Louisbourg" gown to the ball in May it felt a bit like I was completing a part of the story the gown was created to tell. The gown is not a travelling suit - a riding habit or a redingote or anything particularly practical - but in many ways travel has defined it: my own travels, but more importantly the travel forced on Marie and her family, and on the entire Acadian community.
Getting ready for our own travels was a pretty hectic business. It started back in the fall, with drafting and making stays for Alana. Alana has never sewn before, and she was an enthusiastic learner but given the time-crunch Emma and I made the stays for her, and much of the gown. She sewed her hoops all on her own, with some guidance from Emma, and did a great job! We're getting her hooked on reenacting so I'm sure she'll have lots to practice on in the future. =)
Here's Alana's draping process - first a photo of her wearing her stays with her hoops and Emma's candy-cane/circus petticoat (100% linen! 100% amazing!), over which I have draped her bodice lining. The second photo shows the process of draping the gown itself. This was Alana's first gown and she wasn't sure if she'd like it, so we've used a poly satin. I WOULD NOT recommend this, ever. Even for a beginner gown - or rather, especially for a beginner gown. Silk taffeta goes together like a dream. Poly satin is a fraying, drooping, wrinkling, hell-spawned mess. *Ahem*
But she looks lovely, no?
Emma used a gorgeous steel blue taffeta, and had her own stays and petticoats already, so her process was a lot faster and smoother. She's also a very experienced costumer, so we just spent a lot of evenings watching TV and handing bits of the gown back and forth to drape or stitch. This meant she had to spend a lot of time in her 18th century underwear, ready to have bits of gown draped on her, which resulted in this gem:
Here's her draping process:
Oh, and I made some shoes. Well, took apart and re-covered some 1940s shoes.
Unfortunately, it rained almost the whole time we were in Paris. We got to wander around the first day, but as we'd taken the 22-hour overnight bus from Glasgow and arrived at about 6 a.m., we mostly just wanted to sleep. We did get to see the Louvre and a few other monuments first, though. Paris is beautiful - I can't wait to go back!
On the second day we wandered around Paris for one day in the 18th c. daywear we'd brought along, joined by our friend Adam, a sailor and sometime-Revolutionary of generally lower repute than we should probably be associating with. He dressed Alana up in some sailing clothes and we went out on the town.
We had fun stealing swings from children and taking the metro.
The following day was the ball, and we spent all day getting ready. We got down to the wire at the end, but we made it!
Emma working her hair magic while I sew a Revolutionary cockade to Adam's hat. Also yes, I put on my petticoat and bedgown for getting ready. That's what they're for!
Here's the result of Emma's efforts (all the powder!):



And finally, fireworks!

It was pouring rain the whole time, so here's how some of Emma's friends kept dry - genius, but hilarious!
T-rex dancers!
Anyways, it was an amazing experience. I feel so lucky to have seen the Hall of Mirrors come alive as it was meant to - with people in incredible gowns, instead of just people in sweaty t-shirts and shorts and ballcaps. =P But really, I think it just feels a different way entirely. It's what it was built for.
Thanks to my amazing travel-adventure-sewing buddies, who made this such a fun trip. Can't wait for more shenanigans!
As always, an image to start:
![]() |
| Photo arranged by Raven of Plaid Petticoats |
~~~
Now, before I talk about the process of getting ready for the ball, I wanted to share a little bit of context on this gown, because taking it to France was actually quite special to me. The gown was created to tell the story of one Nova Scotian woman who was forced from her home in Acadia in the 1740s, and took refuge in France. Wearing the gown there felt like an important part of its story. In addition, I posted this gown on the Historical Sew-Fortnightly for the Travel challenge - I didn't actually enter it in the challenge, as it was mostly made some time ago, but I did want to share the travel-laden story that goes with it.
The gown is my c. 1740s Robe a la Francaise and embroidered stomacher, modelled on one in the collection of the LACMA, and chosen because of its similarity to the gowns listed in the death inventory of Dame Marie-Josephe Le Borgne de Belle Isle, of Louisbourg. It was made and initially worn in Marie's birthplace of Nova Scotia, Canada.
Marie was the highest-ranking woman at the Fortress of Lousibourg (in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia) in the 1740s, with close ties both within the town and to surrounding communities. She had an impressive lineage: she was descended from French noble houses on both sides of her family, claiming a number of seigneurial lords of New France, as well as two Governors of Acadia, among her recent ancestors, and her mother was the daughter of Chief Madokawando of the Penobscot of Pentagoët. She married twice in Louisbourg; once to a respected civil administrator of the town and afterwards to Lord Joseph Du Pont Duvivier. Between these two marriages, she had nine children, at least four of whom survived to adulthood.
Given her strong ancestral and communal ties to Louisbourg and Acadia, the Siege of Louisbourg and the resulting expulsion of the Acadians in 1745 must have been devastating. Marie packed up her children and her belongings, and undertook the voyage to France along with many other members of her once-thriving community. The voyage would have been dangerous, and the outlook bleak - especially when she lost her first husband, soon after the tumult began. Yet in 1749, when Louisbourg was returned to French hands, Marie found the strength to once again pack up her children and her life and sail back to the New World. She remarried in 1750 and immersed herself as a pillar of the Acadian community at Louisbourg until her death from illness in 1754. In some ways her death at this time is a blessing, as she did not live to see the second siege of Louisbourg in 1758, which ended when the residents were once again expelled and the town was purposefully burnt to the ground. This event effectively ended French occupancy of the Maritimes, although the Acadian culture remains to this day.
Marie's travels are unlikely to have taken her to Versailles, despite her aristocratic connections and the time she spent in France, but when I had the opportunity to wear my "Louisbourg" gown to the ball in May it felt a bit like I was completing a part of the story the gown was created to tell. The gown is not a travelling suit - a riding habit or a redingote or anything particularly practical - but in many ways travel has defined it: my own travels, but more importantly the travel forced on Marie and her family, and on the entire Acadian community.
~~~
The Ball
~~~
![]() |
| It looks like a painting! I'm so happy with how these came out. |
Here's Alana's draping process - first a photo of her wearing her stays with her hoops and Emma's candy-cane/circus petticoat (100% linen! 100% amazing!), over which I have draped her bodice lining. The second photo shows the process of draping the gown itself. This was Alana's first gown and she wasn't sure if she'd like it, so we've used a poly satin. I WOULD NOT recommend this, ever. Even for a beginner gown - or rather, especially for a beginner gown. Silk taffeta goes together like a dream. Poly satin is a fraying, drooping, wrinkling, hell-spawned mess. *Ahem*
But she looks lovely, no?
Emma used a gorgeous steel blue taffeta, and had her own stays and petticoats already, so her process was a lot faster and smoother. She's also a very experienced costumer, so we just spent a lot of evenings watching TV and handing bits of the gown back and forth to drape or stitch. This meant she had to spend a lot of time in her 18th century underwear, ready to have bits of gown draped on her, which resulted in this gem:
| #Cinderella |
| Then front |
| Back first |
| Pleats! |
| Finally, sleeves. |
I, unlike most people, apparently, don't actually mind draping or setting sleeves. I find them really satisfying, actually. Emma's took some fiddling, but they sat really nicely in the end.
Oh, and I made some shoes. Well, took apart and re-covered some 1940s shoes.
| Trying out the look of the AD buckle |
| I used all stash silk! Also, I wore stockings to the ball. =P |
On the second day we wandered around Paris for one day in the 18th c. daywear we'd brought along, joined by our friend Adam, a sailor and sometime-Revolutionary of generally lower repute than we should probably be associating with. He dressed Alana up in some sailing clothes and we went out on the town.
![]() |
| From the left: Adam, Emma, myself, and Alana |
![]() |
Also: ice cream
|
![]() |
| The metro is fun in 18th century clothing |
![]() |
| And then it rained. This is a period umbrella method! |
![]() |
| Met Museum 53.600.588(60), 1746 - "Espéce de Parapluye" |
The following day was the ball, and we spent all day getting ready. We got down to the wire at the end, but we made it!

Emma working her hair magic while I sew a Revolutionary cockade to Adam's hat. Also yes, I put on my petticoat and bedgown for getting ready. That's what they're for!
Here's the result of Emma's efforts (all the powder!):
![]() |
| Dancing in the Hall of Mirrors |
![]() |
| The grand staircase - one of my favourite photos |
![]() |
| The three ladies |
![]() |
| Revolutionaries don't smile |
![]() |
| I *love* the back of this gown! |

![]() |
| The custard plates are hiding behind us on the window sill. |
![]() |
| We were joined by a big group of Emma's friends, who are historical dancers from Massachusetts. |


And finally, fireworks!

It was pouring rain the whole time, so here's how some of Emma's friends kept dry - genius, but hilarious!
T-rex dancers!
Anyways, it was an amazing experience. I feel so lucky to have seen the Hall of Mirrors come alive as it was meant to - with people in incredible gowns, instead of just people in sweaty t-shirts and shorts and ballcaps. =P But really, I think it just feels a different way entirely. It's what it was built for.
Thanks to my amazing travel-adventure-sewing buddies, who made this such a fun trip. Can't wait for more shenanigans!
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