Clothing – Page 2 – Augusta's Journey

French Kashmir shawl from the 1830s

In July, I wrote about my antique “paisley shawl” that I bought in Edinburgh. I was trying to figure out when and where it was made? I had spent time in the library and read all I could find, and I had narrowed it down to a European-made shawl from the early 1800s.

Who could shed some light on it? Any “paisley shawl” experts?

I googled something like “US expert paisley shawl” and found Dr Joan Hart, a textile specialist and art historian who specializes in Kashmir and paisley shawls. Contacting her led to a wonderful exchange of emails and some very definite answers, for which I am very grateful – thank you!

Even though I bought the shawl in Edinburgh, it is French, and probably made in the 1830s. It is very fine early jacquard weave (not woven on a drawloom). I also received some great advice on how to wash and mend the shawl.

Excited about knowing that the shawl was French, I continued looking for pictures of similar French shawls. The closest one I found was a French, wool and silk jacquard shawl from around 1830. The picture is included in The Kashmiri Shawl by Sherry Rehman and Naheed Jafri. The design has many similarities and the color in the weft seem to be exactly the same as in my shawl. The width is also the same. According to the authors, “the delicate fronds that creep upwards on to the small, plain cream section is a motif that came into European shawls around the 1830s.”

I also purchased a used copy of a beautiful book by Monique Levi-Strauss: Cashmere – A French Passion 1800-1880. Besides being stunningly beautiful, it is a fascinating read about the history and designers of French Kashmir shawls.

Where do I go next? I would love to know who actually designed and produced these shawls – maybe a research trip to France 🙂 ? The French have always been scrutinizing their Kashmir shawls – and finding cotton fibers among the silk and wool fibers must have been scandalous!

But what about the shawl Kerstin and I got from our aunt Eva – a reversible square paisley shawl. I asked Dr. Hart about that one as well. It turned out to be Scottish and from the 1850s or slightly later. There is a photo of a similar shawl in Frank Ames book: The Kashmir Shawl.

This has been an interesting and inspiring side-trip to Augusta’s Journey. I have discovered a whole new world of beautiful textiles that I knew nothing about before. But then, I have always liked scenic byways.

I wish he may go to the East Indies, that I may have my shawl.

Jane Austen died 200 years ago and her legacy is celebrated this year with exhibitions and events. Kerstin and I visited Skokloster Castle last week. Their exhibition, Jane Austen’s World, featured costumes worn in Austen’s movies, including the famous soaked shirt worn by Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. A theme in the exhibition was marriage as a guarantor of family survival. Girls’ education focused on studies that would secure a future husband.

Our Augusta was fortunate in that she had a wealthy benefactor – her brother-in-law, Gustaf Lejdenfrost. She was not eager to get married, and when she did fall in love with her future husband, Lejdenfrost was also not in favor of her getting married. He would make sure that she could live comfortably without having to get married.

In the spirit of the Jane Austen celebration, I decided to re-read Mansfield Park. The following quote made me smile because it was so timely:

“Fanny, William must not forget my shawl, if he goes to the East Indies; and I shall give him a commission for anything else that is worth having. I wish he may go to the East Indies, that I may have my shawl. I think I will have two shawls, Fanny.”

For the last couple of days, Kashmir shawls have been on my mind. I guess, having a relative travelling to the East Indies would have been the way you would get one. If you were not fortunate to get a real Kashmir shawl, you might be able to get a locally produced copy.

I wrote about my hunt for Paisley shawls in May; then 3 weeks ago, my travels took me to Edinburgh. The first day, we did some sightseeing and visited charity and antique shops. It was there, in a back room, on top of a pile of other textiles that I spotted the now so familiar paisley pattern. I started pulling in the pile and realized that it was an antique shawl – with a few holes and matted fringes. What would you expect with a, maybe, 180-year-old shawl? The shop keeper and I agreed on a price and she stuffed the shawl into a plastic bag for me.

It wasn’t until we got home that I realized the size and beauty of this shawl. And it wasn’t until I got back to DC, and spent an afternoon in the textile library at The George Washington University that I realized that my shawl seems quite unique among published pictures of Kashmir and Paisley shawls. Since then I have spent many hours scrolling through online images of genuine Kashmir shawls and those made in France and the UK during the 1800s. I have also been reading all I can find about the shawl industry in Edinburgh and Paisley. I am no closer to assessing where and when the shawl was made. There is one tell-tales though: as I can discern, the warp is silk, which points to a European made shawl.

So here is the beauty, annotated with name of the parts of a Kashmir shawl:

Size

The shawl is 306 cm long. The width at one end is 154 cm and at the other, 157 cm. The warp is silk and the weft is wool. According to historical records from Paisley, there was also a fine lace cotton thread used in the ground color weft for added strength – called a “sma’ shot”.

Material

The silk warp is dyed in 3 different colors: gold, light red, and light yellow. Besides the ground color (cream), there are 4 colors used in the weft: crimson, light red, olive, and a very light turquoise.

Weave

The shawl is woven in 3:1 twill which can be seen in the fringe gate.

This is typical of European shawls; genuine Kashmir shawls are woven in 2:2 twill. The back side is typical of the European shawls in that the loose wefts were clipped and removed after the shawl was taken off the loom. This reduced the weight of the final shawl.

Design

The typical “harlequin fringe gates”, those colorful squares at the end of the shawl, are 2 cm high. When harlequin gates first appeared on shawls in the 1820s, this is how high they were. They then became larger – having doubled in height by 1845 – and they were more ornate.

The field is quite large and cream (pale) colored. The pallu is also quite large with 8 tall, intricate butas (paisley shapes). What is so beautiful with this shawl are the stylistic flowers and fronds that stretch into the plain, cream-colored field. According to Rehman and Jafri, this motif started to appear on European shawls in the 1830s.

Augusta's Journey Paisley Shawl — Augusta’s Journey Paisley Shawl

Final notes

I would love to find out more about this shawl – nailing down the time period and the manufacturing site. Was is made on a draw-loom or on a Jacquard loom? And should I mend the holes?

While reading about the shawl manufacturing in Paisley, I realized the similarities with Norrköping and the life of Augusta. Both Paisley and Norrköping were textile towns that flourished in the 1800s. Paisley had long been a center for linen and wool textiles – and even silk manufacturing. In the 1820s, the Paisley shawl manufacturing was taking off. Unfortunately, shawl manufacturing was just about the only industry in Paisley and, when fashion changed and demand declined, there was no alternative work for those employed in the industry. By 1880, the manufacturing of Paisley shawls had come to an end.

Augusta lived a privileged life in Norrköping because of the wool mills and the textile industry. Her brother in law and benefactor owned a wool mill as did her cousin’s husband. So, did fashion in Norrköping at this time also dictate large wool shawls? And if so, were they aware of the European fashion of Kashmir shawls? Or did they buy locally produced shawls?

I wish I knew.

Below are some more images of the shawl:

Göta Canal: Day 3 – Motala to Sjötorp

Kerstin and I had talked about taking a very early morning walk in Motala. We didn’t realize that by 7 am we would already be out on Lake Vättern, Sweden’s second largest lake. When I opened the cabin door, the breeze caught my nightgown and the air was crisp. The view was beautiful, a cobalt-blue sky meeting the deep blue water at the horizon, and the sun reflecting the ripples in the wake of Juno. Here and there, the waves had whitecaps.

On deck, we needed our big wool shawls. Inside the dining room it was cozy and while we crossed Lake Vättern we enjoyed an unhurried breakfast. Soon we arrived at Karlsborg. Here we were greeted by our cousin Tina and aunt Eva, who had sent us a package of antique nightgowns, old lace, and an 1850s Paisley shawl.

We had cut the shawl into two pieces so each of us would get one – and we did wear them this morning. While the rest of our fellow travelers went on a tour of Karlsborg’s fort, we headed for the fort’s coffee shop. In our 1840s dresses and bonnets, we looked a little out of place among the soldiers stationed at the fort and wearing green camouflage uniforms.

After this little excursion, it was time to get back on Göta Canal again. Our first challenge would be the lock and bridge at Forsvik. The lock is Göta Canal’s oldest lock; both the lock and the bridge were built in 1813. Without knowing all the details of unseasonable low water levels combined with the curvature of the canal right before the lock, we realized that maneuvering Juno into the canal would be a challenge. The log fenders hanging over Juno’s sides were getting squeezed and splintered against the sides of the canal but they sure did the job in the tight curve Juno was to pass through. All this maneuvering really made us appreciate the expertise and experience of the captains (we had two!) and the crew.

Forsvik is also home to a religious family who has for 3 generations greeted the canal boats with music, flowers, and blessings. As expected, there they were with guitars and accordions, flags of many nationalities, and bouquets of wild flowers for Juno’s hostesses. The hymns they were singing were familiar and most of us passengers sang along.

After Forsvik, we entered Billströmmen, a current in the canal surrounded by pools of water and lily ponds. We then entered the most beautiful part of Göta Canal: Spetsnäskanalen, built in 1824. The forest surrounding the canal could have been the inspiration for children’s story-books about gnomes and trolls.

The canal lead us out into Lake Viken. Having the highest altitude – 91.8 meter over the ocean – it serves as the reservoir for the Göta Canal. One more lock after this lake (Lock Tåtorp) and we would start going down the locks instead of climbing up as we had done for the first 3 days.

The rest of the canal between Lake Viken and Lake Vänern was also spectacularly beautiful and we had the opportunity to walk along the canal.

Our final destination this day was Sjötorp where we visited the Canal Museum

Once aboard again, we settled down for a nice IPA on deck while Juno headed out on Lake Vänern – the largest lake in Sweden and the 3^rd largest in Europe. The weather was favorable and we would cross the lake while sound asleep in our cozy little cabin.

Göta Canal: Day 1 – Lake Mälaren and Trosa

Having left Stockholm, we were now cruising on Lake Mälaren and taking a little detour to view Drottningholm, the UNESCO world heritage site and home of the royal family.

From there, we passed the island of Ekerö where Augusta spent a memorable Saturday in June, 1851 with three famous Swedish politicians and leaders: Gustaf Lallerstedt, A. Oscar Wallenberg, and August Sohlman.

“The Saturday after my arrival we were invited by Lallerstedt to his property, Stafsund. At 8 o’clock in the morning, we traveled by the steamboat Westmanland, whose captain was a heartily nice fellow. In the middle of Mälaren, we were met by, and transferred to, another boat.

The day was cloudy, but the weather in general was impeccable.

The corps de logis at Stafsund is made of stone, built during the time of Charles XII. The innumerable rooms are dark and gloomy and furnished in an unpleasant, old-fashioned way.

The surroundings are indescribably beautiful and offer the most diverse views of Mälaren. It is all so beautiful; we spent a rather enjoyable day outdoors and were treated to a grand dinner consisting of six dishes of food and a variety of wines. In the evening, when we were to return to Stockholm by steamboat, we were late and had to ride in a hay wagon back to Kungsholmen. With us were Wallenberg and a Master Sohlman, who is a member of Bore and who was unreasonably enthusiastic regarding Denmark, where he had joined the Danes in their fight [against the German separatists in the war of 1848].”

Back to Juno. We were now heading towards Södertälje, where we would enter the largest lock in all of the Nordic countries. This lock would lead us back to the Baltic Sea. The first lock was built here between 1806 and 1809, enabling ships from Lake Mälaren to reach the Baltic Sea through this route.

The next stop, and first excursion, was in the little town of Trosa.

Unfortunately, it had started to rain. Instead of parasols, Kerstin and I dug out umbrellas from our carpet bags and braved the ever increasing rain. But, of course, we had to experience walking in rain in our long dresses and silk bonnets! The little, old, wood houses lining the canal through Trosa makes for a picturesque walk and we convinced ourselves that this kind of weather was great for photography. It was not great for our fabric shoes and neither for the hems of our dresses.

We certainly made sure not to be late getting back to Juno (didn’t want to risk having to ride in a hay wagon to Juno’s next stop).

Back again on Juno, we had to change into the next set of dresses we had brought, and hung all the wet clothes to dry in our little cabin. As it was time for dinner, we just followed the advice: “Tradition has it that the guests change to something a bit more elegant for dinner.” The dinner, by the way, was in line with Augusta’s description – it was grand!

After dinner, the rain subsided and the clouds were dissipating. Now the cruise was taking us through the archipelago south of Trosa, stunning with sparse vegetation and smooth cliffs illuminated by the setting sun. In contrast, the hazy lights of the industrial buildings in Oxelösund – discernible in the distance – painted a surreal picture.

And soon, it was dark; sea and sky were merging into a dark blue color. Time for bed. We got our bunk beds ready but left the cabin door ajar so we could still see the dark blue sky between our swaying, wet dresses.

Day 1 had been spectacular!

On the Hunt for Paisley Shawls

We really don’t know what kind of shawl Augusta, or her mother, used when travelling. Most likely, they had large, dark, wool shawls to keep warm. Where they locally produced or imported?

In the 1800s, shawls with paisley pattern was the fashion. The shawls were large and multicolored. No artist can beat the Belgian painter Alfred Stevens (1823-1906) in rendering the beautiful Paisley shawls of fashionable women in Belgium and France during the later half of the 19th century:

Alfred Steven's paintings of women with large shawls — Alfred Steven’s paintings of women with large shawls

The original shawls with the buta design were Kashmir shawls, hand-woven in Kashmir with Cashmere goat wool. They were expensive and had to be imported. The invention of the Jacquard loom made it possible for Europeans to produce similar shawls. The Scottish town of Paisley became the center for this industry, and gave name to the droplet, leaf design. The National Museum of Scotland, located in Edinburgh, has a nice collection of early Paisley shawls and designs:

1848 design of a Paisley shawl, painted in gouache on paper

Now that Kerstin and I have made our 1850s dresses, we need shawls. So how would one be able to get an antique, Paisley shawl? One could be lucky, like blogger Beauty_for_Ashes, and stumble upon one at an antique mall (and the blog is hilarious), but that is rare.

But we were equally lucky. Our aunt Eva, who had followed Augusta’s Journey, called us one day and asked if we wanted some old nightgowns, lace, ribbons, and an old shawl that she had inherited from two of her aunts. Within a week, the package arrived by mail – and it contained a Paisley shawl from the mid-1800s!!! I don’t think we even realized at first what a treasure this shawl was. Of course, we don’t know that this one was made in Scotland, but it is antique and has the distinctive paisley pattern. After consulting with an expert, we decided that it would be OK to divide it into two shawls, so we each get one. Kerstin is now lining it with thin fabric so we can mend it where the threads are weak.

Mid-1800s Paisley shawl. Photo credit: Kerstin Melin.

But maybe we should also have some additional scarves. As I was going to be in Dubai for a while, I decided to check out the shawl market. The first week, we made a trip to Sohar, Oman, and found a traditional, Kashmir store. The manager was from Nepal and showed me the various qualities and styles. I settled on a large, red, machine-embroidered, square shawl in a blend of cashmere wool and cotton.

Now I needed a green shawl and it had to be the right green color for my dress made out of thrift-store, green-and-white curtains. Back in Dubai, I figured the best place to find one would be around the old Gold Souk in Deira. This is one of my favorite places in Dubai, and especially late in the evening: the myriads of people from all over the world – Asia, Africa, Europe, America – crowding the sidewalks under blinking neon lights, maneuvering around the plastic chairs and tables of chicken and shawarma restaurants, and side-stepping delivery push-carts. And the sounds: music streaming from air-conditioned souvenir stores, the latest Arabic love songs from street cafés, and the singsong message of those pesky street vendors who descend on tourists – “Pashmina, handbags, watches, Gucci, Louis Vuitton, …” I wave them off before they have finished their rant of famous fashion brands.

We are getting closer to the actual entrance to the Gold Souk, and I have yet to see a shawl that is of high quality or the right color. When the next street vendor starts his rant about pashmina, why not elicit his help? But honestly, what is pashmina? I had actually looked it up before going on my shawl hunt.

Pashmina refers to the finer fibers of the wool from cashmere goats local to Kashmir and Nepal. The courser fibers are called cashmere. The fine pashmina fibers can only be hand spun, so Pashmina shawls are all hand-made in Kashmir using hand-spun, 100% pashmina fibers. Cashmere shawls, on the other hand, are made with the courser, cashmere fibers and can be blended with other types of wool or fibers – such as silk. The fiber blend has to be stated; for example, 70% cashmere: 30% silk. So my Cashmere shawl from Oman was 50% cashmere: 50% cotton.

The street vendor gets excited and leads us into an alley with small Afghan shawl shops. This is his job – to introduce us to the shop keeper – and then leave. I tell the shop keeper what I am looking for and he shows me what I definitely don’t want – but, as a European, I am supposed to want.

As the communication is not working, I start digging in his piles of shawls with my dress-fabric sample as a color guide. I find a shawl that perfectly matches the color of the dress and it has a nice paisley pattern. But, of course, it is probably made of viscose or something similar. “Ma’am, this is 100% pashmina, best quality – you can wash it in machine!”

Well, if it was 100% pashmina, you would not be able to machine-wash it.

What is the price?

As customary, he shows me the price on a pocket calculator: 550 AED ($150) – are you kidding me! Azzeddine, my patient husband, asks me about my reservation price; I whisper “40 AED” – that is $12, the price I would be willing to pay at TJMAXX or Target in the US, or at Carrefour in Dubai, if they had the shawl.

The shop keeper tries to go half way – 250. He is not going to budge. Neither is Azzeddine. I show my lack of interest by walking out of the store. Azzeddine, still determined to get me the shawl, pulls out a 50 AED note and puts it on the counter with the body language signaling that either you take it or we leave. The shop keeper, without saying a word, reluctantly puts the shawl in a plastic bag and hands it over.

OK, $14 is still reasonable for a non-cashmere, non-pashmina shawl that has the right color and pattern. I am sure I could have had it for half the price if push came to shove.

And of course, as the weeks go by, I find other pretty shawls and scarves that I just have to buy. At least I am getting better at bargaining.

Which brings me back to Augusta: where did she buy her shawls? Were they imported? What did they look like? Does anyone in our large, extended family have one, or a reference to one?

We will keep digging, in letters and archives.

Travel Advice and Hotel Etiquette for Ladies in the 1800s

Eduard Gaertner ( 1801-1877) Unter den Linden mit Oper — Eduard Gaertner (1801-1877) Unter den Linden mit Oper

Berlin, 3 July 1847

“In a couple of exquisitely decorated rooms in Hôtel de Rome on Boulevard Unter den Linden, yours truly is sitting with pen in hand to recall from memory the wonderments I have seen since my arrival in the great Prussian capital.”

This is Augusta’s first description of a hotel on the European continent during her and her mother’s journey down to Prague. There are not many remarks regarding hotels in Augusta’s diary but Hôtel de Rome must have been the most impressive hotel. There, they engaged a servant to show them the attractions of Berlin.

Two days later, they arrived at Hôtel de Saxe in Dresden – the most luxurious hotel in town.

“Our stay here at Hôtel de Saxe is very nice and I would say elegant, if I had not just arrived from Berlin, with its fabulous, luxurious furnishings. There are certainly not, as at Hôtel de Rome, six or seven doormen in livery to greet you on the stairs and to take the things you carry. I have to admit that these elegant and conversable domestics made me embarrassed upon my arrival in the great Prussian capital. Here in Dresden, you miss the elegant, carpeted vestibules and staircases, this wealth of stuffed armchairs, canapés, and sofas; however, Hôtel de Saxe, although not as brilliant as Hôtel de Rome, is both gentile and comfortable.”

What could one expect from luxury hotels in the mid-1800s and what was expected of the guests?

In 1860, the American author Florence Heartly published The Ladies Book of Etiquette, and Manual of Politeness. The book includes chapters on Travelling and on How to behave at a hotel.

“After breakfast, pass an hour or two in the parlor, unless you are going out, whilst the chambermaid puts your room in order.”

It just so happens that while writing this blog today, I am staying at a hotel in Dubai and Heartly’s suggestion sounded like a good idea. Heeding the advice, I took Florence Heartly’s book and Augusta’s diary with me and headed for the “parlor” (aka, the mall connected to the hotel). Heartly’s second advice also sounded good: “It is best always to carry writing materials with you.” I skipped her next etiquette rule for hotels: “Never sit down to the piano uninvited, unless you are alone in the parlor.” Instead, I ordered a cappuccino and started reading Heartly’s book – highlighting advice that Kerstin and I might need for our Göta Canal cruise and our train journey through Germany (with the exception of those regarding an escort):

Regarding your escort

If you travel under the escort of a gentleman, give him as little trouble as possible … [!]
It is best, when starting upon your journey, to hand your escort a sufficient sum of money to cover all your expenses … [hmm]
Find out the position and number of the stateroom occupied by your escort, in case you wish to find him during the night. [that is, if you were able to secure a stateroom to sleep in on the steamboat]

Regarding sea sickness

…never leave home without a straw-covered bottle of brandy, and another of camphor, in your carpet bag.
Try to occupy yourself with looking at the country through which you are passing, or with a book.

Regarding your luggage

Have a strong pocket made in your upper petticoat, and in that carry your money, only reserving in your dress-pocket a small sum for incidental expenses.
In your travelling satchel, carry an oil skin bag containing your sponge, tooth- and nail-brushes, and some soap.
Have also a calico bag with hair brush and comb, some pins, hair pins, a small mirror, and some towels. In this satchel, carry also some crackers or sandwiches…
In your carpet bag, carry a large shawl, and if you will travel by night, … your night clothes and what clean linen you may require …
If you carry a novel …, it is best to carry the book in your satchel.
If you are to pass the night in the cars, carry a warm woolen or silk hood – that you may take off your bonnet at night. No one can sleep comfortable in a bonnet.
Carry also … a large shawl to wrap round your feet.

At the hotel

When you arrive at the hotel, inquire at once for the proprietor. Tell him your name and address, and ask him to conduct you to a good room…
It is best to mention the time when you wish to breakfast, dine or sup.
If you stay more than one day … request one of the waiters always to meet you as you enter, and wait upon you to your seat.
When you have finished your meal, cross the room quietly; if you go into the parlor, do not attract attention by a hasty entrance ….
A lady’s dress, when alone at a hotel, should be of the most modest kind.
Never, even at supper, appear alone at the table with bare arms or neck.
If you wish for a carriage, ring, and let the waiter order one for you.

Those were Heartly’s advice for travelling ladies. Augusta and her mother probably knew all about travelling etiquette. Now, Kerstin and I will also know what is expected of us when we embark on Augusta’s Journey.

William Powell Frith (1819-1909 ) The Railway Station

In need of a hatbox

I have been in need of a hatbox ever since I successfully constructed a bonnet. Kerstin already has two hat boxes – one that she made from a round IKEA gift box and one that she received from a good friend. And of course I really wanted to make one too.

This week we visited my cousin and talked about Augusta’s Journey and of obtaining material for making an 1850s wardrobe. We have been getting most of that (lace, fabric, etc) from thrift store curtains and table clothes. Relatives have also given us boxes of lace and turn-of-the-century night gowns. We are so excited about getting everything made for our Göta Canal cruise at the end of May.

“I think I have a hatbox in the basement”, said my cousin, “it doesn’t look very nice but if you can use it, you can have it.”

The hatbox was indeed interesting with shipping information and stamps on it. The box was shipped in 1931 from Hartley & Boedeker Ltd Manufacturers in Manchester, England to Hadar Carlsson’s hat store in Köping, Sweden.

The postage consisted of 3 stamps with George V image and a Swedish stamp asking for an additional 10 öre as the postage had not been enough for the shipment. So before I did anything to this hatbox, I saved the labels and stamps.

Then the fun began. First, I had to make a new lid as the original one was not in the greatest shape. That was done using cardboard and glue.

For coverage, Kerstin suggested that we use fabric for bookbinding to cover the outside and nice bookbinding paper from Washington DC for the interior. To cover the lid, I used a remnant piece of IKEA furniture fabric.

Last but not least, I used an old leather belt to hold the lid in place.

Dress Detectives

– Do you remember when we tried on Augusta’s dresses in the attic of Aunt Agneta? Kerstin asked me.

No … I didn’t remember that. I remember staying in the 18-century washhouse by the lake shore in which our aunt had lived during our childhood summers.

– Sure you were there too! It was probably in 1977. There was an old trunk there with two dresses. They were both beautiful ball gowns. One was made of pink silk taffeta and the other one was a purple velvet dress. And they were so small – there were bones sewn into the bodice and I couldn’t even fit into it because the waist was so small – and I was just a teenager!

I wish I remembered, but I didn’t. So, were they Augusta’s gowns and where were they now? A few phone calls to cousins shed some light on the dresses. The ones Kerstin had tried on were probably gone. But there was still a suitcase with dresses that our aunt had kept, and our cousin invited us to come and see them.

Nestled in tissue paper were lace blouses, silk shoes, finely knitted stockings, lace cuffs, parasols, and dresses! The first dress we uncovered was a bright purple, silk taffeta dress. It had a form-fitted bodice and a separate skirt. Kerstin and I examined it as if we were some dress detectives. Could it be Augusta’s?

First we looked at the skirt and realized right away that the model was later than those in the 1850s and probably even Edwardian. The bodice, with a high neck, also pointed to a later date.

And then we realized that some seems were machine stitched.

The first European sewing machine company was founded in 1863 and in Sweden, Husqvarna started making sewing machines in 1872.

Could it have been Augusta’s daughter, Gerda’s? Gerda was born in 1854 and if it had been hers, she would probably have worn in around 1874. We all agreed that it was not likely Gerda’s as she was not very tall, and this dress was made for a tall person. The silk shoes in the trunk were also a European size 40 (US 9.5).

If it was not Gerda’s could it have been her daughter, Eva’s? Eva, our grandmother, was born in 1884 and if it would have been hers, she might have worn it around 1904.

The dress had a train in the back which would have brushed the floor. This was typical of the first decade of the 1900s. The high neck was also popular at this time.

And looking at fashion plates from 1907-1908, there are some very similar styles.

Admitting that we are only amateurs at fashion history, we do believe that the clothes in the trunk belonged to our grandmother and not our great-great grandmother, but that is also really cool!

And who knows, maybe someone in the family has a photograph of Eva in this dress!!!

My Valentine’s Dress

A couple of weeks ago, I finished my Victorian laced corset and the corded petticoat. Time to make the 1847 dress using my beautiful fabric from Sweden. All blogs tell you that you should make a test dress first in some cheap cotton to make sure the pattern works.

Well, I didn’t even have a pattern. After having tried for a week to create one, I decided to spend $18 on a well-reviewed pattern suitable for the California Gold Rush, the Mexican American War, and the Oregon Trail. For this dress I would need almost 7 yards of fabric. Did I really want to spend that much money on a test dress?

I checked out thrift stores instead and had some luck. I found several pieces of a pretty fabric with lots of ruffles – maybe some bedroom set? For $4 I got 3 Laura Ashley ruffled curtains and a matching round table cloth – probably about 7 yards in all and perfect for the project!

The pattern arrived in the mail with 51 pages of instructions and patterns for 3 different dresses. I picked the simplest design and began the work. I had no idea how time consuming it would be – but the instructions were very clear. Unfortunately, the size I had cut out was too small and I had to adjust and add pieces here and there. I guess that is the reason for doing a test dress.

Just as in the corset, there were bones to be inserted in the bodice. But I didn’t have any more and I couldn’t find any locally either. What else could I use? The eureka moment came when I found nylon cable ties that were of the right dimension! It worked perfectly.

About 40 hours later, on Valentine’s Day, the dress was finished. Hopefully it will take less time to make the one with the expensive fabric!

How do you make a Victorian laced corset?

When we first started Augusta’s Journey, Kerstin got interested in the fashion of the time – the late 1840s – and decided to start making historically accurate clothes. Her first garment was a laced corset – the must-have underwear of the Victorian era (the original Victoria’s secret 🙂 ). It was beautiful! And it looked really professional.

“Here,” Kerstin said, “try it on! And by the way, you need to make one too.”

The next day, we spent a few hours copying the pattern she had altered from an online source (“Please be aware this pattern if free and does not come with instructions”). With the pattern, she gave me enough fabric, ribbons, and 26 fake whale bones. The next day we purchased the required hardware: a front-planchette and brass grommets.

This all happened in November.

Two weeks ago, I finally opened the bag with all the materials and put it in nice little heaps on my sewing table. And then I looked at the pictures of Kerstin’s finished corset. Somehow, I should just be able to convert all the materials into that! With no instructions.

Then I remembered that Kerstin had bought an adjustable dress form for this project, and I thought, that must be the magic trick. It would just be like the TV series Project Runway. I would simply pin up the fabric on this dummy and start making creative clothes. That led to a week of agonizing over types of dress forms – adjustable (expensive) or cheap one-size forms (bad reviews) and lots of other alternatives. I just needed one that looked like me and one on which I could pin the fabric. Of course, you could probably make one…? Googling “make your own dress form” led me to great video instructions of the Duct Tape Dress Form. This is where you wear a t-shirt and have someone wrap you in duct tape (no, I am not including those pictures 🙂 ). This creates a form of your body that you will then fill with pillow stuffing. And that is what I did, and it worked beautifully.

So now there were no more excuses – I had all that I needed.

I thought it would just take a day or two. I hadn’t realized that there were 5 pattern pieces for a total of 20 fabric pieces to cut out and stitch together. Then 26 channels to be stitched for the bones, using ribbon. And then there were the questions of which seams to stitch in what order – which was up and down, left and right, inside and outside, and how should the hardware be fitted into the seams?

While getting my head around the 3D questions, I felt grateful to my mother who always let us use her sewing machine and had cartons full of fabric and ribbons for us to use; to my father who was a good role model by sewing sails and beach bags for our sailing summer vacations; to my elementary school teacher, Miss Sörén, who taught us the importance of perfect seems (I didn’t appreciate it at that time); and to my middle school teacher who taught us how to make clothes. And most of all to Kerstin, who had done all the research and provided me with a pattern and assured me that I could also make a corset, just like hers.

Day after day, the piles of materials were shrinking and the corset was taking form. Embellishment was of course up to me. Kerstin had used lace and embroidered her corset. I found some beautiful antique napkins with tatted lace in a local thrift store and used the lace on the front.

After 2 weeks, I had finally succeeded in making the laced corset.

Now for the next project: make that 1847 skirt and bodice (and then a bonnet, an umbrella, a purse, and shoes). Watching BBCs drama series about Queen Victoria is a great inspiration though, and there are so many beautiful dresses I can only dream about making. Stay tuned 🙂 .