Victorian, Edwardian, and Modern Costumes from CUT!

Yesterday I showed you some of the earlier era gowns from the Bowers Museum's CUT! Costumes and the Cinema exhibit. Here are the post-Romantic era costumes:

Once again, underpinnings are important. Have a cage crinoline. 

And a lobster tail bustle. 

I love it when they put in details nobody's likely to see, like the lace and tiny tucks on these drawers. 

Structure underneath the gown is required to get the amount of poof in Carlotta's dress from Phantom of the Opera.
Although this seems to need another petticoat, judging from the line going across the skirt.

The back of Carlotta's dress.

I'd never heard of The Land of the Blind, but this is a Red Dress, capital letters deserved. Ridiculously difficult to photograph, though. 

A bit less voluminous: classic bustle gown from Portrait of a Lady. 

The frilly back.  

More smocking goodness, from Miss Potter. 

Scarlett's Johansson's dress from The Prestige.

If ever a dress looked like a wedding cake, this would be it. 

Moving onto the Edwardian era: Uma Thurman's military-inspired outfit from The Golden Bowl. 

I believe this was an original Edwardian piece layered over a new underdress. Oh, that pouter pigeon front! 

Kate Winslet's dressing gown from Finding Neverland. 

First thought: absolutely breathtaking. Second thought: good golly, that must be a beast to move around in. 

Seriously. That. Detailing. 

Maggie Smith's dress from Gosford Park and a beaded gorgeousness from Mrs. Dalloway. 

Teens era. This coral dress could be from Downton Abbey, except that it's actually from In Love and War.

The most modern thing I took a picture of: a gorgeous teal-gray bias cut gown, but I don't remember what movie it's from! I want to (and Mr. Cation wants me to) make a gown like this so badly. 

For an aspiring costumer like myself, it was like two hours of heaven. I took so many pictures, hoping to capture all the exquisite details, but unfortunately the dim lighting made some of them quite fuzzy. Next time, I'm bringing a sketchbook! It's funny, since I've become interested in costumes and historical fashion, I've gone to so many more museums (and been more interested once I'm there!). From the De Young's Gaultier and Nureyev costume exhibits, to the Legion of Honor's Cult of Beauty exhibit, to the incomparable V&A, and of course the FIDM museum's yearly award-winning-costume exhibits, an interest in clothing has given a focus to my museum attendance.

Even a scrimshaw exhibit has fashion bits in it! Look at that classic Romantic era gown. Apparently, whalers used to use Godey's Lady's Book as source material for their carvings. Who would have thought?!

See, I've always believed strongly in the importance of museums; my dad started us young on going to look at art and science museums, but there was never really anything I particularly wanted to see of my own accord. Now, instead of cursorily checking out museums because I should, I actually enjoy going (what a revolutionary thought!). Costume exhibits are especially fun, but even having a rudimentary grasp of historical fashion has given me a framework to hang actual history on, if you know what I mean. I'm learning so much more about world history now that I need to research things like the textile industry, peasant life, and political statements through clothing color. If only I had discovered this earlier, who knows, I might be a history teacher instead of a science teacher! This just gives me more reason to keep incorporating things beyond the curriculum/textbook, because one never knows what might catch a student's eye and inspire more learning. Here's to not being a lazy teacher! 

CUT! Costume and the Cinema Exhibit at Bowers Museum

Fanny Campbell, female pirate, 19th century scrimshaw. Perfect for the "By the Sea" HSF challenge, right?

I've been traveling so much for work, and Mr. Cation has been so busy wrapping up his thesis project for school, we haven't had much time for dates. So this past Saturday, we took some time to go check out the Bowers Museum in Santa Ana together. Okay, I'll admit that it was really my idea, since a costume exhibit isn't really Mr. Cation's idea of fun, but it was still nice to have some downtime together. Plus, we both really liked the scrimshaw exhibit. Anyway, I thought I'd share some of the photos I took of the lovely, lovely costumes. I'm going to split this into two posts, though, since there are quite a few photos! 

I'm so glad they emphasized the importance of underpinnings! 

The conical torso and panniers. 

Panniers are definitely required for this 17th century dress from The Last King.

The back of the Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent's dress, from Ever After. Dubiously set in the Renaissance era.  Check out those gorgeous pleats, though, and the little tassel hanging down from the storm flap collar. 

Captain John Smith's costume from The New World, possibly the worst film ever recommended by Mick LaSalle. 

Slightly more exciting captain: Jack Sparrow, from Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. 

And now for some prettiness: this light blue Georgian gown, complete with screenprinting and embroidery, from The Duchess. 

Absolutely enormous poofy bustle. 

Love the detailing on the sleeves!

And of course, we can't forget Lady G's iconic dress.

This is enough to make me want to sew bound buttonholes. 

The guys got to wear pretty things in The Duchess too. 

...and in Casanova, too. 

Check out the fantastically huge cuffs! Swoon.

More loveliness from that era, but from Goya's Ghosts.  

From the same movie.

Moving forward several decades, here's the Regency era gown that Marianne Dashwood wore in Sense and Sensibility. 

Jane Eyre's Romantic era wedding gown from the 1996 version. Look at that smocking!

Moving along to the 1850s and Little Dorrit. 

Whew! That's a lot of pictures! And that's only the costumes up to the Victorian era; I'll post the later era stuff tomorrow. My only gripe is that it was so dark in the exhibit hall, it was difficult to get good pictures. That, and the weird spotlighting washed out a lot of my detail shots. Still, you get an idea of how amazing these outfits are, and how much work went into making them. It makes me want to sew up costumes from every era; thankfully, my stashbusting commitment reins me in a bit, since I don't have appropriate fabrics or patterns for most of it. That's probably a good thing, though, as the sewing room closet is already full enough of costumes as it is.

Winner Winner, Chicken Dinner Not Provided

Well, it was difficult, but EmSewCrazy and I have selected the winner of the February Stashbusting Sewalong Challenge! Congratulations to Andrea of StitchParade, who made this gorgeous shirt for her very lucky husband!

[source]

Andrea, please contact me at cationdesignsblog [at] gmail.com with your mailing address so we can send you a little something!

I really enjoyed going through all the links and checking out all the generous gifts you all have bestowed on your loved ones. As much as I like selfish sewing*, it's nice to share one's skills and stash with others, too! Here are some of my favorite projects and other top vote-getters from the link party, in no particular order:

Can I help it if I'm a sucker for dinosaurs and turquoise?  Long-sleeved shirt by The Brothers Yount.

Heavenly Handmade's pleated skirt was a hit with you guys, and no wonder; it's absolutely perfect for a little girl!

Isn't Musings of a Seamstress' vest for her husband just the last word in vests? Swoon!

Sewing for others long distance is no easy task, but kbenco pulled it off admirably with trousers for her daughter. 

I want to work with Yentair -- she made this awesome octopus-tentacle print dress for her coworker!

I'm in awe of the beautiful and intriguing design process that led to this origami-esque silk purse for Dashing Marmot's aunt!

Great jaerb, fellow sewasauruses! Keep up the good work, and I hope your changing seasons projects are coming along nicely. My first two projects this month were really more fall-appropriate, but my next make will definitely be springy -- stay tuned!

*If you want to see some of our favorite selfish sewing from this month, go check out our picks over at EmSewCrazy!

At Last: Mad Men Dress Success!

Last year, JuliaBobbin issued a Mad Men dress challenge and I was dubiously inspired by Peggy's sensible plaid dresses. My attempts to create a Peggy dress were thwarted by poor fabric choice, but later I managed to recreate the classic Joan sheath dress silhouette, albeit in a very un-Joan print fabric. Well, almost a year later, I've finally gone and put everything together and made the consummate work-appropriate sheath dress for the Joan-look in Peggy-fabric. As I said earlier in the week, this is Vogue 8319, but with lots of fitting to get the look I wanted, i.e. radiating ladylike professional confidence, instead of shapeless-sack-that-happens-to-be-made-out-of-plaid-suiting.

With thanks to Benedict Cumberbatch for helping me with the back fit in my dream. 

Between the back vent and the stretchy fabric, I can actually take large, comfortable strides!

Let's go for another teaching children means influencing the future of tomorrow pose, or some other equally idealistic inspirational phrase. 

I originally cut the fabric out last fall, but never got around to sewing it for two very silly reasons: 1) I was afraid of potential bubbliness where the princess seams end on the skirt, and 2) I didn't want to deal with inserting a zipper, since at the time I'd made a whole spate of knit dresses and was out of practice. Well, the princess seam ends are still a bit bubbly, but not enough to bother me. Wonder of wonders, though -- I hadn't realized that my mystery-blend plaid was actually stretchy! A very stable stretchy, but stretchy nonetheless. Which means, miraculously, that despite its being a close-fitting sheath dress, it passes the Mena Test! W00t w00t!

Okay, so the seam end bubbliness isn't perfect, but dang near close enough. 

A look at the insides, bound within an inch of its life. It would've
been nice if I had matching bias tape, but I didn't feel like going
out and buying more when I had so much in my stash already. 

Summary:
Fabric: 1.5 yards of a mystery-blend grayish-brown stretchy plaid with quite a stiff hand and a stubborn refusal to press properly, from SAS in Tucson four years ago! The pattern calls for lining, but since I wanted to maintain the stretch factor of my fashion fabric, I didn't bother with lining. The fabric is pretty heavy, too, so I didn't want anymore bulk.
Notions: Bias tape for the neckline and armholes, seam binding, and a tiny eye for securing the back vent (thanks to Amy for the idea!)
Techniques used: Plaid-matching?
Hours: Ten, with a good three hours spent fussing over the fit.
Will you make it again? While I love how a good sheath dress looks, I'm not enamored of how tight they feel when there's no give to the fabric, so unless I find another stretchy woven, I probably won't be making another one.
Total cost: $5. Mystery fabric = no idea of content, but cheap.
Final thoughts: I'm pleased as punch about how nice this dress looks, and especially excited about the lack of a zipper! I think this will become my go-to dress for events where I need to look professional, i.e. parent-teacher meetings and open house and the like. Of course, that also depends on whether I retain the ability to shimmy this over my shoulders, but then I guess I can always go in and add a zipper if necessary. In the meantime, I'll just revel in the fact that Mr. Cation loved this dress. According to him, I've never made anything so professional-looking...I guess my previous incarnation of Vogue 8319 didn't quite pass muster in that department (gee, I wonder why? Although, incidentally, I did wear that version of Vogue 8319 to school for Spirit Week on Superhero day).

Apparently, smiling too hard is also unprofessional, so I'm practicing maintaining teacher composure?

I still have another 1.5 yards of this fabric, so I think I'm going to try to squeeze some cropped skinny trousers out of the remainder of it. IMO, stretchy fabric just asks to be made into fitted clothing so that one can pretend to be all professional while smiling secretly at the comfort of fabric that doesn't constrict.

March Stashbusting: Seasonal Change

It's the first week of March, and things have been heating up in TCOCC; it hit 87 degrees out this past weekend, which is pretty unreal, even for SoCal. This should be getting me in the mood for spring sewing, right? Except that my sewing muse is a contrary one, and I was suddenly inspired to work on a more autumnal-feeling UFO. I had Vogue 8319, a sheath dress, cut out in a brown plaid (does it get anymore autumnal than a brown plaid?) since last year, but never actually sewed it up. And now that it's warming up, it started bothering me that it was still unfinished. Thankfully, San Francisco is still decidedly wintry in feel, so it will still get worn this year. Just think of it as my sewing along with all of you in the Southern Hemisphere who will be moving into fall soon. 

...except that I don't actually have anything to show you! I totally thought that since this was a dress with no waist seam (and it was even labeled "Very Easy Vogue"), it would be a piece of cake to sew up, especially since I decided against lining it. But oh, silly rabbit, sheath dresses are for kids who take the time to fit, or else it will just look like a sack! So my grand plans of finishing it yesterday were trashed, and I spent a good several hours trying to get the dress to fit tightly enough to show that I'm a woman, but loose enough to not raise the hackles of admin at my school show that I'm still a lady? At any rate, two episodes of BBC's Sherlock later, it was past midnight and I finally got the fit right, but the armscyes still needed to be finished and the dress hemmed. I threw it onto the ironing board and went to sleep...where I consequently dreamed that Sherlock's latest case was to help me figure out the mysterious problem of the butt wrinkles on the back of my sheath dress. Well, I'm not going to say no to Benedict Cumberbatch showing up in my dreams to help with fit issues!

All this to say, I've got nothing to show for the beginning of March stashbusting, but I hope to soon. In the meantime, submission has ended for February's contest, and it's time for you all to vote for your favorite stashbusting-for-loved-ones project! Go check out the projects in the link party and cast your vote by clicking on the starred link under your favorite project. You can only vote once, so choose carefully! Voting closes on March 6th, and then Emily and I will choose a winner from the top five vote-gatherers. 

See that little starred "vote" link at the bottom? That's what you'll click on. Also, note that you can't vote for your own project!

While I work on finishing up my dress, allow me to peer into your subconscious and ask: what's the wackiest sewing-related dream you've ever had? 

This Is Why I Learned How to Sew!

When I was a fresh-faced new teacher of 21, I was totally clueless about what teachers wore. I bought something like ten button-up shirts from Express because it was the only store that fit my wide shoulder/tiny waist combination, only to realize that 1) I never wore button-up shirts because I find them uncomfortable, and 2) there's no point in buying expensive teacher clothes because I will destroy them. Chalk dust, dry erase marker dust, chemicals, and general dirt can ruin a wardrobe pretty quickly, especially when you're as clumsy as I am. Eventually, I learned my lesson and turned to Ross for my teacher clothes. One of the first TNT pieces of clothing I bought there was a pair of brown, tweed-like, 100% polyester gauchos. I'm not proud of wearing these to death, but, well, I did, despite the questionable merit of artificial fibers that pilled like mad and the even more questionable ripply hem. Oh, and the ultimate questionability of a garment that makes one's legs look shorter and wider.

Ugh, look at that hem! When I first brought it home, I tried in vain to iron out the ripples. I know better now. 

Broken invisible zipper. One of the reasons why I
don't do invisible zipper anymore. 

Still, I loved those gauchos because they were comfortably loose while looking (relatively) put together. When its invisible zipper gave up the ghost after a year of nearly weekly wear, I seriously felt like grieving. What was I going to wear now?! I even went so far as to wear them with the broken zipper, and force the thing to zip past the broken area, which meant that I had to carefully ration my water intake so as to avoid having to unzip any more than absolutely necessary. Is that TMI? At any rate, it finally got to be so bad that I reluctantly retired these pants. Remarkably, I held onto them through five moves through three different cities, waiting, it seems, for the day when my sewing skills would enable me to reproduce them. Well, I was going through my old clothes the other day, trying to figure out what I could donate before our big move this summer, and I found these pants again. I realized that they were just three pattern pieces -- a yoke, front, and back -- and would thus be easy to make a rub-off of. Hello, second real pair of me-made pants!

Don't these pictures look like inspirational teaching photos or something? 

The lighting, the city background, it's like I'm advertising that you, too, can change the lives of children.

There's some slight drag line stuff going on in the back, but not enough to bother me. I am slightly bothered, though, by how they end at the largest part of my calf. Bothered enough to undo my hem and fix it, though? Nah, not that bothered. 

I knocked these out in an evening and a morning, and while they were definitely easy to pattern and easy to sew, they're also difficult to fit. Since I've gained some weight in the intervening years, the original pants weren't quite a perfect anymore, so I had to guess at modifications to my pattern pieces. Then, the fabric I chose for this (hopefully) wearable muslin was much stiffer than the original, so it didn't drape quite the same way or look quite so slimming; I ended up reducing the hem circumference by a few inches and it still feels a little too wide. I also ended up making my yoke much higher to accommodate the change in how I like to wear my pants now. I can't believe that I used to wear such incredibly low-cut pants! Especially since my torso is really long, I must have looked unnecessarily disproportionate.

I lined up the yoke seams here, so you can see how my new pair is a good two inches higher at the center front. Also about an inch bigger at the hips, but that's neither here nor there. 

I didn't have enough fabric left over for a facing, so I cut my yoke facings out of this linen blend fabric that I had leftover from the second "real" dress I ever sewed. It's a bit hard to tell in this light, but that's both cream-colored and pink seam binding that I used. 

My very invisible, non-ripply hem! Not that it's any real triumph, those, since this tweed is perfect for camouflaging even the clumsiest hand-stitches. Oh, and that's the third color of seam binding there: navy blue!

A better look at how the top of the pants fits on me. 

Lapped zipped on the left side...nearly invisible, thanks to the textured fabric.
Mr. Cation actually couldn't figure out where I had hidden the closure when
he was taking these pictures! 

Summary:
Fabric: A yard or so remnant of 54" wide, grey tweed-y looking mystery fabric from Happy Fabric in Oakland, part of my official stashbusting stash. I did a burn test and there's some kind of natural fiber in it, but it's not wool. Upon consulting the fiber burn chart, it seems to best match the result for hemp, and while the fabric certainly feels scratchy enough, I don't know that my results are really conclusive. Ideally, this style would have used a fabric with less body, but since it's a wearable muslin it's tolerable.
Notions: An eight inch black zipper, a hook and eye, three different colors of seam binding
Techniques used: A lapped zipper (I'd forgotten how to do one and messed up the first time; I had to refer back to my Reader's Digest book), rubbing off a pattern, a catch-stitched hem
Hours: Seven, but at least an hour of it was hand-sewing and another hour for the patterning
Will you make it again? I want to use this pattern as a base for making a pair of very wide-legged trousers, but I'm dubious about whether I can actually pull off that look.
Total cost: $4...the trade-off for mystery remnants is cheapness.
Final thoughts: I'm not sold on 21-year-old me's idea of a good look for work, as the internet seems pretty convinced that wearing gauchos = instant stumpiness, but these pants are certainly comfortable enough, if not terribly flattering. They go well with the numerous cardigans in my closet, and work equally well with heels and tall boots. I think. Like I said, not sold on the idea of gauchos. However, I am terribly pleased that I finally managed to carry out my plan of remaking and replacing this particular RTW garment! So often, I stash random things and save them for years, telling myself that one day I'll actually need/use this. Well, this time it was true! I won't go so far as to say that I learned how to sew in order to carry out this project, but it was always vaguely in the back of my mind. Even though I'm not sure about the advisability of wearing this style, I feel like I've reached some kind of milestone in being able to successfully reproduce the original garment. Hmmm, I think I still have my favorite pair of cargo pants from college (which developed an unfortunately situated hole) stashed somewhere...

One more random anecdote about my early teaching years and the original pair of gauchos: I was wearing them one time and another science teacher said something to the effect of gauchos never look good on anyone. At the time, I didn't know that this type of pants even had a specific name, so I went ahead and agreed with her that yes, they looked terrible. I was such a people-pleaser back then. She gave me a withering look that said well then why are you wearing them? It wasn't until I availed myself of Google that I realized what she was saying, and what I had agreed to.

But enough about naive young me and that first pair -- what about this pair? To take a page from Peter's book, gauchos, yay or nay?