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Simplicity’s 2621 16th Century Underpinnings: Farthingale review

First of all, I want to give props to Simplicity; they’ve really stepped up their game over the past 15-20 years with their period patterns.  I’m sure it’s part whining from costumers like myself about inconsistencies and their marketing and R&D  people telling the higher-ups about such sites as Reconstructing History and the plethora of period patterns.  Or then again, it could be the success of The Tudors, which I have taken the first season to task for their costuming choices here.

The pattern pieces are very, very close to those in Juan De Alcega’s Tailor’s Pattern Book 1589.  In fact, it’s close enough for me never to try to draft a farthingale from De Alcega’s book again.  I’d really prefer to use my own tried and true, and Renn Faire tested pattern from Janet Arnold’s Patterns of Fashion, but time is of ye ole essence, so I’m making do with what I have readily on hand.

The only changes that I recommend making are:

  1. Make life easier on yourself, and do not sew up both side seams until after you sew on the casing for your hoop wire unto the right side of the fabric, stopping about 2-1/2 inches from edges on both sides. [picture below]  After the hoop wire casings are sewn in place, then sew up the remaining seam, remembering to leave an opening as shown on the pattern.Photo-0266
  2. Why do step #1? It is much easier to pull the hoop wire out and re-insert it for washing, and any Rennie worth their weight in, um… well, they know that after a season of Faire farthingales need a good washing and unless you’ve used the plastic-coated hoop wire and have some way to hang the silly thing up, it’s just a lot nicer to be able to throw it into the washer and dryer, I’m just saying.  (Also, now that I’ve used it, not a fan of the plastic-coated hoop wire, too flimsy for anything other than lightweight fabric, which this is for.)
  3. Spacing: if you plan to wear a heavy, jewel-encrusted velvet Noble’s gown, you will want to space your rows of hooping closer together.  I recommend 4 inches rather than the near 6 as laid out on the pattern.  Remember, the more hoop wire, the more stability, and the less likely that your new farthingale will collapse under the weight of your gown.
  4. Cut your hoop wire about 12 inches longer than recommended on the pattern and either use the little metal caps in the cut ends that are sold for this purpose or use the lazy girl’s choice to wrap the edges with a waterproof piece of bandage tape.  This will allow enough extra hoop wire for overlap, and the extra gives you something to grab hold of when you are extracting said hoop wire for laundering and repair.
  5. Number your hoop wire.  After you’ve cut it, use a Sharpie or other brand of permanent marker (color of your choice), and on the backside, write the row number on it.  it will make life so much easier, especially if you are doing this at 3 AM. [Yes, I speak with first-hand knowledge on this, so just trust me.]
  6. Pre-wash both your fabric and twill tape — cotton and linen both are notorious for shrinking more than you would suspect, and nothing is more frustrating than finding out something is now four inches too short (or too small), and there’s nothing that can be done about it.
  7. I suggest using a 3/4 or 1 inch rather than the recommended 1/2 inch wide twill tape on the pattern envelope.  Again, nothing worse than having the odds stacked against you before you’ve even started threading the hoop wire through its casing.
  8. Also, good a better quality fabric than the $1.99/yard muslin special.  For personal costumes, I have “re-purposed” solid-colored bedsheets when I’ve up-sized our mattresses.  A good quality percale top sheet can take the abuse and still give you many years of use as your farthingale base.
  9. Let your farthingale hang overnight or a week if time (and environment) allows before hemming it, putting the last hoop to allow the fabric to stretch itself out naturally. This way, there is no surprise “growth spurts.”

Now, will I use this pattern again? Maybe, maybe not …I haven’t decided yet.

Would I recommend: surprisingly: Yes.  It will serve its country well.

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Eleanora of Toledo Gown — part 5

Fast forward 9 years . . .  Yes, nine years and a brief “retirement” from costuming and I am finally back on track for making this gown, and it’s going to get done in the next month.  Instead of being for me, it is part extravagant birthday present and part reciprocity for proofreading a novel I am writing for a friend and co-worker [Yes, I am a victim of NANOWRI disorder.}

Also since so much time has passed, I’ve been able to rethink some things about construction and linings and stuff, and by luck, my friends at Reconstructing History have taken the time and inclination to create a pattern for the EOT gown so now I don’t have to spend hours swearing while drafting patterns from the scale graphs in Patterns of Fashion.

Wish me luck as I’m changing body type gears from a BBW Californian to a very buxom, petite European import.

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Eleanora of Toledo Gown — Part 3

All things work together . . .  (cira. 8/3/2004) My silk arrived from Singapore on Saturday. The second piece of the lime green is more celery, and it have to be dyed down a tad, and the turquoise is considerably darker than the photo, much teal, sorta that rich deep Aegean sea blue-green. It’s by far less stark and “contrasty” than the Turquoise would have been. It should make wonderful guards, but now what do I use for my corded petticoate? [Can you tell I’ve been watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer on DVD, again?]

Since I was ironing, I had to take the lime silk out, iron it out, and drape it on the chick. This fabric is very lightweight and almost sheer, so I will have to underline the whole thing. I’m thinking bleached muslin because I want to keep the outfit on a whole very light but still have enough opaqueness that whatever color petticoat I end up with doesn’t distort the lime, which is less neon with the new teal trim.

Photo ops will appear shortly.

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Eleanora of Toledo Gown — Part 2

Yipes, that’s loud!  (circa. 7/30/2004) I’m an impatient person occasionally when it comes to wanting to jump in and start a new project, especially this one, as I’ve had the trim for nearly 20 years. In lieu of starting the gown, I’m waiting for my petticoat fabric and another piece of the lime silk to arrive, I whipped out my copy of POF and made a photocopy of the dress. Then I carefully matched the silk to my Prisma color pencil and colored away.

After I regained my vision, I was quite pleased with the initial result. When the turquoise silk arrives, I’m going to do the same thing and color in the guards. Back in the day, I once made an orange, yellow, and mustard oversized Hawaiian print (on a white background) “Jackie O” style outfit and wore it after hours at the fair site. (It was a final exam project for FIDM. The garment design was, the fabric was my own twisted sense of fashion sensibility.) The boys from Queen’s Guard threatened to call HazMat on me – it was great fun. Ah, those were the days.

I’ve done a little research into Period Venetian colors. Thanks to one of my favorite places in cyberspace and the woman who convinced me that BBW can still wear period attire and look marvelous, Oonagh’s Own. Her article on period color got me thinking. While my Lime Green is fairly close to being dead on, the Turquoise has me confused. I can’t think of anything Italian, especially Venice, without thinking of brilliant blues and greens.

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Eleanora of Toledo Gown — (aka “the gown that took me 25 years to finally make.”)

The Beginning:  (cira. 7/22/04) The infamous Eleanora of Toledo Gown – The gown that was 30 years in the making . . .well, not really; but I have had the trim since I worked for House of Fabrics since 1986 or 1987. [Seriously, I could never bring myself to part with it.]

elenoraLike everyone else, I fell in love with this gown the first time I opened my copy of Patterns of Fashion. So the winds of fortune finally blew my way clear to make this delightful gown . . . in 70’s colors so hideous, it screams 16th Century Italian across three counties.  Back in the day, next door to this HOF (that I was babysitting) was a JJ Newberry’s, and they were having a clearance sale (they were closing out their fabric department) and lo and behold, I picked up this trim for 50 cents a yard. I couldn’t resist.  I was going through my rebellious RPF costuming phase and wanted to see how far I could push the envelope before they threw me out for clashing or fainted . . . or offered me the head costomer’s job because I knew more than she did.

I had an epiphany this afternoon while ironing when I glanced up and saw this Lime green Thai Silk and “bink,” a light came on, and I ran to my office and rooted through my boxes and found the trim, and they match, perfectly. Even my husband is amazed. [“I wouldn’t normally go for these colors, especially not together, but wow!” ~ Bryan] This silk is another one of my eBay steals, and even with turquoise that I picked up for a corded petticoat, this whole outfit’s going to cost me less than $50, and it’s all going to be silk!

lime_silk
turq_silk

I’ve also got some hatobi silk that I’m going to be making a camica out of for my Venetian gown, and it will work out perhaps even better for this gown. I’m thinking that this will be a good outfit to wear to Devore next spring, so I’ve got tons of time, which is good because I’m on a “diet” and, with some luck and perseverance, will be about 75 lbs lighter by then.