Bib-front shawl dress & Jane Austen Ball!

My mum and I dressed up for the Jane Austen Ball!

When I was living in Glasgow, my friend and flat-mate Rachel put up some lovely curtains in our living-room. From the first moment I saw them I thought to myself that they would make a lovely Regency-era dress. I eventually told her that I was secretly coveting them, and she very graciously gave them to me.

In the early 1800s there was a popular dress made out of shawls. I did not have many paisley shawls, but I thought these curtains would be a lovely approximation.

I also realised that many of these dresses seemed to have a v-neck bodice. I had recently completed a cross-over gown that had a sort-of wrap-around opening. I didn't want the same effect for this dress, so I thought I'd attempt a bib front/ drop front gown.

A shawl dress from the 1810s

A look at a bib-front dress. It conceals a front- opening dress. 

A fashion-plate of a shawl dress, 1812

I'm not positive if this is a bib-front dress, but it has that look about it. 

A portrait of a woman in a lovely shawl dress.

Another lovely example.

Another extant gown from 1800-1810

The Glasgow Uni Library had the famous "Patterns of Fashion" books by Janet Arnold, and I checked them out, as she had the pattern for a bib-front dress in one of them. I didn't have much practice at scaling up patterns, but I thought I'd give it a try. 

It was very difficult, and I ended up combining my attempted scale-up with my cross-over gown pattern from Sense & Sensibility, which, though not the most historically accurate, are good patterns for beginners. 

Bib-front dress from one of the "Patterns of Fashion" books by Janet Arnold.

The back of my dress

A close-up of the pleats in the back - all done by hand. 

Though I began the dress in Glasgow, it has taken me a very long time to complete it. When I was invited to a Jane Austen Valentine's ball, I thought it would be the perfect incentive for me to finish this dress! At the very end I did resort to a bit of machine sewing, though most of it was done by hand.

The more I reflect on my dress, the more I realise my own dress-making limitations. It did not turn out as I was envisioning it, and it does not fit at all properly! I think I must save up for a good dress-form, or try to make one with some expert or at least informed help. It was very difficult to try to fit it to myself, and to pause in my sewing and put on my stays and try to pin things. So I feel as though the dress is not a true success, but perhaps I can work on it and fit it better to my own figure and to the fashion of the period.

The difficulties of my dress notwithstanding, my mother and I had a wonderful time at the Jane Austen Ball! My mother wore a lovely early 1800s dress that my sister Heather had made several years before. And I also won a prize for the best costume, so I suppose the dress can't have been too bad!

With my mum. I'm so glad she was able to come to the ball with me! My niece Lexi fixed her hair -and she did a perfect job!

After winning my prize. Notice my green shoes? The colour may not have entirely suited my dress, but I bought them especially to go with any late 18th century, early 19th century dresses I might make myself. 

Extant shoes from the 1790-1810 period.

My shoes, which I think are a pretty good modern interpretation.

With my prize. 

Another highlight of the evening was one that we danced the same dance as the famous Netherfield Ball dance which is in the 1995 film version of "Pride & Prejudice". I've always loved that tune, and it is a lovely dance as well. I was even asked by a fellow to dance it, so that was quite thrilling!

Waiting for the dance.

I'm very grateful to my mum for getting these action shots!

First of the Month Baking: Hot Water Gingerbread

I have a charming cookbook: The New 1930 Subscription Edition Modern Priscilla Cook Book. Modern Priscilla was a magazine for women that ran from 1887 to 1930. I have a few copies myself and it was a delightful magazine.

I love the cover of this cook book!

I have owned this cookbook for about fifteen years and have never used it. So I thought I would make something from it once a month, around the first of the month, and see how these recipes turn out!

I do not have any method to my madness - I'm not starting at the beginning and going through the entire book. I'm just going to cook or bake something that takes my fancy. And today that was Hot Water Gingerbread. It looked like a simple recipe, so I thought I would give it a try.

The recipe was simple, and mixed together perfectly.

I like how it says to bake in moderate oven, and still gives a temperature! Earlier cook books often will just do the former. 

How it looked all mixed up!

The centre caved in a little, but I sampled a piece and it still tasted lovely! 

I was very happy with this recipe. I followed the instructions as exactly as I could, with one exception. We didn't have any shortening in the house, so I used cooking oil. It turned out very nicely. I'm just wondering if I should put a lemon glaze on it or just leave it plain. I would recommend the recipe - especially if you're a fan of gingerbread.

Chemisette

For many years I have loved costume history. When I was a young teen, my sister Heather worked at a living history museum, and I had my first taste of recreating historical fashion. Sadly, though, it wasn't until a couple of years ago that I finally learned how to sew. I've been trying to make up for lost time!

Last year I discovered the Historical Sew Fortnightly and joined the group. See: http://thedreamstress.com/the-historical-sew-monthly-2015/ for more information. At that point, and for several years the challenges had been fortnightly. For various reasons, one of them being moving house from Glasgow back to Utah, I was only able to complete two of the challenges! Which is appalling. This year, however, I am determined to complete them all. And I'm off to a good start: I completed the first challenge today: a chemisette.

One of the challenges I attempted last year was a chemisette, which I tried to hand-draft from the example below. It wasn't a complete success - mostly as it was rushed and not large enough. This year I used a pattern from Sense and Sensibility.

My first chemisette attempt.

A chemisette is a wee under-garment worn under a dress (though, intriguingly over a dress too sometimes). It has been seen in fashion throughout history. The one I chose to make is suitable for 1800-1820, but they were used all throughout the 1800s. The 20th century even had an equivalent - the dicky!

An extant example of a chemisette

A chemisette over the dress.

My chemisette completed today.

Under my Regency gown.

Under my 1830s dress.

The Cats of Glasgow

With Miller in June 2014.

Recently a tabby cat well known in the West End, especially by students of the University of Glasgow, died. He was a venerable old fellow of eighteen years named Miller. He was well loved by those who walked by. I myself always saw him on Hillhead Street. Apparently he was named the Adam Smith cat, as he was often seen hanging about that building.

During my four year stay in Glasgow, though, I was cheered by many cats in the West End. There was a wee black cat that used to meet me on my way to work early in the morning. He would greet me and follow me part of the way there. As I had left my own feline back in the states, it was very cheering to have these encounters with Scottish cats. So, in honour of Miller, I thought I would dedicate this post to them. 

A wee Scottish Fold! 

This rare beauty was always a delight to see!

A close-up.

This lovely ginger tabby was always hanging about at my church. 

The exotic one again, seen above. 

A black cat seen on Great Western Road.

This tortoise-shell I only encountered once.

This black cat is the one who often met me on my way to work.

I was grateful to be able to have some nice cat friends in Glasgow. They often cheered my days! 

St Mungo: My Favourite Celtic Saint

An embroidery piece I'm working on of St Mungo

Even before I moved to Glasgow in September 2010, I had heard of that city's patron saint. My sister and I had discovered a charming mystery series set in Glasgow in the 15th century. I recommend it - the author is Pat McIntosh. However, as soon as one is in Glasgow, St Mungo is ever present - on the sides of buildings, on bridges, everywhere you turn the Glasgow city coat of arms is seen, and therefore, the symbols of St Mungo's miracles. 

In honour of his feast day, which is today, I thought I'd focus a post on the life of this saint. 

A figure of St Mungo in the Memorial Chapel on the University of Glasgow campus. 

According to his hagiography, Saint Mungo (or Kentigern, as he's officially known) was born to a noble woman who was raped by a man dressed up as a woman, as she did not want to marry. Her father banished her by throwing her down a hill (as they lived in a hill fort it is assumed). Some say it might be Traprain Law on the east coast of Scotland. After this she was put out to sea, in hopes that she would not survive. When she reached the shore, however, she was taken in by St Serf, and when Kentigern was born, Serf brought him up.

The plaques below the ladies bear the Glasgow city seal. 

While still a youth, he performed two of his best known miracles. St Serf had a pet robin which was killed by a group of boys. Mungo brought it back to life, much to the delight of St Serf. The other miracle happened when Mungo was set to guard the fires and keep them alight. The other boys, in a fit of jealousy, put out all the fires. Mungo lit a hazel branch and kept it burning through the night.

A beautiful statue of Mungo above the entrance to the Kelvingrove Museum.

My favourite of the miracles concerns the queen of the local king at that time who went to Mungo for help. She had been having an affair with one of the king's men, and had given her lover a ring. The king had taken this ring from the man and thrown it into the river. He then demanded the ring from his wife, else he would put her to death. She took this plight to the saint and he instructed that a salmon be fished out of the river and upon cutting it open, they would find the ring inside. And so it proved to be, and queen was spared. I've always found it intriguing that he assisted a woman in such circumstances.

St Mungo's tomb in the cathedral.

 Of course, many stories from a saint's hagiography are complete fiction. And Mungo's Life does not have the advantage that others have, of being penned shortly after his death. The two that we have (one of which is only a fragment) were penned during the time that Glasgow was being promoted as the religious centre in Strathclyde area of Scotland. 

On the side of a house inside the Botanic Gardens.

In an article by Alan MacQuarrie published in The Innes Review, these later accounts of Mungo's life are discussed, as well as earlier sources that were available to the authors, but which are lost to us. He also tries to pick out which elements of Mungo's life might actually be true. Though it is difficult to discover which is truth and which is fantasy, it is fascinating to see how the stories of St Mungo's life have inspired not only the people of Glasgow, but people all around the world. 

Goals for the New Year

Growing up, I feel that New Years resolutions were always regarded as a sort-of joke. One didn't really intend to keep them. One year, thanks to my good friend Rachel, and my flat-mate at the time, I was pretty successful at keeping those pesky resolutions. This year I decided to call them goals, and suddenly it seemed quite an exciting prospect for the New Year.

One of my goals was to start a new blog. Whilst I was living in Scotland, I kept a blog, ostensibly to keep my family in America informed of my goings-on. But I found that I really looked forward to doing it, and it was a good record for myself of my glorious time in Scotland.

I graduated last year with a MA in archaeology. At this point in my life I am not using that degree. But I thought I could use this blog to discuss the archaeological and historical things which interest me, as well as any historic needlework projects I might be working on. Archaeology has often been described as a magpie-like profession, as it gleans things from many other disciplines: science, history and philosophy to name a few. As this blog will be a little bit of everything, I thought it apt to borrow the magpie comparison.

Thank you for reading, and Happy New Year to you all!