Remember how I'd been hoping to fix my blue yarn enough to use? I can definitely say that both conditioner and lanolin (especially the lanolin) do make the yarn much nicer to the touch, but do not adequately help the tensile strength to use the yarn for a project, even when I'm being gentle with it.

With lots of fudging, and catlins2busy's patented "half-life method," I've managed to get the sleeves in without them causing too much wibble in the fabric right around the armscye!

Woo!

A while ago I did a first mockup of a Sture doublet using a bought pattern, and had epic fail. The length of the front and back pieces were different, the armscye was way too big for the sleeve (which many people blamed on my adding extra width to the sides to accommodate a beer belly as I felt had been done in the original), and there were niggles that I had with the overall look.

( The second muslin has fared better. )

Having taken a class by Lady Blitha of Wolfhou on medieval needle cases, I decided that I wanted to make a more contemporary needle case, as the one I've been wearing for several years is technically Bronze Age, and I knew I could create something both shinier and higher-status. I used a 9th century Norwegian find, on p. 241 of Roesdahl and Wilson's From Viking to Crusader catalogue, as my inspriation. It turned out to be rather easier than I'd expected.

( Process Under the Cut )

I'm making a Sture outfit for thirteenletters, and it's not going well yet.

Normally, when I sew, I apply fabric to the end wearer, and remove what isn't the garment in question. I decided to use a paper pattern for this particular outfit--Reconstructing History's 506, informed by Janet Arnold's take on the same outfit--and I feel I'm way outside my comfort zone. I have several problems in this garment so far that tell me I simply do not grok what's going on.

( Cut for photos and lengthy text )

Have been in headspace lately that's making me want to exert a little control over entropy--or more so than being a professional organizer affords me--so I've been thinking about ways to "fix" the yarn from the indigo vat from January wherein I added too much Spectralite. The yarn had come out all brittle and flaky, like over-processed hair, and I was quite disheartened at having ruined so much handspinning. smarriveurr and someone else had both wondered at me if trying hair conditioner on said icky wool might ameliorate the brittleness and texture, but I was a little too depressed to try it immediately. I needed space, first.

Well, the brain weasels have niggled enough, and I'm feeling the need to be active at fixing things, so I'm making the attempt. I'm soaking my yarn in a 10% solution of Garnier Fructis "Sleek & Shiny" conditioner for at least an hour, and results from the first ball I tried this with (the purple) are promising. Am trying a blue, now, as the purple dries, and we'll see if it works.

Other options may also include some kind of pressed oil (I hear castor oil is good, but that seems a little weird--may go with the grapeseed I already have in the cupboard) or glycerin.

On the Pennsic Project Front, I have also been working on a banner to replace my old one, which I never actually finished. I like this shape better, I think, as it feels a little more authentic for a flag.

The shape is based on the flag on the Olaf Sitricsson coin minted at York in 924. The deer motif is based on the tile from St. Paul's that's now on display at the London City Museum, though I felt I had to modify it a bit to look like a "lodged" stag rather than one that's "statant."

Yay for more historical heraldic display!

In and among the various things I've been making before War this year was something in which to store my SCA "business cards" to give out my contact information to people who squee over the fact that I'm a trained Viking archaeologist. I got the idea from Haandkraft, which I started reading a couple months ago for the sheer awesomeness of the ideas and the motivation to do something with the leather scraps ladymockingbird sent me in exchange for some card-woven trim. I pulled out a couple small pieces of deer leather, and stared long and hard at the source materials in their Birka wallet project (there's a link at the bottom to another Miklagard re-enactor who's done something similar).

I've come to the conclusion that the reproduction they cite is inaccurate. Said reproduction uses two similarly-sized pieces of leather, whereas the original seems to use a single piece for the back of the top and fold it around to make the bottom pocket, with only a smaller second piece for the top pocket. The reproduction also incorporates multiple pockets, and entirely different designs for the decoration from the original; the original doesn't have stitch-holes where the extra pockets ought to be. I opted for two unequally-sized pieces of leather to create my wallet, not least because the piecing let me avoid a small hole in the red leather, of which I used all but a few square cms. I cut a long pointed piece and a much shorter pointed piece, and drove awl-holes through both with a hammer and nail.

Before I stitched it together, I added slits with my teeny little ladies' knife from Ragnar, which smarriveurr sharpened so that it goes through flesh like butter. The original, I think, had strips of metal woven through in groups of three, but I neither have sheet metal laying around nor think I'm sufficiently coordinated not to cut myself with it, so I opted for only a single thong of contrasting-colour leather to decorate it. (Bonus: it vaguely resembles the "bordure gules bezanty" part of my arms) With a single piece of leather, I could thread the thong through with my fingers and didn't need to use an awl.

Stitched together with waxed thread and turned right-side out, I think the shape looks more like the original than the reproduction, and being sized to hold my business cards, I think it'll be a pretty and useful addition to my kit.

Since catlins2busy helped me hem the bottom, I've a dress in a wearable state. I've yet to do the tippets and fitchets, but I'm waiting until I have the fur to do that properly. Am debating whether to reinforce the buttonhole side of the front opening with tablet weaving--I did it in the underdress, and I like the look, but I haven't any string in an appropriate colour for the green layer. Might wear it as-is, or with just faced fitchets, at Pennsic.

Have the seams all finished, the sleeves hemmed, and the facings installed around the neckline and the left front opening. (The extant Herjolfsnes clothing all seemed to have the buttons on the right side as worn, hopefully corroboratable with London material, so that's what I'm planning.) I've made all the buttons with the scraps left from cutting the dress. I have those to sew on, as well as sewing the buttonholes and probably adding a little tablet weaving to that edge of the opening, and then hemming the bottom (for which I'll probably offer a local friend a bribe of baked goods) and it'll be wearable.

Am still having difficulty planning the tippets and fitchet outlines, mostly because while I understand how to sew fur to itself am not too sure whether it all translates to sewing fur to cloth. I've found remarkably little information about it on the internet, even from PrimitiveWays, my usual first stop for bushcraft. Am hoping to order How to Sew Leather, Suede, Fur to see if it has useful advice, and look for recommendations from other enthusiasts I know.

After two separate chalkings of the pieces, I've finally cut and started putting it together. I did most of the long seams with the machine, but have done the two side seams and the centre front seam--as well as putting the sleeves together--by hand. I think all the rest of the sewing will be by hand, as it's all finicky stuff like setting in the sleeves.

I used the same pattern from my red dress, but added a much larger seam allowance so it'll be just a teeny bit bigger--hopefully enough to fit over the red dress without incident.

Am still not entirely sure what to do about attaching the fur. I think I'd like to make it removable so that I can machine wash the linen part of it after Pennsic.

I think I've had a major breakthrough with my understanding of tippets. Through a rather enlightening converstion with gwacie, I'm agreeing that tippets are much more likely to have been integral pieces to the garment, comprised of a turned-back sleeve lining and extension--very obvious in pieces like Machaut's Le Remède de Fortune where a little seam line appears down the back of the tippet that seems to indicate it was pinned or sewn to show the lining off most effectively.

What was sticking in my acceptance of such a construction for tippets shown after 1360 or so was the fact that most of the earlier garments showed the tippets hanging down behind the elbow, while most of the monumental brasses for 1365-1390 showed them hanging down before the front of the elbow: the ladies Foxeley, Joan de la Tour, Joan de Ingham. I couldn't necessarily say that the sleeve opening was being turned back to show the linings in these because they hung differently, and none of the monumental brasses I've seen show that seam.

Now, however, I've seen a brass for Joan de Cobham, wife of John de la Pole, from a brass c. 1380. The tippet for her left arm hangs down in front of the elbow, but her more active right hand (holding that of her husband) shows the tippet hanging down exactly where it seems to be in early-14th-century depictions of tippets. This seems to be my missing link in accepting the construction method for the later-14th-century tippets, so I'm convinced that's a plausible way to do it for my 1365 gown.

Fitchets seem to have been done in a similar material to the tippets--most of the depictions I've seen seem to show the tippets and fitchets in coordinating colours or patterns, so I think I'm going to follow suit.

I just hope I have enough white rabbit saved up to make all the pieces big enough. If not, I may have to find additional quantities of dead bunny.

I found the correct attribution for the monumental brass that shows the dress I like! It's of Sir Miles Stapleton and Lady Joan de Ingham, dating to c. 1365, from Ingham Church, Norfolk. The brass itself has been lost, but I've ordered a book though ILL that's supposed to have a clearer illustration, so I can see whether there's any kind of closure to the front of her dress.

Have a much clearer design now that I've stared at my fabric for a while. I'm glad that staring at it, rather than cutting it, is what gets creativity going.

Am intending, as of today, to do a short-sleeved GFD with tippets and fitchets, like in the oft-reproduced effigy of Joan de la Tour as a weeper on her father's tomb. Admittedly, that representation is at least a decade later than the 1365 date for my red dress, which I intend to use as an underlayer--not to mention that her underlayer doesn't have buttons on the sleeves like mine. I have found a representation, however (digitally reproduced in a Swedish reenactors' forum), that's supposed to be of "Lady Joan Ingram" and her husband from 1365, which shows the tippet and fitchet elements I want in combination with sleeve buttons on the underlayer, and exactly the right date, but I can't corroborate its attribution. Shall have to continue to search for it. ETA: The Church Monuments Society not helpful for this brass.

Have never done tippets before, but I should have enough white linen still stashed to do them (and the short sleeves might save me a little more of the green linen for an extra tunic). Re-read Robin Netherton's MC&T article on tippets where she suggests they were a fashion afterthought, so I'm wondering whether it might be a good idea to sew those entirely separately, then baste or pin them on.

As far as the fitchets, intellectually I might like to embroider them, but nearly all of the fitchets I've seen today that have some exterior embellishment are a plain solid colour. One of them looked a little looping, like it might be embroidered, but I can't be certain. Worst-case, I've done set-in pockets for one of smarriveurr's 18th century waistcoats, so I can put in a facing that way and leave them as slits if I have to. Have any of you worn 18th-century style pockets under fitchets?

Yay for having a plan!

I've decided to cut out a new green linen cotehardie/gothic fitted dress, and I've the hard pieces plotted out in chalk already. Now, I'm considering godets and gores, and the most economical use of fabric. It's hard to get out of the starving artist mentality.

Would appreciate a second opinion: ought godets and gores to be the same width, or doesn't it matter? Was thinking of using thinner godets than gores, as I've a very long, narrow strip of fabric down one selvedge and I'd rather use it up.

...not least because I may still be able to get a Viking tunic out of what I have left!

I've finished smarriveurr's cross-garters, all 6 metres or so of them. The only thing left on my project wish list from last year (that I can recall anyway) is to have hose to go with my red dress. Having consulted with 3 costuming Laurels in a row who've recommended just buying the damnable things, so I've ordered a pair in black linen from Historic Enterprises. Am picking my battles.

Having managed to cross these off my list, my newest project list is as follows:

• Two pair of more accurate shoes than I currently use: one 14th century, the other Viking in style, both fitted to my awkward feet


• Cross-garters to go with my green winingas


• Sture outfit for thirteenletters


• Something to use up the now-fragile wool I ruined in the indigo vat

Finally, I've been debating what to do with my green linen left over from having made an 18th-century waistcoat for smarriveurr. I need to lay it out and decide whether I'm doing a new gothic fitted dress to wear over the red, or whether I'm making a Viking dress with it.

After my indigo vat fiasco, it took me a while to work out exactly what yarn I might have in enough quantity to card weave some new cross-garters for smarriveurr's winingas. Finally settled on a thinner version of the S/reverse-S red-and-gold trim I'd done for my black apron dress, this time in dark and light blue linen (which came through the Spectralite-heavy vat just fine) and dark red wool. The motif is a little simpler than those in the Mammen band--am trying to recall whether the original was found at York or Kekomaki. Could have been both, for all I remember at the moment.

Am justifying the use of two different kinds of fibre by going with the theory that "missed hole" card weaving represents mixed-fibre work, because wool and linen are preserved by very different mechanisms. Plus, I finally had enough fibre. Because of smarriveurr's height, the warps are about 3 metres long. I've dealt with a warp of that length when I did caturah's corset string, but this pattern binds up in a different fashion than did that project.

The pattern looks more awesome than I'd anticipated. I decided to use the red for the motif, the light blue as the background and the dark blue as a thin border. On the Mammen embroideries, the lighter colour was used to outline, but on the card weaving the darker colour was to the outside--I figure the border colour choice doesn't much matter in this respect. Normally I do borders with two cards of background colour and two cards of border colour, but I think the single card of border colour works just fine, and it leaves the cross-garters at about the same width as the last pair I made.

I wonder if I can finish them before the event at the end of the month.

I think Hrefna would be proud: both smarriveurr and I tried our hand at lampworking (making beads from glass) last weekend at Nova Schola, and each came home with a bead. Having utterly terrified myself doing it and being impressed with and encouraged by the result, I may try it again.

I'd mentioned wanting to redo my bead strings, and I have. It turns out 200 is a pretty normal number, but I'm much more comfortable with about this many at once, especially since I also have wire chain smarriveurr made for me to go with it.

Click through to the Flickr view to see notes on what's what, including which one I made.

For a couple years now, I've been saying that I should grow a proverbial pair and work up an indigo vat with which to turn things blue. After all, I'd procured natural lump indigo, some thiourea dioxide to reduce it, and washing soda to give it a favourable environment--all I needed was to get up the gumption to deal with these chemicals of which I've been utterly terrified and manage to turn something from yellow to blue. Fun with chemistry, after all, right?

I had ( mixed results. )

For a couple years now, I've been saying that I should make myself a hood and hose to go with my fantastic red cotehardie/GFD. I'm partway closer to that, having just finished a version of London Hood nr. 246, as presented in Textiles and Clothing.

I chose this design to coordinate with my dress, specifically in reference to time period and location, as many of my dress elements are also from London, or at least are English in design, from the mid- to late-14th-century. I haven't seen hoods in funerary brasses at all, which leads me to think they're either a more gentrified or lower-class garment, or one would never be caught dead in one's outerwear. ;) Poking around among various illustrations of hoods in the period, I've figured out that women didn't dag their hoods, which is fine by me. Another bit of research ruled out sewing it in linen, like I was originally intending, and instead opted for a tabby-woven wool. The colour was also a specific choice out of my stash, as one seems never to have matched hood to dress, but used a contrasting fabric and lining.

( Read more... )