Loose Ends, Obsessions

 

Thought I might chat about loose ends, things I've finished, and what I was up to while submerged plus new skills I acquired. But first, brother Weed. Turns out he was offering variolation, popular among rich families and the educated classes. It was a chance for doctors to make money from preventative medicine for a change. Lots of money. Small pox was endemic to Philadelphia and variolation was known in Africa and Asia for centuries before it was brought to the West. Pure chance that 18th-century doctors added something effective to all their purgatives and bleeding. Amazingly, they also knew staying out of the sun on a hot day, fresh air, and exercise were good for you.

Above, I am channeling the Shrinking version of Harrison Ford in a throwback outfit. Turns out there are FOUR shirts in Blade Runner, plus three ties, two pairs of trousers, and the coat and trench coat. Oh yeah, and the sweater. All in all, a pleasant diversion. This was the golden age of sci-fi films: obscure accessories and cobbled-together props. It's all 3D printing now. The badge was made by the same house that still prints ephemera for Hollywood, using the old machines, signed by the same dude who signed Deckard's name for the movie.

Unclear why I did two of these, obsession brain probably. The bottom one is a kit, mostly from zinc pot metal, with a steel barrel and a dozen or so different screws holding it together. At top, a Japanese replica I was lucky to get, which I disassembled and refinished. The Japanese models were used in Blade Runner 2049. The original firing prop was built from a revolver and a rifle with a custom grip and scavenged items. Made famous in Star Wars, parts-bashed weapon props like this were notoriously heavy. Harrison Ford complained about it in both films. OF COURSE, the hero blaster in Blade Runner had one different part on it not seen in the film, when it reappeared at a Con after many years. So I made both versions. It took me a while to figure out the right Vietnam-era radio part and scope knob for one of them and acquire them online. Therein lies the problem: this level of obsession can be dangerous. if the creativity dries up suddenly, the brain can easily turn to bad things.

Cosplay has a nasty tendency to get bigger and more complex fast. Why not spend years instead of a month putting something together? It's only money. Granted, I learned electronic wiring and a bunch about 3D printing along the way. Aliens found items are hard to come by hence more expensive. The only things I could afford were the M1 steel helmet (modified with diamond-tipped tools), boots (German copies), watch, and the camera lens. The shoulder lights were originally made from a 1980's British home alarm system, with a video light rig and diving lamp handle added on. The microphone is an insanely expensive stereo model actually used for dialogue on set. As with the poor Star Wars ship modelers, the best solution is 3D printing. Many plans are free online, and Etsy offers custom printing. Thank the FSM there are passionate individuals willing to do some heavy lifting. Chef's Creations makes great replica armor and uniforms, with video tutorials on how to assemble the former. The original armor was hammered out of metal and hand-painted with Humbrol model paint. Painting my armor felt very nostalgic.

Needless to say, after this project I crashed hard. I was living alone at the time and with nothing to follow it, things got dark. I finally sacrificed my short commute to move in with Kitty again and with her help I'm back. She suggested I wear all this stuff to work rather than have it just clog up her closet. Maybe not the armor.

Problems

George Weed had a problem. In Woodbury, Connecticut in 1746 he handed off some bogus examples of the colony's script to a known counterfeiter. George informed this fellow that his brother Samuel signed the notes and could imitate any man's handwriting. The counterfeiter got arrested in Fairfield County in October. Weed passed some fake 20's in a local tavern and visited his "friend" in jail, sharing a mug of flip. The doctor advised him to escape. As soon as the counterfeiter was released on bail, he ratted out his co-conspirator. Weed was arrested but promptly ran from the constable.

Around that time, the great actor turned evangelist George Whitefield visited Connecticut. Weed may have seen him, or someone similar like Eleazer Wheelock, which might explain his problems with the Baptist church he attended in Philadelphia in 1765. He called their attempts to curb his preaching a trick that Dr. Faust played with the Devil:

Whereas George Weed has withdrawn himself from this church without applying properly for a dismission, and has since declined to come to show cause for his conduct for which irregularity and refusal, and also for his declining to pay the money he subscribed towards building the meeting house we do therefore erase his name out of the church book and declare him to be no longer of us, and this we do in hope it may be blest for the good of his soul.

Speaking of problems, here is one of the linings I cut for the coat.

At first, I thought this was because I forgot to iron the silk before I cut it. Yet the other lining piece fits fine. They were both cut at the same time, from the same pattern. Nothing for it but to cut another lining for one side. Ino, I could piece the tail, just don't feel like it.

The silk also tends to explode when cut with a buttonhole chisel.  I could have done the fancy-pants individual lining squares between the buttonholes, but this coat isn't nice enough. 

Instead, I get a confetti of tiny pink threads poking through the buttonhole slit. I learned the hard way not to pull on these, as shown below.

As with the pocket flaps, I have learned a new and better way to handle pleats. Not sure why I have been doing them wrong all these years. More on that later.

  
 

Holy hell, where have I been?

I can explain: Well, not really. I got antsy about posting anything on the interwebs, then blogs went out of fashion. Also, I have not made anything in a long while. I would not wish anhedonia on anybody. Anyway, bizarre side effects of chronic pain meds fixed everything.

My partner and I have a new gig at MOAR in October, another chance to portray an actual couple in Philadelphia wondering what the hell is happening in 1776. 

George Weed appears to have been a sad character. A successful doctor (and counterfeiter?) He decided one day he liked preaching better. His hospital employer disagreed with his career change. He was also unsuccessful with freelance preaching in churches. Fortunately, his wife saved the lucrative pharmacy business. I look forward to playing such a conflicted fellow.

I realized I don't own any wool frock coats, and my unlined linen one is so old the outside is lighter than the inside. I'm going to use the Ryan pattern again, mostly because it fits me, but let's assemble it with Henry Cooke's directions. The wool is from Renaissance Fabrics and the salmon pink silk lining comes from B & T. The silk is pretty sheer. Add to that black death's heads from Blue Cat.

Okay, that pocket flap lining needs a bit of ironing, but Henry's directions make this process SO much easier. I dislike the size of the Ryan flaps, so these are scaled down to go with the small cuffs. The wool is pretty thin, so a folded edge is possible, but I'm lazy. It seems to hold a cut edge well enough. If I had it to do over again, I'd trim the turned silk edges because they show through the lining. Note the buckram in that pocket flap is not sewn to anything. I learned this the hard way after several attempts to anchor it.

Flip the coat front over and here is the interfacing getting stitched against the front edge. Note the huge honking 5/8" seam allowance. Don't worry this will get trimmed. The buckram is actually set 3/4" back so the silk lining gets 1/8" overlap. 

Note the pocket bag. I'm tacking the top corner to the buckram, so the bag doesn't fight with the free edge.

The button side of the coat is in limbo till the buttons get here, but there are ten buttonholes to do on the other side once the lining is in. Stay tuned.

 

Jackets and adjustments

"I am exceedingly obliged for your exertions in forwarding reinforcements to this army. I like your plan exceedingly of equipping the troops with Jackets, as I am persuaded these may be had, and coats cannot; and tho' they are not quite as sightly, they will serve to render them comfortable." 

--Gnl. Greene to Gnl. Steuben January 7th 1781

Back to our favorite obsession, the US Southern Army in North Carolina. Fort Dobbs timeline hosted Kitty for the first time (as a disgruntled 16th century colonist,) and the fifth iteration of the ragged-ass Continental. A dearth of roads and wagons left them under supplied, but years of experience made them tough with a taste for campaigning.

The above tantalizing clue from Greene's correspondence paints an interesting picture of the time before Guilford Courthouse. Steuben appears to have pushed jackets pretty hard as a remedy to uniform shortages. Quality was lacking, and they were unlined, but better than nothing.

Philip Katcher's Uniforms of the Continental Army, describes rebuilding the North Carolina regiments after the debacle at Charleston. The public store at Halifax had "Pieces Course Blue Frieze," as well as "Soldiers woolen Jackets." Were jackets waistcoats? Did they have sleeves?

As a purely speculative venture Kochan and Phillips serge was laundered repeatedly to give it a frieze-like hand. The jacket is similar to British light infantry types. Cheap and cheerful. It should cover the waistband of the breeches or overalls.

Here is where photographs come in handy. Even with the shadows the body of the jacket looks okay, but the sleeves are way too big. A bunch of material can be removed from the seams to make them snug. Leave some ease around the elbows.

Always good, especially with new projects to look at photos of yourself for fit issues. Similarly a breeze on your hind quarters means your shirt is too short. A blanket cape is a great accessory to shield the public.

First Person Redefined

It's been a fantastic couple of weeks. Fort Dobbs is finally open and spectacular. The Museum of the American Revolution reprised their Occupation of Philadelphia event, so Elizabeth Weed and Thomas Nevel returned to amuse the public. Both places were an excellent chance to refine lower class and middle class 18th century characters. The servant at Dobbs was a Virginia man fleeing the frontier war who joined the Carolina Provincials and became an officer's valet. Thomas Nevel was a historic Philadelphian, one of the city's leading builders, stuck between the British, his cheapskate clients (Congress,) and his feelings for the Widow Weed.

  The most important part of first-person interpretation is realizing it's impossible to replicate the 18th century mindset. We have no idea how they thought. Forget about speech patterns as well. We can research their circumstances, read their writing, and place it in the greater context of history. No need to have smallpox or be filthy (a different discussion entirely.)  We can make some good guesses about how they felt through a modern lens and share that with the public. It's the easiest way to make them feel connected to the past.

If Hamilton taught us anything it's possible to make history engaging with a bit knowledge and some theatrics. Puffing on a clay pipe, Thomas Nevel walked around Philadelphia with a stylish cane. If an approaching group smiled and made eye contact it was easy enough to ask them: "have you seen my cow?" We know Nevel owned a cow, and that the British were tearing down fences a soon as they arrived. He might talk about working on Carpenters' Hall and his house at the same time. He could mention his desire to court the Window Weed at the end of her mourning period. It's possible to break down the fourth wall and talk about why Carpenters' Hall was built and what it was used for over the years--mix first and third person.

Since Nevel was vaguely Presbyterian, and filled the Delaware river with obstacles on behalf of the rebels, he might share a pipe with the American prisoners working outside. His dress is a mix of working sort and middle class: stained leather breeches, faded frock coat, white shirt with ruffle and white neck cloth. He tried to impress the Widow Weed (since we know they married after the British left,) but she scorned his unkempt appearance and lack of income.

The valet at Fort Dobbs is a much simpler character who works twice as hard. Polish the officer's shoes, brush his clothes and hat, help him dress. Try and anticipate his needs, as well as keep him hydrated and fed. Pass him drinks on a tray, and gently scold him when he gets dirty. Provincial soldiers were the dregs of society and a servant was one step up from that. His clothing is raggedy, with a regimental coat, and he is barefoot at every opportunity. Class is a huge part of both of these characters.

When first-person comes into it's own is when several of the characters interact. None of this can be scripted and it takes practice. When one of the American prisoners in Philadelphia suddenly turned his coat and took the King's shilling there was a uproar. Nevel told him he had abandoned God, and was quickly silenced by British guards. The prisoner explained his reasons (financial) and showed his Queens Rangers broadside. The crowd got to witness the historic process of soldiers changing sides without thought for the consequences (hanging.)

Muskets aren't for everyone, especially old folks. The recreated past is better with all sorts in it.

Napoleon: Power and Splendor

These are trying times. The Deckard coat collar is too small and needs to come off. The prosthetic side burns failed miserably. There are two weeks left to finish some 1830's trousers. Solution: road trip. Kitty and his Drunkenness spent the weekend in Richmond, with Saturday devoted to the fabulous exhibit at the VMFA. I can't say enough good things about the museum or the exhibit. It is what history museums should be. No detail was too small: the walls are etched with French Imperial motifs, wind-tossed trees are projected around hunting displays, large gold objects get blue gel filters to make them even more magnificent. The exhibit focuses on the household rather than the man. The food and cocktails at the restaurant are also sublime.

Equally pleasing was being reunited with the Regency Society of Virginia. They took most of these photos, arranged the outing in costume, and are always welcoming. The meta aspects of touring a museum in clothing worn by America's earliest tourists gratified us. As did the obvious military influence on our fashion reflected in the paintings. Kitty's hussar waistcoat and my cossack trousers and chapeau are late 18th to early 19th century cargo pants and camo. The nostalgia of dressing up for an outing was a bonus.

The emotional aspects and the interactions with the public are unique to this outing. The time period allows for expanded roles: sketching parties, collecting insects and plants for study, recreating leisure time with leisure time.

Napoleon is on exhibit in Richmond till September 3rd, 2018. See it if you can. Make sure to call and ask if you want to attend dressed up.

The only way to exceed the ridiculousness of 1820's clothing is to venture later into adolescent America. A battle reenactment of a battle reenactment. See you in the 1830s. Hoping the skunks stay away.

High Life under the stairs

It's been awhile. Kitty and I have been engaged in long discussions about time drag and what we want to do in the future. The amount of misogyny and prejudice in certain time periods is depressing. Guns are nice, but I'm having a hard time getting excited about recreating conflict and nothing else.

Deckard's rain coat is a welcome distraction. Kitty's Bernina sewing machine is a joy to use, even for button holes. Collar quilting became swift and actually presentable. Can't wait for the first rain storm after it's finished.

July 2nd, 1777 at Fort Ticonderoga: Always count on these folks to create a rich 18th-century environment of all classes. Their latest event included a servantpalooza of sorts. The New Englanders that made up the Rear Guard included a dozen officers. There was not quite enough help for all of them, and some had never taken on the role of servant before, but it went surprisingly well.

Kitty was tasked with feeding the servants (the officers had their own cook.) Since we were not paid, she broke into the Officer of the Day's quarters and stole from the Army payroll. There was a pleasant tension between the camp followers and the servants. If done correctly, serving is hard work. Lots of stairs between kitchen and quarters. What happens when your captain is late to a meal and the lieutenant asks you to do some sewing for him? Cleaning and polishing shoes in the dark is tedious. Without an actual economy it's hard to do things like laundry and gambling. It's also hard for 21st-century Americans to stop saying "please" and "thank you" to those below them. Maybe they were never good at it.

The right tools help. At left are the contents of a simple American servant's wallet. Clockwise, from lower left: Napkins, a rag and tin cup, "The American Crisis," wads of tow, shoe cleaning and blacking brushes, a linen cap, brick dust, a sewing kit and white ball, an oil bottle, comb, and dish washing brush, a pipe, button stick, and black ball. Not pictured: a clothes brush, apron, and a nice bottle of port stolen by the colonel's servants. This just in: prosthetic muttonchops have been delivered via post. More on that later.