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.

Interlinked

A quick Preenacting update. Detective Deckard's coat is a strange one. Aside from the color choice, external pockets and cuffs, the outer sleeve is actually part of the back shoulder yoke. The shoulder pads improve the shape, but there is no seam there.

The yoke is also padded, and there is only one button. The shirts from this film are pretty garish, and complicated. Fortunately, the cosplay crowd gets support from some excellent vendors. Need a Skyfall suit? These folks have that and more. It's not cheap, but all clothes are made to measure. Very nice stuff.

Magnoli carries two Blade Runner 2019 shirts, both bonkers. Also two tie designs. The black shirt could use some toning down, and what better way than with Japanese dye pens. A touch of gray over the white makes a big difference at a distance. Mind you, we can't color over the pink top stitching. It's like a coloring book, a terrible one.

After a bunch of screen shots from the movie, it should be possible to make two complete outfits using the coat and trench coat. The shoes are still available. Magnoli makes sweet tweed trousers. Deckard's wrist watch is a 1970s Intel Microma that cost $200 new. The original black watches now sell for between $1,000 and $2,000 (!!!??) on Ebay. Much easier to get a steel three-button model and paint it.

For the history-minded among you beginning to despair, fear not. Kitty got us something really cool for Birthday. If you need a Federal hat (or other 17th, 18th, or 19th century one) Matt Brenckle is your man. Most of the Drunk hats were made by him.

This tasteful, understated chapeau bras is for civilians. The pantaloons cry out to be finished. Braces, a new tail coat and waist coat will also be required.

Boots and Bearskins

Well that didn't go well. Making two coats at once was a huge mistake. Too many distractions. The regimental coat looks good, but doesn't fit worth a damn. Snug WITH constraint. Perhaps Kitty can make it into a riding habit. The lesson here is patterns need to be revisited and fitting patterns made for everything. Don't rush.

Time to shift gears a bit. This beautiful thing was found during Big Dig construction in Boston's North End. Boots have been around forever. At the start of the 19th century they became fashionable everyday wear for men. High-front "Hessians" and "Suwarrows" copied Central and Eastern European military styles. They were replaced soon after by "Wellingtons" (not the rubber kind.)

No we aren't making boots. We are taking advantage of an excellent boot maker who is flexible. The design is not unlike mid-19th century boots, with changes to the toe and heel. The canvas tabs need to be removed and replaced after the tops are cut.

Another good winter/Apocalypse project is at right. The 1768 British Army clothing warrant gives grenadiers, fifers, drummers, pioneers, and fusiliers the authorization to wear bear skin caps. The fusiliers cap is "not so high," as the others, which are to be twelve inches tall. This fearsome headgear cost over ten times as much as the standard hat. No wonder many regiments (including the 7th Foot,) gave them up as the American War progressed.

The Royal Fusiliers DID arrive in American with them, though none survive. Construction of surviving caps was a bit of a mystery until the 1990s, when the Scottish United Services Museum started conserving the Seafield Collection. These are post-Revolution, but still follow the 1768 warrant. Pioneer, musician and grenadier caps are remarkably similiar, but for some details. Good friend Jason is using this as the basis for a fusilier version and so shall we. Trade in bear parts is legally complex, so stay tuned.

GCM After Action Report

Well, it's comfortable. Genesee Country Village's early 19th century weekend made an excellent place to test the Summer tail coat. None of the interior seams are finished, the sleeves are not lined and the cuffs just tacked on.  It was way too hot to button anything.

After some initial confusion, our group of seven and a half settled in two different buildings. Rather than interpret a trade we formed a party of well-off folks at leisure, sketching our surroundings with period implements. Using a camera lucida is remarkably difficult, but that may be because it required a bench.

The old trousers and waistcoat made the outfit bearable, but changes are required. These were fine to start, but the yellow pants are not tall enough, and the linen waistcoat is too long. I find these chaps inspiring. Some checked trousers with stirrups perhaps?

The coat revealed some interesting issues. One arm appears to be 3/8" longer than the other. It may be an anatomical problem. Since the sleeves need to be a tad longer it was easy to roll one cuff down slightly more, and make up the difference on the back of the other.

The maddening droop of the overlapping front is fixable. Kitty pressed her face to one of the displays at Genesee (without even being asked) and found two small internal buttons on a period coat. These engage the top and bottom button holes of the right front to hold it up.  Time to whip over the cut lining edges, line the sleeves, and return to the blue neck stock. Last, trousers and a short waist coat.

Buckram

William Sidney Mount created this fantastic Rustic Dance After a Sleigh Ride. It's a chance to study everyday life in New York around 1830. Just look at it. So much going on here. Let's just focus on men's neckware for now. Dancing machine, in his yellow waistcoat, opted for droopy comfort: unbuttoning his shirt collar and tying on a kerchief.

More formal chap, in black, either added whalebone support for his red neck cloth or he is wearing a stock. The secret to stocks, all the high collars on the coats, and the crisp edges on the men's garments is buckram. Most commonly linen, buckram is an interface material that is stiff, flexible, waterproof and can be ironed. Buckram's secret is one of humankind's oldest trade items: plant gum.

Desert plants evolved an interesting way of defending against scrapes and cuts. Cellulose breakdown creates a sticky fluid that hardens in air. Goat's thorn, which grows abundantly in Iran, produces Gum tragacanth. Tragacanth is still used in an insane number of products, from pastels, to cake decoration, as a burn salve, and to stick cigars closed. It's harder to obtain, but unlike other gums it doesn't stick to itself. "Gum dragon" as it was called, was common in 18th and 19th century tailoring and leather work.

    Gum arabic comes from several species of Acacia trees found in Sudan. It's used in shoe polish, envelope adhesive, drug capsules, in ceramic glazes and painting. Either gum can be found in liquid and powdered form. Arabic dissolves in water, but it takes twenty four hours. Mix two parts water to one part powder. Refrigeration is required for long term storage.

Brush it on thinly, both sides of the cloth and allow to dry. The result is vaguely like fiberglass, and nothing like linen with the sizing still in it. Powder is cheaper, but tedious to mix, best for small batches. Leather and cake suppliers are the best source for liquid gum dragon. One coat is pretty stiff, but two can't hurt. MOST important: the cloth shrinks when it dries. Make a big enough sheet to cut out all the parts you need.

Another Year

Happy New Year! The holiday was merry and Federal swag-filled, while construction of the Velocipede proceeds apace. Brother Joseph pointed out something excellent on eBay:

These chaps are Italian, of indeterminate age, but could pass for 18th century. Plus they are sharp has hell. All of eight bucks, SCORE! They needed a polish and some oil, the only complaint: the drunk tailor is left-handed. Perhaps some button hole chisels will turn up soon. Thanks, Joseph.

Our sleazy waistcoat is progressing slowly but surely. Cold and darkness makes 23 button holes feel like 700. May have to add the expanding waist seam inserts as well. The black button covers are total conjecture, but fun: gives it a Nazi/White Stripes vibe. While the project pile is deep, it can be hard not to get distracted by something new and quick.

Hammer provided such a distraction. This thing turned out okay, but it's a bit too tight and stiff. Easy enough to fix either of those issues, but further research indicates that surviving early 19th century white silk stocks are for dress up.

There is a horrible, checked, Federal summer suit in our future. One where none of pattern lines up on any of the seams, and all the button covers are exactly the same. The kind that when it shows up in a museum collection you have to wonder.

The only way to improve that ensemble is with  clashing, checked neckware of some kind. Behold:

Courtesy of my Muse at the Rhode Island Historical Society. She also provided cloth that matches. What's not to love about a gigantic seam down the front and badly matched pattern? The tabs appear to be edged in wool tape. The only thing missing from this Federal Period clip-on bow tie is just that. A bow tie.

A wee, pieced-together bow tie can only enhance the awfulness. While we're at it let's make some buckram from scratch.

Odds and Ends

Happy Holidays! So much work to do. ANOTHER IMAX film opportunity next week. I love emails out of the blue. Where to start... How about at the end? Remember this thing?

It's the early 19th-century equivalent of a clip-on tie. I added a strap and stock buckle from my collection, and two folded strips sewn at one end. Some of the original stocks I've looked at have bows or knots stitched to the front (even backwards tails proving they weren't tied so much as built from pieces.) I'm going to leave this one loose so I can change it as the mood strikes me. It feels like a neck corset, and I can actually see stars if I hold my head the right way.

Here is something cool for all you 18th century Northerners and Francophiles as the temperature drops:

Comfy and practical, straight from Mr. Diderot. He says these Chausson were knitted from wool or linen thread by Canadians, or made from cloth. The pattern looks like this:

I was turned on to these by a friend who has a fantastic site on 18th-century Native culture here. Check it out if you have any interest in the frontier and honoring the history of the people who were here before us. Next time, construction details of a simple 18th century great coat, perhaps the first time I have worked on winter clothes during winter. Meanwhile, tying a barrel knot is much easier if you aren't wearing it:

Eagles!

I received an offer I could not refuse. These crack shots are the Oxford Light Infantry. They can be seen at Old Sturbridge Village, and represent all that is sexy and good in New England militia from the first quarter of the 19th century.

All their brass plates and buckles are silver plated. Their coats and trousers are the latest European military fashion, and look at that shako. What could be more Federal than putting eagles on everything?  Needless to say, I need to see what this is all about.

My obsession with fatigue caps gives me an easy place to start. A painted leather visor and silver tape really set this thing off.  Did I forget to mention my deep love of wheel hats?

The OLI fatigue hat is more of a muffin than a wheel, with the top gathered, but it is super easy to make.

The band is slightly bigger than the wearer's head and has a linen stiffener in it. Here it is inside out. The bottom edge is turned under and stitched to the linen.

I ordered some 4 oz. leather to make the brim, and Derek Heidemann was kind enough to supply me with patterns, silver tape, and buttons for the coat. Remind me to pay that guy.

Here is the top of the cap with the cotton lining part way in. I am going to get Taylor Shelby to help me gather this to the top of the band. It can't be TOO different than covered buttons, can it?

I haven't decided if the tape goes next or the bill. The last step is to add a cotton band liner for my giant sweaty head.

For those paying attention, I haven't forgotten about the stock. Here is the silk slowly covering the outside. The buckle will come from an 18th century repro I no longer use. No stains yet, but those wrinkles are handsome.