It's a post without a photo
Just to say that the batiste arrived! It took over a week, but it’s finally here. (I think the post here is getting worse) It’s very soft and flimsy but still – three metres has some weight on it. This might be a helluva dress.
I should really make a muslin of it shouldn’t I? That’s what a real seamstress would do.
My next task is cutting out oodles of linen, because my friend ordered three bags for gifts. How smashing is that?!
Batiste!
It sounds like a call to arms, doesn’t it? Batiste! For England and St George!
I’ve found some on ebay. It might not be authentic batiste proper, but it is a cotton and linen mix, which I imagine will feel nice against the skin. The description says it is almost transparent and suitable for ‘re-enactment’. I don’t think I am re-enacting anything, just enacting. Is that a real word?
It’s coming from Germany, plus I have to email and request the amount I want, wait for a price, then paypal it, so I think I’ll have to wait until next week before I can show you. In the meantime if any of you have decided to join me in this foolish quest you can find your batiste from Diana’s Fabrics
And now I can turn my attention to the fabric of the main dress. I want something heavy-ish I think, so that it hangs well. That’s as far as I’ve got to be honest, because I’ve started to worry about what on earth I’m going to do with my bosoms. Will a bra show? Will I need to make stays?
Dressing Decisions
Coo! I had no idea i would get such positive reactions to my plan to play dress up – thank you! I feel so much better. I don’t feel any more sane, but I am more than happy to be slightly mad.
I spent some time last night going over the pattern envelope and reading the construction instructions. This view, with the overlay, is rather sweet, but has one huge flaw: button fastenings. Buttons I can do, but the corresponding holes are a great hole in my sewing repertoire. I simply cannot get them right, and I am not enough of a seamstress to be fiddling with the pattern. Naturally I blame my machine. So that is one thing against it. Another is the overlay itself, which, while lovely, no doubt needs to be made in some kind of floaty light fabric which will cause me untold nightmares. Finally, it has short sleeves: it’s winter, and I don’t want to ruin the look by having to resort to my sweatshirt.
So to view B. Numerous things in its favour: long sleeves, a drawstring fastening, can be made out of something sturdy and robust. It’s also got a sash – how can I not? But on reading through the requirements I found that in addition to the metres and metres of fabric it also needs almost 3 metres of batiste for the lining of the skirt. What on earth is batiste?
Well, apparently it’s a dry shampoo, which is what most of my search results came back with. But it is also ‘the softest of the lightweight opaque fabrics’, according to Wikipedia’s Batiste entry. Presumably this is the kind of fabric that was once freely available for undergarments, slips and linings, but I’ve never seen it anywhere. So I continued my internet search to find a stockist.
I found hankerchiefs, a christian doll in a nightdress, a roller blind with jewels and then finally batiste by the metre at Cottonpatch. It doesn’t say what colour it is though, and there isn’t a picture, so I think my next move will be a trip into MacCulloch and Wallis to see what they have to say.
And this is before we even get to the main part of the dress. I hope you realise this could take some time.
At home, no one can hear you wearing a period costume...
Today I took a step towards achieving a long held dream. Previously I thought it too frivolous, too odd, too peculiar to indulge in. But today, waiting for my young man to arrive in town, I went to browse through the patterns and found that Simplicity were all on sale at £3.65 each.
Reader, I bought 4055.
Let me explain. I am at home a lot. I write, I craft and I accept a lot of parcels for my neighbours because they have real jobs. Finding comfortable clothes to sit and work in at home while feeling respectable enough to answer the door to Royal Mail, Fedex and UPS men is difficult. What could be better than a regency gown? No uncomfortable waistband when the biscuit barrell forces its way down my throat, no need to worry about unwaxed legs, about straps falling down or visible underwear. All is concealed, all is left free.
But it does seem a little strange doesn’t it? For a 21st century woman to need a two hundred year old dress design to work in at home? I do love Jane Austen (_a lot_) but wanting to be Anne Elliot is not the reason I want the dress. I really do think it will be comfortable to work in.
And I really want to open the door to the delivery guy in a frock. Possibly with gloves. Or is that taking it too far?
