Titanic Gown

So remember these?

As previously mentioned, I bought a couple ok lots of saris and dupattas in my quest to find a few that were crying out to be made into 1912 Titanic gowns.

This dupatta was one of my first purchases, and despite its tendency to get snagged on its own fabulous metal tambour embroidery I really wanted to use it.  I knew it was destined to be an overlay on the final dress, so I started draping it and a few salvaged scraps of sari borders on my mannequin to get some ideas...

Meanwhile I also thought a lot about the basic shape of the gown that would go under the dupatta fabric.  For some reason I find I really like the look of hobble skirts, but that fashion was right out as this was to be worn to a PEERS dance event.  I also loved the trained style of many teens dresses, but trains have a tendency to get stepped on when worn on a dance floor.  Then I saw this Paul Poiret evening dress at the KCI and had a sudden brainstorm.  At the bottom front the skirt silhouette appears to narrow, similar to a hobble skirt.  However, there is clearly a bunch of extra fabric at the back of the skirt that flows into a train.  Now it's entirely possible that the skirt is perfectly normal and it just looks like it narrows at the base due to the way it was arranged on the mannequin, but it gave me an idea.  

I draped a mockup of the skirt that was very fitted at the top, flowed into a wide curve over the hips, then swooped back at the bottom.  From the front, it appears to be similar to a hobble skirt.  The illusion holds so long as the skirt is viewed straight on.

But in the back, there's a bunch of extra fabric that's tamed by two large fitted inverted pleats that are stitched down to mid-butt level.  From there, the fabric is released and falls to the floor and into a very short train. The stitched down pleats ensure that the skirt holds the lovely fitted shape at the waist and over the hips, while below that the extra fabric ensures that one's legs have enough freedom to comfortably waltz.

It's weird and I don't have the slightest bit of proof that it's historical.  It's also pretty and makes me happy so I don't care.  And it's danceable! 

The pattern that resulted from this strange mishmash of styles looks somewhat odd.  It lacks the train and the angled waistline that I added to the real skirt, but it clearly shows the unusual shape of the skirt panels. 

I must have been feeling brave when I picked out fabric to compliment the dupatta, because I chose to use a pale gold silk charmeuse!  I was absolutely seduced by its rich, soft, slippery silkiness.  Problem is, there's a big learning curve when sewing such a finicky fabric.  I scoured my books and the internet for tips and practiced stitching on lots of scraps before I was brave enough to attempt the skirt.  

I ended up hand basting my seams first, used a fresh super sharp thin needle and set my stitch length to slightly shorter than normal and sewed slowly and carefully.  It was frustrating and I still got some slight puckering on some seams, but all in all I'd call the experience a win :)

Before hemming to length

I'll have to apologize, because I don't seem to have a single picture of the draping, patterning, fitting or stitching of the bodice.  I also don't remember much about the process, because this dress was made back March/April!  You'll have to settle for this- I draped a short waisted bodice with a generously curved bustline.  I used some coutil scraps as an interlining to give it some support, and also boned the heck out of it.  I joined it to the skirt messily (oh noes, exposed seams!) because I planned to cover the join with a waistband.  Inside I added a waist stay to take the strain off the rest of the gown; this helped ensure that the bodice wouldn't be pulled down by the weight of the skirt (snagged that idea from this Diary of a Mantua Maker post).  In any case, here's what I ended up with-

Oh hai va voomy curves!  It's certainly no Camille Clifford, but it was a bit curvier than I'd expected, especially as many teens dresses are somewhat less shapely.  At this point the gown shape was looking as though it belonged to a slightly earlier era, but I knew that the overlay would tone it down enough.  

There was a horrible horizontal wrinkle just under the waistline that was likely caused by the fact that the boning in the bodice stopped at the waist.  I should have let the boning continue a few inches into the skirt, but since that was all going to be covered up anyways I wasn't too worried!

The border you see along the top of the bodice was a scrap of beautiful tambour embroidery work rescued from a sari that was too damaged for anything else.  While my piece was relatively intact, the weight of the heavy metal embroidery was already threatening to tear the delicate sari fabric into shreds.  I had to stitch around every motif to attach it to the dress in a way that would support the whole thing.  

Oooooh, sparkly!

With the base gown done I started to play around with draping the dupatta over it to see how to best display the beautiful embroidery.

Once I settled on a version I liked I tacked the fabric down around the waist, cut the upper section free and mucked around with it some more until I had passable gauzy oversleeves.  I didn't end up with quite enough fabric to cover the back, but I didn't mind too much.  I added a sash of bronze silk taffeta and called it good!

All my photos from PEERS Titanic Ball are fuzzy, but I ended up wearing this again to Gaskells with several other lovely ladies sporting 1912 styles.  Of course we all had to pose for more pictures! 

Photo courtesy of the lovely American Duchess

Silver and gold sparkly ladies! ( and a bit o'goofiness)
Photo courtesy of the lovely American Duchess

It was fabulous to see so many great gowns and chat about the trials and travails of tacking a new time period.  The dress was perfect on the dance floor and the tiny train only got slightly trod on.  During the second break I escaped the dance floor and took off the ill-fitting corset and discovered that the dress fit fine without it, thought it was a bit tight in the waist. All in all I'd call the project a success, and I'm looking forward to exploring the era a bit more (especially as I scored a darling teens day dress off of ebay that I'd love to recreate!).

Gettin' Rid of the Funk

Yesterday I showed you some vintage saris and dupattas I ordered off eBay.  They're beautiful, but they stink!  But how to wash a super delicate silk that has been embroidered with actual metal, not to mention beads, sequins, and other embelishments?

Pretty, but impossible to wash.  Or is it?

Vodka.

Yes, seriously.

I'd heard of theater costumers filling up spray bottles with vodka and lightly spritzing dry clean only items between shows to get the funk out.  Nothing I found online indicated that it would hurt the silk at all.  Vodka can be used as a disinfectant, so it could probably kill any germs that might be adding to the general odor in my fabric.  I've also seen jewelry cleaned with vodka, so it likely wouldn't hurt the metal embroidery and might in fact shine it up a bit.  I figured I'd give it a shot; at worst I'd be out some cheap booze and the $30 I spent on one dupatta.


Disclaimer: While the following procedure worked fine on all the fabrics and embellishments I tested, it could potentially harm your fabric.  Use at your own risk, and definitely test a swatch first!

First off find some super cheap vodka, the kind you wouldn't drink if someone paid you.  For only $10, I got a 1.75 liter bottle.   Soak a swatch in the booze for a while to see if the fabric color changes or any damage to embellishments occurs.  Obviously, if it ruins your swatch, don't continue!

The photos I have of the process swap back and forth between various dupattas, so don't be concerned about the color changing between pictures as it's just a different fabric.

You may want to do this outside, as the fumes from the booze get quite strong.  Loosely place your fabric in a large bowl and pour enough vodka over it to soak it thoroughly.  Swish it around a bit, then let it soak.  I don't know if soaking is necessary, but if it doesn't hurt and might help, go for it.  Check periodically for damage or discoloration.  (Note: my vodka turned a little reddish, indicating that some color was coming off.  The fabric looked fine though, and I chose to continue.  In the end, it didn't seem to noticeably change the color of the fabric at all)

When you think it's as clean as it's going to get, take it out and gently squeeze as much excess vodka out as you can.  Spread the fabric out on a large towel.  Starting at one end, roll the towel up with the fabric inside.   Squeeze the bundle so that the towel soaks up the extra booze.  Or, if you're lazy like me, just sit on it and let your weight do the work.

Hang your fabric up to dry, preferably some place inside.  Sunlight is harsh and damaging to many fabrics, and especially to metal embroidery.  Smooth out any wrinkles with your hands since you probably don't want to try ironing this stuff later.

Impatiently speeding up the drying process with a fan is ok too.  I found that with a fan these dried in about 20 minutes flat.

Before and after taking a boozy vodka bath

The vodka really shined up the metal bits!  There were a few tarnished areas that didn't lighten up much, but on the whole the dupatta got much sparklier after its vodka bath.  The silk feels nice and clean and retains its color and texture.  I was concerned that the fabric would retain a boozy smell afterward, but once it was completely dry it just smelled nice and fresh.  The funk is gone, and I didn't ruin anything except a bottle of nasty cheap liquor.

Now I can make a beautiful gown out of this and not worry about assaulting anyone's nostrils!

So Much Pretty

Whoops, got sucked down a rabbit hole for a few months.  Between Dickens, a work promotion and life in general I've been busy.  Last week was the first time in two months that I stepped into my sewing room to do anything other than find a missing costume piece!

Even so, I've got plenty of stuff to show you over the next few weeks.  Today isn't for showing things I've sewn though.  Instead, I'll be showing you the results of my latest addiction.  In the wee hours of the morning, when I'm exhausted from work and want nothing more than to just sit and look at pretty things, I've been lurking on eBay buying these-

Above: far more saris and dupattas than I really need.

That's not all of them; there are two more on the way, plus some sari borders that I bought to use as trim.  My excuse was that I'll use these to make Titanic dresses, but really I'll probably only do two or three.  I started buying them after I saw the beautiful dupatta that Diary of a Mantua Maker is using for one of her dresses; later I saw that several people on The Unsinkables Facebook group were buying saris to make gowns as well.  (If you're planning to make a Titanic-style gown, the members of The Unsinkables have been posting all sorts of wonderful things that will help you)  Once I got started buying them it was hard to stop!

I've got some ideas for a few of the extras, but maybe readers could suggest projects for them as well?  Note that the saris tend to be about 5 yards in length and 1 one yard in width, with about a yard of one end heavily decorated.  The dupattas (a type of veil) are roughly 90 inches by 45 inches, with some being smaller or larger.  Unlike a sari, if the end of a dupatta has a fancy border, that border is mirrored on the other side. 

 Bright yellow with over the top green, pink, and cream embroidery with bead work!

This yellow sari is begging to be made into an open-fronted Regency over robe.  I probably won't get around to it until summer, but I WILL make it.

 Teal net with exquisite goldwork embroidery.

This teal net sari with goldwork will definitely be made into a 1912 gown.   I'll be rummaging around Stone Mountain and Daughter this weekend to find suitable fabrics to go with it. 

Self destructive dupatta!

This red dupatta is one of the first I bought.  I've been planning to use it for a 1912 dress, especially as I've got the perfect trim for the top of the gown (I'll have to show you later, as I don't have a photo of it just now).  However, the sequins and goldwork on it tend to snag the delicate fabric, and while I love bright red it just isn't floating my boat the way it did at first. 

Love.  Love.  Love.  Don't know why, cause I'm not generally an orange fan.

When this light orange beauty showed up in the mail, it immediately stole my heart.  The tambour embroidery is just so pretty, and the pearly beads are the perfect understated accent.  It's a lovely drapey chiffon-like silk and the color is gorgeous.  The only thing I'm not a fan of is the fringe, but I can deal.  This is seriously vying with the red one  to be made into a 1912 gown.  I'd do a cream silk charmeuse under gown, with rusty accent details.  I don't have the perfect trim for the top of this one though, so I'll have to be on the lookout for some.

I don't have a plan for this one yet, but the fabric is gorgeous!  It's a thin, ever-so-slightly crisp silk with a pattern of squares all over.  The pallu (that's the highly decorated end of the sari that is often worn slung over the shoulder and hanging down in back) is beaded in a simple no-frills style.  With five yards to play with (one yard of which is beaded) there's lots that I could do.  But what to pick?

 Super stiff, but still pretty

I'll admit I was slightly disappointed with this one.  The listing said it was made of "tissue silk" and the photo showed an open weave fabric, which led me to assume it was lightweight and drapey (I know, never assume) I didn't see the part that said it was a little stiff.  It's almost like a super heavily starched net, and not at all appropriate for a flowy 1912 gown.  I'm not a huge fan of purple either, so I'm not sure what this is destined to become.  Any ideas?

I am apparently easily entranced by sparkly things.

Wowza!  No idea what to do with this bright orange dupatta with insane amounts of gold sequins and embroidery.  I bought it because SHINY.  That's a perfectly acceptable reason, right?

Why fringe?  Why?

More exquisite embroidery on this gauzy light green veil, and more icky fringe.  This looks like a sibling to the light orange one further up.  Not sure what to do with it.

I adore this rust colored dupatta!  It's soft and gauzy, and it's covered in tons of metal embroidery!  Those flowers are almost entirely made of copper, silver and gold; the veil also has bead work, regular embroidery, and sequins.  I was trying to come up with a 1912 dress design to use this in, but nothing is coming to mind.  I'll settle for drooling over it for now.

 Pretty floral embroidery on a green fading to light green dupatta.  I had some ideas for a 1912 gown for this, but I've already got my top three choices for my Titanic gowns and this one didn't make the cut.  What should it be?

Recycle, reuse and all that jazz.

Last but not least, trim!  These are from saris that were too damaged to sell; the usable border is cut off and sold as trim.  The blue one will likely end up as some sort of headband thingy for the teal 1912 gown, but I'm not sure what I'll use the others for.  The best sari trim I got isn't pictured, but it is fabulous and I can't wait to put it on a dress. 

Since these are all used, they have a particular "old thrift store" smell.  They really need cleaning, but how does one clean gauzy silk that's been embellished with strands of metal, beads and sequins?  Tomorrow I'll show you how I got the funk out of these delicate fabrics!