Tag Archives: 16th century

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What do I put my stuff in?

I’ve been obsessed with totes and bags for ages. I have an entire pinterest board ( my pinterest ) ( my pinterest page dedicated to totes) dedicated to nothing but tote-bags! In the SCA, at least in Gleann Abhann, I don’t see much of a practical bag in use, other than the “man-bag” that many a dude will carry court time refreshments in.

Bags are so useful! The bags I’m talking about are the kind with long thick straps that you can throw over your shoulder and carry a ton of stuff = modern day bo-ho bag. But are they period?

It’s a side adventure, but I want to start looking at useful period bags made of cloth. If you have any pics, post them in the comments. Between all of our combined skills and knowledge, we can bring the bag back to the Middle Ages!!

wink

I’ll start. Found this guy in the “Triumph of Death” by the 16th century Flemish painter Pieter Bruegel the Elder. It makes sense. If you are running for your life from a bunch of bloodthirsty skeletons, you really need something practical to stick your stuff in.

To me, I see a nice cloth satchel, almost a “messenger bag,” ​with both and adjustable strap and a buckle flap. How awesome is this?!?!

Off to make some art.

Happy sewing!

​

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Pleated Embroidered (Smocked) Apron: Mock-Up #1

First, I finally got the fabric I’m going to use for the side-laced cotte dyed!!

Freshly Dyed Fabric

I love the color! I was thinking it would be a bit more blue-ish, but I am pleasantly surprised by the results. I put it next to my white muslin for comparison.

I ended up using Dharma’s fiber reactive procion colors:

One part #30A Emerald Green

One part #32A Electric Blue

And 3/4 part #46 Brilliant Blue

On to the Pleated Apron

My first mock-up of the embroidered pleated apron is done!  It’s a style of aprons that popped up around the mid 14th century and lasted until the late 16th century without changing much in style. I found a couple of new pictures demonstrating the over 200 year range of this accoutrement.

Luttrell Psalter
1320 – 1340 England

Detail from The Seamstress
Edward Schoen 1535

What I like, other than the bling quality, is that it makes the simple apron not so simple and allows it to be worn with fancier garb.

Last time I left off, I was having problems simply getting the dots straight. Here’s what I worked out.

That green thing in the upper right is a home-made Bat-a-rang I made for my son’s birthday party 3 years ago. I still find those things everywhere!

I made a perfect rectangle of a piece of cotton muslin by pulling threads. Here’s a quick and dirty tutorial on it: http://www.sewing.org/files/guidelines/4_204_straightening_fabric_grain.pdf

I squared the edges on my large fabric cutting board and used the marks to make a line nearly across the entire apron every half inch.  Half an inch was too big on one of my previous attempts, but with the method I’m trying, it’s perfect.

Keeping the fabric still lined up on the mat, I marked every 1/2″ in the perpendicular direction. The fabric did slip quite a bit, so generally between each row I would re-straighten it on the mat. It doesn’t matter how many rows you make, but it needs to be an even number (we’ll get to that later).

At this point, I have eight long lines going across, and about 70 dashes going up and down.

Somewhere I read a tip that said do all of the gathering stitches at once. So I threaded 8 needles – I used sharp, medium length embroidery needles. I used normal DMC embroidery floss in a light, but not white color. Avoid the urge to use a completely contrasting color, like red. I did that with the cartridge pleats on my partlet, and when I pulled them out, it left red residue in the holes.

The method I used was I ran along the length-way lines. A smidgen before every dash, I pushed the needle through the fabric. Using the same motions used in a running stitch, right after each dash I came back up.

Tie the back ends of the thread together in batches of 2 and 3. It makes it easier to adjust when gathering the fabric.

When you get to the end of your threads, but still have more line to finish . . .

Start pulling the gathers. That’s why you tied the threads off at the other end and why it’s easier to work all 8 rows at once.

When I finished gathering the gathers, I thought that it looked way too small. I knew that I wanted the apron wider than this.

So I set about spreading the folds and trying my hardest to keep the columns straight. Then I laughed and realized that the smocking will loosen the gathers. I re-pulled the threads together, although not as tight as I did at first.

Take a chop-stick, or something like it, and pock into each pocket created by the gathered threads. It is tedious, but when you are done . . .

all of the rows line up nicely, and . . .

the front looks just lovely.

Now for the smocking. It helps if you understand the pattern first before the stitches.

The Pattern

  • You are working with 2 rows at a time. That’s why you made an even number of rows.
  • I labeled the columns to make it easier to understand.
  • Remember: rows go side to side. Columns go up and down, like columns on a building. It’ll get confusing if I don’t make this distinction.
  • Start at the lower LEFT of the whole damn thing. Believe me, it makes a difference. (Yeah, I tried starting on the right – a big mess)
  • At the bottom left corner, Column A and Column B get stitched together. (Stitch explanations come in a minute).
  • Then go up one row, and Column B and Column C get stitched together.
  • Go back down one row and Column C and Column D get stitches together.
  • Go up one row and Column D and Column E get stitched together.
  • Go back down one row and Column E and Column F get stitched together
  • And so on, and so on, until you finish those 2 rows.
  • Here’s a little visual I threw together:

The Stitches

  • Bring your thread up from the bottom on the leftish to middle part of the top of A. In this case, A is not at the end.
  • Bring your needle around the other side of B and push it through both A and B.
  • Do that one more time. Bring the needle around to the other side of B and go through B and A.
  • Now bring the needle around again, but this time slip the needle into B only. You are going to run the needle up B to the row on top of it. BUT you are doing this under the cloth.
  • Now you are going to do to B and C what you just did to A and B.
  • And then come back down C to the first row.
  • Now repeat with C and D. And then with D and E. And so on.

When you get to the end of the row:

  • Connect the last two together and then tie your thread off underneath.
  • Ignore the thread in the middle, it’s just a loose thread that got into the frame.

Starting a New Row

  • Whatever you do, do NOT, I mean do NOT, just move on up to Row 3 and think you’re going to just work your way back to the left.
  • It does NOT work that way. Yeah, I learned that the hard way too.
  • Go back to the beginning of Row 3 all the way on the left.
  • The pattern for Rows 3 & 4 is the same as for Rows 1 & 2
  • Repeat again for Rows 5 & 6, and then 7 & 8.
  • Keep doing it until you finish

Progression

All Done, At Least with the Smocking

  • After the first two or three, I grew tired of having to tie off the loose threads in the back. The pleats are still fairly tight, and that made it a little more difficult.
  • Once I was done with the smocking, I took out the gathering stitches.
  • Loosened the pleats.
  • Then I tied down all of the loose threads.

  • Front view

  • Back side

All that was left was to hem it and add the apron ties and waistband.

Do I like it?  Yes, I think it is beautiful.

Can I improve on my techniques? Absolutely! Even looking back through the pictures I saw a couple of things I can do better on next time. All-in-all, smocking can be fun!

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Making the 16th Century Flemish Working Class Woman’s Gown Part 2: The Construction

It’s been a month since I’ve posted anything about  my 16th century Flemish costume. Where did I leave off? Ah, the dress. On to the construction.

This is a continuation of a series of posts I’m writing on my construction of a 16th century outfit, which would have been worn by a working class woman of Flanders. I wrote about my analysis of the gown in the last post in this series: https://maniacalmedievalist.wordpress.com/2012/10/17/making-the-16th-century-flemish-working-class-womans-gown-part-1-the-documentation/

Most of my construction was based off of Kass McGann’s ideas posted in Reconstructing History: http://www.reconstructinghistory.com/blog/the-netherlandish-working-womans-outfit-part-1.html

When it comes to 16th century Dutch dress, there are two main theorists. Kass is one. The other is Drea Leed: http://www.elizabethancostume.net/lowerclass/makeflem.html . It’s not that I disagree with Drea. I felt that Kass’s ideas would result more in the look I wanted to achieve than Drea’s.  The look I want comes mainly from the paintings by Joachim Beuckelaer and Pieter Aertsen, two 16th centruy painters who mainly worked out of Antwerp.

If you go to Kass’s part two in her Netherlandish Working Woman’s Outfit ( http://www.reconstructinghistory.com/blog/the-netherlandish-working-womans-outfit-part-2.html ), she gives fairly straight forward instructions on creating the bodice part of the gown.

I started out with two squares of my linen. I sewed them together to give the bodice extra strength when lacing.

Using my modern awl, I made the holes for the eyelets. I really do need to get a more period awl.

I laced the square of fabric around the mid-section of my dress dummy.

To prepare for making an armhole, I made a slit from the top of square, where it hit my shoulders, down to about armpit level.

I squared off the hole in order to get to the shoulder seams.

The square I used was way too long. I ended up wasting a good bit of fabric at the top. If I make something like this again, I’ll figure out how to use measurements to get a more accurate piece of fabric.

I sewed up the shoulder seam a bit at a time until it fit fairly snug.

detail from Christ in the House of Martha and Mary
Joachim Beuckelaer

The pieces of the skirt are pretty geometric.

At this point, I had not had as much experience making pleats, so I first tried box pleats.

Flight into Egypt, detail
Joachim Beuckelaer

The rear ends of the women in these paintings are awfully large, but I couldn’t justify using a bum-roll. Why would a working class woman wear a bum-roll? My guess is that the look was achieved with pleatings. Box pleats, however, did not work.

So I tried cartridge pleats. I’m not unhappy with the pleats, but I still need to go back an re-attach them. My method of attaching them to the bodice part flattened them out a good bit more than I wanted.

Overall, I’m happy with it. I achieved the look I wanted, minus a few minor errors. I did, however, learn quite a bit.

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Beginning to Smock

I take back all the bad things I said about cartridge pleating and blackwork counted stitch embroidery. Smocking! That’s the real pain in the tush!

It’s for the decorative apron I’m making for my Christmas Revel A&S entry. It’s a project for which I have the documentation. It’s not so big that it’ll take months and months to complete, but it has a degree of complexity.

Yesterday, I looked over the documentation. The pleating part looks like cartridge pleats but on a larger scale. I figured that since I know how to do cartridge pleats, this should be no problem. Wrong! My problem is that it is so much larger and getting the pleating marks even is not easy.

At first I berated myself and told myself that I must be daft if I can not figure out how to do this. That was after I spent 5 hours doing this:

Ignore the squiggly on the side; it’s part of an abandoned project. As you can see, the dots are no where near even. At first I was trying to use the edge to make the dots line up. I gave up on that and drew a base-line to use. Still, even with my fancy ruler they would not line up. Plus I was making the dots 1/2″ apart, and after thinking about it (and 5 hours of cursing) I wanted them closer together.

It really didn’t help that I was doing this on my lap, using a large cookbook as a table. I was kind of in the middle of a Psych marathon with my 14 year old and didn’t want to get up.

So, I gave up on this end. I turned the linen piece around and made a straight edge by pulling threads out and cutting along the missing thread line:

The dots may be hard to see from the faintness, but they are much straighter. I used my favorite ruler that let me see through to match up the now straight fabric edge to the measuring lines. It’s not perfect, but it’s not bad. It still took over 4 hours to do (and I’m not quite done yet).

All of this work left me a little anxious to get into the actual smocking, but I realized that I was still unclear about some of the details.

Sometimes before you can learn something new, you need to figure out what not only what things are called, but what questions you need to ask. So I needed to hit the books again and do a bit more research.

My first question was how do you get the pleats (and/or) dots even without going insane.  Turns out that it’s not that easy. My having problems with it wasn’t unusual. In fact they make specific tools just  for getting the dots even when smocking, such as iron-on smocking dots and dot templates. They also make machines that do nothing but make the pleats for smocking. Wow! So I’m not such a nutter-head for having a difficult time doing this.

I got some tips and thought of a couple of creative ways on my own to make the dots even and less time consuming. More on that later.

Then I started asking other questions:

When making the pleats, does it matter if I work from left to right and from top to bottom?

With the dots, do I go up one hole and down the next? Or do I go down slightly to one side of the hole and up slightly to the other side (or vice/versa)?

What about needle angle? Should it always be perpendicular to the fabric? Or can I use a running stitch?

And the type of needle. After it’s pleated what kind of needle do I use to smock? Long or short? Sharp or ball-point?

I found out some of the answers, and the rest I figure I will learn by trail and error.

So I put my nice linen down, cut a piece of cotton muslin and decided that it’s mock-up time. What will I use my mock-ups for? Casual wear. My girls could wear them. Or I just may give one out as a door prize when I teach a class on this stuff.

One things I did discover is that there are very little tutorials on-line on smocking from the beginning to the end of a project.  So I plan on making one. A smocking for dummies tutorial. That will come much later after I’ve learned it myself.

It may seem like I flit about from one project to another, not finishing any – or at least that’s what my husband thinks. But I’m not.

Side-laced cotte update:

  • Washed the fabric yesterday
  • Have one or two more dying test batches to try out before deciding on a color
  • Should be dying the fabric tomorrow

Blackwork Coif:

  • Still working on my needle-case in order to learn counted stitch blackwork embroidery.
  • Have the flowers and patterns picked out for the coif
  • The scroll-work design has been transferred to the linen I’ll be using.
  • I still have to decide on  exact placement and sketch it out, but I’ll do that after my needle-case is done.

Off to sew!

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Christmas Revel Prep

I’ve felt run down for the last few days, but I was hoping it was just a low iron week. I added my vitamins back to my daily regimen in hopes that would I feel better, but I’m still tired. This morning I woke up coughing. At least with the vitamin increase, I should be able to fight off this bad boy a bit faster than normal. I’ll just cure it with some hot toddies. Ooo, and I have a grog mix I’ve been wanting to try.  I do have to run out to get the Thanksgiving turkey today, but after than it’s bed for me.

The realization that I will not get done with my blackwork Elizabethan coif in time to enter it into Christmas Revel’s A&S has hit me. Counted stitch blackwork is very, very slow. I’m not even half done with my needle-case cover, and all I’ve done on the coif is planned and sketched it.

So, I spent part of last night looking through the documentation I’ve gathered for projects that I haven’t yet made, and I decided on the pleat-work embroidered apron.  Since my next non-A&S compliant project is the side-laced cotte (I’m just going to  machine-sew it), I want something to bling it up. Not much jewelry was worn in the age of cotehardies. By the time they introduced waist-lines, even the girdle was not tremendously popular. However, in a few manuscripts and woodcut prints you see a very fancy apron.

It’s white, although I have seen a couple of other colors, and it’s most probably linen.  Along the top, normally gathered edge, you see pleat-work, sometimes plain and sometimes with embroidery on top of it. It looks very much like smocking in some of the pictures. I’ve never done smocking (I’m a virgin smocker), but it looks suspiciously like cartridge pleats – rows of evenly spaced gathering stitches.

This apron is seen from the early  14th to the mid 16th centuries. So I can wear it with my cotes or my late period Flemish garb, which makes it a pretty versatile accessory. Here are a few examples.

14th Century Pleatwork Apron

Early 14th Century
Brown pleat-work apron with white edging

Early 15th Century

 

Mid 16th Century

Now to figure out the how, and hopefully later tonight I’ll start the pleating.

 

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More 16th Century Blackwork Fill-in Pattern Analysis

Oh my, I haven’t posted in a few days. It’s nearly Halloween – my favorite time of year. I’ve been, among other things, having fun with the kids. We were invited to one of their teen friend’s Halloween themed birthday party, and so I decided it would be the perfect occasion to go as something really scary. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on a side-trip to Walmart  for the friend I was riding with to pick something up. Let’s just sum it up and say that children screamed, I felt bad, and you may see me on the People of Walmart page.


Now on to the other fun stuff.

I’ve been continuing work on my needle case. It’s slow going, but my repeats are more consistent and I am picking up a bit of speed.

Blackwork Needle-case as of 10-21

The ruler should give some perspective on the size. Each repeat is about 1 cm by 1 cm. That’s a-lot of tiny stitches. It’s based off a pattern I analyzed here: https://maniacalmedievalist.wordpress.com/2012/10/11/analyzing-and-recreating-blackwork-fill-in-patterns/

I’ve also been analyzing other blackwork fill-in patterns from 16th century pieces. I have two more from the same piece as pattern #1 (see needle-case above). It’s an English 16th century pillow-cover  from the Falkland Collection at  Victoria & Albert Museum http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O317803/pillow-cover.

16th century pillow-cover from the Falkland Collection at Victoria & Albert Museum.

This little piece here:

16th Century Blackwork Fill-i9n Pattern 2

can be done in either direction.  It’s a really easy pattern, but the simplicity doesn’t mean that it isn’t very nice when used. It reminds me of seeds on a strawberry. The pattern itself is simple to recreate – alternating dashes.

Blackwork Fill-in Pattern #2

My third fill-in pattern is the last one from the same pillow-cover. It’s more complex than the one above, but it’s still fairly simple – diamonds and stars.

16th Century Blackwork Fill-in Pattern #3

My analysis may have an error, but I like it my way. If you look near the upper right corner, you can see that the diamond has a vertical line going through it connecting the center to the stars above and below, but I like it better with the space open.

16th Century Blackwork Fill-in Pattern #3

I’m hoping to finish up my the embroidery on my needlecase this week. I clamor about the time it is taking, but I need to realize that it’s not the project I’m working on but learning the art. Learning a new art does take time.

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Making the 16th Century Flemish Working Class Woman’s Gown Part 1: The Documentation

This gown or overgown was worn as the outer most piece of full body clothing in the 1540’s to 1560’s by working class Flemish women in Antwerp, the largest city of Flanders at the time. This first note of two will describe the features of this specific type of 16th century Flemish gown. Since no extant gown from this place, time and social class exists (as far as we know), I’m mainly using paintings done by two artists who painted many portraits of Antwerp’s working class. Pieter Aertsen’s and Joachim Beuckelaer’s paintings captured so many aspects of the working class’s life. Through these, we can glimpse the everyday activities of a class of people that are rarely noticed.

My second note in this series will focus on how I made my version of the gown.

On left: Pieter Aertsen, Cook in Front of the Stove
On right: My gown

Let’s start with the top of the gown and work our way down.

Straps

  • Seam on shoulder nearer the back than the front
  • Loose fitting: the outside edges are not necessarily form fitting

Bodice

  • Possibly constructed using a solid piece of fabric and cutting the armhole out of the top middle. No side or back seams present.
  • Inside edge skirts the outside of the breasts adding some support to the bosom

    • Joachim Beuckelaer’s “Christ in the House of Martha and Mary”

  • Tapers inward on the laced part
    •  Joachim Beuckelaer’s “Christ in the House of Martha and Mary” – above

    • Pierter Aersten’s “Vegetable Vendor”

  • Laced edges do not meet & are laced together using metal or fabric loops
    • Pierter Aersten’s “Vegetable Vendor” – above
    • Joachim Beuckelaer “Allegory of Negligence” – above
  • Spiral laced
    • Joachim Beuckelaer “Allegory of Negligence” – Above
    • A great tutorial on spiral lacing is Jen Thompson’s The Zen of Spiral Lacing

Under the Apron

  • What goes on under the apron is less evident.
  • Looking at details from Hieronymus Francken’s “The Witches’ Kitchen.”
    • The front opening seems to be open down past the navel, almost to the groin. Yet it only has lacings for the area from the waist to the top.  You can also see this in Johann Theodore de Bry’s illustration.

    • by Johann Theodore de Bry

    • Hieronymus Francken’s “The Witches’ Kitchen.”

       

Skirt

  • Gathered in the back with large, loose pleats

    • Bueckelaer’s “Flight into Egypt”

    • Pieter Aersten’s “Cook in Front of the Stove”

And that is all.

Coming soon . . . How I Made My Gown

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Analyzing and Recreating Blackwork Fill-In Patterns . . .

. . . are not easy!!!!

I’m working on 3 blackwork projects simultaneously. Or, more correctly, I am starting 3 blackwork projects simultaneously. It sounds like I have another case of “biting off more than I can chew,” but it’s not as insane as it seems and  actually makes a bit of sense.

The projects I’m working on are:

  1. Late 16th century English blackwork coif
  2. Blackwork cuffs, for an English chemise, using a counted stitch pattern, probably similar to Jane Seymour’s cuffs
  3. Late 16th century blackwork sampler, trying to incorporate a good diversity of stitches actually used

Right now, I’m in the research and documentation phase. Since all 3 projects overlap to some degree, I generally keep all three files open and go from one to the other as needed. I am planning to focus on one at a time when I’m in the creation phase of the projects.

Mostly, I had been working on my sampler research. I’ve reached a pause in that project since I need to decide whether or not to focus on the English sampler, of which there is more published research, or focus on the one Italian sampler that I really like but has nearly nothing published on it. The smart choice is the English, but since I’m still resisting it, I’m taking a break.

Switching gears, I’m heading back to my coif project. It’s a project I started back in June, but I haven’t made much headway on. Most of the problem is that I can’t decide what decorative pattern to use. Finally, I chose a pattern that took my fancy and I’m just going forward with it, no take-backs.

This is the coif design I’m basing my coif off of:

Late 16th Century English Coif

A basic hourglass shaped coif with bobbin lace edges, free-hand flowers, insects and leaves and scrolling vines. The vines and lace I’m keeping, but I’m using designs for the flowers, leaves and insects that come from other blackwork pieces from that time. I am, however, sticking with the idea of filling the flowers, leaves and insects with different counted stitch patterns. These will come from this coif and other blackwork pieces contemporary to the coif.

My first attempt at analyzing a fill-in pattern

I collected a few hi-res pics of fill-in patterns.

From a 16thC English pillow cover

After several attempts of freehand drawing the pattern (on graph paper, of course), I decided that a systematic approach was better.  This pattern has 3 main figures:

  1. The four-leaf flower
  2. “Snowflake” pattern
  3. Small geometric shapes that connect the flowers

One at a time, I isolated and analyzed each type of figure. There are quite a few dots left where stitches used to be. These dots help me figure out the grid of the pattern. First horizontally:

Flower from upper right corner

Then vertically:

Same upper right flower

The once seemingly curved, indistinguishable form now starts to look like a pattern of connected straight lines:

Same flower

I compared this plotted flower to the other ones on this piece (4 pictures above this one) to see if there are any discrepancies that would make my design flawed. I couldn’t find any, but if anyone sees them, please let me know. I repeated this process with the snowflake and the small geometric shape. My final pattern came out to be this:

My interpretation of the above pattern

I think, I think, I think that this is correct, but never having done this before, I feel like I’m missing something. Even if I am, I’m pretty happy with this fill-in pattern. It’s very pretty. Now on to the next fill-in designs, and then to start picking the actual flowers and plotting the coif! Exciting stuff!!!

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Making the 16th Century Flemish Working Class Woman’s Partlet

As I promised, here’s how I made my 16th century Flemish working-class woman’s white linen partlet. I found a cool painting that I forgot to include in my other Flemish partlet post.

No extant working-class woman’s partlets from 16th century Antwerp exists. The best I could find is a slightly out of period (1607) painting by Jan Breugel the Younger. The painting shows a “bleach field” – a large field where the washer women lay their laundry to dry.  The best copy I could find is still blurry, but I am almost positive that the figure I’m pointing to is a partlet.

The pattern itself looked simple enough: one solid piece of fabric for the front and back and then a separate piece for the neck. However getting it to hang right was a trial.  I did about 6 full cotton mock-ups and several more partial ones that were rejected immediately.

The pattern I settled on, of which I didn’t take any picture (by that time I was doubtful of ever finding one that laid right), was not the rectangle version I started with below.

Proto-type #1. Did not work.

Looking at it now, it would seem obvious that the shoulders would be way bulky on the area nearer the arms. No, no, no. This did not work. What I eventually ended up with looked more like this:

Once it was finished, it was obvious. The flaring out of the front pieces make the fabric on the shoulder ends much less, thus solving the bulging problem.

Totally unrelated: One of the things that has been a detriment to my teaching has been those “ah-ha, that should have been obvious” moments. When things finally click, I always feel like such an idiot. The solution should have been apparent the whole time is generally the way I think. I discount all those little gradual “ah-ha”‘that all added  up to the big one. So then when I go to teach, I try to go straight to that “this makes perfect, logical sense” answer, and it doesn’t always work.

For example, I’m teaching my homeschool co-op class how to make and draw your own Celtic knots. The subject to any normal person should be fairly intimidating. I’ve been doing it for a few years now, and so it all seems logical. Last week, I tried to skip all of the baby steps and lead my class (of mostly 10 year olds) to that logical end. I got one student who caught on right away and a bunch of others who had no clue as to what I was getting to.

It’s not that I don’t remember the baby steps, I just think I’m an idiot for having to go through them and for not jumping to that end conclusion immediately. At times I give myself such little credit.  I try to think of Columbus when I do that. There’s a story from after he came back from the Americas. He was at a dinner party, and the other guests were making fun of him. “So you think you made this big discovery! Any idiot could have just sailed west and eventually run across that land.”

Columbus picked up a cooked egg from his plate and challenged his fellow diners. “Show me how you can get an egg to stand on its smaller end.” The men tried getting it to balance for a few moments before they asked Columbus to show them. He took the egg and smashed it on to the table, small end first.

“Well that was obvious!” the guests shouted. Columbus then replied, “Yes, but you didn’t think of it.”

In other words, take pride in your “ah-ha” moments, even if it seems that the answer should have been obvious.

On to the parlet.

Once I had the pattern figured out, it was on to the cartridge pleats. Now, I love me some pleats, but cartridge pleats were sent from hell to torment us folk who have even a slight trace of OCD. Getting them to be perfectly even is not easy.

Carefully measure 1cm dots along 4 yards of 1 1/2″ fabric. It doesn’t have to be 4 continuous yards. I used the scraps that were left from cutting out the body. There were a total of 4 pieces – three that were about 1 1/4 yards and one that was about 1/2 yard.  All of the fabric was ironed in half before I began marking.

Because I did not want an excessive amount of marks to wash out, I used long quilting pins to run a straight line with each mark.

Each mark equals 1 running stitch made at the top and 2 at the bottom (about 4 threads from the bottom edge and then another 4 threads up). I wanted my stitches as even as possible, so I used a magnifying glass to make sure each stitch was where it needed to be. The extra effort makes the pleats look nicer.

Normally I would have used white thread for these spacing stitches. I used a dark color simply so that they would show up against the fabric.

At this point the pins are unnecessary, so pull them out. Yes, cartridge pleating is very tedious.

By pulling all three threads, the pleats come together nice and evenly.

Now do it again for all of the other lengths of fabric.

Each length of fabric will probably take more than one piece of thread. Just leave a long enough tail on the end and tie them together once they are gathered.

The lengths of fabric can be sewn together post-gathering.

I used and overcast stitch to bind the fabric edges.

Making sure that the pleated fabric is long enough.

Sewing one side of the collar onto the pleats.

One side of the collar is sewn on. At this point the pleating stitches are still in.

Make a double row of back stitches to make sure that the pleats stay.

On the opposite side make a line of back stitches through the pleats to make sure that the pleats stay put.

At this point, the gathering stitches are still in, but not necessary. Using a small, sharp pair of embroidery scissors, snip and pull the stitches out. I used scissor grip tweezers to pull the threads out without disturbing the pleats.

At this point I wish I had not used red as one of my contrasting thread color choices. Since the pleats so tight, when I pulled the red threads out, it left a trace of red color. It’s very faint, but it’s still there.

Stitch the other side of the collar on with 2 more sets of back stitches. Turn both sides of the collar down, and make a running stitch to tack the sides down to the pleats.

And that’s it!

Attach the collar to the partlet, hem the partlet and then it’s done.

Here are some great sites to for more ideas and extra help:

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16th Century Flemish (Netherlandish or Dutch works well too) Partlet

I spent most of this year working on one of my first complete outfits made not using a commercial pattern.  Let’s start with the outer most layer, and I’ll work my way in.

First of all, a  partlet or gollar is a woman’s piece of over-clothing, which covered the bust, back and shoulders.  It’s akin to a sleeveless jacket, but ends directly beneath the bust. In 16th century Flanders, all classes of women worn one if they left their home. It was actually more universal than that. The women in nearly every European country at this time wore some kind of partlet or vest.

I’ll be using the English term: partlet, although in Flemish literature at the time it would have been more likely called a gollar.

The variety of partlets all over Europe was pretty wide. From the  sheer silk Italian partlet that didn’t conceal anything:

Italian Partlet. Very sheer.

To the very fancy English one:

Although it’s not so black and white as that. Most cultures around Europe at this time had varying degrees of extravagance for their partlets, from the plain white linen to ones that were made of very  detailed lace with pearls and gems.

My partlet is one of the white linen varieties. It’s the style worn by middle and lower class women. This partlet is meant to be worn as a vest over the overgown. It can be worn as the last layer of clothing on the top half of a Flemish woman wore or worn under a black wool partlet in colder weather.

There is no extant plain white partlet from the Netherland area. What I used to base my idea upon was the paintings of the time.

Collar:

  • The collar varied between stiff  to limp and folded down.
  • Had pleats of some kind, but mostly cartridge pleats

Length:

  • In the front it comes down to just under the bust and a matching length in the back
    • P. Aersten “Cook in Front of the Stove” (above)

Front

  • The front two corners meet, but don’t overlap. Meaning they must be held down by separate pins.
    • J. Beuckelaer “Vegetable Seller” (above)
    • J. Beuckelaer “Market Scene” (above)

Shoulders

  • End near the ball joint of the shoulder – sometimes before the gown strap ends.
    • J. Beuckelaer “Vegetable Seller” (above)
    • P. Aersten “Cook in Front of the Stove” (above)
  • Not as tight fitting as partlets from elsewhere in Europe
  • Other Details:
    • It seemed to have no side seams, or at least this was an option
    • The collar was sewn on from a separate piece, and it seemed to be the only separate piece from the main body.
    • Unlike partlets from other areas at this time, it was a very simple design with no shoulder or back seams.
    • It was wider at the bottom than it was at the shoulders.

Coming soon . . . “How I Made My Partlet.”