Genevieve's Journeys

So in the end, I dropped about £100 on patterns. Partly to get hold of the patterns, partly to support the reenactor-gone-pro industry.

I'm now the proud owner of:

• Margo Anderson's Elizabethan Gentleman patterns


• RH 509's 15th c Florentine ladies gowns


• Tudor tailor Henrician mens clothing

Observations - note that I have not yet unfolded and cut these out, this is just from fondling the packages and reading the notes.

Margo Anderson's patterns are on conventional modern pattern paper, the thin stuff that tears easily. However she suggests ironing it to some cheap fusible interfacing for the pieces you'll use a lot, which is smart.

It's a huge package - several different variations on tabs, sleeves, collars on the doublet, and two types of venetians, as well as paned hose and canions.

The package includes a printed 3-hole punched book - kid you not, it's about the size of the Known World Handbook. It's huge, and has some excellent technique instructions. I may write to her to suggest moving it to a CD for printing - it's fortunate I have a N.American 3-hole binder that fits 8.5x11 paper.

The RH pattern is on heavy paper, with a handout on styles, and a handout with instructions. I can now see how a novice stitcher could really struggle with the instructions. Aside from the outlines, there are no markings - no dots, notches or reference points anywhere on the outlines.

In this case, it's a pattern for the bodice only - you're given instructions for skirts but no outline. I can see the logic though - most skirts are just rectangles, so you need directions, rather than an outline.

The Tudor Tailor pattern package is very heavy, because the patterns are on a coated paper, with a waxy side and a non-waxy side. These come with a handout based on the instructions in the Tudor Tailor book.

As it turns out - I won't have a new outfit for my sweetie ready for Crown - life has conspired against me, and it's just not ready. The hose are a mess - I'm really unhappy with the way the back seams spiral around his legs - I suspect the fabric being off-grain when I cut it, but I couldn't see the grain on black fabric, cutting in evenings, in our under-lit living room. Argh.

I'm going to try again probably with new fabric, this time with 20 year as a deadline, and hopefully spring, longer days, and better health will support me in the completion.

 ...and we'll be back to Raglan, our favourite event.

I've made pretty good progress on planned items.
- After something of a layoff from scribing, I ploughed through 3 scrolls worth of callig yesterday, and planned out one more with Robert. More perg-cutting to come this evening; then illumination Tues or Wed.

- The new floorcloth is painted but not yet sewn, and still needs a bag. Stupidly ambitious patterned design will have to wait. Finishing sewing to come.

- I managed to draft sleeves and add them to an existing gown, though they're a bit big, and I've debated fixing them (which of course would mean a lot of unpicking...). So far, laziness has won out over insistence on perfection. The easing to get them to fit is less noticeable when I'm wearing the gown! 

- the sideless surcoat is *almost* finished - I'm down to the neckline, and the hem.

For such a simple gown, I've spent a lot of time on this sideless surcoat/cyclas. I'm trying to get the Luttrell Psalter look - low, near-horizontal neckline; open armholes that are long, rather than deeply cut into the front/back of the gown; a generous hem.

I used my existing herald's cyclas, taking a pattern from it, then drawing out another version, and making a muslin of the neckline and armholes.

This wool frays something wicked - it's a beautiful colour, and drape, but a nightmare of threads dropping from raw edges. So I needed French seams on all the seams joining two pieces.

The curse of French seams is that they make you think you're working on the outside, when in fact you're on the inside of the garment, and vice-versa. I'd almost gotten all the way through my French seams on this item without having to undo any seams - usually I have to 'pay' with at least one seam done twice - and was feeling really pleased with myself....sigh. 

Robert salvaged my surcoat at midpoint when I discovered I'd very carefully stitched the lining to the wrong side of the outer fabric - complete with clipped seams and curves.

I find unpicking really disheartening, especially after a hours of work. My sweetie picked it up from where, after several loud Sewing Words (bit like Computer Words) I'd dropped my surcoat in frustration, unpicked the offending lining pieces, and pinned them all back on the correct side. Bless him.