Trouvaille: How to dance with a trained dress in 1806

The "Toilettengeschenk für Damen" - or "A Gift for Ladies"

CC Zero, courtesy of Universitäts-und Landesbibliothek Düsseldorf

I feel blessed and privileged to have the fourth issue in my personal library, the year 1808 to be precise. This is a marvellous annual publication, published by Georg Voss in Leipzig.

The first three issues are available for download at the Universitäts- und Landesbibliothek Düsseldorf

Erstes Toilettengeschenk für Damen (1805)

Zweytes Toilettengeschenk für Damen (1806)

Drittes Toilettengeschenk für Damen (1807)

If you follow this link, you will find yourself at the main page, where a click on "PDF" next to the publication allows you a One-PDF download, instead of the "bit by bit" on the direct links.

The Publication is destined to every lady who wants to improve her accomplishments, includes treaties on elegant movement, music (for beginners and more proficient musicians), embroidery (and knitting!), literature, poetry, drawing, dancing and domestic economy. 

CC Zero ULB Düsseldorf, a knitting pattern and instructions.
Zweites Toiletten-Geschenk, 1806

I'd say, if I'd be a lady back then, this might have been one of my yearly subscriptions of choice, and even today I am scouring antique dealers to find other volumes.

I hope in time I will be able to digitise the year 1808, as it's too good a publication not to share, and it's one what is not online at the moment.

But today I'd like to invite you into the year 1806. It was inspired by a conversation I've had with a dear friend today, the old chestnut of "Should dance dresses have trains, or not?" and I remembered the Zweite Toiletten-Geschenk: 

While perusing the delightful publications, an illustration in the dance section of the second tome caught my eye. It was a lady, coming out of a minuet*, holding a train. 

I've immediately let go of the bit I was actually reading, and searched the description. Yes! It is the illustration of how to hold a trained dress when dancing. because the writer thought, that as trains will remain fashionable for quite a while, he'd better give a hint on how to manage it as elegantly as possible: 

Transcription of the German text (page 121)

Figur 6 hat eine Schleppe. Da solche noch lange Mode bleiben dürften, ob sie gleich beym Tanz unassend sind, so ist doch zu bemerken, dass, wenn es einmal eine Schleppe seyn muss, sie am Tanzkleide recht lang seyn möchte, um, mit Geschicklichkeit aufgenommen, der Draperie eine gefällige Leichtigkeit zu geben - wobey die Füsse die notwendige Freyheit behalten. Eine kurze Schleppe ist für das Auge unangenehm beym Tanze. Das Kleid ist gespannt um die Füsse, und Steifheit tritt an die Stelle der Freyheit.

Translation:

Fig. 6 has a train. As those will remain in fashion for quite some time, despite being ill suited for dancing; it should be mentioned that IF it needs to be a train, it should be rather long on a dance dress, thus be taken up with skill, to create an airy drapery - and the feet keep their freedom of movement. A short train is ugly to the eye when dancing. The dress pulls around the feet, and stiffness takes the place of freedom.

Voss emphasises the round arms, and despises too edgy figures;
thus encourages his readers to practice wavy movement and carrying of their arms

Even after all those years since I've read this passage, it makes me happy and giddy to have come across yet another glimpse, yet another facet, yet another angle of the time, and finally I found the time and the inspiration to sit down and share this nugget with you. 

If you stumble about original sources dance dresses with trains and how to deal with them, please do not be shy, I'd be happy to see other sources. Many people go by Jane Austen, when in Northanger Abbey it is mentioned how Catherine and Isabella pin up their trains "They called each other by their Christian name, were always arm in arm when they walked, pinned up each other’s train for the dance and were not to be divided in the set;[…]", yet I am more than curious to read other references.

I'd like to end this post with two more drawings on elegant movement (the issue also included exercises on how to achieve such elegance):

Dance Positions

Positions of dance and again, elegant hand and arm positions by the dancers

*Yes, the minuet was still part of a dancer's curriculum. Every ball of consequence would open with one, and it was deemed to be _the dance_ what needed to be mastered to be able to dance (slow movements give away sloppy footwork much more easily...)

It has pockets!

Among my recent wardrobe additions, there is one item what wasn't planned, and what I ended up loving to bits! It has pockets, it was sewn with no fabric wasted. It's utterly ridiculous, a pain in the eyes  to look at for a longer period of time and utterly practical. An apron :-)

Let's start at the beginning, shall we? I needed a gardening apron for our Weimar vacation, and I left the bag with the gardening tools and my sturdy apron at home.

Nope, that's not quite the beginning...

It all started last year, during our visit to the old cemetery in Weimar, where we were on one hand delighted to 'meet' so many good acquaintances, but also sad about the neglected graves. Weeds everywhere, hardly a flower, and too few people actually acknowledged who was laid to rest there.

Fast forward some months, and the wonderful Sabine was in correspondence with her Weimar Contact about the idea: "how about we'd pop by and do some gardening?" 

The idea was approved, and Mr Archivist scouted for some of the sites in need of attention, he updated Sabine, who then updated us. Keep your eyes peeled, I am sure Sabine has plenty more to tell about the project, and it is actually her story to tell, I was just a happy gardener that day :-)

Back to more recent times and the apron. Monsieur and I arrived in Weimar, and while I was unpacking, I noticed that we were one bag short. Did I lose it while changing transportation? Luckily my neighbour put me at ease, I just left it at home.

On Thursday we ladies went strolling and shopping in Weimar, and in a fabric store next to St Peter and Paul I bought 1.10m of hideously cheery checked cotton gingham.

I cut the apron with as little waste as possible (the only waste was me correcting the slightly curved cut by the fabric vendor), started sewing, and had a finished apron on Friday.

The bib is pinned on, the sites are somewhat pleated to fit (both sides to the same length), the string goes once round and is tied in front (because the back of my dress is too high for me to tie it comfortably myself... ahem... well... I've never said fashion would make sense, did I?)

The leftovers from the 'Bib' cutting were sewn together to form deep pockets.

I attached the pockets rather highly, what at first annoyed me, but proved very useful, as it prevented any contents from falling out, and I was happily wearing my apron for non-gardening activities as well instead of carrying a réticule. Because it has Pockets :-) I love pockets :-)

I was wearing it over my new print dress ( a dress what was also very 'easy' on the eye), because that dress features buttons on the back to prevent the apron strings from slipping.

I'll attach a measly diagram on how I cut the apron. I don't claim it to be 'authentic', but I liked the lack of wasted fabric and it did give me the look I wanted to have. It's not a "Tutorial" but if it helps anyone to come up with something similar, I am more than happy :-)

My little cutting diagram. I didn't measure much, the bib width and height was established by
holding the fabric in front of me and eyeing the approximative size. (It is centered though)

Some inspiration, what I've had in my head. I didn't do much research, I just went into a fabric store and used whatever information my brain had stashed away to go shopping. I went for the crazy blue gingham, because I've seen blue aprons, because the gingham would hide many stains and because I love weird fabric combinations.

http://www.britishmuseum.org/collectionimages/AN00100/AN00100883_001_l.jpg
POCKETS!! those are fancy with a drawstring. Mine are just normal flat pockets though.

With a bib, and the strings tied at the front:
http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b85624941/f25.item.hl

The finished result. We were waiting for Sabines contact, and while doing so, Suzanne was keeping busy with sewing, and I spooled some thread for her. You can somewhat see the pocketses :-)

Working, with Sabine and Suzanne.

I don't have many pictures of the apron worn, after all, we were there to work, not to have a photoshooting, but you can see how the side pleats give me ample room to move. The site is a re-burial of remains recovered during an archaeological dig at St. Peter & Paul, and is now resting place to several hundred individuals from the last 600 years. Among also some fallen Soldiers from Jena 1806 and later some French from Leipzig in 1813. 
Weimar is a fantastic place to visit, we discover something new each year, and history (also recent history) can be found at every step you'd take.

The Lady with the Comb

In March another miniature found it's home on the wall behind my harp, I call her 'La dame au Peigne Espagnol' or sometimes 'Lady with sprigged fichu' either would do. She's another lucky find of Monsieur, and we both fell in love immediately.

The picture of the seller

She's neither signed, not named, nor dated, so we have to let the pictures speak for itself. To me it's quite sufficient that she's in good shape, has no mould and no abrasions :-

Unwrapped, and ready for a gentle cleaning

The backing paper was gone, as we many
 of the teeth, and the lady moved quite
a bit in her setting

Luckily without major abrasions. She's painted on what appears to
be vellum, contrary to the "Dame au Schall Bleu" what is on ivory.
I love the fine details like her sprigged fichu and her Spanish looking comb

The glass has been cleaned, carefully dried

At the new place, close to the "Dame au Schall Bleu

By the way, for those who worry about me handling fragile miniatures with bare hands: I wash my hands carefully and use wiping alcohol to remove any left over grease, and keep the handling to a minimum. I prefer to have full control when handling fragile pieces than possibly snagging with cotton gloves. (also - if the gloves aren't clean, you won't be doing your objects any favour)

Un habit d'étiquette

Monsieur wished for some new clothes for the Grand Bal in Lucca, and he wanted it to be fitting for a court ball, thus he made it very clear that his green woollen coat will not do, and that I've promised him a new outfit years ago. True: I started the jacket and the culottes in black silk taffetas last year, originally destined for him to wear in Malmaison, for the 2ième Jubilé Impérial. As so often, it wasn't to be. He was sick like a dog the whole week before the event and dragged himself more or less out of the hotel room for the official bits, but wore his new silk waistcoat with silver bullion embroidery and his old reliable fraque (way underdressed, but I simply couldn't finish in time)

For Lucca, he searched for a year for nice cut-steel buttons, and was asking me more or less non-stop 'I will have my new outfit, won't I?'
To my friends great amusement I was sewing like a princess in a fairytale most of Friday and Saturday, stitch, gossip, eat nothing what could stain, stitch, stitch.
I managed the buttonholes in the culottes (don't look too closely), but had then to decide between covering buttons or setting in sleeves.
The sleeves won, as he could always wear his off-white culottes, but no fraque, that wouldn't do. And thus I've sat in our room, basting, matching, ironing, sewing. I discovered that tailoring is not my pleasure, nor my gift. And when he saw the state of my poor joints afterwards, he contacted a tailor the same evening to start a business relationship for his future wardrobe extension, to my great relief.

Anyway: here are some pictures, I am still quite proud he looked that handsome.

Picture by Coltrane Koh,
http://www.coleshot.co.uk/lucca-2016/

The outer material is silk taffeta, the curved edge reinforcement is very starched linen (basically glued linen. The body (and the tails, because they are cut in one) are lined with handwoven silk, the sleeves in muslin (I've run out of silk at the time). The pocket flaps are just that. Flaps. No pockets. The embroidered buttonholes didn't manifest in time, but I doubt anyone noticed, as his buttons were sparkly enough to attract all attention.

Sewing during the garden fete at Palazzo Pfanner
Picture by Antonia Mandic

The culottes were not finished (or rather the buttons were not), thus he's still wearing his woolen culottes, still with the 2 year old waistcoat (new one in red silk satin needs buttonholes, but I guess he'll have it for the next event)

For closing the most fairytale like picture (fitting to the enchanted seamstress, luckily not being the Lady of Shalott, even though I wanted so badly to leave my tower and go out into the town), by Charo Palacios:

Picture by Charo Palacios

I for myself wore the Vernet Toilette de Spectacle, the beautiful comb Monsieur presented me with two years ago in the back of the coiffure, the new comb flanked by silk flowers on the front. My dressing was actually faster than Monsieurs, including a quick wash and hairdo I was finished in 8 minutes. 

Once in a while...

... A lady needs a new handbag. Or a new jacket. Or new lingerie. Or everything in one (slow) go.

As my sewing doesn't really follow a firm schedule, it can take quite a while until I finish a project. This one here took its beginning back in 2014 when Sabine made a delightful workbag in pale green. The little flame of desire was kindled, and I set off to create a base in cardboard, covered it in silk, and decided that I wanted knotted decoration, thus started knotting.

Fast forward two years, after having stashed both the knotted trim and the workbag-base so well away, that they were seemingly lost forever, they re-surfaced. A bag was made from white silk, sewn into (ouch, sewing through cardboard is NOT recommended if one has already slightly damaged joints), the trim attached.

 

The medaillons are copies from one of my books (l'ami des femmes, a wonderful book about female health and beauty written in 1804 and dedicated to Mme Bonaparte) and as no copy shop wanted to print on my lovely paper, printed on modern paper and stained with black tea. (Two times Venus/Venere/Aphrodite. I'm usually more on the team Artemis/Diana, but the Kaufmann print wouldn't have fit) 

During the same spree of productivity I finished another ufo: a new pair of 1790 stays, based on an 18th century stays what don't fit too badly. It features front and back lacing, is constructed of two layers of sturdy handwoven linen, one layer of silk taffeta, stitched with silk thread, boned with reeds, and bound in leather (what also re-surfaced in the same corner as the half finished workbag)

 

...And a new little transitional jacket. I used an old caraco pattern for the lining and drafted the silk taffeta shell onto it. The jacket is fully lined in old handwoven line, with the exception of the basques, and has some valenciennes lace around the neckline. It closes with drawstrings and a little belt in the front, the sleevils were set in while travelling with friends.

The pleats are freehand, I've just checked that it's more or less even, but I didn't really measure.

A picture of the free hand pleating of the back, somehow I don't have pictures from the front, but surely there will soon be some. The odd thing is: this jacket only fits over the early stays, the later more rounded shape makes it ride up :-(

Bag and stays and jacket in use, at the Ligurian cost: 

Picture by R. Dumke / J. Bennett.
Shortly after, the water nearly got me, and I decided to forgoe shoes and stockings, and have a splash. 

Other friends like lovely B. followed, and suddenly we've had a crowd of photographer snapping pictures, while we were laughing, chasing ripples and giggling like children :-)
Picture again R. Dumke/J. Bennet 

we can thank Roberto Fusconi, one of the official photographers for this one. Suddenly I've heard someone shouting "Alé!" - and he was waving 

Here a picture showing the coastline, J. and I standing with wet feet, wet petticoats and huge smiles :-)

A Print Dress

About two years ago, the V&A offered fabric reprints in their shop, and I fell immediately in love with this print, called 'Coral Leaves'

http://www.vandashop.com/V-A-Fabric-Coral-Leaves/dp/B00B7KCAC8

The combination of Green and red leaves and twigs captured me, and thanks to the generosity of my sweet Mr R, the postman delivered 4 meters of this beautiful cotton print.

The construction was quite straight forward, but not fast: the challenge being the piecing of the fabric, as it was not sent in four meters, but in 4x1 meter pieces.

Challenge No 2 was my dear old cat, suffering of renal failure who took an unexpected leak on the ufo, washing unhemmed fabric bits caused some additional loss in width, but again, piecing to the rescue: some additional gussets and a fichu when wearing and we were in business again. (The sweet old daft cat left us at the end of June, he's still sadly missed)

The dress is unlined, front closing by drawstring, the back panel is cartridge pleated, and the connecting seam this odd crazy tiny whipstitch we see in surviving garments, what takes forever, but looks so good when finished! The cord to close the dress is made of three strands of white linen thread and three strands of green silk, just for a fun detail. 

First time worn in the New Year 2015, when visiting my friends C & F, to work on the musicians garments for the April ball. Between then and now the dress saw already some good use: to a dance practise, travelled to Weimar and dancing in Schloss Wildegg.

In the grand potager parterre in Wildegg, photo by Helga Váradi

Avec C. In his beautiful 1790 ensemble, all hand stitched by him. 

Photo by F.Robardey

Aurore. Or my take on a simple and versatile dress with long loosesleeves

I While I love digging in archives, I also love to sew, it's just the blogging about it what is not that much my cuppa. Anyway, I've stitched a bit in the last year, and those garments what have been tested and worn several times under different circumstances will make a quick appearance on the blog. 

Many of us love to copy dresses or looks, and my look of choice is the combination of White, Black and red. In any way, black dress with white fichu, white dress with red shawl: anything of the kind is fine with me.

Therefore it can hardly astonish that 'Aurore' (private collection Lancaster-Barreto) and the styling of the outfit was love on first sight. I love the wide sleeves, as I am very self conscious about my spindly arms and bony elbows. It just suggested comfort and elegance and practically jumped on the top of my sewing list.

http://napoleon-fashion.com/home

The French catalogue is still available, via the eBoutique of the RMN (Réunion des Musées Nationaux)

Once I've found a light silk fabric in Berne, I've started the dress, back sometime in 2014. My choice fell on a soft drapey 90% Silk and 10% cotton, what frayed terribly, thus all inside seams needed to be over stitched.  The dress is lined in the bodice with some of the upper fabric, and closes in the back with drawstrings, has some fine English tulle lace at the cuffs and one tuck at the hem. Again, a quite simple and easy project, yet as with most projects, I was sidetracked sometime during the process (the diversion was called the Jubilée Impérial) and only gave it a push to finish when I was invited to a Soirée in Munich by lovely Ms B in January 2015.

I've worn the dress repeatedly over the last year, and it proved its versatility: elegant for an afternoon about town with a chemisette and capote, with a long necklace at the said soirée, and simple without belt or any additional bling for a Yuletide afternoon with friends.

With Ms. B (long sleeves) and Miss M (short sleeves), during Ms B's Soirée. 

Photo by Mrs J.Bennett

Drawstring closure in the back, photo by Mrs S. Reil

In Berne, in the Maison de Wattenwyl, photos by F.Robardey

The garden door leading to the first terrace. Photo by H. Váradi.

And posing for the Holiday Picture with Monsieur R, the dress worn without any additional bijoux or accessories (I was wearing a little shawl for most of the afternoon though, as it is winter after all), though showing the side parts very nicely. Photo by F. Robardey