Recreating a Paris Gown, Part Two: deconstructing an antique Paris gown

Paris was an exciting place for the fashion industry at the beginning of the century. The House of Worth in the late 19th century had created an image of luxury, style and exquisite needlework for wealthy customers not just from France, but from the Continent, England and the United States. The industry included not just employees, but contract seamstresses, embroiders, and finishers in little ateliers throughout the fashion district. Some of these capable women went on to create their own reputations and their own clientele.

 

Inside the bodice is a customized stay tape at the waist.

Inside the bodice is a customized stay tape at the waist.

Inside the gown that I was to reconstruct was this label, which led me to discover one of these innovative fashion houses: Callot Soeurs. You can find out more about them at these links:

http://www.fashionintime.org/callot-sisters-history-fashion/

http://www.victoriana.com/GazetteduBonTon/designerdresses.html

 

Here is an image of another of Callot Soeurs gown. (Source unknown)

Here is an image of another of Callot Soeurs gown. (Source unknown)

Photo of embroiderers from Les Creatuers des Mode, 1910; I do not know if these women were working on gowns for the Callot sisters, but it is possible! Many of these ateliers were on the upper floors of buildings so that they could take advantage of natural daylight from the skylights overhead.

Photo of embroiderers from Les Creatuers des Mode, 1910; I do not know if these women were working on gowns for the Callot sisters, but it is possible! Many of these ateliers were on the upper floors of buildings so that they could take advantage of natural daylight from the skylights overhead.

 

Beautiful embroidery, damaged fabric

Beautiful embroidery, damaged fabric

The Callot sisters were known for the use of gold and silver lame and poly-colored embroideries… On this antique bodice the metallic threads have torn the silk fabric. But the wealthy patrons never expected the gowns to last 100 years, so it didn’t matter to them that the metallic threads might damage the silk. These gowns were expected to be ephemeral things, worn only once or twice in the presence of a circle of friends, then packed away, possibly to be brought out again on a voyage or at a resort. The styles changed so quickly in this era that by the next year the lady would order another gown featuring some new and novel design.

The silk embroideries have lasted, so we are able to re-use these lovely pieces.

Silk embroidery on the original gown, shown against the skirt lining. Inside the elaborate darpery I found a straiht pin, left there by a long-ago seamstress in Paris.

Silk embroidery on the original gown, shown against the skirt lining. Inside the elaborate drapery I found a straight pin, left there by a long-ago seamstress in Paris.

One of the typical features in many of these late Edwardian gowns is the insert at the front of the bodice. These vestees are often the most distinctive and artistic section of the gown, repeating and embellishing the overall theme. On this gown, the silk backing the vestee has been shattered and broken apart, but the metallic lace was intact.

I carefully removed the intact embroidered bands, revealing the original vestee.

I carefully removed the intact embroidered bands, revealing the original vestee.

 

The silk organza backing was shattered.

The silk organza backing was shattered.

The “S-curve” silhouette is another trademark of the Edwardian era. You might look at those early photos and wonder how they puffed their chests out like that! This glimpse of the supporting ruffles may answer the question. These ruffles were made of substantial silk satin, gathered to the lining and allowed to support the outer fabric. You can see from the photo that the edges were pinked, not hemmed, and that this section of the dress is still like new after 100 years.

The original ruffles supported the "S-curve" shape.

The original ruffles supported the “S-curve” shape.

The bodice lining, fromthe inside, reveals much about couture construction techniques.

The bodice lining, from the inside, reveals much about couture construction techniques.

I was reminded of a different approach to garment construction as I studied the lining of this gown. If you look closely at the photo, you will notice that the shoulder strap section is sewn by hand to the body of the lining. The edges were hand hemmed first, and then the entire section was whip stitched along the connecting edges. Our modern method would be to machine these pieces together along a standard seams line, but this couture method gives the designer much more control over the final fit.

I have sometimes read ladies’ complaints about the endless time spent in fittings at the dressmaker’s in journals and letters of earlier times. As we examine the careful attention to a perfect fit, starting with that innermost layer, we can see why the fittings were necessary. This also helps me to understand some of the exorbitant expense of a designer gown. This dress was not pre-cut with dozens of other dresses and then sewn together by machine in an assembly line! This couture gown was created, customized and crafted for only one client. Of course she (or her husband) would pay for that sort of detail!

An underarm gusset was added for better fit and then embroidered to blend into the overall design.

An underarm gusset was added for better fit and then embroidered to blend into the overall design.

Note the underarm gusset… Madeleine Vionnet originally worked at the Callot Soeurs house, where this gown was made – imagine her learning to work with this element here, to be carried on later in her revolutionary bias cut gowns?

It’s a strange sensation to disassemble a piece of history. My usual inclination would be to preserve it. But, the client wanted to wear the gown, not merely look at it, and it was not wearable in its present state. It would be too small to fit her, and there would have been the constant threat of further damage. Plus, of course, a large part of this gown had already been removed from the skirt. We can only imagine how grand that section must have been!

I was privileged to be able to take my time in the process and to take clear photos every step of the way. As I worked, I learned.

 

Next post: the new gown

Comfort and Style at Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse

Skilled interpreters at historic places consider their audience, the setting and the story they are about to share. The historic replica clothing they wear should be chosen for authenticity and appropriateness. At a site that is open throughout the summer season, the interpreters’ clothing is generally lightweight and appropriate to the weather. But many seasonal parks open in late spring and stay open into fall. This is the “shoulder season,” a time when mornings can be chilly and cold rain can challenge the interpreter and the audience.

Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse

Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse (Mackinac Island Images)

Recently I worked on a project with Craig Wilson, the Museum Historian at Mackinac State Parks in northern  Michigan. You may have heard of Mackinac Island; it’s a place where automobiles were banned almost as soon as they were invented. There are still no automobiles on the island today. People get around on foot, on bicycles, or by horse-drawn conveyances. You may have seen bits of Mackinac Island, including the historic Grand Hotel, if you watched the romantic film “Somewhere in Time.” Mackinac City is on the mainland, one of six local park sites.

Mackinac Island, Michigan in summer

Mackinac Island, Michigan in summer (Mackinac Island Images)

In the wintertime the region is cold and covered with snow. But starting in early May, the summer visitors begin to arrive. Mackinac State Park welcomes them with historic sites from several eras, including the 1889 lighthouse.

Mackinac State Park Lighthouse

Here’s what their website tells us about the history:
“A point in the storm and a guiding beacon since 1889, Old Mackinac Point Lighthouse helped passing ships navigate through the treacherous waters of the Straits of Mackinac. There’s just as much to see from the top of the tower as inside the original buildings. Authentically restored quarters and exhibits, including the original lens and an audiovisual program, Shipwrecks of the Straits, make this “Castle of the Straits” a true gem of the Great Lakes.

The lighthouse is located in Mackinaw City, Michigan. It is closed in the winter and will reopen May 5, 2014.”

Problems in clothing the interpreters

Craig Wilson wanted to provide something that was both warm and authentic for the primary interpreter during the cool spring and fall days. The women interpretive guides usually wear skirts and shirtwaists from the era of 1910 to 1915, mostly in neutral summer colors. Some days, those cotton blouses just aren’t enough protection! Lavender’s Green worked with Craig to research and create a jacket that was both warm and authentic.

Designing the jacket

Fashions were changing rapidly during the ‘teens, the time represented at the lighthouse. A review of fashion plates and photos shows a wide range of styles that might have been worn in the big cities and by the wealthy vacationers at Mackinac Island.

October 1916 Russell's Standard Fashions, publ. by Dover Press

October 1916 Russell’s Standard Fashions, reprint published by Dover Press

 

Dorothy Minto, photographed in 1912 by Bassino

Dorothy Minto, photographed in 1912 by Bassino

However, a lighthouse keeper was not among the well-to-do classes, and the lighthouse keeper’s wife or daughter would probably not wear a high-fashion suit on her daily rounds. Instead, we looked to examples provided in contemporary paintings. These were scenes from everyday life, and they helped us to see what a woman might have thrown over her clothes in her home or garden.

Amer Edmund Tarbell (American painter, 1862-1938)  Josephine Knitting

Josephine Knitting by Amer Edmund Tarbell (American painter, 1862 – 1938) shows a simple separates look for at-home wear.

Another classic jacket is pictured in the 1915 painting, Portrait of E N Glebova by Russian painter Pavel Filonov.

Another classic jacket is pictured in the 1915 painting, Portrait of E N Glebova by Russian painter Pavel Filonov.

A slightly later painting, The Garden Bench, painted in 1920 by American Rae Sloan Bredin, shows a similar jacket in a summer setting.

A slightly later painting, The Garden Bench, painted in 1920 by American Rae Sloan Bredin, shows a similar jacket in a summer setting.

We chose this basic style, with a high waisted belt and some flare over the hips, as a typical style of the time. We had measurements for Helen, one of the long-term interpretive staffers. I started with a pattern from Folkwear Patterns, which is now out of print. Folkwear’s “Equestriennes Riding Habit,” (copyright 1994) was a copy of a three-piece 1920 linen riding habit, unlined. I began with that jacket, simplified the pockets, and added a silk lining.

Fabric and color choices

Craig wanted the new jacket to be a dark color that would coordinate with the existing wardrobe at the park. Skirts in the collection were tan, black and other neutral shades. I selected a nautical blue wool flannel based on its warmth and the beautiful color. I was able to discover a 1907 painting that showed that exact shade being worn in a casual, watery summertime setting.

Lady Rowing a Boat by Lilla Cabot Perry (American 1848 - 1933)

Lady Rowing a Boat by Lilla Cabot Perry (American 1848 – 1933)

The wool jacket is lined in white china silk, similar to what you might find in a vintage garment, and a useful extra layer against the Lake Michigan wind.

blue 1913 jacket 008 blue 1913 jacket cropped

The finished jacket

Senior Lighthouse Interpreter Helen wearing the jacket

Senior Lighthouse Interpreter Helen wearing the jacket

While it may not be high fashion for 1915, the new jacket is certainly an authentic and practical addition to the lighthouse interpreters’ wardrobes.