Two Week Breeches Challenge: Days 1-5

Well, I'm off to a start. Not sure if it's a good or a bad one, but it's not as far along as I would like to be. My plan is to sew fast and hard on the breeches themselves because I will still have to make cloth-covered buttons and sew all the buttonholes, which I foresee taking at least three days to complete.

I did also get sidetracked for two days and make a linen cap so that I'm not forced to wear my big hat  all the time. Totally on me. Here's the progress so far.

Day 1-Friday

Pressed wool fabric, traced pattern, and cut on the new tailor's table. (I'll have to cover that in another post.)

Things to remember for next time: Wool is slippery and the bottom layer likes to wander when you're tracing and pinning leaving extra bits of fabric in the middle of the pattern piece. Next time I think that I will iron a second time after folding the fabric to make sure that the bottom layer is completely flat so that I won't have to make corrections to the big pieces after cutting.

Day 2- Saturday 

Prepared knee opening on front pieces. Sewed front extensions, attached them to front pieces. Attached fall extensions to front pieces. Today's takeaway: wool is so much nicer to work with than linen and so much easier on your fingers.

Day 3 - Sunday

Got distracted. Drafted, traced, and cut a pattern for a cap. Started sewing cap.

Day 4 -  Monday

Still distracted. Finished the cap.

Day 5 - Tuesday

Attached pocket facing to on of the front pieces. Completed finishing top stitching on the pocket facing. Really would have like to have gotten both done. Oh, well. Hopefully, I can catch up tomorrow.

Post Day 5 Thoughts: I'm behind where I'd like to be, but I still think I can recover and finish these by next Saturday. We think that the baby has started napping on her own, so I may be able to get in some extra work over the weekend and catch up. I've also noticed a massive improvement in my sewing skills since making my first garment. The top stitching on these looks pretty great. Not perfect but passable.

Two Week Breeches Challenge

Breeches have a reputation in the world of 18th century sewing of just being the worst. From a purely sewing perspective, they are a massive pain. The construction includes putting together over 20 pieces of a jigsaw that was created by a drunk person, and the icing on the cake is the 17 buttonholes and six eyelets that you get to sew. When you then add in that they don't fit anything like modern pants, you have a perfect storm of frustration. I know people that have been doing historic sewing for years, and they flat out refuse to make breeches. The common opinion I've found is that, it's worth the extra cost to not have to do it yourself.

I have made one pair of breeches. Yes, they were incredibly frustrating. Bad directions and jigsaw pieces aside, I was convinced that these things were not going to fit when I was making them. My mantra of desperation was "but I measured." I nearly gave up in the middle of the fiasco to start making a larger size, but I ended up persevering because even if they didn't fit I knew that I could sell them. Surprise, surprise: they fit like a glove. My after thoughts were: "Eh, wasn't as bad as everyone said."

Maybe it was blissful ignorance, maybe it was sophomoric confidence, maybe it was buzzed planning, but I have decided to do something stupid. While others run away from the fire, I have decided to run toward it. Who says that breeches have to be a pain project that takes forever? Ok, everyone says that. But I say: nay!

We have an event coming up in two weeks. (Actually a week and a half now; I'm posting this late.) I would like a new pair of claret colored breeches to match my waistcoat, so I am going to try to get them done by the event time so that I can look Macaroni AF.

"But Sean, two weeks is a long time," you say. Why yes it is, if all you are doing is sewing. I will be doing much more than sewing. In fact, I will only be able to work on these at night (even on the weekends) after the baby goes to bed. I will be doing these all by hand, with 10 stitches per inch. If the tiny stitches don't kill me, the buttonholes will.

Wish me luck, and here goes nothing...

Triple Layer Crown Moulding

Look at this monstrosity! It's ridiculous! This, my friends, is triple-layer, corniced crown moulding. This is the great Satan of crown moulding, but damn does it look good.

I've been in the works of restoring our parlor since September 2017, when we had to tear down the lathe and plaster ceiling due to water damage. Twenty-five hundred pounds of trash later, the ceiling was down and we put up a new drywall one.

The ceiling though is a good 10 feet high and had no trim whatsoever around the top. So off to research historic crown moulding on Federal houses I went, and the triple layer cornice is the poison I chose. This design is one of the "classics" that can be seen in all sorts of historic buildings of the Georgian and Federal eras, including Monticello.


The picture to the left is a 21st-century reproduction of the moulding from Monticello that was created by the folks at Colonial Williamsburg using the traditional methods. If you've never seen someone make moulding using a hand plane, it is a specticle to behold. It's worth the YouTube. One thing worth noting about this picture is the acorn between the dentils on the bottom piece mouliding. I'm guessing that each of those was individually carved by hand. I would hate to be the apprentice joiner on that job. You will notice that the acorns are absent from modern reproductions because even robots don't want to put forth that level of effort.

If you want to put together one of these beauties, it's actually easier than  at looks. Mounting the cornice is the most important part because it bears all the weight from the other two pieces of moulding. You will need to mount it. If you try to float it, everything will bow and it will look terrible. Once you have that mounted to the wall and ceiling the other pieces are very forgiving. Side note: the moulding at Monticello is floating, but that's because the pieces are jointed using a sliding dovetail joint, which is much stronger that modern finishing nails.

To make the cornice, you will need a table saw, a router table with a 1/2 inch cove bit, and a finishing nailer. The wood required for an eight foot section is 1 1x2x8, 1 1x3x8, 1 1x6x8, and 1 1x8x8. Total cost for the wood is about $30.

The first thing that you want to do is mount the 1x3 to the wall 5 1/2 inches down and the 1x2 to the ceiling 5 1/2 inches in. I make a gauge the distance of the space from the edge of the board to the wall or ceiling to make mounting go by much faster.

Then you will rip the 1x8 to be a true 1x6 (a purchased 1x6 is only 1x5.5), and rout out the cove on the bottom of that board. You will then attach your plain old 1x6 to the coved 1x6 right where the cove ends to make what looks like half of a 5 1/2 x 5 1/2 decorative box. Once the box is done, simply attach it to the mounting points on the wall and ceiling with the cove part facing downward, and you will have one safe and secure cornice.

Attaching the dentil and top crown are easy after that because you are just treating the cornice as either a wall or ceiling so it is very forgiving. Just hope that your corners are square, otherwise woodfiller is your friend. (Wood filler and I are besties.)

Creating Historic Clothing

My opinion on creating historic clothing can be summed up in the famous Crowley quote: "Do what they willst." And now all the tread counters are rioting. Calm down, I'm not giving people a blank check for historic anachronism just because they think it looks cool.

My point is that different people make clothing for different reasons, so let them do it. I make clothing for living history so I try to keep everything as would have been done in the period. For me sewing the garments os just as much part of the history as wearing them, so I use period construction methods too. (I also don't know how to use a sewing machine, but that's beside the point.)

Just because I'm doing things that way doesn't mean that everyone else is required too. There are plenty out there making clothing for recreational purposes and do not need or want the level of accuracy that I strive for. I do ask one thing though, please do not present obvious inaccuracy as anything other than a costume. You know what I'm talking about: elastic, zippers, Halloween patterns, polyester, etc. Costumes have a time and place and living history is not one of them.

Side note: If you are into historic clothing, but can "only find" costume quality pattens or material, you're not fooling anyone. Stop being lazy and use thr Google to up your game. There are plenty of resources I can recommend for advise in plain easy language.

Also, please stop showing up to events in obviously anachronistic clothing. I understand that dressing up is enjoyable, but it hurts the public's perception of LH and we spend more time explaining validating our own attire than immersing the public in history.

Ok rant over, back on topic.

Don't let people shame you on machine stitching parts of your clothing that can't be seen. If someone is close enough to visually confirm your hidden stitches are machine sewn, they better be buying you dinner first :-)

You put a lot of time and money into your clothes so do what you feel comfortable with (and have time to do). At the end of the day, you will be your own biggest critic. I know I am, he says as he's about to rip out 20 button holes and resew a them.

Last but not least, don't be afraid to do something outside the norm if it speaks to you, but document, document, document. This is how we learn and grow as LHs.

18th Century Housewife

It's been rainy here in the the eastern part of the US for the past few weeks. The weather last weekend was downright terrible, so we stayed inside all day and sewed. I've wanted to make something more historically accurate for sewing at historic events, so I made this housewife from scrap fabric while watching movies and staying dry.

The whole thing is made from scrap fabric from other sewing projects. The body is 4" wide by 12" long with at 1.5" long triangle at the top for a total length of 13.5 inches. I made the body using two layers of linen buckram to give it extra strength and then piled on cotton and wool haphazardly with minimal seam allowances until I was done.

I wanted to make sure that it served not just as a kit for repairs, but as a convenient means of carry a full threshold of sewing supplies. I designed it to have two sets of pockets to carry thread and other items, a pin cushion, slots for scissors and a stilletto, and a needle wallet.

The problem I was running into was carrying thicker objects like wax cakes and thimbles the the thin, flat pockets.  Luckily, I stumbled across this sewing kit that was once owned by Martha Washington in CW's collection (see picture to the left) that has accordion pockets, and I based my design off of that. The pockets are made using scrap cotton fabric from a dress that I made my daughter.

To make the section for the scissors and stiletto, I used leftover wool from a waistcoat I made and sewed a series of eyelets to hold my tools. 

The pin cushion is made from the same wool and stuffed with cotton bunting. The stuffing loses all fluffiness the moment you roll up the housewife, but it still works like a charm.

 After putting all the pieces on the business side together, I covered the other side with more scrap cotton from another baby dress (dang kid needs to stop growing). Then I added 1/2" linen tape to the top to be able to tie the kit up and bound the edges using 3/4" linen tape to hide all of my stitches.                                                                                                                                               
Overall, it turned out great. I think that for the next one I make (of course the wife wants one now 😊), I will forgo the double-layered buckram and stick with one layer to save my fingers some wear and tear. I guess I could start sewing with a thimble, but then I wouldn't get the pleasure of occasionally poking holes in my finger.

Side note: this was also the first time, I'd sewn eyelets and done a binding. I will soon been in binding and eyelet purgatory helping my wife finish her stays, so I feel like this was a good easing in to that torment.

Introduction

Nope, it's not the early 2000s, when everyone had one of these things. This is really a new blog. I know it's a bit passe, but in this age of information overload (most of it not good), I wanted a place to log my experiences in the hopes that it will help someone else out there with similar interests.

My name is Sean. I am a living historian, experimental archaeologist, researcher, and general scourge on those who believe that history is not important to everyday life. You probably noticed that the blog title is parody that famous Indiana Jones quote "It belongs in a museum!" because I do not believe that history is something that belongs in a museum.

Hold on now, that was not an invitation to grab your torches and pitchforks and raid the museums for whatever artifacts you so choose. I will not be subpoenaed for this blog inciting the theft the Hope Diamond, so calm down. 

I believe that history is something that we should experiencing every day not just looking at it through a Plexiglas barrier. History is not just a list of names, dates, and events that only apply as the backstory to the present, it is full of experiences and lives of people whose names you may never know that you can apply to 21st century life.

As I said, I'm a living historian and experimental archaeologist. Does that mean I'm one of those people who dresses up in funny clothes and acts like they're in a different time period? Yes, that's one aspect of it, but there's a lot more that goes on behind the scenes than just the wearing of funny clothes that the general public never gets to see.

That's what this blog is about, the pulling back of the curtain to see what happens in between and around the wearing of funny clothes. Some of you may find it interesting, some of you may think I'm a nut (spoiler alert: I am), but whatever your thoughts on me are, if you learn something or get interested in learning something, I've succeeded.