18th Century Coat Series: Introduction

I'm pretty free with information. For some reason, those in this hobby don't seem to be. I'll tell you anything if you ask though. I often get asked how to actually make clothing step-by-step in the period method, and how it differs from modern sewing other than doing it all by hand, so here it is straight from the horses mouth. In this series, I plan to take you through the basic steps on how an 18th century coat or waistcoat is made in the period method, including the steps and stitches used.

In case you want to do your own research, or you think I'm full of crap. Here are the sources that I use for my methodology:

Art du Tailleur by Francois Alexandre Pierre de Garsault (1767)
Encyclopédie, ou dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers by Denis Diderot (1771)

The Cut of Men's Clothes: 1600-1900 by Norah Waugh (2015)

Costume Close-Up: Clothing Construction and Pattern, 1750-1790 by Linda Baumgarten and John Watson (1999)
The Workman's Guide to Tailoring Stitches and Techniques

Mid-18th Century Frock Coat

Here's my first attempt at a mid-18th century frock coat. If you've read any of my other blog posts, you will know that I'm a fan of/glutton for speed sewing. This was probably one of my most insane endeavor to date. A start to finish (including making the buckram for the body pieces), unlined frock coat in 6 days. By then end of it, I was exhausted, but it turned out well enough and was functional.

All and all, I think that it turned out well enough. There is nothing fancy about this coat at all. It is part of my impression for the Artificer Tailor at Fort Frederick. This is a simple, unlined linen work coat that is perfect for summer wear. There are only 12 buttons (10 on the front, 2 on the side vents) and include 10 partially cut 2.5 inch buttonholes with 1 inch, cloth covered buttons.

The fabric is this really enticing color of brown that shifts between brown, green, and greyish tints depending on the lighting.

 I still need to make a few minor adjustments to it for it to be truly done. The skirts for the vents need to be tacked in place so that they don't flap about everywhere, and the interior seams need to be zig-zag stitched in place to prevent fraying. Other than those few minor details, I claim mission success.

Buttonholes and Distractions

 This is how I roll. Start one project, make decent headway, then get totally distracted and do something else. This is (somewhat) one of those cases. I've been working to make my green broadcloth frock coat more historically accurate, and I made pretty decent headway on it last week. Unfortunately the process involves almost completely remaking the coat.

So far I've torn the coat apart, cut off the edge seam allowances, re-attached the interfacing, and finished the button work. 1770's buttonholes are a thing of beauty if done correctly. They are thin and long--about 2.5 times the size of your button. This coat has 1.25 inch buttons, so these buttonholes are 3 1/8 inches of non functional beauty. Paired with the deaths head buttons, this coat is starting to look awesome.

I still have lots of work to do before it's done, but it's starting to look like a coat again. Naturally, though I took one step forward, so I need to take two steps back.

About a month ago, while portraying a refugee at Fort Frederick, friend of mine suggested that I contact the Fort to see if they would be interested in adding tailoring services to their collection of living historians. After a month of ironing out the details, I'm pleased to announce that I am officially the Artificer Tailor at Fort Frederick! Huzzah!

I will be at all the 18th century events for the remainder of the year, and will continue with new programs in 2019. I am very excited about this opportunity, and have all sorts of great plans and ideas that will be happening at the Fort.

First thing is first: I need an 1750s ensemble. All of my clothing is more appropriate for the 1770s. I could get away with 1760s with some of my waistcoats because extant garments did show a few examples of shortening panels in the 1760s, but I have nothing that is remotely 1750s. Looks like I'll be whipping something together in six days.

I would love to be able to make both a coat and waistcoat in six days, but it just isn't happening. Luckily for me, there are many mid-century images of working men wearing only a short coat with no waistcoat. Looks like I'm going for that. I am making a simple brown, unlined linen short coat similar to the one in this picture. Time for some speed sewing. What could go wrong?

Coat Linings

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I am in the process of reconstructing many of my current garments to make them more historically correct. Aside from stitching techniques, I am also trying to make my construction in line with extant garments. In my experience, I have found that most reproduction civilian garments are lined with some form of plain light linen because it's cheaper, cooler, and easier to construct than alternatives. However, if you browse the museum collections, you will find that linings are typically a combination of textiles, typically consisting of a silk or worsted woolen fabric on the parts of the lining that may be visible as your body moves and a cheaper fabric (linen) in the unseen back portions.

They most common lining colors that I have come across are gold, silver, and black. While those colors would go well with my green broadcloth coat, I wanted to see if any extant green wool coats were out there and see what they were lined with. That's when I ran across this beauty in the Royal Ontario Museum.

Not only is there an extant green broadcloth frock coat from the 1770s, the ROM has photos of the lining of the matching waitscoat. Check it out. I have never seen anything like this. The only way I could describe this is half-lined. The lining is truly minimalist by only extending to the what may be seen during wear and then quickly terminating into the interfacing. The rest of the waist coat is constructed like an unlined garment, save for the back panels that are fully lined in silk. Strange.

 It makes me curious as to what is going on inside of the coat. Potentially, the silk coat lining may end a few inches past the coat edge. I'm curious as to why this was done. Perhaps, the customer only had a set amount of silk and the tailor was working around a shortage? Perhaps, the customer wanted and unlined suit for summer wear, but still wanted to give the appearance of a lining? But what's the deal with the silk back panels in the waistcoat? Maybe it was altered?

Whatever the case this is very interesting.