elizabeth_mn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elizabeth_mn) wrote2014-06-24 02:33 pm
elizabeth_mn) wrote2014-06-24 02:33 pm
Entry tags:
1770s/80s suit
Here are a few more details to wrap up this suit project.
Okay, first of all, this is my 3rd attempt at an 18th century suit for my man, and I think I finally nailed it. My number one mistake the other times: WRONG FABRIC!! The first one used a relatively stiff silk, and the second used linen. Now, both of these fabrics were used extensively in men's suits of the period, silk being popular for the shmancy set, and linen used in blends or alone for casual or working garments, especially in America.
BUT.
Wool is much easier. Period. Wool is your friend. Wool makes everything happy. Wool steams and shapes and eases and stretches and bends and molds and drapes. Wool doesn't fight you. Wool doesn't look stupid just sitting there disagreeing. There is a reason why all those tailoring techniques work best on wool. They were developed using wool.
Wool is also kinda warm, which explains why I avoided it the first two times around; the suits were for summer events and I didn't want my man to get heatstroke. But it breathes, and I think it's comfortable for all but the hottest Midwest days. Like anything 85 or cooler.
My wool of choice this time was a navy blue twill that I got at a yard sale for about 5 bucks. When I got it home I washed it in the machine to felt it slightly (fulled cloth being popular in the era) and to make it clean, because garages = eew. It didn't felt enough to stop it from raveling, but gave the surface a nice napped texture.
The other thing I was doing wrong was patterns. I tried scaling up from The Cut of Men's Clothes, but the fit kept on being so wrong, and even when I got it close, I knew it was still just off. So this time I broke down and ordered patterns from J.P. Ryan. Now, these are not cheap, especially for a single-size pattern, and I am a cheapskate. I also tend to distrust commercial patterns, but they ended up being so worth it. I used the breeches and frock coat patterns, and the breeches required a little tweaking, but the coat needed almost no fitting alteration at all.
The one thing that bothers me: torso length. I'm not sure if the back buttons/pleats ought to be higher, at the natural waist, or if this is right. My HB is not tall, so perhaps I ought to have shortened a little?
Besides that, the back fits so nicely! Love it.
The vest is from the (failed) grey silk suit.
The breeches have a sort of bagginess in front which annoys me, but I think that's just the nature of the splayed-leg cut.
The other thing I have learned about tailoring recently, which blew my mind:
Please don't laugh.
I have realized that you don't need to interline the body of the suit coat. Not with linen, not with broadcloth, and certainly not with horsehair canvas. This is something I have previously done, and it has resulted in dreadfully thick, stiff, heavy coats. Why did I do this? Because the Laughing Moon Victorian frock coat pattern tells you to, and it was the first historic coat I ever made for him, for our wedding. The pattern instructs you to completely interline the body with horsehair canvas. Completely! Front, back, sides, everywhere. Not only is this hideously expensive, it's also just wrong, wrong, wrong. Horsehair is appropriate for collars, lapels, possibly the chest area, but not much else. The front upper chest can be interfaced with weft interfacing or linen canvas. And the back of the coat just doesn't need any interfacing at all. This is true for historic and modern.
I got the feeling the Laughing Moon pattern recommends so much excessive interfacing because she assumes you are making a coat of cheap costume fabric with no body. Appropriate fabric just doesn't need it.
My coworker at Treadle, who also works in the tailoring shop at the Minnesota Opera, tipped me off that I was doing it wrong. She thought I was just pathetically confused and of course I was dreadfully embarrassed, but at least I learned my mistake and corrected it.
Accessories: the tricorn hat is this inexpensive but still nice one from Jas Townsend. The socks are these clouded stockings because he refuses to wear white ones.
The whole project diary is under the tag blue wool 18th century suit.
Okay, first of all, this is my 3rd attempt at an 18th century suit for my man, and I think I finally nailed it. My number one mistake the other times: WRONG FABRIC!! The first one used a relatively stiff silk, and the second used linen. Now, both of these fabrics were used extensively in men's suits of the period, silk being popular for the shmancy set, and linen used in blends or alone for casual or working garments, especially in America.
BUT.
Wool is much easier. Period. Wool is your friend. Wool makes everything happy. Wool steams and shapes and eases and stretches and bends and molds and drapes. Wool doesn't fight you. Wool doesn't look stupid just sitting there disagreeing. There is a reason why all those tailoring techniques work best on wool. They were developed using wool.
Wool is also kinda warm, which explains why I avoided it the first two times around; the suits were for summer events and I didn't want my man to get heatstroke. But it breathes, and I think it's comfortable for all but the hottest Midwest days. Like anything 85 or cooler.
My wool of choice this time was a navy blue twill that I got at a yard sale for about 5 bucks. When I got it home I washed it in the machine to felt it slightly (fulled cloth being popular in the era) and to make it clean, because garages = eew. It didn't felt enough to stop it from raveling, but gave the surface a nice napped texture.
The other thing I was doing wrong was patterns. I tried scaling up from The Cut of Men's Clothes, but the fit kept on being so wrong, and even when I got it close, I knew it was still just off. So this time I broke down and ordered patterns from J.P. Ryan. Now, these are not cheap, especially for a single-size pattern, and I am a cheapskate. I also tend to distrust commercial patterns, but they ended up being so worth it. I used the breeches and frock coat patterns, and the breeches required a little tweaking, but the coat needed almost no fitting alteration at all.
The one thing that bothers me: torso length. I'm not sure if the back buttons/pleats ought to be higher, at the natural waist, or if this is right. My HB is not tall, so perhaps I ought to have shortened a little?
Besides that, the back fits so nicely! Love it.
The vest is from the (failed) grey silk suit.
The breeches have a sort of bagginess in front which annoys me, but I think that's just the nature of the splayed-leg cut.
The other thing I have learned about tailoring recently, which blew my mind:
Please don't laugh.
I have realized that you don't need to interline the body of the suit coat. Not with linen, not with broadcloth, and certainly not with horsehair canvas. This is something I have previously done, and it has resulted in dreadfully thick, stiff, heavy coats. Why did I do this? Because the Laughing Moon Victorian frock coat pattern tells you to, and it was the first historic coat I ever made for him, for our wedding. The pattern instructs you to completely interline the body with horsehair canvas. Completely! Front, back, sides, everywhere. Not only is this hideously expensive, it's also just wrong, wrong, wrong. Horsehair is appropriate for collars, lapels, possibly the chest area, but not much else. The front upper chest can be interfaced with weft interfacing or linen canvas. And the back of the coat just doesn't need any interfacing at all. This is true for historic and modern.
I got the feeling the Laughing Moon pattern recommends so much excessive interfacing because she assumes you are making a coat of cheap costume fabric with no body. Appropriate fabric just doesn't need it.
My coworker at Treadle, who also works in the tailoring shop at the Minnesota Opera, tipped me off that I was doing it wrong. She thought I was just pathetically confused and of course I was dreadfully embarrassed, but at least I learned my mistake and corrected it.
Accessories: the tricorn hat is this inexpensive but still nice one from Jas Townsend. The socks are these clouded stockings because he refuses to wear white ones.
The whole project diary is under the tag blue wool 18th century suit.
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