Dress Sashes from My Collection, Part 2

Plaid Silk Taffeta Ornate Pleated and Fringed Sash...Bow

Here is part 2 in a series about sashes. Read part 1, about a pink double-faced silk satin dress sash.
(Plus, edited with new information, thanks to renna-darling, March 14, 2011.)
Get all the geeky image details by clicking on them. Some of the images are BIG.

This one is fun, and until recently, was just as much a puzzle as the previous example. It was also purchased at Curtis Grace and Associates. It's of papery silk plaid taffeta, 11" inches long by 3 3/4" wide. It has some water stains, especially on the tails. The silk is very strong. There is no sign of shattering at all, and no sign that the silk is "weighted" as so many turn-of-the-20th-century silks were. I have a sad examples of that, a petticoat bottom in pink and white warp-printed Colonial Revival pattern silk, and it makes me cry as with every even faint movement it goes to teeny-tiny shreds. I am glad that one cost only a dollar, or was it 50 cents? :}

Anywhoo...

This ribbon has been pleated at five intervals, with two tails of 32" each. Only one pleat is in good condition, and it's a single box pleat. The ends are fringed with cotton floss, macrameed for decoration.
If you are in for totally geeky detail, here below are those pleats, the bow position, and the ends, in excruciating detail. Can you guess what's going on?

Otherwise, skip a bunch of pictures and paragraphs to my suppositions about how this length of ribbon was used in a sash.

Here below is the sash ribbon laid out. You can see the positions in the ribbon where it was or is still pleated:

• Each end is about 32" long.
• There are five pleats, each about 10-12" apart.

Below, the most well-preserved pleat, from the top. It's a simple box pleat. The seamstress used doubled cotton (matte) black thread and ran two or so stitches, one atop the other, through all three layers to create and hold the pleats.

Below, another pleat, from the top. Notice all the tiny holes around it, from threads, no doubt. No other portions of the ribbon have such pinholes except these pleated sections.  Black thread again used here.

Same pleat below, from the back side. See the black thread? In some cases the pleats appear to have been box pleated, others almost gathered, but who knows, since the threads are all torn and sometimes just tiny bits remain.

Same pleat, same side, below, but stretched out so you can see the pleating arrangement.

This is the first pleat in from one 32" sash tail. It is just chock full of pinholes (in a spread of about 5 inches wide), and bits of black thread. However, there is a tiny remnant of burgundy colored thread (with light sheen) that matches the narrow burgundy stripes towards the center of the ribbon width. Then towards the edges, some remnants of a gray-blue very fine thread (very light sheen). The black thread is less fine and by the way, it still looks pretty black; I can't see that it's gone "rusty black" at all.

Below, one tail end, from the back. The raw edge has been turned under twice to a depth of 1/8" and hemmed in that burgundy thread, by hand.

The same tail end, from the front. Floss has been pulled through to the depth of the hem, then knotted macrame style, to a total length of about 4 1/2 inches. The floss appears to be cotton. Strands pulled apart fuzz lightly, and are not filaments; they are also not very strong.

Below, the hem, from the side so you can see the construction. I had to laugh at the geekiness of this picture.

So, what was this thing?

At first I thought it was a full sash. After all, I have been working on the 1790s almost exclusively for 18 months now and back then sashes were single lengths hand-tied.

I tried to imagine how pleats would look around someone's waist, with the poufiness in between pleats, even tried to think of the sash looped. Not an attractive sight, no matter the era.

Then, before dropping off to sleep one night, happened to think of the sash again, and it hit me, this was not the sash itself, but the tails, and the pleated sections were used in the construction of a double bow that lay on top of the tails. This decoration would then have been attached to a belt. Either someone had deconstructed the bow or it had fallen apart. Either is plausible.

Now, as to era.  I'll work backwards.

• 1970s and after: Seventies and eighties I know well and own a few high-end/couture garments...but all except the costliest feature some synthetic materials, and I cannot think of a home seamstress or local dressmaker doing this piece: that macrame floss would be hokey on all but the late sixties/early 70s, so maybe for a maxi dress outfit. Still, something's off. I go through my list of family and friends here and up North and elsewhere who dressed in these eras, and...it just doesn't fit. Narrow double-faced satin sash? Sure. Fat silk taffeta double bow with macrame, attached to a matching belt? Mmmmm, not likely.
• It may be late 1930s to the late 1950s.
• It's an adult sash ornament and those tails are very long, and the silk taffeta is fine, so it would have been for a very special-occasion tea-length or gala dress. 
• The fashionable silhouette was cone or bell shaped, referencing the 19th century, with small waist, and sashes and bows were popular accessories. 
• Plaid was popular in the forties and fifties and sixties, and so was taffeta. I wore my grandmother's spaghetti strap plaid green and black taffeta dress to formals in college, and it was a dreamboat of a dress.
• A real possible, then, produced by a home seamstress or local dressmaker with access to quality materials. The Met has some nice examples of big sashes, and this one has a knotted fringe too.
• Teens and twenties and early thirties. I don't think so. Fabric and style both feel wrong.
• Edwardian. No. Plaid was not a favorite and macrame styling was not in, that I can think of.
• 1880s-1890s. Colors seem off. Plaids were used in the '80s, but this burgundy/green combination? Again, doesn't feel quite right. A possible, but not overly likely.
• Late 1860s-1870s, even to Natural Form era. Of all the options, this is the one I like most, of course, though it turns out not likely to be an option.
• Taffeta was popular, and silk was the only kind available.
• Plaid was popular.
• These colors and the color combination was very in. If kept out of light, could not the colors have remained true?
• Macrame sash ends were popular.
• Bows attached to matching belts were very popular, and with long tails being an especial favorite towards the end of the 1860s.
• The fact that the silk is strong but the thread and floss are weak speaks to the passage of time.
• To test the stylistic issues and construction, step on over to the Cornell University HEARTH site, and look up Harper's Bazar. Search for "sash" and for 1868-69 you will get a host of results, including diagrams on how to finish belts with bows and tails very like this. Or if you have Frances Grimble's Reconstruction Fashion, consult it, because her HB images are bigger and clearer; Cornell's image scanning leaves something to be desired.
• Here's an example from the Met, item number C.I.40.3.1.

March 14, 2011: The Mystery May Be Solved

The sash ornament must be from the 1890s or after, for I just learned from renna-darling that mercerized thread came in at the end of the century; it made threads lustrous, as the perle floss of the fringe is. Renna-darling, a student in a textile conservation program in Edinburgh, pointed this out. This is where a knowledge of the technical is so very valuable.

So I am placing it around the late forties or early fifties, but not much later. The perle floss is weak, and so are the other threads, which is what happens to thread, but the sash itself is still strong. The style of fabric and fringe was popular then but not later, and all materials are natural...no synthetics. The later the years get, the more likely a handmade article is likely to incorporate synthetics.

Puzzles like this are such fun. Thank you, renna-darling! Do visit her at Sewing and Sundry, her livejournal blog. She has been writing about her conservation program, and it is fascinating.
Coming up later -- when I am unsure :} -- two more pieces: a complete sash with constructed bow attached to nicely constructed belt, and a length of wide single-faced satin ribbon.

Dress Sashes from My Collection, Part 1

"My collection". Well, doesn't that sound Grand? Still, I do have a small collection of antique clothing. For ages I've been wanting to share bits of it with you, in the hopes that we all might learn something from it.

Since sashes have seriously been on the mind lately -- how to get the right fabric, width, length for the Jane Austen festival day ensemble -- it seemed good to head to the chest and to pull out the sashes and sash-width ribbons I do have, and to examine them, if only to figure out how much fabric I need and if I could treat edges with gum arabic with safety.

What you will see below are not 18th century ribbons. If I found such a ribbon reliably dated to that period I'd about swoon. Still, they are 19th and early 20th century, and the stories they have to tell might interest you, especially if you like fashion from these eras, as do I.

Here's part 1:

Pink Double-Faced Silk Satin Dress Sash

This sash is made of unctuous double-faced silk satin, bought at the delightful Curtis Grace and Associates. It has heft to it, due to the two faces, it has a rich drape; it does not flutter. I tested that by hanging it and a lighter sash in a breeze for a moment. Despite its heft, it is still quite translucent -- see the chair back through the fabric.

It's 68" long by 4 1/2" wide. The ends are cut on the straight bias.

Here is a detail shot. Click please, for you must see it big to understand what I will say next.

I assume you've clicked and looked. Okay, the sides are finished with thick close button-hole-like stitching, machine made, one side ribbed and the other flat. I doubt if this sash was cut from a length of fabric, the stitching made near the edges and anything left over or trimmed off, or stitched over the edges themselves. You'd see tiny threads, sooner or later, and there are none, and the grain is perfectly straight. I think this ribbed edge was the selvage, and perhaps thick like this due to the double-facing on the satin?

Now for some fun. When I first touched the sash ends, a "hooray!" moment. For sure enough, the ends had been treated with something to prevent fraying. The stiffener can be felt from just in from the frayed edge to about a half inch. You can just barely feel a change in the fabric's feel, and it's a wee stiffer, but there is no color change. I am hoping that this is an example of an end treated with gum arabic, a tree gum long used to prevent fraying and to add gloss, as in the lovely pinked edges on gowns. In an 1888 issue of Good Housekeeping, for instance, it's recommended for adding gloss to shirt fronts.

Now, about its age and use. At 68", it's not terribly long, and who wore it depends on how it was worn. It might fit a teen girl if tied in a bow with short tails, but at that width it would be awfully wide on a tiny girl of six, even given the almost timeless propensity for adults to decorate young girls with wide fat bows. For an adult, it would have needed to be threaded through two belt clasps and so sans bow, and there is no sign that anything like that was done...no pin holes, no fold marks length- or width-ways, or anything. Or perhaps it was worn low on the hips and just folded over. It's hard to say. Sashes of this width could have been worn by adults as late as the twenties, so far as I know; after that such width would have overwhelmed the designs popular for waistlines. For children, up to a bit later, but not so much, I do not think, and this is truly unctuous fabric here, very expensive.

The color varies from a rich-but-soft shell pink to a vibrant pink like a tropical flower, and I think the latter was closer to the original color. Rich colors like that are found in the early 1890s (not after 1897, when we all went pale), and then again I think in teens and twenties and thirties.

Does anyone have any ideas?

A Mid-Century Underskirt, Photographed and Measured

My friend Denise picked up what appears to be a mid-century underskirt, as petticoats were known then, and I have examined, measured, and photographed it. It's a lovely thing, the hem being ornamented with hand-sewn eyelet embroidery and scallops.

I took measurements and examined it carefully, and then asked the lovely folks on the Elizabeth Stewart Clark board about it. Sure enough, it's a mid-century underskirt! As Elizabeth explained, the embroidery made it a nice underskirt, but not a high-fashion one; it might even have been worn by a working class woman for Sunday best.

I like the idea that just a few feet from where I sit, lies a petticoat that would have graced the top of a crinoline, and rustled starchily under someone's dress.

Photo: view of mid-century underskirt.

Measurements

Waistband width: 1"


Waistband circumference: 26 3/4"

Depth to the piecing or "yoke":
- left of placket: 2 1/2" to 3" for 3.25" length
- right of placket: 1 3/4" to 2" for 6 1/2" length
- middle: varying width, 3 1/2" to 4" for 16 1/2"

Length front and back: 39"

Bottom circumference: ~154 1/2" (38 1/2 scallops)

Photo: Detail of the eyelet embroidery.

Inside seam width:
- piecing or yoke: 1/4"
- panels: 1/8"

Placket:
- 16 1/2" long
- left side hemmed with 1/8" hem
- right side hemmed with 3/4" hem

Tuck: depth varies from 2 to 2 1/2"

Scallops:
- depth: 1 1/2"
- width: 3 1/2"

Construction


The waistband is folded in half, long ends turned under, and hemmed to the top 1/8" of the skirt. There appears to have been a tape sewn to the placket, but tape is in tatters and partially missing, and one one side of placket it's covered up by a very modern, very poorly sewn waistband patch. I think someone might have worn this for a costume at one point.

The skirt is in four panels. It's tightly gathered at top and each gather is nicely stroked: gathering is even all the way around the skirt. The result is a soft dome shape.

Photo: detail of waistband showing the finely stroked gathers, and wear to the fabric.

The top of the skirt features what I at first thought to be a yoke, and perhaps it is, but the pieces are not even: they vary in depth and length. So perhaps it was pieced...with the piecing being set at the top so it wouldn't be so obvious at the bottom of the skirt or get in the way of the embroidery.

The placket is set into the middle of one panel.

The eyelet work is lovingly down, and appears to be by hand since the positioning of the flowers varies a little and each flower hole varies a little, and the sewing is so very neat by not machine-like.

The hand stitching is even and straight, the waistband hemming nearly invisible, the tuck stitching is more like even tacking.

Condition

The cotton fabric is mostly in strong condition, but the underskirt has seen heavy use. There are several tears in the eyelet at the bottom and a few scallops have torn off. There is a mend at one spot: it looks neat but may be modern, although the thread is cotton. Stresses on the placket resulted in a tear down from the end of the placket to the tuck. The waistband is quite worn and someone added a horrible patch to one end to hold it together. There is no button and the unpatched end is rather shredded.

The stitching is in perfect condition.

You can see more photos on my Photobucket account.

Ornate Mid-Nineteenth-Century Chemise with Front Flap

A month or two ago, when winter still gripped us hard, for solace I browsed a favorite antique shop that sometimes carries vintage and antique clothing. I hadn't looked about for more than a minute when this garment caught my eye. It was listed as a pinafore, and very reasonably priced.

Right: chemise front

It's hardly a pinafore: to my middling understanding those usually fastened at the back and at this length, were worn by children. This garment is clearly sized for an adult.

It is actually a woman's chemise, but of a variant type because it features a front flap. Until very late in the Edwardian era, fashion historians generally write that chemises were worn, along with drawers, as the undermost garments. The chemise absorbed body oils and perspiration and protected the corset, which was worn over it. Over the corset a woman would often add a corset cover/camisole. This protected the dress and corset from each other and might also keep the corset from view if the main dress or waist (blouse) was at all sheer. At times, I have read that the chemise and corset cover were made in one: the chemise would feature a flap that could be pulled out and over the top of the corset. That that is how this garment is meant to be worn.

Very curious as to what I had, and wanting to share pictures of it with others who love antique clothing, I posted information and questions about it on my beloved Sense and Sensibility board. To my delight, other members enjoyed seeing it, and were curious about it or had information to share about it. The garment description that follows is immeasurably improved by their contributions.

Materials

The garment is made of an opaque, tightly woven, mid-weight fabric that hasn't any sheen at all. I thought it to be cotton, then wondered if it might be linen. It's of a plain weave, with occasional very, very small slubs in the thread. The fabric as a whole is the color of high-quality cream from the top of the milk bottle. Not dead white. On the inside of the garment there is a little yellowing , but very little, and there are a few pinpoint rust stains and one or two droplet size stains.

Suzi Clarke, costumier in London (http://www.suziclarke.co.uk/), wrote in a post of the fabric: "It is possible that it was made from "Horrocks's Longcloth", a firm washable cotton made and sold in England by, of course, Horrocks. This was a suitable fabric for underclothes, and was used for, and can be seen in, many still surviving garments."

Carolann Schmitt of the Genteel Arts Academy (http://www.genteelarts.com/) thought it longcloth too, and described the fabric thus: "a tightly-woven cotton with a smooth "hard" finish. The fabric was produced in England and the US and is very common for this period."

Longcloth has an interesting history, and while my antique sewing manuals and fashion history books mention it with frequency, none of them expound on either its nature or its roots. Finally, here is its story, courtesy Carolann:

"The name "longcloth" derives from how it was manufactured. Prior to the industrial revolution, weavers would produce fabric in lengths just sufficient to make a particular garment. Why weave more fabric than you need? It's why so many early 19th century garments (and before) have a "squares and rectangles" cut - virtually no waste. If you look at some of the cutting diagrams for chemises in The Workwoman's Guide (published in 1838) you can see how careful planning uses virtually every inch of fabric.

When commerical textile production is established, it's no longer cost effective to weave short lengths of fabric. A cotton fabric made from tightly-spun fibers woven with a tight weave suitable for undergarments and shirts was one of the first textiles woven in long pieces, hence the name "longcloth". A "piece" of longcloth averaged 62-67 yards; even today, textile production is measured in "pieces" - each averaging 62-65 yards.

One of my primary sources, in an "advice to young wives" article, advises purchasing two full pieces of longcloth when the new wife establishes her household. The first piece will provide enough fabric to make the minimum number of undergarments they should have on hand, including a dozen chemises, 4-6 petticoats, 2-3 underskirts, 2 nightdresses and 2 robes. (Notice they don't mention drawers!). Then, as these garments wear out, they should be replaced with new items cut from the second piece of longcloth. A very practical recommendation."

Right: chemise back

Construction and Measurements

The neckline is wide and shallow, and it is trimmed with a single ruffle edged with tatting. The neckline is shaped by the yoke, which gives the entire garment its shape. The yoke is quite narrow, measuring only an inch wide over each shoulder, and is identical front and back. It is trimmed with a band of broderie anglaise.

The front and back pieces are lightly gored: they are of trapezoidal shape, in the fashion that goes back centuries. Very similar to the pattern shape Elizabeth Stewart Clark uses in her chemise pattern on her site. The top of each panelis lightly gathered and stroked into place. In spots you can see the tiny gathering stitches.

The sleeves are short, plain pieces, carefully gathered and stroked into the armscyes, and trimmed like the neckline.

This chemise has a gusset inset under each arm; they are surrounded by a double layer of fabric, presumably to take strains. I understand that gussets under the arms were less and less used as the nineteenth century went on.

The seams and trim inside and out are exquisitely, precisely, almost invisibly sewn. The tatting, for instance, is made of single threads, and the thread used to whip it to the edge of the neckline and sleeves is so fine that it can hardly be seen. I do not know if I could find thread that fine now. The broderie anglaise trim is similarly fine. The main seams and bottom hem are machine sewn with a lockstitch machine, using similar or the same fine thread. These main seams are flat felled and the stitch count is very high, some 16 stitches to the inch. The ruffles are hand whipped to the neckline, and the reinforcement fabric at the underarm gussets is so finely hand-hemmed that it took awhile to find any stitching.

Measurements were taken on a dress form, but loosely:

• front and back neckline, shoulder to shoulder: 19 1/2 inches
• yoke width at shoulder: 1 inch
• sleeve diameter: 5 1/2 inches
• front flap width: 12 1/2 inches at top, 7 1/4 inches at bottom
• front flap length: 7 inches
• front and back panel width measured at arm gusset bottom, each: 27 inches
• front and back panel width measured at garment hem: 34 inches
• garment length, shoulder to hem: 32 inches

Its Date and Context in Fashion History

Much of the posting back and forth today concerned the chemise date. Portions of the posts are included here, and offer not only a date for this garment, but give a sense for how a decision was arrived at.

• Emma Ruth: You're right, it is a chemise. I would date it to the 1850s or 1860s because of the horizontal band yoke. That was the style of chemise worn while dropped shoulder seams were used on dresses. Once shoulder seams moved up to a more modern position by the early 1870s chemises with straight horizontal yokes could no longer be worn and chemises with shaped yokes came into fashion instead.
  

• Elizabeth Stewart Clark: "I'd ditto a mid-century date, due to the shape and "set" of the yoke. How are the seams in the chemise body handled? Is the body gored, or straight panels?"

• Acacia: "Perhaps more of us will join in here: I've done "surface study" of mid century but certainly not in depth. My first impulse was 1840's. I suspect it's the style of the white work that will help date it. It looks to be entirely hand sewn - is that right? It possibly could go one decade earlier into the 1830's - as you say the wide neckline hints at that, but this style neckline was still worn later - especially for ball gowns, which retained that style of open, wide neck. (After this, I detail its construction as a mix of machine and handsewing.)
  

• Suzi Clarke: "If it is machine sewn, it is highly unlikely to have been sewn before the 1850's when sewing machines were first commercially available for domestic sewing. Also, I can't remember the date when lock stitch, as opposed to chain stitch became the regular stitch, but chain stitch was the earlier."

• Carolann Schmitt: Mid-19th century chemises are one of my "specialties". I have 25+ in my collection.
  
  I'd date this chemise c.1855-early 1860s.
  - The neckline is starting to transition from the straight band of the early-mid1850s to the deeper shaped yokes c.1860-1865.
  - It still has the square cut sleeves, gussets and reinforcements typical of this period, before the transition to sleeves cut with a bias seam and no gussets.
  - This is the same period when the cut of the body of the chemise transitions from the full width of the fabric with inset triangular gores to add width at the lower edge (look carefully - the seams can be almos invisible!) to a body cut with gored seams. In the mid1860s this cut will transition again to one with some slight shaping at the waist.
  - The fabric does appear to be longcloth - a tightly-woven cotton with a smooth "hard" finish. The fabric was produced in England and the US and is very common for this period. Cotton had pretty much replaced linen for undergarments in the late 1840s-1850s.
  - Chemises from the 1840s are square cut, with a wide 'scoop' neckline, longer and fuller sleeves, and are much longer in length. The length of this one indicates it could have been worn tucked or untucked.
  - The flap protects the inside of the dress from wear and crocking from the corset. It's a characteristic feature of late 1850s chemises. I have two chemises with a flap in the front and the back. You'll also find flaps on nursing chemises - covering the slits in the fabric.
  - The trimming at the neckline - corded tucks, whitework band, tatted edging - is very common. I have two or three chemises with almost identical trim.
  
  Chemises like this were available ready-made at very affordable prices from merchants across the country in towns and cities of any size.
  
  It's a lovely piece, Natalie.

Additional Pictures

Side view

Yoke and neckline detail showing tatting, piping, broderie anglaise trim and stroked gathers on sleeves. Note: if you view the large version of this image by clicking on it, please be aware that I used telephoto to approximately twice the actual size: it blurred the image a little but also made the tatting look coarse. In actuality, the tatting threads are fine as sewing thread. Each picot is an eighth of an inch tall. The yoke is but one inch wide at the shoulder, and the ruffle but 3/8 of an inch wide.

Detail showing gusset with reinforcement fabric under arm