My 10th century red tunic/gown/thingy and linen cap can be seen behind this link. Super comfortable and absolutely effortless to wear. Not pictured is my dark blue wool shawl. Here is the inspiration article, which discusses the outermost garment seen on Norse depictions of women and presents some interpretations for constructing something that behaves accordingly. My shawl is a square piece of fabric with one corner folded inward. This folded edge goes around the neck and the shawl is pinned closed at the center chest. It provides nice coverage in the back, while allowing me to use my arms and hands much more freely than I can while wearing a draped half-circle cloak.
Earlier this week I finished a new undergown (with underarm gussets). Finally, underwear that's entirely hand-sewn and NOT made from cotton muslin! I have white fabric in both 100% linen and a cotton/linen blend in my stash, so I can't say with complete certainty which this is at the moment, but hey ... can't afford to be too picky, can we? No idea how much time I spent on active construction, but it's been about six months since I cut out the pieces ... Let's not talk about my ADD ...
Today I cut out an apron dress with triangular side gores from a grey-green linen or cotton/linen blend fabric. Fingers crossed that I have it finished in time for the event I plan to attend in a couple of weeks. If it all comes together, I'll definitely make a point to snap a photo of my summer Viking ensemble!
Mathilde's Sewing Box
Welcome to my costuming blog! Maybe someday I can make a career out of this sort of thing, but for now I am simply a hobbyist doing research and re-creating garments based on medieval sources - archaeological finds, wardrobe accounts, paintings, sketches, and sculptures. My goal is to have fun, learn some new things along the way, and share my experience.
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Monday, May 12, 2014
Out of the wilderness
Whew. The past few months have been a roller-coaster. It's nice to have my own space - and a real bed! - again. I'll be spending several months at my mom's house while I take care of some personal and legal matters, then focus on building some cash reserves for when it's time to move into an apartment.
While I was couch surfing I took a commission for four undergowns to be delivered at Gulf Wars. Well ... three were finished by GW, and the fourth was delivered at Spring Coronation.
I am definitely happy for the income I received for the project, but I learned some very important lessons:
1. I definitely am more comfortable taking measurements in person than relying on an existing garment to fill me in.
2. It is nerve-wracking to put hours and hours and hours of work into sewing and finishing a garment without having the wearer available for a fitting.
3. Everything takes more time than you think it should.
4. Some sewing machines are possessed, and will spontaneously start moving on their own even when your foot is not in physical contact with the pedal!!!
5. I love hand-sewing so freaking much. It is an act of meditation for me. Even when the sewing machine was behaving properly, I never felt entirely at peace while using it. Yes, I know hand-sewing takes f.o.r.e.v.e.r. ... But that's a huge part of its appeal :)
The only thing I made for myself in the past few months was a little Viking hood. Now that I'm getting settled again, I plan on sewing one or two apron-dresses and stringing some beads to hang between the wonderful brooches I bought for my birthday. Next in the pipeline is a Gothic Fitted Dress so I can coordinate with my Fighter's 14th century persona when we are both eligible for our Kingdom's Crown tournament.
While I was couch surfing I took a commission for four undergowns to be delivered at Gulf Wars. Well ... three were finished by GW, and the fourth was delivered at Spring Coronation.
I am definitely happy for the income I received for the project, but I learned some very important lessons:
1. I definitely am more comfortable taking measurements in person than relying on an existing garment to fill me in.
2. It is nerve-wracking to put hours and hours and hours of work into sewing and finishing a garment without having the wearer available for a fitting.
3. Everything takes more time than you think it should.
4. Some sewing machines are possessed, and will spontaneously start moving on their own even when your foot is not in physical contact with the pedal!!!
5. I love hand-sewing so freaking much. It is an act of meditation for me. Even when the sewing machine was behaving properly, I never felt entirely at peace while using it. Yes, I know hand-sewing takes f.o.r.e.v.e.r. ... But that's a huge part of its appeal :)
The only thing I made for myself in the past few months was a little Viking hood. Now that I'm getting settled again, I plan on sewing one or two apron-dresses and stringing some beads to hang between the wonderful brooches I bought for my birthday. Next in the pipeline is a Gothic Fitted Dress so I can coordinate with my Fighter's 14th century persona when we are both eligible for our Kingdom's Crown tournament.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
On Hold
Hi, Friends. Due to a pretty dramatic shift in Life Trajectory, I will be out of the loop for a while. I have some projects in progress, but won't be able to document and share them like I would prefer. Hopefully the transition period won't take very long, but until I get re-settled, Thank You for keeping up with my blog. I hope to return soon, and full of enthusiasm for the next fun challenge.
Yours,
Mathilde
Yours,
Mathilde
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Textile geeks can be a little Nuts.
Still making progress on the madder-red gown for my Viking ensemble. Seams. Lots of seams. Tiny little stitches ...
Since my last update, I received my brooches (shiny!) and my book (informative!) in the mail. I also got to work breaking a large bag of walnut hulls into smaller chips for use in a dyebath, and put my wool cloth through some mild torture to remove any sizing chemicals applied at the mill. This involved hot water and washing soda (alkaline), which can be quite scary when handling raw wool, but I know as long as I don't agitate the fabric too much I won't end up with a giant lump of felt.
1.1 kg of the walnut hull chips went into a large plastic paint bucket, followed by 3 gallons of boiling water. Stir, slap on the lid, and place the bucket in an out-of-the-way location.
One day and two nights later, I pried off the lid, fished out the biggest chunks of walnut hull with a slotted spoon, then poured the dye liquor through a mesh strainer to remove all but the smallest bits of solid dyestuff. I poured 2 more gallons of boiling water over the soggy solids (again, in a large paint bucket), slapped on the lid, and it's now waiting alongside the bucket of strained liquid for the Husbeast to leave for work tomorrow so he doesn't have to suffer while the house is filled with the smell of simmering walnut dye.
Since my last update, I received my brooches (shiny!) and my book (informative!) in the mail. I also got to work breaking a large bag of walnut hulls into smaller chips for use in a dyebath, and put my wool cloth through some mild torture to remove any sizing chemicals applied at the mill. This involved hot water and washing soda (alkaline), which can be quite scary when handling raw wool, but I know as long as I don't agitate the fabric too much I won't end up with a giant lump of felt.
1.1 kg of the walnut hull chips went into a large plastic paint bucket, followed by 3 gallons of boiling water. Stir, slap on the lid, and place the bucket in an out-of-the-way location.
One day and two nights later, I pried off the lid, fished out the biggest chunks of walnut hull with a slotted spoon, then poured the dye liquor through a mesh strainer to remove all but the smallest bits of solid dyestuff. I poured 2 more gallons of boiling water over the soggy solids (again, in a large paint bucket), slapped on the lid, and it's now waiting alongside the bucket of strained liquid for the Husbeast to leave for work tomorrow so he doesn't have to suffer while the house is filled with the smell of simmering walnut dye.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
The day I hit "Publish" without first adding a title
Sometime back in the past, I wasn't terribly interested in Viking garb ...
My friends, that has changed. This past week I've ordered some Viking-themed birthday gifts for myself - a pair of bronze tortoise brooches from Raymond's Quiet Press (these, for the uninitiated, are used to fasten the shoulder straps on an apron-dress) and a copy of Medieval Garments Reconstructed: Norse Clothing Patterns.
I also picked up some wool fabric yardage, an off-white twill which will be dyed used for either the apron-dress, a kaftan, or simply a cloak. Still not 100% certain.
I selected a nice rusty red cut of linen from the fabric stash for the gown. I had originally intended for this fabric to become a later-period kirtle ... But I can always use an excuse to shop at Gulf Wars, right? On Wednesday I cut out my body panels, rough-cut the sleeves, and began sewings up the center-front seam (the back is one solid piece), leaving a long enough slit below the neckline that, if needed, I could unhook a strap on the apron-dress and whip out a boob to nurse a baby. (No, I'm not pregnant ... or at least I don't have any proof of it as of right now, but it's on the To Do list, and since all the research and hand-sewing take time, I'm aiming for maximum utility from all new garb projects for the immediate future.)
Thursday I finished sewing the front seam, reinforcing it at the bottom of the neck slit. Then I cut out the underarm gussets and shaped the sleeve panels. Friday I sewed the shoulder seams and attached the underarm gussets to the sleeves along one edge. Yesterday I attached one sleeve-and-gusset combo to the body panels, and today I added the other. After dinner I'll fiddle around with the final shape and dimensions of the keyhole neckline and decide just how wide I want to cut the side gores. Since the body panels are trapezoidal, I don't need to add much extra fabric to accommodate a long stride, but I do need to measure what I've currently got around navel-level and figure out if it would be roomy enough for another little person to hang out in there for a few months.
I'm browsing eBay and Etsy for small brooches and beads that conform to my perception of the Viking aesthetic. Lots of possibilities. I also have access to a number of accomplished embroiderers who can help steer me in the right direction on decorative seam treatments and embellishments.
Side note: My grand-Laurel (my Laurel's Laurel) is the new Princess of Gleann Abhann, and she has expressed a preference for a Viking reign, so my shift in interest has been most timely!
My friends, that has changed. This past week I've ordered some Viking-themed birthday gifts for myself - a pair of bronze tortoise brooches from Raymond's Quiet Press (these, for the uninitiated, are used to fasten the shoulder straps on an apron-dress) and a copy of Medieval Garments Reconstructed: Norse Clothing Patterns.
I also picked up some wool fabric yardage, an off-white twill which will be dyed used for either the apron-dress, a kaftan, or simply a cloak. Still not 100% certain.
I selected a nice rusty red cut of linen from the fabric stash for the gown. I had originally intended for this fabric to become a later-period kirtle ... But I can always use an excuse to shop at Gulf Wars, right? On Wednesday I cut out my body panels, rough-cut the sleeves, and began sewings up the center-front seam (the back is one solid piece), leaving a long enough slit below the neckline that, if needed, I could unhook a strap on the apron-dress and whip out a boob to nurse a baby. (No, I'm not pregnant ... or at least I don't have any proof of it as of right now, but it's on the To Do list, and since all the research and hand-sewing take time, I'm aiming for maximum utility from all new garb projects for the immediate future.)
Thursday I finished sewing the front seam, reinforcing it at the bottom of the neck slit. Then I cut out the underarm gussets and shaped the sleeve panels. Friday I sewed the shoulder seams and attached the underarm gussets to the sleeves along one edge. Yesterday I attached one sleeve-and-gusset combo to the body panels, and today I added the other. After dinner I'll fiddle around with the final shape and dimensions of the keyhole neckline and decide just how wide I want to cut the side gores. Since the body panels are trapezoidal, I don't need to add much extra fabric to accommodate a long stride, but I do need to measure what I've currently got around navel-level and figure out if it would be roomy enough for another little person to hang out in there for a few months.
I'm browsing eBay and Etsy for small brooches and beads that conform to my perception of the Viking aesthetic. Lots of possibilities. I also have access to a number of accomplished embroiderers who can help steer me in the right direction on decorative seam treatments and embellishments.
Side note: My grand-Laurel (my Laurel's Laurel) is the new Princess of Gleann Abhann, and she has expressed a preference for a Viking reign, so my shift in interest has been most timely!
Friday, September 27, 2013
Little Red Viking Hood
Sitting in camp at Gulf Wars, a Viking friend took notice of my blue linen hood and asked if I might make her a hood. No problem! It's a simple 3-4 piece pattern (depending on the fabric width) and uses less than 1 yard of material. I took her measurements and we discussed materials.
Fast forward to summer, and the fabric (vibrant red wool) was delivered safely into my possession via a system of person-to-person relays. Time to get cutting!
The body of the hood is simply a 12" x 50" (plus seam allowances) rectangle. The front and back gores are right-angle pieces with curves toward the seams. The back gore is a little bit deeper than the front gore, which adds some extra wiggle room for the shoulders.
I sewed this piece with red poly thread, keeping the stitching as inconspicuous as possible since the owner will be adding embroidery. The seams were finished with herringbone stitch (tiny tacks on the right side of the fabric, practically invisible), and at the edge of the cape I sewed a narrow rolled hem, again with itty-bitty stitches on the right side of the fabric.
I delivered the completed hood at Kingdom A&S, and despite the heat and humidity in the display hall, Olrun popped it on for a fitting. She was happy with the final product, and I hope to see it in action at next weekend's Coronation - or if the weather isn't quite cold enough then, it should be by Christmas Revel.
Fast forward to summer, and the fabric (vibrant red wool) was delivered safely into my possession via a system of person-to-person relays. Time to get cutting!
The body of the hood is simply a 12" x 50" (plus seam allowances) rectangle. The front and back gores are right-angle pieces with curves toward the seams. The back gore is a little bit deeper than the front gore, which adds some extra wiggle room for the shoulders.
I sewed this piece with red poly thread, keeping the stitching as inconspicuous as possible since the owner will be adding embroidery. The seams were finished with herringbone stitch (tiny tacks on the right side of the fabric, practically invisible), and at the edge of the cape I sewed a narrow rolled hem, again with itty-bitty stitches on the right side of the fabric.
I delivered the completed hood at Kingdom A&S, and despite the heat and humidity in the display hall, Olrun popped it on for a fitting. She was happy with the final product, and I hope to see it in action at next weekend's Coronation - or if the weather isn't quite cold enough then, it should be by Christmas Revel.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Make it Sew!
Sooner or later, garb is going to start showing signs of wear - a popped seam here, a tear there, and how did I not notice that singed spot?!
(Thankfully I've avoided setting myself on fire, but you get the picture.)
Some people may choose to let it go, and replace the garment when it is well and truly beyond salvaging. I see it as an opportunity to make my garb more authentic. Fabric was expensive in the medieval period, but labor was cheap (it just took a heckuva lot of labor to produce a few yards of fabric - spinning all the thread for the warp and weft, dressing the loom, weaving the yardage, and dyeing ... all by hand). The bulk of the population didn't have the disposable income for an extensive wardrobe, so when an article of clothing suffered minor injuries, it was crucial to mend them ASAP.
My green Maciejowski cotte and my brown and green kirtle have been in service for roughly two years. At this past weekend's A&S event, I noticed a break in the thread where the kirtle's shoulder straps attach to the front of the bodice (and takes the strain of my arms flexing and moving about). No problem, once I returned home it took just a few minutes with the needle and thread for everything to get snugged up and ready for action. As I was looking over the green cotte before sending it to the laundry, I noticed some wear in roughly the same area - front arm seam. A little herringbone stitch inside the armhole (picking up just a thread on the public side of the fabric) and a reinforcing tack at the end of the seam should keep everything in order long enough to add some more outfits into the rotation.
Speaking of which, I've heard the alluring call of the Viking. With a minor alteration in spelling and a northward geographical shift, Mathilde de Metteneye from 15th-16th century Flanders becomes Matthildr (Björnsdóttir, perhaps - the Husbeast calls me Bear) from 9th-10th century Denmark. I've already started on a look book, and am browsing through Viking culture resources online to avoid any glaring styling mistakes.
Oh, rot. There are popped threads in the kirtle's pleats. Looks like I have a bit more fiddling to do before the garb gets laundered. Settles which outfit is going to Coronation, though.
(Thankfully I've avoided setting myself on fire, but you get the picture.)
Some people may choose to let it go, and replace the garment when it is well and truly beyond salvaging. I see it as an opportunity to make my garb more authentic. Fabric was expensive in the medieval period, but labor was cheap (it just took a heckuva lot of labor to produce a few yards of fabric - spinning all the thread for the warp and weft, dressing the loom, weaving the yardage, and dyeing ... all by hand). The bulk of the population didn't have the disposable income for an extensive wardrobe, so when an article of clothing suffered minor injuries, it was crucial to mend them ASAP.
My green Maciejowski cotte and my brown and green kirtle have been in service for roughly two years. At this past weekend's A&S event, I noticed a break in the thread where the kirtle's shoulder straps attach to the front of the bodice (and takes the strain of my arms flexing and moving about). No problem, once I returned home it took just a few minutes with the needle and thread for everything to get snugged up and ready for action. As I was looking over the green cotte before sending it to the laundry, I noticed some wear in roughly the same area - front arm seam. A little herringbone stitch inside the armhole (picking up just a thread on the public side of the fabric) and a reinforcing tack at the end of the seam should keep everything in order long enough to add some more outfits into the rotation.
Speaking of which, I've heard the alluring call of the Viking. With a minor alteration in spelling and a northward geographical shift, Mathilde de Metteneye from 15th-16th century Flanders becomes Matthildr (Björnsdóttir, perhaps - the Husbeast calls me Bear) from 9th-10th century Denmark. I've already started on a look book, and am browsing through Viking culture resources online to avoid any glaring styling mistakes.
Oh, rot. There are popped threads in the kirtle's pleats. Looks like I have a bit more fiddling to do before the garb gets laundered. Settles which outfit is going to Coronation, though.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Cloak blurb
Just finished cutting out my new wool cloak - did I mention how much I lurve the deep red color? It's so fitting for a Christmas Revel debut! Anyhoo, I've got it draped over a bundle of hangers to stretch out a bit before I finish the bottom hem. I'd recommend to anyone working with a heavyweight fabric (as is fitting and proper for a good winter cloak) to look for a bunch of curved hangers OR the bulky hangers used to store men's suit jackets. You know the ones - basically disembodied plastic shoulders with a hook in place of a neck. This will minimize the risk of creating a fabric bubble where a typical hanger's design diverges from the actual shape of a human's shoulders.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Bleepity bleepity cold bleep
It appears Mississippi has decided to jump on the Winter is Cold bandwagon, leaving me in need of a good wool cloak before Christmas Revel ... which is a little over a week from today. Merp.
Never fear, though. I already have some yummy deep red wool yardage and some silver silk (from the remnant bin - Pro Tip: always check the remnant bin when you set foot in any store that sells fabric) for the neckline facing.
The only hiccup in my plan is a stupid backlog of knitting projects. Perhaps I should get off the blog and finish the charity mittens today, so maybe I can get started on the cloak tomorrow before heading off to Thursday afternoon sit-n-spin at the local yarn shop ...
Oh, also, I whipped out a fairly simple loose hood out of some blue Remnant Bin linen before heading to Ork Wars. I'll make a mental note to snap a photo to share after I've finished the cloak.
Never fear, though. I already have some yummy deep red wool yardage and some silver silk (from the remnant bin - Pro Tip: always check the remnant bin when you set foot in any store that sells fabric) for the neckline facing.
The only hiccup in my plan is a stupid backlog of knitting projects. Perhaps I should get off the blog and finish the charity mittens today, so maybe I can get started on the cloak tomorrow before heading off to Thursday afternoon sit-n-spin at the local yarn shop ...
Oh, also, I whipped out a fairly simple loose hood out of some blue Remnant Bin linen before heading to Ork Wars. I'll make a mental note to snap a photo to share after I've finished the cloak.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
News from the College of Heralds
This morning I found a very curious envelope in my mailbox (i.e. something addressed to me from an unfamiliar sender that was neither a bill nor a credit card offer). I could see before I unfolded the enclosed letter that it was Something Important, since it had very bold olde-fashioned script as the heading. It was from the Sardonyx Herald for the Kingdom of Gleann Abhann. My name and device successfully passed the SCA Laurel College of Heralds, with only a minor alteration in the wording for the blazon (alaunt vs. dog).
So now I am officially Mathilde de Metteneye - per chevron vert and argent, five dogwood blossoms argent and a dog couchant sable.
Time to work some heraldry into my accessories, I think.
So now I am officially Mathilde de Metteneye - per chevron vert and argent, five dogwood blossoms argent and a dog couchant sable.
Time to work some heraldry into my accessories, I think.
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