- Regency Gowns: Who Would be a Seamstress?
- Regency evening gowns: delicious detail at bosom and ankle
- Regency gowns: clean, alter, mend the damage
- Historical Costume 1780s : Polonaise Gown
- Historical Costume 1780s : Caraco. But what IS a caraco?
- Historical Costume 1800-1820 : the simple Regency gown?
- Historical Costume 1800-1820: a spencer for a skimpy gown?
- Historical Costume 1800-1820: Keeping Warm in a Pelisse
- Historical Costume 1800-1820 : Parasols Up and Down
- Designer Stubble: the Bane of Regency Book Covers
- Historical Costume, 1790-1830 : Shoes, slippers
- Historical Costume 1800-1820: boots and bags
- An improper blog : embroidery and the pains of fashion
- Historical Costume : 1800-1831 Royal Jewellery to bling it up
- Historical Costume 1800-1850 : the Lady’s Riding Habit
- A Close Shave (or the gentle art of Pogonomotomy)
Imagine a Regency lady with a beautiful evening gown, like this one in grey silk with pink trimmings and grey gauze oversleeves. But — oh, dear — she’s ripped it, or perhaps something has been spilled on it. Who will repair the damage or clean off the stain? The lady herself?
Unlikely. Much more likely to be an extra chore for the lady’s hard-working maid.
We naturally assume that a gown as expensive as this one wouldn’t just be thrown on the scrap heap because of minor damage. And with so many hours of the seamstress’s time invested in it — as we can see from the luxuriously buttoned back, and the padded and beribboned hemline, shown below — it would be a terrible waste. But at some stage, this gown ceased to be worn. Eventually, it found its way into the Wade Collection at Berrington Hall.
To remove stains?
We don’t know how often this gown had been worn before the stains appeared — and they might be due to age — but they are clearly visible in the close-ups below, circled in red.
If the marks had been grease spots, the remedy (according to Mrs Beaton) was pouring on two drops of rectified spirits of wine, covering with a linen cloth and pressing with a hot iron. That would have made the spot look “tarnished”. It could then be removed altogether by rubbing with a little sulphuric ether.
Health and safety of the maid was clearly not a consideration.
The general method of cleaning silk (again according to Mrs Beaton) was less dangerous: a mixture of a half-pint of gin, a half-pound of honey, a half-pound of soft soap, and a half-pint of water. The maid was to scrub the soiled side with the mixture, then to dip the silk in clean cold water and hang it up, without wringing. But it’s difficult to see how that could have worked with a complex gown like this one. Maybe that’s why the gown is in the museum with its stains intact?
Sewing: mending damage on gowns and more
A lady’s maid spent a great deal of time sewing. Much of that would be mending of one sort or another — rips and tears, missing buttons, and so on. The fine silks and gauzes of evening and ball gowns were very easy to damage. After all, an officer’s dress uniform usually included spurs — fatal if caught in fine fabrics. One clumsy misstep in the dance by any gentleman, military or civilian, could easily rip a hem. Perhaps that’s what happened to this embroidered muslin which has been neatly darned to be worn again.
The small darn in the skirt of this plain green silk evening dress is almost invisible.
But the damage to this bodice was surely not made by an officer’s spur. Stains inside the bodice, and damage to the breast region. Possibly by some rough handling?
Sewing to change styles
…could be converted into a rather more demure gown. It could be made suitable for, say, a dinner party by the addition of long gauze sleeves of the same silk (shown here simply laid over the short sleeves).
Horses sweat, gentlemen perspire, ladies glow
The plain green silk gown shown earlier was probably a favourite with its owner. Or perhaps she could not afford many gowns and so had to wear and rewear the few gowns she had. Not only had the green silk skirt been darned, but the damage in the underarm area is unmistakable. It is clear that the lady who wore it had done rather a lot of…er…glowing.