The Tradition Continues: Gingerbread Houses 2011

Every year for the past nineteen years (as we explained in last year's gingerbread post), Ashley and I make gingerbread houses with family friends.  This year was no different, as we all gathered the day after Thanksgiving to create houses # 73, 74, 75, and 76 (that's counting between the four of us over 19 years!).

This year, in keeping with her theme from the last couple of years, Ashley made a Colonial Williamsburg-inspired blue house.  It has two central chimneys and dormer windows, and is decorated with wreaths and a pineapple over the door.

The roof of Ashley's house, with the cute dormer windows and the two chimneys.

My house (as usual!) is Victorian-esque with its porch and pastel colors and little side garden.  As a first this year, I actually forgot a chimney; I decorated the entire roof before I realized it and then it was too late to add one!  Ah well, next year!

Miss T, one of our friends, made a Christmas house with Santa, reindeer, a garden full of evergreens, and lots of red and green.  Her house came out so cute!  Mr J, her brother and always the most adventurous of us all, created an amazing gingerbread engeineering marvel: a windmill!  After only one minor mishap, he got the wheel to stick to the tower he constructed for it and it looks pretty incredible.  We never cease to be amazed by the things he comes up with!

Next year will be our 20th anniversary for this tradition, and we've already begun brainstorming some potential ways in which we might mark this milestone.  One idea is to begin with four generic houses and then pass them from one person to next around the table, every person adding a different element as the houses continue to circulate, so that we'd create four houses between the four of us, each a collective conglomeration of all of us.  Another idea is to make the four parents create their own houses next year, while we of the younger generation sit back and watch!  Our mum and our friends' mother made their own houses for a couple of years, but it's been a while and we can tell they're eager to try their hands at it again!  The real challenge will be to convince the dads that they want to do their own, too!  Our friends' father has already said he's willing to rise to the challenge, but our dad is going to take a little more convincing.  We've got a year to do it, though, so we'll see!  :-)

A "Threaded Bliss" Tutorial

Reproducing the Costume Close-up Jacket, 1775-1785:

A Step-by-Step Guide

Part One

A reproduction of the Costume Close-up jacket, laced with ivory

silk ribbon and paired with a blue/ivory changeable silk taffeta petticoat.

Photo taken at Colonial Williamsburg, December 2011.

Probably one of the most frequently reproduced extant garments amongst eighteenth century costumers and re-enactors is the 1775-1785 French cotton jacket (CW acc. no. 1962-259) featured in Linda Baumgarten’s Costume Close-up (pgs. 39-42). For Ashley’s visit to Fort Frederick a couple of years ago, I reproduced this jacket using the pattern and construction details in the book, supplemented with photos I’d taken of the jacket in one of the study drawers at Colonial Williamsburg.

The original jacket featured in Costume Close-up (CW acc. no. 1962-259).

Photo linked from the Colonial Williamsburg E-museum.

For additional photos of our own, see this earlier post.

Since I made that first jacket for Ashley, I’ve since made two more for myself using that same pattern: one in a tri-color cotton block print for camp wear last spring, and the other (which I started last Thanksgiving weekend and finished almost exactly a year later, pathetic I know) in a Dutch chintz reproduction fabric. Considering the popularity of this jacket’s style (today, though not necessarily in the last quarter of the 18th century - that's still a matter of debate!), it’s relative ease of construction, and the fact that it’s just downright cute and fun to wear, we’ve decided to do a detailed step-by-step tutorial on how to reproduce "The Costume Close-up jacket" from the book pattern through to the final stitch and the proper way to wear it. Using the original jacket as the guiding document source, our goal here is to lead you through to create the most accurate and exact reproduction garment possible, utilizing only the hand-sewing and period construction techniques used in the period (though we will be using a pattern rather than draping, since this is intended to be an exercise in reproduction!).  We hope this guide will prove useful to those who have hitherto been wary of attempting period clothing from scaled patterns, and hope it will encourage you to start sewing!

This is the first full tutorial I've ever attempted, so please feel free to let me know if I can clarify anything along the way.  In offering this tutorial, I don't claim any kind of expertise; everything I describe here is what I've gleaned from personal research - books, examining extant garments, and experience; outside of a single workshop on stays, I freely admit to being entirely self-taught.  That said, I strive to gather as much information as possible before pursuing a project like this, and I've done my best to provide the most historically-accurate construction process possible.  If there's anyone more knowledgeable than myself who would like to contribute something further or offer any suggestions or corrections to this tutorial, I'm always pleased and grateful to welcome your input!


The pattern: A scaled drawing of an extant jacket in the collection of Colonial Williamsburg, accession number 1962-259, included in Costume Close-up, by Linda Baumgarten, pgs. 39-42.  The jacket is French in origin, but fashions were swiftly carried across the Atlantic and similar styles were certainly worn simultaneously in the colonies.  Its silhouette and fabric date it to 1775-1785.

Enlarging the pattern:
Everyone has a different and personally preferred method for enlarging scaled patterns.  There's plenty of information available online that describes the various possibilities, so I'll just give a brief description of my approach.  My only complaint - and it's a very minor one! - about Costume Close-up is that the patterns aren't given on a full grid (as they are in Patterns of Fashion, for instance).  When reproducing something from this particular book, then, I find it easiest to draw in my own grid, and then enlarge the pattern by hand onto gridded paper from there.  It's slow going, but I think the extra time is worth it if you're looking to make as true and exact a reproduction as possible.  Of course, if you know you'll need to change the pattern significantly to fit yourself, a meticulous scaling-up process like this might not be necessary or even practical, and you might prefer to try an alternate method that allows you to capture more generally the shape and key proportions of the pattern.  Luckily, the original pattern fits me exactly in the body and very closely in the sleeves, so enlarging the original and sticking as close to its lines as possible makes sense for me.

The process of translating the scaled pattern of the original into its actual size.

Be sure to make a muslin of your pattern and to make all necessary adjustments on it so that your pattern is finalized before you begin cutting your fabric.  Though a slightly less formal garment than a gown, a jacket like this should still be worn over stays, so do your pattern fitting and alterations wearing them.  Baumgarten speculates that the original jacket was worn with a stomacher, so a gap of a several inches at the center front should be retained as you fit your muslin.  The jacket could also be worn without a stomacher, the gap laced across either bare stays or a neck handkerchief.  Period images indicate it is also appropriate to have the jacket closed at center front, so if you'd like to make the edges lace closed entirely, just add in the extra width to accommodate that as your tweak and finalize your pattern.  There are many options with this pattern, which is yet another reason why I love working with it.


Selecting the fabric: The original jacket is made of a block-printed and "penciled" cotton quite similar to some which can be found in the billet books of the Foundling Museum (which you can see in Dress of the People and Threads of Feeling, both by John Styles). Because jackets took considerably less fabric than full-length gowns and were more stylishly and closely tailored than bedgowns, they were a popular choice across many social levels. Middling- or even upper-class women might choose to wear a fine printed cotton or silk jacket for undress, while such a garment might be a way for a working-class woman with less to spend on her wardrobe to still achieve a fashionable appearance in a more practical and affordable way. Because of the small amount of fabric they require, jackets like this one could also easily be cut from the fabric of an old, disassembled gown.

When selecting your fabric for this project, as always consider the social level you intend to represent.  In the case of a jacket with only a yard or two of fabric, though, there is a reasonable amount of leeway and you can have a lot of fun in devising stories to explain your possession of certain exotic or expensive fabrics if you portray a woman of lower status.  Making and wearing a garment like this can be a fantastic way to open up all sorts of conversations with visitors, guests, and students about not only fashion and clothing construction, but also about consumer culture vs. recycling with expensive items like textiles, the geographic origins and circulation of goods, and the cross-pollination across social classes that took place on so levels.

For my jacket, I wanted a cotton print similar in style, scale, and coloring to the original.  I also wanted a print that could appropriately be either dressed up with a silk petticoat (for middling daywear) or dressed down with a linen one (for a "best" working class outfit).  When I was searching for fabric over a year ago, the October before last, there was very little available in the way of prints (neither B&T nor Wm. Booth had restocked their cottons at the time), so I went searching for an Indian block print.  That let me to Time Traveler Textiles, where I was thrilled to find some of the Den Hann & Wagenmakers' "Wilhelmina" design in blue/mauve/ivory available at an affordable price, so I opted for that (Wm. Booth has since ordered a bunch of gorgeous prints - including this one - from DH&W and Duran, if you're interested in something similar).

"Wilhelmina" in mauve, by Den Haan & Wagenmakers.  This is a reproduction

of an 18th-century Dutch chintz found on an extant jacket and petticoat. 

It is currently available directly from DH&W or through Wm Booth.

One final note on fabric before I get into the construction details.  If you ever intend to wash your jacket, be sure to pre-wash your fabric before you cut it because it will shrink (trust me, I speak from experience...!).  The one exception might be a chintz like the one I've chosen, which is treated with the light, shiny glaze that gives the fabric its name.  Washing it will remove the glaze, so if you'd like to retain that important period detail, consider carefully which is more important for your specific needs: washability or the crisp period textile finish.  For this project, I opted not to pre-wash my fabric, but again, that's a personal choice.  I don't know the effects of dry cleaning on chintz, whether or not it will shrink the fabric or destroy the finish.  If anyone has any experience with that, do please let me know!


Construction details: Because each step will be illustrated with multiple photos (and because this is already an epic post!), I've broken down the construction process into discrete sections that I'll post over the next week.  This will help keep things organized and allow those who wish to skip certain steps to do so more easily.  The time lapse between the posts for each section are also designed to help give anyone who would like to "sew along" the chance to do so at a comfortable speed.  Please let us know if you do decide to sew along because, as always, we'd love to see what you create!

Additional photos illustrating each step can be found on this project's flickr set.  The numbers listed in parentheses at the end of each step correspond to the numbered photos from the set.

Sleeves:
1) Lay each sleeve over its lining, right side of the outer fabric facing up. Bring the side of the sleeve closest to the cap/head over to match the other side, so that only the chintz is folded, right sides together.

Folding over just the outer fabric...

Backstitch a seam through both layers of chintz and the one layer of lining.  Leave the bottom 1/2" at the elbow end unsewn. (#4-8)

The sleeve ready to be seamed.

Leave the bottom 1/2" unsewn; this is necessary to ensure you have the

allowance to finish the edge of the sleeves (in a later step).

2) Bring the other side of the lining over to the seam you've just sewn, turn under its seam allowance, and slipstitch it into place to cover the backstitching.  Again, leave the bottom 1/2" at the elbow end open.  Repeat for the other sleeve. (#9-12)

Cover your backstitched seam by folding under the seam allowance

of the other side of the lining and slipstitch it into place.

The completed seam.

3) On the original, Baumgarten observes that the darts used to shape the elbow were sewn from the right side using a lapped seam (illustrated in Costume Close-up on pg. 39). To do this, first make a small snip - only about 1/4" to 3/8" - at the center of the inverted "V" at the elbow (bottom) of the sleeve.

Snipping the "V" to prepare for the elbow dart.

Then turn the sleeve right-side out.  Fold under the seam allowance of the outer fabric of one side of the "V".  Bring it to overlap the seam allowance of the other side of the "V" and pin it into place; then top-stitch (a spaced backstitch works nicely) through the folded edge of the one side and the outer fabric and lining of the other side.  Be sure you do not catch the lining of the first (folded) side in this seam.  Again, leave about 1/2" from the edge unsewn, as you did above.

Fold under the outer fabric of one side the "V" and overlay it on top

of the other side's outer fabric and lining.

Using a spaced backstitch (or a plain backstitch), top-stitch the

dart to form the lapped seam.

Then flip the sleeve inside-out again.  Fold under the seam allowance of the lining that is now hanging loose and slipstitch it over the seam you just made (just as you did in Step 2), leaving the bottom 1/2" unsewn. (#13-20)

Slipstitch the lining to complete the lapped seam, leaving the 1/2"

closest the edge unsewn.

4) Fold under the seam allowances of both the outer fabric and the lining (i.e. fold them in towards each other, so the raw edges of each will be concealed) about 1/8"-1/4" at the bottom edge of the sleeve.  Fold the lining in ever-so-slightly more so that the edge of the outer fabric peeks above it when viewed from the lining side of the sleeve.  Using le point a rabattre sous la main, the stitch illustrated by Baumgarten on page 8 and identified as having been used on the original jacket, finish the edges of each sleeve.  Turn the sleeves right side out. (#21-25)

Finish the edges of each sleeve by turning both fabrics in towards

each other and finishing them with le point a rabattre sous la main.

Congratulations, you'd just finished your sleeves!

Coming up in the Part Two of this tutorial: the body of the jacket!

Threaded Bliss

A 1770s Silk Muff

During the accessories conference at Colonial Williamsburg back in March, I was fortunate enough to be able to take a silk muff workshop led by Janea Whitacre, mistress of the trades of millinery and mantua-making at CW, and her very able and charming young apprentice, Miss Emma.  We had about three and a half hours to talk about the evolution of muff fashion throughout the 18th century, choose our fabric, pattern our muffs, make them, stuff them, and trim them.  Believe it or not, a number of the ladies were able to complete theirs!  I was about 3/4 of the way done by the end of the workshop, and carried my unfinished project home...where it has sat in its same bag in the same spot on the floor since I deposited it there when I got home.  At long last, I've finished it, though - just in time for winter festivities!

The Pattern: After explaining how the shape of muffs changed over the century, Janea gave us the measurements to use to create our desired shapes and sizes.  In the 1770s, muff were slightly more rectangular in shape, while by the 1780s they had become more square-looking.  I opted for a 1770s style, since that's the decade we re-enact the most (and I just personally prefer the way it looks to the later, more boxy style!).

Inspirations: As with hats, there are countless period images of muffs with all sorts of decorative embellishments, from embroidery to ribbon and floral trim to fur to printed portraits.  Like hats, muffs are a place where you can let your creativity run wild - just so long as you don't let it stray outside of period-accurate materials!  Karen's 18th Century Notebook page on muffs includes a very comprehensive listing of images of muffs and links to extant examples.

My own muff is based on one created by the CW milliners.  It was featured, with a matching cloak (so pretty!), in the conference fashion show, and Janea brought it with her as an inspiration to the workshop.  When I decided to change my original floral trim (keep reading for more on that), I went back to the pictures I had taken of Janea's piles and piles of gorgeous examples, and found this and wanted it!  :-)

Construction Details: Janea explained how muffs could be made in two different ways. One is as a single piece, with a silk exterior and silk lining, and the stuffing wedged between the two. The other is to make a separate linen "pillow" tube that, once stuffed, becomes the foundation over which any muff cover can be slipped. I think all but one or two of us in the workshop opted for the second construction method. Who doesn't want an endless number of muff options to switch out with each new outfit? :-)

Stuffing the linen muff "pillow," over which the silk cover is slipped.

The construction was thus very easy and logical: all you do is create a tube of linen which is stuffed with wool and sewn closed.  Then you create the cover by sewing channels at opposite ends of a rectangular (or square, if you prefer) piece of fabric and inserting ribbon into the channels to drawstring up the ends.  Add the trim, sew the rectangle into a tube, slip it over the "pillow," and you're done.

The finished muff tube "pillow" (left) and the trimmed cover (right), which is about

to be sewn into a tube that will be slipped over the stuffed linen pillow.

Originally, at the workshop, I had selected a very pretty floral ribbon trim and sewed it in diagonal lines so that it wound around my muff.  On second thought, when I picked the project up again out of the (dusty) bag, I decided I wanted to save that trim for something else, so I picked it all off and pulled out some ivory silk satin ribbon I had in my stash to box-pleat around the ends of the muff.  It's simple, but I really like the way it turned out.

The most fun part of the workshop was seeing how completely different everyone's muffs ended up being.  Val from Time Traveling in Costume also attended the workshop; be sure to check out her post about her own muff project.  She got a great group shot of us all displaying our muffs at the end of the day.  If anyone else was there and has posted pictures of her finished muff, I'd love to add you to this post!

The Fabric: A green shot ivory silk taffeta, trimmed in cream silk satin ribbon.  The inside pillow is made of a medium-weight linen, stuffed with wool from the sheep at Colonial Williamsburg.  It's quite cozy!

Finishing the Look: I'm in the process of making a new cloak, which will coordinate nicely with this muff.  Stay tuned for more once the weather turns cold enough to frolic in my new accessories!

Of Gowns and Calashes and Favorite Things

Our sincere apologies for disappearing for so long!  Is it really over a month since our last post?  Between heaps and piles of work, losing power for eight days in the pre-Halloween snow storm, and too-busy schedules, we haven't had time for anything lately!  At long last, we're back - with promises to make up for missed time and then some!  We have many exciting things to share with you over the next few weeks, so thank you for your patience during our absence and keep checking back now for frequent updates!  :-)

Ashley was in Williamsburg for a workshop and conference this past week, so I tagged along for the ride (who wouldn't take advantage of any excuse she could get to go there?!).  Although I spent 90% of my time in the city's various libraries doing research and other work, I made sure to take a few hours to enjoy the stunning autumn transformation of the historic area.  Of course, I had to make a stop (fine, I admit it - two stops...) at the Margaret Hunter shop to indulge in all the new gorgeous fashionable creations on display and to chat with the ladies about their current projects.

A close-up of the front of "Mrs Newton's Gown," which was reproduced 

from a portrait last year by the ladies of the shop.

Before Ashley headed off to her workshop on Friday, we ventured into the shop to find Journeywoman Mrs Warren discussing this reproduction of an uncut embroidered waistcoat.  She explained how a general pattern for the waistcoat fronts and pockets would be drawn first, then the front panels, the pocket flaps, and the buttons would be embroidered with the proper cutting allowance.  The tailor would then cut the pattern and make up the waistcoat to the specifications of his client.  It is rare to find uncut pieces like this, which makes it all the more fascinating to look at and to study its production process.

An uncut embroidered waistcoat.  You can see the two front panels, with

the row of small flowers running up the middle that would be made into

individual covered buttons.  At the very top edge, you can see a pocket, which

would also be cut and then applied to its proper place on one of the front pieces.

Also on display around the shop were the usual array of silk gowns, covered hats, cotton prints, and muffs.

One morning a couple of days ago, I found apprentice Sarah and Miss Emma hard at work on a new green taffeta calash.  Several of the other visitors in the shop expressed curiosity about the concept and the bonnet's purpose, so Emma brought out the massive "Spruce Sportsman" black calash she modeled at the March conference and explained how it worked.  It's always so much fun to watch peoples' faces when they hear about excessive, quirky fashion trends like that for the first time!

Emma demonstrates one calash for the guests,

while Sarah works on a smaller green one at the table.

Ashley's reports on her workshop and the conference will be coming soon, as well as some additional fall photos from around town.  Stay tuned!

Threaded Bliss

A Black Silk Bonnet,

1770-1790

The Pattern: Drafted by me, by trial and error, with multiple mock-ups until I got the shape of brim and volume of crown that I wanted.

The final mock-up of my pattern!

Inspirations: Although there are scores upon scores of prints, engravings, paintings, and textual descriptions representing a wide variety of bonnet styles from throughout the 18th century, only one extant example of an actual bonnet can be confidently dated to that period (as far as I'm aware).  This one, owned by Colonial Williamsburg (acc. no. 1993-335), has served as my primary point of reference for my project. 

The only extant bonnet that can be confidently dated to the 18th century.

It is owned by CW, acc. no. 1993-335.

Photo linked from Colonial Williamsburg's E-Museum.

It is made of black ribbed silk and features a doubled brim supported by baleen.  CW's description further says its "puffy, mushroom-shaped crown is pleated to the boned brim, adjusted with a ribbon drawstring at center back," that is it unlined, and that the ruffled trim and the bow are made of fabric and tacked in place at the point where the crown meets the brim.

My other primary reference for this project is George Stubbs's well-known painting of The Haymakers, dated 1785, which features a bonnet similar in style, though with a slightly larger crown and wider brim, and the latter appears to be lined in white (see the detail below).  Although this is clearly a working woman (however idealized, in her white accessories!), her bonnet could still be made of silk, but wool is another close possibility.

George Stubbs, The Haymakers (1785).

Image linked from the Tate Gallery.

The Haymakers, detail of the bonnet.  Note the white lining of the brim.

If you're interested in seeing more images of a variety of bonnet styles, be sure to check out Nicole's three fantastic posts on bonnets (one, two, three) on her blog, Diary of a Mantua Maker.  Karen's 18th Century Notebook page on bonnets also offers a list of images and further resources.

Construction Details: I have not examined the CW bonnet in person, and I freely admit to knowing next to nothing about millinery techniques in general (though I'd love to learn!), so my construction method was based on the details provided on the CW e-museum listing and on 18th century cap construction techniques.  Whether I've done it "the" period way, I don't know, but considering there's only one extant example to study, I figure it's anyone's best guess how these things were put together!  If any of you have done bonnets like this, I'd love to compare notes and hear how your assembly process differs from mine!

Side view of the bonnet.

First, I made up my brim out of a couple layers of cotton buckram and sewed a light-weight wire along the edge to help the brim maintain its shape.  The CW original uses baleen to achieve its shape, but the baleen substitute I used in my stays (ash splints) was just too heavy to use in the brim, so I adapted the buckram and wire method instead, which worked quite well.

I then covered the brim, top and underside, with silk and finished it along the inside edge.  The crown is unlined, as is the CW example, so I sewed a drawstring channel for the ribbon adjustment at the back and then finished the other edges of the crown before I whipped it onto the brim, just as I would do for a cap.

Front view, with the self-fabric decoration copied from the original.

Finally, I created self-fabric poofs and a big self-fabric bow at the front, based on the CW original, and voila!  A bonnet!

The Fabric: A beautiful Italian black silk taffeta that is the ideal weight for something like this - stiff enough to hold its shape well in the crown and brim, and well worth the "designer" price.  I found it on a mini shopping spree to the incomparable Banksville Fabrics over the summer.  Just wait till you see what Ashley walked out with...but that's something for an entirely separate post!  :-)

Finishing the Look: Although I started this bonnet before UTR and fully intended to have it done by then, I got tangled up in other projects and ended up putting it aside for months.  I picked it up again a few weeks ago to finish it and finally gave it its first airing this past weekend at our local event.  For this event, I gave it a "nicer" working-class look based off the Stubbs painting above, wearing it over a linen cap and paired with white linen accessories and a linen gown (which was supposed to be done in June for summer camp-wear, but didn't get finished until mid-July.  Hmm...do I sense a pattern here?!  More on that gown coming in the next Threaded Bliss post, so stay tuned!).

Pray forgive the weird way the shadows fall here - you can't really tell

where the bonnet brim ends and my face begins, but you get the general idea!

Photo taken during "1776: South Britain Comes Alive," 8 October 2011.

"1776: South Britain Comes Alive!" local event

This weekend, we of the 5th CT Regiment helped to promote local Revolutionary War history with the third annual "1776: South Britain Comes Alive" event, a fundraiser for the Southbury Historical Society.  The event took local residents and visitors on a horse-drawn wagon tour of the town's historic district.  Along the route, groups stopped to sample tidbits of town history, which included a drilling demonstration by members of our regiment, the re-enactment of an 18th-century style service in the 1825 church, costumed tours of several privately-owned and recently restored 18th century homes, a visit to our kitchen fly and camp, a demonstration of spinning techniques by a local artisan, 18th century ghost stories, and an open house in the museum of the Historical Society. 

Chatting under the kitchen fly during dinner, before the festivities began

(with prodigious admiration for the new wig, Mr. S!).

The evening weather was balmy and perfect for the walking crowds, and we enjoyed spending time chatting with the guests and responding to their eager and often thoughtful questions about 18th century life, both from the "history book" perspective and from the perspective of one who regularly re-enacts it.  It was a unique and fantastic opportunity for us all to share our passion for this period, and to teach those close to home about the very rich and valuable Revolutionary War history of our little corner of the former colony of Connecticut.

One of the house tours included a tavern scene that enacted the capture

of a British soldier, who spoke to the visitors about his views on the trouble

with the "traitor" colonists.  Unfortunately, none of our pictures of the Brit on his

(brilliant!) tirade came out, but here's Mr.S.. (the other one!) minding the bar during the scene.

After the event concluded, we reconvened as a group to enjoy each other's company for a bit longer, sampling all of the tasty 18th century goodies that remained from the evening and enjoying a round of songs and good cheer before bed.  Many thanks to those who hosted the events of the evening, for your very generous hospitality!

Letting our hair down, period style, for some...

...after-hours socializing in the Golden Dog, sampling all of the

leftover 18th-century treats.

(Re-)Making Royal Fashion History, Pt. 2

After reading our post yesterday about Butterick's new Kate Middleton-inspired wedding gown pattern (#B5731), our friend Laurie from Teacups in the Garden alerted us to two additional royal wedding gowns that have been commercially patterned.  The first is Grace Kelly's iconic 1956 gown for her wedding to Prince Rainier of Monaco.  The gown was designed by Helen Rose and made by the costume department at MGM, as a gift to the bride from her former studio.  It was reportedly made of 25 yards silk taffeta and almost 100 yards of silk tulle.  Valenciennes rose point lace decorated the bodice and sleeves, and the veil was trimmed with lovebirds in appliquéd lace and embellished with thousands of tiny seed pearls.

Grace Kelly's wedding gown.

Photo linked from fashionbride.wordpress.com.

Vogue has created a lovely Grace Kelly look-alike pattern (#V2979) that closely adheres to the details of the original and successfully captures its old time Hollywood glamour.  That this is a recent pattern release is unsurprising, considering the degree to which Kate Middleton's gown (and her overall sense of style) has been compared to Grace Kelly's.

Grace Kelly in her wedding gown (left), with the Vogue reproduction V2979 on the right.

Photo of Grace Kelly linked from Hollywooddame.com.

Vogue photo linked from Voguepatterns.mccall.com; follow the link to purchase the pattern.

The second pattern Laurie discovered is an old and (alas!) now out-of-print Burda pattern (#7940) for Princess Diana's wedding dress. I wish this was easier to find now because it would be such fun to try to recreate such a fairy tale gown, with the big poofy sleeves and all the lacy frills and bows.  This pattern seems to appear occasionally on ebay and etsy, so check those sites if you're looking for one.  If you'd like to read more about the original gown, visit our earlier post here.

Burda pattern envelope for Princess Diana's wedding dress.

Photo linked from a recent etsy listing.

A big thank you to Laurie for sending us these links and permitting us to share them with you!

And while we're still on the topic, just two final notes.  To complement your reproduction Kate Middleton wedding gown, a reproduction of the diamond Cartier tiara lent to her by the Queen is, of course, an absolute must (because who can resist a tiara?!). This is by far the closet reproduction I've been been able to find (and it's even affordable, too!): click here.  If you'd like to compare it to the original, check out the photos here.

And if you're interested in recreating Kate's sapphire blue Issa engagement dress to add to your royal wardrobe, a combination of Simplicity 2145 (quite obviously inspired by Kate's) and McCalls 5974 should do the trick.  Happy sewing and don't forget to let us see what you create!