
Fur trimmed
winter gown, 2015
While normal, sane people usually begin their SCA hobby with a
t-shaped tunic, I was determined to go for the fancy stuff at
once. I did manage to put together a
fairly decent 15th century doublet and a pair of
not-so-perfect joined hose, but they soon proved to be
too warm to wear on summer months or indoors at other times of
the year. So, I came to my senses and abandoned my idea of
making a heavy wool gown to wear with the doublet and hose,
going for a light tabard instead.
The doublet and hose were followed by several more practical
tunics and short hose, but of course I still dreamed of the
fancy fur-trimmed gown (I had already bought the fabric, too).
At some point Jarno began to play a sidedrum for SCA fighters at
the events, which can be cold at wintertime and a cloak is not
very practical while playing. Perhaps the time for the wool gown
had finally come, and it would actually get worn, even if only
once or twice a year.

Ghent Altarpiece,
detail.
Jan van Eyck, finished 1432
The gown I had had in mind all along was dated at mid 15th
century, and like most of my medieval garments is featured in
Thursfield's “The medieval tailor's assistant” with a pattern
and instructions. Period artwork also got a lot more rich,
plentiful and detailed during 15th century, and this type of
garment shows up a lot on contemporary illustrations. At first
I planned to make slashed sleeves like shown in the book,
which would reveal the slashed doublet sleeves and the linen
shirt pillowing between the latches, but then I realized that
while fancy the slashed sleeves would let the cold wind in,
and this was to become a outdoor garment now. The period
illustrations also show more regular sleeves than slashed
ones, so there is no need to stick to them.
The thick wool
fabric I had was excellent for a warm outdoor garment. For the
trimmings I had found an old fur coat of mink (here at Couture
Mayah we use only recycled fur for both budget and ethical
reasons), which looked beautiful with the rust red wool.

I drafted the pattern by Thursfields instructions, copying the
doublet bodice pattern to waist level, widening it to a square
block and lowering the armhole on the underarm. The sleeve was
also based on the doublet sleeve with the puff, heavily widened
and raised at the sleevehead. I made a quick mock up of the
short bodice and the sleeve, noticed that the sleeve was still
too small to fit over the doublet puff and enlarged the pattern
a bit more. The second sleeve mock up looked fine, and I marked
the pleating and balance marks on it.

Still following Thursfield I drafted four slanted slashing lines
from shoulder to waist towards center front and back. Thursfield
advices adding 6-10cm to wait at each slash, I went for 6cm for
the simple reason that my fabric width would not allow more if I
was to cut front and back side by side. The finished hem width
ended up being about 340cm. The gown length was also determined
by how much material I had left after cutting the sleeves.
Usually I buy a lot of extra material (too much, in fact), but
now I had not realized how large a pattern piece the sleeve
would actually be.

After cutting
the pieces I marked the pattern slash lines for the pleating
and the waistline by basting.
The gown
itself was not complicated to put together, but the heavy
fabric and the fur trim needed some reinforcing details. I had
at first though that the heavy material could well do without
a lining, but when I began to think of all the cotton tape I
was going to put inside of it I realized that a lining would
be very handy in hiding them neatly. A lining would give the
garment a nice finished look too, and the underside might peek
from the side vents.
The ideal lining would perhaps have been a fluffy wool
mimicking a fur lining, but then the gown would have become
way too warm and cumbersome. Instead I happened to have a lot
of fine black linen, so I decided to use that instead. Black
linen is not, of course, strictly period, but it looks neat
and doesn't make the gown too thick. Again, heavier lining
would give the gown a more period look and fatten out the
pleats, but it would be too warm and also take up quite much
storage room. So, I chose linen. The sleeves I left unlined as
their inside would not show.
I began by basting narrow cotton tapes at the almost bias cut
center back seam. At the front I turned the edges with sewing
a 2cm wide cotton tape on them, hand sewing the other edge on
the wool. Of course I should have used linen tape but I had
cotton tape at home. At the neckline I basted an interlining
piece of heavy linen, a bit wider than the fur edging on top
of it would be. The linen was cut on the opposite direction
than the wool, so that it would have straight grain on the
bias edge of the v-shaped back neckline. At the top of the
center back seam I basted the interlining pieces after closing
the seam to cross it.
To prevent the already old fur from tearing under pressure, I
reinforced the neckline still more by sewing a narrow tape on
the edge and wider ones over the shoulder seams and to the top
of the center back seam. I stitched them on by machine, as the
lining would mercifully hide them. The shoulder seam also got
its supporting cotton tape as did the shoulder part of the
armhole. Before continuing with other seams it was, however, a
fine opportunity to sew the fur edging on the neckline while
it could still be laid flat.
I had taken
the coat to pieces and now began to cut and assemble strips
for the edging. I had planned a 5mm seam allowance for sewing
the edging on the top side of the garment and 1-1,5cm for
turning the other edge of the fur strip over the fabric edge.
I cut the neck edging 4cm wide (plus the allowances) and the
edging for sleeve ends 5cm wide. I studied the period
paintings trying to get some idea on what direction the pile
of the fur would run. On a few examples it seemed to me that
on the neckline it would run from the center front towards the
sides, which seemed logical, as if you would continue it over
the shoulder and down the back neckline it would meet in a
nice chevron v at the center back. On the sleeve ends I cut
the pile to run around the wrist.
I shaped the fur strips to match the neckline shape with the
help of a paper pattern as I had done in my sleeveless
surcote. I joined the pieces and made darts in them with
loose zig zag and then pulling the seam apart to that the
edges settled side by side. In the plush mink these home made
seams can be detected on the fur side by some irregularity in
the smooth surface of the pile, but as I'm not a furrier I can
live with that. On the afterthought I could perhaps have
rather compromised on the pile direction on some places to
reduce the number of joining seams/darts, but I'll consider it
again on the next fur project.

I first machine sewed the fur edging on the top side of the
garment with a very narrow seam allowance, then turned the other
edge over the fabric edge and sewed it down by hand. At the
front edges I sewed the ends of the supporting cotton tape over
the fur seam allowance.

When the
neckline edging was finished I closed the side seams and
reinforced the top of the side vent with a band to protect the
fur in case it would get under strain.

Then I sewed on the sleeves. Thanks to the mock up an-d the
sleeve head pleats being marked in the pattern and the fabric it
was an unusually smooth procedure. I decided to try to turn the
seam allowance towards the bodice rather than the sleeve so that
the sleeve seam would settle right next to the doublet puff on
shoulder and not be hindered by thick seam allowances. On the
underarm this also widened the armhole a bit, which helped to
drag the sleeves over the stiff doublet puff when putting the
gown on. This way I could also hide the seam allowances too
under the lining. I sewed then on the shoulder on the cotton
tape that was in turn hand sewn to the bodice, and on the
underarm to the bodice.

Thursfield tells you to first finish the gown and then form the
pleats on the waist and secure them on the stay band. It makes
sense in a way, but there is still this small problem of whether
the hem can be evened before at least fitting the pleats, as
they are not hanging straight and may thus move the hemline from
where it would freely fall. I bet no one would be very happy
about making over the fur edging (or even parts of it) if the
hemline turned out uneven in the end. On the other hand, it
would be so much easier to edge while it could still be laid
flat, without the pleats. So, I thought the safest course would
be to sew on the lining on the top part of the gown down to
waistline so that I could at least try to pin the pleats, and
then see how it would affect the hem.
I closed the center back, shoulder and side seams of the lining
and then began to pin it on the gown, beginning on the shoulders
and front edges. Then I sewed it by hand on top of the fur edge
on the neckline and on the armhole. When I began to sew the
lining on the front edges, however, I noticed that no matter how
carefully I had thought I had cut the lining the other front
piece still did not quite match. Happily I had left a generous
allowance on the front edges, which was just enough when I
smoothed the lining to go as crooked as it wanted to go.

Next I began to baste the lining on the gown both under and over
the waistline for trying out the pleating. On the front I had no
problems, but on the back my lining proved again unwieldy and in
the end just plain too narrow. At last I had to give up and once
again admit that lining large pieces including bias neatly is
nothing to be done hastily or with methods of bag-lining.
I ripped the
center back seam on the lining open and began smoothing it
over the wool. I sewed the other edge by hand on the wool seam
allowances, then smoothed the other side and turned and pinned
and sewed it on top of the other edge. At the bottom of the
seam I of course left the lining still open for the edging.
The seam allowances were just wide enough for the new
seamline. This was actually not that hard to fix, and in the
end it's probably for the good that the bias-cut seams stick
together.

Next we come to the part number two where I differed from
Thursfield's methods. She advices to sew the pleats on a wide
band on the waistline, which itself seems very sensible, but
then she tells you to cut this band 10-15cm longer that the
wearer's waist circumference. I reasoned that the extra must be
meant for the ease you must leave on the sides (as the pleating
is focused on center front and center back), but it still sounds
very generous allowance to me. If you make the band sturdy, the
extra on the sides will look bulky under a belt. According to
period paintings, this style was worn very tightly belted,
almost giving a hourglass line in some examples. Of course you
don't have to make it so heavy (the strip in the book picture
does not look very heavy), but I like things sturdy and durable
and supporting the heavy skirts. So, my solution, be it correct
or not, was to try out the theory of a single tight and sturdy
waistband. I could always take the pleats apart if it would a
prove catastrophic one.
I cut the waistband of a sturdy linen, making it just a few
centimeters longer than the waist circumference measured over
the doublet. I sewed it into a three-laeyered band and sewed
hooks and eyes on the ends. Then I put it on Jarno and marked
where the side seams should fall. Then I pinned the gown on the
band on the front edges, sides and center back, and began
pinning the pleats.

I realized pretty soon that the basted pattern enlarging lines
were of little use as pleating guides, and the pleats looked
just better when I just pinned them to where they roughly looked
right. I pinned the front and back on the left side, leaving
some extra allowance on the sides. Then I took the gown off
Jarno and basted the pleats, using different thread for pleat
ridges to keep on track. Then I transferred these markings on
the right side, pinned them again in the waistband and put the
gown back on Jarno.
Like I had expected, the hemline had to be evened a bit, but not
much. The length, dictated by the amount of material I had to
use was also okay. At this point I perhaps should have let the
gown hang for a little longer for the hem to really show where
it was wont to stretch, but unfortunately I was determined that
Jarno would wear it in a few days on a 12th day event, and the
weather forecast promised that he would need it, too. Usually I
nowadays try to avoid finishing anything on the last minute and
rather wearing something else, as rushing often leads to
shortcuts that make the final thing less than perfect – and it'
so boring to fix it later. This time, though, I calculates the
deadline being tight but still realistic, so I pressed on. So, I
quickly copied the evened hem shape on paper to get a pattern
for shaping the fur edging.

I had originally planned to make the hem edging a bit wider than
the others, but when I had noticed how the sleeve end edgings
that looked narrow on paper pattern looked far more fluffy in
fur I decided the same 5cm plus allowances would do well for the
hem. On the hem I cut the pile to run from the center towards
the sides and on the side vents downwards so that they met on
the corners on the nice chevron v. The center back where the
pile starts away from the seam on both sides is not very pretty
but happily mostly disappears among the folds. I used the
original hem fold of the fur coat for the top of the side vent
edgings so that it turns easily under.

I sewed the fur on the hem on a hurry, which unfortunately shows
in some places. Though the wool is sturdy, an interlining layer
under the edging would not have hurt, as the fur was hard to get
to settle evenly with a sewing machine. Of course it would have
probably went all smoothly by hand, but that would have been so
hard and taken so long... So, in the end the fabric wrinkled in
places. Still I stubbornly pushed on, convinced that if this
long planned gown would not be finished for this event it might
perhaps never get finished at all.
After getting the top edge of the fur on the hem all around
things began to look a bit brighter. Sure, it was not perfect,
but not absolutely terrible either, and while hand sewing the
other edge would take some time it was at least less
frustrating. After securing the other edge I pinned the lining
on and went around the hem again, sewing it on. The lining
tidies things up nicely, and the underside on the hem looks even
neater than the outer side with the wrinkles.

Then there was the waistband and the pleats. Like I had
predicted, the tight deadline led to shortcuts: I decided to
machine sew the pleats down. I mean, it would not show on the
outside! And even on the inside black machine stitch on black
waistband would be relatively inconspicuous. So, I pinned the
pleats according to my basted marking and sewed them down one by
one, trying to keep them symmetrical.
On the picture on Thursfield's book only the bottoms of the
pleats are sewn down, which is probably enough if the gown is
thick enough, but on my lighter version I decided to sew the
pleats to turn in the right direction. Jarno does not have a
valet to dress him, and I'm not always around either to arrange
the pleats carefully under the belt when dressing up.

I added a few pairs of hooks and eyes to close the front edges,
and then the gown was happily finished, even at the night before
the event. Like I stated earlier, I try to avoid last minute
sewing, but now I remembered how rewarding it can be to get
something finished just in time and wear it brand new (well,
Jarno wore it, but I could still watch it). And it really was
just what was needed on a very cold day. I was also happy to
discover that perhaps I have learned some rudimentary things
about working with fur, as it didn't feel so desperate and
exhausting this time on the whole, and also I had apparently
learned to cut it more carefully as all the flat was not covered
in extra hair.

So, in the end I'm mainly happy that I at last got this garment
done and the materials got some use rather than gathering dust.
It also turned out rather decent looking if you look ever the
hem wrinkles. The skirts are not as wide with heavy stiff folds
as in some paintings on noble and fashionable lords, but on the
other hand a wider hem would have demanded more material, been
more costly and probably not very practical. The fur edging does
help the hem to stick out a little, though. The pleats also look
a bit skimpy compared to a wool or fur lined gown, but at least
it takes up less storage room. I also noticed that the waist
tends to ride up on move over the belt, but this is a minor
thing. But the sleeves I really like, they ended up just right.
Practical is
actually something that this garment was not primarily planned
to be, but turned out to be in the end. It's much more
practical outerwear than a cloak. It looks best over the
doublet, which gives the sleeves their proper shape, but can
be worn without it too for more relaxed wear. And it surely
doesn't hurt that it looks very rich with all that fur.