Houppelande, 2015
My hopelessly cliched
must-have-list for medievalist garb, beginning with the
sideless surcote, eventually arrived at the "Houppelande"-
point. I just had to make that opulent and impractical gown,
and when my wardrobe began to be adequately filled with
practical basic stuff I gave myself leave to go for it. Then
there was of course the question of budget, but this too was
solved by finding a lightweight emerald green wool blend for a
very reasonable prize. Yes, it's a blend, but with the fabric
quantity needed for a houppelande one has to compromise.

When looking at period images my favorite
style became an early form of houppelande with long open sleeves
and a high shaped Disney-esque collar. The later collar style
falling on the shoulders would not be half as cool.
My initial idea was to edge collar and the sleeve with fur. Then
I began to fancy a silk lining in a contrasting color. Then I
wanted a combination of both, until I realized that this would
be totally inaccurate. If I interpreted the image sources
correct, most of the houppelandes with fur seemed to have a full
fur lining that turned on the outside on the edges, not just a
fur trim on the edges. Lining the sleeves with fur would have
been costly, not to mention making them terribly heavy with a
visible contrast to the unlined bodice and skirts. In theory I
could have cheated by lining the non-visible parts of the gown
with some heavy and fluffy wool, and the result might even have
looked very period, but it would also have been way too warm to
wear unless maybe outdoors in wintertime.

So, I had to forget the fur. It was a
bit dissapointing, but happily I had found a piece of rose
colored dupioni on the bargain bin. Okay, dupioni is totally
inaccurate too, but it was on sale and all. It was also so
lightweight that I could use it for just the visible parts and
leave the rest unlined without it showing much. Thursfield's
"The Medieval Tailor's Assistant" mentions colorful silk linings
for houppelandes, and I have seen written descriptions
elsewhere, but on the image sources it seems to be much less
common that a fur lining. Moreover on the pictures its sometimes
hard to tell whether a lining is fur or something else (except
in the most clearly hairy cases), and just to be sure I counted
all linings in shades of white, gray, black or brown suspected
fur. Happily I also found a rare green lining (in a pink dress,
too!) that I thought I could safely declare fabric. I also found
an Italian fresco from circa 1420 depicting Saint Ursula in a
white houppelande lined with red material.
Drafting
the pattern
In the pattern
drafting I once again followed mainly Thursfield. I began in
my pedantic manner by drafting a straight block from my basic
14th century pattern with a close neck and somewhat larger
armholes. I even made a waist-length mock up of this, mainly
to test the pattern for sleeves and collar.
I drafted a modern loose fitting sleeve with a low sleeve cap
to match the bodice block armhole. I widened the sleeves from
the elbow according to Thursfield's diagram. The width was
determined by my calculations of what I would get out of the
1m silk piece. While the sleeve was very simple, I still made
a mock up.

When trying it on I realized that
Thursfield's sleeve pattern that curved out near the elbow did
not look quite like the period images when on. On a closer look
most houppelande sleeves seemed to flare out right under arm. As
the mock up sleeves were also way too long it was very easy to
pin a large horizontal tuck on the upper arm. The sleeves looked
instantly more "right".
The shape of the sleeve opening still
bothered me, though. The curve at the bottom of the sleeve
opening, faithfully copied from Thursfield's diagram didn't fall
very gracefully. I experimented with shaping the sleeve sharply
triangular instead, which ended up looking a lot like Saint
Ursula's sleeve. The sleeve head shape might not be totally
period accurate, but looked decent.
My friend Hanna had begun her houppelande
before me, and I happened to be hanging around when she was
working on the collar, so I had the chance to help her to fit
the collar and copy the pattern. Like me she also has a small
head, so the collar pattern copied from Thursfield's diagram was
huge on her. While I did want an awesome tall collar there is a
point where it begins to look oversized.
When I got to drafting my own collar I shortened Hanna's pattern
at both top and bottom edge, and also took it in a bit at the
seams to fit my gown neckline. On the fitting the mock up collar
still felt too tall, and I made a further 1cm horizontal tuck. I
tried the mock up collar on with my velvet coif. The back of the
collar was still a bit problematic, it tended to wrinkle
whenever I moved my head and get caught in the coif pearls. I
happily came up with the solution of pinning a 1cm tuck on the
center back seam at the neck, which changed the angle of the
back pieces and made the collar top edge tilt more backwards.
I slit the bodice block pattern open at
regular intervals, pinned the front edge to the fabric edge and
then flared the pieces as much as the fabric width allowed.
Thursfield recommends this cut for men's gowns with waist
pleats, but for some reason women's gowns, including
houppelande, are flared only at the side seam. Following other
sources I agreed with Hanna that the underbust pleats on the
period images don't happen by flaring just the side seam.
Cynthia Virtue's "rotated
corner, circle plan houppelande" looked very interesting,
but a full circle dress would make me run out of material. I had
also at this point already seen Hanna's finished gown, which was
cut a lot narrower than a full circle, but was still huge, so I
was quite happy with my roughly 3/4 circle cut. As you can see
in the picture, the pieces were triangular, which saved a lot of
fabric.

The houppelande is supposed to be
overly long, but I was practical enough to cut in floor length
in the center front, slightly trailing at the sides and with a
tiny train at the back.
I had decided to leave the houppelande mostly unlined so it
wouldn't be too warm and heavy to wear over a woollen kirtle,
but I still wanted a light facing on the hem. First, it would
give a more finished look (and the illusion of a lined dress) to
the glimpses of the underside when I would carry the skirts on
my arm (with the train I would have to from time to time),
second, perhaps give the skirts some volume, and third, most
importantly protect the fine wool. I decided to use thin but
densely woven black linen for the facing. Black linen is of
course not a very authentic choice, but I had lots of it, and in
the lining it doesn't show that much.

Sewing
First I sewed center front and center back
seams. Then I carefully laid the back and front pieces on top
of the double wide linen and cut the facings following the
shape of the wool pieces. On the sides I had to do some
piecing. Then I basted the facings lightly on the gown pieces
and turned the top edge of the linen facings under. I fastened
it with light herringbone stitch. At the sides I basted the
facings about 10cm from the seam so that I could finish them
after closing the side seams.

Next
I lined the sleeves. Like in Jarno's
houppelande the lining didn't reach quite up to the
sleevecap, but only the lower part that would show when the
garment was on. Still, I had to do some piecing to get the
lining out of the piece of silk I had and still have some
left for the collar. I sewed the seam in both sleeve and
lining with machine, then pinned the lining on, fastened the
top edge with herringbone stitch similarly to the hem facing
and finally turned the edges under at the sleeve ends and
finished them by hand.
After cutting the collar lining there was still some scraps
of silk left, and I pieced them together for a front slit
facing. Some of houppelandes have a buttoning, others not,
following the Saint Ursula dress I decided to leave my
collar open.
I closed the shoulder seams,
adding supporting tapes to prevent stretching and neatened the
seam allowances. The was the time for the most interesting part
of the project, the collar.

A collar this
large needed some heavy interlining. At first I had planned to
use the heavy jute I'm familiar with, but then I got
introduced to felt that Hanna uses a lot in headdresses etc.
The stiff interlining felt I bought at the local fabric store
of course had nothing to do with wool, but hidden inside the
collar no one would know. I reasoned that in the period a real
wool felt might well have been used in interlining large
collars.

The collar got two layers of felt. I
cut the interlining pieces without seam allowances and joined
them by placing the edges side by side and pinning a linen bias
tape over the seam. Then I machine stitched over both edges of
the tape and added a further row of zig-zag in the middle to
really tie the pieces together.
After finishing the seams I pinned both
layers together on the final shape. I shortened the inner layer
a bit at the front edges and the outer layer at the top edge as
the collar curves outwards. Then I stitched them together around
the edges.
I cut the wool and
silk pieces in the collar on bias for a smoother fit, which is
possibly very inaccurate. I checked that the pieces still
matched the felt base and then closed the seams and pinned and
basted the wool top layer on. Just to be sure I also stitched
the wool down at the seamlines.

Then I sewed the collar on the
neckline from the wool seam allowances only. I tried it on, and
as the collar seemed okay I moved on to finishing it. I turned
the wool seam allowances over the top edge and basted them on
the felt interlining by hand. On the neck I treated the seam
allowances similarly. Usually I still further reinforce pieces
interlined this way with a hand stitching through all layers in
the edges, but now my interlining was so heavy I thought it
would hold shape without the edge-stitching.
For the last thing I added the silk lining.
I sewed it first on the neck, then smoothed it over the collar
and pinned, and then turned the edges under and sewed them on.

I had already at the planning stage
been a little anxious about the silk lining in the high collar,
as it would be exposed to sweat and make up on the neck and face
area. On some images, for example the Saint Ursula fresco, there
is a hint of another white collar under the houppelande collar.
I've seen just a few, but based on these I thought that some
sort washable protecting layer between skin and gown collar
might just be plausible. I have no idea whether the collar in
the images is attached to a shift or some kind of early form of
partlet or something else, but I decided to make it just a
basted-on separate piece.
I used the most sheer
linen in my stash to get the same look as on the St Ursula
fresco. I cut the removable collar in one piece following the
shape of the collar pieces, again in bias so it would mold to
the curves of the shaped collar. I left ample fitting
allowance on the edges, and smoothed it carefully inside the
collar. The sheer, loosely woven linen took the shape very
easily.

I
carefully basted a cotton tape to follow the neckline seam
and then sewed one edge of the tape on the linen with small
dense hand stitch. Then I cut off the extra seam allowance
and folded the tape in two, and stitched the other edge. As
the lower edge of the removable collar was thus finished I
basted it on the gown neck, smoothed it to follow the collar
shape again, and basted a supporting thread to mark the
final top edge. Following the St Ursula fresco I left the
removable collar a bit smaller than the gown collar to show
the beautiful silk. Then I hemmed the top edge following the
basted thread, carefully following that the piece kept its
shape with the outer edge stretched and curving out. For the
last thing I evened and hemmed the front edges.
The
hemming stiffened and shaped the flimsy material to some
extent, but to make sure the collar wouldn't collapse I
starched it to shape. In the end the practical precaution of
a separate washable collar actually looks kinda nice, and
does its job.
As mentioned above, at first I had planned to wear the
collar open, but in the end it turned out so heavy that it
looked nicer closed at the base. Thus I added a single pair
of hook and eye on the top of the front slit.

With the collar on the houppelande was
already not far from ready to wear. I closed the side seams,
finished the hem facing at the sides and then sewed the
sleeves on. I flat felled the armhole by hand. Then I put
the gown on the dummy to check the hemline shape. I adjusted
it a bit at the side-back and evened the length at the
sides, which were a bit asymmetrical as the pieces been cut
separately. At this point I also stopped worrying about the
hem not being a full circle for good, as it was already huge
as it was. As you can see at the picture, it took up most of
my living room floor.
I pressed the wool edge to turn narrowly inside, and then
pinned the linen facing on the top. Then I stitched the
layers together by hand.
Of course the Houppelande also required a fancy massive belt with
some bling. More about making it can be found here. The headdress is my ancient velvet caul spiked
up with a matching padded roll. It's huge but I rather like the
style.

Conclusion
As I had hoped, the
Houppelande became truly grand and opulent at least in the sense
that with the hanging sleeves and the train its a completely
impractical garment. Even in a quite light material it's heavy,
especially when you fold all that fabric of the skirts on your
arm to keep it from ground on foul weather. A lady in waiting
would truly come in handy. Well, it's not an every day dress,
and I've meant it to be worn mainly at the grander SCA court
occasions with a royal presence.
While I'm mostly happy with the Houppelande, unfortunately the
lightness of the material shows. While it drapes gracefully it
does lack a little something in volume, and thus looks different
from period examples, veering more towards fairy tale land. I'm
aware of this even thought the material choice was a conscious
one. But, then again, it's at least wearable, and hem facing
helps a bit to give it some fullness and shape.