17th Century Women's Dress Patterns

I've got to recommend this book, it's becoming my bible. It's a kind of follow on to the Janet Arnold series of books, but has built on those publications and has become something much better.

The book sets out to show several actual extant garments in the V&A Museum in much closer detail than you could ever see should you go and look at them in the cases. Each garment is described and shown in detail with photographs. In many cases there is an attached portrait from the period showing the garment or something very similar being worn. Following on you get a detailed pattern, cutting out guide and step by step illustrated guide to the making of the item in question. If it was decorated, you get close ups of the embroidery or lace and more details of the stitches used or a pattern of the lace edging or insert. A few examples also have been x-rayed to show internal construction detail, such as boning on the silk bodice on the front cover.

The clothes are all from the approximate date range 1600-1630, so the styles are early for our period, but you can take a lot from this book, especially from the introduction which shows the typical tools used and all the stitches needed for making the garments. They range from waistcoats and bodices through to jackets, a mantle, shift, caps and accessories. There are even patterns for embroidered gloves.

If you are interested in how clothes were made in the 17th century, you really need to see this book. The best part is that this is book 1.  Men's patterns coming soon? I hope so.

Coifs and Cross Cloths

Unless you were rich and had someone to dress your hair fashionably, as a woman in the 1640s it was normal to cover your head, possibly with a hat but almost always with linen, even if you wore a hat on top. There were probably thousands of ways to achieve this, from a simple knotted piece of cloth to a lace edged cap, in fact images show a variety of weird and wonderful concoctions, although surviving examples are few and far between, especially from this period. Several earlier decorated coifs survive in museums but as we get close to the 1640s there aren’t as many, possibly because embroidery became less fashionable and a plain cap could be recycled more easily. Even if it was lace edged you could remove that and you were left with a useful rag. This picture, Visiting Grandmother by the le Nain brothers has a row of four female heads of varying ages wearing different coverings and illustrates perfectly how different fashions would have been worn simultaneously. The girl left, has a shaped coif, possibly over a flappy-eared coif, Grandmother has an old-fashioned fitted coif showing its pointed flaps by her ears but seems to be wearing a cap over her coif, the baby is wearing a close-fitting coif, tied on and the mother, right, is wearing a cap of the kind which is typically 1640s 

However, comparing contemporary images with what survives in museums we can produce at least a few reasonably accurate reproductions. This one for example is in the costume collection at the Museum of Manchester. Most of the actual examples like this one are made from a flat piece of linen cut to a recognisable shape, hemmed and fitted with a drawstring along one edge. The side edges would be whipped together and hey presto you have a coif to cover your head. The new book on Women’s Dress Patterns from the V&A has a particularly nice example from just before our period. However this now presents a few problems, there are flappy bits around your ears that seem a bit odd, the coif can tend to slip around and not be particularly comfortable and what do you do with the strings?

Perhaps part of the answer comes when you notice that many coifs are exhibited with triangular forehead cloths that are obviously embroidered to match. Also several coifs come up in wills and inventories in connection with cloths or “crosse cloths”. It’s obvious that these cloths were worn somehow in conjunction with the coif and that in just wearing the coif without the crossecloth you are missing something. Extreme Costuming has an interesting article about fitting a coif and forehead cloth that is very interesting, if a bit too early for 1640s but to summarise it seems that the triangular cloth can be secured using the tapes around a bun (if you have enough hair). That’s what the strings are for and that the coif will then sit comfortably on top without slipping. It still doesn’t solve the flappy ears, but if you look at pictures from the period, they all had that problem! It doesn’t help if you don’t have enough hair to make a bun at the back of your head either!

Various images seem to show that the cloth could be worn under or over the coif and also with the point facing forwards and backwards. Maybe there was some significance to the different orientations, perhaps different fashions. Sadly we just don’t know. In fact the fashion suggestion is not too far fetched. A theory has been advanced that he coif was such a small easily made item that it could have been remade several times, maybe to copy some rich lady that may have passed through from London. Maybe this explains why there are so many different shapes and patterns in the surviving pictures.

So, we have one actual coif, even if it’s a bit early that can be worn for 1640s, it would be perfect for the older, less fashionable woman. There are more contemporary styles, as I’ve mentioned before. It does seem that a more shaped cap was beginning to come in by the 1640s. There is a nice example in the V&A of such a cap and a portrait of Hester Tradescant wearing one from 1645. I took the photo on the right during a visit to the museum. The cap is dated  1600-25 but does look later.

Other easily made versions include this Dutch example from 1650s, which could be constructed from a rectangular piece of linen hemmed with a drawstring at the back. Pull the drawstring tight and you have a covering that will sit nicely on your head with a turn back front to frame your face, possibly pinned to your hair.

I did say that there were some weird examples. We still don't know what this woman is wearing on her head, or why. It's not the only one in the woodcuts either!

The Shirt off Your Back (part two)

In the seventeenth century, shirts were made of unbleached linen, the fabric varying from coarse canvas to fine weave, and ranged from brown to off white in colour, although unbleached linen could take on a grey or even greenish tinge. The finest shirts could be almost white, the fabric was generally bleached by being left out in the sun, but the white of the 1640s was nowhere as bright as the 21st century brilliant white achieved by modern detergents and their additives that counteract the natural yellowing of fabrics that have been worn for a while. The haymaker on the right shows that it was the fashion to take off your coat and work in your shirt if it was a hot day. Notice the detail on his collar and neck opening.

They were cut square and long, with front and back usually made of a single piece of fabric, gathered into a narrow neckband. Gathers can be simple for a plain shirt or of extremely fine cartridge pleating for a high status one. The image on the left courtesy of Manchester Gallery of Costume is a surviving shirt from our period. It's described in more detail in another post below.

As you can see, they were generally long enough to reach mid thigh or even knee length. This rather saucy image from A Letter To Mr Marriot 1652 (Mr Mariott was a famous lawyer and notorious glutton of the time) shows the length of the shirt because his breeches are around his ankles. The side seams would be left open for about 12 inches to allow the shirt to fit comfortably down the legs when worn under a pair breeches.

The sleeves would also be cut square and gathered to a narrow cuff, which may be secured by ties, small buttons or a t-bar (like a fabric cuff link) if it's posh. The sleeve is then sewn square onto the side of the shirt with gussets under the arms to provide some ease when you put it on over your head. There should also be smaller triangular gussets where the collar meets the shoulder seam, to give extra strength and prevent tearing. Photos of a shirt made by Tricia Webb.

At the front there should be a simple straight hemmed front opening large enough to let you put it on over your head. This opening was secured by a pair of ties, sewn to the collar or passing through a single sewn eyelet on each side at the neck.

 Here is a nice repro pair of posh ties by Gina B

The shirt as such would not have any more than a small standing collar of perhaps an inch and a half wide. To this a falling band may be tacked on. Shirts were not generally made with integral collars in our period. For common soldiers a small band can be used, just large enough to cover the standing collar on the coat. There are no images showing soldiers wearing knotted cloths or tied stocks for our period. A small plain collar seems to have been the fashion for just about everyone.

This is one I made earlier, with a posh vicar's collar attached:

Here are a set of sleeves made up for a copy of a blackwork embroidery shirt in the Warwickshire Museum. Note the construction and the gussets. The picture comes from a blog that tells the story of how it was made. Well worth a look.

Smocks (not shifts)

The basic item of underclothing for a woman in the seventeenth century the smock was a long T-shaped garment, made of linen with sleeves and reached down to below the knees. As with most linen garments of our period, the only surviving examples are of the best quality cloth and are highly embroidered. However, it’s probably safe to assume that the pattern was basically the same for everyone. The purpose was probably the same too, to protect the outergarments that would tend not to be washed as often from body oils and perspiration. Picture left from A Juniper Lecture by John Taylor 1635.

The extant smocks from the first third of the seventeenth century mostly have a standing collar, a single slit neck opening and long full sleeves. Sadly there are none exactly datable to the 1640s, but these examples are a good guide to what was worn.  This one in the V&A, picture from Drea Leed of Elizabethan Costuming is a nice one dated 1630 with a standard pattern and embroidered over the upper body. Much like a man’s shirt, they would be cut from a standard width of linen, anything from 30 to 36 inches wide. There is usually, like this example, a square gusset under the arms, but unlike a shirt there are either long triangular gores inserted in the sides or a looser cut to make the garment fuller and as such easier to walk around in. The V&A example also has a gusset inserted either side of the collar to provide strength.

 A few really high status smocks have lower necklines that are gathered and tightly stitched onto a narrow neck band (not with a drawstring). This clears the neckline for an off the shoulder look, but these are really ornate with acres of fabric requiring such finely detailed needlework that they should be only considered the preserve of someone of serious wealth, not a common serving girl or army follower. All the museum examples have lines of embroidery, very similar to those on surviving men’s shirts which is no surprise really as both garments, in fact anything made of linen, was considered women’s work. This image, from the Bath Museum of Costume, also photographed by Drea shows a woman's smock from 1610, and a man's shirt from the late 1500s. The smock is on the right. Below is a detail of the decoration.

Smocks were worn both day and night,high class people may have had a separate night smock to change into, but it can be safely assumed that most common folk slept in the smock they wore during the day.

Detail from Come Buy A Mousetrap. Pamphlet by Humphrey Crouch 1647

Picture on the right shows a plain (in the sense of undecorated) reproduction smock from Angela of Peggy's Necessities.

Startuppes

Following a discussion that started over a picture from a 1640s publication showing a ballad seller, I asked a few experts their opinion of long shoes or startups that had no ties. Several images have appeared to suggest that this may have been the norm for agricultural workers and as such for any soldiers who may have come from the fields and worn their own shoes.

The informed opinion is that perhaps there were a number of this kind of shoe around but that it was not the norm as to wear something like this just for walking (rather than riding) would quickly prove very uncomfortable, and as such would not be at all practical for farm work or soldiery.

In fact the discussion threw up this quote from a poem published before our period but none the less informative:

‘A payre of startuppes had he on his feet,that laced were to the small of the legge,

Homely they were and mete,and in there soles fulle many a woden pegge’

From The Debate Between Pride and Lowliness, published in 1577.

This guy from Thirty and Two Extremes of These Times, published in 1647 appears to have fastenings on his boots and a nice coat over what looks like a doublet, though why the illustrator has drawn his left hand the wrong way round, I have no idea!

Knitted Hats in Copenhagen

Usually known for:

a. The Little Mermaid
b. the Tuborg Brewery
c. The Tivoli Garden,

Copenhagen is also home to a rather special museum, the Danish Nationalmuseet. In one of the galleries there is a selection of 17th century knitwear. The sign indicated that these items came from a excavations in Copenhagen in 1900. Two items from this collection have caught my eye. They seem to be almost untouched examples of 17th century brimmed monmouth caps, the only example of which was originally thought to be in a museum in Russia and to have belonged to Peter the Great. Have a look and see what you think. It is thought that these hats were exported to Europe from 17th century England, so they just might be contemporary for 1640s Civil War England. There's much more in the case, including gloves and mittens, but I'm hoping to hear from the museum first before I add any pictures. Big thanks to Kate for letting me use her pictures.

Here's a description from Poul Grinder Hansen who works in the museum:
The hat in question is on display in our renaissance exhibition together with a number of similar hats, gloves and stockings, all of them finds from the old moats which once encircled Copenhagen.  I know of nine such hats from Copenhagen, five of which are in the National Museum. They are described like this in an exhibitions catalogue from 1988 “Christian IV and Europe”, cat. 848: The hats are of high quality knitting techniques. Knit from above in one piece with the brim, which is double knit and cast off at the edge. Originally the hats have been fulled so that they resembled felt, and perhaps they were dyed.

Sally Pointer makes reproductions and sells the patterns for making these hats on her website.

Could the ballad seller on the right be wearing one of these hats? Who knows? It's certainly possible.

Shirt in the Manchester City Galleries of Costume

There aren't many shirts left in existence from our period, let alone relatively basic ones, but this is an exception. It's kept in the Galleries of Costume in Manchester. Not sure how it survived, but reading the description the owner who brought it to the museum didn't know what they had! Stuart Peachey has published a pattern based on this shirt in his book "Common Soldier's Clothing of the Civil Wars". It shows how a shirt could be cut from a standard 10 foot length of linen.

This is the description from the Museum:

"Long full shirt in white linen. Cut in a T-shape: 2 large panels with side seams; separate sleeves set into the body and forming small underarm gussets. Sleeves and body drawn into bands at cuffs and neck with very fine, close smocking. Very fine French knot embroidery worked along upper shoulder seams. Openings at cf, side vents and cuffs, all edged with narrow bobbin lace (distressed). End of each opening marked by a knot-motif in plaited applique braid. Other seams very finely double over-stitched. Falling-collar attached at neck of fine Flemish (or Northern European) bobbin lace (4 inches deep) with shallow scallops at edge and a close formal geometric design. Embroidery is of a higher quality than the lace, and body of shirt almost certainly earlier, perhaps mid 16th century, with later lace collar added.

Purchased at auction in 1995 with 50% aid from V&A/MLA purchase fund. The vendor brought a pair of stays to be valued for sale, and this shirt was used as wrapping or a cover which is how it had survived."

Thanks to the Manchester City Galleries for permission to reproduce this image.