The original vision (well, a simpler version thereof). V&A, acc. no. T.112-1972 |
Although I haven't dipped my toe into anything like this before, I do know that there are a number of sources for needlework patterns that were used in the late sixteenth/early seventeenth century--there are even some collections that were printed in that time, and reproduced today, conveniently enough. So, I wasn't really concerned about that; I was more worried about how to scale a counted pattern to be sure it would fit on, say, a sleeve cuff of X inches. And then I started frelling about which specific patterns would be used on an Englishman's clothes of the time. And then I started frelling in circles; so, as any mature adult would do in these circumstances, I whined about it on Facebook. Happily for me, the doyenne of blackwork took note of and pity upon my haplessness, and talked me through some of my thoughts (and also unconsciously triggered by association my memory that oh, yes, actually, I do own Patterns of Fashion 4 now). The takeaway of most immediate significance, however, was the fact that this simple collar-and-cuffs, counted work / geometric, monochrome embroidery was not actually the fashion any more by Elizabethan times, based on the extant shirts.
Capt. Thomas Lee, 1594; an extreme example. (Tate Britain acc no. T03028) |
A much simpler smock (albeit a woman's, but there's not a huge stylistic difference between the genders). Museum of London, acc. no. A21968, 1600-1620 |
The good news is, free embroidery should be a lot easier to fit to the spaces I want to embroider. Cut out the shirt pieces, lay them out, design the vine to be vinous in the space allotted, and Bjorn Stronginthearm's your uncle. And moreover, it will be perfectly in keeping with the aesthetic of the age to be as whimsical as I like in choosing the animals or vegetables to go inside the vines.
All of that being said, I don't intend to leap into action immediately; the priorities previously stated are still in place (i.e., "let's make sure his pants don't fall down"). Ideally, I'd still like a smaller scale project to cut my teeth on, but the Elizabethans didn't appear to be into embroidering hankies or anything like that (lace trimmed hankies, yes; embroidered, no). There is an extant sampler from 1598, but honestly, I'm not so over-burdened with free time that I hadn't rather do something that could serve a practical purpose. (Napkins? I don't see any evidence that those were decorated in this fashion, but on the other hand, fiat experimentum in corpore vili.)
* "Blackwork" isn't always black. A lot of it was, which is I guess why it got labeled that in the modern idiom; but the Elizabethans were perfectly happy to do the same work in blue, or red, or pink.
** Nightcaps and nightshirts were not necessarily worn to sleep in, the way clothing with that label is today. They were garments you wore informally at home (often at the end of the day); I think it's not wrong to relate them to the dressing gown of "jazz-colored peacocks" that Lord Peter Wimsey receives morning or late-evening unexpected guests in.
There is at least one monochrome handkerchief, so there's certainly justification for such a project for the "small scale, something to work on but not a sampler" concept. There, I'm hepin
ReplyDeleteOh hey! http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O85421/handkerchief-unknown/
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