A Little Vindication Goes A Long Way

me, Thursday night

It has not been an agreeable week; and as predicted in last week's update, the most I have been able to handle was making up the cloth buttons for a late period jerkin my ronin-sister made for my dashing consort the other year (which, mind you, is a perfectly useful task I wanted to clear off the plate; it's just maybe not in the top ten of priorities right now[1]).  

Ninya and her repro BPJ[3]

It can be comforting and/or therapeutic to watch other people struggling as well; so it was nice to learn this week that a) there's this new BBC mini-series, "A Stitch in Time", in which the presenter (a fashion historian) works with Ninya Mikhaila (yes, that Ninya) to re-create historical clothing; and b) they did the Black Prince's jupon in one of the episodes.  So I threw that up on the YouTubes while doing buttons; and my expectation of either interesting education or cathartic shrieking angrily at the teevee was vastly exceeded by learning that their process for figuring out the quilting, and then doing the quilting, was pretty much EXACTLY WHAT I DID FOR THE POURPOINT.  I mean, even the swatches are the same[2].  Now, let it be said, our panel of local experts are challenging some of their conclusions; and the objections seem cogent, and entirely worth the debate; but whatever the ultimate truth is for this garment, I cannot properly express how much of a boost it is for my mental state to find that the Actual Academic Professionals started & ended from the same place that I did. 

Though it would've saved me a lot of drama and trauma if they'd done it a couple years earlier.

I am sufficiently re-energized that I'm going to knuckle down and cut out my consort's 14th c. shirt today.  It isn't quite the most urgent priority either (I have to get my project management class together, and do some Pennsic camp admin crap), but it shouldn't take me long, and then I have something I can just pick up and mindlessly seam for the next several evenings.



[1] particularly when we realized last night that he has grown a bit too prosperous for the garment at present
[2] well, they didn't have to go through the cotton batting stage, but.
[3] Another blogger went to an exhibition of the Stitch in Time clothes; better photos here

In Which There Is Competition

it is following you home and you can keep it

As threatened, yesterday I entered the pourpoint into the East Kingdom's competition to choose their Majesties' champions of arts & sciences.  Strange as it may seem, I think this is only the fourth competition (as opposed to a display, where you aren't judged) I've entered in all my time--one at Mudthaw like ten or twelve years ago when I didn't know which end was up, and twice at St. Eligius, which is rather a different kettle of fish, much more recently.  Of course I have talked to people who've competed at this level before; and the competition maestros were very communicative about what to expect and how the day would go; but it's never the same as actually participating. 

My display was mostly straightforward--I had the swatches with the different types of padding material, and bowls of samples of those materials, and a Binder Full of Documentation (and Photos). I didn't want to just throw the pourpoint on a hanger, as that really gives no idea of the garment.  So, after frantic gibbering on the facebooks & receiving advice from more professional heads, I lugged along my (size 6 female) dressmaker's dummy, a tight t-shirt, and the rest of the bowed cotton, and stuffed it out to more or less pad a size 40 male torso.  Learning experience!  It worked tolerably well, at that--clothing looks 100% better if it's actually on a shape; but lord, I don't want to have to do that every time I display a garment. 

Most of the day passed in rather a haze.  I wasn't completely over the lurgy that flattened me this week (I'm still not, really), and the hall was unfortunately loud and crowded, which is not an environment I thrive well in, to say the least.  The event staff did a phenomenal job trying to keep all the artisans fed, watered, and as comfortable as possible (propping exterior doors open, etc.), and I was sharing a table with two members of the co-prosperity sphere so we could all panic together, and mah peeps checked in frequently to monitor my physical and mental status bars and boost them however they could; all of which helped immensely.  

A thing that was terrific, and different from the average A&S display (especially the one at Pennsic), was that the larger part of the people coming through are artisans themselves and have a deeper engagement in what they see, even if it's not in their own field of study.  When you're a clothier, you get resigned[1] to spectators' eyes glazing over past your work unless it's covered in gold thread or spangles; but here, I had many more interested people asking interesting questions, and that felt great.

On the down side of that, because I felt I ought to stay at my display and be available to talk to people about it, I didn't get a chance to go around and look at other peoples' stuff and have interesting conversations with them.  I'm bummed about that, and on future go-rounds I would like to find the right balance between being available to seekers and yet reserve me-time to feed my head.  

It would be idle to deny I'm disappointed that I wasn't a finalist.  I thought I was going in with a damn good shot, and it was something of a blow to learn that I wasn't in the top 20% of the field[2].  But, at least for those whose craft I'm familiar with, the artisans who did make the cut do really fine work and excellent research; and it's absolutely no shame to come in trailing them.  

quoth a friend,
"ooooh, you're
banging a lord
tonight!"

So, the pourpoint went to its forever home at the end of the night...and I think my patron is having second thoughts about a garment with over 80 buttons on it, but I assured him it gets easier...and I can start taking thought to everything that's been on hold in the interim.  (The veil-and-wimple getup worked pretty well; my favorite compliment of the day, possibly the whole year, was being told I looked just like a tomb weeper; but the construction starts drifting down the back of your head as the day goes on.) 

Other happy things of the day: my dashing consort got his Award of Arms; and one of our co-prosperity sphere was made a Companion of the Maunche--which I was honored and overjoyed to write the words for his scroll.  Where by "scroll", I mean "runestone".  And by "words", I mean "a poem in a Nordic style that is really fucking hard in English because three- and four-syllable lines whyyyyyy".  (The English version was then translated into Old Norse and then into runes for inscribing.  Not by me, needless to say.)  It was a fascinating exercise, though, and I enjoyed it[3].


[1] or you don't, in which case you spend a lot of time unhappily shaking your fist at the sky, and who wants that? 
[2] 7 out of 37 contestants moved to the final round.
[3] 100% true story: in high school, I was voted Most Likely To Write An Anglo-Saxon Epic.

The Pourpoint Commission: And On The Seventh Day, She Wrote Documentation

The pourpoint is DONE.  I moved the final card from "In Progress" to "Completed" on the ole kanban board last night; the subsequent celebration of which I am still feeling a tad this morning, ahem.   Also I am having a giant smug that I did not quite run out of the quilting thread--there's about a yard and a half remaining.

Naturally, that is not the end of the matter.  The garment is finished, but the project is not; I'll need to finish the linen test version at some point (oh god more quilting) (at least it'll be laced, not buttoned).  More immediately, however, I need to get my documentation ready for the competition.  I have the basic skeleton already--I wrote my usual couple of pages[1] for when I showed it at Pennsic--so I can expand from there, including all of the neckbeardy detail that one is usually wiser to excise in documentation meant for the general public.  I am reasonably sure I can knock that out today and still have leisure to make Rôti de Porc Poêlé aux Choux for dinner.  No, I'm more concerned about the rest of the display and how to arrange it. Obviously I'll have my test swatches and samples of the different padding materials; maybe a couple of spare buttons, too; but I am chewing on what else to include--there's a fine line between "interesting additional detail" and "a giant cluttered mess".  And I really don't want to faff around with a science-fair style tri-fold standup.  Dear past me: maybe I shoulda gone to one of these before entering, just to see how other people roll. 

Silk Clothing,
BNF Nouvelle acquis.
lat. 1673

Oh hey typing this all out is giving me stomach butterflies.  Or maybe I've had too much coffee.  Or both.

Anyways: staying focused: today I write the actual paper, and also dig out linen to use for veils (or learn that I don't have anything suitable).   I have two weeks to freak out about my presentation.  

--LATE BREAKING SUDDEN INSPIRATION: look at the various Tacuinum images of tailor shops and make it look like one of those?  hmm.

[1] which, as usual, almost no one read, hey ho

The Pourpoint Commission: Buttoning Down

ONE! ONE BUTTONED SLEEVE! HA, HA, HA!

It's been a long holiday season, with the concomitant distractions, coming-down-sick, family visits, suddenly holding three offices[1] and so on; but I kept plugging away at the work, and although I'm not as far along as I hoped to be, I'm within the baseline schedule.

First off, it developed that the local post office just lost my quilting thread entirely, so I had to reorder them completely (snarl).  This arrived quickly and safely, at least, so I got back to work on the sleeves right after Christmas Day and finished them up...while coming to the slow realization that I was going to be woefully short of buttons.  Not just the cloth ones, either; I extrapolated the measurements and calculated I was going to need about another half-dozen metal-core ones as well.  Which meant I also needed to order another packet of metal blanks from the other vendor.  kiiiiilll meeeeee

However I had plenty to do while waiting for that shipment, so I placed the order and got cracking on another ~30 cloth buttons....where by "got cracking" I realized I had not recorded what dimensions I used for the fabric pieces that make up the buttons, so I had to cut a finished button of each kind open and measure it.   For the record, the metal-core flat buttons are 1-1/4" rounds of fabric with a gather stitch in a 1" diameter circle; and the cloth ones are 2" squares with a gather stitch in a 1-1/4" diameter circle.  This results in as close to a 5/8" button as you can get under these fabric conditions, which do not lead to anything remotely resembling consistency.  (When I do finally get to making my fancy overdress, I'm curious to see if that brocade behaves as chaotically as this one does.)

When I got all the existing buttons sewn on, I realized I didn't actually need any additional metal button blanks at all; I had just enough (at least, once I re-made the one I had to cut apart for analysis).  *facepalm*  Still, I figure I can make a couple extra and give them to my patron in case he loses any.

Current state of play on all fronts--

• Pourpoint itself: all that needs doing is about 25 more buttonholes, and undoing & fixing two spots at the top of the shoulder where the fashion fabric has pulled out of the seam.  Buuuut I also have to write my paper and figure out how to arrange my display... Likelihood of on-time completion: 100%
• Silk dress: The body seams are done & gores in; the sleeves are constructed (one more long seam remaining); but I have to sew in the sleeves and then do all the fiddly bits--center front facing, neck facing, and all the G-D eyelets, which usually takes me just as long as the actual construction.  Likelihood of on-time completion: 80%. Likelihood I'll be able to wear it: 45%, because...
• Sideless surcoat remake: haven't even looked at that shit.  In theory, as noted before, it wouldn't be more than a day's work, but that assumes I have everything I need.  So, likelihood of on-time completion: 45%.
• New veils: whaaaat, you say?  Where'd that come from?  Well, I've been displeased with my head styling for some time, and this displeasure has steadily raised to the point where I can no longer abide. So I spent some time when I couldn't sew thinking this question through, and I have a long-term complicated plan involving fake braids and one of them fancy frounced veils; but as a Phase One implementation I was going to follow the excellent Katafalk blog's how-to for getting The Look when you have short hair.  To do this, I need two pieces of nice linen hemmed up: one for the wimple, and one for the veil.  And I am thinking maybe I ought to prioritize this work over the new dress, because my wool dresses are good quality and all, and I would rather look complete to a shade (if bourgeois) than dressed in silk & velvet with hair like a haystack or wearing nothing but a cotton (!!) headrail.  But I am very slow with rolled hems and I haven't even looked at my linen stash to see if I have anything fine enough in stock.  Likelihood of on-time completion: 70%, if I prioritize it over the dressmaking.

[1] yeah so I'm now Webminister for the Kingdom Ministry of Arts & Sciences, and Seneschal of our local canton, and deputy Webminister for same.  I'm not sure how that all happened at once.  Or why "all at once" happened to be "right now".  Frickin' comedy writers.

Work Is Occurring Yes

Many buttons.  Too many buttons.

This post will be more laundry-list and less explicative, because we're into the pre-Pennsic sewing crunch and I have six quarts of boeuf bourguignon to make, vacuum-seal, and freeze today.  So without further ado, here's what I've been up to:

• Put lacing holes in the late-period suit my ronin-sister made for my dashing consort last year, and added cloth buttons on the front closing of the netherhose.  Which latter was warm-up for...
• Made all the buttons for the pourpoint.  At least, I hope that fifty-five will be enough.  *thud*  For the flat buttons, I'd bought some felt to insert, but even with two layers (and it's pretty thick felt) the result was still too squishy; so I messed around a bit and found a way to cover the pewter forms I'd gotten for this in the first place.
• Cut out a new, larger pair of lower sleeves for the pourpoint, which I have to set up & quilt today (something I have been in massive amounts of avoidance about).
• Made a green linen apron for 16th-century working clothes.  Well, I mean, apron tech hasn't really changed over the medieval period (take a rectangle of fabric. tie it around your waist.  wipe your hands on it.) but we actually see green linen ones as a specific and recurring item in 16c. England, so there it is.  Also I had a bunch of dark green linen. --Now, the truth is, that's probably supposed to be a wearing-out apron and not a grotty-job apron, so I still actually need an apron for doing grotty jobs; but this is not today's problem.  
• Knocked together a 2nd pair of generic linen trews for my dashing consort, in case it's another stupid hot year.  In spite of redoing the pattern per his feedback on the first pair, somehow they still came out too short-waisted and bind his bits. Snarl.
• Cut out a linen GFD.  This is not going to be any kind of show piece, it will be machine-sewn oh yes it will, but just something cheery and cool for hot weather in case it's another stupid hot year.  (You sense a theme here?)   Especially since my blue dress is reaching end-of-life.  

I am hoping to complete all of the above items as well as a partlet before we leave; let's see what happens.

The Pourpoint Commission: Beta Release

Action shot!

I misunderestimated how much time it would take to reach Minimum Viable Product, which meant a lot of late nights and sewing-over-lunch-hours; but the pourpoint was ready at the time the client wanted it, which was "after court, for the feast".  So, a success, as far as this goes.

Many people were kind enough to comment on how well they thought it looked, but I, of course, can only see the things I want to fix or do better.  Well, and there are some definite actual problems too--in spite of having cut the forearm pieces bigger, they are still an inch too narrow (WTF!?!).  Herewith, a list of items to amend before I hand it off to the client for good[1] at Pennsic:

• Buttons and buttonholes, duh.  Est. time: 20-25 hours maybe?  I am not super fast with buttonholes and I don't know how long it'll take me to cover/make the buttons.
• I still have to determine what I'm going to do about the round buttons.  Entirely fabric, like Red Charlie's?  Or solid-core, like the flat buttons definitely are?  AAAAAAA.
• Re-cut and re-quilt the lower sleeves larger.  6 hours or so.
• Add the cuff piece that I thought I didn't need 'cause the lower sleeve was long enough when I fit it but isn't now (though, aheheh, I think I can just cut off the bottom of the extant lower sleeves and use that?)  Possibly no time at all.
• I may have to do a little neckline fiddling once I've lined up the center front properly, which I couldn't do when stitching him in.  A couple hours.
• I really feel it ought to be a couple inches longer (though I only lost 1/2" from quilting shrinkage, so I guess that was a botch from the word go).  So I'm thinking of quilting strips to sew to the bottom of each body piece.  4 hours?
• This is a lead-in to a separate irk: the "skirt" of the pourpoint was flaring out in an incorrect fashion.  I am hoping that adding length will help that, but I don't know if that's enough to overcome the forcing-out by the thickness of the padding.  Theoretically, closing up the slits at the hips would fix this; but Gold Charlie has those slits, so...no.  
• Now, Gold Charlie also has a ton of additional tie points for hose, and if you tied your hose all around that would help drag the skirt down; but this also confuses me 'cause most men's hose designs I've seen only have a single attachment point in front, so I really am not clear WTF is going on here.  I'm going to try at least attaching the two hose points we have a little lower on the body, and see if that makes a diff.
• It's also too loose around the hips, at that.  Should be more form-fitting to match the imagery.  I don't know how to make that happen without closing the slits, though.
• And then after these tasks I gotta re-hem it all.  *drinks hemlock*

As a side note, I stuffed the upper chest portion as much as ever the fabric could hold, but it's not getting the pouter-pigeon effect.  I guess we just have to chalk that up as artistic license.  (Or a difference in body shape for dudes whose day job involves living in armor.)  

Oh, and I need to finish the linen test version too.  Probably another 10-12 hours of quilting and a bit more cotton bowing, and then maybe 5 hours of assembly + 12 hours of eyelets.

[1] with occasional borrow-backs for competitions & displays

The Pourpoint Commission: Coming Around The Clubhouse Turn

This will be a little more perfunctory and less image-enabled, because ain't no one got time for that, and also my phone forgot how to connect to wifi after the March 5 Android patches and this has caused me to use up all my data plan for the month and Google Support has not followed up after "did you try a factory reset?" so uploading photos is not currently a thing.  But at least I SPELLED THE POST TITLE RIGHT AFJDKFJKDFJFJDK

ahem

Right. So, where are we after a week of blitz?  

• All pieces are quilted except the right front, the two upper sleeves, one lower sleeve, and one back gore
• One of the two hose ties is made up[1]
• The upper back & lower back are sewn together (and the seam allowances are finished, TYVM)

This doesn't seem like a great deal of advancement, but to be honest, from an effort perspective we're over the hump.  I have all of today...modulo eating and, ahem, blogging...to put to it; that's probably a good ten hours' work available (well, I already put in an hour this morning finishing up other gores) and then every evening this week.  I have also rethought the order of events--I had intended to spend today quilting the right front piece (and that woulda been the whole day, too, probably), in the instinctive desire to prioritize the most fundamental pieces; but instead I'm going to do the upper sleeves.  Because why?  Because then I can take them into work and set gores over my lunch hour. I will have to jettison my workout routine, but needs must when the devil drives.

An hose tie.  It's made up of the lining linen cut into a forked
strip and then wrapped in silk quilting thread.

There is, as expected, no damn way I'm getting 50+ buttons & buttonholes done by Saturday, even if I farmed out the work; the client is OK with being sewn in for this.  So, the Minimum Viable Product task list, in no particular order: 

• Quilt remaining pieces
• Set gores in upper sleeves
• Sew lower sleeves to upper sleeves
• Sew front pieces to back (that's two side seams and two shoulder seams)
• Attach sleeves to body
• Hem all raw edges (not literally hemstitch)
• Make up 2nd hose tie
• Attach hose ties

Other than quilting, probably the slowest part will be closing up the raw edges... In the absolute worst-case scenario, I can do all the long(ish) seams by machine, and then rip 'em out afterwards and redo them properly.  

RIght; breakfast, and then on.

[1] which I did while watching a vendor demo. Who says vendors are a waste of time?

The Pourpoint Commission: Not So Much "Launch" As "Measured Acceleration"

the cult of Baron Samedi took a
strange turn in some clothworker
guilds

The past week's efforts were somewhat restricted by lacking any pale-colored silk quilting thread, because in my laudable Buy All The Things In Advance effort I had only gotten black thread. because I am genius.  shut up.

I became aware of this resource gap a few hours after last week's post; I had laid out the pattern pieces on the silk to get an idea of how much wiggle room was available, was pleasantly surprised to find a comfortable amount, and cut off (with some wincing and gritted teeth) a 6" square to test-swatch.  I set it all up on a small frame and went "...oh."  I put in a rush order for what I needed--getting both white and natural colors, since I wasn't sure which would look better and I didn't want to go through the same thing a few days later--and proceeded on the test swatch with the black thread I had, because it's a test swatch and who cares?  

Promising, yes.

Pleasant surprise #2: the silk, even when packed much more fully than the linen, didn't have any perceptible lossage either.  That meant I could proceed with cutting out the pattern pieces from the silk without any additional pattern-frobbing, hallelujah.  No; just had to do all the frobbing to make sure the brocade motifs lined up in an agreeable fashion.  This is a) not easy and b) nerve-wracking, particularly the first time around, particularly on fabric this expensive.  Also, my kingdom for space for a table I can cut out fabric on.  oh god my back. 

The rest of the week there wasn't a lot I could do, waiting on the thread arrival, so I stuffed it full of the social engagements I wouldn't have time for once I really got going, and did a few minor tasks, like ensuring I had lining fabric ahem.  I decided to use the Sartor heavy natural linen I had in stash already, because a) it's worthy, b) I have a goodly amount of it since I'd intended to make a dress for me and a suit for Himself out of it, and c) most of the other stuff I have to hand is fine, underwear-weight, and if you're anchoring expensive silk and a pound of cotton floof on it, not to mention OVER FIFTY BUTTONS AFJKDJFKDJFKLJG, I figure you want something a bit more solid.  (And it's not coarse heavy; just heavier than their other stuff, which is rated "fine".)  Regrettably, I have no information about Gold Charlie's lining, other than that it is linen, but I feel this is a reasonable choice.

in media res

I had all my critical resources in place to begin yesterday afternoon, so after doing a stay-stitch around the armhole curves, I got cracking on the upper back piece, which is comparatively easy: it doesn't have to match anything and the motifs line right up down the center back so you have some built-in guidance.  Happily, the brocade motifs are spaced in such a way that, by running the quilting lines along the the top and bottom of the quatrefoil lobes, this works out very close to the 30mm spacing on Gold Charlie.  That'll work for all the large pieces except the lower back, whose lines are on a slight curve, because there is no God[1]; the gores are a mixed bag, and I will worry about them later.

Some observations thus far:

• I should do the first, centermost line of quilt stitches on each piece with no padding in place, then stuff on either side of it.  That will make life so much easier.  Why did I not think of this sooner.
• The silk quilting thread is annoying as hell and wants to be waxed, which I was reluctant to do with silk, but a) it's unravelling and b) it's knotting itself up.
• Switching to a finer needle makes a huuuuge difference here.  My usual quilting betweens were just not doing it.
• Instead of laying out everything on a big-ass piece of lining fabric and just "scrolling" it into place on the frame, I'm breaking it down into smaller pieces.  This is going to be considerably more profligate with the lining fabric, but I have some compelling reasons:
• I don't want already-done pieces of the garment to get smooshed under the frame holders.  This is no big deal for a linen garment but I don't want to get marks on the silk.
• the downside is, I'll have some uncomfortable sessions getting to the center of the frame with my little T-rex arms, sigh.
• It's easier to manage the frame if there isn't 2 yards of excess linen drooping around it in all directions.
• I'll take some of the waste fabric, as available, and put it on the small frame to do the gores.  This also makes my project a little more portable. As long as I'm going to a place that has an embroidery frame stand. -_-

I also had the inspiration to outsource the cotton bowing to an under-employed friend, who is coming up today to do that thing.  I am pleased with my Very Medieval Solution to my critical lack-of-time problem.  Warning: do not come near my living room today.

I still haven't found a solution for the round buttons.  I checked all the usual vendors and so far have come up empty.  I wonder if only the disc buttons are metal underneath?  I wonder if the Charles IV exhibition people made assumptions because they found a bunch of metal buttons too?  WHY WILL NO ONE PUBLISH GOLD CHARLIE?

Current music: the Deadpool soundtrack. On auto-repeat.

[1] Actually it's because of the interesting shape of the waist seam at the back; once the upper & lower backs are attached, the curved lines look straight.  I have not taken the time to suss out why this arrangement is better than a straight seam. 

The Pourpoint Commission: It's Go Time

"It's 21 days to Mudthaw, we have six metres of
Sartor silk, four pounds of raw cotton, society
is collapsing and we have day jobs."  "Hit it."

After days of obsessive activity somewhat interrupted by being gone for a week for a work conference, I got enough of the test pourpoint together--i.e. the body + left arm, which is my patron's dominant side--for a fitting yesterday afternoon, and mirabile dictu, we are actually in pretty good shape here.  I need to add a little extra around the midsection (behold the difference between a human animal in summer and winter) and a little extra around the forearm muscle; no huhu.  My only concern is the way the front gore fits, which looks a little bunchy and puffy.  I took consultation with my panel of experts on how best to fiddle this, and by moving the seam inwards a little on the gore, it should do better.  (Viewers will note that there is some bunching under the armpit, which is true; this is a consequence of both the padding and the extra fabric needed to get the range of motion which is the whole point of the grande assiette sleeve.  So, that's okay.)  


It was interesting to note the difference in padding thickness on the pieces, as well.  The ones I had done first (the back) were much less full than the ones I did last (the sleeve & gores).  This wasn't at all intentional, and indeed I wasn't even conscious of it as I was working.  I think it's a combination of early trepidation + later confidence; at first, I was afraid of over-padding and turning it into a ski jacket, and with each successive piece I was worrying less about that and just instinctively adding Enough Padding To Make It Look Right.  And, as it is, I think I will want to up the levels even more, particularly across the upper chest.  

So.  Hurray.  We pass unit testing.  Guess what that means:  Time to do the real piece. And I am determined to have this in wearable state for the patron on March 25, which is an important event for him.  Possibly this is madness; though minimum-viable-product is having the garment done except the OVER FIFTY BUTTONS AND BUTTONHOLES AFJKDJFKDJFKLJG and sew him into it for the day, which reduces the number of required hours by a significant factor.  We'll see how it goes. 

aaaaaaaaaaaa I am being
trusted with this

Some thoughts:

• The big elephant in the room is, how differently will the silk behave in the quilting process?  I had no lossage due to padding on the test unit, but I'm pretty sure this is because linen is mad stretchy.  Silk is not.  And we do not have much, if any, excess fabric here to screw around with.
• How best to do the sleeves is an open question yet.  The pattern instructs you to assemble the upper sleeve (i.e., insert the gores) and then quilt it all down together; and I started with that, and then looked at the now somewhat three-dimensional item, and could not see how it could be done on a stretched-flat quilting frame.  So I took it apart, quilted each piece individually, and then assembled them.  This worked--though if you think setting a gore is hard, try doing it when all the pieces are thickly padded--but it wasn't the best or neatest.  Beth opined it could be done post-assembly by hand, sans frame, but I'm not convinced that'll end well for me. 
• also, damn do I wish I had gotten to the serious quilting before I went to see Gold Charlie.  I have a whole list of things I would look at more closely now.
• I estimate that 450g-500g of cotton is probably about right for padding one courtly pourpoint.  I still have a good bit left of my first batch of bowing, but a) I haven't quilted the right sleeve pieces yet and b) as noted earlier I should've used a lot more on the body pieces at least.
• Mem: make sure the quilting lines will line up with each other across the center front.
• I have been advised to balance the pattern of the brocade on the different pieces.  The medievals weren't obsessed with perfect matching like we moderns are, but if you look at Gold Charlie, they didn't just slap the pieces together willy-nilly either.  
•  I did order some 5/8" buttons; the flat ones will do the job for the lower front, but the domed ones are right out.  I need actually round buttons for the sleeves & upper torso.  
• oh hey let's make sure I have enough plain white linen in stock for lining this

The next order of operations is to lay out all the pattern pieces on the silk, getting the brocade lined up and all, so I see exactly how much extra I have to play with for testing purposes (and for covering 50+ buttons, fjdklajfdklajflajfakdkjagfdf).  If I have enough extra, I'll quilt say a 6" test swatch and see what our stretch factor is.  --Oh hey.  I could do the test swatch, and then disassemble it and use that for covering buttons, if I absolutely had to.  

ora pro me

The Pourpoint Commission: The Long Dark Night of the Quilting

Current status: 

Quilting.  Lots of quilting.  It will never end. I have binge-watched the LOTR trilogy and am working my way through Daredevil and I still have a long way to go.  However, I want to capture a few thoughts in media res.

Where we started

• The PVC quilting frame is sufficient unto the purpose--I could not do the project without a frame, that's very clear--and the break-down-ability is a critical success factor for my environment.  But, this comes at a cost: I have to keep pulling the fabric tight (somewhat minor nit), and the pipes come loose from their corner joins every time I shift the frame at all (irritating AF).
• The ordinary quilting wisdom definitely applies here: start in the middle of the piece and work towards the edge.  Things get wonky if you don't, even if you think everything's pinned down right and tight.  
• I'm using Wm. Booth's 60/2 unbleached linen thread for the quilting.  I think it's a little more coarse than is quite right, and also it is showing up super obviously against the dark green fashion fabric; but it's working just fine.
• It's very hard to judge whether I'm getting the same padding thickness from piece to piece (or even on the same piece, betimes).  I expect this is one of those cases where, if it's your whole career, it becomes second nature to eyeball it. 
• After, hm, 16 hours of work I think?, I have finished quilting both back pieces and most of the right front, and my current best rate is about 6" of quilting in 10 minutes.  That rate is unsustainable for long periods, though, because your eyeballs start aching.
• I really need to find metal button forms ASAP. I may be able to kludge some of the 18th/19th century repro stuff for this--they'll get covered with fabric anyways.  But I need to prioritize lining up some test objects.

Back to work.

[1] This issue is exacerbated by some already-done parts getting smushed down by the clamps at the side of the frame, as I have to adjust the working area.

Much Brain, Little Progress

YASSSS GOLD CHARLIE IN PERSON

It's been awhile.   Part of this has been The Holidays, part of it two lurgies (the second one culminating in a mondo sinus infection that I'm still taking antibiotics for), part of it was, well, okay, *humblebrag* a trip to Germany where I got to see Gold Charlie (!!!1!), along with many other of our favorite hits.  But to be entirely candid, my absence of either writing or, y'know, actual productivity has been the socio-political situation of the nation.  I spend a lot of my time in states of rage or despair or both, and when I try to muster my forces to do something artistic or creative I am swamped with feelings of "what does this matter when the world is on fire?".  I am working to retool my brain in this, because a) I have made commitments to people, b) mental health requires both downtime and creative time, and c) fuck these assholes[1] I'm gonna make things[2].   

I did make some small progress on the pourpoint over the hols; I bowed 500 grams of cotton, which took two movies[3] to do (including rest breaks, which there were many of).  I've ordered proper linen and silk sewing thread for the quilting work. And, I've re-stretched my base linen on the frame, but without setting it up completely, so the cats can't use it as a hammock; so all I have to do is pop the top part onto the standing part, and go.  (Goal is to make the setup and takedown easy enough that I can get a reasonable amount done in an evening.)

This is the photo from the exhibition catalogue;
the buttons in question are the three at center top.
You can't see in this shot, but they have shanks that
are about the same as the ones below them.

My trip as relating to the Pourpoint Commission:  Well, I got to see Gold Charlie, obvs.  It being in a special exhibition, of course I couldn't take photos (I snuck the one up top, as you do), but to be honest, the way he was on display meant that there wasn't a lot to see that I didn't already know, either from books or from standing on the shoulders of giants.  Now, had we been able to see his inside... But it was still a highlight and I got all giddy.  More immediately useful, however, was a display in the same case, of various buttons and belt bits dug up in Prague.  These included some flat metal button forms which, the label text contended, were the same as the flat buttons on Gold Charlie (fabric-covered, obviously).  Pressing my nose to the glass, I think they have the right of it.  So I need to find a source to approximate those.  (They didn't specify anything regarding the round buttons on his top part, but they also look to have a firm base, so I assume those are probably metal as well.)  I did also buy the enormous companion book to the exhibition, which is entirely auf Deutsch; from what I puzzle out on Gold Charlie's entry, they only mention the use of linen thread, which seems off to me; from all I've observed, the medievals seem to prefer like thread to like fabric--as previously noted, the Black Prince's jupon[4], silk velvet, uses silk thread for quilting.  (Red Charlie has silk thread on his outer, silk layer, and linen thread on his linen inner layer.) What I figure to do is use linen thread on the linen test unit, and silk thread on the final project.  

Editorial and possibly too-judgy note: I do not for the life of me see how anyone can look at Gold Charlie and think those quilting lines are an after-market conservation add.  Maybe it depends on how he'd been displayed in the past; I dunno.

Passementerie crown from a
reliquary of Kunegunde; 14th
century.  Super nifty. Again,
photo from catalogue

But! This was only a fraction of my adventures.  We went to Bamberg Cathedral and the Diocesan Museum there, where lives the Star Mantle of Henry II (and several other big muckin' embroidered things attributed to him and Kunegunde), and the entire burial suit of an 11th-century bishop--none of which you can take photos of, I may add; I bought the book but it's not super great for pictures.   The Germanisches Nationalmuseum has, of course, a hojillion other medieval stuffs, even if a bunch of them are not on display at any given time; but my old buddy the heraldic embroidered pouch was out and I got many, many photos of him.  (Including the details of how his tablet-woven edges work, woo hoo.)  I feel like I could give a paper just on his construction details (though I may need help from the more expert tablet weavers for specifics of the pattern because I'm not very good at this game yet).  And there's a bunch of stuff in the Imperial Castle Museum in Nuremberg--most of it not textile or costume related, it's true, but good general aesthetic (lots of arms & armor, too, for the people into that stuff).  And we day-tripped to Munich and went to the Bayerisches Nationalmuseum, which has TWO WHOLE ROOMS of nothing but medieval textiles.  I am a failure at getting details of these, because with a few exceptions there were no labels next to the pieces, just on giant unwieldly cards in pockets at the corner of the room (and entirely in German); and very little of this stuff is in their online collection. -_-  But I got many photos and we can always cross-reference with the book which they had in the room but not in the gift shop, wtf you guys.   

Kinda small but
click through, you'll
see what I mean

I also saw a lot of art in various media that was capturing the 14th century beau ideal; particularly the Schöner Brunnen in Nuremberg's town square, which is actually original--something I didn't realize at first, because it's in such perfect condition, especially when you consider that most of Nuremberg was completely pulverized in WWII.  But it's covered with Important Figures in a range of outfits--the nine worthies are in high fashion, prophets and philosophers are in more modest clothing, etc.   And here's a thing, my Gothic peeps: all the high-fashion gents, not just here but all over, have the big plaque-like hip belt we're used to seeing; but many of them also have a similar but smaller belt around the wasped portion of the waist.  It seems to be entirely decorative, not functional--pouches and daggers and things are always hanging off the hip belt--but it's all over the place.  (And it's definitely a belt; I got a photo of a St. George in the round that shows its buckle and strap in back.)  Thoughts?

Anyways, getting back on the wagon: today I need to sketch out some ideas for [REDACTED], which is a team project with a longer fuse, but we want to get our designs settled & approved so we can appropriately source materials and plan out the work.  After that, I'm going to crack the whip and get quiltin'.  I want to have the final of the pourpoint commission done for Mudthaw, which is March 25th.  This was a lot more plausible before I lost most of January to being sick; but if I could do the 19th Century Project in two months, by the Lord Harry[5] I can do this.  

Current music: Pink Floyd, "On the Turning Away"

[1] Seriously: Michael Cohen, Trump's lawyer, was insinuating that the pussyhats were mass-produced in overseas sweatshops.  Because dead white guys can't understand that we create things.
[2] I was away during the Pussyhat Project, to my sorrow, but I have procured two different yarns--one acid green, one flesh-and-dark-green, to make brain hats for the March for Science on Earth Day.  
[3] Ladyhawke and Watership Down, if you really wanna work out the exact times
[4] What should we label this?  Heraldic Eddie?   Just plain ol' Eddie, since there's only one of him?
[5] I am trying to become less potty-mouthed, and find interesting oaths to use instead.

A Little Pourpoint, A Few Museums

ahem

Following the head-clearing of the most recent post, I hitched up my belt and decided to just start somewhere; this is the test piece after all, and if it's not perfect, that's okay.  And since I am pretty clear on what's going on with the body pieces at least, that seemed like a good place to start.  

Marking the quilting lines on the
LB piece

I laid out my base linen and transferred the body pattern pieces[1] (left front, right front, upper back, lower back) onto it, incorporating the various notes and adjustments[2] from the muslin; a process that, once again, makes me long for a) a large table, b) a light-box, and/or at the very least c) pattern weights.  Then I moved it to the ironing board[3] and, just for the first piece I'm going to work (the lower back, which is the least significant piece) marked the seam allowance & quilting lines there.  Now, Gold Charlie's quilting lines are 3.4cm apart; this is about 1⅓ inches.  My gridded ruler doesn't do thirds, so I started with 1¼; that looked too narrow, so I went up to 1½. Once that was done, I got the whole linen length onto the frame.

if you think these lines look cock-
eyed, you are entirely correct

With some labor, I got the whole thing under good tension, and then looking at the LB piece I saw that the lines were quite uneven, in spite of using a gridded ruler to mark the center line (which instead wandered off to something more like Manhattan-north) and all my other careful efforts.  Grumble.  So, spent some time redoing that.  Then I cut out the fashion-fabric linen for the lower back.  This was the end of the evening on a Saturday, so I figured as how to leave it set up; get to bowing cotton on Sunday; and hopefully be able to quilt a bit several evenings of the week.

Unfortunately I did not take lessons from my wiser and more experienced friends; and I woke up to an Earth-Shattering Kaboom and learned that although this cat hammock could take one cat, it couldn't take both of them.

AHEM

I lost my momentum at this point and put the whole thing aside for several days.  About the time I was ready to buckle down again, I cleverly fell down our building's stairs and committed various indignities to my shoulder and wrists, which made bow operation impossible for several more days.  And now we're into the pre-holiday whirl.  Argh.  

That said, I did get some medieval head-feeding going on!  I went up to my sister's outside Boston for Thanksgiving, and she thoughtfully provided for my entertainment with a trip to the Peabody-Essex Museum, an institution I had been entirely unfamiliar with.  They are notable for having one of the best collections of Asian art in the US (including an entire Chinese house); but our trip was for an exhibition on shoes, put together by the V&A, with some local additions--the Peabody Essex also has a huge shoe collection (who knew?).  So I would have enjoyed the heck out of it to begin with; but imagine my surprise and delight to find some period shoon I hadn't seen before:

14th-century poulaine. That is one narrow-looking
sole if you ask me

Tudor shoe.  Note the nice big toe box. No bunions
for these guys.

And then, the weekend following, we went down to Baltimore to the Walters Art Museum, another institution I had been entirely unfamiliar with (do you sense a pattern?).  This trip was triggered in an unusual, possibly unique, manner; when we were at the V&A in October, a whole bunch of cases in their medieval rooms had little "sorry!" notes to state that this or that piece had been lent to the Walters for their "A Feast for the Senses" exhibition.  By the sixth or seventh of these, we looked at each other and said "well OK, I guess we're going to Baltimore"; and so we got us up a convoy and did so.  It develops that the Walters has one of the best medieval collections in the US (how the hell did I not know this?!), so even without the special exhibition it would have been entirely worth the trip.  But! The special exhibition is exceedingly well done, and I heartily recommend it to your attention, if you can fit it into your holiday schedule (it closes Jan. 8).  No photos, naturally, but the exhibition catalogue is nice.

[1] Does the fabric grain cease to matter (in a structural sense) in a case like this, because of all the padding & quilting holding everything in alignment?

[2] Marking on the ironing board was a horrible choice for a host of reasons, including "squishy board cover", "not being able to have the whole piece flat at the same time", and "insufficient light".  I should have done it on the floor, or possibly once the piece was stretched on the frame (which is where I ended up re-doing it).

[3] NB: I did not make any changes in the pattern pieces to account for the quilting.  On the test swatch, there was no difference side-to-side, and less than a half-inch top-to-bottom; and I expect to quilt the piece less fully than the swatch.  Let's see what happens!

The Pourpoint Commission: A Little Lost In The Woods

Current mood:

This didn't help either.

In spite of last weekend's delightful surprise and concomitant confidence-building, it must be admitted that I haven't exactly been tearing out of the gate on this project subsequently.  A good part of this is due to post-election emotions, a combination of "what does it all matter" +  compulsion for immersive escapism[1] which I've found exceedingly difficult to overcome.  But even setting that aside, the problem is that I can't see my path clearly, and that's stopping me from even starting the parts I do have a plan for.  So, let me try and lay it all out.

I have established that the pieces much be stretched for quilting, or the quilting won't work. -> It is known that Red Charlie was done this by stretching the base fabric on a frame, and then putting the padding and then the fashion fabric on top, and quilting 'em all together. -> Logically, since the same guild would make Red Charlie and Gold Charlie, they'd do the same technique.  (And also, I can't figure out any other way to do it given the original postulate.)

Points of question:

• This is somewhat wasteful of the base fabric, as you have to have enough unused space around the edge to attach it to the frame. Is that cricket?
• I think that's OK for this project because it's a rich guy's garment and if he's affording silk damask he doesn't have to give a tinker's dam about a few scraps of linen--but it opens the question of, how did they do the common soldier's aketon?  He can't afford it.  What's the process for him?  And what am I missing by not knowing it?
• Stupid minor nit: what is the best analogue for period silk sewing thread?  I used silk buttonhole twist for quilting the swatch, and it worked well, but is it right?  Even St. Janet didn't specify anything other than "silk thread".
• How does one actually do the assembly?  My assumption is:
1. Draw the pattern pieces onto the base fabric
2. Stretch base fabric on frame
3. Cut out the pattern pieces in the fashion fabric
4. For each piece, put a bunch of tow on top of it, and then the fashion fabric on top of that
5. ??? Stitch?
6. Profit! 
• But I'm not sure if one ought sew around the edges (say, just inside the seam allowance) to make a "pillow" like I did for the swatch, or just quilt away, and what the ramifications are in either case.
• And even then, how the heck do you pad the sleeves?  
• We know[3] they're assembled pre-quilting, so it can't be approached like the above method.
• So. You have to quilt a piece shaped roughly like a giant wedge of cake.  How?
• Embroidery Option #1: Lace it into a slate frame.  
• I'm pretty sure this won't work because the piece is too heavy.
• Embroidery Option #2: Tack it to a larger piece of fabric and stretch that to your frame.
• Non-starter; it would mean there's another piece of fabric on the sleeves, and there isn't.
• Quilt it without stretching it.
• I have pretty conclusively shown why that doesn't work (unless there's some magic-bullet technique I wot not of).
• Build a blanket fort and snivel in confusion.  <--- YOU ARE HERE
• The only thing I can think of is to do it on a very small frame and moving the work section frequently; but I foresee challenges in trying to tack down the parts that are already padded.  I'm not sure it will work at all.  But this is the least worst option I have come up with.

It's funny; I used to merrily plunge into things with no clue of what I was doing and deal with problems as they appeared; and after long and painful experience (both at work and personally) I finally learned to plan everything out, gather my information, line it all up, and then proceed.  So of course, now I have to un-learn all of that, and remember how to be careless again.  Wait, what?

This is the best photo of Gold
Charlie's inside that I could find

[1] I've been replaying Skyrim.  Because getting chewed on by giant bears and hacked up by deadites[2] seems like a more promising environment.  At least they *have* an environment, which we soon won't.

[2] and at least I can shoot the bad guys with my trusty bow; not a winning strategy for real life.

[3] Do we know this for certain sure?  The quilting lines really, really look like it, and it would be the natural conclusion from looking at them.  But the inside construction has never been truly studied, AFAIK; and if you've eliminated the impossible--