Today on History Undressed, we have a special guest author, Marjorie Gilbert who is going to take us through the making of an empire gown!
Without further ado...
Because I am a fan of Jane Austen, I thought I would be a fun project to make an Empire gown using Janet Arnold’s book Patterns of Fashion 2: Englishwomen's Dresses and Their Construction, C. 1660 – 1860. I had already made a Spenser from the book that was from the same era, so I thought the project would be fairly easy.
Here’s picture of the gown as it appears in the book:
Once I got that down, I began putting together the bodice. 
I added the sleeves,
Without further ado...
Because I am a fan of Jane Austen, I thought I would be a fun project to make an Empire gown using Janet Arnold’s book Patterns of Fashion 2: Englishwomen's Dresses and Their Construction, C. 1660 – 1860. I had already made a Spenser from the book that was from the same era, so I thought the project would be fairly easy.
Here’s picture of the gown as it appears in the book:
Here’s the pattern: a line drawing on graph paper in which every square equals an inch. 
For some reason the words, circa 1798 to 1805, did not have the proper resonance they should have. The first time I made the gown, I followed the pattern exactly, making the pattern pieces that same size as drawn. And, when I tried on the bodice, I found that it was far too small. In fact, I could not move my arms, rather like the Randy in the Christmas Story.
I had to make the bodice bigger. But here’s the thing: I’m not a trained costumer, and I’ve never sized up patterns for myself. I’ve only worked with patterns someone else has kindly sized for me, like the nice people at Simplicity, McCalls, or Folkwear. This was challenging, to say the least.
My second go-round was better, in that the bodice was bigger. However, the bodice didn’t fit properly and concealed rather revealed. Well, half concealed and half revealed—in any case it was embarrassing.
Here’s the three stages of the patterns. As you can see, the bodice back grows larger and larger along the bottom of the picture.
The third time around I decided to take no chances, and made a mock-up of the back, sizing up the pattern each time until I got it right.
For some reason the words, circa 1798 to 1805, did not have the proper resonance they should have. The first time I made the gown, I followed the pattern exactly, making the pattern pieces that same size as drawn. And, when I tried on the bodice, I found that it was far too small. In fact, I could not move my arms, rather like the Randy in the Christmas Story.
I had to make the bodice bigger. But here’s the thing: I’m not a trained costumer, and I’ve never sized up patterns for myself. I’ve only worked with patterns someone else has kindly sized for me, like the nice people at Simplicity, McCalls, or Folkwear. This was challenging, to say the least.
My second go-round was better, in that the bodice was bigger. However, the bodice didn’t fit properly and concealed rather revealed. Well, half concealed and half revealed—in any case it was embarrassing.
Here’s the three stages of the patterns. As you can see, the bodice back grows larger and larger along the bottom of the picture.
The third time around I decided to take no chances, and made a mock-up of the back, sizing up the pattern each time until I got it right.
Once I got that down, I began putting together the bodice. I added the sleeves,
and added the skirt.
One of the big issues was trying to choose the fabric for the bodice. In the book, the fabric is described as having purple fluer de lise on a white ground. The closest I could find was slate flowers on an off-white ground. I tried to disguise the off-whiteness by edging the bodice piece with blue edging. That backfired. The fact that I misread the pattern and made the edging an inch wide did not help either. I managed to create something that resembled the black bars one sees on COPS when someone has forgotten his or her clothing. Dramatic? Yes. Period? Well...
Oh, yeah. I made two of them because, well, I plead the fifth.
My second choice was far better: an off-white jacquard pattern on a white ground.
The final result, three tries later? Well, judge for yourself…
My next project? Make a chemise and petticoat to go along with the Regency stays I made to go with the dress…but not yet…
Marjorie Gilbert is author of The Return, a novel set in Georgian England.
Check out her website at www.marjoriegilbert.net.
One of the big issues was trying to choose the fabric for the bodice. In the book, the fabric is described as having purple fluer de lise on a white ground. The closest I could find was slate flowers on an off-white ground. I tried to disguise the off-whiteness by edging the bodice piece with blue edging. That backfired. The fact that I misread the pattern and made the edging an inch wide did not help either. I managed to create something that resembled the black bars one sees on COPS when someone has forgotten his or her clothing. Dramatic? Yes. Period? Well...
Oh, yeah. I made two of them because, well, I plead the fifth.My second choice was far better: an off-white jacquard pattern on a white ground.
The final result, three tries later? Well, judge for yourself…
My next project? Make a chemise and petticoat to go along with the Regency stays I made to go with the dress…but not yet…Marjorie Gilbert is author of The Return, a novel set in Georgian England.
Check out her website at www.marjoriegilbert.net.
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