Casual Picnic

More old pictures... we had a nice casual picnic and I brought out a new parasol. I like the blue flowers on white fabric. I also threw on a cream 1920s dress that I wear a lot (the one from TJ Maxx, isn't that insane?) and the sunglasses that I got to go with my knitted bathing suit. Plus a scarf in the hair, which I hope still looks 1920s and doesn't fling me into more modern territory...

Nice casual picnic. I made bread and nothing else... good planning

This duck had NO fear. But it also came to no harm, so I guess it will never learn. We named her Esme.

We really did play Mah Jong. I've figured it out! Enough for us to play, anyway.

The outfit

Oh man, I love the Boston Public Gardens. Best place ever for casual picnicking

Knitted Bathing Suit

About a year ago, I started knitting a 1920s bathing suit. There have been ever so many summery 1920s events popping up, I was on a run of good knitting projects, and I was feeling crazy. Then I never actually got a chance to wear it, so I never was inspired to do the tedious finishing work of weaving in ends. But FINALLY, I have worn the suit. Into the ocean, no less. Check it out!

FINALLY! There it is... and yes, I had to find an orange parasol to go with it. Also be sure to check out my rolled stockings (subtle, but such a 1920s thing), silly sunglasses, and matching knitted diagonal stripe headband.

The pattern comes from a collection called "A Stitch in Time" by Susan Crawford, which is full of fun patterns that date to the early 20th century, with updated instructions and inspiring glossy pictures. In fact, I loved the look of this bathing suit in orange and cream so much in the book that I used the same color scheme myself.

For yarn, I used Patons Grace (I think the colors were fiesta and natural?). This is a 100% cotton yarn, as suggested by the pattern. It was gorgeous and easy to work with, but at some point I had a realization - cotton yarn usually gets sold so that people can make dishclothes. So fundamentally, I decided to wear a giant homemade dishcloth into the sea? Awesome plan. As soon as I hit the ocean, it absorbed a lot of water and got quite heavy. After wearing it for a little while it was definitely sagging. I was wearing a modern swimsuit underneath for support (in the final analysis the suit was a little too big on me, even dry, and I had decided against the arguably more historically accurate "floppy boob" look). This turned out to be lucky, or things could have gotten VERY racy. If you really bother to look up the pattern, you'll realize that it's worn backwards from the original knitting instructions (which were for a high fronted,v-backed, technically 1930s suit), but like the author/photographer/someone for the modern pattern book I agreed that it looked better with the v in the front. And since I was wearing it for 20s instead of 30s anyway, the low-back look wasn't the look I was going for. But yes - I couldn't have pulled this off without some kind of foundation to prevent wardrobe malfunctions.

With that all said, it totally worked. You can wear a hand-knit cotton bathing suit into the water. I even did a pretty great job floating in the super-salty water (I can't actually swim...). It's a weird experience, and it takes FOREVER to dry when you're done (think days, not hours), but it works. I wonder how the experience would differ if I'd used wool yarn? But that's a project for another day.

Parasol Pockets Part 2

I was going to post about something completely different, but I got some insightful comments followed by a really astounding email from Gemma, full of fashion plates from The Englishwoman's Domestic Magazine. Even though she did all the work of finding these, I just had to pass them on. While you're looking them over, consider the evidence. A lot of these are very short for a parasol, it seems that non-triangular shaped pockets appear in similar contexts, and nowhere are these referred to as parasol pockets. On the other hand, the 1870s is a good time period for tiny accessories so we might be talking about short parasols, the existence of non-triangular pockets does not mean they were used for the same thing, and we could still be missing some perfect example of the parasol pocket in action. Still, this could just have been a fashion for impractically shaped pockets (some of them are kind of deep to be so narrow, don't you think?), and it would not be the first time a museum made something up that seemed cute and plausible. Ask my mother about Civil War Tear-catchers some time. On to the evidence!

January 1876: There is definitely a pocket there (under the second bow), but it is not one of the triangular ones.

January 1876: This does look like a triangular pocket, though most of it is hidden under a bow. No parasol in sight.

January 1876: The woman on the left has a square pocket with fringe in the place I might expect one of these triangular pockets.

May 1876: The woman on the right has a shallow triangular pocket.

May 1876: Both of these women have triangular pockets. Neither has a parasol.

July 1876: A lot of triangular pocket designs!

July 1876: But no mention of a "parasol pocket"...

August 1876: The woman on the left has a triangular pocket.

August 1876: A deep triangular pocket AND a tiny fashionable parasol. Is this good news?

August 1876: Maybe that wasn't such great news. The woman on the left has a cute little parasol, but a not-very-triangular pocket.

August 1876: Another triangular-ish pocket on the right.

August 1876: Two triangular pockets, no parasols. Hmmm.

September 1876: No way is that long parasol fitting comfortably in that short pocket.

September 1876: Again, that is a really long parasol for a relatively short (though quite triangular) pocket.

September 1876: Another pocket.

October 1876: Another pocket, woman on the right.

October 1876: Yet another pocket, woman on the right.

November 1876: This could practically be an unattached pocket, something worn slung over the skirt like a purse on a belt. But more likely it is a decorative feature and just another triangular skirt pocket.

November 1876: Another pocket with a bow!

November 1876: The woman on the right has a subtle but long pocket.

November 1876: Another pocket. It is triangular. I'm getting less insightful as this goes on...

March 1877: A very square and not triangular pocket. Interesting.

March 1877: A very deep triangular pocket, of the type I might actually comfortably put a parasol in. I would not want to go fishing for small objects in that, though.

March 1877: A probably triangular pocket on the left, but a square one on the right.

March 1877: One more triangular pocket, on the woman on the right.

Parasol Pockets

So, I've noticed this thing about 1870s dresses. Sometimes they have a hilarious little triangular pocket. A parasol pocket? You tell me. I haven't found any contemporary mentions of such a thing, nor any paintings of a woman with an actual parasol in such a pocket. On the other hand, they appear to be a recurring theme in original garments. Is this absolutely inspired, or kind of dumb? You decide!

A 9-Strut Regency Umbrella

As soon as I say something, I must revise it. I stand by what I said before, actually, that a 7-strutted parasol was odd and surprising to me. I will maintain that 8 or 6 is what I see the most, so it is reasonable to wonder if an a-typical number of struts and segments might not be an artistic issue rather than an actual phenomenon. But here is a physical object rather than a drawing - an umbrella (not totally the same thing, but close cousin of the parasol), sold by August Auctions here. They dated it to 1790-1810. Here is the description and the pictures, but pay special attention to the picture of the inside, where you can see the struts. Count them. I see nine, an odd and unusual number. Isn't that fascinating?


"Umbrella with dark blue-green cotton cover, striped with beige around edges, ivory or bone points, metal framing, baleen canopy ribs, tortoise colored crooked handle, possibly horn, brass cylindrical slide and tip, stenciled green and tan cotton drawstring case, (small dents in brass, minor stains and wear to wood handle) excellent."

7-Segmented Parasol?

This is an 1801 engraving. Count carefully... her parasol has seven segments and seven struts. I am assuming that this is an artistic issue - I have never seen an uneven parasol. I see a lot with 8 struts, a lot with 6 struts, the occasional one with 4 struts (though not, in my experience, this early in the century). Artistic idiosyncrasy or unusual parasol - either way it is funky and interesting. Also, while we're at it, check out the beautiful back on the top engraving. So pretty!

The Parasol Fan

Parafan? Fanisol? I don't know, but I want one. It belongs, like most things I want, to the Metropolitan Costume Institute. They have dated it to "the third quarter of the 19th century." Good enough for me. There is no written description, but it looks pretty brilliantly straightforward to me. You carry around this thing that looks like a fan, but it swings open 360 degrees (must fasten open somehow). Then at the pivot point there is a stick on a hinge, which you straighten out (and again this must somehow get fixed in place). Voila, a traveling parasol. It is just too clever. I need to make one of these!

Formal Tea at Linden Place

For a spiffy afternoon event, check out these pictures of Wednesday's Formal Tea at Linden Place. Also, we had a trolley drive us from the school to the place. Neat. I wore my (newly completely ruffled!) lavender and white striped trained skirt, and a new hat. Julia wore a matching hat, and mother made her a brand new and super amazing pink eyelet skirt, all coated in tucks and pleats and lovely details. It is really super spiffy. While you look at the pictures, be sure to note my strange hobby of jumping into low trees while wearing trained skirts (Look! It's me in a tree!), and the cute boar statue. I liked him.