23 August 2020

Buckle up for a history of shoes!

Thank you to the people who reacted with enthusiasm to my mad idea! It makes me much more excited about sharing it. 

Since my last post, I more or less threw all of my plans out of the window and ended up thinking about walking in Regency clothes. And specifically, shoes. For a walk nowadays I wear hiking boots or low trainers. Made of Gore-Tex and rubber, they are waterproof, have a sole with grip, are nicely padded and have ankle support. While I could hide them under the dress, they wouldn't be in keeping with the project. For the proper experience I think the footwear is particularly important. We can imagine the sort of issues a walk in a long dress would cause - snagging, tripping, stiles etc. The shoes add other challenges, like slipping and twisting ankles. Bear in mind that if your shoe gets punctured by something, an infection could kill you!

Shoes, 1790s, black and (very faded) blue.

Shoes would have been made of leather, possibly with cloth uppers. Experiments with country dancing demonstrations on paving show that the soft leather soles of my ballet shoes did not last long. Similar experiments on grass indicate that leather dancing shoes also don't do well on wet surfaces - they're slippery and not waterproof. At least country dancing does wonders for the strength of your ankles. While the paving may have been less of an issue (no tarmac or concrete roads), Lizzy definitely encountered plenty of mud.

Buckle up for a history of shoes from the V&A archives! (all images from V&A unless otherwise indicated). Caveats here are that I'm not a historian of any fashion, I have only researched museum collections online, and that utilitarian shoes are less likely to survive than pretty ones. 

In the 1797, when Jane Austen was writing the first version of Pride and Prejudice, we have pointy toes and small heels (as opposed to big heels earlier in the century). Boots for ladies had been used for riding for a while, but now started to be used for other purposes. The American Duchess historical shoe blog seems to date their leather half-boots as accurate from 1790, and has leather Hessian-style boots for the same date. Maybe Elizabeth would have worn boots, like the ones from the Met below. 

Leather boots from 1795-1815, with pointy toes and a small heel. The Met museum


As we get into the 1800s shoes get simpler, with more rounded and later square toes and lower heels or entirely flat.  Still not something you'd go for a muddy walk in. They look more like ballet pointe shoes than a modern outdoor shoe, especially with the ribbons. Until the 1850s, this type of shoe (black or white mainly) was worn at formal occasions.  

White leather shoes worn by a bride in 1810

Yellow satin shoes with ribbons, 1820s

The good news is that at this point, boots become properly acceptable for women. They would have had leather soles and a kid leather or cotton upper. The cotton was a specific type from the Nanking region of China with a natural buff colour, and known as nankeen.

Ladies' half-boots in blue cotton

Kid (goat, not child) leather ladies' half-boots, 1815-1825

So what should I wear to best channel Lizzy on a three-mile walk to my local Netherfield? American Duchess tried to produce both leather and nankeen half-boots, but they are no longer in the collection and I suspect the shipping would have been prohibitive. I think the materials are more important to the experience than the exact style. Helpfully I seem to have found a modern 'nankeen half-boot' in high-top jazz dance shoes, with a leather sole, cotton lining and either cotton or leather upper. I will probably waterproof them with wax and possibly glue an extra leather sole on. For bonus points, they're affordable enough to potentially ruin on a muddy walk.

I totally recommend having a poke around the museum collections online, it certainly entertained me for a couple of evenings. I was absolutely astonished at how clumsy shoes look until the late 1800s.

Finally, two little asides I found in this rabbit hole: 

These mens' shoes look perfect for Mr Collins to tend to his garden in, and are some of the few examples available for men: 

A man's shoe, black with ribbon tie closure


And a pair of 2000 year old shoes that honestly would look less out of place in a modern shoe shop than most of the other shoes in this post, and clumsy-looking later examples. I have a mighty need and may buy some leather flats to embellish with gold leaf (or paint). Because clearly I don't have enough projects.

pair of surprisingly modern-looking shoes, 30BC-300AD, Egypt.


14 August 2020

Saskia makes a start...

This project is entirely different from the crafting I usually do, but I've had it in my head for a long time now. 

I've been a Pride and Prejudice (and other Jane Austen novels) fan since I first saw the 1995 BBC mini-series with Colin Firth diving into the lake. I've re-read, re-watched, visited historical places. I used to hang around on the Republic of Pemberley, on and off for years. I've also done a fair amount of reading on daily life in the Georgian era when Jane Austen lived and set her novels. 

 In the novel, Mrs Bennet tries to defend the countryside to Mr Darcy by saying they "dined with four-and-twenty families in this neighbourhood"

In 2016, we moved to the countryside in England. There are houses here that still look like they did in 1800. We're surrouned by places called Such-and-such House and Somewhere Court and Grand Old Hall. So, logically, I started wondering: Definitely a Grand Old Hall

Who were Mrs Bennet's "four and twenty families"? 

Let's find out. Do some experimental history.

Starting with some disclaimers:

  • Not a historian. I'm a scientist, I'm used to Finding Stuff Out, but I've not been formally trained in historical research, dating buildings etc.
  • I'm in Worcestershire/Warwickshire, not Hertfordshire. Big Assumption One is that they would have been sufficiently similar at the time, and I could probably make a case for Hertfordshire having changed more in the intervening period because of its proximity to London, but I'm not going to bother. I will attempt to identify the houses where people suitable for the Bennet's to interact with would have lived.
  • COVID. I may not be able to access certain things/places for now. 
  • There is no timeline, this is a hobby. The whole thing may get abandoned, but interactions may help keep me motivated. 

Like all the best projects this one immediately grew several heads for every head I cut off. Or possibly tentacles. Index as follows:

  • I will start with an analysis of the characters mentioned in Pride and Prejudice and their social circles. There will probably be diagrams.
  • We'll discuss what 'genteel' is. I may pull in information from the other novels for this one because there is a wider range of examples. More diagrams. 
  • I will try to identify the houses in our "neighbourhood" and see which would have been considered "genteel enough". There may be maps, and more diagrams, and possibly diagrams on maps! 
  • I will attempt a 3-mile walk in my Regency dress at some point. It may not survive this.

I will try to remember to link the individual parts of the project in this post as I write them, and add other parts as they come up, but no promises!

Saskia makes pocketses!

What has it got in its pocketses? Well the way the Establishment makes them, you'd be lucky to fit the One Ring, let alone an actual mobile phone. When I had the awful combination of a new (bigger) phone, and a different brand of jeans, there was suddenly no compatibility. I can't go running around the lab with a handbag, so what is a modern woman to do?
pocket only just big enough for the one ring

Stick it to the Establishment, the Fashion Industry, and the Patriarchy, that's what.

So here is a guide to extending a pocket in existing jeans. Disclaimer: I will not be held responsible for ruined


jeans, lost possessions, or sudden feelings of freedom.

What you'll need: 
1 pair of jeans
1 piece of fabric for your new pocket
Needles, thread etc.
Sewing machine optional, it's only little, and I'm not convinced the fiddling to get it under the presser foot saves any time compared to hand-sewing.

Step 1: Measure the old pocket. 
What we're attempting to do is the least possible amount of undoing good sturdy industrial sewing. So we're extending the existing pocket to make it fit the phone, with a bag the same width as the existing pocket.


Step 2: Cut fabric, sew into a tube
I made the new pocket deep enough to fit my entire hand. The bottom is about halfway down my thigh. I used a French seam for sturdiness and hiding raw edges. In short: sew wrong sides together, which in this case are the right sides because you want the inside of the pocket to be the pretty bit*. Then cut the fabric very close to the seam, and turn the whole thing inside out. Now sew along the edge you've just sewn, and eh presto, French seam.

* Yup, good luck working that out. I've got a headache just thinking about it. I suggest much pinning and turning.

Step 3: Cut the bottom seam off the existing pocket. 
The scary bit: no going back after this! Cut as close to the edge as possible to have some room for the seams. I did this on brand-new jeans too!

Step 4: Attach the new pocket tube
I didn't french seam this but I should have. The one I did six months ago is still holding out, though, so it will probably be OK. Line up the new-pocket-tube and the open bottom of the existing pocket and sew together.
new pocket sewn on

Step 5: Decide how deep your pocket should be and sew up the bottom 
I French seamed this one again, so stuff wouldn't catch on fraying edges.

Step 6: Hands-free whatever you want to do!
I only did the left pocket because that's where I like to put my phone. The right one just about holds my keys as is, and I don't want those any lower.