Medieval Winter

Last week we had cold and snow all over Sweden, even here in the south, where winter more often than not mean a damp and chilly wind that quickly seeps into your very bones in a way that dry, frozen cold don’t. It was perfect weather for taking pictures of your historical winter clothes, if you had them. I didn’t, but I never got good pictures of the green kyrtilI made for Tobias a few years ago. 

When he got dressed our four year old said he wanted clothes like that too when we went out. I hadn’t planned for that, not wanting to force my hobby on him more than necessary, but I’m not one to say no when he requests it himself. 

Wearing two wool kyrtils, a buttoned wool hood, woollen nalbound socks and mittens (really little brother’s socks) he was ready to face winter with his dad. 

 We don’t have all that much in the way of medieval looking nature where we live, so we had to make do with what little there is: a small copse and a corner of the playground.

Tobias commented that there were a lot of green in their clothes - and there is too much, really. The child’s kyrtil is made from the leftover fabric from his hose, and that his buttoned kyrtil is also green is just bad luck. He wore two kyrtils, a pair of hose with nalbound socks over them, a hood and a cap, all in wool. A belt, purse and shoes were the finishing touches.

It’s interesting how clothes you were very proud of when you made them looks a bit meh a few years later, when you’ve deepened your knowledge and raised your own standards. I’d really want to make Tobias a whole new wardrobe, but time and money is a factor as always, so it will have to happen little by little. None of it is bad; I just have higher demands on our stuff now, and likely will have again in a few years. It's the good and bad of this hobby.

 

 After a quick photoshoot and some sledding for the children, we went home. 

 

The snow is gone now, and today it almost feels like spring, even if that is still several weeks away. Hopefully we’ll be able to attend a weekend event or two this summer. We’d also love to go to the 25 year anniversary of Middelaldercentret, so fingers crossed that it works out!

14th Century Kirtle Makeover

I’ve been meaning to give my maroon kirtle a makeover for a long time. I wanted long sleeves, instead of the short ones. As so often happens, it didn’t get done until just before the event, when I realised that, due to breastfeeding related reasons, my yellow kirtle just would not close. Something I'd only wished to do now became absolutely necessary.  I removed the short sleeves just a few days before the event, cut out new ones, and began to stitch as fast as I could. 

But then I decided I wanted quite a few buttons – the quality and colour of the fabric is really rather nice, so I might as well give it the most fashionable trait of the century. 

I made twenty-four small (less than a centimetre in diameter) cloth buttons, a round dozen for each sleeve. Here’s an illustration of the whole progress of button making.

When we went to the event I still had a few button holes left to sew, which I did when only the one-year-old and myself were awake of all the camp.

I had pictures taken by Andrea, and as I planned to submit the made over dress to the manuscript challenge, I did my best to imitate the inspiration image. The veil is a bit too long, but it will have to do. In the inspiration image you can't see the front of her dress, nor if there are any buttons on the sleeves. Most likely the dress is one that pulls on over the head, but as you can't tell for sure, I call it good anyway. Same with the sleeves.

Stained glass window of Adam and Eve working. It was made in the late 14^th century, 

and was originally from Marienkirche, Frankfurt an der Oder, Germany, 

but after WWII it was taken by the Soviet Union and is now in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg.

 
Though I forgot which way she was turned, I still think it ended up rather nice. Thanks to Vix for lending me her distaff and spindle. I'm afraid I made a mess of her work. I'm a decent enough spinner on a beginner's level, but I haven't figured out how to work with the distaff yet.

I am a bit disappointed that I didn’t get the greyish-blue kyrtil made for hubby, but sometimes life does not co-operate. I did achieve half the challenge anyway.

14th Century Child's Shoes

Now I’m back from the medieval event, and it will be mentioned in a few posts, as I didn’t have time before to blog about all the things I made for it. If you want to see pictures now, you can go to my groups Facebook page.

My one year old could use his brother’s old shoes, though being a wee bit too large, but my three year old needed new ones. I have been to this event before, and know the terrain. Though our usual camp spot is grassy and pleasant, you have to walk on both cobblestones and gravel to reach the bathrooms. Also, there’s no knowing what the weather will be like, not to mention the possible danger of sharp objects. So I had to make him shoes.

 His old shoes were boots, which were secure enough to stay put even on small toddler feet, but now he’s old enough not to kick of his shoes by accident. I decided to make him a small version of the Bocksten Bog man’s shoes, dated to the 14^th century. It’s a model I’ve made before, so I had an idea about how the pattern pieces should look. Now, I’m decidedly not a shoemaker, so if you are proficient at this, brace yourself. If you have any handy advice, please share. I hope to become a decent shoemaker sometime in future.

First I traced his foot on a piece of paper, and then used that to draw a sole. I drew an upper to. I made a mock-up from them - too small. The second attempt, seen here, worked well, with minor alterations.

And this was the final pattern.

 I used leather I had at home, 1 millimetre for the uppers, and 2 millimetres for the soles.

I put a welt between the sole and upper as I sewed, for strength and durability.

I also stitched a piece of leather to support the back of the shoe. Not puncturing the right side of the leather uppers was tricky, but I only messed up once.

Medieval shoes were really sewn on a last, like this one (number 5) for a child’s shoe in Malmö Museer, but I’m not there yet. I’m terrible with woodwork.

 

 I did try one thing to get closer to historical accuracy though: I did not use needles when sewing. In period, the waxed linen thread was twisted round a bristle, but as I don’t have any, I used fishing line instead, as advised by Sofia and Henrik. It took a bit of practice – at first it wouldn’t work at all, but after more advice and practice, it worked quite well, and I can see it working excellently with more practice.

In short, and to my understanding, this is how it works: you take your linen thread, and unravel the ends a bit, and pluck at the ends to make them uneven. You wax the thread, and twist it, with its unravelled ends, round the fishing line, which has been sandpapered for friction. The plucked, uneven ends of the thread makes the transition from thread to line smooth, and will slide through the holes made by the awl easy enough. This makes for smaller holes than a doubled thread and needle would require, and in shoes, this is a good thing.

 I believe that to be more accurate, I should have let the holes in the soles be at an angle, from inside to the side of the sole, instead of straight trough from inside to outside, but I decided one new thing was enough for his project, for which I had some time pressure. I’m keen to try to make angled stitches though, they make for a much smoother and more elegant result.

After sewing was finished, I dipped the shoes in water to make them more flexible (of course the shoes were also wet when I stitched them), and then turned them, letting them dry with rolled up pieces of terry cloth in them to keep their shape. I then greased the shoes (which darkened them a lot – rather nice, I think), added laces, and they were ready to go. 

 They were finished before the deadline of the HSM challenge #6 – Out of Your Comfort Zone.

The Challenge: # 6 - Out of Your Comfort Zone

Fabric: 1 millimetre leather for the uppers, 2 millimetre for the soles.

Pattern: Drafted and draped my own, based on period shoes.

Year: 14^th century

Notions: Linen thread.

How historically accurate is it? OK, I suppose – I don’t think it would stand out too much if sent back in time, though likely seen as the early work of an apprentice. There are a couple of period techniques that I did not use, and of course that affect the result. Still, one point to me for giving up sewing with needles!

Hours to complete: Not sure, possibly about 20.

First worn: At a medieval event last weekend.

Total cost: Not sure how much it would have been if the materials were bought new, but at this time it didn’t cost me anything, as everything was in my stash.

A Child's Green Kyrtle

If all goes well we’ll be attending a weekend event in a month, and as always, growing kids need new clothes. B, now tree years old, can wear the blue kyrtle, though it’s a tad too short for him. But evenings tend to get cold even in the summer, there is always a risk of rain, and our usual camping place at this event is high up on a frequently windy spot, close to the sea, so having the possibility to add an additional wool layer is vital. Kyrtles are much more practical than cloaks for children at play, and as he’ll need a larger one soon anyway, I made him one from green wool, left over from hubby’shose.

Quite long now, just clearing the ground. 

That did not prevent any walking or playing though.

I made the kyrtle wide and long enough for B to still be able to wear it in both two and three years’ time. At the moment it just clears the floor, and the sleeves must be folded back twice, but in a couple of years, the sleeves will fit nicely, and the kyrtle will reach to about just below the knees, a good length for a boy that will be wearing men’s clothes, and not those of small children, as he does now. 

 The whole kyrtle was made from this piece, about 150x75 cm, here seen on the fold.

The kyrtle is constructed from to main pieces, with two side gores that reach to, and becomes part of, the shaped armscye. A gore is also set in at centre front and back. This construction is found in several extant kyrtles called “Nockert type 2”.

The sleeves are so called S-sleeves, with a gusset set in at the seam at the back of the sleeve. If need be, I can open up the bottom of the sleeves later and add buttoned closures.

  

I needed to piece the sleeves a bit to get a kyrtle from the material I had, but that is perfectly period. It does mean that they took a bit more time to make than if made from one piece, but what you gain in one end you pay for in another.

I lined the top portion with a soft linen fabric, as I usually do on my young children’s kyrtils, to prevent any itching or chafing that might happen if the shirt worn underneath slips a bit. Not perfectly period, but it won’t show, and it’s a cheat I’m willing to make, as it’s not my children’s hobby - they just tag along.

The kyrtil closes at the neck with seven self-fabric buttons and buttonholes. 

I sewed the buttonholes one after another, with the thread lying loose between them, as seen in extant examples. It is a very fast and practical way to sew buttonholes, not having to fasten the thread after every one, or letting it travel between the layers of cloth, though perhaps not the prettiest look…

All sewing is done by hand with waxed linen thread, using stitches found in extant medieval clothing. 

One of the gores, sewn into front and back.

 The seam allowances and hems are rather narrow, ranging between 5-7 millimetres. 

 

 I submit this as a HSM challenge, though it’s more than a week late - the whole family got ill, so time and energy for sewing was a bit limited there for a while.

  

The Challenge: #5 Practicality

Fabric: Melton wool.

Pattern: My own, based on period kyrtles.

Year: Roughly late 1300’s.

Notions: Linen thread.

How historically accurate is it? Decently – I don’t think it would stand out too much if sent back in time. Though the cloth name Melton didn’t show up until 1823, the quality existed during the Middle Ages - mine is machine woven though. The colour is OK for the period, but artificially dyed. The stitches are all period, as is the construction.

Hours to complete: Abut 15, including piecing the sleeves.

First worn: For the pictures.

Total cost: If bought new, the material would cost about 150 SEK ($18; £11,8; €16), but everything was in my stash. 

And terminology.... I've used to call this type of garment a cote in English, but I rather like the word kyrtle, as it's closer to the Swedish kjortel. Is there a difference, or are they just different words to describe the same thing? I wonder...

 References:

Crowfoot, E. Pritchard, F. & Stainland, K. (2001). Textiles and Clothing c.1150-c.1450. Bury St Edmunds: Museum of London.

Nockert, M. (1985). Bockstenmannen, Och Hans Dräkt. Halmstad och Varberg: Stiftelsen Hallands länsmuseer.

Østergård, E. (2004). Woven Into the Earth. Denmark: Aarhus University Press.

Medieval Toddler's Shirt

This post is horribly late, as I got a new laptop and transferring everything from the old one, and getting to know this new one, took a while. Picture editing in particular was different, and a bit challenging. The shirt was finished in time for the HSM Stashbusting challenge though.

This is a shirt I cut out, intending my youngest brother (11 years old now – that says something about how long it’s been sitting in my stash) to wear it, but that never happened. It didn't get sewn until now, for my three year old to use.

The fabric is unbleached, medium weight linen. It’s cut in geometrical shapes, as was usual with body linens. 

 

 In shirts for babies and toddlers I like to make a slit in the front neckline, as it makes it possible to put over relatively large heads, and still have the shirts sit high enough on the shoulders to provide protection from the elements. You can sometimes see this in period art as well, though a simple neckline seem far more common by the late 1300's.

All sewing is done by hand, using waxed linen thread and period stitches. I made the felled seams and hems rather small, no wider than 5 millimetres, as that is seen in period clothing. 

  

And that’s all I have to say about this really. Not a very exciting project, but you can never have too many shirts…

The Challenge: #3 Stashbusting

Fabric: Linen

Pattern: None, I just measured and cut

Year: Generic medieval, intended for late 14^th century

Notions: Linen thread

How historically accurate is it? Rather much. The fabric could have been more densely woven, but the material and stitching is good.

Hours to complete: Not sure, I only got a few minutes here and there to work on it, so keeping track of the time was tricky.

First worn: For the pictures

Total cost: None at this time as everything was in my stash.

A Toddler's 14th Century Cotte

Today I finished my first medieval project (I think) in two years! Two summers ago I did a lot of sewing, as we intended to attend events with our group. Those plans fell through due to illness and other things, and in the wake of the disappointment I lost all taste for making medieval clothes. Last year I didn’t make anything, as we, due to little H being born at the beginning of the season, didn’t plan to attend any events. This summer though, we hope to attend at least one weekend event – fingers crossed!

Two years ago I made a toddler’s cotte for B. As always with the children’s historical clothes I made it a bit too large, which I’m very happy about now as he never really got to use it then. Yesterday I took it out and found that, after letting down the wide double hem, it would still fit him, though now being a tad on the short side. The sleeves had only been folded back before, but now I hemmed them too.

The cotte is made from the left over fabric of Tobias’s cotehardie (from which I have also made myself a pair of hose – the whole family wears clothes from the same fabrics…), a nice, lightly fulled wool. It’s in a style called “Nockert type 5”. This style is slightly too early for us really, but as it’s used in a small child’s garment – that often looks very simple in this period – I think it’s acceptable. Besides, it was the only way I could use the fabric I had in an efficient way.

I’ve sewed it with waxed linen thread, mixing running stitches and back stitches. All seams are felled. The single folded hems are stitched with double rows of running stitches that show as small dots on the right side. 

The neck and shoulders are lined with linen (pieced in a couple of places), to prevent itching – my boy has sensitive skin. 

The cotte closes in front with self fabric buttons and buttonholes.

B likes it – when he tried it on yesterday he kept it on for more than an hour, and he was happy to have pictures taken of it today. He wore it over a linen shirt (that I also let down the hems on), modern clothes – it’s still winter after all, and I don’t have enough warm medieval children’s clothes to keep the chill out - and the hood I made him when he was a baby.

  

I’m so happy to have found my way back to sewing medieval things again. There will be more to come, I’m sure!

References:

Crowfoot, E. Pritchard, F. & Stainland, K. (2001). Textiles and Clothing c.1150-c.1450. Bury St Edmunds: Museum of London.

Nockert, M. (1985). Bockstenmannen Och Hans Dräkt. Halmstad och Varberg: Stiftelsen Hallands länsmuseer.

14th Century Clothing for Pregnancy, Motherhood and Infancy

When the last week before my due date was coming up I thought it would be fun to see if my ordinary yellow kirtle could still be worn. It could, after a fashion. Laced loosely, and hitched up over the bump it worked well. It did look quite a bit like some medieval images of heavily pregnant women.

Four years ago to the left - before marriage and children.

A week before the due date of my second baby to the right.

 

While I was at it I thought I might as well take a few pictures, so I improvised a tolerably 14^th century looking (or at least neutral) corner in our bedroom. I did the same thing all over again a week after our second son was born (Announcement!), now with both my little ones as models as well. Baby didn’t mind being swaddled at all – the fact that he slept through the whole thing might possibly have had something to do with that. How he would like it when awake I can’t tell. B liked his cotte that he never got round to wearing last year, as all our events were cancelled. This year we haven’t even planned any, what with the baby being so little and all.

Anyway, here are some of the pictures, telling the story of a heavily pregnant, late 14^th century woman, the beginnings of her labour, the quiet time after baby’s arrival, and her being back on her feet. 

The skirt is quite a bit shorter in front as it's hitched 
up over the bump, but the dress is still quite wearable.

Ready when you are - come out baby!

Baby is wearing a linen coif, swaddled in one of my linen veils, wich is secured by wool tapes. 

The "14th century bedroom", with a baby on the bed.

Mother of two, the older one wearing a long cotte, the little one swaddled.

Mum is wearing the same old dress...

I had wished to have done something more, like being in a real location, having my friends pose as helpers, like in so many medieval illustrations of childbirth, but this was better than nothing. I call it a study of taking tolerable pictures of ones historical clothes, without any location and hardly any props.

Our youngest son is so far an easy baby to care for. He's a dear, and fits well in our family. I can't help but kiss him all the time. The labour and delivery was easier than the first time, and well functioning breast feeding has been established much quicker. Having two children to love and care for is a true gift. Tobias and I have been greatly blessed.

Pre-Raphaelite Medieval-ish Dress

Many years ago, at the beginning of my living history days, I made a dress inspired by medieval ones. Well, it was quite a bit inspired by pre-Raphaelite and fantasy takes on the Middle Ages as well – it was made to be used at the premiere of The Return of the King after all.

It is an interesting mix of period construction (wool fabric; more or less straight panels for the front and back with all shaping in the side and back seams; width given by set in gores; hand stitching; hand made eyelets; felled seams) and not so period elements (a combination of cotton and linen thread; embroidery on a dress style that usually had none, with the embroidery design inspired from the margin of a manuscript – and made in linen, and, what irks me most; cross lacing at the back) that reflects the stage I was at then, having gained some knowledge, but still letting myself be way too influenced by make believe. Still, it’s a very pretty dress I think, worthy of a bit of recognition.

Even when the dress was new the sleeves were a bit too tight, making bending the arms uncomfortable. Several years ago I took them of intending to make them wider, but never got round to it. Now, finally, I made the changes by putting in a gusset in each sleeve seam – luckily I had some of the dress fabric left. Thus, this UFO/Make Do and Mend-dress was done in good time for the Fairytale challenge of the Historical Sew Fortnightly. 

The dress is still too small for me (my figure has changed quite a bit since becoming a mother) so I plan to sell the dress to someone who might give it a proper life – there are some very high quality LARPs and LARPers here in Sweden, and this dress might be perfect in a fantasy lady’s wardrobe. 

It is modelled by my cousin M, for whose help I’m very grateful, as I never had decent pictures of the dress before. 

We were both pleased with how her hair came out as well (especially the fact that her fringe did not show at all) – not very medieval to be sure, but good for the “1911-goes-medieval-Sleeping-Beauty”or pre-Raphaelite look I had in mind. 

The Challenge: #6 Fairytale

Fabric: Wool

Pattern: none, draped my own

Year: “1911 goes medieval” 

Notions: Cotton and linen thread

How historically accurate is it? As a medieval-ish dress – not very much as it’s a blend of period and fantasy. As a 1911 try at medieval – too period correct; it would probably have been constructed differently at that time.

Hours to complete: For the changes I made, maybe two or three?

First worn: Since changed - for the pictures

Total cost: none at this time as everything was in my stash