A Bone to Pick.... (Herringbone Stitch Demo)

The "Herringbone Stitch" is quite possibly the second most useful stitch in the book, right after the running stitch. It's used as a decorative embroidery stitch and a constuction stitch and sometimes both. The Herringbone's raison d'être is to join two pieces of fabric together in a manner in which allows them to lay flat, but may easily be parted when the need presents. This is why it's used so often for linings and hems


1.) Working left to right (if you're right-handed anyway, if you're a southpaw, do all of this backward, sorry.) start with a backstitch, down and up through the top fabric (white). Pull the thread diagonally to a position ahead of the starting point and make another stitch in the bottom fabric (black) returning to a point just in back of the starting knot...


2.) Pull your thread forward and up so that it forms an uneven "X", as shown, and take another bite of the top fabric (white), backstitching as before...


3.) Up and another "X", coming down to the bottom fabric and backstitch again...



4.) Repeat and repeat and repeat, keeping stitches even and thread tension consistant so that you form a row of little overlapping X's on one side...

5.) ...and a row of offset stitches on the obverse side. (NOTE: when you are stitching a lining into a doublet as I will be doing, these stitches do not show on the outside of the garment.)

This is what they look like - as applied to a garment - in this case, my Medici doublet...

Inside front. The button hole placket folded back and sewn to the lining.

Green damask collar lining joined to the body lining of the doublet.

Making an Ass of Myself

Just for the heck of it...

In period, fools usually wore hoods adorned with asses ears and/or coxcombs as well as the more usual bells and the like. Based partially on the painting "The Bean King" (Background, viewer's left).

(Yes, I know it's 17th century, mostly I chose the colours from the fool's hood in this painting and ignored the rest) and partly from the engravings of the book Ship of Fools (Stultifera Navis by Sebastian Brant) I concocted a hood for myself...


It's made from plum and camel coloured wool with a coarse woven raw silk lining. The buttons are actually bells. I wanted to be able to take it off without removing my mask, hence the choice to include buttons.

Collaring (Redux)

So... it's a few years on, and here I am, back at that finicky collar again. I just can't leave it alone. I was amused recently to read the notes for Margo Anderson's 'Gentleman's' doublet pattern and find that she too had the problem with the pucker and from her research so did the period tailor. I have no footnote for that last part, but it certainly makes me feel better!

It's the 'grown-on' collar (as the Tudor Tailor ladies call it) that is a collar cut-in-a-piece with the body pieces of the doublet (and frequently cussed-in-a-piece for good measure). My troubles last time I messed with this consarn thing led me back to my original source for this, The Tailor's Pattern Book by Juan de Alcega. Alcega pretty clearly lays out the pieces I've drafted for my doublets for years now. Front, side, back, curved sleeves and... wait a minute... a curved collar!? (far right, top row)

Odd. I've never noticed that before. Going back through the men's renaissance clothing patterns I have in my library, neither does anyone else. All of the patterns I've reviewed have the collars either entirely separate, or the front pieces are cut from straight rectangles...

So maybe that's the secret? It stands to reason that the off-square piece would be easier to ease into the curve of the neck and account for issues as they crop up.

Final Thoughts Before Sewing...

1. I decided to go with the patterned white velvet I showed a picture of earlier. I liked it better than any of the others I looked at.
   
2. I did an informal pole on one of the costuming sites over at Tribe.net and overwhelmingly people expressed a preference for hand-sewing only when it would be glaringly obvious if it wasn't or they couldn't avoid it. So for the record, I'm aiming for the happy meeting between hidden machine stitching and visible hand-stitching.
   
3. I'm going to figure out that damn collar or I'm gonna quit show business.

So it begins...
Using the hotrod, the body of the doublet goes together quickly... all nice long seams.

After messing with this &$@% cotton velvet for a bit I came to the realization that I was going to need to reinforce some of the seams that bear the greatest amount of stress. Janet Arnold, thankfully, shows this practice in many of the garments she examined. Some of them look rather like patchwork quilts on the inside with all the padding, reinforcing tapes, et al. Here's a glimpse of what that looks like...

This is the inside of the shoulder seam with the lining herringbone stitched into place. The canvas will not only reinforce the seam, but also help stiffen the collar.

Speaking of collars, I cut my two front pieces and they are decidedly un-square. With two layers of cotton batting padstitched into place, I'm ready to give it a go...


This is the first fitting, with Tigger doing the honors. (Kristin was using her dress dummy, what can I say? I improvised.)


When I'm wearing it (instead of the Tigger), the pucker isn't there either... well, mostly. By cutting the collar off-square, and indeed curving the piece - at least a little - I had more going for me as I eased the piece into the body of the doublet.

As you can see, there's some residual pull across the back of the neck in the picture below, but a bit more tailoring on the next one and I'm there.


It's almost time to get down to hand-sewing and our next hand-stitch... the Herringbone.