Fashion History – The Pragmatic Costumer

NOTE: An earlier version of this post was originally written for Margo’s Patreon page in 2021. She recently announced that she will be discontinuing her pre-printed pattern service. This waistcoat/jacket pattern will remain available as a digital download (026D), but the paper pattern version will be retired when the current batch sells out.

I have always coveted an early 17^th century waistcoat ever since I first discovered them a decade ago. I loved how “frumpy-chic” they were: comfy loungewear that was often completely over-the-top with polychrome embroidery, lace, and spangles.

I even hacked a thrift-shopped modern jacket into a facsimile of a Elizabethan/Jacobean waistcoat in 2013, with surprisingly good results considering I just basted up the side seams with giant backstitches—not out of a love of historical accuracy (clearly, considering I kept the original zipper front of the jacket which also happened to be made of a spandex/rayon blend), but out of pure adoration for The Look.

Also pictured: The Walmart eyelet lace ruff I made by gluing the folds like a book with Tacky Glue and the coif made from a recycled shirt. Sorry for the gaps in many of my old posts. Links and photos have changed/moved/been deleted over the years and I hadn’t yet learned hotlinking was considered rude…

I vowed to eventually do the fashion true justice and make a proper version, but I never seemed to get around to it.

You can imagine, then, my elation when Margo Anderson asked if I would be interested in pattern testing the new Elizabethan Waistcoat pattern. What excitement! I was thoroughly gobsmacked. Here was I, long dreaming of making another jacket of this very sort and here was the perfect opportunity!

Pattern testing is a curious business. I had no idea what to expect! Margo provided the rough draft of the pattern pieces and manual. The draft wasn’t complete since it was still in production—we were pattern testing for that very reason, after all—but it already had illustrations for the majority of the steps, so I could guess what needed to be done by looking at the pieces and illustrations.

Margo even has even kindly provided a comprehensive basic fitting and sewing guide available free for the enjoyment of all!

I have gained a bit more sewing and construction knowledge since my first baste-a-modern-stretch-jacket attempt, though only a smidgen more patience. However, my need for swift gratification was well-served and I found Margo’s waistcoat quite quick and enjoyable to construct. If I– an admittedly haphazard seamstress– can do it, I have confidence that anyone with a firm grasp of basic sewing techniques and a bit of ambition could make this pattern work. If you’ve ever made a Victorian bodice, 18th century bodice, or even a modern structured top, you would probably be comfortable making this pattern.

Pattern 024 contains different construction options like two sleeve choices (a two-piece slim/fitted sleeve or a one-piece full sleeve), high or low collar, and two different hip flare options (inserted gussets or a separate peplum).

I was asked to test out the separate peplum option which suited me very well since it eliminated the need to fiddle with inserting gussets. Margo, does, however, provide a clever method for doing so, should I opt to try tackling another version of the pattern in the future.

My measurements at the time.

I had no prior experience with Margo’s fitting system and feared that I might have some difficulty fairly testing the pattern since I normally have to perform quite a few major alterations to fit my large bust, short waist, and wide shoulders. As recommended, I followed her meticulous fitting guide, taking a multitude of measurements and filling in the appropriate boxes on the sizing chart. At first, I was anxious—my measurements were literally all over the chart! However, I trusted her system and cut out my mockup following Margo’s method.

To my absolute delight, with just a few minor tweaks, it worked!

I got an excellent fit pretty much straight away. The only alteration I had to do was a 1 inch Full Bust Adjustment (FBA)—considerably less than I normally have to do! Because of this, I was able to re-cut the front panels only and complete a wearable mockup of the pattern in a single weekend.

Additionally, because I did the peplum version, I was able to sew nearly everything by machine! While not historically accurate in the least, being able to sew the majority by machine means that folks like me who are impatient, messy hand-sewers, or needing to make it quickly can do so with little issue.

By far my favorite part of sewing Margo’s waistcoat pattern was the incredible sleeves! I absolutely adore full, fanciful sleeves! These are not only beautifully shaped and perfectly tapered (which is harder to achieve than you might think), they are easy to set and only one piece! Plus, as she pointed out, they offer an incredible full range of motion.

You can pick apples, bend down to tie your shoes, raise your hands fix your hat, stretch your arms out to the steering wheel over 4 layers of 4 yard petticoats, and, if anyone quips about “A lady never had to raise her arms,” you can whirligig at them in a righteous rage with ease.

My jacket is made from a lighter-weight cotton duck printed with bees. It’s lined with an old curtain/sheet/something scrap. It is not interlined or boned in any way. I did opt to wear mine over a corset, but that’s personal preference. These sorts of garments would have been worn over stays or over just a shift to relax at home. To gussie it up a bit, I made some bows out of poly-satin ribbon and blinged them with some rhinestones rescued from an old sweater.

Elizabethan and Jacobean jackets can close with actual ribbon ties, but I am horrible at tying bows, so I opted to close my jacket by pinning my pre-sewn bows on instead. Hooks and eyes would also be period-appropriate. I also pieced together a collar and cuffs from a thrifted silk shirt and Walmart lace.

I made up a “pattern” for my collar by heedlessly hacking up the fabric until it fit the neckline that way I wanted. If you’d like a smarter approach, try one of the many free detachable collar patterns out there, like this one that’s a similar shape.

I am not a perfect seamstress by any stretch, but I was still able to create a lovely, comfortable garment I can be proud of, and it was just a first-try mockup! Margo has since updated, refined, and published the completed pattern and manual on her website and other folks have made awesome waistcoats of their own from it.
Many thanks to Margo for affording me the opportunity to test her waistcoat pattern!
You can visit Margo’s shop here.

To keep my hats jaunty but secure at Edwardian events, I use one of my antique, pre-ban hatpins. Pre-ban? What’s that? Well, as silly as it may sound to us, in the 1910s, cities around the globe passed laws outlawing certain sizes of hatpins! Why would governments and police departments waste valuable time outlawing fashion accessories?
Until about 1970, hats were a major part of a woman’s wardrobe. They have varied in size, material, and decor, but one of the primary problems with hats is that, if caught by a gust of wind, it can easily escape from you! Ladies have employed a variety of methods to avert this: making the hat deep enough that it sit snugly on the head or using ribbons to tie them down, wire loops that grasp your head (many 1950s hats use this method), or clips and combs that grab onto your hair. One of the most popular antique methods we no longer use was the hatpin. Hatpins hold your hat on securely by attaching your hat to your hairstyle. That way, as long as your bun is secure, your hat can’t fall off or blow away in the wind! It also helps perch the hat high on your head so it’s not smashing your hairdo or hiding your face. To wear one, you position your hat as desired, thrust the pin through one side of the crown, carefully sliding it under a portion of your hair, and then pushing the pin back out the other side of the hat.

Sort of like this…
The closer yo can get the pin to your scalp, the better. But watch out! You don’t want to jab yourself!

Hatpins started out as wimple pins used to hold women’s veils in place as far back as Roman times. Those pins were fairly small. However, as women’s headwear changed, so did the pins. It was during the late 18th century– when outrageous large hats perched on outrageously large hairdos–that hatpins first began to appear. Hatpins didn’t truly become common until the mid-to-late 19th century when hats overtook bonnets as the most fashionable form of headwear. A hatpin became an indispensable part of a well-dressed woman’s wardrobe. Victorian hats were fairly small for the most part, but as the turn of the century drew near, the hats grew larger and more elaborate…not unlike the giant hats of 100 years earlier.

Mary Boteler by John Hoppner, 1786

Publicity photo of performer Rhonda Ray, circa 1903-1907

Les Modes Hats, circa 1907

Hats and hairstyles in the Edwardian era were enormous, requiring equally enormous hatpins– often so long and sharp that they could not only jab you, but anyone that got too close to you. Indeed, at over a foot long and made of rigid steel, an Edwardian hatpin makes a formidable weapon! There are even poems, books, and songs written about women defending themselves with hatpins! Mugger trying to get your purse? STAB ‘EM! Pervert “mashing” (harassing) you on the train? EN GARDE!

Poke me, eh? I’LL POKE YOU!

Newspapers published many stories about women defending themselves with their hatpins– including in Chicago, one of the first cities to institute hatpin laws. In 1902 the Chicago Tribune published an article about Jaunite Bonneau– one of the first female couriers for Western Union– defending herself with “Fists and Hatpin” against a group of young male attackers– and being completely blamed for hurting the lads that attacked her.

You can find even more Chicago Tribune articles about hatpins being used as weapons in their searchable archives. Most have a rather negative view of hatpins and the women wielding them, but there are a few articles that mention their use in a more positive light, including this 1898 blurb about Barbara Stack who “routed street car robbers with a hatpin” or this 1907 horror story about a woman defending herself from a kidnapping rapist.

The uniquely feminine weapon did not sit too well with men used to submissive ladies, so beginning in 1908, they began passing laws limiting the length of hatpins, usually to no more than 7-9 inches. Other cities passed regulations requiring safety caps for hatpins rather than outright banning longer ones. This seemed like a much more practical approach to the problem of accidental stabbings– a naked pin point sticking out of a hat could accidentally injure people around you– though requiring a cap rendered the pin much harder to use for self-defense, too. Other cities allowed longer, uncapped pins, but they could stick out no more than 1/2″ or you could face a hefty fine— including paying reparations:

From the Boston Sacred Heart Review April 12, 1913.
It is probably not a coincidence that the notice about outlawing hatpins as weapons appears just below an article about militant suffragettes in England.

Male lawmakers weren’t just making idle threats, either. Women vehemently opposed the laws and some ladies were even arrested for wearing long or uncapped pins in their hats, especially suffragettes. Yes, policemen would actually stop women to inspect their hats for illegal hatpins. For example, here’s a clip from a newspaper article about arresting women with long hatpins. At a fierce 13 inches long, my hatpin could have landed me in the slammer if I wore it without a permit after 1908!

Pre-ban Hatpin on the left, 13″ long circa 1900
“Legal” hatpin on the right, 7″ long circa 1890-1915
Somewhat ironically, the shorter hatpin is sharper. You could definitely still defend yourself easily with it!

Hatpins do require extra attention in order to wear them safely. Truth be told, a properly worn hatpin should not be noticeable at all when worn. It should hide amid your hat trimmings, showing only the bejeweled end if it has one. The sharp end shouldn’t not stick out more than an inch (unless it also has a decorative cap as some 1910-1950 hatpins do). If you are like me and have a hatpin a bit too long for your hat, you must be very careful when giving hugs or taking selfies with friends, not to mention being careful not to stab yourself! However, hatpins are incredibly important if you want to wear historical hats properly…or defeat hooligans.

Post-ban newspaper articles take a decidedly dark view of women using hatpins. Many reference the violent protests of women’s rights activists as proof that women could not be trusted with sharp objects, no matter how prettily decorated:

Whether the hatpin ban made women adopt smaller hats or whether the natural flow of fashion made the edicts obsolete, it’s hard to say, but as the 1910s progressed, hats changed to sit lower on the head and slowly shrunk in scale. By 1920, a decade after the hatpin laws passed, women had adopted shorter hair, shorter skirts, and close-fitting cloches that didn’t need hatpins at all. American women also got the vote so we could fight to wear what we want!

A fight for fashion is a fight for freedom!

I actually don’t know when–or even if!– places like Chicago, New Orleans, and Melbourne repealed their hatpin bans…for all I know, it’s one of those weird laws left on the books after all these years and I’m technically a criminal in some municipalities!