The gathered/ruched crossover regency gown

I have been slaving away these past weeks on a new gown of a different style than I usually wear, and I wore it Sunday and it was so great, I can't help but pat myself on the shoulder for it. NO COSTUME MALFUNCTIONS! That's really something if you know how often I am afflicted with costume-issues.

The gathered/pleated gown.



This picture is THE BOMB. No double chin showing to boot! Thanks S-2!

 I’m sorry I didn’t take any progress photos. I don’t have a decent camera except the one of my phone and in the darkness of our cave-like cabin the images simply would not turn out nicely. So I opted instead to do my little drawings and to take pictures of the final product outdoors.

The ‘base bodice’

I started by draping the ‘base’ bodice. This gown probably could be made without a base bodice, it would be a lot more challenging and harder to build if I didn’t have the base upon which to hang the outer fabric. It also helped determine the shape of the gown. You could use a standard front-opening regency bodice pattern to do this, but I chose to drape it on my dress-form for a good fit and also because I wanted a particular shape. I didn’t really want the wider neck of a standard day-gown. I also just wanted a good fit on the back. I wanted the back neckline to be right up to the neck, and the shoulders straps to be wider than usual.

So I got a piece of cheap muslin to pattern with and laid it on the back of my dress form. I used my hand to smooth it down flat on one side of the back so there were no wrinkles or rumples, and then drew out the back piece, using the center back as the ‘fold’ side. I cut it out and then put it back on the dress-form. I then moved onto the side/front, leaving my newly cut back piece sitting in place for reference and shape-matching.

Using the same piece of muslin, I wrapped the half of the dress form, pressed the fabric flat where I wanted it, and then starting at the back, I matched the curve of the notch in the back piece and then drew the waistline, arm-hole, shoulder strap and then the front flaps. I made sure the shoulder met the edge of the shoulder of the back piece, and was lying correctly along the shape of the dress-form/body without rumples or creases.

Please keep this in mind as you drape; modern dress forms have the breasts in a more natural location than the position you would need for a regency silhouette, so when I cut my pieces, I let the front flaps hang a bit diagonally down over the front of the form to compensate for the higher regency position of the breast. It’s hard to explain, but that’s how it works.

I recommend, if you aren’t confident about draping on-the-fly (like everything else I do), that either you leave the flaps long and adjust when it’s on you, or you can make yourself a dress form with the proper silhouette by using one of these methods with your regency stays on underneath (which would be really advantageous to have if you make yourself a lot of regency-period costumes). Either that, or you go with the sides and back pieces of a regency bib-front pattern, which can be easily adjusted with wider shoulder straps and higher back.


Once I got those two shapes drawn out on the muslin and cut out as pattern pieces, I cut them in the actual fabric with a ¼ inch seam allowance all ‘round (the center back on the fold). I cut four side/fronts, two backs on the fold, and then sewed each layer of the bodice individually. I hand-sewed everything on this project (I know, really?! Me??? Hand-sewing? Who knew!) But I discovered that hand-sewing is not quite as messy as machine sewing is, it takes less room if you’re working off of a dress-form, and you can relax and watch Doc Martin while you’re stitching away instead of being hunched over a sewing machine squinting at your needle-threader. Aaaanyway, I stitched the curved notches to the back, and then pressed them, and affixed the shoulder-straps to the back. When I had both layers completed and pressed, I laid the two layers good sides in, and sewed all the way around the neckline, from the bottom corner of the front flap, around the neckline.

Does this look familiar? Yes, because I it’s the same thing I did with the bib-front bodice. Only this time, I pressed and folded-in the raw edges on the armseyes and bottom of the bodice, and whip-stitched those closed so they look tidy.

The next step was to create the drawstring channels. I was deliberately loose and careless on this step, and sewed with wide, often irregular running stitches. The first channel follows the neckline from the top of the front-flap around. The second channel goes along the bottom edge of the bodice. I snipped four tiny holes at the edge of the front flaps and buttonhole-stitched around the edges of them so there was a nice, neat access to the channel. I also added two hooks and eyes to the front-closure to keep the sides from separating, which happens a lot with drawstring gowns. A hook and eye will solve any unseemly gaps. I strung some very fine twill tape through the neckline and around the waistline channels and voila. The ‘base’ for the gown was done.

The Gown

A rough-cut measure. Everything was done
'by-eye' on this project. I'm comfortable
experimenting. Lots of people aren't;
there's nothing wrong with that. :)

I then fitted my base-bodice onto the dress-form (tying only the top drawstring), and got my gown fabric. The bodice base I made from very light-weight cotton, almost handkerchief-weight. The gown fabric should also be something delicate and light, because with all the gathering and pleating, with a heavier fabric it could get really bulky. The fabric I used was five yards of sheer patterned voile. Five yards is plenty of fabric for a regency gown, although I’ve been known to use up to eight for when I’m in a pleating frenzy. But even a full figured girl can have lots of volume with five yards.

Anyway, I started with the front by laying the cut edge of the fabric (still folded at this point) at the top for the shoulder, and pinning it there and then dropping the fabric down to the ground. There, I cut the length off below the hemline so I can hem it up later. The front is one panel of fabric. I then unfolded the fabric to its full width and marked the center where it was folded.

I cut down about 12” down the center-front. I then rolled the cut edges in, and began to whipstitch the roll into place. That will be the front opening.

The next step is among the trickiest of parts, because what you need to do is pin the side of the dress so that you can cut the armseyes and insure that the side seam of the skirts is in the right place. So I had to center the edge of each side of the front fabric to the middle of the arm and pin it to the top and bottom center of the arm opening; all the while watching that I wasn’t dropping the hem or pinning it too high. Then I wrapped the fabric onto the shoulder and chest and smoothed it along the shoulder edge to the top of the shoulder and locked the area around the arms in place with pins, leaving the rest of that panel of fabric free. Then I was free to affix the armseye. I cut out the half of the armseye covered in fabric, turned the edges in, whip-stitching the side to the shoulders of the base-bodice. I did leave an inch or two of the fabric loose at the bottom of the armseye where it will be stitched to the fabric of the back of the gown, so I can seam them together.

Once the edge of the arms were sewn into place, I did a wide running stitch along the top edge of each cut shoulder side, and then gathered it up tightly to fit the width of the shoulder. I affixed the gathered top to the seam on the bodice shoulder with a strong line of double stitching (watch not to sew through your drawstring!!), being sure to pull the gathers down tightly. I then did the same to the other side.

I drew this twice because I thought the way I drew it above
looked weird.

The front is done at this point (except the last bit with the drawstring at the waist, but that comes close to the end).

Now it was time to tackle the back. For that, I drew out two lengths of the fabric, which left just enough for the sleeves. Opened the first panel up to cover one half of the form, and did the same thing I did with the front; I began by fixing the edge of the fabric to the bottom of the armseye to insure it would match with the front piece, and pinned it in place. I also was careful insure that I left enough of an allowance at the top to fold under and cover the raw edges of the gather on the shoulder and leave a clean line. Once that side was determined and the edge of the top was measured, I got into one of my pleating frenzies.

In this case, I used the pattern of the fabric to help me. There is a thick latticed line that runs vertically through the pattern with a wavy pattern between. Placing one latticed line against the next, I began to pleat along the waistline of the bodice, pinning as I went along, and angling each pleat towards the shoulder, gradually making a sort of sunburst. This is arduous work, but well worth it, and makes for a stunning garment. Once that half was pinned in place the stitching began. :::GROAN::: Holy Hell! What did I get myself into? You could probably make this much simpler if you’re not willing to go through the process of pleating all that material down. You could cut a back to the shape of the bodice, and then sew your gathered or pleated skirts to the bottom of it, that would work too, or do bigger pleats and cut away the excess on the inside once it’s affixed. Either way, that’s what I did on July the 4th. I hand-stitched down pleat after pleat after pleat.

That texture is incredible, I still can't believe how great it looks. :)

Note: I did NOT sew the pleats down to the base bodice. The outer gown hangs completely free of the bodice except at several crucial points; the shoulder seam, the neckline and the armseyes. That’s it. I slid my hand underneath the fabric and carefully inserted the needle from underneath to begin and then did a running stitch upwards, all the while, holding the fabric up from beneath to keep from snagging the fabric of the base bodice. This is NOT necessary, you can very well affix the whole back and side/back to the base bodice as much as you please (avoiding your drawstring with care), but since I want more draw-stringy flexibility, I decided to keep them separate.

I then folded the fabric edges along the neckline under (after trimming), and whip-stitched them to the base bodice. I then seamed the skirts together from under the armseyes to the hem with a simple running stitch (hopefully not too messy). I simply folded one edge onto the other in a tidy line and stitched it down. When that was done, I flat-felled the seam inside just so it looked tidy.

I then pinned the other side of the back to match, and started by seaming the center neatly together, and connected the skirts with another running stitch down the center of the back. I finished that seam within. I then sewed all the pleats down on the other side of the back (which was somehow harder to do on the left side), affixed the neckline and covered the raw gathered edge of the front shoulder with the folded edge of the back. I seamed the other side together from the underarm to the skirts and voila; most of the gown was done. I sewed a simple narrow rolled hem and then cut the sleeves. I used an old self-cut pattern from my old gowns for the sleeve, and found they are much too large. They will have to be taken in and fitted better to my arm later on. But you can always cut the sleeves from any number of patterns. These are elbow-length sleeves, and I’m pretty sure you can find nice patterns for those in the Mode Bagatelle pattern or whatnot. Or you can attempt to drape your own.

The very last step after all the hemming and such was to add the drawstring to the gown layer to fit all this gathered and pleated fabric to my empire waistline. The first step was to put on the gown and put pins to mark the places in the front where I would want to drawstring to rest. I then got some inch-wide twill and inside the gown, I started at the center back. Using the line of the underbodice back, I stitched the tape down inside the gown. I stitched each long edge, leaving a channel for the drawstring. When I reached the marking pins on the side and front, I simply followed along this pin-marked line. I did not stitch the twill channel to the edge of the front opening. If I had, I would not have been able to have the small crossover of fabric I was hoping for. So I left about 2 inches on each side of the opening, and then added a small hook and eye so when the drawstring was closed, I could secure the crossover just by hooking it.

That’s it. That’s my latest gown project. It was FUN but a LOT OF WORK! I’m fairly sure there are a lot of ways to make a project like this much easier, but leave it to me to find my own inventive methods. All in all, this has to be my favourite Regency gown of all. It FITS ME, which is perfect! For once something was made for my shape and my shape alone! Yay for draping! I had no costume malfunctions on Sunday at all, and usually I always do! This gown gave me no trouble at all. The only downside was that the crossover occasionally widened to reveal the little top bow on my under-bodice. Big whoop! I love this gown!

Also, for an addendum: here are photos of the little dresses that I draped on the two little girls. The only challenge of draping these was that their little arms were not detachable and that made shaping the side-front pieces a bit challenging.

The bodices are made as most regency bodices are made, except that I made them back closing, and chose drawstrings at the neckline and the waist to insure a proper fit (with hooks and eyes to keep them from gapping too much). I also made the front bodice panel wider than normal so it could be tightly gathered. The only error here is that I forgot to add a seam allowance to the waistline when I was cutting them, so the bodices are remarkably short .. but still precious. I threw together a couple of bonnets for the girls and voila... cuteness off the charts! Although I have resolved that as much as it was nice to allow the girls to pick their own fabric, next time it’s going to be sheer white gowns with silk sashes. Squee!

Today's not SO much of a mumbly Monday because in spite of being exhausted, and that I twisted my ankle today, I am still glowing from a wonderful weekend. :)

I know, I know.. but it bears reposting

I put this on the Oregon Regency Society's blog-page... but I watched it again this morning when I most needed a laugh, and thought it direly needed reposting. One bad word is used in it, fair warning to those of you with tender hearing. But anyone who loves P&P would appreciate this.

Happy Birthday Jane.

Wednesday will be the birthday of my favourite author; Jane Austen.

I first discovered her in AP lit in Middle School. Pride and Prejudice was on our required reading list, and it was one of the books we were told to buy for the school year. My mother, stumbled into the British book shop near the mall at Woluwé-Saint-Lambert, and bought a book of Jane's works instead of just P&P. It was a thick book with a soft cover, and those really thin crinkly sounding pages. Somewhere on my shelf, among the many other versions of Jane's works, that dog-eared book still lingers. The spine has creases in it, and most of the cover is worn off. I read, and re-read, marked, folded, quoted, browsed, referred to and thumbed through every page. It's in rough shape--but I still can't bring myself to throw it away.

I've always been a reader. I remember reading Jean Auel's Valley of the Horses when I was in the second grade. With a family of 'book thieves' (which means that if you were reading something and left it sitting in an accessible area, you risked it being stolen by another family member and would have to suck it up and wait for them to finish before you got it back)'--it was inevitable that I would be a book-nerd. I was one of the few kids in class that actually enjoyed required reading. That doesn't mean I did my assignments on time or at all; I was a lackadaisical student to say the least, but I did my reading regardless of whether I cared to prove it to my teachers. And Jane's books were hands-down the ones that had the greatest impression on me. There are a series of books I've kept all these years; 1) Jane Austen's complete works... 2) The Lottery Rose by Irene Hunt 3) The Velveteen Rabbit, 4) and the complete collection of Beatrix Potter books and 5) Jean Auel's slowly growing 'Earth's Children' series. I have all of those. The children's books are meant to go to the child I hope to have someday.

As the years have gone by, Jane has sort of grown into my life. I am not historian, I don't claim to know everything about her life... I only know that her humour, her satire, her style and her imagination sustain me sometimes when other books just don't cut it. Her characters are timeless, her subtle truths are beautiful. I love Jane Austen. She's my eldest sister, who keeps my morale up. I feel connected to her through Anne Elliot's quiet tolerance and through Mr. Bennett's wit and sarcasm. I feel that her works are so relevant--and every time I read about the gentlemen boasting about their driving equipment, I think of men today, drooling over their cars... It's all so wonderful, I can only wish I could throw Jane a great surprise party, with a huge glistening cake and a circle of loving friends who appreciate all the gifts she's given us. Happy Birthday Jane!

Visitors and corsets.

This office special is my tribute to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I read it on my flight to and from the East coast, and in some moments in between, and it made me laugh and laugh—and trust me, I needed the laugh. I was hesitant to read it, being a Jane Austen purist, but it was bloody hilarious. My friend Laura gifted me the book and insisted I read it. It was silly beyond words, but so ridiculous in everything, that it made it wonderful. Just what the doctor ordered. The drawing was done with a fine-point graphic pen from my pencil box, a ball point for shading and sketched with my mechanical pencil on copy paper.

Anyway… Onto my Monday mumble…

I wonder if it’s odd to be overwhelmed by having three women in one’s kitchen? Well I was, yesterday. I sat in my chair in my tiny dining room, and watched three women pour tea, eat crème brûlée and cupcakes (thanks to evil S-II), laugh and chat while standing around my teeny butcher-block island. I became overwhelmed. I suppose it can be odd and overwhelming when you normally have nobody in your kitchen except for the memory of a brief moment when one’s husband is home and you see him at the sink as he rinses out the dog dishes—or you recall when one’s older sister moved in for half a year and could be heard grumbling from the kitchen about you leaving a dish in your own sink and not making the extra step of putting it in the dishwasher. I realized this weekend how infrequently I have visitors.

For the past few weekends, S-II, the evil pastry chef extraordinaire, has been my weekend visitor. I carved out some room for her to sleep in my frigid craft-room for overnighters, and she has been a quiet and comfortable friend to me while I putter about my house doing what I do while watching House on DVD. I’ve also had visitors in Laura, a fellow historic-group creator, and most recently as this Sunday, and Tessa, the recipient of the sewing services I’ve been providing. On Sunday, all three of these little individual little she-worlds collided in my kitchen over Summer Pudding tea and caramelized sugar.

Nobody comes to see us way up on the mountain. We might as well have a house on Mount Hood’s icy summit, because nobody cares to do the drive. Except the hardy creatures, like S-II, Laura and Tessa. Laura came to talk about the things we always promise to talk about and never quite get around to, S-II was there for the sake of being there and was happily camped on my sofa with a blanket over her legs, dogs burrowed under it, and her laptop balanced precariously on the whole pile. I was frantically binding raw edged arms eyes on a Victorian bodice on my dining room table when Laura arrived with a book of artwork we never got ‘round to looking at, and then Tessa arrived to try on my very first Victorian Corset.

I’ve been trying to tone down my activity levels a bit. I was so stressed with the issues with my father, and my work that I had actually gotten physically ill from it. I was having severe digestive issues and was not sleeping at all. I’ve put the ORS on the back burner for now, I will only freak out when it comes ‘round to ball-time. I’ve backed off on my complete dictatorship for now… allowed others to do things in the name of ORS and do it without my control-freakish gaze over their shoulder. I’ve decided to trust people to do their thing. And they have shown they are more than worthy. Right now, I need to do things that I can focus on and that calm me. I need to find my center. My core. I need to find peace and quiet.

One of those things is sewing. It calms me. The hum of my machine is comfort to me, and I’ve allowed myself too much procrastination on my sewing projects. Tessa needs a Victorian-style costume. Four clothing pieces and some underpinnings. And I recently tackled my very first Victorian corset. It was surprisingly easier than I thought it would be, even with the little fastening busk thing… but I AGONIZED about it fitting her. It looked SO SMALL. I forgot though, how small that little thing is, that Tessa. And when she came in yesterday, stripped off her top and bra in the middle of my living room (certainly to the delight of my seasonal neighbor who happened to be at his cabin and working in the garden yesterday within view of my window) and we lay the corset on her and it immediately took its shape before I could even lace it up, I nearly wept. No kidding! It was SO perfect. It fits her like a glove, and it shapes her into the perfect hourglass. It was the most satisfying feeling I’ve had in MONTHS. I felt happy… over a stupid corset! Now I want to make ten corsets. I have some pink Dupioni silk, and some dark grey cotton fabric with black whorls and scrolling on it that are both screaming to become corsets with little rose-printed and black velvet bindings…. Oh yeah, baby.

I’ll post pictures of the little vixen when her costume is done and she’s all trussed up in her gold and chocolate getup of Victorian style over her simple cotton corset. She picked a natural form look, no crinolines, no hoops, no bustle pads. She will be stunning. This is made from the Laughing Moon Dore Corset pattern.

[[Update: Here are some pictures of the corset ON Tessa.  Beware these pictures are a bit sexy... Tessa's a little minx]]

Beautiful shape. She is obviously not
wearing a shift ... very risqué. 

She is so pretty. The corset
enhances her sexiness for sure.
Even a simple cotton corset.

Anyway… I had three women in my kitchen yesterday! One took off with her new corset and left me to frantically finish her jacket and bustle… another settled back into the pile of comfort on the sectional, and the last cuddled with Simon on the chair--we ate my Puerto Rican special “Arroz con habichuelas y carne…” (Rice and beans and MEAT—steak in this case, mistaken for pork when removed from the freezer… hey we adapt), and we watched the pilot to Firefly, for neither of these ladies have been introduced to this icon of nerdiness, and I felt it necessary to indoctrinate them.

What a lovely Sunday! Shiny.

Project progress... One item down.

So I can now rejoice in knowing I'll at least have a bonnet to wear on Saturday. Feast your eyes on my new lovely stovepipe bonnet. It's adorable, is it not? I made it from my pattern, using buckram and millinery wire to build the frame. It is covered in a lovely gold, scarlet and brown striped silk taffeta. I lined the 'pipe' inside with some leftover white cotton. I also added an assortment of tasteful feathers, including a nice floopy black ostrich feather, and capped the embellishment off with a pennant of a silver-coloured aspen leaf that I got in Denver last September. I layered the ribbons too. So pretty! I cranked this baby out on Sunday. Next project please!

At least if this week ends up being a disaster, I'll have this lovely bonnet to wear on Saturday to the Portland Art Museum. One piece down. I'd like to tackle the spencer next... I'm going to aim for making items I don't have at all first... I have gowns, so the new day gown is the last priority; as are the chemisette and false sleeves. I need a spencer and a hat, and at least a nice froofy, lacy cap with that Mrs. Bennet vibe. I also need to get white ribbon to adorn my parasol too. AND I need to dig up a reticule to carry a Regency lady's essentials; such as the keys to her Jeep, her iPod shuffle, her cell-phone and her credit-card of course. ;)

I watched "Lost in Austen" last night while stitching my buckram; and I have to say, I found it stupid. Sorry, but I did. It was so silly I could barely focus on it, frankly. It was a campy exercise in silliness, and the characters of the book were slaughtered by the screenwriter; all of the things they did were so contrary to their carefully wrought personalities--it was almost insulting. Poor Jane is probably spinning in her grave. I was deeply annoyed by it and could barely finish it, wishing over and over that it would soon end. I shall gladly slip it back into its red envelope and send it back to Netflix. That one gets only one star, and that's only because of Caroline's fantastic hats. The gowns were all quite frumpy looking too, but there were a few pieces that were worthy. All around, I recommend it only if you're want for a period-piece and you need some light entertainment; but frankly, I wasn't all that entertained. Hated it.

Darcy's Gaze

This weekend, I had a friend come up and stay the night. We practiced some dances for a workshop on Saturday, and then we decided to pull out my much-played 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice; initially to assure that we’d gotten the dance right, and then afterwards to fast-forward through most of the movie, stopping only to watch the bits with Colin Firth playing Darcy. We both sat there; both just slightly tipsy, and drank in with painful longing at the overwhelmingly disgusting, unrealistic romance that we both adore so much. It’s so beautiful it’s ridiculous. It’s almost physically painful.

We both wondered if we were completely deluded to want that kind of romance in our lives; and we both questioned if it at all existed to begin with. Was Jane Austen, a lady who refused to settle—even at the cost of becoming a burden on her family; and who died never experiencing the kind of requited love she gave her heroines, just feeding us all something wholly unreal? Are there really and truly any Darcys roaming the earth, profoundly tormented by their feelings; willing to sacrifice what they must and to fight to obtain or keep their woman’s affections? Or are we just idiots to desire that sort of passion and to let these stories lead us on?

I don’t know. In my heart, I believe that if someone writes about it, that it has to exist on some level. I have to hope it does. I have to believe that there is that broody, painful, longing, first-love kind of passion in this world that is requited for a change. I need to know that men are capable of that depth compassion and affection. I have to believe that there is a kind of love that would make even the most reprehensible soul be willing to change his or her ways for the sake of love—for someone to give up something astronomical to be with someone they adore.

As a mean, I cannot stomach chick-flicks. I really can’t. I despise sappy, saccharine romantic comedies, and predictable, formula flicks. But I can’t stop watching Jane Austen adaptations. I also am a sucker for Buffy—for that kind of crazy, irrational love like when Spike chose to torment himself for eternity by getting his soul back, simply to be worthy of Buffy (who in my mind, never deserved that dedication from him to begin with). That sort of sacrifice is mythical--to set aside your pride, and to subject yourself to the ill-perceptions of others, to open yourself to possible pain just to show that person you love that there is nothing in the world that would make you stop loving them. Nothing.

Am I deluded? Maybe.

Maybe after dealing with the pain of infidelity, the image of Colin Firth’s brooding eyes gazing lovingly at Lizzie makes my heart hurt more than usual. The idea of Spike making himself insane with guilt just so that Buffy could see that he had a soul makes me want to cry. Those stories kill me. They are so beautiful, it’s painful. Maybe it makes me want someone to look at me that way, and know that there’s no reason in the world, no possible hurt I could inflict on this man, to cause him to take that loving gaze away.

When I got married, I truly believed that it was there—in his gaze. I saw it when I reached him at the altar. I really believed that the unconditional dedication was reflected in both my heart and his. I called him my dedicated Colonel Brandon. I imagined that I’d waited this long to marry just because I was waiting for him. I truly believed that. I think that’s the worst part of all this… the infidelity itself, that’s not what ripped my heart out… the thing that is the most painful about this whole thing is the overwhelming, devastating disillusionment—the heart-wrenching discovery that the love in his gaze wasn’t unconditional, that it wasn’t whole—that the desire to fight and sacrifice wasn’t quite as mutual as I believed it to be, that is undying dedication was quite as undying as it appeared to be.

Now I live with the knowledge that if I can find it in me to trust him again, and to bring him back into my life; that the special, adoring gaze not only never was what it seemed, but in truth it will never really be like Mr. Darcy’s.

I’m Pushing 40. Am I beyond that kind of love now? I know idealistic ideas like this should be reserved for the young… and that the reality is marriage is a roller-coaster… relationships are a bear, but if it doesn’t work out, is there a chance that I’ll ever have that passion again? What if it does work out? I know it’s impossible to expect anyone to never disappoint you; we are all human after all—but even with that reality; there is always your capacity to rise above it, to see beyond the disappointment, and to see them as you did once before, with pure, truly unabashed love and adoration. I know I have that, I know it’s inside me, but I wonder if it’s in him. And I wonder if he’ll ever look at me that way again or will his eyes always be emanating his shame?

Why Jane's England Floats My Boat

I've been addicted to Jane Austen for more than half of my life. It all started with a complete collection of Jane's works bought for me by my mother. It was meant to fulfill the required reading list, and has instead stayed with me since it was given to me. The book is dog-eared and the spine irrevocably creased. I read newer versions to protect my original book. Jane's works are among the very few other romance literature I will pick up. I just don't like any other kind, oddly.

Jane is the reason why the Oregon Regency Society exists. I created an entire organization just to fulfill my desire to experience that time. How selfish of me. I suppose, I did it because I sought to feel precious and pretty in a gown and pearls, to be civil and have people be civil to me; to dance, to enjoy the romantic aspects of the costume and of the customs, to have others around me who like the same. There is something about seeing a young man arrive at one of our events toting the stiff collar and cravat, his entire posture exuding the strict protocol of the regency period, his topper under his arm ~ to see him bow curtly and lift his hand to a lady in order to ask her to dance. There's something extremely satisfying in just seeing young people participating in the events; and to be enthusiastic about it. It's a beautiful thing that gives me hope in a world where I've seen a young lady open her car door and spit out the door.

I feel like I've been missing something in my normal jeans-wearing life. The genteel manners, the polite conversation, the sense that I can be a lady, and be treated like one. Even my reluctant spouse somehow changes once the frock-coat slides up onto his shoulders and he grasps the top of his cane. He stands straighter, he is more polite, more structured. He is also infinitely delicious in the costume... So handsome. :)

It's sort of strange, to imagine in Oregon there are so many people who share this vision; who strive to participate in our events. Our membership is hovering around 180 or so right now. Picnics, parties, workshops, it doesn't matter; any excuse to play dress-up. :) I'm extremely proud of my accomplishment with the ORS. I'm proud of what it has become, and happy that it is made up of kindred-spirits.

Taking it a too bit far, I'll confess...

I like to play dress-up. Sue me.

I spend a good deal of my free time sewing costumes; specifically costumes for the Regency period, which spans from about 1790-1820, although I do prefer the styles from the earlier half of this period.

It probably stems from my addiction to Jane Austen and the like. My mom got me this big, fat, softcover collection of Jane’s works when I was still in secondary school. It’s one of those books with the very thin pages that make a crinkly noise when you flip them. She saw Pride and Prejudice on my curriculum reading list, and got the whole collection in one book by mistake. I’ve had that book since. It’s dog-eared and a corner of the cover is bent. The spine is irrevocably creased in countless places. It’s now one among many editions of Jane’s works, but it is still my favourite. And I have read and read and read that book.

Then, I stumbled onto my first adaptation on BBC in the eighties. And that was it. I was done-for. Gonzo. Adios. My addiction became incurable after that. There has been no lack of fodder either to keep it aflame. New adaptations, lots of Hollywood versions to lambaste, lots of weird adaptations like Clueless and Brigit Jones’ Diary…

And then I moved to Oregon. And I was doing one of my ‘I’ve-got-cramps-and-I’m-severely-grumpy-so-leave-me-alone-I’m-going-to-lie-here-and-watch-all-five-hours-of-Pride-and-Prejudice-uninterrupted-except-to-pee-and-to-grab-a-comforting-snack-and-make-tea’ weekends; and while I waited for the next episode to spool up, I had a vision of myself, in a regency gown; fan in my hand, leaning in to whisper quiet snark to another regency-costumed individual, while before us, lines of costumed dancers moved in graceful, figures across the floor.

A year later, I was sitting in a regency gown, fan in my hand, leaning in to whisper quiet snark to another regency-costumed individual, while before us, lines of costumed dancers moved in graceful figures across the floor. How did this happen?

Well. I just went ahead and did it, I guess.

Oddly enough, it was as simple as a decision. I got up during a break, and walked to my computer, and bought a domain. That’s all it took to create the monster.

It’s spiraled pretty much out of control ever since. A year later, the society is approaching 200 members now. We have events pretty much every month, some teas, parties, dances, workshops for costumes… and a sumptuous ball each year. So on top of finding low-cost venues, raising funds, soliciting membership, managing and coordinating events, and everything else (not to mention juggling my FT job, writing and goodness knows what else), I have to sew myself new garments constantly. Oh, and I also have forced my husband into this, and I also make costumes for my non-sewing friends.

And I still somehow find time to draw little ditties like the one above.

I’m amazing.

Weird.

But amazing nonetheless. And some people say I can’t start and maintain a business. If I can do this… I can do anything.

http://www.orregency.org/