What's the Point?

 

I think, at least in the case of this Evening Full Dress from July 1809’s La Belle Assemblée, that the point is (or should I say are) quite apparent, despite the not-very-good quality of my print.

 

Here’s the original description:

THE ELVIRA DRESS. This dress is composed of yellow crape, with a train about half a yard in length; the front of the skirt forming a deep vandyke (to the point of which is suspended a tassel), and is embroidered round the edge in two shades of brown chenille; the sleeves are formed of several rows of plaits crossed on the arm. To complete the whole of this elegant dress, there is worn with it a jacket of yellow satin, which is formed with three deep vandykes behind and two in front; the bosom square, with three straps across the center, which are fastened with diamond brooches; the points of this jacket, front, back, and shoulder straps, are embroidered at the edges the same as the dress, which is worn over a slip of shite satin, likewise embroidered round the bottom, and the sleeves of which appear below the crape over it, and are finished at the bottom with chenille embroidered in form of a vandyke, with the point turned upwards, the center filled up with a sprig.

So many questions, the primary one being, who was Elvira? 😏  Also, the description as written doesn’t quite match the dress, as I see nothing of the straps fastened with diamond brooches on the bodice of the jacket mentioned in the text.

And missing from the text is a description of the accessories—fan, shoes, gloves, pearl jewelry, and headdress—as depicted…and surely that spectacular jeweled diadem and feathers number deserves a few sentences! 

The description of the large triangular points as "vandykes", by the way, comes from the Flemish painter Anthony Van Dyke, who spent most of his career as the leading court painter of King Charles I. He painted a great many portraits of the royal family and nobility...and at the time, lace with deep, indented triangular tongues was highly fashionable, as can be seen in Van Dyke's portrait study of the king (via Wikimedia.)

Looking at the fashion prints from around 1809-1810 in both La Belle Assemblée and Ackermann’s Repository, it is clear that this was a marvelous time to be a modiste: there is such creativity and variability in styles, unlike, say, the early 1820s which were really rather dull. What do you think?

Regency Fabrics, Part 35

Here’s another post in our ongoing series on Regency fabrics.

As I have in previous posts, I’ll be examining actual fabric samples glued into several earlier editions of Ackermann’s Repository, samples supplied by the manufacturers and published by Ackermann in order to boost the British cloth-making industry at a time when exporting British goods to Europe was almost impossible because of the Napoleonic war. I'll give you a close-up scan of each sample, the published description if available, and my own observations of the color, weight, condition, and similarity to present-day materials, to give you as close a picture as possible of what these fabrics are like.

Today’s four samples are from the November 1809 issue of Ackermann’s Repository—a recent acquisition! The overall condition of my copy is very good: the page has been trimmed a little close on the sides and is rather darkly toned but not otherwise damaged, and all four fabric samples are present and in good condition, if a little creased in places.

Here we go!

No. 1. A fret-work striped muslin, particularly adapted for gowns, robes, and pelisses. This article is confined to no absolute order of costume, but is equally adapted to the morning, or half dress;though perhaps it more immediately belongs to the former; yet we have seen the simple French frock, buttoned or laced up the back with biassed bosom and short sleeve, formed of this material; and with ornaments of variegated gems, it forms, at once, a dress unobtrusively neat and attractive. It is sold by Messrs. Waithman and Everington, No. 104, Fleet-street, at 4s. 3d. per yard.

My comments: Well, this is interesting. Examining the fabric (a very fine, sheer muslin, definitely designed to be made up with a lining) I thought it looked rather odd—the stripes have these little blobs of thread that are rather untidy and not very attractive. Then I carefully looked at the backside of the sample, and it suddenly made more sense: the stripes are much more regular and even (not to mention attractive.) Could it be that whoever glued in the samples put this one in backward?

 

No. 2. The Arabian Jubilee silk; the most rich and beautiful article which has ever been introduced in the line of full dress. We may fairly commend the taste and invention of the manufacturer of this most splendid article, which is at once both unique and elegant. We need say little to our fair correspondents by way of recommending it to their notice; its attraction is sufficiently striking to the eye of taste, and we venture to predict, that it will be a reigning favourite with the superior order of fashionables during the winter. It is sold by Mr. D. Hodges, No. 12, Henrietta-street, Covent-garden.

My comments: Ah, merchandising; Mr. Hodges was clearly trying to take advantage of George III’s Jubilee celebrations to sell merchandise. It is lovely stuff, though the scan is not doing it full justice—very fluid and shiny (it is silk, after all) in a warm corn-gold, and would make a beautiful evening dress.

 

No. 3. An imperial green shawl print, of the most novel introduction, and which is expected to rank high on the list of winter fashions, as there are considerable quantities preparing at the different manufactories. The pattern is strikingly delicate, and the colours agreeably contrasted; the warm glow of the bright yellow being a seasonable opposition to the cooler shade of the yet lively green. For the more humble order of home costume, morning wraps, or high gowns, this animated article is particularly adapted; and, we doubt not, will be purchased with avidity by females of taste. This print is also sold by Messrs. Waithman and Everington, No. 104, Fleet-street, at 4s. per yard.

My comments: This is cheerful stuff! I like the print atop the twill-weave stripe, though I’m still trying to figure out if it’s supposed to be a floral or just an insouciant little doodle. There has been fading—the green on the reverse is much brighter and livelier. The body of the fabric is light and drape-y, but perfectly opaque.

 

No.4 is a chintz kerseymere for gentlemens’ waistcoats, and displays much appropriate taste and liveliness of invention. There is little need of remark on this article, except to point out the agreeable contrast which waistcoats of this kerseymere, will form to the dark shades of winter coats. It is sold by Messrs. Smith and Co. No. 2 Prince’s-street, Leicester-square, price 16s.

My comments: I’m not entirely sure where the “chintz” in the description comes in; this fabric is like a thick twill (hard to see in the image, but it’s definitely a twill) that has been brushed to a felt-like consistency, not polished and glazed like a twill. It is definitely suitable for a toasty-warm winter-season waistcoat, being quite sturdy and impervious to chill winds.

What do you think of this month’s fabrics? I wouldn't mind one in the Jubilee silk, myself...

 

A Walk in the Park

Well, here’s a pretty thing! La Belle Assemblée has done (did?) it again with a charming ensemble for a summer walk in the park.

 

The description reads:

No. 2.—Kensington Garden Dress

Mantle of green crape, with a train terminating in a point, trimmed all round with feather trimming of the same material; a tippet with a pointed cape attached to the mantle, the ends of which cross the bosom, and are tied behind with a ribband; with this is worn a Gipsy hat of the same coloured crape; the crown quartered with a small knot on the top, and on the left side a cord and tassels; the hat trimmed at the edge the same as the mantle. Robe dress, walking length, of white washing sarsnet, with an embroidered border.

So much going on here! First, while I love the color green, 19^th century green clothing always gives me the heebie-jeebies because many green dyes were…well, as poisonous as heck. This might have predated the arsenical greens of a slightly later date, but still…

I do love the idea of a diaphanous cloak, though. I would love to see a sample of the fabric this was made from. And the feather trim! It says in the description that the trim is made from the same material as the mantle itself, so I assume it is made of little tongues of fabric that probably ravel a bit and look quite feathery. The tippet adds a layer of interest—I would like to have seen a back view. And oh my goodness, I can just picture a “meet-cute” where our absent-minded hero, his nose buried in a book, crosses paths with our heroine by stepping on the trailing point of her mantle…

As for the rest: I wonder if the brim of the hat was stiffened with wire or a strip of buckram under the feather trim? The gloves appear to be York tan, with slippers of a similar shade. And that parasol! Blue plaid with a fringe—what a confection.

I would totally have worn this dress (especially if I got that meet-cute with the handsome book-reading fellow!) How about you?

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One more thing: I’ve been posting these wonderful La Belle Assemblée prints and the Ackermann fabric samples I’ve been featuring on my Pinterest account. Have a look! It’s kind of neat to see them all in one place.