12 June 2004

Robk and I have been trying to track down sufficient information to make a corset, and it's rough.

Nobody knows that much about the corsets of the time, except that they existed. How, exactly, were they made? Where did the seams go? Very few examples survive - none from England. Janet Arnold has plenty of info on the corsets worn by Elenora di Toledo and Pfalzgrafin Dorothea Sabina von Neuberg, and I can somewhat extrapolate from those - but, sorry, neither Toledo nor Neuberg are in England, and since German and Italian fashion were significantly different from English dress... well, it seems to me that if the outer clothes are so significantly different, then the support garments must be as well.

Just about the only thing I have to go on is the portrait of a young woman at her toilette - it's from c. 1600, so it's quite a stretch to even consider it 'something to go on' - usually considered to be of Elizabeth Vernon, Countess of Southampton. Except that the National Portrait Gallery claims there's only one portrait of Elizabeth Vernon, and that ain't it. However. She's wearing a pink silk corset, in a style reminiscent of the Effigy Corset, a front-lacing design dated to the turn of the 17th century. Drea Leed has done a lot of research into this corset; I admire her skill, dedication, and willingness to share her knowledge with others: however, I frequently draw different conclusions than she does, possibly because of the differing foci of our work.

The reason I'm inclined to use this style of corset as the underpinning for my gown is the appearance of the portrait I'm working from. Take another close look at Margaret More Roper, specifically the profile of her torso.

The usual assumption about Tudor corsets are that they are back-lacing and very rigid in front, usually supported with a thick busk of wood, ivory, or some other strong but very-slightly flexible material. It's very likely that this style of corset existed, as other women in the portrait seem to have dresses with rigid, straight-line fronts - the infamous Tudor 'ice-cream cone' look.

Margaret, however, still has a marked curve to her torso, and she seems to be sitting with a relaxed, slightly slumped posture - nothing like the braced-upright way anybody who's ever spent any time in a corset recognizes. Sitting on the floor the way Margaret is also is a near-impossiblity in a rigid-fronted corset; when wearing any of my Renaissance Faire corsets, taking a seat on the ground, or worse yet, getting up again, is an exercize in contortion and logistics. A few minutes of experimentation involving a 12-inch wood ruler, a clear space on the floor, and much hilarity on robk's part proved my theory, at least in my mind; Margaret More Roper is wearing a softer corset, one that shapes her torso but restricts it much less than most people assume a Tudor corset does.

Mind you, Margaret's corset is still much more 'corsetty' than her younger sister Cecily's (seated on the left in the portrait). Then again, Cecily is obviously rather pregnant - go look at that portrait again - and is wearing the 16th-century answer to maternity clothes.

Ergo: a buskless corset. Now, I've seen quite a few busks that are intricately carved & decorated. It doesn't make sense to me, if I try to put myself into a Tudor frame of mind, to waste time carving something that will never be seen. Remember, during this time period, linings were made of patched scraps and any portion of a garment that was covered by another layer was left undecorated. Things that were never seen were not considered worth the effort of embellishing.

I can hear someone in the back clamoring, "But corsets are made of silk and taffeta and fancy fabrics! Those aren't ever seen!"

Yes, they are, but only in certain, special circumstances: dressing and undressing, acts of intimacy. I think that this is the way it works:

A busk has two little holes at the top. Most people say that this is so that, when the busk is slid into a narrow pocket in the front of the back-lacing corset, little laces can be threaded through holes in the corset and those holes in the busk to keep it in place. I'm not saying this style of corset, or this type of corset-busk interaction, didn't exist, but I think that this other type, which I'm going to try to make, did as well (For a modern comparison, think push-up bra vs. t-shirt bra).

What if we combine two of the conclusions we have already made: one, a front-lacing corset existed; two, a busk was used in such a way that it was visible at some point, possibly during dressing and undressing?

The conclusion I draw - and if anybody out there spots a fallacy in my logic, please let me know! - is that, with a front-lacing corset, the busk could be placed behind the lacing panel, between the shift and the corset, as the corset was being laced up. When the wearer reached the top two holes of the corset, she (or her ardent assistant, presumably the person who procured this lovely decorated busk for her as a token of his affection) could thread the corset lace through the busk's holes as well, holding it in place.

Of course, if the busk was a separate piece, not integral to the corset, it could easily be left out, producing the still-supported but less-rigid shape displayed by Margaret More Roper.

Quod erat demonstratum!

...

I'm off to make an attempt at this thing, now. I've acquired a nice heavyish linen for the majority of the corset: I've got a lovely silk taffeta in the shade of red that results from using kermes, a popular dye of the time, that I will use as the outside 'fashion fabric.' For boning, I've decided to use hemp cord, for several reasons. My research has shown that the most common types of boning at this time were reed, cord, and whalebone. Needless to say, whalebone is not a possibility. Reed is widely available and not expensive, but I think that the hemp will give me the combination of rigidity and flex that I'm looking for; prior experience with basketry leads me to believe that a reeded corset would be much more rigid than what I want, although if I ever make one of the stiffer, more tubular corsets, reeds are a definite possibility. As a result, I got two sizable balls of the heaviest hemp cording I could find at my beading store. Assuming I don't get eaten by my sewing machine, I'll be back soon - with pictures of the process!

Wish me luck!

eclipse

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