This gown is the result of a challenge given to me by my Laurel to create a gown appropriate for my persona that could be worn in 'working' conditions, such as Pennsic. While I had originally hoped to finish this gown in time for Pennsic 34, in fact, it was not finished until the following Twelfth Night. The criteria for my research was something that was 'easy to wear' (no ties, plenty of support in the bodice) and fairly easy to construct, but still having something to challenge me. The gown style I selected met the criteria, in that it had neat, clean lines, while the pleating at the shoulders would be a new experience. I also used this opportunity to further my understanding of Venetian clothing and culture.
• Red worsted wool twill
• Black worsted wool twill
• Undyed silk organza
• Red tabby woven linen
• Black trim woven with gold thread
• Twill tape
• Modern thread
I started with the fabric and chose wool, as being a more comfortable, washable alternative to silk. I personally chose a dark red worsted wool twill, a 'plain' fabric appropriate for the project. I was delighted to compare my wool to a sample of wool dyed with cochineal by Nest verch Tangwistel, Queen's A&S champion, and found it to match perfectly.
The sleeves were interlined with silk organza to give them more body and shape. Silk organza is a period fabric that is stiff and
while I have no direct evidence of it's use in interlining, it is a reasonable assumption. I lined the sleeves with black worsted wool of similar weight to the red 'fashion' fabric. There is extant evidence of gown bodices being lined in linen, and I used a red, tabby woven linen to line mine. The bodice is trimmed with strips of black fabric woven with gold embroidery along the neckline in the front and back, and a gold cord around the edge of the neckline.
The sleeves are in the Dogale cut, which means they are very full, slightly longer than the arm, and cone shaped. I cut my sleeves as very large rectangles, with the top and bottom having a slight dip in the center for the armseye. The red wool was interlined with silk organza to give it more body, especially in the pleats. Using the design on The Three Sisters I created a small slit in the seam, through which the lining, and an undersleeve (if worn) could be seen. This gown does not have undersleeves at this time.
The tops of the sleeves were cartridge pleated on both sides of the seam to reduce the opening to the desired size. It was difficult to gage how large the sleeves should be, considering that because they formed part of the neckline, there was no armseye to fit them into. The first time the sleeves were sewn to the bodice, there were too large, and the back of the bodice was too wide, resulting in the sleeves not staying on the shoulders. Measurements were taken, and the sleeves were re-pleated, while the back of the bodice was cut down.
Considering the importance of the tops of the sleeves to the overall structure of the gown, I sewed the cartridge pleats to twill tape, which was anchored to the bodice, creating a greater sense of security and strength.
The bodice was cut in two pieces, a front and a back. I relied on the source paintings as well as another contemporary piece, to justify my decision to use side openings.

To give the gown stability around those all-important sleeves, I sewed the sides closed two inches beneath the armseye. I used a hook and eye closure because it is a period method I hadn't tried before, and because it was easily available. It also met the need that this be a 'working' gown that I could get in and out of easily ('Easily' being a relative term when discussing Venetian). I did cheat here, in that I used hook and eye tape to save time and to relieve myself of the work of making sure the placement of the hooks and eyes was correct. The tape also adds of bit of stability to the gown openings, which is a plus. Of course, in period, the hooks and eyes would have been sewn on by hand.
To strengthen the bodice, it is lined with two layers of mid-weight tabby woven linen. I didn't do anything to stiffen the openings, judging that it would be unneeded, based on their location. In wearing the gown, I feel I needed more support in the bodice. The gown by itself is not enough, so I'm going to continue to look for a solution in another area, perhaps a pair of bodies. The nature of the wide neckline would make it unlikely that the theoretical pair of bodies would have any shoulder straps, so I am experimenting with a strapless, tube-shaped, corded bodice to see if that would produce the desired shape.
The trim, which is exclusively on the bodice, is simple black and gold trim that I purchased. I am not an embroiderer, and while I'm not averse to learning, for this project, (a working gown) I didn't feel the output of time and attention would be worth it. The trim is a woven scroll pattern, which is not perfect, but not a bad cheat for the period. I have a great deal of difficulty trimming my projects, so for me taking the time to pre-plan my trimming was an effort. I feel it was successful in this case, and definitely makes me feel more confident for my next project. The gold cord which edges the neckline was a design point I wavered on, and it wasn't until the gown was finished and on my dress-form that I finally decided it was needed. It is, however, a visible element of design on the gowns in The Three Sisters, and the Ingannati Pietrodegli portrait.
The skirt is made from two 60" panels that are cartridge pleated into the skirt. The pleating is sewn onto twill tape, and then covered on the inside by the bodice lining to stabilize them further. The pleating is completely hand sewn with two running threads to hold them in place. The panels themselves are plain rectangles because that was the best use of the remaining fabric that I had available. In period, the skirts would have been cut in a trapezoidal shape, with much more piecing, due to the width of the fabric.
While the historic aspect of Venetian fashion and their sleeve obsession is fascinating, I found that in ways I didn't expect, this gown really is all about the sleeves.
Fitting the bodice, because of the part the sleeves played in its structure, was a challenge for me. I'm very concerned about making gowns that fit correctly in the shoulders, and I had the opportunity here to see how exactly the physics of fitting that part of the body works. It was a type of experimentation that I hadn't done in the past, because I've always gone with a more conservative cut in the past, which placed the shoulder straps of the bodice further up on the body.
I also learned quite a bit about the sleeves by wearing the gown. The sleeves are very attractive when worn down and loose, as would be appropriate for a 'public' setting. They look very much like the artwork on which they are based. Even more interesting, however, was when I wore them pinned them up as seen in the Daughter of Herodias. The experience was surprising. The sleeves stayed up through a good deal of physical labor (packing for an event and loading the car) with only a straight pin holding them. I was able to do everything I had to do without the sleeves binding me in anyway, and (perhaps the most pleasing) the look was very close to the painting.
On a non-sleeve related note, I also learned that pre-planning my trim, which is something I tried for the first time here, is a very good idea. It took more time and attention than I expected (and many, many shopping trips) but I feel the finished look is close to the paintings, appropriate to the project, and not bad, considering I am not an embroiderer.
I look forward to using the lessons I learned on this project in my next work, which will probably be a court gown made from silk, with even larger sleeves, because, after all, I am a Venetian.