New tutorial lite: Drafting a grande assiette-style upper sleeve from measurements

Another workshop I held during my California trip was on the topic of fitting a grande assiette sleeve in the style of the Charles de Blois pourpoint. I did a quick demo on draping the upper sleeve directly on the body, followed by instructions for drafting the upper sleeve, gores and all, with measurements. I developed a simplified way to take five measurements, derive four more, and then draft the three gore shapes and the upper sleeve itself.

I provided a worksheet with instructions for taking the initial measurements and deriving the additional ones from them. I also provided diagrams of the shapes and how the measurements now applied to those shapes. I had the attendees practice the method themselves, using wide paper, calculators, pencils (and string for make-shift compasses), and a yardstick. Everyone was able to run through all the steps with minimal input from me, which tells me it’s pretty easy to understand, provided you can do some very basic algebra.

The point of this exercise was to show how a complex pattern like the grande assiette upper sleeve can be broken down to basic geometric shapes defined by related measurements. With that in mind, I did simplify it in a number of ways, most notable being that the front gore and the underarm gore are the same length in my worksheet. In the original, the underarm gore is a bit shorter than the front gore. However, I think that once you try this method out, you will be able to make adjustments, either by changing the math slightly or by making adjustments on the body itself.

The link below opens the page I put up in the Tutorials section. At the bottom of that page is the link to the worksheet.

Try it out! See if you like it. Tell me what you think.

Drafting a grande assiette-style upper sleeve from measurements, or: Drafting with your new friend, Math!

Fourteenth Century Clothing Workshops in California

On Saturday, April 13th, at Loyola Hall on the campus of Santa Clara University, I presented an afternoon of immersion into the tailoring of two famous French pourpoints dated to the fourteenth century: The Charles VI and the Charles de Blois. It is impossible to study fourteenth century clothing without paying at least some attention to these two rare garments. I began by presenting a summary of the data I gathered on the pourpoint at the Musée des Beaux-Arts of Chartres, France, purported to have been worn by Charles VI of France. My study of the garment in July 2011 yielded fascinating new understanding of the construction details which the historical clothing community at large has not yet seen for this garment. Excellent discussion ensued throughout the presentation, and I had a great time sharing the material with such engaged attendees. When my slide lecture was through, I invited folks to examine the reproduction I’d made and to ask further questions.

After a break, we resumed, this time on the topic of the grande assiette, which is the French term for a form of tailoring seen in the 14th and 15th century, particularly in France. The armholes of a grande assiette garment were cut exceedingly large, and the sleeve cap required to fill that space was created with the use of triangular gores. By modern standards, this is an unusual way to cut a sleeved garment, and for many, translating the 2-D pattern pieces to 3-D is a challenge.

Grande assiette geometry for drafting

Grande assiette geometry for drafting by Tasha Kelly

Following a quick overview of evidence for this tailoring technique in the period mentioned, I demonstrated a way to drape the upper sleeve, including the gores. Next I demonstrated an easy way to use measurements to draft the upper sleeve, including gores. I had asked participants to bring a calculator (smart phones would do), their own measuring tape, and a yard stick. My hosts and I supplied paper, pencils, and string for make-shift compasses. Each participant was given a worksheet on which they recorded five measurements taken on their own body. These were labeled m1 through m5. Next, they derived four more measurements from provided equations, which were labeled mA through mD. Lastly, they drafted the upper sleeve and three different gores—one for the front, one under the arm, and one for the back (which would need to be cut twice). The simplified drafting mimics the pattern used on the pourpoint of Charles de Blois, the most famous extant example of the grande assiette tailoring technique. The goal of this exercise was to show how geometry can easily be used to draft seemingly complicated patterns.

A fair number of us retired to the Fault Line Brewery in Sunnyvale for dinner where I further got to know the fun folks who’d come out for the day. I was served a gigantic bowl of seafood gumbo which after eating two-thirds of it, I thought I might burst.

The next morning at 10AM, I held a fitting workshop for creating a 4- panel draped pattern to use in making a bust-supportive dress. This style of dress can serve as the foundation fashion layer for women who wish to recreate a popular look portrayed throughout the latter half of the 14th century, all over Europe. There are two basic schools of thought on this—curving the center-front seam, and keeping it straight. The benefit of the latter is that it also allows you to eliminate the center-front seam altogether and put lacing on one or both side seams. However, the former is my first love, so that is the method I taught. I also think it’s easier to get right on the body than the straight-front seam is, due to the subtleties of fit required around the side seams and armholes to make the bust look nice. I had asked everyone to bring a couple of yards of linen with them, which we used as the base fabric for the draping.

Fitting for 14th century Bust Support

A group of ladies fitting each other. Photo by Cilean Sterling.

Our hosts’ home is beautiful and there was lots of open room for people to work. I asked everyone to pair up while I grabbed one friend and fit her as a demonstration. Everyone quickly followed along, picking up on the concepts right away. We took a break for a pot-luck snacking/light lunch fortification, and then got back to work, this time switching roles, so that whomever had been fit became the fitter in the next round.

It was a great weekend. Everyone I met was a ton of fun to get to know. This was the perfect group of people—extremely welcoming and such quick studies. My hosts, Debora and Robert, were a delight, and beyond generous. Thank you, California, for your hospitality.


The cotehardie that ate my brain!

My sweetheart’s birthday is in early November. He gently suggested I might make him something historically-themed and  fine to wear. I thought this was a capital idea, given my experience and interests. I decided to make him a cotehardie in the style of Charles de Blois. I have my own pattern for easy fitting, after all, and I even had enough of the fine lampas I used for the Charles VI recreation left over to use. I was off to the races.

Greg hanging out with a circa 1400 harness

Greg hanging out with a circa 1400 harness

I took measurements and then altered the sleeves on my commercial pattern for a size 42 chest. Greg has really long arms, so I knew better than to go with the pre-sized sleeves. I lengthened them by a good three inches, adding room to the upper arm piece, the forearm piece, and the cuff. Next, I ran the pattern up using a bubblegum-pink linen I had in my stash but knew I’d never have the heart to use for a finished garment. I don’t usually waste linen on a mock-up, but this color was hopeless with respect to my tastes, so it might as well be put to use.

Because Greg lives some distance from me, I mailed him this atrocity and had him try it on while we were Skyping. I took notes for alterations and he mailed it back to me. I reworked it slightly and mailed it to him again. This time the fit was correct. I proceeded to cut out the good stuff.

This is where most people quail. The fabric cost me $58 a yard (a bargain really; it originally retailed for about $300 a yard). But I’m weird and unafraid of cutting expensive fabric. I’m sure this s a fault, not a positive, but so far so good. Ironically, as gorgeous and complex as this silk lampas is, the pattern on it is not medieval. At best, it’s 18th century.

I sewed up the fashion layer and the lining, which incidentally is made from a gorgeous natural herringbone linen which I scored for $2 a yard in a private sale from a retired seamstress. This was the super-easy part. Next came hand-finishing, making all the buttons, and the dreaded buttonholes. By now, Greg’s birthday had come and gone and I was only getting started.

Somewhere around mid-November I began making buttons. And making them. And making them some more. All together, this cote ended up with 67 hand-made buttons. Which meant 67 buttonholes. *gulp*

A surfeit of buttons

A surfeit of buttons

I do believe the buttonholes drove me slightly mad. I had no time for anything else aside from making dinner, attending to my son’s homework and bedtime routine, and going to my day job. When I finally finished, it was the night before Greg was to wear it, this past weekend, at a Yule celebration held by friends of ours in Connecticut. But it got finished! And, it looked pretty spiff, if I say so myself. Greg was happy with it, which is what counts.

Tasha and Greg before the Christmas tree

Tasha and Greg before the Christmas tree