#1840s trousers

[clove-pinks]

U.S. Government-issued sailor's trousers, hand-embroidered and made c. 1840. These were worn by saiIor Henry Vincent Gerrodette on special occasions during the Mexican-American War.

I would love to see more details of the embroidery, but the image in the Smithsonian online collections is small and low quality.

[daguerreotyping]

Daguerreotype of a dapper young surgeon equipped with sharp fashion sense and scalpel

[granma-sweetie]

i reckon this one might be a bit tough bc he is so distractingly goofy

immediately 1830s

[famouslysleepy]

researching french fashions trends for personal

projects reasons but the slow and miserable death of striking colors and flair in men’s fashion in throughout the 1800s is killing me killing me killing me killing me killing me killing me

WHERE DID ALL THE COLORS AND PIZZAZZ GO!!!

[vinceaddams]

Top 5 historic clothing items we should bring back into style (stockings on men, big cuffs on coats etc.)

Well I am very biased, because my everyday clothes are mostly 18th century menswear inspired, but for a list as short as 5 it's good to narrow it down!

1. 18th century shirts. Big puffy soft linen shirts. Best shirts. Comfiest shirts. Though tragically, since they get softer with more washing, they're at their absolute most comfortable right before they wear out.

(This one's from the post where I copied the tiddy-out violinist painting.) Besides being the nicest softest comfiest, they're also the most economical, being made entirely from rectangles. And they're versatile, they look good with lots of different garments! Someday I will do a very detailed youtube tutorial for my machine sewn shirt method. I've done so many now that I think I've finally got it down.

2. Adjustable waistbands. Why did this ever stop being a thing? 18th century breeches have lacing at the back, then in the 19th century trousers have a buckle tab. Now they do not, even though we're all still humans with bodies that change. (These are my orange silk breeches)

Do you know how many hours of my life I've spent taking in or letting out the waist seams of modern trousers? I don't know either, but I've been an alterations tailor since 2019, so it's got to be a fair amount.

All that waist altering wouldn't be necessary if they still made them adjustable! Waistlines fluctuate, so too should waistbands!!

3. Shoulder capes attached to coats. This was a thing in the late 18th century, and in the 19th, and I think into the early 20th too. It adds extra protection from the rain and snow, and it looks cool.

(c. 1812, The Met.)

(c. 1840-60, MFA Boston. The cape on this one is detachable)

You can make them long or short, and stack them up like pancakes or just have one. I've got 2 small ones on my corduroy coat, and one on my dark blue wool. Both cut from almost the same 1790's-ish pattern.

I also want to give a shoutout to fitted sleeves! I love me some two piece sleeves with a distinct elbow! And the coat pockets were bigger back then.

4. Indoor caps. I don't care what era or how fancy you go with it, I just want people to wear caps indoors when it's cold! This one's super simple, it's just a tube of linen tied with a ribbon.

(Detail from Le Marchand d’Orviétan ou l’opérateur Barri by Etienne Jeaurat, 1743.)

If it's cold in your apartment you need slippers for the feets and a cap for the head. Speaking of which.

5. Medieval hoods. This one is wayyy outside my usual era, but the wintery below-freezing weather has just started here and the knit hat I've been wearing isn't quite long enough to cover my ears. I want to make a simple hat with ear flaps, but I also wouldn't be opposed to trying to work something vaguely similar to this into my wardrobe. It looks so warm!

(Image source. Also she has a printable pattern available!) I actually made one of these once, an entire decade ago. But it was scratchy blanket wool and I've since given it away.

That's some of the main things I think we should bring back! There are lots of other things too, like men's nightgowns, and waistcoats with little scenes embroidered on them, but for this list I tried to be mostly practical.

[chopinski-official]

Chopin’s Wardrobe — What I Wore

Today I would like to share with you all the manner in which I dressed. It is interesting to see how fashions have changed over the course of 200 years. Some might say style has slipped… Anyway! Here are some details on my wardrobe:

My Suit

I liked to wear sober colours: black, mauve, blue… and especially grey. For instance, I once asked Julian Fontana to have made for me a pair of dark grey winter trousers, without a belt, which were smooth and stretchy.

Grey trousers, 1840.

At a concert in Glasgow, a pupil recalled that I had worn a pale grey suit. Which included a frock-coat of identical tint and texture.

(Left) Frock coat, 1840. (Right) Frock coat and trousers, 1852.

Under my suit, I would wear a modest waistcoat in a fabric such as a black velvet with a tiny inconspicuous pattern, something very quiet and elegant.

(Left) Provençal waistcoat with mauve silk seedlings, 1860. (Centre) Waistcoat with floral pattern, 1838. (Right) Striped waistcoat, 1850-70.

My preferred shirts were ones made of cambric or batiste fabric. They had small mother-of-pearl buttons, two breast-pockets, and could be bought for 14 francs.

For my cravat, I would wear muted colours during the day. Usually, I would tie it in a bow. However, when performing in a formal setting, I would wear a broad, white silk cravat.

Winter Clothes

To keep warm in the winter months, I wore a thick redingote or over-frock coat, as can be seen in this daguerreotype of myself from 1849.

(Left) Wool coat, 1840. (Centre) Winter costume. Paul Gavarni, 1846. (Right) Frock coat. Wool, trimmed with silk velvet. 1820-1830.

At one point, my sickness rendered me so sensitive to the cold that I wore three flannels under my trousers.

Underpants, mid-nineteenth century.

Accessories

Because I had small feet, I often found shoes uncomfortable. I mourned the day, Moos, my shoemaker died. No one made my shoes like him.

1840s men’s shoes.

On my head, I would always have my hair curled, and, when outdoors, I would wear a top hat. I bought my hats from Dupont’s because he made them lightweight. They were originally made of beaver felt but, by my later life, they were made of silk plush.

(Left) Top hat made of beaver felt, 1830s. (Right) Top hat made of silk plush, 1850.

My outfit was only complete with white gloves. Without them one would not be in good taste. Kid gloves were common, but I also liked wearing Swedish (suede) gloves. Always in white.

Evening gloves. 1848.

A pocket handkerchief was also a necessity.

Finally, I had a miniature pocket watch. According to one concert-goer, it was “In shape no bigger than an agate stone, on the forefinger of an alderman.”

Where did I shop?

I bought my top hats from Dupont’s at No 8, rue de Montblanc (the previous name for rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin). I lived on this street myself, both at No 5 (1833-36) and No 38 (1836-38).

(Left) 9, rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin, the fabric shop across the street from the milliners, 1840s. (Right) Rue de la Chaussée-d’Antin, 1858-1878.

My shirts came from No 37 in the Palais Royal galleries, on the theatre side.

(Left) View of the Galerie d'Orléans in the Palais-Royal, 1838. (Right) Jardin du Palais Royal, 1840s.

The white suede gloves could be acquired from À la Corbeille de Fleurs, Houbigant’s shop at No 19, rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré.

(Left) The corner of rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, 1820-1840. (Right) Faubourg Saint-Honoré, 1814-1885.

There were also many shops along the Grands Boulevards. This is where I got my trousers made by my tailor, Dautremont.

(Left) Boulevard de la Madeleine, 1799. (Right) Boulevard des Capucines, 1830.

Boulevard des Italiens, 1840s (left), 1835 (right).

So…

As you can see, in spite my reputation for being picky and perhaps… prissy, with regard to fashion and furniture, I was far from what was called a dandy. My dress was never over-the-top and nor did I put on the airs that were so pertinent to dandyism. My desire, if anything, was to be refined and respectable. Although, perhaps my efforts to do so were occasionally cause for frenzy or distraction.

[is-the-19thcentury-man-okay]

At left, the type of 1840s man that many people want, looking dashing in his evening costume and with the fashionable barrel chest and defined waist of his breed.

At right, a more typical example of the 1840s man that you will find at discount prices: note the striped trousers, huge paletot coat, and cigar.

This is the difference that proper vetting of your 19th century man can make! Of course, many people are happy with the Gent on the right and will gladly indulge his fashion habits and smoking.

[foreverrandomwritings]

Alliance Maker-Chapter 4

Summary: Some of the inner circle questions you about your life. Wounds that are still fresh get probed at. Many questions are still left unanswered.

Pairing: Slow burn! Azriel x Afab!Reader

Warnings: Hunting, death, torture, whipping... I think that's it, please let me know if there is more that I missed.

Word count: 1840 (Azriel isn't in this part but I promise that in the next chapter he will make an appearance.)

Masterlist Series Masterlist

You didn't have to wait long for the High Lady and High Lord. You had put on a pair of trousers and an oversized tunic that you had been informed was Azriels who was currently out on business. Cassian knew you would completely swim in his own so he had retrieved the slightly smaller one from his brother's room. The holes meant for wings left your back exposed. Your own wings had disappeared when you had gotten injured. 

You all sat around the dining room table. The tension in the air was like a heavy blanket. For some reason however you were calm. The scent coming off the shirt you were wearing was soothing you. They all stared at you for a while before you finally spoke up. 

“Young huntress, I'm glad to see you are doing so well! You’ve come a long way since your first day in the woods.” She looked at you with quizzical eyes. You gave her a mischievous smile in return. 

“I would occasionally watch you hunt when I got bored. Also wanted to make sure you weren’t going to do anything stupid enough to get yourself killed. You caught on mighty quick however.” The approval leaked out of your voice with your words as you gave her a gentle smile. 

“I had never realized you watched me.” She said to you with an uneasy waver in her voice. Rhysand picked up on the tone in her voice and gripped the arm of the chair he was in tightly. 

“It wasn’t very often since I’d mostly be helping my father around our house and shop. You also were never very good at watching out for other people. You were always too focused on the animals around you.” You said simply shrugging your shoulders in nonchalance. 

“Now onto the harder questions, who would like to go first?” You asked the group as your eyes flicked to each of them. 

“How are you a Fae?” Nesta asked first, it was the question she was desperately wanting to know. The question that had been eating away at her since she first found you. 

“I am cauldron made. The first one thrown in as a simple mortal and dumped out a gifted Fae.” You said as your thoughts drifted slightly to the feeling of being embraced by the cauldron. You were quick to snap back to the reality in front of you not liking to dwell on the past. Nesta gave you a look of understanding. But the group had looks of indifference. You being cauldron made did make the most sense. But on the other hand they also didn’t realize there had been someone changed before Elain. 

“How did you come across the wall?” Rhysand asked you voice full of apprehension as he still struggled to wrap his head around you. 

“There were about ten of Hyberns men scrounging through the woods. I had been hunting when they found me. I knew it was dangerous being so close to the wall but I’ve always liked a thrill. I really should’ve known better since Feyre went missing after killing that fae wolf Andras.” You nodded towards the female across from you. There was a look of surprise on their face at the mention of the male that had sacrificed his life for the good of his High Lord. 

“I tried to take them down but they poisoned me with something before I had the opportunity to unleash hell.” Your nose scrunched up at the memory of the disgusting smell the poison had given off. Everyone around the table had a look of understanding in their eyes.

“I killed three of them before it fully took over my body. Which was something I paid for later on.” The gashes along your back seemed to burn as though you had been getting whipped once again. You shifted ever so slightly in your seat, willing the unwanted feeling away. 

“You’re about the age for a female to be married over there so did you leave a husband behind?” You shook your head at Cassian's question, thankful for the change of subject. Even if the question was slightly misogynistic.  

“I was taken from my father and that was all. I have been trying to contact him since escaping.” The thought of not having seen your father in so long sinking in had your voice lowering. It was the longest you’d ever gone without speaking to or seeing him. 

“Where is he at?” Came from Feyre, your eyes connected to hers before focusing on the windows behind her. 

“I’m guessing he is somewhere over here. I went back to our home and there was no sign of him there. Then I heard whispers of the Fae that had come and saved them to give them solace over here. To save them from a disastrous fate. I’m hoping he is safe and that I’ll be able to see him again one day.” You missed your father so much your chest started to hurt as the hope filled your heart of finally being able to see him again. Finally being able to embrace him and hear him call you the beloved nickname he had bestowed upon you many years ago is all you had hoped for. But you had refused to find him until you were somewhere safe. Somewhere that you could call home and could build a life. 

“You had wings when we found you but now they are gone.” Cassian said it with an even yet curious tone. You smiled at that and thanked the cauldron for the open back chair and slits in the shirt you were in as you popped the wings back out. 

“The cauldron was very generous.” You stretched your wings out and let out a sigh of relief. The feeling of them stretching your back caused a soothing ache to run through your body. You also didn’t miss the look Rhysand and Feyre gave each other, the only ones that they knew of that grew wings on their own command were themselves. 

“Those are different from illyrian wings.” This time it was Emerie that spoke up. She was right they were more like the wings of a beast not seen for centuries before Rhysand was even born. They were black as night and pure cobalt blue, the wingspan larger than that of an Illyrian. They were slightly thicker than their wings and went farther down your back by about half a foot. The similarities were the five sharp spikes at the bottom of each wing and a singular sharp spike at the top of each end. 

“Yes yes. I’ve been told it’s likely because I have a different form waiting inside of me to be let out.” You drummed your fingers along the table as you thought about the first time the wings had shown up. It was after you had escaped and you were extremely grateful that they had shown up when they did. They did a splendid job of shielding you until you learned how to fly with them. 

“And who told you that?” Your eyes found the short yet powerful Fae at the table. Amren you’d take it from the description you’d previously been told. She had arrived with Rhysand and Feyre. 

“Helion.” The one name answer seemed to shock everyone around the table. Yet Amren simply narrowed her eyes at you. She was trying to find a reason to tell her High Lord and High Lady to send you back where you came from. 

“And how were you able to get a visit with him?” Rhysand was sitting up straighter in his chair. Helion wasn’t known for being malicious or blind eyed. But taking a visit with a stranger that belonged to no court seemed a bit far fetched. 

“I asked nicely.” The grin you gave him was purely feline and proud. Cassian snorted at the answer though causing you to send him a wink. 

“Why didn’t we see you while we were within the walls of Hybern?” Nesta asked the question lightly. She didn’t like thinking of the experience so she wasn’t sure how you’d react thinking about it. 

“I fought tooth and nail so you wouldn’t. I didn’t want you to see me as I was.” Your mouth grew dry as you finished your sentence. You looked down at the table and started scratching at a non-existent chip with your fingernail. A glass of water was placed next to your hand causing you to stop. You took it greatfully and gulped it down. When you looked back up there were many eyes looking at you that were full of pity. The High Lord went to open his mouth but you cut him off. 

“It is not a subject I would like to talk about. If you don’t mind, I would like for that to be the end of it.” Hands forming into fists you held his stare. He broke it when a hand laid upon his arm. He glanced to the side and Feyre was looking at him, they had a silent conversation before he turned back and nodded at you. 

“Please don’t try to enter my mind again either.” You had felt him trying while you were unconscious. Luckily your shields were still up while you were in your temporary coma. He kept his surprise and embarrassment off his face. Though you could see it in the way he flexed his hand and looked down at his shirt for lint that wasn’t there.

“You must be starving.” It was Feyre that broke the tension. Your stomach chose that moment to let out a large growl in reply. Then the house was setting down food in front of everyone. 

“Uhm?” You looked at the food and then up at Nesta. Then your mind snapped back to the water that you didn't hear anyone get up to give you. 

“The house is kind of sentient.” She gave you a bored look, the others had already started eating. 

“Thank you House.” You called out and in reply you got a plate of berry cobbler. Cassian then mumbled under his breath that he wanted some to but the house only answered with a glass of water. 

“How would you feel about coming to training in the morning?” Cassian’s question had you looking at him while picking up a fork to dig into your dinner.

“I would love to. I haven’t had anyone to train with in a while.” your mind went to your time spent in Dawn, training with the guard there many months ago. A smile graced your lips at the thought of being able to see Thesan and his lover again in the future. The group of you ate in mostly silence. They occasionally talked about the High Lord and High lady’s son Nyx. There was talk about Mor and Azriel. You went to bed that night wrapped in Azriel's shirt, the smell lulling you into your first nightmare-less dream since escaping Hyberns grasp.

A/N: The next chapter will get things cooking a bit. Thank you all so much for reading, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

Tags(open): @theeleggymeggy @wolfsbane44 @moonlwghts @maddietheshoe @hyemishii @fanboyluvr @kmc1989 @acourtofinkandpapyrus @luvmoo

[telekinetictrait]

"All the hopes, fears, capabilities of her nature were yet folded around her like the wings within a chrysalis." (Marian Withers – Geraldine Jewsbury, 1851)

the next decade in the timeline: the 1850s. a decade of large social turmoil and even larger skirts. these skirts were created by layering numerous petticoats, which made it unwieldy, uncomfortable, and at times unsafe. that is, up until cage crinoline of 1856! this allowed for skirts to continue to grow even further than before. another development that shifted fashion were the improvements in the sewing machine. these improvements and mass production of the singer sewing machine allowed for even the lower classes to take part in fashion trends. we also see a more "natural" waistline (natural in where it lays on the body) and soft, drooping shoulders. once again, i deviated in one outfit. i know it's technically a swimsuit. but when i saw it, it reminded me of this illustration of amelia bloomer, who famously made a stir with elizabeth smith miller and elizabeth cady stanton in 1851 when they began to wear loose trousers paired with shorter dresses, now referred to as "bloomer suits". this never caught on, but it's an important moment in the history of women's fashion in america.

1800-1809 / 1810-1819 / 1820-1829 / 1830-1839 / 1840-1849

cc links under the cut!

see my resources page

farrah : simstomaggie's sennui hair / the-melancholy-maiden's 1850s hair flowers / mysteriousoo's long dress with ruffled underskirt and belt (tsr download) / huiernxoxo's love bonito gloves

fern : simstomaggie's rhaenyra hair / imadako's girls school uniform accessory bolero jacket + tie / vintagesimstress' 1858 bathing suit / gilded-ghosts' hartfield boots

fhaye : the-melancholy-maiden's oregon trail bonnets / rrtt's sifix maria dress recolor

filene : simstomaggie's rosa hair / batsfromwesteros' elisabeth winter set

fjóla : simstomaggie's rosa hair / the-melancholy-maiden's 1850s hair flowers / vintagesimstress' 1850's cecile opera dress

fleurette : linzlu's fancy bonnet / teanmoon's beautiful belle dress / huiernxoxo's love bonito gloves

forsythia : buzzardly28's 1850s braids / the-melancholy-maiden's 1850s hair flowers / vintagesimstress's maggie skirt / huiernxoxo's love bonito gloves

fritzi : linzlu's birthday bonnet / buzzardly28's 1850s dreadlocks / teanmoon's radiently ruffled gown / huiernxoxo's love bonito gloves

fuscienne : lace-and-honey's linzlu prairie bonnet conversion / pandorasimbox's emmilene day dress

fyodora : the-melancholy-maiden's oregon trail bonnets / simstomaggie's rosa hair / simstomaggie's vanta dress / huiernxoxo's love bonito gloves

thank you to @simstomaggie @the-melancholy-maiden @huiernxoxo @imadako @vintagesimstress @gilded-ghosts @batsfromwesteros @linzlu @teanmoon @buzzardly28 @lace-and-honey and @pandorasimbox !!

[blairstales]

Piece of History: ⛏️Pit Brow Lasses

Pit brow workers at Wigan Junction Colliery near Wigan, Lancashire, 1900. Their trousers are barely visible below their long skirts

Woman bearers of coal.

"A Commission was set up in 1840 and called The Children's Employment Commission.  During the course of the investigation it was extended to include women. The legislation was passed in 1842 and called The Mines and Collieries Act. It stipulated that boys under 10 and ALL FEMALES  - so girls AND women - be banned from working below ground.   It stated that within three months, all females who were under 18 years of age had to cease underground working. It would be several years before this became a reality as some women wanted to continue to work underground.  However,  the 1842 Act did not forbid girls and women working on the surface within the colliery, and it was these people who came to be known as Pit Brow Lasses." Wigan Local History

A group of female pit brow workers.

[metmuseum]

Trousers. 1840–60. Credit line: Brooklyn Museum Costume Collection at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of the Brooklyn Museum, 2009; Gift of the estate of Sarah B. Russell, 1956 https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/173931

[penig]

So Scrooge is terrified by the apparition of his old partner, and his first response to that is to try to get one up on it, to embarrass it and make it uncomfortable. Only when that fails does he move on to what for most people would be Step One, rationalization. But rationalization is no good to him, because he does believe in this ghost, and it’s Looking at him, and he can’t bear it - not for the last time in this story, he breaks.

Lack of detailed knowledge of men’s fashion made it a little hard for me to envision Marley, and the My Weekly Reader paperback Iwas reading had no helpful illustration. I also didn’t know - how could I? - that the mouths of corpses had to be bound closed to prevent post-mortem processes from drawing the mouth open so that the corpse greeted visitors with a hideous grimace, so that was a random grotesquerie to my juvenile mind. All this, and the bristling of Marley’s tassels and hair as if, despite the cold, agitated by waves of hot air, combine to place this transparent entity in a liminal state, half physical and present, half in some immaterial Hellspace.

As is often true of Dickens’s elderly gentlemen, Marley has not updated his wardrobe with the advance of the 19th century. By the 1840’s, trousers were standard menswear, and tasseled Hessian boots and pigtails were passé, but seven years ago Marley still wore them and was buried in them and in knee breeches and tights. It is hard for me to parse what Dickens intended when he dressed his elderly men this way, but presumably it signaled something to his original audience- conservatism, perhaps; or extreme frugality; or (an affectation of) indifference to fashion.

Regardless of degree of comprehension of the precise details, though, the horror of the scene is vivid, and the sudden collapse of Scrooge’s defenses fully justified. Moreover, Marley is fully present as a person as well as a horror. We are told that he and Scrooge were cut from the same cloth, and Marley clearly knows how to tackle his old partner, countering each of his defensive moves without raising a sweat or yielding an inch of ground. The power move of undoing the wrapper is perfectly timed and gains him control of the conversation. I suspect this was their usual dynamic, with one or the other gaining the upper hand depending on circumstances as well as verbal skill, rather than one being dominant over the other.

It’s possible that Scrooge has missed it, and that his combative attitude towards everyone he’s spoken to so far is part of a search for a replacement, someone he can relate to and still struggle with.

[ohtobealady]

Things Given to Tomorrow, Chapter Sixteen

See you next week with another installment! We're doing this thing! :D

Preview for Chapter Sixteen under the cut:

Her aunt’s trousered knee brushed softly against her own, and Sybbie glanced to her at her right. Aunt Edith smiled very, very briefly to acknowledge the contact, but they didn’t speak. They couldn’t. The journalist sat in the chair near the sitting room door, the fireplace at his left side warm, crackling, and inviting as he scratched down the date and names of the people sitting nearest him: Lady Mary Talbot, George Crawley, and the young Matthew Crawley. Donk sat in a chair on his own —the heavy, needle-pointed thing pulled to the center of the rug, closer to the journalist, to the photographer — in pride of place. Edith and Sybbie sat behind the couch, near the piano, watching. Sybbie heard the camera the photographer held take a photo beside her, and she looked up at him, catching his eye for a moment before he turned away. 

Her eyes went back to Donk. 

“So, just to confirm what we’ve discussed,” the journalist flipped notebook papers over and read from them, “The central piece of the house was the monks' refectory of an abbey that King Henry sold after the Dissolution of the Monasteries. It developed over time as a residential home and country seat for the Earl of Grantham, being first built in 1679. Erm … The house as we know it now was redesigned by the famous architect Sir Charles Barry in the 1840s. Yes?”

Donk didn’t nod, but lifted his white brows. 

“Of course great houses take quite a lot of funding and revenue to operate and in the 1880s, it was in danger of being sold away piecemeal?”

Mary sat straighter. “Well, not exactly piecemeal, but there were some debts, yes.”

Sybbie noticed that the journalist made no corrections in his notebook, but muttered a small, “Alright. But, in danger, nonetheless?”

“Yes, but —“

“It would have gone. Yes,” George added.

The journalist nodded. “And in the fashion of the many other American heiresses, the late Lady Grantham saved the estate in 18…90. Early 1890.”

“‘In the fashion’ you say?”

Sybbie watched Donk blink at the journalist who quickly met Aunt Mary’s eye and then looked back at him. 

“Well, we’re going to discuss how there was such an influx of American heiresses in the late 1800s. Jennie Jerome, that is, Lady Randolph Churchill; Conseulo Montagu, the Duchess of Manchester —“

“Lady Grantham’s story isn’t quite the same as theirs.”

[josefavomjaaga]

Murat in Königsberg, December 1812

While looking for more information of a certain general Loison I came across something much better: A Saxon report of Murat reviewing troops in Königsberg, while he was at the head of the Grande Armée, after the retreat from Russia and after Napoleon had gone home to warm cuddly Paris. Enjoy.

(Translated from: Karl Geissler, Geschichte des Regiments Herzoge zu Sachsen unter Napoleon mit der großen Armee im rußischen Feldzuge 1812, Jena 1840)

Even though the King of Naples, who immediately had the troops take up their arms before he descended, won everyone's heart at this inspection by his immense affability, he was particularly friendly towards the regiment of the Dukes of Saxony.

He first greeted it with the call: "Ah, ces braves Saxons!" and then expressed unconditional praise for its previous conduct towards Colonel v. Egloffstein.

He was less friendly towards the other regimental commanders, and as far as the 6th Regiment in particular was concerned, one even thought to hear the words: "que vous méritez des reproches", which perhaps referred to the above-mentioned, partly unsuccessful escorting of some money sledges.

Murat then had the regiments paraded before him and his brilliant entourage, with the remnants of the French and Italian regiments No. 1, 3, 29, 105 and 113 leading the way accompanied by the thousand-voiced cry of joy, "Vive l'empereur!"; then followed the Frankfurt and the ducal Saxon regiments, also shouting, "Long live the emperor!" and finally the 5th and 6th, both of which marched by in silence.

During this revue we had a very good opportunity to get a close-up view of King Murat, who attracted everyone's attention with his stature, expensive costume and rich harness. His face, his beautiful black eyes and black curly hair, which fell down on his kurtka, - a Polish suit, whose tight sleeves had an opening under the armpits - captured the eye. The collar was richly embroidered with gold, and a golden belt was fastened around this garment, from which hung a light sword with a straight blade, Roman style, without edge or guard. He wore wide amaranth-coloured trousers and yellow gold-spurred boots. -- The splendour of these clothes, which were covered by a green gold-embroidered coat, was further enhanced by a square red Polish chako with broad gold embroidery and a plume of four large ostrich feathers falling back, from the centre of which rose a magnificent heron feather. The saddle and stirrups were gilded and of Turkish shape. The horse was covered with a gold-embroidered sky-blue saddlecloth and the bridle, appropriately, was truly magnificent. Murat's entourage, of course, was also rich and brilliant, but it was nowhere close to him. He, the only medieval character of romantic poetry in the French army, outshone them all and in his tight-fitting kurtka, in his yellow or nanking-coloured riding boots, with his ostrich feather ornament proudly swaying around the Polish sammet cap on the Andalusian steed, stood out wonderfully against the heavy gold-embroidered marshals' uniforms and the soldiers of the French army. Napoleon, however, appreciated these distinguishing elements of his brother-in-law, who, like a knight of the Round Table, like a modern paladin of love and honour, shone with his dark eye and long hair among the heroes who surrounded the Emperor. Murat was, as mentioned above, the soul of French cavalry, a true Chevalier reminiscent of the Troubadours, with all the charm of romanticism, all the courage, daring and bravery of earlier times, as graceful as it is sublime in legends and fairy tales.

I’d say Murat, in those final days of the empire, still managed to get himself some fans.

[cedarboots]

I found your blog via a the historical clothing tag and I love your 1840s pants and the waistcoats and shirts you posted! As a somewhat butch/androgynous person who really likes historical fashion but is worried it's too binary for me to make it work, I'm curious how you find inspiration and ideas of what you historical clothing will fit your vibe, and how have you adjusted patterns to work for you?

Hi there-- thanks for stopping by! I am no expert but I will give you my thoughts.

I pretty much only wear men's clothing, and the same goes for historical fashion-- the trousers I made and some other garments are from Black Snail Patterns, which I found to have accurate patterns that were pretty easy to follow.

In terms of historical fashion being binary: it's definitely true that most available patterns out there are for either men's or women's clothing, because fashion in a lot of eras has been pretty sharply divided by gender. However, those gender norms can differ pretty wildly from our own, and some clothes that might have been seen as conventionally masculine in the past (silk stockings, ruffled shirt-fronts) can read as more androgynous in the present.

Also-- you do not have to abide by historical binaries! You can wear stays with knee breeches, or a tie-on pocket with a waistcoat! If you are just looking for clothes you enjoy, and not for reenactment events or something where strict accuracy matters, the most important thing is finding something that works for you fashion-wise and gender-wise.

The trick is definitely finding masculine patterns that will fit non-cis-male bodies. Learning a little about pattern drafting can help-- that way you can take your measurements and adjust patterns to fit you, and even make your own patterns if you can't find any that work for you. Some older garments are actually more forgiving than modern ones; I followed Marius Lee's video to make my 18th-century shirt, and it was mostly big rectangles, which did not require a lot of adjusting for body type. Even though I hate making mockups, I recommend making yourself do it, so you can see if you need to fix the pattern before you chop up your good fabric.

@vinceaddams has some incredible resources on 18th-century menswear, and @rowzien has some more 19th-century examples that are amazing-- I would recommend checking out their blogs!

Hope this helps!

[sab-cat]

It's finally finished! 10 weeks of work has culminated in an entire 1840s mens ensemble. I even managed to squeeze a few accessories in at the very end. If anything, I'm just even more impressed with the costume design and construction for The Muppets Christmas Carol. They didn't have to include all of the extra layers and accuracy, but they did!

The final tally for the Victorian Gonzo ensemble is 11 major pieces: shirt, trousers, braces, waistcoat, stockings, shoes, cravat, tailcoat, overcoat, gloves, and hat. Though I have often heard exclamations over how many layers women wore in the 19th century along with the myth of how difficult that must of been, we can't ignore that men wore a similar number! This is a winter ensemble with the overcoat, but that's the only additional garment for the weather- otherwise changes would have been made to the textiles and construction techniques to deal with heat.

While this project was aimed at 1842, the year that Charles Dickens was working on A Christmas Carol, the basic construction of the many pieces holds fast for quite a few years either direction. Sewing machines begin to take over in the coming years, but it's a long time before the techniques change to fully accommodate the new technology.

There are videos of the entire process, including research. So if you're interested in men's fashion during Dickens' day or just dressing as Victorian Gonzo, here ya go.