April 15th, 2013
Most of my textile work to date has been focused on garments. Imagine my excitement (and trepidation) as I embark upon my first upholstery project!
The book I’m using for reference — a gift from a dear friend — suggests a small tufted footstool would be good for my initial endeavor. But I don’t believe in starting slowly.
Here’s the turn-of-the-century parlor suite I’m going to upholster. Without knowing much about wood, I’m going to guess it’s oak. There’s a sofa, a divan, an arm chair, and two side chairs. My mother found them, in this condition, years ago in an East Coast antique store. Her baby brother (whose childhood nickname was Flash) convinced her to buy the lot on the spot. My father was not so quick to appreciate it however, and it lingered in their basement for over a decade before Mom decided to ship them out to me in California. Actually, they’re just the thing for our early 1920s redwood cabin living room. (The house was originally just the single room — later 20th-century additions expanded it to a luxurious 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths.)
The carving is very art nouveau!
Legs on metal casters are typical of parlor furniture from the second half of the 19th century through the early 20th. They made the heavy pieces easy to move around on carpet so the rooms could be rearranged for various uses.
Don’t you just love the open arms? And they’re very strong. The whole thing is quite solid actually.
I sort of wonder who removed the original upholstery — was it the antique store? Perhaps it was in such tatters that they thought the pieces would sell better without it. Or maybe there was some awful intermediate treatment featuring cartoonish flowers from the 1970s…regardless, it’s completely gone. It’s a shame, since the suite would be much more interesting, not to mention valuable, if it were intact. But then I would have to worry about ruining it by using it. So maybe it’s better this way.
I wonder how common these suites actually are? Here’s a page from the 1897 Sears & Roebuck reprint, featuring a couple of similar sets (the two on the bottom):
Based on this, it looks like my suite is missing the rocker. Darn! I adore rocking chairs.
July 18th, 2012
I seem to have a one-track mind lately. When I’m not poring over historical underwear, I’m sewing modern reproductions of it. This is for another Kestos-esque brassiere.
It’s positioned so that the stem will run right into the shoulder strap, and the stamens end just above the bust point. Best of all, since the fabric is cut on the bias, the flower stretches and changes shape with every breath. Of course, it’s unlikely that anyone will see it, since it is, after all, underwear.
I think the stamens need little pale purple dots on each end. I considered beads, but that would be inconvenient for washing. And might look odd under a closely fitted top.