{"id":11462,"date":"2025-01-11T07:31:47","date_gmt":"2025-01-11T06:31:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/waltin.se\/josefinwaltinspinner\/?p=11462"},"modified":"2025-01-11T07:31:51","modified_gmt":"2025-01-11T06:31:51","slug":"victorian-walking-skirt","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/waltin.se\/josefinwaltinspinner\/victorian-walking-skirt\/","title":{"rendered":"Victorian walking skirt"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Sometimes you just need to make something, have had the making of it sizzling in your hands. This happened when I watched Bernadette Banner\u2019s tasteful video about making a modern length Victorian walking skirt. Spoiler alert: Apart from an occasional skirt twirl, there is no spinning in this post.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A couple of years ago I stumbled upon a video by Bernadette Banner<\/a>, a costume designer with a huge YouTube account where she documents the exploration, reconstruction and reinterpretation of fashion history. In the video she explores how she can create an Edwardian walking skirt in a contemporary length. For some reason I was totally fascinated by the project. I do have a soft spot for the late 19th century fashion, and I realized I needed to make a skirt for myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ensemble<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I am very happy with the result and astounded that it all went so well. It must be because of all the hand stitching. In the pictures I am wearing the skirt with a linen shift underneath, from the Berta\u2019s flax guild. I don\u2019t think it is visible, but it does a lot for the presentation of the skirt. I bought the bloomers a couple of weeks ago at a textile sale after the death of a textile antiquarian and reenactor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Flat front and gathered back for a silhouette typical for the Victorian era.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The jacket is my creation, including spindle spinning, two-end knitting and embroidery of the sleeves, weaving the bands and hand sewing the bodice. And some machine sewing. The blouse on the indoor pictures once belonged to one of my Austrian great-grandmothers and should be contemporary with the skirt model.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The model<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Bernadette refers In her video to a pattern from Truly Victorian<\/a>, and that\u2019s the pattern I bought too. I did browse through the description, but for the most part I followed Bernadette\u2019s clever guidance in the video.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The Victorian walking skirt in a modern length is finished! With pockets and rose lining. The blouse once belonged to one of my Austrian great- grandmothers and should be contemporary with the skirt model.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The skirt has seven gores, a simple waistband and a 20 centimeter [8 inch] stiffener panel at the bottom of the skirt. Bernadette has shortened the ankle length original model to about 60 centimeters [24 inches] from the waist, and added the stiffener at the new length. I chose a similar length for my skirt. Like Bernadette, I also added side pockets. The fitting is flat at the front and sides and gathered at the center back, giving the skirt a bell shape.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fabrics<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

My main fabric was a wool\/linen fishbone twill from an Austrian weaving mill, available for the members of the Berta\u2019s flax guild<\/a>. Earlier this winter I finished a pair of trousers<\/a> using the same fabric. I bought a linen\/cotton fabric with printed pink roses on Swedish eBay for the lining. I am a firm believer in roses for any lining. For the stiffener I used an antique coarse linen fabric, also from Berta\u2019s flax guild<\/a>. And oh, a diagonally striped scrap fabric for pockets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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A wool\/linen fishbone twill for the main fabric and a linen\/cotton rose print for the lining of the Victorian walking skirt.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The wool\/linen fabric is drapey and heavy, as is the antique linen fabric I used as a stiffener at the bottom of the skirt. All in all the skirt weighs one kilo.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Basting<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The skirt is flatlined, meaning that the main fabric and the lining are sewn together for every gore, as opposed to a lined fabric which is made up of two separate garments \u2013 one in the main fabric and one in the lining \u2013 and then sewn together at the edges. Apparently this technique was common in the Victorian era.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To succeed with flatlining without creases or bubbles, I basted every main fabric and lining counterpart together. This of course took time, but made the result so much neater and the process so much more relaxed than with a million pins. An I enjoyed sitting on the floor with the gores spread like sunrays around me, basting my little heart out. Once all the pieces were basted \u2013 main fabric gores with the lining, and the stiffener with more lining, I assembled them with my sewing machine, a 1965 Husqvarna 2000, way younger than the skirt model.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pressing<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

You may have heard this a thousand times, and so have I: Be sure to press your seams neatly. This time I did. I knew from when I sewed the pants in the same fabric that it is a bit mischievous, so I pressed the flatlined seams thoroughly with a towel and steam. And it did the trick. It really is such a simple technique, but often neglected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Trimming and hand felling<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Every seam was now four fabrics thick, which is not ideal. I can\u2019t change that, but I can ease the bulk by trimming the seam allowances. For the gores I trimmed the lining to be able to hand fell the seam allowance of the main fabric over and around it. Seven times. I didn\u2019t bother hand felling anything that would eventually be hidden by the stiffener, though.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The antique linen stiffener is trimmed underneath the rose linin (left)g, that I am hand felling onto the gore lining (right).<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The gathering at the back was a bit fiddly with the flatlined fabrics, but not much more than it would be with a single fabric. It looked a bit meager at first, but when I put the skirt on it was just right. I sewed the waistband onto the wrong side with the sewing machine and hand felled it on the right side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I sewed the skirt together with the stiffener at the bottom I trimmed the lining on the skirt part and the stiffener on the panel part. A thorough pressing and presto, a neat bottom seam. The final touch was the hand felling of the top of the stiffener panels.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Needle in hand<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

With the hand felling no seams and no raw edges are visible on either the right or the wrong side of the skirt. Oh, the satisfaction! And I quite enjoyed the hand stitching. A natural colour linen thread that I waxed, an antique silver thimble (from 1885, so contemporary-ish with the dress model) and a cushion on the floor and I was stitching away across the roses, happy as a clam.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Close-up
I\u2019m hand felling the panel lining onto the gore lining. To the left you can see the hand felled seam allowances of the gores.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Another sweet thing about hand stitching is the time it gives me to plan ahead. With a machine seam, anything can go remarkably wrong in a second \u2013 a fly sewn onto a trouser leg or a piece sewn back to front. I actually did sew the back pieces of the skirt panels the wrong way (one the machine), but with the tendency of the main fabric to fray I didn\u2019t\u2019 t want to risk ripping the seam, so I kept it that way (and attached the stiffener panels the wrong way too to match). But when I sewed by hand, the slow speed gives me the time to see and plan ahead. Many times I didn\u2019t even have to pin the seam allowances, I could just fold them as I went. There will be more hand sewing!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

You can find me in several social media:<\/h2>\n\n\n\n