Showing posts with label stripes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stripes. Show all posts

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Turkesque Autumn Entari

Going over my wardrobe plans for Highland War I realized I was about half an outfit short, so I decided to break my self-imposed ban on new projects to actually turn my corded velvet into something wearable. I started out making an entari to reasonably period-accurate specifications, but I decided to do a sleeveless design. I'll probably add sleeves later in the season as colder wars come up.

Then I realized that because this fabric is heavy, drapey, and striped, the straight-cut period design didn't fit exactly right and looked very very square, whereas the lighter fabric I used last time hugged my shape really well with the original design. In any case, I decided to add subtle waist curves, which made for a much more flattering fit.

In the long term, I'll want to match this with a different gomlek, because the neckline of the gomlek is a little lower than the neckline of the entari, and that looks a bit silly. I also don't really like the bunchy sleeves with the sleeveless entari, so I think the next gomlek I make will be straight-sleeved, with a high, round collar.

What's Period About it?

  • Material: under debate! I was of the impression that corded velvet was period-accurate, but I'm having trouble finding nonverbal evidence online. That doesn't mean the evidence doesn't exist, but the source is, in hindsight, somewhat dubious, so I'm setting about to do some more research.
What's NOT Period About it?
  • Color: As with the other piece, this is a little bit too subdued in terms of colors. Also, stripes were worn by the lower classes, whereas velvets weren't. 
  • Closures: Entari closures are typically button-and-loop or long frogs. I used metal hook-and-eye style broaches. I thought the gold leaves fit well with the autumn colors of the fabric, and since I knew I already wasn't going 100% period, I was less worried about straying than usual.
  • Cut: as mentioned, the cut should be straight through the waist, and instead it's curved. I could have avoided this by starting my gores higher and cutting the waist seams straight but at a slight diagonal, but I didn't, so there we have it. As a result of both the tailoring and the fact that I cut it just an eensie bit too big, there isn't as much bust support as the green cotton entari offers, so I'll have to wear a bra with it.
  • Sleeves: there aren't any, and there ought to be.
This is why I listed it as Turkeque. "Turkish" gives it far too much credit. It's more of a costume piece than an actual recreation, but it's pretty, and it's comfortable, and I'm ok with that.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Finished Turkish Outfit

As promised, finished entari with the rest of the outfit.


1. white cotton gomlek. You can't tell with the entari over it, but the gomlek is slit from the neck to the waist. The sleeves are extra-long because these are the sleeves that bunch up from the wrist to the elbow.

2. Black cotton pants. I'm cheating, because these are not really salwar but are loose, baggy pants that have a similar look, and they don't show a whole lot, so I'm not worried about it.

3. The entari itself, in all its recycled glory

4. Silk belt. I'm still figuring out what the belt situation should look like, but this is what I have for now.

Historical note: the front corners of the entari could have been worn down (as on the left) or tucked into the belt (as on the right) but not mixed. I did one up and one down to demonstrate the two ways it could be worn, and to more easily show the layers underneath. I'm probably going to be wearing mine down, since most of the ones worn up have a wide strip of silk on the inside edge as a decoration, and mine does not. Yet.

What's Period About it?

  • Entari & Gomlek (mostly): cut & construction. The overall shape and construction of the entari conforms to period examples, creating an appropriate body line and providing bust support. The gomlek's sleeves are cut extra-long and bunched up the arms to create folds, a popular Turkish style.
  • Layering: the layering shown here is appropriate for a Turkish lady who is hanging out inside. To leave the house, I'll add at least one more outer layer. I might also have another inner layer from shoulders to thigh, which would be barely visible.
  • Material (kinda): pretty much this entire outfit is cotton, which was available to Turkish women through trade with Egypt, but it wasn't really popular for any of these garments. It's passable, but not ideal. I used cotton because I had these fabrics on hand.
What's NOT period about it?
  • Colors: the salvar and belt are black, which was considered an evil color. Additionally, salvar were typically either white or a patterened color, so a solid color would be unusual. The green of the entari is a duller than what would have been available to a Turkish woman of the 16th century.
  • Closures: The entari has semi-period closures. Frog closures something like these were common, but Turkish frogs were long and flat, rather than swirly like mine. The gomlek's closure uses a pearl bead and braided thread, which is period in style, but my "pearl" is glass and I have no idea of the fiber content of the white thread I had onhand. The pants are elastic. I made them in a hurry and until recently have been wearing them with my armor.

Friday, July 15, 2011

The Devil's Cloth

A few years ago I struck a deal with a friend, that I would make her virtually an entire closet of garb in time for Estrella, asking only that whatever fabric she bought for her own garments, she doubled, and that I be allowed to keep the excess. From this deal I've gotten several very nice skirts, and I think most of a bolt of muslin which is long gone. I also got a huge, and I mean HUGE lot of wide-cut velvet corduroy, which has wide stripes of green and gold. I fell in love with the fabric, but couldn't decide what to make with it (other than a pair of salvar that don't fit and were given to a friend), so it's been sitting in storage for three or four years while I decide, and every now and then I look at it and go, "I can't wait to wear this!" but then I still don't know what to make of it, so it stays there.

My main hesitation is that it's really nice fabric, and I've been unable to find evidence of striping in any of the time periods I was looking at as options for the fabric's destination. After an unfruitful search today, I decided to search "history of striped cloth" to see if perhaps it was a technological, rather than fashion, shortcoming. As it turns out, my theory was wrong but I was on the right track.

I found an article discussing the fact that in the renaissance in the West, striped cloth was seen as immoral, and only immoral and untrustworthy people would wear it. Stripes are not found in the portraits of nobles because they were the territory of whores, tricksters, and traitors. By selecting my fabric I have committed myself to creating a gown which, to the historical eye, will mark me as duplicitous and untrustworthy.

This in mind, it looks like I'd be better off turning it into a very luxurious entari, since the East did not have the same prohibitions against stripes. Unfortunately, a Turkish lady of low enough station to be wearing stripes would not have velvet, so I'm still out of luck as far as period accuracy, but I have all this fabric, and damn it, I'm not letting details like history slow me down.