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Quick Links

My first experience with cosplay is complete and has a happy ending! Here’s a guide to jump to each step in the process.

The Initial To-Do List

The Dress

Part 1: The bodice

Part 2: The skirt and crinolines

Part 3: The collar and cravat

Part 4: The front apron

Part 5: The back bustle

The Hat (same post as the gloves)

The Gloves (same post as the hat)

The Boots

How to make a pattern for spats

How to make spats

The Parasol

Bonus: Victorian Purse

Reflections On My First Cosplay Experience

A Children’s Party (same post as the back bustle)

A Comic Convention

Thanks for reading; I hope you find something here that is helpful!

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Bonus: A Victorian Purse

When I decided I wanted to walk in the cosplay parade, I knew I’d need some way to carry around ID (in case I got hit by a bus) and money (because con time means shopping!).  I browsed Pinterest for some ideas on what purses would have looked like in Disney Jane’s time, and was really attracted to the “seed pod” style.  This is what I came up with:

The purse has four sides, so you’ll need four vaguely “v” shaped panels for your outside, and four for your lining.  Mine were 10″ tall.

You’ll also need some ribbon or decorative rope to gather the top of the purse closed, and you can use that as your purse strings or attach a separate purse string.

Sew each of your outer panels right-sides together, one to the other until all are joined.  Leave a small space in one seam, larger enough to fit the rope or ribbon you’re going to use to close the purse, and located about 2 1/2″ from the top.  Press the seam flat and topstitch around the hole for reinforcement.  Repeat with the lining, but don’t leave a space in any of the seams.

Fold down 1/4″ of the purse tops (outer and lining) and press.  Set the lining of the purse into the outer purse and pin the edges together.  Topstitch all around the top edge.

Create the casing for the ribbon or rope that will close the purse by stitching a straight line around the purse through the outer and lining.  The two lines should be as wide apart as the “hole” you left in the outer seam.

I decided to take an extra step and embellish it, in the spirit of the Victorian sensibility for decoration.  We have a nice new digital machine that does some fancy stitches, so I picked the tulips and stitched them along each of the four seams, creating those “ribs” in the purse.  Make sure you don’t stitch on the casing or you’ll close it up.  I also did the decorative stitch along the top edge. 

You could straight stitch, bead, embroider, or leave it as-is.  Whatever you want.  If you take a look at some purses, they have a tassel or other decoration hanging down from the place where the ribs join at the bottom.  This was a quickie just for me to have something to use for the day, so I didn’t bother with that.

I was using ribbon for my closure, so with a large safety pin attached to one end of the ribbon, I worked it into the hole in the seam and all the way through the casing until it came out the other side.  When tied in a bow, this closes the purse.  You could also use a toggle to close the purse so you don’t have to tie anything.  I finished off the edges of the ribbon by melting them, but you can stitch or leave them raw as you wish.For the purse string that would hang over the arm, I used more of the same ribbon, simply stitched to the inside of the purse along the same line as the top of the casing.  I used about 18″, but it may depend on how you want the purse to hang.

And there you have it, a simple seed purse to keep your con monies in.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

One Year Later...

When next year’s con came around, my desire to cosplay had waned.  But because of all the effort and money and tears I spent on my Jane costume, I resolved to make a go of it anyway, even if just to walk in the parade.  This complicated things.  I was tabling again, and on a panel the same night as the parade, where I wanted people to remember me and my work, not what I was wearing.  Did I drag my wheelie bag of tabling supplies with me in the parade and ruin the look?  What about a change of clothes?  The logistics were not easy to overcome and caused much anxiety for me and took a lot of planning ahead, storing supplies and a change of clothes at the booth the night before.  (This might sound simple, but in the midst of the stress of tabling, my pre-frontal cortex couldn’t take much more.)  When parade day came, I got up early to do my make-up and hair--still too short, but manageable if I curled it and used a gallon of hairspray--and put on the dress.  I could see the flaws more clearly than ever. 

But I had set this out for myself and darned if I wasn’t going to see it through.

Then I stepped outside.  It was bitterly cold.  The sky threatened rain.  With my anxiety this high in a situation so completely out of my comfort zone, and with high risk of getting a migraine and losing out on the rest of con, getting chilled would only amplify things and open the door to possibly catching con plague again.   And I did not want to let down my booth-mates or the panel organizers.  I retreated back indoors, took off the dress and put on some sweats, and watched the parade on TV.  When the con opened later, I got back into the dress and went down to the grounds.  

I never spend money on a parking pass.  It cuts into our slim table profits, so I get a ride, which means I have to walk for a while before I get to the arena.  Most people walking around that area are on their way to the con, too, so I heard lots of murmurs of “Jane” and “Tarzan” as I walked.  I didn’t want to acknowledge every one of them because I’m just not that comfortable inviting attention.  If they addressed me directly, I’d stop and talk to them.  Otherwise, I kept on walkin’.

One thing I had to do before I checked in at our table was find out if my parasol could be considered a weapon.  It took a while to find the prop check, and when you’re in a yellow poofy dress, you’re certain everyone is looking at you, knows you’re lost and confused, and is judging you.  Even more disorienting was that inside the building, people were constantly stopping me to take pictures.  I felt as embarrassed as I was pleased that people were excited to see Jane.

Eventually I got my parasol approved and bonded, and made it back to my booth.  I stayed at the booth for a bit to make sure everyone else got a break, then took a walk around the floor.  After a while, I grew somewhat used to the fact that I was being looked at, but I tried very hard not to make it look like it had gone to my head, mostly by consciously not turning around every time someone said, “Hey!”  Sometimes they really were trying to get their friend’s attention to point out a rare NES game they’d found.

I had no idea, before that day, how many cosplay blogs and sites are out there.  I guess there was a whole lot I didn’t look into about this world I’d decided to join for the day.  I was intimidated by all the Press badges, fancy cameras and flash filters.  Who me?  I’d never done this before, I didn’t practice any poses, and my dress was made from on-sale broadcloth!  I did look up a few of the sites, but when I could see all the flaws in my dress in their professional shots, I stopped looking.

I ended up being the only Jane there, which was surprising based on all the amazing Jane cosplay photos I’ve seen online, but from my observation 2017 was a great year for minor Disney princesses.  It wasn’t all Elsas and Belles and Rapunzels.  And this brings me to my only area of disappointment with the experience (unless you count my disappointment with my own making skills).  I was surprised by the attitude of the major Disney princesses. 

After my single day experience as Jane, I was ready to make the broad (and unfair) generalization that those princesses are a little bit stuck up.  Whenever I saw one, I smiled and waved and tried to catch their eye, like, “Hi! We are Disney family!”  Not once did they return the acknowledgment.  The first two times it happened, I figured that maybe they just didn’t see me.  But it continued to happen.  In contrast, the Kidas and Mulans and genderbent Russels... we all were excited to run into each other there, all the time.

I’m sure there are some friendly Ariels and Auroras out there.  It would be entirely out of character to turn up their nose at anyone.  But as a general callout to Disney princess cosplayers, as well as cosplayers in general: Cosplay thrives under a spirit of inclusiveness.  Don’t forget to acknowledge the other characters.  We’re doing this out of love for a story or a character so let’s have a little Disney loyalty, if not a little cosplay loyalty. 

Also very embracing was the Steampunk community.  I got invited for imaginary tea and took business cards and learned about where they meet and what events they hold.  And I wished I was a good enough maker to make something to fit in with that world.

My favorite was still the reaction from the children.  They didn’t always know who Jane was, but they knew I was something worth meeting.  You could tell by their faces that they thought they were meeting a real princess.  I just wish I’d had the confidence to play up the character a little more.  I basically just walked around, stopped when I was asked to, smiled at cameras, and fielded questions of: “Hey Jane, where’s Tarzan?”  If you’re planning to be Jane, I’d recommend preparing a few witty answers ahead of time.

I did use that change of clothes in the end, though I stayed in costume longer than I thought.  The broadcloth eventually did get hot and the crinolines started to sag, and my white tights began to slouch around the spats.  And I didn’t want to speak at the panel in costume and have it distract from what I was saying.  I probably looked a little too made up in my fake eyelashes and purple eye shadow, but oh well.

I was very happy with the experience over all.  The blood and sweat of making the thing was well worth it.  It is very hard to do both cosplay and work at a booth, unless that booth is a cosplay booth.  I would prefer in the future to cosplay when I’m not also tabling and scheduled elsewhere.  I do have some secret Pinterest boards for future cosplay ideas, but I feel fulfilled by this experience and I am content... for now.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Dress Pt 5

Part 1: Bodice  |  Part 2: Skirt  |  Part 3: Collar  |  Part 4: Apron

I had just finished the apron overskirt.  Back bustle/overskirt time.  Tomorrow was the last day of con.

Firstly, I needed help with the volume.  Here I found guidance in an invaluable tutorial on making a bustle pad:

I did exactly what she says in the video, using white scraps of broadcloth.  When I tied it around my waist, the ties lay under the apron.  However, as I began laying yellow broadcloth for the back overskirt over top of the bustle pad, I saw that it just didn’t meet my satisfaction.  The broadcloth was too thin, the pad too defined underneath. When I took off the dress, tied it over top of the crinolines, and put the dress on over top, this changed everything. The hem of the dress wasn’t even really affected by the extra bump behind.  For the correct silhouette of the cartoon, however, I had to tie the bustle pad loosely so it hung down a bit on my rump, creating a lower, more exaggerated bustle.

Now, Jane also has a brown belt, and I felt it would make things more simple to attach the back bustle part of the overskirt to that.  So I got busy making a brown belt, again out of broadcloth, with a 6″ tall rectangle (the circumference of your waist wide) folded in half lengthwise, and folded in half again, until it was 1 1/2″ wide with no raw edges showing and a nice amount of stiffness.  I left it open at the bottom to allow it to receive the back overskirt and fastened with to one side with a snap.

The back overskirt was a puzzle.  How was I going to get that shape right?  It would have to come down far enough on the sides to cover the raw edges of the front overskirt where the pleats were stitched in place and pinned to the skirt.  I started with another measure of broadcloth like the front swaths, as wide as it came on the bolt and as long as the skirt itself, and flatlined it with the netting,  stitching it all around the edges.  There was some waste with this one, for sure. 

I estimated that I would need to keep as much of that width as possible.  So I reasoned that the top part, the part that would be attached to the belt, would need to be gathered.  So I stitched two rows of baste stitch along the top width and then gathered it, pinning it to the belt and then putting *on* the belt so I could see how far around the fabric would have to reach to cover what it needed to.  It was still a rectangle of cloth, so here is also when I rounded off the corners.  It looked better already.

Before I could stitch it to the belt and close the belt over top, I had to add the light edge around the back overskirt.  Using the same colour fabric as I used for the sleeve cuffs, I made a long length of cream fabric, about 8” wide, pieced together until it was long enough to go around the circumference of that back skirt.  I pinned the two together first, then gradually trimmed it down at the top because, as you can see, that light piece is thinner close to the belt and thickens as it goes toward the back.  Then I folded the cream piece in half lengthwise, pressed it, and stitched it to that circumference.

When I was satisfied, I stitched it to the belt and topstitched the belt closed over top.  And then I realized I wasn’t entirely satisfied.

Although approximately the right shape, with the bustle pad helping it jut out well, I disliked how flat it lay.  This was another point where I was at a loss and ready to give up.  But after some thought that evening, I had two solutions.

One, the bustle pad needed a little help.  Although I don’t have a picture, it was late and I was frustrated, I can describe that the bustle pad bumped out the back of the skirt but then it hung off that bump straight down.  My solution to this was to take a trapezoid of scrap fabric starting at the width of the bustle pad and flaring down several inches, and gather the netting left over from flatlining the back bustle into a mini crinoline.  I pinned this to the underside of the bustle pad so it hung down and graduated that bump so it had a smoother shape instead of a sharp drop-off.

The second problem was that the overskirt needed more dimension.  The solution involved a seam ripper and the cream border around the hem.  I opened up a hole in the underside between two of the pieces, wide enough to get my hand through, and commended to stuff the border full of polyester fiberfill.  This puffed up that border and gave it volume, so the back overskirt sat with definition and shape over the bustle.  It made an extraordinary difference.  

I was ready to wear it.

I thought the sore throat and headache were to be blamed on the late hour and stress of finishing this up so late.  But the next morning, I woke up with con flu--body aches, chills, the whole nine yards.  There was no way I could be in character feeling like this.  Being that I was also tabling, I took some cold medicine and slept in for a few more hours, my boothmates kindly rallying to cover for me.  I arrived later to relieve my booth mates for the afternoon so they could take in the last day of con.  It was brutal, but when it’s con, you suck as much out of it as you can.

I’d scheduled an appointment to cut my hair after con.  I’d been putting it off, knowing I was going to be Jane this year and would need it long to tie up under the hat.  I felt pretty defeated, got my hair cut short like I’d been waiting to do for so long, and a few weeks later I put on the Jane dress again and went out in the garden just to take some pictures. 

It was difficult to get my hair to behave--it took a hair net, a million bobby pins, and hairspray galore.  But the pictures turned out pretty well, I was content.  Maybe by the time next year came around I’d be emotionally ready to wear the dress in public.

When I shared a few pictures on social media, a friend saw them and invited me to wear the dress to a costume party she was having for her children and their friends. I had to park down the street, there were so many cars, and I felt like everyone who drove by was staring as I unbundled all my yellow layers out of the car and walked to the house, clamping my hat down on my head as it was windy.  One parent didn’t recognize me and asked if I was a professional princess hired for the party.  And the kids... the kids were the best part.

Even if I could see all the flaws in my work, children just accept what they see in front of them.  A lady in a big poofy dress is a princess.  Even if among all the noise and bustle they clung to their mommy’s legs, too shy to join in the games, the timidity disappeared when they saw a princess.  They wanted to sit with the princess and talk to the princess and hold the princess’ parasol.  I wasn’t prepared for that.  A costume is a powerful thing.  For me, the wearer, it was an homage to a character who meant a lot to me in my youth, a challenge to my crafting skills, and a way to relive childhood fantasies.  But it transforms you in the eyes of a child into something special.

Also, I won a bottle of wine for being the best dressed adult at the party.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Dress Pt 4

See Part 1 for the bodice.

See Part 2 for the skirt.

See Part 3 for the collar and cravat.

Here I was.  Con had begun.  A couple of things I had decided to skip in the interest of necessity:

It was apron and bustle time.  I could no longer avoid it.

For this part, I highly recommend getting an extra person to help.  If you have a dress form or mannequin to wear the dress while you work on it, fantastic.  If not, you may need the extra body to wear it for you as you pin the pleats in place, or the extra pair of hands to pin as you wear it and direct the proceedings.

Let’s start with the apron, because as you can see in pictures of Jane, the apron goes first, and the back bustle overlaps it on the sides.

As all my projects up to now were quilts, purses, and the odd modern piece of clothing, I really had no idea how to approach this.  Thank goodness for the Internet.  Specifically this wonderful tutorial from HistoricalSewing.com  It shows you how to do a back bustle with those gorgeous tucks in it, but I was able to take those principles and apply it to the apron, too.

Link to the webpage with extra pictures.

One of the most useful things I learned was flatlining.  I had watched this video and read all the articles about bustle skirts on the site early enough in the process that when I went out to buy some netting for the crinoline, I bought enough to line the apron and bustle too.  I kept aside pieces of the netting and broadcloth as long as the hemmed skirt for the front and back, since I could only guess how much would actually be needed.  It turned out that wasn’t a bad guess.  There was a bit of waste, but not much.

I made a waistband for the apron first, with supporting tape hanging down at the sides.  These lines were what the pleats will be pinned to, creating the swaths across the front.  I used bias tape for this part, since our sewing room happens to have lots on hand and it was light yellow and quicker than sewing pieces up myself.  I was on a tight deadline here.  As in, con was already happening.  There were two days left.

After the waistband was fastened together with a snap around the waist of my dress, I measured the width of fabric needed to reach around the front half of the waistband and lie flat.  Because the skirt flares out like a bell, the apron would have to graduate wider than at the waist so it could reach around most of the way down without clamping down the skirt and crinolines underneath.  So this is what the apron looked like flat before I attached it to the waistband.  The top edges were turned under:

Then, laying the apron right-side down, I lay the netting over top, pinned it flat, and basted all around the edge of the apron, and trimmed.  This gave the apron a little more stiffness to hold the pleats, though personally, in hindsight, I did wish I was working with a stiffer fabric when it came to laying those swaths.  But can you imagine the weight of a dress like that?  All those layers of broadcloth were heavy enough!

I sewed the top edge to the waistband with a topstitch--this would be covered by Jane’s belt, I knew, so it didn’t have to look amazing.  When it was hanging around my waist again, it was all about playing around with it until it looked the way I wanted.  I started with the first pleat, pinning it at the sides onto the bias tape hanging down from the waistband. And I just worked my way down, adjusting, readjusting, until I got it right.  The extra pair of hands and eyes helped immensely here, since I was the one wearing the dress.  Standing in front of a mirror also helped.

When I got to the bottom it just didn’t look right.  I wanted it to turn under and look three-dimensional.  So, once the pleats were in place and stitched onto the bias tape, I added a line of baste stitch to the bottom of the apron and then gathered the fabric underneath until it hung in a nice swoop, and tied it off.

To keep each pleat as defined as possible, it did help at times to safety pin it to the skirt underneath to keep it from sagging further.  It also helped to pinch the bottom middle of each valley and put a few stitches there.  And overall, I was amazed how fast this went.  I had been dreading it for so long.

Now came the back bustle.  Tomorrow was the last day of con.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Dress Pt 3

See Part 1 for the bodice and Part 2 for the skirt.

I was really procrastinating at this point, trying not to attack the apron and bustle portion of the dress.  Even the collar and cravat seemed less daunting.

I had no pattern for the collar.  I couldn’t find anything high enough.  I was tempted to just buy a cheap white oxford shirt and cut it into a dickie to wear under the bodice, but I kept looking at the pictures of Jane and I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied unless I tried to get that  turtleneck height.  

I muddled through by finding a whole bunch of white scraps of fabric and just... going for it.  I would wrap a piece around my neck and pin it closed at the back, then mark where I wanted the points on my collarbone and where the seams would be on the sides so I could get that curve that follows the neck.  Then I’d cut it up, trace it onto new pieces of fabric and cut it out with a seam allowance added.  I would sew the pieces together, try it on, decide where it needed adjustments, and repeat the whole process over and over again.

I have since re-purposed or disposed of those scraps, but the pieces started out looking approximately like this:

I can assure you there were five or more repetitions.  Around the third repetition I began to double every piece for a lining, so I could begin to get my head around how that would work.  I did this all over the space of a few days because I found it very frustrating and exhausting.  Eventually, the pieces evolved into looking more like this (again, an approximation):

I realized that it would look more successful and sit with less bunching around my neck if there was a top portion that folded over like an oxford collar would.  It also would allow me to tie the cravat around my neck like a man’s tie and have everything that wasn’t meant to be seen hidden under the folded over part of the collar.

It still wasn’t at all perfect in my mind, but I was more pleased with it than I would have been with a store-bought dickie.  So I pinned it closed in the back and got my mom to mark the overlap so I knew where to sew on the snaps.

Good enough for now.  I turned my attention to the cravat.  That part, at least, would be easy. 

My first idea was to basically sew a tie, with one end much more broad than the other.  I spent ages trying to tie it around my neck under the collar so that it looked right, but in the end had to admit defeat.  

Part of the problem was that the doubled up broadcloth was too thick, and broadcloth isn’t known for its ability to hang at the best of times.  I cut the tie apart and used one side of it, simply turning the raw edges under, stitching around the edges.  I at least wanted the knot in the tie, which you can see on Jane in the movie, so I tied it like a tie and then took it off and  trimmed it to the length I wanted--which was much shorter than I thought it would be.  But as I held up the knot and looked at the screen shots, I realized it hit much higher on the bodice.  After I trimmed the tie, I turned the raw edges under again and stitched them. 

With time barreling down to the wire, I safety-pinned it to the bodice for now.  And have never changed it.

The biggest, most challenging part of the dress was still to come.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Hat and The Gloves

Days before the con, I took an afternoon and drove down to a costume shop, still in need of opaque white tights, a hat, and gloves.  I’d been trying to get to one over the past month or so, but something would always happen (for instance, we’d get to a shop and it had moved).   The place I ended up going was hardly convenient, with only paid parking and a terrifying lane-reversal system to and from so that I had a exhilarating experience of watching a vehicle come head-on at me and praying someone would let me into the next lane over before I collided with oncoming traffic.  

All part of the adventure.  And I definitely wasn’t the only person in there getting last-minute items for their cosplay.   It was kind of nice; a bit of a sense of community even before con had started.  It boosted my morale.

The hat was easy.  After searching online for days, earlier in the year, I came to the conclusion that I did not want to spend over $50 on a proper-looking pith helmet, before shipping.  A $10 straw one would do well enough. 

Upon getting it home, it was just a matter of applying the purple band. I wanted it to exactly match the color the cravat would be, so using mauve broadcloth we had already, I cut off the longest length I could out of it.  I cut it twice as wide as I wanted it with an extra inch added for a 1/2″ seam allowance.  So, because I wanted a 1″ wide ribbon, the fabric was 3″ wide.   Then I folded it in half lengthwise and stitched the raw edges together with a gap in the middle to turn it right-side-out.  Basically, I made a strap or casing.

Turns out, it’s not as easy as it looks to make a broad ribbon wrap around something curved like a hat and have it lie completely flat against the surface.  Twisting it actually helped.   If you look at her on screen, Jane’s ribbon looks to be wrapped and twisted around the hat several times before being knotted in the back and the ends trailing down.  Armed with a hot glue-gun, I wrapped and pinned and twisted and cursed and glued and removed pins and wrapped some more.  I ended up with a length of ribbon hanging down the back that was much too long, so I cut it, turned the raw edges in, and stitched the end closed again. 

Not the prettiest solution, but I was more interested in getting it all done.

Surprisingly, gloves turned out to be the most difficult thing to buy out of the whole costume.

Again, a proper-looking pair with seams on the back of the hand and buttons at the wrist were just too much to buy online.  I had some shiny satin-like ones at home, but they were too dressy for Jane in the jungle.  In the end, I reconciled myself to be happy finding some plain white cotton gloves, ala Santa or a mime.  Even this was not so easy, and I’m glad I spoke to one of the staff at the costume shop because she saw the Santa gloves I’d picked up and told me they only came in men’s one-size and were much too big for most women.  She recommended the long gloves in a similar material.  I was pressed for time and options, so I figured I would cut them to wrist length at home.

What an awful material to work with!  It started fraying almost instantly, and when I turned the raw edge under, the stretch-stitch on the machine made it look so much worse.  Thank goodness I tested it on the discarded arm part first.  A simple straight stitch worked better.

When I tried the glove on, it was still too spacious.  Jane’s hands are so tiny and delicate; this wouldn’t do.  Jane’s gloves do have the three seams on the back of the hand, which would take up some fabric, so with the glove on, I traced the tendons from knuckles to wrist with a fabric pen that disappears with the iron’s heat.  (Love that thing.)  Then I folded along one line on the back of the glove, on the right side, and pinned it.  I stitched as close to the edge as the machine could.  Then I repeated with the other two lines, and on the other glove.  It helped, but still didn’t fit tight enough.

Turning the glove inside-out, I stitched just inside the factory stitching  at either side of the hand and around the thumb, and at the ends of the fingers that needed it.  Then I turned it out and tried it on again.  It took one or two more rounds of that before they fit well enough to look dainty and elegant and not like I was a ten-year-old in hand bell practice.

Had I the time or patience at that point, I might have undone the outer side seam to allow for a functional button at the wrist.  But I didn’t. 

But things were really coming along now!  The most important accessories were done:

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Dress Pt 2

See Part 1 for the bodice.

The skirt was fairly straightforward, just loooong straight lines (in the midst of which I ran out of thread and had to buy more) and a zipper.  It’s always a good idea not to hem a skirt without the intended underthings being worn with it, because with Jane’s dress you want the skirt to hit about the top of the spats.  

So the next task was to figure out the volume of the dress.

On the left is the dress as-was.  Blah, hey?  We have a few crinolines of varying lengths in our house because we all love retro dresses, so I had a light pink tea-length one that would be about the right length.  As you can see in the middle, it helped, but it still wasn’t quite Jane-level voluminous.  I felt it was most lacking right around the hips, so I whipped up a mini crinoline with a base out of broadcloth so I could attach a bunch of gathered netting around my hips over top of the pink crinoline.  As you can see on the right, it worked a treat.

For the mini crinoline, it didn’t have to be pretty, so I measured around my hips and waist and cut out a front and back of the top of a skirt out of broadcloth.  I sewed these together, with an opening in the top of one side seam so it could be pulled up over my hips and I safety-pinned it together for the time being.  I had to go back into the seams a couple of times until it roughly fit right and sat over the top of the pink crinoline.

I had purchased some three metres or so of pale yellow netting for flatlining the overskirts (which I’ll explain when we get there), and I had enough left over to use.  I cut as many 8″ wide lengths as I could, and stitched the 8″ sides together until I had several lengths at least 2 metres long.  I folded them half lengthwise so each length was a double-layer of 4″ wide lengths of tulle, and applied this amazing trick for gathering fabric where you zigzag over a length of thread instead of basting two lines which always always seem to break!

Doesn’t make sense?  Here’s a video:

I swear by this method now.  Life-changing.

It was the work of mere minutes to get all this netting gathered, and a bit longer to pin it evenly in rows around the tiny broadcloth skirt.  After I zigzag-stitched a row on, I would try it on under the skirt and decide whether or not to add another, starting near the bottom edge of that mini skirt and working my way up.  After three rows, I was satisfied with the volume.

Now I could hem.  I had my mom help with this part so I could be sure it hit the top of the spats.  And because I’m picky, I sewed the hem by hand with a slip stitch. 

The original plan had been for a white petticoat to peek out at the hem, but to save time and money (as well as keep the weight of the skirt down), I bought about five metres of white scalloped eyelet edging, three metres of which I hand-stitched inside the hem of the skirt to appear like it was peeking out (the rest would go on the parasol, and the bloomers if I had time... which I didn’t).

It was finally starting to look like Jane’s dress, but for some reason I couldn’t pinpoint, I was beginning to feel defeated. I suppose I felt I was never going to be able to pull this off.  But I kept working.  There was still a lot to do!

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

I promise, I *did* finish my costume!  And I finished it with one day left in the con.  Unfortunately, I woke up the next day with con flu and never wore it, but there’s always next year. 

I’ll post the rest of the process soon.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Parasol

So here we are, five days away from the day I plan to wear my costume, and the parts I dread the most (the parts for which I have no pattern or tutorial) are still unfinished.  This is very true to form for me.  Despite the best intentions, things always get in the way of pro-activity.  Some were legitimate, some... not so much.

I bought a beautiful parasol frame online, but I won’t share the place I bought it from as I had a few problems.  The instructions were not logical and the pattern was wrong, wasting about a meter of fabric and forcing me to go out to buy more.  I don’t even want to count the time it took to figure it out on my own.  One of the endcaps was the wrong size, too, and broke when I tried to install it.  Thank goodness I needed carpenter’s glue to complete the parasol; I was able to glue the endcap back together onto the spoke.  A disappointing experience, but the end result is not so bad:

I was thinking of making my own set of instructions and sending them to the company, because it was just so frustrating!

It was one of the more challenging things I was dreading having to do for Jane’s costume, so I’m delighted to have it done.  The others are the swathed apron and back bustle, and the white collar.  So I have my work cut out for me this week:

I’ve ditched the sketchbook and bloomers (no one’s going to see those anyway).  I couldn’t find wrist-length gloves that were not satin or men’s size, so I bought some elbow-length ones that I will cut down and hem to the right length.  The hat has a purple band that I just haven’t attached yet, and the collar has some work completed as well.  I may get this done yet.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Dress Pt 1

I bought a bolt of fabric at the store; broadcloth, the cheapest I could get.  There were about 14 metres left on it, and I estimated about 15 including extra for the parasol and overskirt, so I just purchased the whole thing.  The long-suffering lady had rolled out the entire thing and measured it, after all...

As mentioned in another post, I’m using the pattern McCalls 4948, which will give me a good base to work with, and then I will figure out the overskirts later.  I have fallen very behind because of illness and other life things, but the bodice is done:

The lower half of the sleeves were modified with a lighter-colored lining to accentuate the fact that Jane’s sleeves are rolled up for her trudging through the jungle.  I also lined the top of the leg-o’-mutton sleeves to give it more stiffness and bulk, and if necessary, I can open a seam and stuff something inside for extra volume.  Another option would be to make little sleeve garters to ensure maximum poofiness.  She is a cartoon after all.

Hopefully the skirt base will soon follow...

It’s heavy already!

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Boots Pt 2: Making the Spats

Part 2: Making the Spats

After making and testing my custom-made spats pattern (see Part 1 or go to Festive Attyre’s amazing tutorial) I went to one of our local fabric stores for supplies for the Real Thing.  I found some great upholstery fabric that was stiff and sturdy, had a great canvas-y texture that would be reminiscent of what Jane might have worn, and it was a prefect brown-grey... and was 60% off.

For the lining, I already had a bunch of scraps of broadcloth that needed using, and I chose black so as to be less noticeable against the black boots.  I also took into consideration that a shiny fabric, while it would look really nice, might cause the spats to slide down the leg a little.  A cotton or broadcloth would probably be perfect.

For the closure, as you can see Jane has buttons.  Knowing the limits of my own patience (and my budget, in case I screwed up and had to buy more fabric), I decided not to mess around with tons of button holes.  Snaps would have been great, especially if I could have found the kind with the pearlescent tops, but they were nowhere to be found.  So I’m going to fake it; fasten the spats with Velcro dots and have shank buttons on the outside as decoration.

SUPPLIES:

Outer fabric - 0.5 m of 150 cm wide fabric* Lining fabric - same amount as the outer fabric (optional) Buttons - 14 x 13 mm shank/“half-ball” buttons for decoration ** Velcro dots - 14  (or fastenings of your choice) 19 mm wide elastic - 23 cm Your custom made and tested spats pattern *** Your sewing standards: thread, scissors, tape measure or ruler, sewing machine

* Depending on how tall your spats are, of course.  Mine are mid-calf height, and my feet are ladies size 9, so cutting all the pieces parallel with the selvage I was able to fit them all.  If you have a different size foot or a taller spat, or fabric with a more narrow width, you may need more.  Hopefully when making a prototype out of your custom-made pattern, you were able to see how much you would need.

**  This will also depend on how tall your spats are.  I lay a few different sizes of buttons on the flattened spat to see what I liked, and how far apart they should be spaced.  I came up with 7 x 13mm buttons on each spat.  I realize Jane’s boots have three huge buttons each, but this is a place I chose to deviate.  I mean, my boots are black anyway, and hers are brown.  I think we can fudge this one.

*** I made mine using the tutorial at www.festiveattyre.com/2012/02/diy-spats-pattern.html

STEP 1:  Cut out your outer fabric.

If you drafted the pattern onto printer paper, like I did, it will probably be easier to trace the pattern and then cut, rather than pin the pattern to the fabric and cut.  Mark the place where the elastic stirrup will go (you would have worked this out when making the spats pattern and hopefully have it marked on the pattern itself). Ensure you are tracing on the wrong side of your fabric to prevent any unwanted markings from showing up on the right side.

You can fold the fabric right sides together and cut the left and right pieces at the same time, but if your fabric is very stiff and slippery like mine, you may prefer to cut the pattern pieces for one shoe first, then flip the pattern pieces face-down and cut again for the other shoe.  

If your fabric doesn’t have a right or wrong side, lucky you!  Just cut out two of each pattern piece for a total of six pieces, three the left and three for the right.

TIPS:    Iron your fabric first.  It’s much easier to cut.

   Watch the grain: Try to cut with all the pattern pieces lying vertically on the fabric, or horizontally.  Don’t mix and match directions.

   Watch the nap:  If your fabric has a pattern or texture that would look different upside-down than right-side up, make sure you are paying attention that the pattern is facing the way you want on all the pieces before you cut.

STEP 2:  Cut out your lining fabric.

Repeat STEP 1 with the fabric you have chosen to line your spats (if you’re going to line them.  You don’t have to; I will also explain how to finish them off without lining them.)

STEP 3:  Sew center front and back seams.

Pin the right front outstep piece (A) to the right instep piece (C) at the very front edge, right sides together.  You may have to clip along the curves to get the edges to align.  Be careful that you don’t clip deeper than your seam allowance. NOTE: The pieces will not lie flat. The important thing is to pin the edges together.

Stitch, using the seam allowance you added to the pattern.  I used a standard 5/8” seam.

Repeat with the right back outstep piece (B) to right instep piece (C).

Clip the seams along the curves.  Press seams flat.  This will be a little finicky, but be patient.  You will begin to see the shape of the foot emerging.

Repeat with the left foot pieces.

STEP 4:  Repeat STEP 3 with the lining fabric.

Don’t forget to press those seams flat!

STEP 5:  Attach Velcro dots to lining.

Because I am using a smaller button as decoration on the overlapping edge, it would be possible to see the stitching if I were to add the velcro dots at a later stage.  So I am sewing them to the lining now, and then the stitching will not show through.  If you are gluing the Velcro dots on, or pressing in snaps, or making button holes, you can skip this step.  But if you are sewing on Velcro or snaps, you need to do this now.

First I took the overlapping edge of the lining (piece A; I am showing it on the left foot’s lining) and on the right side marked one inch from the sides in the top and bottom corner so the dots would not get in the way of the seam allowance, then evenly spaced the markings all the way up the side.  (As an extra step, because my lining is broadcloth, I used iron-on interfacing for more support under each marking.)  

Then I set one side of the Velcro dots (they had sticky backs so they would stay, I got them at the dollar store), and stitched an “X” over each one.  The sticky backs can gum up your sewing needle, but you can use a bit of oil to clean off the residue.

We’ll attach the other side of the dots later.  You could do it now, on the outer fabric side, but I wanted to install them later while trying on the almost-finished spat around my foot, to make sure I get the best fit possible.

STEP 6:  Sew the lining to the outer fabric.

Now you should have an outer spat for each foot and a lining for each foot.  Lie your right spat made of the outer fabric right-side-up on your work surface. Lie the lining right-side-down on top of it and pin the edges.  I found it helpful to pin the seams together at intervals, because the pieces do not lie flat.  After I knew the seams matched, it was easier to focus on the middle section--just flattening that part down and pinning the edges, then flattening each side in turn and pinning that side.  Don’t worry if the edges don’t exactly match.  I can be a sloppy cutter, but once you stitch it and turn it right side out, you won’t see those edges ever again.

Cut your elastic for the stirrups into two pieces, one for each foot.  When I measured using my test spat, I decided I needed 4.5” for each foot, including about 0.75” for the seam.  It may depend on the shoe you are using.  Pin the elastic to the bottom edge of the outer underlapping side (the piece without the toe, piece B) between the lining and the outer fabric at the place you marked when you cut out the fabric.  Pin it so that  0.75” is sticking out, and the rest of the stirrup lies pointing up toward the top of the spat.

Once all your edges are pinned and the elastic is pinned to the outer underlapping piece (B) only, it’s time to stitch.  Because my edges were uneven, I chose to use the outer fabric as a guide for the seams.  Stitch back and forth over the elastic a few times to reinforce.  

Leave two gaps: 

One a little wider than the width of the elastic along the bottom edge of the instep piece (C) where you marked earlier when cutting--the piece that does not have the elastic stirrup pinned to it yet.

And one a little smaller than the width of your hand on the side edge of the outer underlapping piece (B). 

If you choose not to line them:

With the wrong side facing up on your work space, turn in the raw edges and pin them, using a ruler or tape measure to keep it consistent with your seam allowance.  You may need to clip along the curves to get the fabric to lie flat.  Press.  

Cut your elastic for the stirrups into two pieces, one for each foot. When I measured using my test spat, I decided I needed 4.5” for each foot, including about 0.75” for the seam.  It may depend on the shoe you are using.  

Pin the elastic to the bottom edge of the outer underlapping side (the piece without the toe, piece B) at the place you marked when you cut out the fabric.  Make sure it is pinned to the wrong side.  Pin it so that the majority of the elastic is hanging out.

Stitch close to the pressed edge.  

Take the free edge of the elastic and  pin it to the instep where you marked it, measuring to make sure the stirrup is the length it needs to be. Stitch again on top of the previous stitch line, or as close to it as possible.

You can now skip Steps 7 and 8 and go on to Step 9.

STEP 7:  Turn the spat right-side out.

Clip the corners.  If your seams are bulky like mine, you might also want to trim them.

Find the two gaps you left when you were stitching, fold the seam allowances back toward the middle of spat and press.  This will made it easier to stitch them closed later.

Turn the spat right-side out through the larger gap, using the eraser end of a pencil or something else slightly pointy to get those corners nice and sharp.

Press. Now it should be starting to really look like a spat.

STEP 8:  Close the gaps.

Take the free edge of the elastic stirrup and insert it into the hole.  I needed to make sure I had a stirrup 2.75” long.  This may vary depending on the shoe you use.  

Pin the elastic in place.  When you go to stitch, you may find the elastic pulls from the other side, so make sure it is at a right angle to the edge of the spat when you sew.

Using a thread that matches the outer fabric (you can even thread your machine so that the top thread matches the outer fabric and the bottom thread matches the lining), topstitch the gap closed with the elastic inside, as close as you can get to the edge.

Topstitch the gap that is about the size of your hand closed.

(Note:  I had to stitch-rip and reattach the elastic on both sides because I put the markings in the wrong spot when making the pattern.  I won’t show you that mess.  Just pay attention to what you’re doing and don’t rush!)

STEP 9:  Finishing.

At this point, I tried the spat on with the shoe and pinned it closed, making sure it looked the way I wanted.

When I was satisfied, I carefully started to unpin the edge from the bottom up, putting the corresponding side to each sticky Velcro dot on the underlapping piece of the spat.  If you don’t have lazy sticky dots like me, you will instead be marking the spot where you want the snaps or buttons to be attached.

After all the Velcro dots were attached, I stitched an X through each one of them.

Now the spats are almost finished!  Time to sew on the decorative buttons I have chosen.  Rather than using the velcro dots as a guide, which were spaced a little sloppily, I used the tape measure to calculate how much space should be between each button and mark it on the overlapping edge.  Then, I hand-stitched each button...

...and immediately tried on the finished spats to admire them!

Meanwhile, my parasol frame came in the mail, so I have to really get on it and buy some fabric for that and the dress!

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

The Boots Pt 1: Making a Pattern for Spats

Part 1: Making a Pattern for Spats

I’ve always loved spats as an historical costume detail.  Then I saw a modern girl wearing them in a movie (can’t remember the movie) and was finally able to believe that spats could still be a socially acceptable thing.

I already had the perfect boots.  I was traveling in B.C. and popped into a Value Village for books, and there I saw a pair of worn black lace-up ankle looks with fantastic spool heels.  They were a size too big, but the price was an absolute steal and I knew I’d regret leaving them there.  I wore them once with very thick socks before the laces gave out, and I had a heck of a time finding new ones.  After years of the boots collecting dust, I come upon a brilliant notion: instead of drug stores and grocery stores, try an actual shoe repair place.  

I’ve been terrified to try making spats.  It looked super complicated.  I was amazed at how easy it was if you have a basic understanding of sewing.

I used a very excellent tutorial by Festive Attyre for making your own spats pattern:  www.festiveattyre.com/2012/02/diy-spats-pattern.html

I won’t repeat the details here; I would recommend reading their full tutorial for tons of helpful hints on getting your spats pattern just right.

The basics are this: put on your boot or shoe (note, I was wearing leggings.  I don’t recommend wearing anything on your legs that you don’t want accidentally cut when you snip off the resulting pattern base with scissors).  

Pull a leg from an old pair of stockings over the shoe and up your leg.

Cover the stocking with duct tape.  I ran out of duct tape halfway through and had to use electrical tape.  It’s a narrower width which incidentally helped avoid wrinkles in the surface.

Draw a centre front and back seam onto the tape, then using scissors cut down the centre front line.  This is why I recommend not wearing leggings while you make the pattern.  Also, careful as I was being, I managed to snip right through the laces of the boot.  Now I need to go shopping for laces again.  -__-;

Draw the shape of the spats onto the tape, including the edges of the shoe and where you want the opening to be.  Then cut at the opening and the centre back line.

Trace the three resulting pieces onto paper.  This was the most frustrating part for me, as the taped pieces don’t like perfectly flat.  But I did my best, there’s opportunity for adjustment later.  Add a seam allowance to the centre front and back seams, as well as an extra few centimetres so that the button opening has some underlap.  

Cut out the pieces of paper and lay them on some sturdy test fabric like denim.  My test fabric happened to be a thick magenta linen blend. 

I cut out the pieces and stitched up the centre front and back seams.  I had to clip the curves when pinning the pieces together.  After sewing, I pressed the seams flat, then pinned the opening together around my leg and foot.  

You can see the result on the bottom left image.  I didn’t bother finishing the edges, as I hadn’t added seam allowance to anywhere but the front and back seams.  I wanted to see how well the pattern worked, first.  I was pleased, but had a few adjustments to make.  The top of the spat was crooked, as was the rounded shape on the top of the toe, and the opening on the side didn’t look the way I wanted.  The back seam also didn’t sit in the centre back of my leg (my fault as I drew the line on the tape myself, awkwardly).

So I retraced the paper pattern on more paper, with my changes.  I also added a seam allowance to all the other edges at this time, since I was now going to try it with a lining.  I cut out new pieces from the test fabric, and identical pieces from some white broadcloth for a test lining.  I sewed the centre front and back seams of the outer fabric first, as before, then flipped the lining pieces over so I was sewing a reverse shape of the spat, and stitched those centre front and back seams.

I pressed all the seams flat, then I lay the two pieces right sides together and pinned the other edges.  I stitched all around the outer edges of the spats, leaving a gap about the width of my hand on the side that underlaps the button opening.  I trimmed the corners, and turned the spat right side out and pressed it.  Then I stitched the opening closed.

You can see the result of that one on the bottom right.  Amazingly, I didn’t see the need for any further adjustments to the pattern.  It was already working better than I had ever imagined it could.  

It would all make more sense if I had taken pictures of each step, but Festive Attyre already has such a great tutorial up, I really didn’t think you’d need mine, too.

If anyone is interested, though, I can post step-by-step photos as I make the actual spats.  I’m still looking for the perfect material--something greyish or off-white and a little more stiff, like upholstery fabric as Festive Attyre suggests.

[metarzanyouchelsea-blog]

Becoming Jane Porter

One of my favorite parts of exhibiting at a comic con is having a front-row seat to all the costumes.  But I’ve never tried it, myself.  My childhood love for dress-up has never really gone away, and after over a decade of viewing cosplayers with both admiration and envy, I’m determined to try it at least once.  For my first attempt, I’ve decided it’s important for me both to resemble my character and to have sentimental connections to her.  There are few characters who fill both those requirements with the added bonus of having an historical costume, so I easily settled on Jane Porter.

Disney’s Tarzan originally came at a perfect time in my adolescence for me to accept it fully without any irony or criticism.  To me Jane was, on the surface, awkward, clumsy, and out of her element, and what young teenager couldn’t relate to that?  Though delightfully naive in her new surroundings, she was willing to learn.  She embraced each discovery with enthusiasm, and as her trappings of civilization fell away, it enabled her to be confident and capable in a place that was fulfilling for her.

I preferred to think the only reasons people told me I reminded them of Jane is because of the brown hair and blue eyes and the drawing.  Perhaps those close to me may have even remembered how into Mountain Gorillas I was in elementary school.  (Koko and her kittens were popular back then.)  For a junior high drama presentation, I even did Jane’s “Daddy, he took my boot” rant. 

But it was probably also the falling and the flailing around that made people associate me with her.

Now, I firmly believe that making your own costume is a huge part of the cosplay experience.  I’m only a intermediate sewer, and a cruel perfectionist, so it will be a big challenge to get a satisfactory costume done for con time--and our con comes early in the season.  But we’re going to give it a go.

Since it’s a process I would find interesting to follow, I’m going to document the process so you can be entertained by my attempt.  Perhaps someone might even find some part of it helpful.

To-Do List for Becoming Jane:

The Dress: [X] Find a dress pattern I settled on McCalls 4948, which has all the basic structural elements I need--a plain bodice, a high neckline under which a white dickie could sit, puffed sleeves, and a simple skirt over which an overskirt would fit. [  ] Buy fabric Saw the perfect fabric, a lovely light mustard linen blend, in the bargain area, but there wasn’t enough, so I’m still on the hunt. [  ] Sew basic dress [  ] Figure out front swaths of overskirt [  ] Figure out back bustle of overskirt [  ] Make/buy dickie? [  ] Sew purple cravat [  ] Will I need a petticoat/crinoline for volume?

The Accessories: [  ] Safari hat/pith helmet [  ] Sew purple hat band [  ] White seamed gloves [  ] White tights [  ] Parasol frame [  ] Make parasol [X] Boots I’ve had spool-heel ankle boots for years, just in case. [X] Make pattern for spats Coming up next. [  ] Buy spats materials (outer, lining, buttons) [  ] Sew spats

Details that Would be Nice if I Have Time: [  ] Bloomers?  (No vine swinging so who’s gonna see those?) [  ] Should I have a little matching bag for carrying around stuff the con? [  ] Sketchbook?

And let’s hope I don’t chicken out after all this work.