I Spent 400+ Hours Making a Dark Academia Victorian Walking Suit & Wore It to a Castle

Two weeks ago, I released a video where I revealed the secret project I've been working on for two or three months, which occupied probably around 300 or more hours of my time. It's a replica 1890 to 91 Victorian walking suit bodice from Patterns of Fashion 2, but instead of choosing the original color palette, I decided to deviate and go for a more vibrant, dark academia-inspired shade, opting for this terracotta, which, by the way, is such an underrated color. The best part about terracotta is every time you prick yourself with a sewing needle, the blood doesn't show on the fabric, which in my case happened a lot throughout this process. The inside lining I made from some black linen in my stash, and I won't go into deep detail here about why I decided to recreate this walking suit. I do highly recommend you go watch part one if you have not seen it already, as then everything I'm showing in this video will make a lot more sense. The main thing to know is that as I was drafting the pattern, I realized that it was exactly my size. That means the woman in 1890 or 91 who owned this walking suit was my same figure, including the absurdly short waist length that I have. Upon constructing the skirt of the walking suit, which is what this video covers, I discovered that she happened to be the same exact height as me too. Some of you were wondering in the last video whether the skirt would be the same size as me, and I'm happy to inform you it is. How eerie is that? Though due to personal preference, I shortened the hemline by two inches. The original walking suit is floor length, so it just touches the floor, and the original size would on me as well, but considering that I wear historical clothing every day and this is a garment I will actually wear a lot, I wanted something more practical, so ankle bone length it was. Due to the nature of getting this video out in time for you all to see, I had to throw this skirt together in about 10 days, which, suffice to say, was a lot of work. And when I completed the skirt more or less a few days ago, I felt exhausted. I actually feel as if I don't want to pick up a sewing needle for another week or so. In all, the skirt took me around 100 hours to sew, which I would say is far better than the 300 plus hours for the bodice, and much like the bodice, the skirt is also 100% hand sewn. The pieces required for this skirt were fewer than for the bodice, of which there were many. In this case, I needed to draft and cut out one outer skirt front piece cut on the fold and two outer skirt side slash back panels, both being cut from the terracotta cotton twill, and I also had to cut out one underskirt front piece cut on the fold, two underskirt side pieces, and one underskirt back piece also cut on the fold. All of the underskirt pieces were cut from another black linen that I had in my stash. Then I also had to make eight square facings for the tabs, and finally the giant ruffle, which was a project within itself just to hem. Both the outer and underskirts have extensive cartridge pleating. For those of you who aren't familiar with cartridge pleats, they are the best way to condense the most fabric into a small space. They are quite literally what gives the Because of how big the pattern pieces are, it was a constant wrestling match with massive pieces of drafting paper, like this one on the floor. The most characteristic features about this pattern are the waist darts, of which there were many, and the tabs at the bottom, which mimic the tabs that are featured on the matching bodice. You will all remember how much, um, let's say fun, I had with darts in the last video. I felt like I wanted to swear off darts forever, but alas, this skirt was not so forgiving. I had to make many more darts, including three for the front panel. You might be confused why I said three when there are five on this drawing if the fabric were to be cut on the fold. It turns out the outer skirt pattern seems to have a mistake, which I discovered when trying on my first mock-up. Because this pattern is my exact measurements, I knew the thing was supposed to fit me right the first mock-up, and when it didn't, I was perplexed. I counted all the squares for the pattern to determine sizing, and the waistband and underskirt were around 26 inches, which was correct. The actual waist size is 25 inches, but these measurements needed to accommodate for the bulk of the cartridge pleats. Because of this, that meant the outer skirt should have a waist of 26 inches as well, but it didn't. Its waist measurement was around 6 inches bigger, far too big of a discrepancy to be something practical. I have to thank my friend Cass McCann of Reconstructing History at this point. She's a highly experienced fashion historian, so I really trust her judgment and her ability to help with these types of questions, which she so graciously answered whenever I was stuck. She helped me a lot throughout this construction process, and I'm just very grateful for her. I highly recommend checking out her historical patterns, of which I have provided a link below. She'll be releasing made-to-measure historical patterns soon, actually. Yes, you heard that right, made-to-measure. How cool is that? So then your experience with patterns can be the same as how this one fits me like a glove, as is. When trying on the mock-up, I noticed if I pinned the entirety of the first dart section out, then the skirt fit. So essentially, it seems Janet Arnold perhaps added on an additional panel that didn't need to be there. The way I mitigated this was by just cutting off the first dart section, and instead cutting the piece on the fold at the location where the second dart begins. Extending the line a bit, however, and mimicking the exact shape of the original section so as to not create any issues. This worked like a charm, and my new and improved pattern was ready to go. I have contacted the current publishers, by the way, the School of Historical Dress, and have informed them of the suspected mistake. So perhaps it will be mitigated in future editions. At this point, I also went ahead and shortened the pattern pieces by two inches by just folding over the pattern, lining everything up evenly, and truing the seam lines. Be sure not to forget to true. I made another mock-up, this time a full-length one at the front, because I wanted to see if I was happy with the new length. And I was super satisfied with this new version, so I went ahead and began to cut from my cotton twill fabric. The stakes were high with this one. Although I ordered nearly 10 meters of fabric, by the end of the project I only had a few scraps left, meaning if anything had gotten messed up, I would have been out of luck. Most of all, this fabric is dead stock, so I'm not even completely sure it can be bought again. That would have truly sucked. This is why it is so important to make a mock-up, especially if you are unfamiliar with a pattern. In my case, it all worked out okay, thankfully, and I proceeded to chalk mark all of the pieces, pin the two halves together, cut everything out, leaving around one inch of seam allowance and utilizing the self-edges whenever possible, and finally thread tracing everything as to not lose my stitching lines. The very first thing I did after my pieces were cut out is make the cartridge pleats for the outer skirt. I just wanted these done right away. I marked two dots vertically, one inch apart, at every one half inch, and then I ran two rows of long gathering threads evenly spaced. Then I pulled on the gathering threads, collecting together the pleats at the width I desired. In this case, it needed to be two inches for each panel, so four inches total. I then made a secured knot once I was happy with the size. The next thing I did was sew together the center back seam, connecting the two cartridge pleated panels, and then I proceeded to make the darts for the center piece that was cut on a fold. Luckily, this time it was just the three for the outer skirt. Next, I decided to work on the placket, which exists on the side back panel of the outer skirt on the left side. It is essentially a triangle that I cut out and then stay stitched. Then I cut diagonally into the corners all the way to the stay stitch line and hemmed all the edges under. Hemming angles like this is always an awkward experience in my opinion. I went ahead and attached a hook and bar as well to help keep the placket shut. The two side seams for the outer skirt were also sewn up, thus completing all the seams for this section of the garment. I could try the skirt on finally by holding it shut, and I fell in love so much with the silhouette already. Arnold states that the volume in the back of the skirt is what is left of the bustle era. Since this walking suit is dated at 1890 or 91, it makes sense that some of the bustle could still be left, even if in this manner. I actually have a theory that this suit is perhaps a remade old bustle, in particular with the short tabs at the bodice. There are quite a few elements of this garment that feel 1880s to me. The reality is though, we will never know. The tabs were next. Well, technically I worked on them much later, but for the purpose of this video it made sense to include them here. Therefore, don't be perplexed by the black underskirt peeking through, you'll see that later. I made a last minute decision to add some embroidery to the very bottom of the tabs. I ordered some gold sateen fringe online over a month ago, which I was originally planning to add all over the skirt and bodice, but it still has not arrived, so I had to improvise. Hence the decorative feather stitching. I like how this matches the feather stitching on the bodice. Instead of using a single feather stitch however, a friend of mine suggested I do a double, as it is a bit more ornate, which was a brilliant suggestion of hers. This was my second time doing embroidery, so for most of the process I was checking an internet tutorial to make sure everything was being done correctly. I'm really happy with the result. I should mention at this point that I could not find my thimble this entire 10 days, and my sewing space was a complete mess, so there was no way I was going to find the thing in time. Therefore, I am not using a thimble in any of these clips, which is super hypocritical of me, considering I'm always telling people to use a thimble. In this case, do not do as I do, and instead protect your fingers. I'm excited to have my thimble back soon, once I can find it. I decided to only embroider 6 of the 8 tabs, and this is because the furthest two tabs are partially hidden anyways, so I didn't find it necessary to embroider them. To face the tabs, much like with the bodice, each tab is worked individually. I cut a slit all the way to the stitch line, made a series of stay stitches, and reinforced those stitches with densely packed whip stitches. Then I flipped under the seam allowance of the tabs and faced them with the squares of additional fabric, wrong sides to wrong sides. Once the two pieces were pinned together, I proceeded to sew them together using either whip stitches or felled stitches. This was definitely the most time consuming part of making this skirt, and it took me at least 10 hours or so. Then it was on to making the underskirt or skirt lining. The pattern pieces for this are different than the outer skirt, so I had to draft new pieces, which included the front piece cut on the fold, two side pieces, and finally a back panel also cut on a fold. I used the same fabric cutting process for the underskirt, chalk marking, pinning, cutting, and finally thread tracing. I then went ahead and made all the darts, of which there were five, and the front panel was sewn at the side seams to the two side panels using small back stitches. The back panel was cartridge pleated into four inches total and connected to the rest of the underskirt using back stitches at the side seams, thus connecting the entire skirt. However, at the top of the left side seam, I did leave space for an opening which would connect with the placket of the outer skirt. I also hemmed the top of the underskirt panel, preparing it to be attached to the waistband later. Attaching everything to the waistband was a fairly tedious process. The original Garmin's waistband is a pettersham, so I opted for the same. I measured it to make sure it was exactly like the original, 26.5 inches. The extra one half inch is made to accommodate the hook and bar overlap, and the additional one inch is to accommodate the thick pleats. The waistband was hemmed and the sewing began. First, the underskirt was sewn onto the right side of the waistband at the very edge. This was done using small whip stitches and every single cartridge pleat was also whipped onto the waistband individually. Then it was time to layer the outer skirt on top of the lining, again on the right side of the waistband. This is how Janet Arnold states the original Garmin was connected, so I followed orders. Because I decided not to hem my cartridge pleat edges in order to reduce bulk, I decided to pink them, but they will get a ribbon binding attached to them later regardless. I just figured pinking them was a nice extra amount of security. The outer skirt was then pinned and whip stitched onto the waistband at about the halfway mark. It was a wonderful experience being able to properly try on the skirt now with the waistband attached, and the progress was giving me the energy to continue with the project. And of course, the The black ribbon is going to get sewn onto the rest of the waistband to cover up any raw edges. I attached two hooks and bars on the waistband, which are some antique ones in my stash from around 1910, so 20 years too late, but oh well. Also, I should note the original Garmin has hooks and eyes instead of bars mostly, but I prefer bars in this case because I find them to be a bit more especially for supporting such heavy and bulky fabrics. Finally, the rest of the black silk grass grain tape was whip stitched onto the waistband on the right side. My least favorite part came next, the hemming. There was a lot of hemming involved in this project. Around 84 inches for the underskirt, around 60 inches for the outer skirt, and 178 inches for the ruffle, which you'll be seeing soon. This is one of my favorite sewing tools, by the way. It is known as a hem marker. They are a bit challenging to find nowadays, but if you go on eBay and search for a vintage one, there are many inexpensive options available. They basically just ensure that you get an even hem every time because they measure from the ground up instead of the other way around. For the black lining, I chose to hem it slightly shorter than the tabs, as to make sure once the ruffle is added the black lining wouldn't peek out from underneath. The original skirt has another outer fabric hem attached to the lining, which probably helps to prevent this, but I just did not want to hem anything else, so I opted for this solution instead and it worked great. Once the black underskirt was all marked, it was time for the outer skirt. All the hems were then secured using a felt stitch, where I catched just a tiny bit of the outer fabric as to make sure the thread does not show on the right side of the garment. This was done for both skirts. At last, it was the infamous ruffle, which you all have now heard so much about. This ruffle is cut on the bias, meaning it ate up a ton of fabric and had to be pieced a lot. I believe there were six or seven pieces in total to connect, something like that, and I started by making a general pattern, which is about seven inches tall, and I traced the shape out on the bias grain of the cotton twill fabric. Once cut out, I marked on the piece how many inches it was in order to keep track of everything better. Then, all the pieces were combined using some weird hybrid of a mantua maker's seam and a flat felled seam. I'm not even really sure what I did here, I just developed some method that I felt was an easy way to combine the seams and finish them. You can see how insanely long this ruffle is. I sat here hemming in front of the window for about three hours until it was all done. Before ironing the ruffle, I thought it would be fun to wrap myself up in the length of the fabric just to see if it could be made into a dress as is. When else would I get the opportunity to play with a 178 inch long future ruffle? You can see how much of a difference ironing the ruffle makes. Here it is before the ironing and here it is after. Once it was ironed, it honestly looked store-bought and I felt really proud of this little ruffle. Finally, it was time to attach the thing. Using an immensely long silk thread, I made big gathering stitches all along the top edge of the ruffle. Then, I bunched up the ruffle, getting it to the length of the underskirt hem, around 84 inches. I then pinned it to the underskirt and adjusted as needed and eventually whip stitched it to the right of the skirt, keeping a majority of the bulk towards the back of the skirt. Once done, it looked beautiful and it gave the skirt so much extra volume. It also really helps with ease of movement in the skirt. I ended up pinking the raw top edge of the ruffle, but in the future, I plan to bind the top edge with a silk ribbon. The ruffle truly makes a significant difference. Before the ruffle, the skirt looked something like this and after the ruffle, it looked like this. I swear my camera changes the color of this terracotta fabric in every shot. At last, all the main construction was now complete and everything from here on out consisted of finishing touches. For instance, I had to make some unpressed pleats, like where you see this white thread marker, in order to help conceal the placket. Then, I bound the raw edges of the side seams towards the hem of the outer skirt with silk ribbon in order to keep them from poking out underneath the skirt. An additional hook and bar was added above the original one to help the facing lay flatter. I bound the hooks and eyes on the bodice with a silk ribbon for a neater, tidier look. I also placed a series of eyes near to the bones of the bodice and a series of hooks onto the waistband of the skirt because guess what? They connect to one another. Therefore, the bodice helps to support the weight of the back of the skirt so that it doesn't droop as much. How clever were the Victorians with their crafty construction methods? Lastly, the skirt was flipped completely inside out and four ties were sewn onto the back side seams of the lining so that they could be tied together. This is done to help support the massive cartridge pleats and make it more comfortable for walking, assisting in helping the pleats stay out of the way and keeping the fabric stiller. There are still a few things I need to do to fully finish this project. I figured for the purpose of this video and in consideration of time, I could complete these parts off camera. First is adding a pocket. The original pocket of this garment is a single pocket attached to a piece of twill tape which is then attached to the waistband right around here. A concealed slit is cut on the heavily cartridge pleated part of the right side of the outer skirt along with the underskirt as well so the pocket sits at the very inside of the skirt which would make it supremely difficult for unwelcome individuals to access your valuables. I also need to finish most of the inner seams which I will do with silk tape instead of just whipstitches because I feel it is more secure. Oh, I almost forgot. I decided to make a hat to go with this look. That's part of why I ran out of time to make the pocket. Will the pocket gods ever forgive me? For the hat, I used two strips cut from the terracotta twill scraps and I made sure to cut one along the selvedge. That way I could have a nice straight marker line to help keep the ribbon as uniform and even as possible. I pinned them together right sides facing each other and sewed one side using backstitches. Then I marked a straight line going parallel to the selvedge. I stitched that line as well using backstitches being sure to leave some of the stitch undone for an opening. I then pinked all the non-selvedge edges because why not and I clipped the corners to help the edges lay flat. I then undertook the painstaking process of having to flip the tube right side out which honestly took at least an hour. I started with using my hands but by the end I was using household tweezers which actually worked way better. Then the open gap was whip stitched shut and the ribbon was pinned to the straw hat base. Once I was happy with this shape I whip stitched the ribbon on. I decided to go with a sort of flat bow shape. I've never made a hat before so I just sort of made it up as I went along. Finally I decided to pin on my antique early 20th century Czech glass brooch because the color combination just worked perfectly and I felt like it added something special to a very plain hat. I'm so incredibly proud of myself for completing this project. I learned so much and it constantly took me out of my comfort zone. I'm still perplexed that I even got through it after only sewing for 11 months as it was definitely designed for more advanced dressmakers. I again want to extend a massive thank you to Cas McCann and also to all of you for the incredible feedback throughout this entire process and on the channel in general. It is very much appreciated. For now I'm going to take some time to complete a couple of personal sewing projects that I don't film, but towards the end of the year I'm sure I'll be releasing another one of these construction progress videos. I already have some projects lined up for that. In the meantime I hope you'll enjoy the plethora of other diverse historical fashion related content that I will be releasing. Thank you so much for watching.