Dancong Oolong Delights

Kiki’s Delivery Service: takes place in the regular world— albeit at some nebulous point in time— but also magic is real and witches are a thing. Witches exist in this world because it’s fun and we like them. It’s fantasy elements in a familiar setting— essentially urban or modern fantasy.

Porco Rosso: takes place in an extremely specific place and time and contains exactly one fantastical element— Marco’s pig head— which is never given an explanation and is never questioned as a biological impossibility. It’s clearly a metaphor and commentary on a real world issue but it’s also very much literal. This dude 100% has a pig head. No other mentions of magic are made. This is magical realism.

Chimps are much admired for their tool use and for their problem-solving relationship with things as they find them...the orang is, let us say, not so replete with enterprise. Give an orangutan the hexagonal peg and the several shapes of hole, and then hide behind the two-way mirror and watch how he engages with the problem.

And watch and watch and watch--because he does not engage with the problem. He uses the peg to scratch his back, has a look-see at his right wrist, makes a half-hearted and soon abandoned attempt to use his fur as a macramé project, stares dreamily out the window if there is one and at nothing in particular if not, and the sun begins to set. (The sun will also set if you are observing a chimp, but the chimp is more amusing, so you are less likely to mark the moment in your notes. An orang observer has plenty of time to be a student of the vanities of sunset.)

You watch, and the orang dreams...when casually and as if thinking of something else, the orang slips the hexagonal peg into the hexagonal hole. And continues staring off dreamily."

I have several pet peeves about historical costuming. While I try not to get too annoying about it (cough stop calling the straight front corset an "S bend" cough), it's time to get on my soapbox about boning.

My credentials: I am a published dress historian specializing in 19th-century Western womenswear. I have handled and studied hundreds of bodices of varying qualities, from Maison Worth couture right down to cheap, home-made clothing. I have also made these things myself and understand how technique affects results.

There is a tendency when sewing bodices to bone every single vertical seam, as it keeps them taut and reduces wrinkling.

But it's a massive fucking drag and sometimes you still get wrinkling! (And, if you're using steel boning, it weighs a ton.) So, consider going without.

--Hey, what??

Yes. Here is an interior shot of a c. 1897 bodice that has boning in every seam. Theoretically, the standard to which we aspire--right?

This used to be in my collection (KL 24.26) and the pattern is available here. It has since passed into new hands.

There are fifteen bones in that bodice. You can tell the maker wanted it to go as fast as possible, so they used a catch/cross-stitch to whack it all on.

My soapbox message today is that actually, proper fitting is FAR more important than boning every single one of your goddamn seams. Also, no boning is accurate too. See exhibit B:

This is a c. 1890 bodice. There are zero bones in it.

This is still in my collection; KL 26.5. Haven't contemplated patterning it yet.

Boning is, to some extent, a practical consideration (see above note about tautness). Equally, it is a mark of quality, expense, and time period. What do I mean by this?

Quality and expense: Bodices by better dressmakers, who charged higher prices, tend to have finishings that go above and beyond and represent a serious labor commitment. These two bodices are a good comparison for that; you can see that the blue one (which is silk, by the by) has the seam allowances pinked (the zig-zagged edges) while the tan one's raw edges were fully bound (a royal pain in the ass and major time sink, but looks fantastic). Equally, you'll sometimes see very nice, expensive bodices lined in china silk, while the cheap ones get lined in cotton.

You don't really need a silk lining or bound edges for something to be functional or even beautiful. The pinking did the "preventing fraying" job just fine. Equally, adding boning can sometimes cover up a bad fit job. Throughout the period, some bodices do not have any boning; some have partial boning, and some are fully-boned, and the correlation is very much [more expensive] 🤝 [more boning].

Time period: Boning is temporal--meaning that amounts increase as the century progresses. I have found that even by the 1880s, it is somewhat rare to find fully-boned bodices anywhere outside of couture establishments. Before that period, it's almost unheard of. But in the 1890s, you start to see a lot more boning at all levels of making! This might be a result of increasing availability (of boning in dry-goods and department stores; of pre-cased boning; and of different, cheaper varieties of boning) and also of changing sewing culture, with sewing books and magazines telling the reader to add boning to every seam.

Up through the 1830s, it's rare to see any boning.

From the 1840s-70s, the general rhythm is to bone the main pair of darts; sometimes both sets; sometimes sides; sometimes center backs. Usually not everything at once, and often the bones are quite short and just target the waist area. I *frequently* see bodices with no boning even in the 1870s, especially day bodices, and it's also common to just see 2-4 bones total, maybe 6 if they were really fierce about it.

With the long cuirass basques of the 1880s, boning helps to get around the wrinkling that comes with bad fitting and big hip spring from small waistlines. The 1890s took that and ran with it, and bodices in the 1900s are frankly over-engineered in every way, so of course they have it too.

Anyway, all this is to say that you don't have to go hard about boning bodices. Bone the closures if it's a lace-up situation, certainly, and boning can help if you don't have the skills to fit something perfectly. But in the long run, perfecting your fitting work (and wearing the right corset) will mostly obviate any need for boning.

See:

"Whalebones may be used, if desired, in all the seams, except the curved seams in the back, where they should never be placed, though some dressmakers put them in every seam. If a dress is properly fitted, and worn over a well-fitting corset, whalebones are not really needed in any seam." S. T. Allen, "Dressmaking at Home," The Woman's Book, vol. 1 (NY: Scribner, 1894), 256.

This post is directed at a dear friend of mine who likes to judge me when my makes don't have any boning in them.

See below: there is no boning in this bodice. The fitting was decent enough that it just didn't need it!

Bodice pattern is @mimicofmodes' Peacock Bodice, which is taken from an original (though I do believe the OG has some boning, lol). A very fun make from 2020. :)

First artfight of the year, hopefully not the last

For @feytouched of Alexa. Loved her design and had a great time doing this spread.

A tiny spinning update: my ability to spin very fine singles is progressing quite well! I'm a long way from spinning a plied laceweight yarn (or sewing thread, as I've seen some people do!), but it's been so satisfying to get a fairly consistent laceweight single.

me: yeah i know, they’re all primary colors, it’s perfect

When you go for an MLS (Master’s of Library Science, which is a thing, and which is usually required for “professional-level” library work [which is also a weird and contentious concept that I won’t go into here]), one of the things you study is the organization of information. This deals with how to determine what a book or other material is “about"—a concept we tongue-in-cheek call “aboutness"—and how to convey that to a potential user of the item and make it easy for them to find. Things like keywords and subject headings, do I put this book about how often wild birds attack aerial drones in with books about birds or with books about technology, if its a fictional novel do I put fantasy in it’s own section or mix it in with all of the other fiction, so on and so on.

OP is organizing books by how they would look for them. OP’s partner is thinking in terms of aboutness. This is a system that works for OP because it’s their personal library: they know basically what books they own and they only own books that are relevant to them, and if they know what the book looks like, that can be a quick way to find it.

In a library that assumes the public (or people who do not own that particular collection of books) are using the collection, that doesn’t work. Books are often re-issued in multiple covers, or re-bound in new covers when they get worn out, and if the user doesn’t know what the book looks like or is expecting a different cover, they’re lost. That’s why non-personal libraries used standardized cataloging systems like the Dewey Decimal System or Library of Congress System to organize a book by what it’s “about”, and then put books about the same or similar topics together, marked with labels and signage so a person unfamiliar with the book or collection can find their way to it.

Basically, OP’s system works for their own personal library, because it’s best suited to how the primary user—OP themselves—looks for books. OP’s librarian partner is coming from a background of thinking in terms of a public-facing collection, where aboutness is the key criteria and communicating it to a user unfamiliar with the collection is the priority.

Made this post about 15 minutes after the repair guy who fixed the pump on my dishwasher packed up his tools and left, as the dishwasher was whirring along doing my dishes from that morning.

Here is a playlist all about how dishwashers work by youtube's favorite deranged appliance guy. Through "the magic of buying two of them" Alec shows how to get the most out of your dishwasher, including proper detergent dosage, the miracles of prewash deterget, proper cycle setting, "to rinse or not to rinse", and yes - running the tap to hot before running a cycle.

Plus make sure to take breaks regularly - and stop if anything starts to hurt!