Inspired By: the LACMA gown - Part 1

Facebook Memories (which is a really handy tool!) tells me that it has been exactly one year since I started patterning and draping this gown.  Of course, I had been thinking about it and dreaming about making it and formulating plans for several years before that, but I first put pencil to muslin to begin working on the actual shapes for the gown on May 12th, 2019. 

I wish I could pinpoint the moment I learned about this gown and fell in love with it.  I was living in Washington State when LACMA debuted their "Fashioning Fashion" exhibit, and I believe I was given the gorgeously detailed exhibit book for Christmas that year.

Here is the gown in question:

And here is some information about the provenance of the gown and its style details, at least what I've been able to gather from the museum website, the textile curators I've spoken with, and other pictures I've found of it online.

The museum's description states that it is from France, ca. 1785.  The textile is a "silk plain weave and silk twill," and it's designated a robe a l'anglaise, which is a term for a gown that has a back bodice cut in one with the skirt, with the rest of the skirt panels stitched together and then pleated onto the bodice.  It's a round gown, so the front part of the skirt is separate from the bodice and acts as a petticoat, tying around the waist to the back, with the ties hidden under the bodice.  The front bodice pieces have strips of eyelets sewn to their linings that can be laced up to hold the fronts in place slightly overlapped, and then they are pinned together, but the lacing is what bears the strain rather than the pins.

What's interesting about this gown is that if you look closely at the bodice (and there are images that allow you to zoom closer in on the details here) you can see that there are, for lack of a better term, "flaps" that come around from the side and end halfway across the bust.  They don't meet at the center, they just kind of stop midway across the bust.  There's a style that came into fashion around the time of this gown's given date called a "zone" front, so named because there is a "zone" (from the bottom of the bodice to about the sternum) that is one fabric, and then flaps in a different fabric that are either pointed or rounded that meet at the center at the top of the bodice.  But that's not exactly what this is; there are those who believe that it's evidence of the gown having been altered at some point, but I'm not certain that's the case.  Either way, it's a unique feature that demonstrates that this gown is right on the cusp of a change in what was fashionable, and it was either updated to reflect those new trends, or it was done this way as a kind of compromise.

Even though I have still never actually seen this gown in person, it's easy to see that it has a lot of presence and impact, and of course I was drawn to it because of the striking purple and white stripes (purple being my favorite color!).  But the other thing that really started to get me thinking seriously about trying to make my own version of this gown was its date and place of provenance: France, 1785.  Since Abigail Adams is my historical persona, I'm always thinking about what her wardrobe would have actually consisted of at various times in her life. 

In spring of 1778, John Adams (accompanied by his son John Quincy), sailed to Europe as "Minister Plenipotentiary."  His first posting was ostensibly to join Dr. Franklin in France and negotiate an alliance between that country and the newly formed United States.  Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, the treaty had already been signed, but he remained and spent some time in Spain and in Amsterdam seeking financial support for his fledgling country before finally being appointed Ambassador to the Court of St. James in London.  After many years of pleading from John, Abigail finally joined him in Europe in 1784.  More specifically, she joined him in Paris in 1784.  So in the year 1785, she was living with him in France, and she had learned pretty quickly that being the wife of a lawyer, farmer and Delegate to the Continental Congress was very different from being the wife of a diplomat.  She deplored that she would never be completely up to date with French fashions. 

There is no documentation specifically linking Abigail to this gown (in fact I don't know if there is any information about who owned and/or wore it) but it's certainly reasonable to assume she had a gown (or several!) similar to this style.  She may not have been inclined to wear something this intricately patterned and showy; I gather from her letters and wills and inventories that she seemed to prefer simpler styles in plain woven fabrics.  But we definitely know how much she enjoyed shopping.  The Adamses' friendship with Jefferson was solidified in France; Jefferson even left his daughter Mary ("Polly") in Abigail's care for a considerable amount of time.  When the Adamses had relocated to London and Jefferson remained in Paris, Abigail sent letters to Jefferson giving directions for him to order her and Nabby several pairs of silk shoes, trusting him to know which were the most fashionable colors.

The next post on this dress will dive into the process of making it, starting with that amazing fabric!!