Pharaby, all 16 inches of her, is finally dressed. And contrary to my original intentions, this may be her only outfit! No Pharaby, it’s not you, it’s me.
Since I haven’t posted our progress on the gown and final accessories, I decided to say it with (mostly) pictures. For the gown, I’d purchased a red and white cotton that proved not to be colorfast. Guess who has a cute little pink spotted ironing board cover now? However, I’m so in love with the fabric that I’d choose it again. It reminds me of the dress on the Dudmaston doll, seen here.
We started with the usual nightmare of pattern-making misery, as I tried to draw a bodice that would fit her form. Yes, I know some people can do this in 3 minutes or less.It looks so simple once it’s cut. It wasn’t.You wouldn’t know that I took a dressmaking workshop at Colonial Williamsburg a lifetime ago. I was too dazzled for much to stick. The nicest memory I have of it is their relaxed attitude toward mistakes. “Yaroo!” as Flavia de Luce would say!When it started to look like a teensy little gown I began to get excited – motivation to see it through!Do you know what the “F” and “B” stand for?I had to sew the skirt to a paper strip in order to get the pleats even sort of even.At last! The gown is finished. Or is it? Maybe you’ll notice an alteration in the final photos.And here’s the petticoat, the only really easy part to sew.A close-up of the gown folded open, showing the linen lining pieced just like originals could be. Theirs were probably due to a scarcity of fabric. Mine was due to inept fitting.Gown with matching petticoat.A view from the back.I was complaining earlier about the accumulation of stuff around Pharaby’s middle. At this point I decided to replace the waistband on her under petticoat to make it more to scale – and reduce her girth.
With the gown and petticoat finished, I moved on to her apron. I wanted to use some original 1770s patterns for the embroidery. However … with my limited fancywork repertoire, I had to choose REALLY SIMPLE designs that could be done in a couple different stitches. Like chainstitch. Buttonhole. Running.
I scanned the original pattern and then scaled it to different sizes to find one that would work. Ok, it’s really still too big, but we settled.The edges are buttonholed, the leaves are simple running or darning stitches, and the sprigs are chainstitch. The leaves looked horrible when I was working them, but once they were all done it wasn’t quite so bad.The apron, modeled by Pharaby.
Next came her handkerchief (or fichu, or half-handkerchief). I didn’t do any lace or embroidery on it, since she planned to wear it tucked in. It’s made of the same lovely muslin as her apron. It’s different from her sleeve ruffles, which were salvaged from an antique piece. The older stuff just can’t be matched today, although this came pretty close!
Her fichu, tucked in place; tiny brass pins keep everything secure.From the back, with her hircine wig curls wimping out in our Georgia humidity.Most of my silk ribbon was for embroidery and too narrow for the cap. So like everyone else in the colonies, we had to wait on the latest imported goods to find just the right ribbon. A couple of little thread loops were required to hold the ribbon in place on the back, since I wanted it removable. And without having to pick out tacking threads!
Last of all were the shoes. I hadn’t a clue how to do them and I’m afraid it shows. This time I didn’t even bother reading or watching tutorials. I just jumped in with both…hands. Pharaby’s poor little feet are only an inch and a half long, and unique. I don’t mean compared to other doll feet, I mean compared to each other. So I made paper ones for patterns, and then used silk scraps and lined them with linen. They’re green because that’s what I had, and I happen to adore green shoes. They’re bound with blue ribbon because the only ribbon wide enough was some left from her cap!
She has Cinderella tendencies. The right shoe occasionally goes its own way when we’re not looking.The soles are made from bits off a leather apron. I’m a little embarrassed to show them since they fall so far short of the exquisite slippers I’ve seen done by experts. But everybody needs shoes to relax in and not worry about spoiling. Right?Pharaby practices directing traffic or perhaps gazes blankly at a wall of ivy, so that you may see her from the back. She’s wearing her bum roll for a little poofiness in the petticoats.
So Pharaby’s finished, for now anyway. She’s very dear to me, after this long adventure. And she’ll always be a reminder of my father’s love of fun – and love for me.
What a fabulous post! Fascinating, honest, beautiful clear photographs and just the right amount of text to keep the reader absolutely hooked. Every stage of the process is inspiring. I love the shoes.
Thank you so very much! I believe your embroidery would bear the closest scrutiny without flinching. Mine is a defensive maneuver – I point out the errors before someone else does. And trust to galloping horses!😉
Thank you. But trust me, galloping horses are not required – most people will have trouble seeing errors even when you point to them! I speak from experience…
I read your post slowly and then a slow scroll down to see the illustrative photo. As I left the description of the shoes and scrolled down to see what you had made I gasped. Darling little slippers !!! Plus your text made me laugh in several places ! (Galloping horses play a large part in my handwork too –hmmm, I think I know where you and I got that expression). I love dear little Pharaby.
My father made a doll for me too. I call her Lovisa Ulrika after the queen of Sweden and Finland of 18th century. Making a post of her soon. My father made a child for her too! Then he said “But from now on you have to learn how to make these yourself!” He even made a Babyhouse for me. It’s a copy of an english extant one.
I only recently found your blog, and have been reading my way from past to present. I adore The Story of Pharaby. She’s equisite. Have you considered making a book of her?
What a lovely thing to say – you’ve brightened my day! Pharaby herself might be pretty entertaining in a book, but it’s doubtful whether this dollmaker would be a good bookmaker (ooh! but how dashing to call myself a bookie, ha!). I sincerely thank you for the compliment, and I’m tickled that you’ve enjoyed Pharaby’s adventures. Now I’m feeling like I ought to make her another outfit….
Stumbled on you fantastic blog today and fell in love with it, especially Pharaby! I started my needlework hobby by making historical clothing for Barbie dolls and this brings back so many memories. I’ll definitely have to come back to dolls when (and if) I have the time… Totally agree with Tracy too, Pharaby’s Story would make an absolutely lovable book!
Thank you so much, you are most kind! I’m afraid any book on Pharaby’s wardrobe creation would best be illustrated by the two of us facing across the sewing table, both with arms folded and glaring at each other. Pharaby frustrated with me, and … me, frustrated with me! 🙂
I hope you get back to dolls, even exasperating ones can be fun!
Two Threads Back 
Swoon!
Everything is exquisite, including her shoes…I speak as one who has struggled with tiny seams and fittings…curtsey in your general direction!
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Wow, seeing how beautifully you manage miniatures, I take that as a compliment indeed! Thank you most sincerely!
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What a fabulous post! Fascinating, honest, beautiful clear photographs and just the right amount of text to keep the reader absolutely hooked. Every stage of the process is inspiring. I love the shoes.
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Thank you most kindly! And for not being hard on the shoes. 😉
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Very well done indeed. I know how it is to see every error magnified, but believe me, most of the people who see her won’t see a single one!
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Thank you so very much! I believe your embroidery would bear the closest scrutiny without flinching. Mine is a defensive maneuver – I point out the errors before someone else does. And trust to galloping horses!😉
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Thank you. But trust me, galloping horses are not required – most people will have trouble seeing errors even when you point to them! I speak from experience…
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I read your post slowly and then a slow scroll down to see the illustrative photo. As I left the description of the shoes and scrolled down to see what you had made I gasped. Darling little slippers !!! Plus your text made me laugh in several places ! (Galloping horses play a large part in my handwork too –hmmm, I think I know where you and I got that expression). I love dear little Pharaby.
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I keep a stable just for that purpose, ha! But if you want to see truly beautiful work, try pinterest: antique doll shoes. Oh my! Keeps one humble.
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My father made a doll for me too. I call her Lovisa Ulrika after the queen of Sweden and Finland of 18th century. Making a post of her soon. My father made a child for her too! Then he said “But from now on you have to learn how to make these yourself!” He even made a Babyhouse for me. It’s a copy of an english extant one.
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I hope you do it soon! I’d love to see her and the child doll – and the house, too. You are most fortunate!
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I only recently found your blog, and have been reading my way from past to present. I adore The Story of Pharaby. She’s equisite. Have you considered making a book of her?
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What a lovely thing to say – you’ve brightened my day! Pharaby herself might be pretty entertaining in a book, but it’s doubtful whether this dollmaker would be a good bookmaker (ooh! but how dashing to call myself a bookie, ha!). I sincerely thank you for the compliment, and I’m tickled that you’ve enjoyed Pharaby’s adventures. Now I’m feeling like I ought to make her another outfit….
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Stumbled on you fantastic blog today and fell in love with it, especially Pharaby! I started my needlework hobby by making historical clothing for Barbie dolls and this brings back so many memories. I’ll definitely have to come back to dolls when (and if) I have the time… Totally agree with Tracy too, Pharaby’s Story would make an absolutely lovable book!
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Thank you so much, you are most kind! I’m afraid any book on Pharaby’s wardrobe creation would best be illustrated by the two of us facing across the sewing table, both with arms folded and glaring at each other. Pharaby frustrated with me, and … me, frustrated with me! 🙂
I hope you get back to dolls, even exasperating ones can be fun!
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Well at least we have your blog posts for inspiration so I’m sure I will 😀
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