What happens when classical simplicity meets feminine extravagance? Well, here’s a dainty survivor from long ago, with a feature quite fashionable in its day – sooo very “Regency.” The sleeves remind me of a three-scoop ice cream cone! They’re called by various names today, but I can find no specific period name for them. Like other fashions that tend toward “profusion,” they were subject to satire.

Sadly, the bodice has lost its collar, possibly removed for use in another garment. It may have lost something else, too! It could have been worn as a habit-shirt/tucker/chemisette, but there are signs that it was originally attached to a skirt.

A lot of the fashion plates I’ve seen depicting these multi-puffed sleeves are c.1810-15, but I’m not knowledgeable enough to date this one with any certainty. I am, however, always wildly curious to see how unusual styles were contrived and constructed. How did they make the puffs puff? It was fun to peek inside and see.

The bodice itself is simple enough. It opens in the front, with two double buttonholes at the top for linked buttons, and one glass button (original?) at the bottom. There are adjustable gathering tapes at the “waist” front and at the wrists. There’s piping at the shoulders and a single tuck on the upper arms. (I forgot to fold it down for the photo.) There are gathers on the shoulders and at the center back. Each puffed “scoop” is gathered to a narrow band made out of the same fabric. It’s not one long, full sleeve piece gathered or tied at intervals.

Here’s my chance to slip in plain sewing stitches: the view from inside shows the backstitching that was used to attach the sleeve, the overcasting that prevented raveling, and the whipped gathers that attached the fullness to the plain band. (Click the image above and below for a larger view.)

And now the most curious part: the puffs are held in place with tacked-on cord! It looks just like any cotton string you can buy today. Can you imagine the effort of getting the lengths all set and the placement just right? I imagine it felt a little awkward to wear, too.

The fullness of the back is gathered and tucked in between a linen tape and the dress fabric, and then sewn to a cord on the inside to hold the gathers in place.

One tiny, beautifully worked darn is hidden under the arm. It’s easy to see how vulnerable these fine fabrics were to damage. Even in its youth, the muslin was fragile and the lightest pull or snag could mean disaster. Not to mention laundering, which could have been as hazardous as wearing!

So there you have it, inside and out. I wish I knew the history – I’ve seen pictures of this same bodice on the internet, so I know it’s been through other hands. But alas, I may never learn its story. I also wonder whether the gown was worn starched so that the puffs would be full, or whether they were allowed to droop gracefully. Because of the sleeves’ crepe-like texture, and no trace of starch, I vote for drooping. Although when posed on the mannequin, gravity makes it look like the ice cream is melting. But then gravity eventually does that to us all!