16th Century Italian Working Class Gown
By: Catherine Griffith (SCA: Baroness Catherine Grace Fitzlewis QC)
I decided to make an Italian working class dress for a couple of reasons. The first reason was because I wanted to try cartridge pleating, and the second reason was because I got some great wool for a steal on e-bay, and it said Italian working class to me. This is a diary on the research and making of this dress.
I chose wool for this dress because wool and linen would have been the most commonly used textiles for a working class Italian in the 16th century. If pressed to describe the color of my wool, I would call it a wedge woody blue.
I drafted the pattern on my own body due to a disaster I once had drafting a bodice that was meant to be self-supporting on my dress form. My ribcage is small, but my bust large--the dress form's ribcage is what grows, and the bust stays small. So anyway, after making an entire bodice and trying it on, it only succeeded in flattening my chest and letting it slide down in the bodice.
I have decided on a front closure for this dress. There are examples of both front and back closures in the paintings I have seen, and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to which of the two closures is used outside of personal preference of the wearer.
 
I hand-stitched green wool guards on, and although the front guard looks curved now, it is straight when worn. The back of the bodice also has green wool guards.
 
The bodice is put together with a few special details. In the lining, I sewed 2 pieces of 1/8th-inch hemp cord to help stiffen the front and I used a lacing technique I learned from Jen Thompson's website. I ran a length of ribbon down the front of the dress making 1/4-inch channels for lacing to pass through every 1.5 inches or so. The bodice was made entirely finished without the skirt (I turned it through the side seam), as the skirt will be added on by hand later. Below is what the cording, channels, and lacing looks like on the finished bodice (inside out).
 
I have about 5 yard of wool total, and the same amount of linen, in this dress (four yards of each went into the skirt, and a yard of each into the bodice). The fabric was 60-inch wide, so I was able to get the sleeves off the skirt-length waste. There is a layer of wool felt in between the wool and lining to help beef up the pleats. After drawing the pleats up onto 2 string cords, I sewed them by hand onto the bodice using quilt thread and multiple rows (this is the point where I wore a hole in my finger), of stiches. If you look at most of the skirts in the paintings of this period, they appear to be cartridge pleated.

Example of pleated waist,
Vincentro Campi: Market, 1580's
Pinascotecca di Brera, Milan.
I put a guard on the hem using the green wool, and next moved onto the sleeves. I decided to do the sleeves from this painting because I liked the shape and simplicity of them. I chose to place the guard further back on my sleeve--which is slightly bent with a center-back seam.
 
The final details are a partlet and apron. The partlet is the same one that I use for my 16th century Flemish dress. What I was most surprised about with this dress was how well the bodice supports me. I would normally never consider going without a bra, but I just might brave it in this dress as I have jumped around and not slipped.
I had a good time on this dress, and I have learned a lot. I hope that this page is a little informative, and I would like to thank Jen Thompson, for without her hard work in putting together a gallery, the research for this dress would have been ten-times harder.
 













