Now that Orpheus is over I've been working on the bustle end of my 1880s under-structure. The corset was finished last year, and someday I'll write an in-depth blog about it, but for now here is the beginning of what I have.
The Canfield bustle was not the first of its kind. The very first "invisible" bustle was called the
Phantom bustle, it was a gift made for Queen Victoria and was very crude. All the steel hoops connected at a single hinge at the base, which relied on gravity to keep the hoops in place.
The reason these were called invisible/collapsable bustles was due to the ability for the wearer to sit down without worry of cracking or snapping their bustle. (which was a real problem and led to many an awkward injury) The hinged affect allowed for the hoops of the bustle to fold flat much like the calash from the 18th century, then snap back into place when the wearer stood up.
Original Calash, fringe trim. From our horribly maintained costume collection. The accordion look was created using cane, which holds up quite nicely when not put under intense stress, like say, sitting on it.
Now, back to the Canfield bustle. The Canfield bustle improved on the designs of the collapsable bustle with the addition of springs, on either side of the hoops. This, supposedly, pulled the hoops down once the wearer was no longer sitting, allowing for increased comfort and functionality.
Most bustles naturally collapse when off the body. This is due to the steels being sewn into a petticoat of some kind, allowing for the hoops to sit nicely on top of one another when laying flat. However, since this style of bustle needs to swivel, a bone was added down the side of the tournure (fancy french term for bustle) to keep the hoops evenly spaced. But again, if the hoops are being attached to the bones down the side, this still doesn't allow for pivoting!
Materials?
I've found several different pictures of methods used to allow this patented movement. The first, which you can see in the magazine ad above, appears to use the modern equivalent of interlocking D-rings. Another, as seen to the right, uses grommets through the bone.
After an unsuccessful search for a magical bone with attached metal D-rings I stumbled across a wonderful
pre-holed boning. And since I didn't want to order specialized grommets to fit through an excessive amount of layers, I compromised with some nice 7/8" rivets.
The 19th century was the land of new colors and fabrics. Magical mixed fiber fabrics were invented, as well as new weaves. This made for a variety of choices for what to make the base of the bustle with. In the end, I chose some nice twill because I wanted the structural integrity with a bit of forgiveness. (Also it was the perfect color, and on sale for 10$/yrd. Which for JoAnn Fabrics is a steal)
Now for hooping! Time has been kind to the hooping industry. It's now sturdier then ever, and coated in different materials for fun and profit. Since I wanted my bones to be visible and still protected from rust (and also easy to rivet through) I used plastic coated hooping. So far, I have not regretted this decision, but I worry about the integrity of the rivet holes.
Springs? Haven't found some nice long ones yet, will check the local hardware stores eventually, but for right now I'm happy with how it turned out.
On to the doing!
So, I've got my materials, my research, my hopes, dreams, and plans. Time to start draping this mo'fo. Bustles and hoop skirts are all about proportion and spacing. Bustles, especially this style, are a bit easier since the last 4 rows are the same size. But the shape of the top is key. This is what determines what period of bustle you're making. Since mine is a bustle in the later century, just past the largest of the bustles, it has a smaller shelf that was worn with a flounced petticoat. Since I didn't want to wastefully rivet I used some rope, paper fasteners, and my magical bone of holes.
Since I was worried more about shape, I had the bone start at the waist of the mannequin. Once I cut each bone to the size I wanted I begged an audience with my wonderful friend/ reluctant model Ellen (website still to come) and fiddled with it on a real butt. Because mannequins don't have them and padding is never quite right.
This caused a whole new "Ah-ha!" moment when I realized I could in fact, cut out the middle man and connect the size lacing directly to the bones! No stress on seams, no odd stretching of fabric= longer lifespan of the bustle= happy EB.
This did however mean I had to be quite careful with my grommets, since most aren't sized to go through bone. I lucked out and they just fit around all the layers. And thus the days of hole punching, riveting, and grommeting commenced.
When it was all over and the dust settled I wound up with quite an attractive little bustle. Sitting works quite well and theres a surprise upside of placing the lacing right below the buttock which is that it feels oddly comforting. If it was just me I wouldn't say anything, but so far everyone who has tried it on has mentioned how comfortable their derrière felt when incased in steel.
There are of course, a few things still to be done with it:
Since the bone is dropped below the waistband there is some pulling, this changes depending on who is wearing it, but I think if I add a second bone that runs the length of the side piece this will stop it from being weird. I might nix this though if it makes the bustle sit less smooth on a person.
As mentioned before the springs have yet to be selected, so once I have them I can start playing with placement.
I have to put closures on the waistband, but it's just so fun to put it on everyone I know. I've decided to leave as much of the waistband as possible so that it can continue to be adjusted for many years. Though I may breakdown and just put a bunch of bars on the thing...
Here it is loosely tied around a mannequin before I put the final rivets in.
