Clothing Colonial Williamsburg ~ All Things Cloth and Leather

 September 18 – 20, 2022, by Amy

The majority of the clothes and shoes worn by the costumed interpreters and shopkeepers in Colonial Williamsburg, is produced right in the shops.  Open days and hours vary with each shop, with opening being denoted by a flag in a stand along the sidewalk. 

All of the work is done with eighteenth century equipment only, so is time consuming and tedious.  Those occupying the open shops are not there merely to demonstrate their craft, but to work on projects.  They are usually happy to answer questions as they work, and some of them have sort of a set spiel that give, that may occasionally have some political correctness thrown in. If you can find a shop that isn't busy, and are curious enough to ask questions, you'll step back out onto the street with a wealth of information and a vision of what it must have been like to, for example, purchase a gown in the eighteenth century.  Below, the mistress of the Milliner and Mantua Maker shop (dressmakers) explains some of the variations in women's undergarments.

Milliner and Mantua Maker shop

Before the years of factory-made clothing, and even before sewing patterns for specific sizes could be purchased, the mantua maker would fit the clothing directly to a person's body for a perfect fit.  Many measurement would be taken, cut pieces of fabric draped, tucked and pinned, before sewing would commence.  And of course multiple fittings.  If a person was unable to come into the shop, a well-fitted garment could be sent in to be copied, and from that, a new gown created.

Mantua apprentices sewing by the light of the sunny front window

While the ladies of Williamsburg had someone else to stitch their gowns, accomplished women still kept their fingers busy with fancywork.  Below, the mistress shows an embroidered pocket.  

Gowns were made with slits in the sides.  This fancy pocket could be embellished in any way, and didn't have to match the wearer's gown, as it was worn between the gown and petticoat.  One could discreetly reach in for a needed item.

Beautifully embroidered women's pocket

Today the Weaver's Shop combines all the tasks that go into creating both linen and woolen fabric.  The Leicester Longwool sheep (a breed originally from Britain) that dot the pastures around Williamsburg, produce a wool that is soft and easy to work with, falling in long ringlets.  

After the wool is washed and either combed or carded, it is spun.  Below, the weaver's hands keep busy as she chatters about the trade.  I admit, she was not my favorite person as she talked much, and listened little.  Most of what I learned was from previous visits, or researched from the Colonial Williamsburg webpage.

Once a month there is a Dyeing Day outside behind the weaver's shop.  There, over open fires the fibers go through two different water processes, scouring (deep cleaning) and mordanting (to create color-fastness) before being placed in various natural dyes.  

A large loom stood in front of the sunny window.  Much of the fabric worn around Williamsburg was created on this loom.  It's also used to create rugs, coverlets and blankets.

In addition to wool, the weavers work with cotton and linen.  Linen, the stuff that looks like horsetails in the photo below, is produced with the fibers of the flax plant.  I believe that Colonial Williamsburg is still working on establishing flax as a crop, using eighteenth century methods.  

At the Tailors Shop we were greeted by a man sitting cross-legged on a broad, low table.  Not "Indian style" as I had always heard it called, nor "crisscross applesauce" as it may be called in kindergarten.  The proper term, according to the tailor, is, and always has been, "tailor style".  

Hands ever busy as he spoke, the tailor shared a wealth of information with us while hemming the sleeve of a man's green woolen coat.  The broad table can be used for two tailors working side by side to complete a garment in a more timely manner.  Having sat this way most of his life, this tailor-style position was comfortable for him, but to me it looked rather painful.  

Primarily menswear was made here, from undergarments of soft cottons and linens, to fancy brocade jackets.  The tailor was very knowledgeable about weaving, and explained in detail about the construction of brocade.  Unfortunately I didn't write it down so can't recall, but it required many extra steps on the loom.  The process that eventually mechanized this was the precursor of the computer. 

Bolts of fabrics of all kinds, along with trims and thread filled the shelves of the tailors shop.  Some of the fabric was created at the weavers, others was purchased elsewhere.  Likewise, some of the garments made here clothe the reenactors in the Revolutionary city, others are created on order for museums elsewhere.   

Stepping into the Public Leatherworks, one is greeted by a knowledgeable and personable man. With round, brass spectacles perched upon his hat, he shared about the construction of all things leather.  

He pondered aloud why, with horses being the common mode of transportation in Colonial Williamsburg, he didn't have more orders for them, but rather for clothing and accessories.  On the table in front of him is a belt with sheath for some type of sword or dagger.  A good listener, the proprietor of this shop was very open to our questions.

While he no doubt knew where everything was, the organizer in me wanted to step behind the counter and rearrange his messy shelves.

These doeskin boys breeches were unimaginably soft.  I'm sure they'd last pretty much forever and get passed down through a string of little boys. 

On my trip with my parents and Alyssa, the Shoemaker shop was housed in a tiny building on the Duke of Gloucester Street.  There a cozy fire kept the small building warm, and the leather supple for working with.  Due to covid concerns, in the last couple of years it has been relocated into this larger, open building behind the Public Armory.  Certainly more room to spread out the mess. 

Sporting some striking purple stockings, the shoemaker was busily working, but open to questions.  My stay here was brief though, as we were soon to be heading for the airport.

Clad in a sturdy leather apron, an apprentice shoemaker works away in a corner, smoothing down the leather heel of a shoe.  

Most customers coming into this shop in the 1700s would have purchased shoes ready made.  If they had unusually sized feet, they could have ordered a pair specially made.  In the eighteenth century, shoes were not created with a right and a left shoe, but rather formed to the wearer's foot.  

A wooden shoe last was used by the shoemaker to form the leather shoe.  While the majority of the shoes made in this shop were sturdy leather, made for striding down uneven cobbles, or boots made to fit well in a stirrup, fashionable fancy shoes were also worn in Colonial Williamsburg.  Fashions in the city came directly from England, so while a lady wouldn't have owned a pair of Keds, she would have certainly had a fancy pair of ballroom slippers made of silk or the finest leather. 

xxx