Lucille’s Robe Is A Fabric-Smuggling Operation
or, How I Resigned Myself To Spending My Tips For The Next Few Months On Silk Habotai
so, as some of you may know, I am finally attempting to realize my long-standing dream of owning Lucille Sharpe’s nightgown and robe from Crimson Peak. they’re gorgeous, they look very comfy, and I’m a big goth drama queen who’s been spending vastly more of her time in loungewear since last March
(is that about to change? possibly. but I’m still not exactly a social butterfly. badum-tss.)
I have a pattern that will probably make a good base for the nightgown on the way- Reconstructing History’s “women’s Irish leine” pattern, specifically. so I turned my attention to the robe
because like. you have to have the robe, obviously
and what I found was a secret method for getting a lot of Billow(TM) out of a relatively sleek garment. well, not exactly secret, but not easily noticed while watching a movie
as you can see, the entire back is reverse-box-pleated. it only shows in close-up, but it means the robe sits relatively flat against her back while still being super-voluminous (and the neckline/front opening edges appear to be finished with self bias binding, though I might be “reading” that wrong)
the sleeves look like a top piece that’s also pleated, and an underside piece that isn’t. I...think the two pieces are joined at the back and left open in the front, not just completely unattached to each other? I’ll have to watch a bit more
I honestly can’t think of ANYTHING to use as a base pattern for this. I got lucky with the leine, but now I might have to actually drape/draft something more complicated than a 1920s evening gown bodice on my own body. for the first time