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The Victorian Strolls happened again this year. Please note the lack of enthusiasm. My spirit is weary.
I did the Saratoga Victorian Streetwalk with my family on Thursday, November 30th. The planners brought back the magical window ballerinas, in even greater numbers than last year.
One of our first stops was a beef jerky store. After we made our purchase, we were offered delicious mulled cider from a crockpot. I love that every person makes mulled cider a little differently, but all the versions taste good. This one had oranges floating in it with whole cloves stuck all over them, which made the cider aesthetic as well as tasty.
Everyone in our family was properly dressed for the weather this year, except for one precious child who inexplicably remembered his waistcoat, top hat, and cane, but somehow neglected to bring a blazer, even though he had two at home.
We wandered around, danced to an excellent 90’s cover band, and ate a good, glutenous dinner at Pizza 7 at the end of the evening. We stayed at the pizza place until closing, and they sent us home with the leftovers from their by-the-slice offerings.
I worked a night shift that Friday. I did trouble shooting to upgrade my costume for historical accuracy in between working and sleeping, and then that Sunday went to the stroll in Troy with costuming friends.
I haven’t wanted to talk about any of it because it seems tasteless in light of what is happening in Gaza.
I’m writing a quick blurb on my experience because doing that or not doing that isn’t going to change what is happening. Plus, I discovered the day I wrote this that the “White House comments” inbox is so full that my emails are bouncing back, which means I am not alone in my outrage.
I could just write post after post about Palestine, but information is freely available on the internet, and doing that wouldn’t be great for my mental health.
This man gives me hope. I respect him so much.
This year’s costume, like last year’s, was curated by me, but mostly not made by me. Last year I was trapped in the torpor of depression and unable to make my costume. I was saved by a friend who gave me a dress of hers that no longer fit (now, it no longer fits me, either.)
This year, a family crisis completely consumed me for the two months before the stroll, and I was unable to do anything other than occasionally stress out that I didn’t have a plan for my costume, while being unable to do anything about it.
I did kind of have a plan, but I would have liked to have had time and a clear vision of what I was trying to do so it didn’t feel so thrown together. What I really wanted was the time and brain space to make a bustle dress. (Ha.)
That first year, when I was putting together costumes for everyone, I was owning that we were doing the 1860’s. Since it was my first time costuming, it wasn’t going to be perfect, and that was OK. I still feel that way about the Saratoga Streetwalk with the fam – it’s just for fun, and historically adequate is just fine.
For the Sunday Stroll with my fellow costumers, there’s this internal narrative that since I’ve been doing this for a few years, I have to have a better costume each year. It doesn’t need to be new, just more historically accurate. This applies even when I tackle a time period I haven’t done before, like the 1890’s look I was going for this year.
I have difficulty discerning the trends that separate one decade or year from the next. I can see that the clothes are different, but I can’t translate it into practice. I’ll look at a thousand Victorian fashion plates and walk away with all kinds of ideas, then still get the silhouette wrong.
I was happy that night hanging out with my fam, but I knew something wasn’t right with my costume after I saw the photos. I couldn’t figure out what it was, though. A costuming friend was able to help me troubleshoot over text between the two strolls, and her suggestions are what really took my outfit up a notch in time for Sunday (thanks, Alyssa).
There are countless layers in this outfit and I’m just going to list them so you’ll know what it takes to get the final result, and the source of each item.
I wore something under the corset, but I can’t remember what. My sleeveless linen shift? A tank top? Doesn’t matter.
Sports corset (Gibson Girl Dress – this seller is on Etsy, but I discovered they have just been locked out of their account. I’m going to link to them anyway in hopes it will be sorted out soon. They have good, decently priced historical clothing, and they’re Ukrainian, so it’s a win/win.)
Bum pad (I wore the slighter bigger one I made for my kids to use for 18th c. historical costuming because my Edwardian one ended up not having enough oomph)
Hiking socks
Ruffled petticoat (Also Gibson Girl Dress)
Maxi skirt (I bought it at a local African boutique. I added an elastic waistband to replace the ruching at the top, making it fit me better)
Linen blend black and white striped skirt (I added a facing to the hem using my stiff batik fabric from Rwanda to help keep the hem from drooping). My only complaint is that this skirt didn’t have pockets. I wore a different skirt that did have pockets to the first stroll. I switched for Sunday for historical accuracy, but also because the other skirt was thicker and heavier. With all the other layers, it felt like too much dead weight.
Sleeve plumpers (an pair of old dance tights, which I save for tying up drooping plants. One leg per side, stuffed with recycled batting that came in the box with my refrigerated RA meds. I cut a piece that was 1.5″ thick into about a 4″ x 6″ oval shape. I tied the tights’ legs under my arms to keep them in place and it worked pretty well)
Big sleeve button-down from Target (the brand is Prologue and they no longer have them. Gap and The Loft have also had good options at times.)
Victorian hand belt (delightfully weird and one of those items that drops in batches and you have to purchase it the minute it goes up or they’re sold out.)
Fedora, trimmed with feathers and doves from the craft store, one dove for Ukraine, one for Gaza (A child-sized hat because I have a small head and also it needed to sit high on my head without having hair under it.)
The hat I wore in Saratoga was a wool pillbox I found at Goodwill! It was warm, it covered my ears, but it wasn’t quite right for my chosen time period, so I traded it in for the fedora for Sunday.
Parasol (whenever I caught people taking my photo without my consent, I’d just give them a lens-full of umbrella)
The boots I got for the first Victorian stroll we ever went to. I had nicer, more historically accurate shoes, but the forecast was rain. Instead, I planned to wear my sturdy, waterproof boots since they wouldn’t be visible, but the skirt was too long (my fault, I miscalculated when I chose the length). It would have dragged on the ground without heels. My feet were cold and wet all day and I kept tripping. I discovered when I got home that the soles were coming off the front of both boots, making them completely unseaworthy and extraordinarily uncomfortable for a day in the rain.
With all those layers, I felt like Violet Beauregarde. Besides my feet, I was comfortably warm all day. Feeling like you’ve been stuffed with fluff (or blueberry juice), though? Not great. I sort of blame the sweater. It’s so bulky. It looks OK, but it didn’t feel OK.
Within minutes of getting to the Troy stroll, a costumed man introduced me as his wife, which surprised me so much that I didn’t even react. Not long after that, a woman confused me by asking if I supported a woman’s right to vote. I had to ask her three times to repeat the question, because I had no context for what she was saying. Then I mumbled, “um, yes, of course” and hurried away. My costume is only clothing deep, lady. I didn’t just step out of a time portal.
Most of the friends who were supposed to come had to stay home for various reasons, and so it was just me and one other friend and her son. Despite the small numbers, it was good company.
We got some photos at the Troy City Music Hall in the boxes after one of the free concerts that day. We later found out the box we were sitting in is the very same one featured in the Gilded Age, season two.
Maybe next year, I’ll have time and energy to make a bustle dress? Maybe there will even be peace on earth. Not too sure about either of those, but I will keep striving for both.
