The Dupuy Mestreau Museum in the city of Saintes, France is advertised as a โcabinet of curiositiesโ with about 3,000 artifacts showcasing the cultural history of Saintes. This is the fourth and final in my series highlighting some of my favorite objects here.
Until my visit to this museum, I had not had an opportunity to get up close and personal to pieces from this period in menswear. All of these pieces were laid or hung flat in display cases, so I have rotated the orientation on some of them to better show them as they would have presented on a human form.
There were three waistcoats in this collection. The case at lower right also included shoe buckles and some other items I could not identify.


Here are additional detail shots of the waistcoat in the previous photo. I have never seen one that used fringe / frayed edges as a decorative element.


This next coat and waistcoat combo was one of the most impressive examples of embroidery I have seen outside of Qing Dynasty Chinese court robes.




Lastly, and perhaps from a different time period, is this one, perhaps belonging to a gentleman farmer. It looked like it might have been made from something like denim. I was quite taken by the side pleating and the cuff treatment.

This museum was extensive, displaying over 3,000 artifacts. I also took photos of ceramics and furniture, and plan to post selected items to Instagram over the next few weeks.
The Skirts
I found a pair of really great imitation silk curtains that had been donated to the textile loft at the Powerhouse. I took them home and put them through my washer/dryer to make sure they would hold up to wearing. I was thrilled to pull them out and find both the hems and cotton lining intact, so all I needed to do was cut them to length and gather the waist onto a cord. I overlaid that skirt with an overskirt from my steampunk wardrobe, made from vinyl window screening and edged with black fringe I rescued from a dumpster a decade ago. Over that I overlaid a beaded shawl I had been recently gifted. The window screen overskirt would be the base for the nightshades, bleeding hearts and silk foliage.



The Bustle
To create a garden-inspired lobster-tail bustle, I made a panel from heavily stiffened linen which would form the base for all the materials I had collected from the Powerhouse. I added some heavy ivy vines that I stripped all but the larges leaves from, and used them to form a cage that would be filled with wads of black netting, avocado bags that simulated lichens, butterflies and amanita muscaria.



The arrival of red polka-dot balloons at the Powerhouse one evening spurred me to add the classic poison mushrooms to the mix. I made the larger amanita muscaria from half globes, the smaller ones from plastic balls that were soft enough to cut in half with scissors. Foam stems wound with white fuzzy yarn allowed me to sew the mushrooms into the bustle. I used black yarn to tie things into the black netting and left the ends exposed because they resembled worms. Because what’s a garden without worms?



All materials in the bustle are second hand, courtesy of the Powerhouse, which should be called a Treasure House. Next step – the jacket…

The Dupuy Mestreau Museum in the city of Saintes, France is advertised as a โcabinet of curiositiesโ with about 3,000 artifacts showcasing the cultural history of Saintes. This is the third in my series highlighting some of my favorite objects here.
There was a remarkable display of women’s headwear dating to the 18th-19th centuries. These ‘ballons’ consisted of a ‘coiffe grisette’ of quilted chintz, with a separate lace overlay that was secured to the coiffe with pins. They dated to 1830-70 and were worn for weddings and baptisms. Their shape and construction was region-specific.




There were more sedate lace bonnets as well. I thought the pleating was extraordinary.


Here’s a map I found online, showing the different styles and which regions they come from:

One headdress that I thought was made from wood was a ‘ballet’ made from thin sheets of cardboard or thick paper that were pleated around a brass form. Since they were modeled on ‘aged’ head forms, I took that to mean that they were typically worn by more matronly women. They would also have been warmer and not as subject to the whims of rain and wind. Again, the pleating on this piece was remarkable.



There were a few men’s hat scattered throughout this floor, most in poor condition and set on top of armoires and bookcases so it was difficult to see them in any detail.



And then there was this one, of such a size that I wondered if it was worn by the same man who owned the ginormous boot I had posed next to in my “Shoes” post.

As some of you may know, I became a volunteer for the Fremont Arts Council in May of last year, and more recently took on the lead volunteer position as manager of the Powerhouse, where much of the art is made for our annual events.
One of those annual events is our fundraising gala in March. This year’s theme is “Botanical Bacchanal: A Garden of Mirthly Delights.” If you buy a ticket, you will enter a hall through a gigantic beehive and enter a series of gardens both majestic and mystical, and enjoy drinks, dinner and an auction. But you’ll have to buy a ticket to see these marvels…
I was enlisted to make one of the fashion pieces to be modeled at this show. In keeping with the chosen color palette of vibrant jewel tones and the theme of oversized flowers, I designed a Victorian-inspired ensemble using pieces from my personal collection and overlaying them with flowers and bugs of a poisonous variety. I am calling the ensemble “A Dangerous Beauty.”
My first step was to make a survey of poisonous flowers that might have been found in a Victorian specimen garden, and then narrowing the field to those I thought I could replicate easily from textiles. I settled on Bleeding Hearts, Nightshades, a Poinsettia, and Water Hemlock. I also discovered that Monarch Butterflies are on the poisonous insect list, as are Blister Beetles, whose secretions had been used from the 18th century as an aphrodisiac but which could also be lethal. I also added Amanita muscaria for the bustle after materials arrived at the Powerhouse that were too hard to resist…
I crafted Bleeding Hearts from red brocade scraps with bead and lace accents. After making a single leaf from a fused brocade, I opted to use commercial silk foliage to save time. The ferns are silk fronds, stripped from their central wires and stitched to the overskirt.


Nightshades were unexpectedly complex and took me a couple of tries. The top row of photos (below) are the real models for the textile versions shown in the second row. I cut the petals from a woven shawl that I fused to a wool backing to give it enough tensile strength to support a center wire. For the stamens, I sewed two pieces of lace together, stuffed them with Q-Tips and painted them with latex paint before setting them into a circle of fake pearls. I found berries at the Powerhouse that were the right shape and size, which I wrapped with red silk to preserve the look of everything being made from textile. I trimmed the silk ivy leaves into a more appropriate shape for a nightshade.




Both the bleeding hearts and the nightshades were wired into sprays and covered with florist tape, to make it faster to attach them to the overskirt.
For the jacket, I found a single velvety Poinsettia blossom that I tore apart and mounted the petals onto the last of my red brocades. Wild poinsettias have smooth edges rather than the notched ones of our domestic varieties. I ran a braid down the center of each petal for texture and to hide the stitch line, and a bit of red lace to the tip just for fun. I replaced the ghastly plastic center with a cluster of yellow glass beads.


The last flower I constructed for the jacket was a Water Hemlock. Again, I found small white wildflowers at the Powerhouse that I stripped from their plastic stems, and mounted onto wires with bead centers. After a coffee bath failed to mute the stark white, I took a green sharpie and ran a line down the center of each petal to try to tone them down. It wasn’t quite as tedious as it sounds…


I was fortunate to have friends who donated Monarch Butterflies made from feathers. I will cover the construction of the Amanita Muscaria in the blog devoted to the making of the skirts and the bustle.


The Dupuy Mestreau Museum in the city of Saintes, France is advertised as a โcabinet of curiositiesโ with about 3,000 artifacts showcasing the cultural history of Saintes. This is the second in my series highlighting some of my favorite objects here.
Possibly the most significant footwear in the collection is this pair of shoes said to be worn by King Louis XVI “while he was prisoner in the Temple.” The placard reads: “…great-grandfather Jacques-Alexandre Dubois de Saint Mande, Knight of Saint Louis, Lt. Col of Cavalry, Commissioner of the Nobility of the Senehaussee of Saint Jean d’Angely in 1789, received these slippers from the hands of Clery, Valet de Chambre du Roi 1792. This was passed down from father to son, by oral tradition, I hear it from the mouth of my maternal grandfather Guillaume Alexandre Dubois de Saint Made. I can therefore with complete certainty confirm the authenticity of this precious relic.” Signed, Garnaud on July 9, 1912.

There was a -really big- and single, unidentified boot in the hallway.

Here is a mismatched pair of ring pattens which date to 1720, and the tiniest wooden clogs I have ever seen, about 5″ long.


A pair of (I think) 19th century sabots, and a pair of men’s brocade slippers from (I think) the same time period, that complimented the coat that was also in that display case.


There were also stockings – the pair at left were worn by a man, those at right by a woman, date and origin unknown, though the men’s stockings were in a display case with an 18th century coat and waistcoat.


Curiously, I did not see anything that I could identify as garters…
My second art jacket was another one of those “years languishing on the project shelf” while I decided what form a beloved thrift store skirt needed to take in its second life. I love this skirt and bought it more for its embroidery than its fit, and subsequently only wore it a few times. So, fittingly, it now becomes a jacket.

I cut the embroideries out, and at first had just planned to mount them to a new garment ‘as is’. But what’s the fun in that? So I combed through my beads and trims, and started adding another layer of detail.


For the jacket, I had remnants of a perfect shade of red wool, and spent some time piecing those together to make enough yardage for the body. But there wasn’t enough for the full jacket, so the sleeves decided they would be black.
I fused the appliques to the wool in order to seal the cut edges, and to keep them in place while I added the additional detail. But I found that the appliques were stiff and affected the comfort and fit. I took a gamble and put the jacket into a hot dryer, which softened the fusing, and didn’t wreck the embroidery, and allowed the jacket to hang properly. Whew!

This jacket is cut from the same pattern as my previous one – long and dovetailed in front and short box-cut in back. My miscalculation on this jacket was the pockets, which interfered with the embroideries. So I moved the pockets to the inside, after a night of much cursing and coercing of a cantankerous Egyptian cotton lining. I also added trim to that free hanging lining, and a fun applique to the center back – little couture touches that will make the jacket look nice on a hangar.

I completed this jacket by my November 8 deadline after after about five weeks of working on it. My submission has been accepted to the Gallery section of the RAGS Wearable Art Sale and Show, March 8-10, 2024 in Fife, Washington. Participating artists donate 33% of their proceeds to support the YWCA’s mission of ending domestic violence in Pierce County, Washington.



The Dupuy Mestreau Museum in the city of Saintes, France is housed in the Monconseil Hotel, built in 1738. The museum is advertised as a โcabinet of curiositiesโ with about 3,000 artifacts showcasing the cultural history of Saintes. The collector was Cecile Guinot de Monconseil, wife of Etienne, Marquise de Monconseil who was the first owner of the hotel. Cecile set out to collect items that would trace the history of Saintes, though very few items have a provenance or a description attached to them. Objects range from furniture and dishes, to clothing, shoes, jewelry, and accessories.
There were fans and little straw cases:


There were parasols. The shoe at the bottom of the first photo is entirely beaded, and I was surprised to see that this parasol was lined, which encased the stretchers and ribs.


Another parasol had what looked like a double-headed ferrule, and may have had a matching shawl folded up nearby. The one at lower right had a collapsible handle and had bead detailing at the top.


There were combs and coronets.

Silver clasps, goggles and spectacles:




And an entire case of buttons, some hand painted, one with sequin detail. I could not get decent photos of the majority of them:



Two sewing kits, the larger one looks like a beading kit:


A collection of things one might have carried in one’s purse or pocket:

And a case of playing cards, some dating back to the 17th century, as well as some of the printing blocks used to make the.





There is a lot to see at this little museum. Had I arrived earlier, I probably would have spent half the day here…
For my first art coat, I decided to do an adaptation of the Eagle of St. John from the Book of Kells. I had wanted to tackle this design for as long as I can remember – first onto a banner, and then onto a cushion. But after my favorite thrift store jacket started wearing out faster than I could patch it, I decided that the Maker needed New Clothes.
I simplified the bird by taking out about half the detail from the original and removing the crosses from the halo. I then disassembled the template to extend the wingspan. For the color scheme, I chose red, gold, purple and blue for the eagle, using up several remnants I had in my workroom. I braided a variety of soutache and cords because I wanted the wings to have chevroning to simulate feathers. I like to add texture to my pieces wherever I can.



I worked this design on a piece of waste linen. I was surprised at how quickly I made progress. The wings came out too spindly, so I added another set of braids to bring it closer to the proportions of the original. It was also a great way to use up some of my favorite laces and trims that I only had a few inches of. I used a button from my collection for the crown in the halo, ad a bezeled glass jewel for the eye. Brass Fleur-de-lis studs tufted the chest in a nod to my upcoming trip to France in a few weeks.



I ended up adding lace tips to the wings to resolve a technical issue with my applique. My first attempt with the legs and feet was all wrong – they were out of proportion and a bit cartoon-like. One of my artist friends pointed out that the legs were actually backwards, and made a suggestion that corrected that issue. I added a key charm because I felt like the eagle should be carrying something.
The jacket itself was patterned after that favorite thrift store find that I mentioned at the top of this article – rectangular construction with dropped 3/4 length sleeves. I was a little concerned about my choice of olive drab for the body of this jacket, but I have learned to not question my initial instincts since that color made the applique work really pop.
I cut the collar and neck facing from black striped raw silk. Because the jacket is unlined, the seams are bound in red lace and tapes. The jacket is intentionally shorter in the back because I don’t like to sit on my coattails on planes and trains. It also mimics the pattern of my first shirtwaist, which is also longer in front than it is in back and is complimentary to my current body shape.
One of my favorite all-time thrift store finds was a Nehru jacket with lace detailing on the inside. It’s a great couture detail that I copied here. I like a little flash of color at the hems of my jackets and skirts, so this purple lace binds the hem of the jacket on the inside. I decided to go with a simple braid on the cuff of the sleeve rather than a more ornate passementerie pattern I had originally planned. The pockets are lined in red silk and use the same lace as the wing detail on the eagle. The front facings are in a red lozenge-patterned silk.



By the time I finished this jacket, I was still tying up my travel plans and had not yet booked my hotels for my trip to France, but at least I would be the best dressed homeless tourist in Carcassonne…

As I leaned away from hatmaking at the end of 2022, I received a request for a tea cozy. But the request wasn’t for ‘just any tea cozy”… T.N. wanted a handcrafted cozy to compliment her CalamityWare.
So my next commission began. My first step was to study this specific pattern and draw elements from it. I wanted to create a piece that was inspired by, rather than a copy of, the work of Don Moyer (the creator of CalamityWare). I turned to my Chinese art reference library, where I discovered that many of the elements in the “Things Could Be Worse” series were taken from those found in classical Chinese gardens. Typically, a pagoda, a bridge, a willow tree and other plants which were stylized for both the original CalamityWare and the project it inspired.

The first panel that I designed featured a pagoda that sits on the shore of a lotus pond in Hebei province. I chose this pagoda because it would allow me to do some dimensional applique. I patterned the bridge after the Jade Girdle Bridge on Kumming Lake near Beijing. I am compelled to sneak in historical references into nearly everything I do…
Granada Shopcat assisted with the storyboards that I used to position the major elements. Storyboarding was also helpful in making the landscape continuous around the entire cozy.

The work begins. The roof of this pagoda was a blue herringbone wool, though I was only able to get the lower center roof panel to ‘stick out’ dimensionally from the background material. The fence is two layers of wool that I fused together and accordion pleated to achieve the dimension you see here. Metal studs form the detail on the fence panels.


The foo-dog and the carp are my own additions. The figure on the bridge is a Mandarin in robe and winged scholar’s hat, but he came out looking more like a beagle, so I added a snout. Each flying monkey is unique in detailing and wearing a red fez because I ran out of shades of blue.


You can see the texture of the embroidery here, as the second panel hangs in my window:

The first two panels are complete.

The next two panels would be slightly less detailed versions of the first two. A Mandarin Duck points towards a swarm of flying monkeys depicted on the other side of the cozy. This little character was particularly fun, because I found a square sequin to use as his mandarin patch. And of course, he’s wearing a Lao Hat.


I now realize I have made a critical miscalculation in my design, and find that the fourth panel will make a cozy big enough to house a Dutch Oven. So I reconfigure the embroidery to make the scene flow over three panels instead of four, and line the three completed panels with insulated grocery delivery bags. I turn to designing the pagoda roof. The paper prototype only took me 3 tries, which was pretty good.


I cut the roof from a yoga mat because it simulated the texture of tile work. T.N. had requested that I include Chinese blue porcelain beads for detailing, but I didn’t factor in the weight of the beads along the roof ridges, which crushed the body of the cozy. So I built little wire rafters that extend to all the way to the base of the cozy (which is also wired to keep the round shape). My theory was that it would support the roof and keep the embroidered panels from buckling. I also discover that the wired ridges contorted the roof into a somewhat Dr. Seuss-like attitude. So I just went with it.

At this point, I received a gift in the mail from T.N. – my very own set of CalamityWare bowls! Shown here is the completed tea cozy with its handle made from found objects, and bells and beads suspended from the roof rafters. The collection made for a fun photo shoot.

I always photograph my work before I ship it. After over an hour of looking for the gizmo I had purchased to secure my smartphone to my tripod, I gave up and took these shots on my regular camera. I also took a video but it is sideways so I won’t post that unless I can figure out how to correct the orientation. The finished cozy was of a size that required me to build a box to ship it in. But ultimately this one-of-a-kind piece went out, months later, to a very happy and patient customer.






During the busiest of times, it’s good to take a step back, look back, pause and reflect, before turning one’s attentions to what lies ahead.
I’m sure I’m not alone in saying that 2023 has been a year of extraordinary events. Mine have included traveling through France, and moving from hatmaking into other textile arts. I am transitioning from a full time office management job, down to part time as I ease into full retirement by 2025. I continue to write for Mainly Museums. Next year is already mapped out with projects, including relaunching my product line and writing two books – one recounting my career as a hatmaker, and the other in tracing my family history through the women’s side. I now have a volunteer gig as the manager of the Powerhouse – the art heart of the Fremont Arts Council – where I volunteer two nights a week and Second Sundays. Life is a balancing act, especially when you change course, learning curves and all…
Here’s a taste of some of the articles I plan to publish here in the coming months. You can also follow my progress in more detail on Facebook and Instagram.
I hope all of you have a joyous winter celebratory season and a brilliant New Year!






