Never Say Never

Several years ago, the gospel of Civil War reenacting was revised to declare that nineteenth-century women did not--D.I.D. N.O.T.--wear darted cotton dresses.

The research was of great depth, but not great breadth. In other words, the researcher studied many extant original garments, did a statistical analysis of fabric and construction, and issued her decree. Impressive research, but seriously flawed in that a cotton dress would likely get picked apart and remade into quilts or rags or whatnot, whereas a wool or silk dress might be more likely to survive intact.

Arguments to that effect were rebuffed entirely or countered with claims that a darted cotton dress, if such a thing existed, was an oddity, a complete aberration.

The gospel became so ingrained that authenticity standards for many events now reflect the no-cotton-darted-bodice rule without explanation, context, or background. It's as if the debate never even existed.

I am ever suspicious of absolutes.

Then, I ran across this image in researching something completely different, read it, and literally began jumping up and down and yelling. It was a eureka moment, for sure.

I've scanned at a fairly high resolution, so click to embiggen.

The pattern for a plain dress body, from the February 1856 Peterson's, has the following exact wording:

• "For a cotton dress, the ordinary skirt or bishop sleeve with a band a couple of inches wide, is a fitting accompaniment for this body."

Notice it does not say, "If for some freakish reason, you eccentric wackjob, you decide to make this perfectly lovely bodice out of cotton, in spite of the fact that is has not two, not four, but six darts, don't blame us if 150+ years from now you are denied entry to a so-called authentic event."

Never say never.