How I Make A Camica (Shift)

The shift (camica in Italian) is the basic undergarment for women of all classes and all styles of dress across western Europe from the early middle ages through the eighteenth century. While it goes by different names at different times and in different places, and the style does vary a bit, especially in later centuries, this is a good basic square necked shift pattern that will work for just about any Italian Renaissance outfit. While upper class camice were frequently embellished, and you can certainly do so to yours, a simple one will never look out of place with any Italian ensemble. While the Italian style isn't exactly the same as what is seen in Northern Europe in the 16th century, you could certainly get away with using this with English or German garb in a pinch. Just keep in mind that the Italian style of shift is much more voluminous, so if you need this to work with clothes from other regions, consider reducing the volume of fabric used, particularly in the body.

The pattern is extremely simple; it's just rectangles.  The linen I use is 58 inches wide, which is a lot wider than 16th century fabrics.  Since that's close to double a period loom width, I use one full fabric width total for the front and back (so a half width for the front and the other half width for the back).  Since I'm very petite, I could probably get away with a bit less if I was really trying to conserve fabric, but just using the full width makes cutting very simple, so that's what I do.  So the front and back pieces are one full fabric width by the desired length, which for me is just a little below the knee, though a lot of people prefer theirs longer.  The side panels are the same length by one quarter fabric width, and the sleeves are a quarter width by 6-12 inches longer than your arm, depending on how voluminous you want them to be.  One quarter width makes for a narrower sleeve; if you want yours more voluminous, use more fabric!  The underarm gussets are approximately 10x10 inch squares, which I cut out of the fabric left over from the difference between the sleeve and side panel lengths.  Cuffs and neck band are optional, depending on your style.

I like to use sheer linen,
but there are plenty of 
other fabric choices 
that work just as well.

I use about 2.5 yards of 58 inch wide fabric to make a camica, but if you're tall or want a really long one, you will probably need more.  I prefer a very light weight linen, because it can have a lot of volume without adding a lot of bulk.  Linen is the most correct period material, though cotton and linen/cotton blends were available in Italy and Spain in the 15th and 16th centuries.  Some reenactors use sheer silks, but there's little evidence for this in period.  The whole point of the camcia is to protect the not-very-washable silk and wool outer clothes from sweat and body oils, so it only makes sense to use an easily washable fabric.  While both cotton and linen are easy to wash, I prefer linen because I think it breathes better, and it also wicks moisture away from the body, rather than absorbing it like cotton, making it the most comfortable in hot weather.  The example garment in the pictures is a fine, sheer weight linen, though handkerchief linen is great, too.

I find flat felled seams
to be the most comfortable
finishing method for 
undergarments.

Start by sewing the sleeves together and inserting the gussets.  To do this, first line up one edge of a gusset with the top end of what will be the sleeve seam.  Sew them together right sides together.  Then sew the sleeve into a tube, stitching the adjacent side of the gusset to the other sleeve edge.  Once that's done, just stitch all the body pieces together.  I like to flat fell the seams on my camice, but French seams are also correct for the period.  Once that's done, finish the bottom edge with a narrow rolled hem (which is really easy to do on fine linen!).  Finish the sleeves either my hemming or by gathering them to narrow cuffs, and then gather (or smock, or whatever you want) your neckline to the desired width, which should at least peek out the top edge of your dress bodice.  I prefer to add a narrow neck band because it's easy and lies flat under my partlet, but it's really up to you.  Smocked and ruffled examples can be found in portraiture from the period.  Finally, if you have cuffed sleeves, add your fastenings.  I used hooks and eyes, but buttons and ties are also period.  

Adding the cuffs

And that's all there is to it; this is a really easy garment to make!  Like I said, this is a really simple garment, though the upper classes often wore embellished camice.  Blackwork, redwork, or polychrome embroidery all appear in art from the mid 16th century in Italy, as does lace insertion.  Decorative smocking is a pretty common and very attractive style of neckline finish for many different classes.  It's really up to you how much or how little embellishment you want on your garment.  Keep in mind, however, that while a simple camica looks good with a very fine court gown, a highly decorated one doesn't really work as well with working class garments.  One of the most important keys to putting together great historical costumes is remembering who you intend to portray and making sure all the pieces of the outfit fit that persona!

Corded Petticoat

Researching what went under the gowns of the 16th century is always a challenge.  It's rarely depicted in art- people usually dressed up for their portraits!- and it's even rarer for an actual garment to have survived this long.  So figuring out how to achieve the silhouette seen in 16th century Italian paintings has been a project in experimental archaeology.  What we see in Italian paintings is very decidedly not the cone shaped profile of the Spanish farthingale popular in both Spain and England in the middle of the 16th century, but Italian skirts have far too much volume to be held up by a simple petticoat.  This means the solution must be something that lends more support than just an underskirt, but not as much as the reed hoops of a farthingale, but there is very little documentation for this sort of thing available.  There is evidence for underskirts stiffened with rope (mainly from Spain), and Spanish style did influence Italy quite a bit in the mid to late 16th century, so perhaps this is the answer?

Titian, circa 1560

Queen Elizabeth I of England, painted 1567.

Note the difference in the profile of the skirts above.  The one on the left is an Italian example, and the one on the right is English.  There is clearly something very different going on under those skirts, but both are just as clearly supported by something.  The right hand portrait is Elizabeth I, almost certainly wearing the Spanish farthingale that had been popular in England for decades before this was painted.  It's a sharp, conical line.  The Italian example on the left is clearly wearing at least a stiffened petticoat, as a regular underskirt won't hold the dress skirt out that well, but there's no way of knowing what it's stiffened with. 

The little evidence that is available indicates that skirt hems may have been stiffened, that underskirts were often worn, and that hemp cord was the main material used to stiffen other garments, like dress bodices, before whalebone became available late in the century.  Put together, this makes the existence of corded petticoats possible, and perhaps even probable.  The other obvious answer is that the outer skirt itself was stiffened with perhaps felt or some other sturdy fabric, but surely a stiffened petticoat is just as likely?  Since it's a lot less work to cord one petticoat than to stiffen the hem of every dress I make, I decided to make one and see if it worked.

I used what probably isn't the most likely material for a garment like this in period: a heavyweight red linen.  I suspect wool would have been a much more common fiber for garments like this in period, as most of the petticoats documented were woolen (or silk for the upper classes), though farthingales were sometimes made of linen.  The red color is accurate, though; red petticoats were popular throughout the 16th century.  And the heavyweight linen will hopefully be stiff enough to support skirts without adding too much warmth.  I am planning on wearing this in the summer in a warm climate, after all!

My fabric is 58" wide, so I cut out 2 panels, selvedge to selvedge, about 5 inches longer than I want the finished skirt to be plus seam allowances.  The front panel is curved at the center top, since I plan to point this petticoat to my bodies.  This will accommodate the pointed bodice of my bodies and minimize the added bulk at the waist.  I stitched up and flat felled the side seams, just like I would on any unlined skirt.

Measuring my cartridge pleats

I then added a 4 inch wide strip of cotton duck canvas to the inside of the top edge of the skirt to try to help it puff out at the top a little better.  I cut and hemmed a slit in the center front of the skirt to help make getting dressed easier.  Then I made up the waistband, using an outer layer of the red linen and an inner one of the cotton canvas.  I shaped it slightly like I had the skirt to help minimize bulk at the waist.  I simply stitched three sides, flipped it the right way out, folded raw edges in, and whip stitched.  I then cartridge pleated the skirt to the waistband, added eyelets in the front of the waistband, and tried the petticoat on.  I found that the back was a little too long, so I trimmed it a bit and then started cording.

Definitely not historical, but
just as stiff as the jute rope
and slightly lighter.

I used some cotton piping filler cord for the bottom edge.  This is definitely not historical, but it's not too far off from the hemp rope used in period, and it seems a little stiffer.  I simply rolled a length into the hem and stitched as usual for the first row.  Then I tucked a second row of the cord into the skirt right up against the first one and whip stitched the folded edges together to create the second row.  I stitched the chanel with the cord to the outside of the skirt to hold it flat.  I then repeated this process about an inch higher for the third row.

At this point, I wanted to see if everything was working properly and whether the skirt needed to be any shorter, so I tried it on.  I found that I did need an additional row of cording to make the petticoat short enough not to show under my dresses, but it was behaving pretty much exactly the way I wanted it to.  Exciting!  I did notice that the threads holding the cartridge pleats in place were causing some weird gapping at the front opening, so I removed them from the first couple of pleats, which fixed the problem.  I also added a fourth row of cording about 2 inches above the third one.

Too long!  Don't mind the stray shoe...

I then tried the petticoat on again with my bodies, and put a dress over it to see if the length was right.  I found that it is now short enough not to show under my green dress, which is a little on the short side, so it won't be a problem under longer gowns.  The canvas interfacing at the top edge of the petticoat supported the skirt of the dress well, too, and I get even more volume with a small roll to hold the canvas piece in place.  The silhouette looks about like what I see in mid-16th century Italy, so success!

Look at all the poof!  So much better!

Green dress without the petticoat.

I continued doing research while I was in the midst of working on this project, and I came across a couple of things I might decide to do differently next time.  First, I used rectangular panels for the skirt instead of making a triangular skirt as would have been more likely in period.  I like the volume I have at the top of the skirt from the cartridge pleats, however, so I'm ok with my choice there.  Perhaps a cartridge pleated skirt over the corded petticoat would be more accurate, though?  I'll find out if this creates problems when I make the fancy underskirt that's going to cover this one, though.  Second, apparently using strips of decorative fabric to cover the rope, rather than sewing chanels for it, was common.  I suspect that would be less work, too.  If there's a next time, I'll do it that way.  Finally, I'd just use the jute rope I used for the third and fourth "hoops" all the way around next time.  I don't see any significant difference between it and the piping cord, and it's a little cheaper.

Over all, though, I'm very pleased with how this turned out.  It's functional and kind of cute, and while it's not perfect from a historical perspective, I think it will do exactly what I want it to do in terms of getting the historical silhouette.  I now have the proper foundation pieces to put under some fancier Italian gowns.  Exciting!