DRESSING THE PART by H.M. Castor

It all started at a planning meeting for a bookshop event. I can't remember who suggested it, but someone said why didn't I dress up in Tudor costume? Was I willing?

Willing? Try and stop me...

After all, haven't I always been obsessed with the way the Tudors looked? As a child, I drew endless Tudor court ladies, and as an adult I've spent more time than I care to remember staring at their portraits. This one is, I think, my absolute favourite.

In many ways it's not the most beguiling portrait. The subject - Jane Seymour, Henry VIII's third wife - seems, if anything to be enduring the viewer's gaze, staring pointedly into the middle distance as if wishing she (or we) were elsewhere. But oh, how real, how tactilely present she looks - most particularly how tactilely present and detailed is her clothing. The painting was commissioned, of course, because of Jane's rank. However, since the painter was Holbein, this is no two-dimensional image trumpeting only status: this is a living, breathing woman inside clothes whose weight and texture we can almost feel.

When I look at this painting my eye is always caught by the row of dots that runs down the bodice near Jane's left arm (hardly visible perhaps here, but if you find a larger image of the painting you will be able to see them very clearly). These dots are the heads of tiny brass pins... pins inserted by the nimble fingers of her ladies that morning (or whenever she put the gown on). A team of ladies to help the queen dress was not a luxury, but an absolute necessity - she simply could not do it by herself.

The pins are a tantalising clue to the practicalities of Tudor dress. How did an outfit like this work? How did anyone (even with a team of attendants) get in and out of it? How did the hair sit under the hood? How on earth was the bodice made to be so incredibly close fitting? Exactly which bits of edging at the neckline were attached to which layers of under- or over-garments? And, most particularly, what did it feel like to wear?

In writing my book VIII, and now in researching my next one, which is about Henry VIII's daughters Mary and Elizabeth, I have spent a great deal of time poring over books about Tudor clothes in search of answers to these questions. Dress at the Court of King Henry VIII by Maria Hayward I have found to be essential reading, and Janet Arnold's superb Patterns of Fashion series is a goldmine of fascinating information. But another excellent book - The Tudor Tailor by Jane Malcolm-Davies and Ninya Mikhaila - particularly intrigues me because, along with splendid text and detailed reproductions of relevant paintings, carvings and effigies, it contains patterns for those skilled enough to make their own replica costumes and (even more fascinatingly for me, as I'm no seamstress) photographs of people wearing the various layers of these reconstructed outfits, giving the reader an opportunity to see so much more than portraits ever show. Jane and Ninya, along with their colleague Caroline Johnson, are hugely-respected experts in their field - they have undertaken many projects with historic houses and museums, and spent more than a decade working with Hampton Court Palace, training the guides there and making costumes for them to wear.

Even the very best books, however, cannot fully answer one of my questions: what did a Tudor outfit feel like to wear? That's why, when the suggestion came at that meeting that I should dress up for the bookshop event, I jumped at the chance. And began to wonder... what if I could wear, not a theatrical approximation of a Tudor costume, but one of Jane and Ninya's beautiful replicas?

A few weeks later I found myself driving to the home of Jane Malcolm-Davies, having been very kindly invited there to see some items from her impressive collection.

I can't tell you what a treat and privilege it was to meet Jane, whose work I admire so much, and to spend an afternoon talking with her and trying on a costume... which, miraculously, fitted perfectly!

Let me show you its layers:

First there is the smock, the layer

that would have been washed regularly.

Then the petticoat, which (as was common) is red, and which in this case has a bodice attached. The skirt is made from two layers of fabric with a thin layer of stuffing in between, so that it stands out slightly.

The lacing, as I hope you can make out from the photo, is done spiral-wise. It has been deduced from the placement of the lacing holes in surviving garments that this was the technique originally used. This spiral technique has the advantage that it allows the edges of the bodice to overlap if necessary.

After the petticoat, there is a kirtle to put on, in this case cream-coloured and with no bodice attached (i.e. it is just a skirt). This kirtle is the layer that will show in the triangular-shaped gap at the front of the gown's skirt once the full outfit is on.

Next comes the gown itself, which laces up the front like the petticoat.

This costume was used by Hampton Court Palace guides and Jane and Ninya have made some concessions to convenience: the sleeves - which are separate from the gown and come in two sections themselves - are already tied on; the jewels at the neckline are ready-attached; and the 'placard' - the front piece - has been sewn to the gown along one edge. It would originally have been a completely separate piece, which needed to be pinned on (see Jane Seymour's pins again!) along both side-edges.

For extra warmth - or for reasons of modesty - a black velvet partlet can be worn covering the neck. Single laces at the partlet's corners, front and back, are tied together under each arm.

And there are lovely velvet shoes too!

Again for convenience, the headdress has been made in one piece - originally it would have consisted of a linen coif, over which the separate pieces of the hood and veil would have been pinned, with the jewelled trim also pinned on separately.

So here I am in the full kit... feeling somewhat over-warm on a sunny day! I also feel very 'held' by the clothes, and I have no choice but to stand and move in stately fashion. My arms naturally take up the position of Jane Seymour's in the painting. The shape of the sleeves leads to this - it feels much more comfortable than letting my arms hang by my sides.

When I wore the costume for several hours I discovered just how tiring it is to have such a weight of fabric dragging behind you as you move (all those pleats at the back waist!). Hats off to the Hampton Court guides who manage full days. I also found that the hood restricted my hearing (a detail mentioned by Hilary Mantel in Wolf Hall - such an interesting point).

I bought the costume from Jane that day (it fitted me, for goodness' sake; how could I walk away?!), and the obvious question now is: when on earth will I wear it, other than at the book event for which that planning meeting was held?

The answer is that I will take every chance I get! In July I wore it on a visit to a school here in Bristol (hello, Westbury Park Primary School!) when I talked to Year 3 pupils about Henry VIII. Realising that I wouldn't be able to put it on alone in the staff loo, but that I couldn't drive in the full outfit either (it was turning round to reverse park that had me worried - but yes, there was the looking weird/mad consideration too), I hit upon the plan of arriving in the first two layers (with cloak thrown over the top) and then asking for volunteers to help me into kirtle and gown. It worked very well!

Jane Malcolm-Davies told me she was pleased I would be able to put this costume to educational use. Indeed, I would like to wear it on more school visits. I imagine, though, that it might go down better in junior schools than senior schools - might teenagers be liable just to laugh at this eccentric writer, sweeping into their school in full Tudor costume? I would be interested to know what you think!

I very much recommend an article by Jane Malcolm-Davies, Caroline Johnson & Ninya Mikhaila in 'Costume' (the journal of The Costume Society), Vol. 42 (2008) entitled: '"And her black satin gown must be new-bodied": the twenty-first-century body in pursuit of the Holbein look'. It discusses details of their continuing research into the methods used to stiffen the bodices of Tudor gowns.

I shall be wearing my costume for signing copies of VIII at Waterstone's in Bath on October 8th and at Waterstone's in The Galleries, Bristol on October 29th. Do please come along if you can - I am happy to be peered at, if anyone wants to see the costume in more detail!

H.M. Castor's website is here.

The Tudor Tailor's website is here.