One of the first historical romance novels I ever read was LOVESONG by Valerie
Sherwood, when I was about fifteen. There’s an early scene featuring the heroine
sneaking out of her London boarding school to meet up with her elusive beau at
an 18th century gaming hell (spoiler alert: he’s not the hero and
this doesn’t end well for her). Her friends help her dress in disguise as a
young man, so she can prowl the streets of London at night alone. One provides a
pale green satin men’s suit with silver metallic embroidery, made for her
brother. She wears her own clocked stockings and garters. Another friend styles
the heroine’s platinum blonde hair into something resembling a powdered wig.
It’s been thirty years and I can still remember that dress up scene and still
recall small details of her outfit. I couldn’t recall the heroine’s name, or the
shady beau’s, or the eventual hero’s. But that green satin suit? It stayed with
me forever! That was probably my first indication that my future lay in costume
design. I ended up getting a master’s degree in costume design, and I’ve spent
twenty years in New York working in the industry.
Costume design is about more than designing clothes. It requires, first and
foremost, a thorough understanding of the character, their socio-economic
standing, their education and job, their emotional makeup, and their
relationships to others and the world around them. Sounds a little like writing,
huh? Designing something in another era requires detailed research, and not just
the big moments in history. Costume designers are forever looking for the
obscure, the personal. What did knitting patterns in 19th century
Sweden look like? What did medieval knights wear under that chain mail? What
would a lower class woman in the 19th century wear in the snow?
When I started writing historical romance, I felt right at home. Researching the
introduction of electricity in English country homes wasn’t all that different
than researching the manufacture of Victorian corsets, or how the substructure
of an 1880’s skirt would work. And just like in costume design, it’s very easy
to fall down the rabbit hole of research. That above tidbit about electricity in
English country houses? I researched it for A DUCHESS IN NAME. It took
me two full days to find the answer.
My costume design background means I don’t necessarily have to research the
clothes when I’m writing. The real challenge for me is not getting bogged down
in details. Fashion is certainly one of the fun parts of reading historical
romance, but I suspect even the most avid historical fashionista would be bored
by my page-long descriptions of a ball gown. I try to keep it to a minimum in
writing, just enough to give the flavor of the clothes, but never doubt—in my
mind, I know what that dress looks like, down to the 5/8” covered buttons down
the front and the 1” box pleated taffeta trim on the skirt. Hazard of the day
job, I guess!
Amanda has loved romance since she read that very first Kathleen E. Woodiwiss
novel at fifteen. After a long detour into a career as a costume designer in
theatre, she's found her way back to romance, this time as a writer.
A
native Floridian, Amanda transplanted to New York City many years ago and now
considers Brooklyn home, along with her husband, daughter, two cats, and nowhere
near enough space.
Victoria Carson never expected love. An American heiress and graduate of Lady
Grantham's finishing school, she's been groomed since birth to marry an English
title—the grander the better. So when the man chosen for her, the forbidding
Earl of Dunnley, seems to hate her on sight, she understands that it can't
matter. Love can have no place in this arrangement.
Andrew Hargrave has
little use for his title and even less for his cold, disinterested parents.
Determined to make his own way, he's devoted to his life in Italy working as an
archaeologist. Until the collapse of his family's fortune drags him back to
England to a marriage he never wanted and a woman he doesn't care to
know.
Wild attraction is an unwanted complication for them both, though it
forms the most fragile of bonds. Their marriage of convenience isn't so
intolerable after all—but it may not be enough when the deception that bound
them is finally revealed.
1 comment posted.
I found this a most interesting post. As a former employee of a fabric store, I'd guess my interest in fashion is probably more closely aligned with Ms. Weaver's than the average reader is. I have also worked in a theater costume shop, but definitely NOT at the same level - I just sweed the costumes together.
I always enjoy a well-written description of a well-designed gown in the historical I read, and I would venture to guess that is what I would find in Ms. Weaver's books!
P. S.: Is there any way to weed out troll comments (which isn't a comment at all, just an ad) like the first ones here? They are extremely annoying and distracting.
(Lynn Rettig 5:01pm February 6, 2016)