In the spring of 2025, I started a new hemd for my husband. I opted for a shirred collar with a counted-thread design. This technique is also known as Italian Shirring or Sardinian puntu vanu; it is a pleating technique where pleats are made using multiple rows of alternating lengths and overlap of gathering thread when pulled to create a complex pattern in the fabric. I have no idea what it would have been called in 16th-century German lands.
Although there are no extant 16th-century German examples of a complete hemd collar with counted thread shirring, there is evidence in German portraiture and archaeological finds of shirring from the 16th century (Rast-Eicher & Tidow, 2011). Additionally, style in southern German regions of the Holy Roman Empire in the early 1500s was influenced by Northern Italian styles (Boucher & Deslandres, 1996). Therefore, it makes sense to see similar fashion trends.
In this post, I will start with the hemd and then go over the leibrock rework. If you want to skip to the leibrock, scroll to the bottom. I call the black skirted doublet a leibrock after doing some translation of Textiler Hausrat: Kleidung und Haustextilien in Nürnberg von 1500 – 1650 (Zander-Seidel, 1990) and discussing nomenclature with Marion McNealy, AKA Curious Frau (I’m subscribed to her Patreon, 100% do recommend). Here is a Pinterest board of some of my inspiration images.
Getting Started with the Hemd
The most complex and novel portion of this mannshemd construction was the puntu vanu collar. I went with a pattern straight out of Luoghi e Volti del Punto Filza. Monserrato: Laboratorio – Il Tempo e lo Spazio (Lecca, 2010). I needed to learn the pattern. I start with a sample swatch. This not only serves as practice, but it also helps determine the fabric’s shrinkage to establish the final pattern measurements. I used a black cotton DMC twist embroidery thread this time, instead of silk (I don’t have any plans to enter this into any SCA A&S competitions). In the 16th-century German Lands, linen fabric and thread made from silk, wool, or linen were used (see descriptions of clothing lists (Zander-Seidel, 1990) and archeological finds (Fingerlin, 2001) (Rast-Eicher & Tidow, 2011). Linen or Leinwat is a tabby weave commonly used in the clothing of the 16th century (Barich & McNealy, 2015).
The swatch indicated the shrinkage would be 6.12 times. My husband’s collar measurement is 18 inches, so I knew I would need at least 110 inches to pleat down.
I went with a 4.0 oz tabby weave linen I had on hand. I had several lengths from the same order on hand, and I was working on a tight linen budget. I started off by using some natural arrowroot starch. I dipped it, dried it, and pressed it before cutting. For more info on my starching techniques, check out my starching article.
The design is similar to other hemden I have made, using the same rectangular pattern cut. I decided to go with a full side slit collar opening, not in a seam. The side slit collar opening does show up in paintings, and Jenny Tiramani used a similar pattern in the Matthäus Schwarz outfit they recreated in The First Book of Fashion (Rublack, Hayward, & Tiramani, 2015).
This style is close to “peasant sleeves” or “raglan sleeves” (Koester & Bryant, 1991). However, unlike a modern “raglan sleeve”, there is no angle in the sleeve and body seam. Instead, the long side of the rectangular sleeves is attached to the side of the rectangular body. The extant example of the boy’s shirt from The First Book of Fashion is cut in this manner (Rublack, Hayward, & Tiramani, 2015). Additionally, a fragment of a sleeve from the Mülburg-Ensemble finds a sleeve attached to the collar and refers to it as a “raglan sleeve” when translated (Rast-Eicher & Tidow, 2011).
I initially cut four rectangles and figured I’d sort out the side gussets and any needed gores after the shirring was completed.
The front and back rectangle panels were 28 inches wide by 43 inches long, and the sleeve rectangle panels were 29 inches wide by 43 inches long. I left about 1/2 inch seam allowance on the edges. I left extra length in the body rectangle panels with the idea that I would adjust it later. On the left sleeve, I added a slit midway across by pulling a thread at the center. About 10 inches down, and cut straight along it. This would serve as the side opening of the shirt. Then, I hand-sewed the top 4 inches of each seam together using a backstitch with waxed linen thread. I also finished the collar and cuff hems using a rolled hem allowance of 1/3 inch and finished the edge. Now I switched to the counted thread shirring.
Counted Thread Shirring, aka Puntu Vanu
I jumped right into the collar shirring. I pre-rolled up 25 lengths of 120 inches of thread on individual cardboard thread holders and got started. I posted a couple of videos of the process.
I made a mistake by not creating a stitch guide on the fabric, which resulted in some drift in the width of the collar due to embroidering such a wide length of fabric. Once I completed the collar shirring, I pulled the strings one by one to collapse the design (see Instagram videos for the process).
I then went on to embroider the cuffs. With the cuffs, I always have to adjust the embroidery section, since the fabric will not be quite enough to go fully around the wrist once pleated. To adjust the sleeve circumference, accounting for the pleats and a closure, I left about a 1-inch lead on each edge to make up the difference. Then I stitched out a 12-string chevron counted-thread shirred pattern, approximately 3/4 inch wide. I apparently didn’t take any good pictures of the chevron pattern before I pulled the thread.
Finishing the Cuffs and Collar
Once I collapsed the puntu vanu pattern to the desired length in the collar and cuffs. I cut the threads shorter and pulled each thread to the inside of the collar at each end. I then secured the threads by taking several rows of thread and knotting them about 5 times to each other, then I cross-knotted each set. Then I braided the remaining strands on each side into three simple three-strand braids. Using a whip stitch on the wrong side of the collar, I carefully stitched each braid to several pleats to secure the fabric on the inside of the pleat. I clipped off the excess.
I also finger-pressed the edges of the slit openings on the collar and cuffs. For the collar, I double-folded it about 1/4 inch over, leaving no border on the right side, and hemmed it down, along with the slit opening. I left a wider edge with the cuffs and finished the opening slit. Then, I added a backing linen band to the collar and cuffs using linen thread, securing the stitch through two or three pleat edges (not piercing through to the front of the embroidery).
Next, I finished off the bottom of the collar slit with a blanket stitch, then stitched the edge of the blanket stitch together, creating a decorative 1.25-inch finish to the slit. I also added four hooks and eyes to the collar opening, two large on the collar and two small along the slits. This helps with fitting and finalizing the shirt’s fit later. I also added thread-covered bead buttons and fingerloop loops for the closure of the cuffs. The painting by Ludger tom Ring (der Ältere) (1496 – 3.4.1547) – Portrait of an Architect, part of the collection at the Gemäldegalerie Berlin, has an example of the loop and button closure in period.
Constructing the Body
Next, I hand-sewed the inside of the sleeve seams approximately halfway up, leaving the armpits and sides of the shirt open for fitting. Then I figured out the gusset and the fabric I needed on the side. I had the husband try it on, and I sorted that out. My husband is a big guy, very tall and with very broad shoulders and chest. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a ton of fabric left, and I had to piece some things together. I went with two rectangular pieces for the sides and two triangles put together for the gussets. I basted it all together, and we tested the fit again. I adjusted and pinned the upper edge of the gussets in the front and back seam until it was just right. Then I finalized all the seams with a back stitch and felled all the seams. There ended up being epic piecing. Once I had all the felling finished, I finished the hem.
And Then it Was Finished!
Reworking the Leibrock!
I wanted to take some studio-style pictures of my husband’s new outfit. I had a black leibrock I made for him back in 2023 for my Laurel elevation. I was in a crazy hurry and kinda missed the mark on it. I wasn’t happy with the closure and front panel. I tried reworking it in early 2025 for an event. I moved up the waist a little, added a rectangular flap closure to the front, and added some red silk trim. It looked pretty good with the rework; however, I did not press him to move the waist up to where it should be for German men’s dress.
Since I made this wonderful hemd, I wanted a more appropriate leibrock to take photos with. Luckily, he was on board, and I was able to rework the leibrock one more time.
MAKE THE WAIST HIGHER! Third Times the Charm!
I had two main goals for this rework: to make the waist higher and to make better sleeve cuffs. I started by cutting the skirt off and moved the bottom edge of the waist up 2 inches. I cut the excess from the bottom of the bodice and the last hook and eye in the front opening. I then reattached it by hand and finished he inside seam with some seam tape.
I also had to fix the opening flap. I had to finish the bottom seam and add hand-sewn eyes to the bottom. Then I fixed the red silk trim running around the flap.
Next, I removed the red inner sleeve, cut the bottom edge, and ripped 1 inch of the sleeve seam. I then added 2.5 inches of cotton velveteen to the bottom of the sleeve. Then I added tape to the inside seam, rolled the excess fabric back, and then whip-stitched the raw edge back into the tape. Lastly, I added red silk trim over the attachment seam on the cuff of the leibrock.
YAY – It’s All Done
I am very happy with the way the hemd and the leibrock came out. We had our photoshoot and the pictures came out great!
References
Arnold, J., Tiramani, J., & Levey, S. (2023 New Edition). Patterns of fashion 4: the cut and construction of linen shirts, smocks, neckwear, headwear and accessories for men and women c.1540-1660. New York: MacMillan. Print.
Barich, K., & McNealy, M. (2015). Drei Schnittbucher: Three Austrian Master Tailor Books of the 16th Century. Nadel und Faden Press, LLC. Print.
Boucher, F., & Deslandres, Y. (1996). A History of Costume in the West. Thames & Hudson. Print.
Fingerlin, I. (2001). Textil- und Lederfunde. In K. T. Stuttgart, Alpirsbach Zur Geschichte von
Kloster und Stadt – Textband 2 (pp. 715-817). Baden-Württemberg: Landesdenkamalamt – Baden-Württemberg. Print.
Flury-Lemberg, M. (1988). Textile Conservation and Research. Bern: Schriften Der Abegg- Stiftung. Print.
Koester, A. W., & Bryant, N. O. (1991). Fashion Terms and Styles for Women’s Garments. EC 1382: Oregon State University Extension Service.
Lübeck, G. v. (2015). Fitzarbeit büchlein: The Pleatwork Book — Mastering 15th and
16th Pleatwork Techniques. Retrieved from German Renaissance: http://germanrenaissance.net/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/Mastering-Pleatwork-Book- Genoveva.pdf Accessed Sept. 26, 2022.
Lecca, R. (2010). Luoghi e Volti del Punto Filza. Monserrato: Laboratorio – Il Tempo e lo Spazio. Print.
Rast-Eicher, A., & Tidow, K. (2011). Mühlberg-Ensemble: Die Textilien. In B. R. Habelt, R.
Atzbach, & I. Ericsson (Eds.), Die Ausgrabungen im Mühlberg-Ensemble Kempten (Allgäu) Metall, Holz und Textil. Germany: Otto-Friedrich-Universität Bamberg & Aarhus University. Print.
Rublack, U., Hayward, M., & Tiramani, J. (Eds.). (2015). The First Book of Fashion: The Book of Clothes of Matthäus and Veit Konrad Schwarz of Augsburg. Bloomsbury Academic. Print.
Structure. (2022). The George Washington University Museum – The Textile Museum: https://museum.gwu.edu/structure Accessed Sept. 26, 2022.
Zander-Seidel, J. (1990). Textiler Hausrat: Kleidung und Haustextilien in Nürnberg von 1500 – 1650. München: Dr. Kuntsvel. Print.