In 1891, an article, “Among the Dressmakers: Their Business and Customers – What Our Excess of Female Population Does for a Living” appeared in the Daily Hampshire Gazette newspaper.  The reporter interviewed some of the more than “200 women who make a living by clothing” in Northampton.  Clothing historian Lynne Zacek Bassett takes a closer look at dressmaking and some of the dressmakers in this article in the context of surviving dresses, photographs, and advertisements relating to Northampton dressmakers in the collection of Historic Northampton.
Women in the Work Force: The Trades of Dressmaking and Millinery
Women have always worked outside the home to earn cash. The textile trades especially have offered opportunities for women who needed to support themselves or their families. Job possibilities, which had been quite broad previously, narrowed for women in the 19th century, due to the values of the Romantic Era, which promoted idealized concepts of medieval male chivalry and female angelic docility. However, the needle trades remained open for women, and Northampton’s Main Street was lined with dressmakers and milliners throughout the 19th century.
Northampton's Main Street, 1887, photographed by the Knowlton Brothers Photographers.  Courtesy of Forbes Libary.
The Civil War from 1861 to 1865 led to what the Hampshire Gazette in 1891 uncharitably called “an excess of women.” It’s now estimated that 750,000 men were killed in the Civil War. Tens of thousands of others were wounded or broken in their physical or mental health by prisoner-of-war experiences and could no longer support their families. Women were forced to enter or stay in the work force in unprecedented numbers.  
Boom Period for Professional Dressmakers
​Post-Civil War America enjoyed a robust economy based on manufacturing.  Extravagant displays of wealth—what economist Thorstein Veblen called “conspicuous consumption” in his 1899 book, The Theory of the Leisure Class—became the fashion. The prosperity of the middle and upper classes, along with technological developments in sewing, weaving, lace making, and pattern drafting, created a fashion for elaborately embellished women’s garments. The complexity of fashionable drapery and fit in dresses proved too daunting for the skills of most home sewers. Thus, the late Victorian era was a boom period for professional dressmakers and well-timed for the thousands of women who had to make their own way following the losses of the Civil War. 
Bodice interior of Lucie Loud dress, c. 1882. Note the careful fit provided by multiple pattern pieces and boning on the seams.
Dressmakers in Northampton
​Locally, the dressmaking trade reached its zenith in 1900, when the Northampton Directory listed 73 dressmakers, or one dressmaker for every 258 Northampton residents. However, many other women worked as dressmakers without claiming the title, as indicated by the Daily Hampshire Gazette. In an article dated June 12, 1891 titled, “Among the Dressmakers,” the Gazette noted that “Few cities have so great an excess of women over men as Northampton,” adding that “Northampton’s over 2000 excess seems to impress itself on us.” They asked, “What does this excess do?” They claimed 97 were dressmakers (24 more than indicated in the 1900 city directory, which listed more dressmakers than any other year). In all, the Hampshire Gazette reporter found as he was researching his article that “over 200 women… make a living by clothing and adorning the bodies of their sex, and there must be many more.” Of the fifteen dressmakers interviewed for the article, eight were noted to be located on Main Street. Five stated that the students of Smith College were a very important segment of their clientele.
Lucie Jerusha Loud, Fashionable Dress Maker
​Few dressmakers labelled their creations.  If a label exists, it can usually be found on the petersham, a ribbon belt inside the dress, which was fastened around the wearer’s waist to keep the bodice from shifting out of alignment with the skirt. It can be assumed that many other dresses in Historic Northampton’s collection were made by local dressmakers; however, without a label, that information is generally lost.
​Lucie Jerusha Loud’s labels describe her as a “Fashionable Dress Maker.”  Perhaps her interest in style led her to use an inheritance from her father to travel in Europe for two years. When she returned from Europe in 1896, she was again listed in the city directories as a dressmaker. Certainly, she brought home knowledge of the latest European modes. She continued to work as a dressmaker until about 1909, when—perhaps recognizing the decreasing need for professional dressmakers—she turned her energies to running “The Anchorage,” a local landmark and highly regarded rooming house on South Street. When she died at age 74 in 1930, having never married, she bequeathed more than $12,000 and stock in an oil company to two cousins, evidence of her success as a businesswoman.
Petersham stamped with “Miss L. J. Loud / Fashionable Dress Maker, NORTHAMPTON, Mass.” Historic Northampton, 1978.92.2
​Dressmaking was one of the few careers allowed women that offered the potential to make a living wage, though seldom actual wealth.  A dressmaker combined her business acumen with pattern drafting and sewing skills—but to be truly successful, she needed to be an artist. Her understanding of color, fabrics, and tasteful ornamentation brought customers to her door.
Mrs. M. R. Lewis, Jr., 219 Main Street and Mrs. Lizzie Violet of Main Street
​I say dressmakers ought to get as good pay as a laboring man, from $1.50 to $4 a day. They don’t work any harder than we do, only theirs is more manual labor, and ours brain work.
- Mrs. M. R. Lewis, Jr.,
“Among the Dressmakers,” Hampshire Gazette, June 12, 1891.
​Mrs. Lewis (quoted above) was having a tough time of it. While most of the other dressmakers interviewed by the Hampshire Gazette reporter said that they had all the work that they could handle and more, Mrs. Lewis of 219 Main Street said that in the three years that she had done business in Northampton, she had “found it very difficult to pay our way.” Lizzie Violet, another Northampton dressmaker, found herself similarly short of clients. She and her husband had come to Northampton from Fall River four months earlier, and her husband had recently suffered an accident that caused him to go deaf. Mrs. Violet said that she had “not much work yet, and God knows I need it.” She felt her shop was located too far up Main Street and wished that she could afford the rent in a busier part of downtown.
"The weary and worn seamstress still at the work that kills"
​Women in the clothing trades had to work very hard to make a living, even if they had a large clientele. This illustration from a c. 1885 newspaper has the following caption: “This picture tells its own sad tale. The ball-dress, destined to grace the form of some wealthy belle, must be completed that the girl who broiders it may win bread. Dawn is coming in at the casement to find the weary and worn seamstress still at the work that kills.” Mrs. E. P. Knight noted in her interview that she had “broken down under the heavy pressure of business,” and so had cut back on her workload, finding “it agrees with me better.” She was apparently in the happy position of not having to earn an income to support an entire household.
​Seamstresses—those who could only construct simple items like shirts and trousers, or who sewed the seams for dressmakers, but did not know how to “cut” (meaning to draft a pattern)—generally received only starvation wages. The newspaper gave the wages earned by the Northampton dressmakers: “Their prices and wages vary, wages being about $1 a day without board. There is a large class of women who ‘go out’ sewing, and they get from $1 to $1.50 per day….  They unite the duties of the seamstress with those of the cutter and fitter.” Those wages are far better than urban seamstresses working in sweatshops, who typically earned about 25 cents a day, but $1.50 was nevertheless a low daily wage for such skilled work, and it seems even that minimal amount was not always met.
​Many of the Northampton dressmakers interviewed by the Hampshire Gazette stated that they employed seamstresses and dressmakers to help them—anywhere from one helper, with whom Madame Fernstrom at 155 Main Street declared she worked with regularly into the night hours, to Mrs. Twiss, who employed as many as twelve helpers in her busy season. Mary Dickinson stated that she employed a “large corps of assistants” to keep up with her orders.  
I can make a dress for a lady with a 30 inch waist, appear to be no more than 23 inches.
- Madame Lloyd,
“Among the Dressmakers,” Hampshire Gazette, June 12, 1891
​Only two of the dressmakers interviewed by the Gazette used the prefix of “Madame,” and neither were actually French. It was a common affectation suggesting an association with Paris, the fashion center of the western world. Madame Lloyd was reported to have been found “just up to her eyes in business” in her salon on Court Street. Indicating the importance of apprenticeship in the education of dressmakers, she told the reporter, “I came here two years ago from Washington, where I had been in the employ of the famous modiste, Madame Washington, the leading dressmaker of America. ‘Twas there I learned my mode of fitting, which has proved so successful.  It was patented by Madame Washington.  To my perfect fitting, I owe my success and popularity.”  [“Madame Washington” was Rebecca Theresa Adams Washington Hurdle (1830–1896). Her salon was located on Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C.] Indeed, a perfect fit was a sign of prestige and a degree of wealth. As Mrs. L. C. Knapp stated in her interview, “You cannot make a $5 suit and have it fit. People who know a good fit know that they have to pay for it.”
Mary Clark Ferry (1831-1881) and Mary Harris Dickinson (1832-1904)
​Northampton boasted two dressmakers whom local history has remembered as being “famous” in their day—Mary Clark Ferry (1831–1881) and Mary Harris Dickinson (1832–1904). Even though they did not themselves claim the prestigious title “Madame” in their advertising, the community honored them by calling them “Mesdames Ferry & Dickinson.”  While family stories rather inflate the reputation of Mary Clark Ferry, stating that her clientele included Lily Langtry and Sarah Bernhardt (neither is possible, as she died before they performed in Northampton), the memory that she sewed for wealthy clients from New York is likely accurate.
​Both women appear to have had family circumstances that led them to hang out their shingle as dressmakers.  Mary Clark Ferry, a Northampton native with deep family ties to the area, married local farmer Lemuel Ferry in 1854. Her father died a few years later and the 1860 census shows that Mary and Lemuel had taken in her mother and younger sister. Mary and Lemuel had one son, born in 1859. In 1860 the value of their real estate and personal property added up to $3,800 (worth about $147,901 in 2025), placing them in the middle class, but definitely not a substantial value to support a household of six (which also included a 60-year-old woman named Harriet Strong, noted as being a “laborer” in the census, so she was probably either a domestic servant or a boarder). 
​The family’s financial situation had changed by the time of the 1870 census, which listed Lemuel as an accountant (city directories indicate he worked for a local butcher) and Mary as a dressmaker, with a household value that had tripled to $13,000 (worth $506,000 in 2025), so clearly, their change in occupation, especially Mary’s work as a dressmaker, added significantly to the household budget. 
​Mary Harris Dickinson’s family situation was clearly amiss. She married William Dickinson, a merchant and native of Ireland, in 1853 and had two sons, but by the time of the 1870 U. S. Census, she was listed as head of household, without William.  William disappeared from the Northampton City Directories.  Mary’s will in 1899 charged her two sons with caring for their father, making it clear that her husband was at least partially financially dependent on her.  In 1900, William was listed in the census as living with his brother and sister; he died two years before Mary, in 1902. 
​Mary Ferry began her dressmaking career as the sole proprietress of a shop, but started working in a successful partnership with Mary Dickinson around 1868. Together, they dressed Northampton women from “the best families” (to quote Mary Dickinson in the Gazette article), as well as students from Smith College. They employed a group of seamstresses, and several later dressmakers were proud to claim apprenticeship with them. In the reminiscence, Around a Village Green (1939), Mary Adèle Allen described dresses worn by women from elite Amherst families: “These dresses were made by the famous dressmakers of Northampton, Mmes. Ferry and Dickinson, whom many in Amherst patronized. It may be of interest to know that the standard price for making a dress was fifty dollars, aside from linings and furnishings. The bill for extras was also headed by the item: ‘Sewing silk, two dollars.’” (Fifty-two dollars is worth about $1,030 in 2025.)
​Ferry & Dickinson’s salon was on Main Street, over Lincoln and Southwick’s Store. Sometime before 1876, they moved to 102 Main, over Copeland’s Bazar, which called itself “a Fashion Emporium.” Copeland’s sold fashionable accessories, and silks, wools and cotton yard goods, as well as fans, silk flowers, and hosiery. The proximity of two such establishments was common and provided stylish and convenient services for all well-dressed women and girls.
Dress by Ferry & Dickinson, c. 1881.
Historic Northampton, 1977.130a-b.
The tasteful elegance of Ferry & Dickinson’s designs can certainly be seen in this dress, with its magnificent draping and a fit that was undoubtedly perfect.
​This photo of Mary Ferry, taken in January of 1879, was produced by “Jordan” of West 23rd Street, an address unique to New York City.  The New York City Directory of 1870 lists Andrew Jordan, a native of Ireland, as a photographer with his son (also named Andrew). Here, then, is evidence that Mary Ferry and undoubtedly also Mary Dickinson traveled to New York to buy fabric and trims, and to check out the latest fashion information, as they claimed in their advertising.
Among the leading ladies of Hampshire County to patronize the Ferry & Dickinson salon was Fannie Burr Look.  As the daughter of George A. Burr, a wealthy and prominent Northampton manufacturer, Fannie Burr could have had her wedding dress made by a famous New York or Boston couturier, but she chose Mary Ferry. The dress features openwork on the sleeves covered with strings of pearls, and a picot edge of hand-stitched pearls along the edge of the bodice and skirt drapery. (The dress is in the collection of Historic Northampton, accession number 66.193a-b. The skirt was altered probably in the 1880s to make the drapery asymmetrical.)  A contemporary account of the “large and fashionable wedding” reveals that the ladies in attendance pronounced the dress “just splendid,” an advertisement of the best kind for the skills of Mrs. Ferry.
​After Mary Ferry’s unexpected death, Mary Dickinson advertised her business as a “Fashionable Establishment…with shipments regularly received from New York City.”  The Hampshire Gazette article, “Among the Dressmakers,” included the interview with Mrs. Dickinson first, noting that “A large portion of Mrs. Dickinson’s business comes from the ladies of Smith College.”  She said of her business herself, “My busy season is from September until January.  I am constantly getting new customers, mostly from the oldest and best families of the city, and I am obliged to employ a large corps of assistants, who are artists in their profession.”  Mary Dickinson retired from dressmaking around 1897 and died in 1904 following an accident in her home. 
Harriet A. Phelps
​One year after Mary Clark Ferry’s death, her widower, Lemuel, married another dressmaker, Harriet A. Phelps, who likely was one of the dressmakers employed by Ferry & Dickinson. Harriet, known as “Hattie,” established her own dressmaking shop on Main Street. She is seen at the upper right in this photograph. Standing in the center is dressmaker Mabelle Forrister Stearns, who married jewelry store clerk Edward John Gare in 1892. Her wedding dress survives in Historic Northampton’s collection.
Mabelle Forrister Stearns Gare wedding dress, 1892. Historic Northampton, 1987.103.1
​Although Mabelle made her wedding dress in a practical shade of rusty brown so that she could continue to wear it as her best dress, it was far from ordinary. The large leg-o’-mutton sleeves were the height of fashion in the early 1890s and the ribbon fringe on the bodice was an elegant and imaginative touch. Mabelle continued to work for Hattie until her first child was born in 1893.
Demise of the Custom Dressmaking Trade
​The development of separate blouses, jackets, and skirts in the 1890s, followed by looser fashions in the early 20th century—especially after World War I—spelled the demise of a robust custom dressmaking trade. A wide variety of off-the-rack clothing for women became available for the first time, and simpler styles allowed more home sewers to dress themselves. The numbers of dressmakers listed the Northampton City Directories declined significantly in the early 20th century, as jobs in a wider variety of professions opened up for women.
Excerpts from "Among the Dressmakers," Daily Hampshire Gazette, Monday, January 12, 1891
"Mrs. Emma A. Williams 209 Main St., -- I employ 7 or 8 girls most of the time, and can always find plenty for them to do. Sometimes even with two extra hands, we are working until late at night. Most of my business is done with the ladies of Smith college. Frequently on return of the girls from vacation, I get orders for as many as 4 or 5 suits at a time, therefore dispelling at once, the idea some people have, that the students bring their clothes with them. One young lady who was going to California, a short time ago, had 8 suits made for one order. They have their clothes made of the best material, and I have never lost a dollar by one of them.  I go to Boston and New York twice a year for the latest fashions, and to get new ideas."
"Mrs. Lizzie Violet, Main street – I came here from Fall River four months ago, and have not had much work yet, and God knows I need it.  My husband met with an accident which injured his head, causing deafness, three months ago, and has not been able to work since.  I am afraid my rooms are too far up, but I cannot afford to pay the rent charged for the lower ones.  I have a few customers, and hope to have more. The doctors have given their opinion that my husband’s deafness is incurable, so that I find it a hard matter to make enough for both of us."