Hello, lovely people of Ilchester and beyond! I’m Eleanor, a local dressmaker, blogger, and sewing enthusiast. Nestled here in charming Ilchester, I’ve spent countless hours threading needles, cutting fabrics, and crafting outfits that bring joy and confidence to the wearer – me!

This blog is a cosy corner for beginners and seasoned stitchers alike. Together, we’ll explore projects that celebrate creativity, sustainability, and, of course, style. To kick things off, I’m thrilled to share an exciting sewing project we’ll be diving into over the next few posts:

1. How to Make a Pinafore Dress – A versatile and timeless piece for any wardrobe.

The project will include step-by-step instructions, helpful tips, and video tutorials to guide you along the way. Plus, I’ll share snippets of my life in Ilchester, where the local charm and countryside inspire every stitch I sew.

Are you ready to pick up your pins and start this creative journey with me? Let’s make something beautiful together!

What you’ll need for the Pinafore dress project.

Whilst you can hand-sew this project with needle and thread, I’ll assume you have at least a simple sewing machine which can sew a straight stitch and a simple zig-zag stitch. You’ll need some dress-making pins, sharp scissors that you’ll use only for cutting fabric – 150mm to 200mm length scissor blades for this project – these are most commonly available. Some scissors for cutting paper – we’ll use these for cutting pattern pieces. A roll of paper about 40 to 50cm wide and from which you can unroll lengths of around 1.5 m. I like to use remnants of wall-paper rolls or even buy a cheap roll of smooth (not textured) wall-paper just for drawing patterns on the back to cut out. Some sticky tape for sticking some pattern pieces together when we need to overlap them for wider patterns. Fabric of your choice and a reel of matching thread. Some tailor’s chalk in a colour that is contrasting to your fabric would be really useful. Also, a simple needle and white thread will come in handy for adding tailor tacks – stitches we use to mark a point, or basting stitches – long hand-stitches we use to simply hold two layers of fabric together until we have stitched them permanently in place using a sewing machine – the basting stitches then get removed. Basting stitches are sometimes better than pinning materials together.

Oh, and you’ll need a notepad and pen for writing down measurements and a shopping list of items you’ll want to buy.

In our first project, we’ll be making a classic, simple pinafore dress like the ones pictured below.

All three of these dresses come from the same simple pattern. I’ll show you how to make the pattern for your size.

If you’d like to make this pinafore dress for yourself or someone you know, grab your tape measure and write down your measurements – or those for your intended wearer.

• Bust measurement – horizontal circumference over the fullest part the bust.
• Natural waist measurement – measure the circumference at the narrowest part of the tummy, mid-body.
• Hip measurement – horizontal circumference at the widest part of the hips.
• Length from mid-shoulder down the front to natural waist line – over the fullest part of the bust.
• Length from mid-shoulder down to your desired hemline – perhaps you’d prefer this to be short, above knee or below knee – your choice.

Using the measurements.

We’ll use your measurements to draw a pattern that we’ll use as the basis for making a pinafore dress that fits. We’ll draw the shape, including choosing the style of neck-line you’d like, and the width of the dress over the shoulders. We’ll add a little to the measurements to allow for ‘ease’ – that’s the space you need under your clothes to allow you to move in them, we don’t want them skin-tight! We’ll also add a little to allow for the seams we need to sew the pieces together.

The Pinafore dress – A Humble Classic

What’s so great about the humble pinafore dress is that, at it’s simplest, it’s just two pieces of material sewn together.

Now, that said, it’s just as simple to do the same again in a lighter lining material and insert that inside the main pinafore dress to create a really comfy and professional looking dress.

And, what’s more, we can fancy things up and add – simple – patch pockets, change the shape of the neckline and even, if we want to, add a zip or button openings / closures.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll start by making a simple pinafore dress that can be put on over our heads, just like the ones pictured.

Here, the examples are made in corduroy, wool, and cotton / acrylic mix.

Of course, we are all excited to get started actually sewing but we’ll have fun first making our pattern pieces which we’ll use to work out just how much material we’ll need for the project, and to cut out the fabric in the size and shapes we need.

Then we’ll shop for our material.

Once we know how much material we need we can go shopping. This is great fun – browsing fabric shops in-store or online, and… charity shops  – yes! We can recycle materials we get from old bedding or, as I have done lots of times, buy quality over-sized garments in the charity shops and cut out the material we need for a project, from the over-sized garment. What a great way of re-using material! Let’s keep it sustainable!

In my next post, I’ll take my set of measurements and use them to draw the pattern for my next pinafore dress which I’ll make in denim. I intend to wear my denim pinafore when gardening and running errands and doing household chores, a practical and refreshing alternative to wearing jeans.

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Thank you everyone, especially children, who made the Lantern Parade and Christmas tree lights switch-on such a great event.

One parade wound its way down from the school to the town hall, while another came up from West Street, following the trailer carrying Father Christmas’s illuminated reindeer. Choosing the best lantern was hard but Father Christmas chose Elli, and so it was she who had the honour of climbing the ladder to switch on the Christmas tree lights.

The Christmas bauble colouring competition was popular. The winners were: pre-school, Reuben Forrester; infants, Luna Scaife; juniors, Mason Williams; seniors Logan Williams. Ilchester and District Community Association organised the event. Thanks to Graham Pope for the reindeer trailer, Lucy at The Bull for hosting lantern workshops in the skittles alley in the run-up to the parade, and Paul and Jane Simpson and Rose for running the hot dog stand.

A warm welcome awaits you at St. Mary Major

You will be welcomed by Christmas trees as soon as you step into the church of St Mary Major. Groups who have decorated their “own” tree include Ilchester History Group, Rainbows and Brownies and Ilchester Community School. The Ilchester Arms and Just Maria have also joined in.

Posted by Tina Rowe

Father Christmas and an elf (Amie) were kept very busy on Saturday (30th November) at Ilchester town hall as the Christmas Fair was in full swing.

Lots of children who certainly were not on Santa’s naughty list were given presents, courtesy of Ilchester and District Community Association which organised the event.  

It is understood that the scaffolding on the building would have frightened Santa’s reindeer so he parked his sleigh out of town rather than on the roof.

Posted by Tina Rowe

Introducing Our New Book Serialisation: Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt and the Ilchester Bastille, by Mick Davis.

We’re excited to launch the serialisation of this remarkable book exploring Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt’s time at Ilchester Gaol—an episode that not only shaped his legacy as a reformer but also exposed the dark underbelly of Britain’s prison system in the early 19th century.

Hunt, a tireless advocate for parliamentary reform and the rights of the working class, was imprisoned following his involvement in the Peterloo Massacre. Yet his time in the so-called “Ilchester Bastille” was far from a retreat into silence. Instead, Hunt used his incarceration as a platform to uncover and publicize the appalling conditions faced by prisoners under the management of William Bridle, the notorious governor of the prison.

From writing his memoirs to rallying public opinion, Hunt’s imprisonment became an act of defiance. His observations laid bare a system riddled with mismanagement, cruelty, and neglect, galvanizing support for prison reform and broader societal change. Despite the constraints of his situation, Hunt’s wit, determination, and commitment to justice shone through, turning his confinement into an opportunity to further the causes he held dear.

Through this serialisation, we invite you to step inside Ilchester Gaol and experience Hunt’s unique perspective. Far from a tale of suffering alone, this is a story of resilience, ingenuity, and the power of words to challenge and inspire.

Join us on this journey as we bring to life the experiences of one of Britain’s most compelling historical figures of that time, and explore how his time behind bars at Ilchester became a catalyst for change.

A tale of two sisters and a failing chip shop. A quest for potatoes. (With songs).

Children – and adults – had fun at the spooky Halloween Party organised in the Town Hall by Ilchester and District Community Association. There was plenty to do from face-painting, making ghosts and edible witches’ broomsticks, to dancing in the (almost) dark by the light of giant imitation pumpkins. Halloween-themed food included skeleton hands (transparent gloves filled with popcorn – see our photographs).

We have a growing collection of items for you to browse in our shop.

Take a look…

…Adult sweatshirts

hoodies and more…

It was a night shrouded in mist, the sort that clung to the walls of Ilchester Jail and veiled the distant Somerset hills. For years, Ilchester’s stone walls had held whispers of cruelty. Inmates shuffled in silence, their bodies frail and hollowed by starvation, their minds frayed by the darkness that seemed to seep from the stones themselves. But tonight, it was not only the inmates who shivered.

Inside the jail, William Bridle, the jailer of Ilchester, made his nightly rounds. Bridle was a hard man, unmoved by the pleas of his prisoners. His footsteps echoed coldly down the stone corridors as he passed row after row of damp cells. This night was like any other for Bridle. He tightened his grip on his iron keys, smirked at the muffled groans and coughs behind each cell door, and muttered curses under his breath at the men he watched over.

For years, he’d taken pride in his ability to instil fear and obedience, in the way his very presence silenced even the most vocal of prisoners.

Tonight, however, the silence felt different.

He stopped in front of one cell that had once held Henry Hunt, the political reformer. Hunt had been released long ago, but Bridle recalled with satisfaction how the man had left weakened and sickened. Hunt’s cell had always seemed colder than the rest, its shadowed corners alive with whispers.

Bridle chuckled as he thought back to the times he’d left Hunt and the others to suffer in their filth, chained in darkness and denied fresh air. He remembered the gaunt faces, sunken eyes, and frail bodies—all signs of the suffering he’d inflicted with calculated precision. Yet tonight, as he stood there reminiscing, he felt a strange chill crawl up his spine. The air was colder than usual, a dampness that clung to his skin and made his breath mist in front of him.

“Bridle…”

A voice, barely a whisper, seemed to call from down the corridor. He whipped around, his heart racing for a beat before he steadied himself. He was alone. The inmates were all behind locked doors, and the guards were stationed outside. Shaking off the unease, he continued down the hall, though he could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.

Passing the old cells, he felt the chill intensify. The torches flickered as if the air were growing thinner, and every sound seemed sharper, from the drip of water off the stones to the scuttling of rats in the shadows. As he moved deeper into the jail, he noticed that even the faint, rhythmic breathing of the prisoners had ceased. Silence blanketed the cells.

“Jailer…”

Again, a voice called out. This time, it was closer, like a breath against his ear. Bridle spun around, his knuckles white as he gripped his keys, scanning the shadows for movement. But there was no one there. Only the cold stone walls and the flickering of the torchlight, which cast long, twisting shadows that seemed to writhe as if alive.

“I must be going mad,” he muttered, trying to laugh it off. But his voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

Continuing his rounds, he approached a cell notorious among the inmates—a place where prisoners claimed to hear the cries of past inmates who had not survived their time in Ilchester. Bridle felt his pulse quicken as he reached it. The door was old, the wood rotting in places, and the hinges screeched as he pulled it open. The room was empty, as he knew it would be. But tonight, something felt…wrong.

“Did you think we’d be silent forever, Bridle?”

The voice, low and thick with anger, reverberated through the cell, freezing Bridle in place. He stumbled backward, his heart hammering as he squinted into the shadows. A figure emerged—vague, ghostly, yet unmistakably real. Its face was gaunt, eyes sunken, but there was no mistaking the look of cold, burning rage in them.

“Henry…Hunt?” Bridle’s voice cracked.

The specter grinned, though there was no warmth in it, only a kind of grim satisfaction. He stepped closer, and Bridle could feel the air around him turn icy, sucking the warmth from his skin. “I am one of many, Bridle,” the specter hissed. “You thought us weak, caged, but we are all here—every life you’ve broken.”

Bridle staggered back, his breath coming in gasps. He tried to call for help, but no sound left his throat. The specter pointed a skeletal finger at him, and suddenly the room was filled with more figures, shadows taking form one by one—thin, hollow-eyed men, with faces contorted by suffering and pain.

“Look at us,” another whispered. “You did this to us.”

The room seemed to close in around him. Bridle could feel his chest tighten, the air around him thick and suffocating. He tried to bolt, but his legs felt leaden. The prisoners’ specters moved closer, closing in with hollow eyes filled with vengeance.

The jailer sank to his knees, his hands trembling as he tried to shield his face. But the shadows were relentless, pressing closer until they surrounded him completely. He could feel their cold fingers gripping his arms, his shoulders, his neck, the touch both intangible and icy, as if death itself were dragging him down.

The figures whispered in unison, their voices mingling into a ghostly chant. “For the nights we were left to rot, for the days without food or light, for the chains that bound us—this is your justice, William Bridle.”

Bridle’s screams echoed through the corridors, yet no one heard him. He fell silent, the last shreds of his strength drained, his body slumping to the stone floor as the shadows faded, leaving only the damp chill of Ilchester Jail.

The next morning, guards found Bridle’s body lying in the hallway, his face frozen in terror, eyes wide and mouth open as if still screaming. No cause could be found for his death, but the prisoners spoke in hushed tones, claiming they had heard his screams through the night, echoing down the dark corridors.

From that night on, the inmates claimed that strange things happened in the jail—footsteps with no source, whispers in the dark, and chills that seeped into the bones. Some said it was Bridle’s spirit, trapped within the walls he had once ruled with cruelty. Others swore it was the souls of those he had wronged, lingering in Ilchester Jail to ensure he never found peace.

To this day, those who pass by the site of Ilchester Jail say that, on quiet nights, if you listen closely, you can hear faint footsteps echoing down the crumbling corridors and the distant, ghostly cries of William Bridle, haunted by the very souls he thought he had silenced forever.

Ilchester Jail was situated to the west of the bridge. Many executions took place at the nearby Gallows Field.

For the real story behind Henry Hunt and William Bridle, and how Ilchester Jail became a focal point for penal reform in the 19th Century, read the serialisation of Somerset Historian, Mick Davis’ book, ‘Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt and The Ilchester Bastille’, coming soon to this website.

If you would like to receive the first instalment of ‘Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt and The Ilchester Bastille’, direct via email, subscribe now…