The New Look

I'm no fashion historian, but I understand that M. Dior's New Look was a well-won "fuck you" to post-war fabric restrictions - and very likely to the recently-ended war itself. (Ha! Having re-read this sentence, there's absolutely no question that I'm not a fashion historian!)

I have always been enamored of the flouncy, but clean and appropriate lines of the this style. It's all business, but with a dirty-little-secret. One imagines some outrageously sexy lingerie lurking beneath the correct and splendidly-fitted jackets. I also love the attention to hips, provided by the designs.

Though I spend much of my time talking about fit as it pertains to breasts, I actually am most attracted to an emphasized, curved-hip silhouette, the likes of which is the emblem of the New Look. Who doesn't love a nipped-waist graciously expanding towards soft, feminine hips??

Which is why, when I found this jacket I was a bit in its thrall:

Advance 6921

Admittedly, it's the wearable, 1950s suburban version of a theatrical, late 40s original. More business. Less flounce.

I love the side-dart / vertical front-dart combo. This is a very smart way to achieve good fit for a bust that is proportionately large on its frame. The shawl collar is the essence of elegance. I do love me a shawl collar, be it modern or vintage. IMO, it transcends the concept of "era" though it's less ubiquitous in modern fashion than it was in days gone by. Note: You can always find a version of this neck in high-end RTW. Knit-wear designers know that a shawl collar is exceedingly chic - and youth-giving - on a woman of a certain age (and neck).

The jacket ends at the high-hip, an attractive visual cut-line, especially when worn against a full skirt having upwards of 8 yards of fabric.

Has there ever been a time in history since, when so much draped-fabric has produced such a compact silhouette?

At any rate, this pattern, gorgeous though it is, does not come with printed markings. It's of a vintage that markings are symbolized by perforations, clarified by a legend. You can imagine how, in my current state of mind, and having maybe a gram of oomph (at most, in the middle of the afternoon), I'm not in the market to learn this new skill just at the moment.

But it'll be there for me when it's time.

Today's questions: What do you think of the New Look? How do you like this jacket's riff on it? Have you ever made a jacket of this era / having this vibe? Do you enjoy working with unprinted vintage patterns - or are they a pain in the ass? Let's talk

Making Vintage Modern: A Matter Of Scale

Linda asked me, in a comment on my last post, whether I found it challenging to scale my last vintage project (the Princess Jumper) for modern standards. We know I found the armsyce depth issue difficult.  But, in truth, since I was making a "rescoped vintage pattern" - that is to say a vintage one reconsidered and adjusted by a modern knitter (Susan Crawford) - most of the modernizing was done for me.

That won't be the case with my next vintage pattern -  the Late Day Abbreviated Coat (seriously tedious name, peeps) - because it's a vintage pattern in its vintage state without any of the helpful rescaling that current-day pattern alterers provide.

I'd love to tell you that I have a system worked out. Actually, I don't even know how I'm going to cast on (provisionally) but 15 stitches for my next project -  the sassy Guernsey Shawl by Jared Flood. (BTW, I've rarely seen a pattern so beautifully executed and clearly explained as this one. There's a whole set of instructions on simply knitting the gauge swatch. The only thing this guy doesn't do is knit your freakin' shawl.) The point is I've got a whole project's-worth of time to figure out the Late Day rescoping! Can only afford to get fussed about the very next thing in the queue. :-)

Having said this, my biggest concerns, when I see an olde pattern, are understanding a) what stitch pattern it uses (they say everything differently in "vintage-speak", let's face it, I'm not a long-time knitter with knowledge of every stitch-type) and b) figuring out how modern yarn and needles can be used to obtain the gauge required.

In the Late Day pattern, in addition to doing some fairly standard things, one has to cross stitches (wonder what the hell that means, but I do hope there's online info out there), the gauge tells me - if not the yarn brand, which I've never heard of - that I'm gonna have to use fingering weight yarn, likely on size 1 or 2 needles (8 stitches per inch, 7 rows per inch). Natch, I'm going to confirm that, cuz every yarn knits differently and depending on the stitch pattern.

The Late Day pattern comes with two extra documents which the vendor provides:

One speaks about terminology - specifically UK vs American and Australian terminology. It seems to be most focused on crochet.

The other document speaks about vintage vs new needle sizing (in US and UK sizes) and about vintage-to-modern yarn. The fact is, your gauge will tell you most of what you need to know. You'll likely be working with modern yarn - easier to knit than the old stuff in certain ways. Look at the garment photo (hope it's a photo; illustrations aren't super helpful). Aim to determine what quality of drape and hand you're going for (this is as much about experience with textiles as knitting) and choose accordingly. Your gauge swatch will confirm whether you're on the right track.

The interesting thing about the Late Day jacket is that, to my eye, it looks double knit i.e. knit with two strands of yarn worked simultaneously. According to the pattern it is not. I have to imagine that that stitch pattern's gonna give it a lot of body. But I'd be smart to use a pretty firm yarn.

In my travels, I've come across the following resource: Discontinued Yarn Charts.

Let's say you're trying to figure out how many yards of yarn you'll need (if, for example, the vintage pattern tells you to use X skeins of Y (vintage) yarn). This chart tells you how many oz. and yards to a (specific brand of) skein. It is also useful to give info about the composition of the yarn, which the pattern may not provide.

Some vintage patterns are harder to decipher than others. The McCardell Convertible was very difficult. The instructions were almost non-existent. There were no reviews to be found. The construction was in no way intuitive and, even after all the knitting was complete, I still managed to seam the thing together incorrectly (and I'm not an idiot!). The downfall of this pattern is that it wasn't really scalable. Because I couldn't figure out when I was knitting the bust, I couldn't alter it to make it wider there. As a result, I had to make a size that was more or less too big everywhere else.  These are the kinds of challenges one is apt to face when knitting vintage, as far as I can tell with my limited experience.

If you're new to knitting vintage patterns - and I sure am - I urge you to consider:

• Use patterns that have been modernized by designers like Susan Crawford. 

• The more reviews of that vintage pattern you can find, the better off you'll be if the going gets tough. 

• Research stitch patterns by actually typing in the instruction line into Google. You'd be amazed by how often that yields an explanation. 

• Gain advice from knowledgeable knitters - especially the old ones! After all, they were there when that vintage was modern and they've got so much experience.

• You may not be able to duplicate the original garment. That doesn't mean your new vintage garment won't look terrific - or vintage. But you'll have the best chance of duplication if you follow instructions faithfully with yarn that is as close as possible to that which has been recommended. 

• Blocked gauge is particularly important because, when knitting vintage, chances are you'll be aiming for a closer silhouette than that you'll find in many modern patterns. Even fitted modern patterns - constructed according to gauge - tend to fit more slackly than vintage ones. This is ok for a modern garment. It's "the style". Your pin-up sweater, however, having shoulders an inch too-wide, will not look slouchy in a modern way. It will look ill-fitting.

Of course, my experience is limited so I would love your input! Today's question: What tips can you give to assist us in converting vintage patterns into modern-made garments?

Next up, more about the Guernsey Shawl. I'm going to spend part of tomorrow learning provisional cast on...

Almost Time

Ever since I learned the craft, I've been wanting to knit something like this:

Elinor's Jumper by Knitchet

Or this:

The Perfect Christmas Jumper by Susan Crawford

Or this:

The Victory Jumper by Knitsels

(Is that last one Intarsia?)

In truth, stranded colour-work freaks me out. It seems so fussy. And I really can't knit continentally at this point (I've tried - not tremendously hard, but I've tried) so working one colour with the right hand and the other with the left hand seems implausible.

Are any of you English-style knitters who also make fabulous Fair Isle sweaters? Is it difficult? Or does it just look that way?

Updated With Photos: Liberty, Take Two

OK, I couldn't let it go with that top. I mean, it is a nice pattern. It's elegant; it's got good bones. And the darting on the sleeves and at the bust are a great vintage take on a t shirt.

All night long (and you know how long that is), I considered ways of reviving it.

This morning I got up at some ridiculous hour (especially in light of the time change) and made adjustments, namely, I serged another 2 inches of width out of the side seams. Actually, it looks a lot better.

But, my night-hatched plan will not be silent. What I'm going to do: turn it into a dress.

What?!?!?

Wait, it gets better. I'm going to draft the skirt (added to the top to make it a dress) myself.

No, I've never drafted anything. Well, that's not true, but my drafting skills are exceedingly untested. Here's the thing, I have a sense that the top will hang better on my frame if there's some substantial vertical weight at the end of it. Not to mention that the line, I believe, will work better on me if everything skims the body closely from armscye to high hip (though I will put the seam at natural waist) and then hangs loosely to just below the knee.

Right now this top is bland (well, less bland now that I've actually fitted it to my waist dimensions) because it wants to be dramatic, but it's not dramatic.

So, I've taken some vertical and horizontal measurements. I've added in seam allowances. I really don't know what shape to make the paper pattern to yield the fitted at waist that goes full and drapey at the bottom. I'm seriously making it up as I go along.

I can't tell you how fun it is to just make shit up. Of course, it's much more fun when the finished product works out - which truly does remain to be seen right now.

At any rate, we'll see how it goes. It's a couple of serged seams and a whole lot of alchemy.

Thoughts or advice??

Update: Well, this wasn't rocket science...

Note that I haven't hemmed the skirt yet, and may opt not to (esp. if I throw this thing away). I want to let it hang and stretch before I do so...

In some ways, the back view shows it off to best advantage. Pls. note, as always, my shoulders are not this wide. Moreover, neither are my hips. I wish I could shape the hips on this dress form like my own actual hips. Note: I've TRIED! Here the hips look shelf-like. Mine are more gently sloping from waist to upper leg. And I think my shape suits the dress more than the form's.

See that arm seam? I like it! And the bust seam too, though I would make it 2 inches longer, were I to do it again. I think a pointy-boob shape is called for.

OK, on styling this thing, I have finally identified my issue: There is NO way to remove the stench of 1987 from this shape. I'm sorry, but I was SO there the first time and I cannot go back.

I'm also kind of over the little black dress. Black is severe, peeps. It's hard to make it friendly.

Notes on the Skirt:

I simply used my vertical and horizontal measurements (plus an inch for seam allowances) to create a wide A line skirt (no front or back seams though you could easily fold the pattern in half if you needed to conserve fabric) cut on the straight of grain. I made sure to bring the sides up about an inch higher than the centre because, effectively, the sides of this skirt are cut on the bias, given their width from the skirt midline. (Note: I think that's the case, but maybe I'm making that up?)

I could have made it longer, and made the waist of the dress start higher. As it is, the full skirt is 24". Were I to hem, make it longer and start it higher, I'd likely want to make it 26". That would give a great boot length. As it is now, it falls about an inch below my knee, unhemmed. I'll wear it, if I get up the nerve, with slim-calf, knee high boots having a 1 inch heel (like a flat with a little something).

While this dress most certainly fits me more nicely than my dress form, it's still super 80s to my eye.

What do you think?

PS: A night's-worth of rumination notwithstanding, this skirt took 2 hours to draft and assemble, with the completed top, into a dress. No, I haven't hemmed yet (the part that takes a long time on a wide-hemmed skirt), but really, it was not hard or scary. I did not need any special skills given that this was done in forgiving ponte and I wasn't darting anything. I only needed to know these measurements, which took 5 minutes to determine:

• Where my natural waist sits vis a vis my navel (2.5 inches above)
• Where my high hip sits vis a vis my waist (4.25 inches below)
• Where my full hip sits vis a vis my high hip (2 inches below)
• What length to cut from my natural waist to hem (24")
• Waist circumference (29.5")
• High Hip circumference (36")
• Full hip circumference (38")

I did have to lop 5" off the bottom of the top, and remove another 3 inches of circumference from, before serging it to the skirt. Otherwise it would have been way too long to seam at the natural waist, and way too blouson to add to the fitted-at-waist and high hip skirt.

Liberty

Today, driven by the need for normalcy and fun, motivated by the cheer of the first day in about 25 that didn't rain from morning to night, I sewed a top.

I'll take a moment and contemplate with incredulity. I actually sewed something. For the first time in a freakin' long time.

More to the point, I traced the vintage pattern (Simplicity 3302), I cut out fabric, I made self-fabric bias tape, I marked the fabric and then I sewed the crew-neck vintage, dolman sleeve shirt.

Alas, my friends, the finished product sucks!

Don't worry for my mental stability. I'm totally ok that it sucks! Seriously, it's the pattern - it's not me.

What I love about this project is that I managed it, with enough energy, from start to finish. It actually only took 4 hrs. That's super fast for a top, IMO. Too bad it's unlikely that I'll ever wear it.

I won't show a photo. I mean, I cannot be seen at this point (my vanity prevents it). And the top, on my dress form, is an exercise in blandness. It might as well be a sweatshirt.

I made it in a stable black ponte (thank you Susan!), a lovely fabric that really didn't benefit from the design. What a beautiful, warm knit. BTW, if you have been sick for a while, and you're scarily pale at the best of times, do not wear black anywhere near your face. Egad. You know they say that black can wash you out. It is sadly not a myth.

But back to the pattern. And, more importantly, the experience.

Today, I decided to approach this project with maximal creativity and minimal limitations. Frankly, I opted not to care about all of the things that usually concern me. I actually just used the fabric (in its various phases of assembly) as a tool. When I didn't like the tightness of the neckline on the assembled garment, I cut an inch out of it, on the fly. Side seams? Serged off inches at a time. Back seam? Same deal. I made the sleeves and hem shorter than the pattern instructed. I lengthened the bust darts.

Effectively, I just kept trying it on (like a cook tasting her dinner as she makes it) and saying: Well, that's gotta go, or, I suppose I'll bias tape the neck instead of facing it. Why does anyone face anything? Really.

It was an exercise in creative freedom and I LOVED it. Energy plus experience plus confidence plus nonchalance, brought me tremendous pleasure.

Sure, it didn't produce a great end result, but I did get the thing to fit really well. It's just kind of ugly.

Alas, I couldn't mark the paper pattern (not that I'm too inclined to make this again) with my myriad changes. At a certain point, you cannot freestyle it and chronicle your experience simultaneously. The two activities are utterly at odds. Since I don't love the pattern, I'm not too concerned. Were I to make it again, I'd take careful notes and go more slowly.

I did remove about 6 inches of width below the bust to the hips. Even at the bust, I had to remove fabric.

I appreciate the darts and the visible arm seam (the result of the dolman / kimono cut on). But seriously, even on others (whose tops have worked out much more elegantly than mine), I'm kind of underwhelmed by the style in general. I mean, it's no peplum :-)

Interestingly, I didn't find the fitting to be particularly difficult. I might have increased the width, as well as the length, of the dart, just to provide more bust shaping, but the dolman top is a bit of a casual (dare I say sloppy??) look. It's not about precision in the arms. It's more about perfection of ease. And that perfection is entirely subjective - and based on one's own general shape.

At any rate, I'm happy to have had this day of sewing enjoyment. Lord knows I have more clothes than I know what to do with. So a learning experience, and a new challenge, have been just the thing.

All Over The Map (But with Talk of Sewing)

Today was a good day. I got myself to work (in a cab - cab it is for this week). I loved seeing all of my comrades. I didn't feel too terrible, though my energy did start to flag at 2 pm. I dug through the chasm of emails and administrivia that was hanging over me. I did leave earlier than usual but I managed. When I arrived home, I spent an hour on these arcane ablutions I've undertaken in the name of healing: steam bath, vitamins, gargling with salt water (usually makes me gag and spit choke?!), eating a bowl of half-thawed frozen blueberries (those antioxidants don't just hang out in the ether), lying over bolster (very gentle yoga) and - this takes the cake - the neti pot. Zut alors, I cannot begin to tell you how desperate I am to relieve the mucus situation. But I don't have to. Nasal irrigation says it all.

I'm starting to understand what took up all of my convalescent time. But gross things aside, I know I feel more normal because, instead of lying here in front of the TV, I have chosen to write to you about my next sewing project.

Next sewing project? Um, does this smack of getting ahead of oneself? Happily, not at all. Since I discovered that I prefer planning to practically anything else, the world is my oyster. As long as my brain has some juice, I can simply think about things and call it sewing! Sure, it's unlikely I'm going to tackle production for the next couple of weeks, but a girl can sit around and mentally ready herself.

A little back story: In early October, when I was really starting to feel hideous, I couldn't do much other than surf the net. That's when all of my fave blogs came in even handier than usual.  Jody posted about jersey patterns from the 50s, and I was blown away by her gorgeous finds. I spent a few minutes and - strangely easily - found many of the patterns she profiled on Etsy. I purchased Simplicity 3302:

It was very reasonably priced at under 15 bucks, including shipping. And I love how it's basically 2 pieces - a back bodice (with attached sleeve) - cut with a centre seam - and a front bodice (with attached sleeve) cut on the fold:

See those interesting sleeve and bust darts?

I bought a 34 bust (that's the size I found), with the intention to grade it up, as necessary. However, having measured the pattern, there appears to be a lot of bust ease (like 10 inches?!) I realize that this is a blouson style top, but if I make it in a knit (which I intend to do) I'm pretty sure it will be more than big enough. In fact, I may need to take some fabric out of this thing, to suit my shape (and modern proportions). Of course, who knows what's going to happen? I'm just giving my imagination free-rein.

I'm not sure I will face the neck - as the pattern calls for - or if I'll finish it with bias tape instead. The beauty of this thing is that there are but 2 pieces to concern myself with, and a few darts and a hem.

So, today's questions are:

• What do you think of this dolman-style pattern? I notice this shape is becoming popular amongst the sewists lately. Do you find it notably vintage, or kind of contemporary?

• Have you made this pattern and, if so, what are your thoughts?

• What do you think of those other pattern's Jody's profiled? They're awesome, IMO. I want them all!

In closing, and just to keep the "all over the map" concept alive and well, I hope that all East-coasters are able to stay safe, warm and dry. And if I figure out how to sleep for a few hours in a row tonight, the world will be looking ever finer, I'm sure.

Lady's Prerogative

Believe it or not, I could not find one sweater project on Ravelry, having a 7 or 8 and 11 gauge, for fingering weight yarn, that appealed to me in the slightest. I'm fussy about knitting projects. It's difficult to keep them from looking "crafty" and my love of making things is only equal to my distaste when things look like I made them.

Think about it. How often, in this generation, do you see a hand-knit sweater that doesn't seem vaguely bulky (even if it's knit in thin yarn), observably novel and, dare I say it, boxy? For a culture of lovers of the form-fit, somehow it's challenging to make a sweater that hugs the body in a modern (or even classic) way. I like to think I have a good eye for what will work on me to look a) flattering and b) timeless.

So far, the McCardell Convertible sweater is still my best bet.

(To switch gears, very slightly, are you aware of this book? Written by Claire McCardell, and published in 1955, it was hugely successful, though now it is out of print. No mind, an Amazon vendor will sell it to you for $320.00, before shipping, and I'm sure you can find it occasionally on Ebay or at a garage sale. Note: The copy I found on Ebay still cost over 100 bucks.

I would LOVE to own a copy. Even just to borrow one. Hopefully they'll bring it back and then we can all enjoy it.)

Back to the sweater - I've continued on and now I have a whole new set of concerns. For starters, there's no technical drawing so I have no idea of what I'm knitting at the moment. I mean, I know it's the "Left Half of Sweater", but despite my math, it looks like it's meant for a 'tween.

What I've learned about knitting is that I frequently have no idea of what I'm looking at until I'm 2/3 of the way through. I'm inclined to continue because, if it's going to be way off in terms of sizing, I'll confirm it at some point, and then decide whether to rip it back - or to give it to M.

Keep in mind that I have pages of musings to show that a) the size 32" chest (objectively very small, I realize), should knit at 36", given that my gauge is 1 stitch off per inch. As I've never knit a sweater - till the recent City Cardigan, Take 2, that didn't seem too big (if only slightly) I now aim for 3" of negative ease with every project. As my bust measurement is 37 - 37.5", 3" of negative ease means I want to knit something that comes to 34.5" at the full bust. By my calculations, this thing should currently be bigger than I want it to be. Sure, my plan may fail, but these things can fail for so many reasons. From past experience, it's a risk I'm willing to run. And you know how I end up making everything twice, to perfect the fit on the second try. If only there were a schematic, to advise me about proposed dimensions at key places, I'd be on much more solid ground. Freakin' vintage designers?!?!?

Of course, the fact that this design has a surplice neckline, could work entirely against me. I sure as hell don't want gaping or excessive space between the V wrap.

I guess I'm in an interesting place. I truly don't know how this is going to shape up (literally), but no one else in the world, as far as I can tell, has written about making this sweater so I'm totally in uncharted territory.

Any advice? Commiseration?

On Casting On Stitches Mid-Project and Why I May Be About to Give "The Convertible" a Miss...

You'll recall I'm making this. More to the point, I've knit the same 30 rows 4 times in an effort to resolve a fairly omnipresent challenge: the loopy outer-edge-ugliness that is inclined to come of casting at stitches every row.

Briefly, the sweater is knit entirely in stockinette, on 2.75mm needles with fingering yarn. The pieces are knit bottom up to form a diagonal, so one casts on stitches many stitches to achieve that shape. This thing starts with a cast on of a mere 2 stitches, to give you a sense of how many stitches will be cast on as one knits upwards. Why I can't simply increase stitches every row (by knitting through the front and back loop - or some other method on the first and last stitches) is beyond me. That's what's produced the nicest finish, so far, but I sense the instructions would have told me to do that if it weren't to have some deleterious effect later in the project. Note to beginners: Casting on is different than increasing stitches.


What I've Tried:

First I backwards looped those mid-project cast ons (beginning and/or end of each row). Knitters will know that the looseness of backwards looping caused gaping holes at the edges.

Then I learned how to cable cast on, but found that it wasn't producing a very nice edge outer edge, though it worked fine on the centre back increases. There appeared to be too many purl bumps on the right side of the stockinette fabric.

Finally, I read a great post on TECHKnitting that talks about how to remove the large loops that come of backwards cast on. It involves backwards looping 2/3 of the stitches required and then using the extra yarn to create the final third of stitches when you knit or purl back on the other side of the fabric. Strangely, I've done this in the past without realizing it was a technique - though I really liked the final result.

My main problem is that I am only casting on 2 stitches at the end of every row. If it were 3, I'd have enough loop to make that third stitch fairly smoothly. As it is, I've got only the exact amount of yarn to produce the extra stitch and I'm having to create and then "knit" that stitch on a purl row.

Y'all know how I love to say I'm dexterous. Well, it's trying. At this rate, it should take me 300 years to knit this sweater.  Never mind that, here's the result and I don't particularly like it:

I really do hate stockinette edges.

Of course, the edges will be folded under and hemmed. But they're still going to look shitty, as far as I can tell.

So, thoughts or feelings? Should I just find another pattern on which to use this terrific yarn? I figure Ravelry will yield some gems if I search with terms for fingering yarn, 2.75 mm needles and a gauge of 7 or 8 and 11. Whatcha think?

Just Like Magic

I've been obsessed by the vintage magic blouse since I saw Casey's post and read a comment advising that there is a similar version to be found online.

So today I made it. Not as fast or intuitive as I thought it would be, but it wasn't hard to do:

I used the cotton jersey I bought to make a t shirt for the Spring Basics Palette. Not a t shirt, exactly, but it counts as part of the palette, as far as I'm concerned.

It looks much richer than I thought it would in this fabric. The drape is lovely and the little flower appliques are from NYC. I bought them when I was notions shopping with Mardel last year.

The back is weird:

That shawl shoulder thing is what gives the front its elegant lines, but I'm not sure about the back view. On me, it hangs better cuz I'm not covered in fabric for skin.

The thing is held together with three little snaps. You could easily use a pin or just let it hang open like a cardigan.


I didn't use my serger because I wanted a more vintage effect. I used applique scissors to trim the fabric close to the stitching and it worked fine. However, I was not looking for a fussy top with lots of slip stitching (that's what it calls for). I used my machine to top stitch everything. That means I can easily throw this in the washer and dryer on delicate.

Mary Richards Was Here

Oh, the hipster was nascent, but these patterns show she was alive and well...

1960s:


It seems strange that Simplicity 7866 isn't from the 70s, but 1967 is the year it debuted. This pattern is the 60s masquerading as the decade it would evolve into. Dipping its toe in, as it were. I suspect, though I don't limit myself in terms of the decades I choose to wear, the 70s is my natural habitat. I was born in 1970, after all.

But look at the pants here, slim and creased, and the skirt with its short, gentle A line... Never mind the capes, each one more awesome than the last. And, you probably don't know this, but years ago I bought a couple of yards of plaid (red tones on white) in thick wool which would make an awesome short version. Of course, I'll have to match the plaid which is why I haven't used the fabric in all the time I've owned it. Maybe this will be the kick in the ass I need to undertake that challenge? Lord knows, it's taking up a third of my fabric cupboard.

In its day, the woman who made this wardrobe was sharp. She worked in publishing or advertising. She ate at a little place on Right Bank where they respectfully called her Mademoiselle. She was on the Pill.

BTW, are those envelope sketches mega-skinny or what?? I'm vaguely disturbed by the relative calf circumference going on.

1970s:

And here we are at the last vintage pattern I have purchased (so far). Simplicity 7069 is a lace-insert slip with a twist - it's for stretch fabrics! Um, given that I've got a less-than-compact collection lingerie fabrics, I'm hoping I can figure out how to turn some of them into some stretchy slips.

The (theoretical) bonus of a slip made of stretch fabric is that I can make unaltered versions for friends. Stretch is infinitely more forgiving than woven lace or silk, for example. And it's on-the-cusp-of-disco groovy.

This is how I justify the purchase of another lingerie pattern, more specifically one to make slips. Work with me.

Thoughts? Feelings? Do you own either of these? Which vintage decade best defines your style (at least right now)? Do tell.

Elegant Problem

Does the vintage excitement here never end??

As it happens, a little while ago, I read Casey's post on some family-heirloom vintage patterns she recently received. This was one of the many gems:

Simplicity 4538, image courtesy of Casey's Elegant Musings

I was immediately enthralled. How chic, how body con, how (um) boxy in the construction. Those mid-century sewists really had it going on!

I searched online. I didn't find it. I even spoke with friends about this fascinating pattern I came across that's basically a square with holes for your head and arms. Just 2 seams! It went over well...

To compound the matter, Casey actually posted a photo of the finished garment today, and I almost climbed through the computer screen to snatch it from her then and there. (That sounds violent, I realize. I mean it only in the most pacific way.)

Oh, how I LOVE it!

It looks old fashioned, but not costume-y. It's got a great line. As a person of narrowish shoulders, it's just the kind of line that flatters me.

Fortunately, one of the commenters on Casey's latest post included a link to a similar vintage pattern: the Vintage Magic Blouse. I decided to spring for the pdf ($3.99 USD) and a minute later I had a new item for the metaphoric Sew List. Note that the pdf is just 2 pages of instruction. It doesn't include a bunch of 8.5x11 pages to tape together. It just tells you how to make the top, which includes some tubular knit having 54"circumference. (Note: Tubular knit is simply a width of fabric that's attached in a tube. That means it doesn't have any side seams. It's like a big cowl, if that makes any sense. Or a tube that a knitter would knit in the round.)

OK, I thought. I can get with this. I called a few of my usual stores in the garment district to ask about the availability of fabric that fits that description. Apparently, there's no challenge finding tube knits in that size range, but they're all variations on cotton aka t shirt knit aka not chic for a vintage garment!

Finally I asked the guy at King Textiles why I couldn't find myself a nice cashmere or merino. (I've noticed, in the past, the dearth of fine textiles in tube format.) And here's what he told me: You can't find tube fabric in luxe knits in Canada because, by and large, Canada doesn't mill fabric. It imports fabric.

Can you believe that cashmere tube knit is mega expensive to import and the demand just isn't that high? Honestly, the worst thing about living in Canada is trying to get stuff. You'd think we were in Australia. (Note to Australians: No offense! You're just kind of far away, and we're right here! All 12 of us.)

So, now my immediate life goal is to source some luxurious fabric having the kind of drape that will lend itself to constructing the Magic Blouse.

Please help.

If you live in Europe or if you know of some Euro based online vendor - or even an US one that sells tube knit in high-end textiles - pls. advise. I'd love to know how to source this stuff.

The more I sew, the more I learn that I am only limited by the textiles available to me. And, being in the middle of a distribution wasteland, I have to expand my horizons.

Time Traveling

I received my Blue Gardenia package of vintage patterns, which I bought recently during the 30% off sale. Wow.

Those of you who know me well, know that I am endlessly fascinated by things of other eras. I love shopping for vintage clothes because I believe the pieces are invested with the experience of another time. Don't get me wrong. I'm not particularly nostalgic. I don't think that time is better than this time. But it was and there's an energetic current between then and now and I love the idea that those two times can merge in modernity.

Let's face it: modernity is just another word for tomorrow's olden days.

As I was filtering through the 8 zillion pattern's on Denise's site, I narrowed my search to those with a 36 or 37 inch bust; they had half size patterns back then, for petites, which is how one finds sizing in the odd sized bust measurement.

In truth, I'm not much into the 30s and 40s patterns. I do find some of them spectacular - and time was, the best vintage clothing you could find (and it was plentiful in the shops) was from the 40s. But I always feel I'm playing to type in the 40s silhouette.

I kept it to the 50s, 60s and 70s, searching for wearable items. Nothing frothy and delicious, but with limited application. I intend to bring these garments to life on a regular basis.

So, let's get started on the tour, yes? Today we'll focus on the earliest patterns I purchased.

The Fifties:

McCall's 9805, from 1954, will assist me in my very firm intention to resuscitate the culotte. Not as silly as a skirt, not as intense as a pair of pants, culottes are the perfect solution for a day on the town! They look great with boots, in a winter fabric. Cute with a short heel sandal or ballerina flats in spring and summer. They have not gone out of fashion. They've just been sleeping in the recesses of our collective memory. Admit it: you want some!

Intriguingly, this pattern is from the first wave of those made with printed pieces (see The First Printed Pattern imprint). Before this, pieces were made with perforations to delineate instructions. As I am, frankly, afraid of those, this is my kind of 50's pattern.

It's starting to occur to me that I was so fixated on getting the right bust size, that I didn't pay any attention to the corollary waist and hip sizes. Fortunately in this pattern, the waist is 30" and the hips are 39". Alas, for the dress below, the waist is 28". Gonna have to work on that.

Butterick 8628, also from the 50s though the precise year is not identified, is another printed pattern, a whimsical "quick 'n easy" day dress. Oh, look, it's got a cowl neck. What a surprise! While "quick 'n easy" - it's not "light on fabric". This thing takes 6 yards of 35" width. (There's no mention of 60" width fabric on the envelope. Did it even exist, back then?) The dress has a waist stay, which seems very authentic.

The bodice is cut on the bias, the way many cowl neck bodices are. Intriguingly, the construction of this bodice is exactly the same as that on Vogue 8413, the dress I intend to make from the Spring Basics Palette.

Do you suppose one has to wear a crinoline (or some kind of voluminous slip) to get the skirt to fall that way?

What do you think of these? Which do you prefer? Do you have anything to add about the pedigree of these? Have you had the pleasure to sew with vintage?

Next up, the 60s!