Whenever I am working with vintage fabric, it seems I either have more yardage than I need or, more frequently, less than I need. I have learned over the years there is usually a way to work around having less fabric than I really need. I just have to get creative. And that’s what I did when I made this dress.
I quickly determined there was no way I could get the dress I wanted by placing the pattern on the lengthwise straight-of-grain. The flare of the skirt, which I wanted to be mid-calf, precluded any notion of such a layout. At 45” wide, I knew I could just get the dress length I wanted if I laid out the pattern on the cross-grain, from selvedge to selvedge. Linen is a very stable fabric, so I was confident the cross-grain would work. In addition, there were no directional limitations in the floral design of the fabric. Barely fitting my pattern – from shoulder to hem – on the fabric from selvedge to selvedge, however, would leave no extra fabric to turn up for the hem – or even to face the hem. I decided to worry about that later. First I wanted to determine how I could get the four pieces for the dress and the two lengthened sleeves placed on the fabric, keeping in mind three important things: 1) although this was not a fabric to be matched per se, the all-over design of the fabric needed to be on the same plane in contiguous seams; 2) I wanted to space out the larger floral motifs so the dress would be balanced as best as possible (looking critically at the dress I made when I was 23, I clearly could have given this more thought!); and 3) I wanted to avoid large demonstrative blooms at the bust. Then, and only then, would I worry about the hem.
Once I was happy with this placement, I had a eureka moment when I knew I could accomplish two things with a simple bias trim made from the yardage of deep pink linen which coordinated nicely with the floral. 1) I could preserve the full 45” of cross-grain length by applying bias trim to the hem edge instead of turning it under, and I could do the same with the sleeves. And 2) the trim would add interest to the dress, just as I had vaguely imagined. (A quick aside here – I have ample yardage of the solid deep pink linen to make a coordinating coat at some point. Every dress needs a coat, right?)
I underlined this dress in a very lightweight, pre-washed, cotton batiste, then I lined it in Bemberg rayon. Moygashel linen washes beautifully, as does Bemberg lining, which is why I chose Bemberg over silk for this dress. I eliminated the neckline facing, choosing instead to bring the lining up to the edge of the neckline seam, then under-stitching it to secure that edge in place.
I chose to do a hand-picked, lapped zipper, an application which I think looks so lovely. Interestingly, I hand-picked the zipper in the dress I made in 1973, although it is a centered application.
When it came time to apply the bias-cut trim to the hem and sleeves, I had to experiment around a bit. I didn’t want it too wide, but it needed to be substantial enough to look like it was meant to be and not an afterthought or decision made in desperation! I finally settled on an exposure of 1/2”.
Now this is where it gets interesting. A few weeks ago I saw a vintage dress on a Facebook/Meta post by Xtabay Vintage Clothing Boutique. It is obviously Moygashel linen (I can tell by its weave and color), but what really caught my eye were the bias strips and low-profile bows adorning its sleeves. I tucked this idea in the back of my mind for future consideration. What I didn’t know was that the future was right around the corner! Yes – I “borrowed” this idea and added a single bias-cut bow to each sleeve. Somehow, it just seems to finish the dress.
Well, you may have guessed by now the reason for making this dress this year. I will wear it next week when my husband and I celebrate our 50th Wedding Anniversary. I have changed a lot in those 50 years (and so has my husband!), but I still love pink in all its shades and I still love Moygashel linen (and I still love my husband, too!)
Is It a Trench Coat – or Is it Not?
It is not. However, I am quite sure this classic look from 1974 was inspired by the classic Trench Coat as we know it.
I am certain this Vogue pattern is from 1974, as it is featured in that year’s July/August issue of Vogue Pattern Book Magazine. It is part of a section entitled NEW ARRIVALS.
The caption tells me it is made in silk shantung, a little bit of information unknown to me when I decided to make my (new) version of it in silk taffeta.
Interestingly, in the same NEW ARRIVALS section, a dress by Patou also is reminiscent of Trench coat style, with its epaulets, slotted pockets with shaped flaps and a belted waist. It also has a center back inverted pleat.
Fast forward two years and here is a very classic Trench in the 1976 September/October issue of Vogue Pattern Book Magazine.
The caption reads: “Come rain, come shine, what more liveable coat than the trench! All that star reporter elan in epaulets, front & back shields, center back inverted pleat.” This particular pattern also includes a detachable lining for the coat and additional detachable collar. I believe that is the collar you see in red in the above picture from the magazine. The thumbnail drawings of the pattern are helpful in seeing these details:
Now, hang onto your hats and fast forward 46 years to 2022. The Trench Coat, despite being in fashion since the 1940s, is apparently enjoying new attention and reimagination according to an article in the Style & Fashion section of The Wall Street Journal, April 23-24, 2022. Although I am a little doubtful as to the long-lasting appeal of some of the Trench Coat variations shown and suggested in the article by Katharine K. Zarrella – which include a skirt, pants and a corset (really?) – some of the reflections and thoughts on Trench Coat style by various fashion insiders are worth sharing.
Michael Kors is quoted as saying: “A trench coat inherently feels like an old friend that makes you feel very secure… But you want an old friend to surprise you.” (Pink checks, anyone?)
Jane Tynan, author of a soon-to-be-released book entitled Trench Coat, says the appeal of the Trench to contemporary women is the “danger and sensuality it conveys.” (Think spies and clandestine meetings.) However, a certain Loa Patman of Boston, Massachusetts, says, “Anything trench-inspired tends to look somewhat pulled together and professional.”
Well, I don’t expect to be doing any sleuthing in my Trench-inspired Christian Dior design from 1974, but I do aspire to feel “pulled together” while wearing it. Right now it is anything but pulled together, as you can see from the photos of my “work in progress”.
Thinking further about the origins – and definitional category – of this particular design from the House of Dior, it seems to me to be a cross between a dressmaker coat and a Trench. Perhaps “Dressmaker Trench” might be the best description. As you will recall, if you follow this blog, I have referred to “dressmaker coats” before. Fairchild’s Dictionary of Fashion describes it as: “A woman’s coat designed with softer lines and more details than the average coat. May have a waistline and unusual details, e.g., tucks or pleats.” (p. 92, ibid.)
I’m not sure Dressmaker Coat is a descriptor many use anymore, but it certainly is useful. One thing I am quite certain of, once this Trench-inspired Dressmaker Coat is finished – it promises to stand the test of further time. I anticipate it as a staple in my Spring and early Summer wardrobe.
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Filed under Christian Dior, Coats, Dressmaker coats, Fashion commentary, Mid-Century style, Silk taffeta, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s
Tagged as Dressmaker coats, fashion sewing, sewing, silk, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns, Wall Street Journal Fashion coverage