It all started with a chair. Well, maybe not. My yearning for a coat made from a western-style blanket actually started inside the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. For those of you unfamiliar with Pendleton Woolen Mills, here’s the (abbreviated) scoop on this great American company.
An English weaver by the name of Thomas Kay made his way to Oregon in 1863. (Think about that for a minute!) His descendants, the Bishop family, built upon the weaving foundation Kay established and started Pendleton Woolen Mills in Pendleton, Oregon in 1909. In its first decade, the company produced colorfully patterned blankets and robes for local Native American tribes, thereby setting a brand distinction for the company. In 1916, Pendleton introduced the Glacier National Park blanket, the start of a wide-ranging series of National Park products. (New blankets and designs are still being added to this line today.) In 1924 the company introduced its first line of apparel – men’s woolen shirts – followed over the coming decades by women’s apparel and expanded offerings in apparel, home furnishings and of course, blankets. At the heart of the product lines is a commitment to American craftsmanship, the embrace of Native American design, and pride in its family ownership over six generations. Their products are available in their retail stores, on the web, and by printed catalog.
Back to the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. Their women’s offerings always showcase several coats, jackets, and ponchos made from Native American inspired blankets (and made in the USA, for extra good measure). They are gorgeous and distinctive and classic. So much so, that a few years ago my daughter purchased one (with a little $ help from Mom.)
She already had a stunning Pendleton wool poncho, a gift from her husband. As we all know, one can never have too much outerwear, right? Well, all this American craftsmanship and design and head-turning apparel of course started me looking at Pendleton blankets-turned-coats from the viewpoint of one who sews – and one who thinks “I could make one of those!”
The seed was planted, waiting for germination.
With my existing sewing queue already groaning under its own weight, I deferred action on this idea indefinitely. And then, in late August of 2025, I found an Old Hickory small hoop chair (another great American company known for its craftsmanship) in a consignment store.

I purchased the chair with the knowledge I would need to change the upholstery on the seat back. (The seat is covered in leather, which is perfect for our household which includes two cats prone to some scratching.)
I was already familiar with examples of Old Hickory hoop chairs upholstered in Pendleton blanket wools, as shown here:
Of course, the wheels started turning in my head, and I made a stop at the Pendleton store to look at blankets. One jumped out at me for its colors and design.
Could I possibly get two projects out of one twin sized blanket (the only size produced in this design)? The chair seat back AND a jacket? I thought so but it would be tight – and a gamble at the price point. Not one to shy away from a sewing challenge, I purchased the blanket. This was either going to be a very expensive upholstered seat back OR a “twofer” bargain which would give me both a new look for my chair and a one-of-a-kind jacket. I figured I would know my fate sometime over the course of the next several months.
The first step was to get the chair and the blanket to an upholsterer, which I did. Relinquishing the blanket to him, I explained my intention of making a jacket out of the leftover wool. He looked at me dubiously.
“I sew a lot,” I explained.
He still looked at me dubiously. I talked with him about the layout for the seat back. I hoped, I said to hm, that he could just take from one end of the blanket, leaving about two thirds of it intact? He nodded in understanding. He said he would do what he could. I’m sure he thought I was crazy.
The upholsterer is a busy guy, so it took several weeks before the chair was ready. But when he returned it to me, not only did it look terrific, but the remainder of the blanket was about the length I thought it would be. I was hopeful.
By now it was October, very close to the time when we depart our summer home in Wyoming and head back to Pennsylvania, a time when all sewing comes to a screeching halt as I pack and organize and clean. The timing turned out to be perfect, however, as most of my vintage patterns were in Pennsylvania – and I needed to look for a jacket pattern for my project.
I knew any pattern I selected had to be one with fairly simple lines and adaptable to being unlined. Pendleton blankets are beautifully heavy and warm, perfect for cozy sleeping. Made into coats and jackets they are also heavy and warm, but better suited to styles with few darts, notches and complex seaming. Luckily I had a pattern in my collection, dated 1959, which appeared to be perfect – with a shaw collar, raglan sleeves, and 2 long darts descending from the shoulder to the bust.


I was on my way to my very own Pendleton jacket. At least that was what I hoped!
To be continued…







































































































Going Around in Circles
When I purchased this sateen, jacquard-woven fabric from Mendel Goldberg a couple of years ago, I wasn’t sure what it would eventually become. It had a wide repeat to the design (which is something to consider when you know you are facing considerable matching of the design), but it was a lovely 60” wide. I bought just 2 yards (it was expensive) and hoped I would have enough fabric to finagle something.
First I thought I would make a midi-skirt to wear with a pretty silk blouse or something. I even got so far as to make a muslin for a longish skirt, but it just wasn’t going to work. I didn’t have enough fabric to match the design and create the skirt I wanted. The next task would be to find a dress pattern which would work. I kind of viewed this fabric as a good Fall and Spring transition weight, so I wanted sleeves. And I wanted a pattern which would show off the circle design to its best effect. One of the patterns in my collection which I have seemed to dwell on frequently is this one:
I like the styling of both the dress and the coat. I thought I’d take a stab at eyeballing the pattern on my fabric, to see if it might work. Well, it was going to be a squeaker, but I thought I could manage to get the dress out of the yardage I had – and match all those circles and dots as much as possible.
One thing I had to consider was the placement of the large dots and the smaller dots on my body. Working with dots can be a little tricky – you certainly don’t want prominent dots on top of each bust apex, for example, and a row of large dots around the waist might not be all that flattering. I thought the row of the largest dots would be best as an anchor at the hemline. That would place the wide band of smaller dots just over the waistline and somewhat below. This configuration would place one medium size dot over one bust, but I was okay with that since the dot on the other side was off to the side, and therefore not symmetrical. I also liked the repeat row of largest dots across the upper chest where they were not too obvious. And – the sleeves followed the line of varying size dots in a pleasing manner, I thought. It turned out, I had just enough fabric to get things lined up properly – except for the front facing. No way could I match that to the front of the dress.
Now, obviously the facing does not show on the right side of the dress. Still, I like to match across seams if possible. Which it wasn’t. I had to give myself permission to have a mismatched facing, and then I moved on. (I forgot to take a picture of the facing, unfortunately.)
A word or two about the fabric before I go on. According to Fairchild’s Dictionary of Fashion, (Third edition, by Charlotte Mankey Calasibetta and Phyllis Tortora, Fairchild Publications, Inc., New York, New York, c2003, page 395) sateen is a “smooth glossy cotton fabric made in the sateen weave with floating crosswise yarns on the right side, giving a lustrous finish.” This fabric is a combination of cotton sateen, with circles created by a damask weave on a jacquard loom. It makes for a striking fabric. And I think the fact it is done in navy blue makes the contrast more definitive. Christian Dior was a fan of navy blue, calling it “the only one [color] which can ever compete with black, it has all the same qualities.” (The Little Dictionary of Fashion, Abrams, N.Y., 2007, page 14). It is a wonderfully versatile color.
I made a few changes to the pattern. I cut the neckline a little wider, I shortened the sleeves by a couple of inches, and the big change was I lined the dress in a lovely silk batiste I purchased at Farmhouse Fabrics. (The pattern did not have instructions or pattern pieces for a lining.) The pleat in the front of the dress was a bit tricky to line, but I figured it out after quite a bit of thought. By the way, I underlined the dress with silk organza.
One more thing about the pattern and the dress. With the pleat in the front of the dress which extends to the hem, it gives the appearance of a coat dress. However, it is not. Again Fairchild’s gives us a precise definition of a coat dress: “Dress fastened down front from neck to hem, like a coat, in single- or double-breasted style, either belted or unbelted. A classic since the 1930s.” ibid., page 84. Someday I’ll make a coatdress, but this was not it.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I made this dress to wear on my Paris trip, but alas, I never had the opportunity to do so. I feel certain it will eventually get its debut, but not in Paris!
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Filed under Buttons - choosing the right ones, Christian Dior, Fashion commentary, Loops for buttons, Mid-Century style, Polka dots, Sateen, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, Vogue patterns
Tagged as Choosing buttons, Farmhouse Fabrics, fashion sewing, Mendel Goldberg Fabrics, polka dots, sewing, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns