Perhaps many of you are familiar with this famous quote from Edith Head (American costume designer, 1897-1981): “A dress should be tight enough to show you’re a woman and loose enough to prove you’re a lady.” When it comes to tunic tops, my very inelegant redo of that quote is: “A tunic should be fitted enough to not be baggy and loose enough to be able to get into it.” I find that combination to be a difficult task. Let’s see how I did with this one:
When I saw this pretty fabric on Emma One Socks’s website, I just knew I needed to purchase a length of it. All cotton, it is finely woven and silky soft. Originally, I thought I would make a dress, but when it arrived, I saw it as a tunic top, trimmed in pink, of course. I have a couple of tunic patterns, but I went back to this one because the front opening is longer than most, making it easier to get on and get off.
The interesting thing about this pattern is that there is no fastener/button indicated for that long opening. I’m not sure how one would keep a degree of modesty – or even keep the tunic properly on one’s body – without a button or at least a hook and eye. More about that later.
There are a couple of features of this pattern I like, besides that long opening in the front. It has shoulder darts in the back, which I always find add just a little necessary fitting finesse.
I also like the way the front facing is constructed, and the width of the stand-up collar. However, the pattern lacks slimming darts in the back. My limited experience with sewing tunics has taught me that without long defining fisheye darts in the back, my tunic is going to be baggy and look like a sack. So, I added them.
I also shortened the sleeves, as I prefer a length just below the elbow, and I took out some of the width of the “trumpet.” Even with a narrower sleeve, I knew turning up a hem on it would result in a less than smooth finish. To get around this, I took the pattern piece for the bottom panel for the long sleeve (shown on the pattern), flipped it, narrowed it, and shortened it to give me a facing which would be a perfect fit into the lower curve of the sleeve.
Back to that front opening: when sewing the facing on, I added a loop to the right side so that I could strategically place a button to keep the gap closed. On this fabric, it seems hardly noticeable, but oh my, is it necessary!
One of the beauties of tunics is there are no rules on how trim is applied or placed or even if it is used. I had purchased two widths of Petersham ribbon for use on this garment, fully intending on using two rows to echo the front opening. However, I determined that would be too much. Instead, I used the narrower ribbon on the collar and as the second row around the hem and the side slits. The sleeves seemed to look better with the wider width of ribbon. The ribbon adds a degree of stability to the hem, especially, which helps the tunic to hang properly.
By the way, sewing all that Petersham ribbon on is helped immensely by the use of Dritz WashAway adhesive tape.
Obviously I have not washed this tunic yet, but in its first laundering the tape securing the ribbon will, indeed, wash away. I expect a softer appearance of the ribbon at that point, which seems to have a few waves in it at present.
Pictures often are the best way to check fit on a garment (even after multiple try-ons to fine-tune it), and I was pleased with the final, slightly fitted, non-baggy appearance of this tunic. In other words, it does not look like a sack! It is easy to slip on, less so getting it off, but still very manageable. (Sometimes a side zipper can be – or needs to be – added to help with this task of dressing and undressing. The abbreviated length of this example precluded that option.)
I’m not sure what Edith Head would have thought about tunics, if anything (!), but I am thinking positively about this one.
A Book Review: The Dress Diary of Mrs. Anne Sykes – Secrets from a Victorian Woman’s Wardrobe, by Kate Strasdin.
Every once in a while, I find myself having fallen under the spell of a particularly noteworthy and engaging book. Such was my fate with this remarkable story of an Englishwoman (1816 -1890) and her journal of fabric swatches, saved from her own life and collected from family, friends, and acquaintances over the course of decades, beginning in September of 1838.
With over 1200 fabric entries, the diary – or journal – gradually revealed its secrets to the author, a fashion historian, who painstakingly transcribed the often sparse notations accompanying each fabric sample, piecing together the fascinating life and times of Anne Burton Sykes. The research is meticulous, and the author, Kate Strasdin, shares her eureka moments which allowed her to expand not only Anne’s life, but those of her friends and family as well. Written in an engaging style, this non-fiction book often reads like a novel, a wonderful story of love, friendship, adventure, and vibrant personalities.
There is so much to learn here about Anne’s life in the larger context of world history and events, but it is the personal experiences and expressions which spoke so loudly to me. Yes, there are many details which, by the nature of the journal, must be extrapolated and surmised, which the author is careful to note. But the picture of Anne – and her husband Adam – which evolves is one of two very likeable people, engaged in their community, industrious and thoughtful, friendly and adventurous, and undoubtably well-dressed.
The first entries in the journal, of Anne’s wedding attire, were actually placed and annotated by Adam. He was the one to give Anne the journal on their wedding day. He refers to her as “my charming Anne.” Not beautiful, not sweet, not dear, but “charming.” That single selection of adjective spoke volumes to me about each of them.
She also must have been brave, enduring a four-month sea voyage from northern England to Singapore, where Adam’s business took them two years after their marriage. There they built a life among other English-speaking neighbors and acquaintances, in the stifling heat and humidity of the south China sea. After seven years in Singapore, they went on to Shanghai for two years (where the diary goes silent for the duration), and then back to England.
Anne’s friendships with other women throughout her life are apparent in the swatches she receives from so many in her circle. The exchange of gifts and tokens of friendship take form in dress-goods (cotton, wool, silk), ribbons, pieces of lace, and snippets of sashes. There appeared to be a remarkable camaraderie among all ages and between the sexes.
The author has done a masterful job in deciphering the life and persona of Mrs. Anne Sykes through so many diverse fabric swatches. Anne’s kindness, her circumspection, her devotion to family and friends, and her small place in history make for a wonderful, enlightening story. I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to read and savor this book.
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