Gingham fabric has been around for a long, long time. Since the early 17thcentury to be exact, although the look of the fabric has changed considerably since those days. The word “gingham” is from a Malay word “gingang” which means “with space between,” hence, striped. Yes, originally gingham was a striped fabric. It appears that it became a checked fabric sometime in the mid 1700s, and of course, that is how we think of it today.
Gingham has a fresh, timeless appeal to it, and the iterations of it are countless. The size of the checks can be absolutely miniscule or large and prominent.

Each check in this gingham is only a couple of threads wide. I do not have an example of a really large checked gingham, but you can surely visualize it.
There are two types of gingham; the entry in The Fairchild Dictionary of Fashion (Third Edition, by Charlotte Mankey Calasibetta and Phyllis Tortora; Fairchild Publications, Inc., New York, New York, c2003, page 209) explains it beautifully: “Checked ginghams are two-colored effects made by using two colors, or one color and white, for groups of yarns in both the lengthwise and crosswise. Plaid ginghams are yarn-dyed designs of several colors.”
And do you know what zephyr ginghams are? “Zephyr ginghams,” according to Fairchild’s “are made with fine, silky, mercerized yarns.” Obviously both checked and plaid ginghams can be zephyr ginghams.
And indeed, it was a zephyr plaid gingham which I used for my most recent blouse:


I purchased this fabric at the same time I ordered the fabric for my lavender gingham blouse. I still had the “blouse bug,” so I decided to go for it! I made a few tweaks to the pattern; specifically I added a tapered half inch to the lower half of the sleeves, to give me a little more ease in rolling them up. Of course, this meant I needed to add a half inch to the diameter of the cuffs. I also increased the length of the sleeve vent by about 1.25 inches. I find these changes just add a bit more finesse to the wearing of this blouse, which is super comfortable anyway.


I kept the center back pleat, as it just makes this blouse so comfortable to wear, especially on a hot summer day.
Now, do you see that double navy blue line at the center front?

That is a mistake. I thought I had calculated the grid of the plaid correctly to have a continuous pattern across the front of the blouse. About halfway through its construction, I discovered I had calculated incorrectly. At that point I did not have enough fabric left over to cut out two – or even one – new fronts, so my fate was sealed. Now I know what I did wrong, and hopefully I won’t make that mistake the next time I make a gingham blouse. (And there will be a next time, but probably not this year.)

This is a blue jean kind of blouse!
Being a button aficionado, I of course searched again for the right buttons for this blouse. I thought about using these vintage pearl buttons with their square motif. However, at 5/8” wide, they were just too big.
I finally admitted to myself that buttons on a blouse like this should not be the focal point; they should be delicate and discreet – which led me to this card of vintage buttons in my collection:

These buttons are 3/8″ in diameter.
The luminosity of the pearl in these buttons actually picks up the pink in the plaid in a very subtle way – and they are definitely discreet.

I used the spread collar again for this blouse.


I love any excuse to wear pink shoes!
Well, I don’t want to end this post without giving you a few more fun facts on gingham. Did you know that “gingham” was a colloquial term for an umbrella in the 19thcentury? Again, according to Fairchild’s Dictionary (page 462), “so called because the less expensive types were made out of gingham fabric.”
And who doesn’t know that Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz wore a blue gingham dress? Or that Brigitte Bardot wore a pink gingham wedding dress (which led to a shortage of this fabric in France, according to Wikipedia)?
If you have not recently read the classic poem by Eugene Field (1850-1895), “The Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat,” it might be time to reacquaint yourself. Here is how it starts: “The gingham dog and the calico cat, side by side on the table sat.” Just the mention of the fabrics creates a mental picture of what is to ensue between these two!
There are few fashion references to gingham that are noteworthy, save for this one from interior designer Kelly Wearstler, “The best thing I ever bought is a vintage Oscar de la Renta short gingham dress that I wore to my rehearsal dinner the night before my wedding.”
And finally, this from Christian Dior on “checks” (The Little Dictionary of Fashion, by Christian Dior, Harry N. Abrams, New York, New York, 2007, page 21): “I love checks. They can be fancy and simple; elegant and easy; young and always right…. They are always in fashion … and there are so many styles of checks to choose that there will be one to suit every age and figure.”

Feeling happy about this blouse despite that center front mistake.
From “always right” cotton gingham, I now head to another “always right,” forever, classic motif: polka dots – in silk! New month, new project. Happy July, everyone!
A White Blouse
White blouses (or shirts, if you prefer) seem to occupy a niche all to themselves in the annals of fashion. There is something both unpretentious and elegant about a white blouse. A white blouse is almost always noticed and admired, and even the most tailored white blouse has an air of femininity to it.
Here is what Christian Dior had to say about the color white when he wrote The Dictionary of Fashion in 1954: “White is pure and simple and matches with everything. For daytime it has to be used with great care because it must always be really white and immaculate… But nothing gives the impression of good grooming and being well dressed more quickly than spotless white…” (Published again in 2007 by Abrams, New York, New York; page 120).
What could be a better example of being well dressed than this white blouse featured in the February/March 1955 Vogue Pattern Book Magazine (page 28)? With its tucks and French cuffs, it is both demure and sophisticated.
Now this is an elegant blouse!
Timeless is another description that could be given to the classic white blouse. Here is one featured in the August/September 1962 Vogue Pattern Book Magazine, page 49. “In suburbia, nothing has as much unstudied elegance as a classic neat, white shirt…”
By the 1970s, collars look like they had overtaken the world, but even with its outsized points, the white blouse gives this velvet suit its focal point:
This is an advertisement for Crompton velvet, featuring a Vogue pattern (Yves St. Laurent evening suit), page XVI of the October/November 1971 Vogue Pattern Book Magazine.
The Wall Street Journal had a full-page feature on The White Shirt in the Weekend Section of March 26-27, 2016. “Always timely and the quickest shortcut to chic,” says the caption. Part of the feature is shown here:
Although the article fixated on RTW white shirts, a small section was absolutely apropos for those of us who make our white shirts. Finding your Match maintains that there is a certain chemistry involved in finding the perfect shirt for oneself, and it emphasized the importance of choosing the right fabric. While cotton is usually the preferred fabric, even it is subject to an appropriate quality and weave. Choosing a pure cotton fabric will necessitate a commitment to laundering and ironing. Quoted from the article, “You can throw it in the machine, but for a finished look, Ms [Carolina] Herrera (who has made the white shirt her style signature) recommends hand-washing with a splash of starch for a crisp finish. The white shirt, remember, is about contradictions – it may be easy, but it has good manners.” (Oh, yes!)
Well, I can’t say I was thinking about chemistry and laundering and manners when I purchased this white cotton shirting fabric from Britex a few years ago.
I just thought it was so lovely with its woven stripe and scalloped detail. I am happy to say it has been brought to fruition as a classic white blouse.
While the woven stripe IS lovely, it presented some definite considerations when I was laying out my pattern. For example, what reveal of the stripe did I want to show on the collar and cuffs. What about the back yoke? How should the buttons line up on the design on the center front? The following pictures detail my decisions as I worked through each component.
I chose to use the plain white band as the center portion of the cuffs.
I chose to position the stripe on the collar in the middle.
I decided to interface the yoke, as the cotton is lightweight, and the facing of the yoke would have shown through without it. I always use a woven, sew-in interfacing when I am making blouses. It works beautifully. I evenly balanced the placement of the stripe on the yoke, with just a slight plain reveal noticeable at the lower edge.
And then, what buttons should I use? It is so easy – and often appropriate – to choose a simple white pearl, two-hole button to accompany this style of shirt. I was prepared to do that until I came across this card of vintage buttons in my collection:
My first thought was, “How perfect! The incised stripes on the buttons mirror the stripe in the cotton. And, to seal the deal, they were also the perfect size, at 3/8”.
I used the same 1970s’ Simplicity pattern (with my many alterations to it) that I used for the two gingham blouses I made over the summer.
It is always satisfying to use a fabric which had been purchased – in the past, shall we say? It reinforces my thought that there is a time for all those lovely pieces of silk, wool, cotton and linen still waiting for their destination. Perhaps it really is about chemistry, after all.
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Filed under Blouses, Buttons - choosing the right ones, Fashion commentary, Fashion history, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage buttons
Tagged as Britex Fabrics, Choosing buttons, fashion sewing, quotes about fashion, sewing, vintage ads for fabrics, Wall Street Journal Fashion coverage, white shirt