Category Archives: Vogue patterns

Chance of Sprinkles

Whatever possessed me to decide to make a coat during this hot, hot Summer?

Actually, I have a (somewhat logical) answer to that question!  For starters, it’s a raincoat.   And how I came to sew a raincoat is a good example of what keeps the wheels in my head turning!

While perusing the website for Britex Fabrics last Summer, I came across its offerings of rainwear fabrics.  Just out of curiosity, I took a look at them, and I was immediately smitten with the “French Winter White Water-Resistant Rainwear Fabric”.

The woven “wave” design in this fabric really caught my attention.

I sent off for a swatch, which confirmed for me the graceful woven design and lovely creamy color inherent in this fabric.  A subsequent trip to California gave me the opportunity to see the fabric in person, and I decided it was time to “commit”!  I had frequently felt the need for a “dressy” raincoat, so I thought, “Why not make one?”  I also knew I had the perfect pattern  – this “swing” coat design from 1957.

I remember swing coats from my childhood – and now I have one!

I figured the kimono sleeves and the loose fit would be great for wearing over  dresses or suits, and the collar can be worn turned up or folded down, depending on the inclement conditions!  Well, it only took a year to get to it, which I decided was long enough.  Oh yes –  I had one more incentive to “get to it”. When my friend, Nancy C. opened up her family’s button box for me to pick out some treasures, I spied this beautiful single glass button:

I placed this button on a piece of black velvet so that the design would show up. It is a little more than an inch square in size.

The design in it reminded me of raindrops – perfect for a dressy raincoat, and, I thought, a perfect complement to the fabric, already in my possession.

Of course, every pattern and project seems to demand certain changes or adaptations, and the count for this one stands at four:

1)   I took a little fullness out of the front side panels.  When I made a muslin mock-up of the pattern, it just seemed a little too full for my frame.

2)   I added pockets to the side seams.  I can’t imagine any coat without pockets, but a lot of the vintage styles (dresses and coats) did not have them.

Here is one of the pockets under construction.

3)   Because I wanted to use the glass button, I decided to put in a bound buttonhole instead of using the buckle and band detail as shown on the pattern. (I did make and attach the back belt, however.)

Here is the bound buttonhole placed in the front right section – before the facing is attached.

Here you can see the button and finished buttonhole. Click on the photo to see it in detail.

4)   With just a single closure at the top of the coat, I thought I needed something lower on the coat as well, to keep it closed in windy, rainy conditions. However, I didn’t want to interfere with the look of the coat when I might be wearing it open.  Here’s what I came up with:

I made a “tab” with buttonholes on each end.

I made machine buttonholes in the tab.

I placed the buttons for it on the inside facings on either side of the coat, about halfway between my waist and  my hips.  It can easily be buttoned to secure the coat, and when I unbutton the left side, the button on the right side allows it to fall down, hidden from view, but easily accessible.

This shows the inside of the coat, with the tab buttoned.

And this shows the tab unbuttoned on one side and hanging down, out of sight – inside the coat.

A few more details about construction:  The rainwear fabric is an acetate/rayon blend which I underlined with rayon voile.

Here is the coat, showing the underlining, before I attached the lining by hand.

I lined it with a pure silk lightweight twill in white.  I would have loved to have lined it with a neat polka dot silk, but I didn’t want any “shadows” of a printed lining to show through.  Guess I’ll just have to dress it up with polka dot scarves instead!  The rainwear fabric was very easy to work with – surprisingly easy, actually.  It drapes beautifully for a pattern like this.  Speaking of patterns, this one was so precise and cleverly engineered (especially the collar), turning it into a really fun project!

Here are some finished views of my new dressy raincoat:

More of the same…

Hopefully you can see the “belted” back in this view.

Making a garment like this during the Summer months means that I had to be prepared for “delayed gratification” as I probably won’t have a chance to wear my new raincoat for at least a couple of months.  However, when a future Fall or Winter forecast is for “Chance of Sprinkles” – or even full-force rain – I’ll be ready!

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Filed under bound buttonholes, Buttons - choosing the right ones, Coats, Dressmaker details, kimono sleeves, sewing raincoats, swing coats, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage buttons, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, Vogue patterns

Decisions, Decisions.

For several years my mother-in-law had a sign on her refrigerator stating “So many men… So little time”.  As a wife and a mother of three sons, I guess she was either telling the truth – or maybe doing a little daydreaming.  I don’t post things on my fridge, but if I did, it might read, “So many patterns… So many decisions”.  And that, too, would be a combination – of the truth – and quite a bit of daydreaming!

Usually as I am working on an item, I am already thinking about the next one – and I often know what pattern I’ll be using next.  However, I finished my silk tunic not quite decided yet.  I figured I was ready to tackle something a little more complicated, after the easy construction of the tunic (and a few days off doing other things!)  So what was it going to be?  I had it narrowed down to these five patterns/projects:

1) View B of this dress (for summer), made up in a Moygashel linen, with a contrasting belt.  This pattern has persistently been popping in my pattern box ever since I purchased it on Etsy  in early January.

The length of this dress as shown on the envelope is very 195os. I’ll be making it in knee-length.

2) No, this pattern is NOT vintage.  I signed up for The Couture Dress class taught by Susan Khalje on Craftsy, and this is the dress pattern which is sent with class enrollment.  Actually, views A and C both have a 1960’s feel to them – classic and chic!

So – what will it be? Sleeveless or short sleeves? It will definitely be the straight-skirt version. And I love the square neckline.

3) Ah, Molyneux!  Another short-sleeved dress to be made in linen.  The seaming detail is so lovely on this design.  I will have to practice my “pouty” look, however, if I hope to look an inch as good as the model on the envelope.

The kimono sleeves have gussets, which will make this dress comfortable to wear.

4) After missing out on several Diane von Furstenberg-designed patterns on eBay, I was very excited to find this one in my size on Etsy in mid-May.  What is it about D von F’s dresses that makes them so timeless?

I owned this pattern in the ’70s, when I bought it for $1.50 at my local fabric store. Sadly I didn’t save it or the dress I made from it, so I had to buy it again! I originally made it up with short sleeves, but now I prefer the sleeveless version.

5) I featured this pattern in a post shortly after I started my blog.  Whether you call this a “swing” coat or a “clutch” coat –  it’s 1950’s style has been in my mind for months!

I love this coat with the sleeves pushed up, as shown in blue.

The truth of the matter is that I will eventually be making dresses or a coat from all these patterns, but as I usually work on only one project at a time, I had to choose just one.  Which one?  It is underway as the thread- and scrap-covered floor of my sewing room will attest!  I made my decision . . . but I have many stitches to go – and many stitches to go – before I can post it.

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Filed under Coats, kimono sleeves, Linen, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

Destiny met – Pierre and me.

Back in November I wrote about finally locating some lovely pink and navy blue silk, which I had squirreled away after never making it up in the pattern I had purchased for it.  Both the fabric and that pattern date from the late 1980s, and I must have known even then that this beautiful silk deserved a better dress design than was available during that era of big shoulders and more big shoulders.

Pink and blue silk which I had never used.

So when I found this pattern in my size on eBay several months ago, it seemed destined to be interpreted in my pink and navy silk.

A Pierre Cardin design, circa 1970, in the Vogue Designer pattern series.

Specifically, I envisioned it made in the sleeveless version in pink, with a contrasting navy blue yoke (and without the side slits).  I had just the right yardage of navy silk to accomplish this feat, and plenty of pink.  Not only that, I knew an event was approaching when I would want to wear a dress of some elegance.  What could be more perfect than that?  The right fabric and pattern matched with incentive gets the project underway in a jiffy.  My affair with Pierre (as in Cardin) was about to begin.

(Interestingly enough, back on February 25, this article ran in The Wall Street Journal, featuring some Spring dress designs from Victoria Beckham.  Does the look of the pink and black dress seem familiar?):

A variation of the Pierre Cardin dress? No – a “new” design!

Well, as is often the case with sewing, nothing is quite as easy as it first appears.  The pattern called for an underlining and a lining.  (Hm-m-m-m, I thought, this could get time-intensive!)  Because I did not want to interfere with the fluidity of the silk fabric, I knew I needed an underlining fabric with minimal weight, but good stability.  I found just the perfect thing from Dharma Trading Co.:  rayon voile.   I ordered what I needed (and then some extra yardage for future projects), and it seemed like about two hours later it arrived.  Actually it was two days later, but considering it was being shipped across the continent from California to Pennsylvania, that’s what I call excellent service!

During those two days, I headed off to Joann Fabrics to find lining fabric, thread, zipper and hem tape.  I was delighted to find Gutermann silk thread in a pink which perfectly matched my fabric. While a pink lining fabric to match was sadly elusive, I went with a navy blue lining fabric instead.

I made the dress lining first, and it was kind of nice to have this part of the dress sewn and set aside until needed.  I did my normal basting of the underlining to the silk as shown here.

Basting on the bodice yoke.

The scallop detail called for stuffing with lambs wool, but I used two layers of drapery weight flannel instead.  This small section of the dress took a long time to complete.

This shows the underlining and the facing for the scallop detail.

Here is what the inside of the scallop part of the dress looked like before I attached the lining.

I put the zipper in by hand, and understitched the neck and arm facings by hand as well, to make a nice, neat finish.  The pattern called for the lining to be sewn in place by hand, so my fingers were certainly doing a lot of stitching!  About this time I was beginning to wonder why I always make things so complicated.  Here is the hand sewn zipper application.

I love the look of hand-sewn zippers!

Here is the front of the dress

. . . and here is the back.

When I purchased the pattern it came complete with a Vogue label, which I was only too happy to apply to the inside neck edge as the finishing touch!

You can also see the hand-sewn-in lining in this photo.

Yes – I completed the dress in time to wear for the intended event!

The good news, other than the fact that this dress is finished?  Two things – one being that I still have enough pink silk to make a skirt or a blouse, not sure which yet.  The other is that I can start another project now that my fling with Pierre is happily over!

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Filed under sewing in silk, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

Strawberry Season

It is strawberry season here in southeastern Pennsylvania right now – the juicy red berries are available at farmers’ markets and local farm stands, begging for attention with their vibrant green caps and happy demeanors.  Although the season is short for these local fruits, it just happens to be strawberry season all year ‘round at my house.

Several years ago (I think in February, 1999 – yes, I’d say that was several years ago!), there was a crafts feature on “strawberry pincushions” in Martha Stewart Living magazine.

Here is the page from Martha Stewart Living Magazine which featured these “strawberry pincushions.”

I was immediately smitten with these tiny treasures.  However, instead of pincushions, I envisioned them strictly as little woolen fruits to put in baskets and on display in various corners of my house.

A plump woolen berry, inspired by the feature in Martha Stewart Living Magazine.

I made three variants of the pattern, small, medium and large, with corresponding sizes of “caps” .  After a few trials and errors, I had a routine in place to make these little whimsies.  First I cut out quite a few of the “curved triangle berry pieces.”  Next I sew the side seams all on the machine.  Then, working on one at at time,  I hand sew a running stitch around the open top.  Next comes the stuffing, which is simple fiberfill, although they could be stuffed with wool roving or even cotton balls!    Once they are nicely stuffed, I pull the thread to close them up, secure with a knot, but leave the thread and needle attached.  Next comes the beading, which is totally at random, and so much fun to do!  Just poke through the fiberfill with the needle out onto the surface of the berry – one loop through a bead is all you need.  Go from one bead to another, rethreading as needed. For the first few I made, I followed the magazine directions for “French knot” seeds, but I’ve never been able to make French knots that I am happy with.  I really like the little bit of glimmer that the beads add to the berries – kind of like the real thing!  Then after the beading, I stitch the tops on, making “veins” with thread.  Before you know it, you’ve got a plump strawberry which will last forever!

Here is a gathering of some of my woolen berries, showing the various colors of wools I used. I couldn’t resist making some yellow berries.

A small basket brimming with woolen berries.

And a top-down view of the same basket.  You can see the “veining” in the berry cap on the far right.

By now I have made so many of these woolen berries that I gave up counting a long time ago.  I have given bunches of them as gifts, I’ve even sold a few, and I still make batches of them on and off throughout the year.   I save any little scrap of red, pink, green, tan and yellow wool to use for these berries.

Then, for a change of pace,  a few years ago I made a strawberry penny rug from a kit.

Unlike my woolen berries which hang out all year round on display here and there in my house, I usually only use this table-top penny rug during the summer season.

Here is a detail of the penny rug. The pattern called for French knot seeds, but I used simple short stitches instead.

While I love decorating with my berries, the strawberry motif doesn’t translate very well into classic wearable fashion  – or does it?  Here is some ribbon I have had stashed away since the early 1980s.

Red and green berries on a navy blue background.

Red and green berries on navy blue.

Here is a detail of the motif on the ribbon.

With just about 2¼ yards of length, I am thinking about making a semi-tailored hatband and bow from it.  Backed by a wide red grosgrain ribbon, I think it could be quite effective on the right wide-brimmed straw hat.

The red grosgrain ribbon sets off the strawberry ribbon quite well!

Finally, I can’t end this post without sharing this pattern from the early 1970s, which I have admired for decades.

From the Vogue Designer series, circa 1972.

When I had the chance finally to buy it in my size from Sew Vintage Ladies, an Etsy shop, I pounced!  While I usually do not feel any great attachment to the fabric and color combinations featured on any particular pattern, this one is an exception to the rule.  It must be the stunning combination of red and green (a la strawberries??) which draws me to this dress, and makes me want to make one in just the same color scheme.  The only notable change I would make is to the collar, whose long points I would tame a bit.

Dare I dream to be wearing this dress by the time next strawberry season rolls around?

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Filed under Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

My very stylish pants.

For several months I was watching a piece of Moygashel linen for sale by Revival Fabrics.  When I first saw this offering, I had the eerie feeling of déjà vu – I was sure I remembered seeing this patterned fabric in the late ‘60s or early ‘70s when I was a steady admirer and occasional purchaser of this brand of linen I love so much.  The piece that was being offered was three yards long, 44″ wide and included a Moygashel label.  The description accompanying it suggested making patio furniture pillows or tote bags with it, neither of which much appealed to me.  And actually, this suggestion threw me off a bit ; I wondered if it was drapery-weight linen, not dress-weight.  But the more I looked at it online (clicking close-ups of the images), the more convinced I became that it was dress-weight.  I finally decided to buy it, not really knowing what I was going to make out of it (maybe a sheath dress…?)

When the package arrived and I finally saw this linen in person, I was – so excited! It was gorgeous – and my suspicions were correct – it was definitely dress-weight.

Here is a lengthwise view of the linen.

Here is closer view of this amazing pattern.

My first thought after my initial euphoria was:  This would make up into fabulous ankle-length pants (worn with a black, yellow or khaki top – and of course my black and yellow Bakelite bracelet).  And yes, I was sure I would have the nerve to wear them!

I laid out the fabric with a black cotton knit top and my Bakelite bracelet just to see how it would look.

And here is the label which came with the fabric.

With my plan in place, I decided this would be my next project after I finished the one I was on.  Then something really amazing happened.  A fashion article in the May 3, 2012 edition of The Wall Street Journal caught my eye.   Christina Binkley, one of the newspaper’s fashion reporters, headlined her weekly column “On Style”  with The Pantsuit Takes a Walk on the Wild Side.

I don’t like any of these fabric designs as much as I like my Moygashel linen!

I’ve never been a fan of pantsuits, but some of the fabrics featured had that same ‘60s’ feel as my new vintage linen.  The reporter rightly questioned how well these head to toe outfits would “play on the streets”, but then she added:

“…at least one mainstream retailer will highlight the idea that the pantsuit can be worn as separates…  There will be more busy pants than busy jackets.  ‘There may be women who wear it head-to-toe – very daring,’ says Sak’s Ms. Sherin.  ‘But for us, it’s probably about the patterned pant’.”

Then, Ms. Binkley suggested:  “The key to wearing this trend is not straying too far from your safety zone.  Stick to colors and patterns you will still love in five years.  And let the bold pattern do the talking – go with a conservative fit if you’d rather not be the center of attention.”

Further:  “It’s probably not a coincidence that wild pantsuits are appearing just as ‘Mad Men,’ the style-influencing television show, is entering the psychedelic phase of the ‘60s.”

Well, my linen fabric is far from psychedelic, but it is bold – and reading this article certainly did validate my plans for making pants.   I also already knew the pattern I wanted to use, one quite appropriately from the early to mid ‘60s!

I really like all the styles featured on this pattern – the coat, the two blouse variations, the cummerbund –and the “conservative” pants.Classic looks – all of them!

Okay – I was ready to start this project.  First I washed the linen in cool water, delicate cycle, and dried it on medium heat.  This way I know my pants are totally machine washabIe.  Next I made a muslin of the pants pattern to check for fit.  I should have done a little more measuring first, as the crotch was too deep and had to be redrawn.  Also, although I like slim-ankled pants, these were just a bit too slim, so that was another adjustment.  I ended up making muslin #2, which was much closer to the final version from which I cut my pants.  However, I had made so many adjustments, that I decided to copy the final pattern onto freezer paper. (Freezer paper is my secret sewing friend – the dull side provides a wonderful surface upon which to draw in pencil and the shiny side can be ironed to fabric to cut out appliqués or anything, really, and then easily removed.  And the long continuous roll of paper is perfect for long pattern pieces like pants, coats, etc.)  The good news is that now I have a pants pattern that fits really well with the slim, but not too slim, legs that I like.

During construction, I tried on these pants about a ga-zillion times.  This fabric was just too dear to make any mistakes, and the more I tried them on, the more I liked them.  Here they are, all finished.

I’d say these are definitely bold!

Here is my outfit, complete with Bakelite bracelet.  (I think the camera angle makes the legs look different lengths??)

A close-up of same, with the earrings I’ll also wear with this outfit. (Click on the image).

Here is a view of the waistband and zipper.

And here is the final touch – the label attached to the inside back of the waistband!

How neat is it to sew something up in vintage fabric, using a vintage pattern – and be totally stylish in 2012? And – I still have enough of this fabric left over to make a skirt.  Hopefully that will be very stylish, too, whenever I get around to making it!

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Filed under Bakelite buttons and/or jewelry, Coats, Linen, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, Vogue patterns

A modern American translation: vintage Irish linen and 1966 French design

I’m never completely sure where pattern/fabric-pairing inspiration and decision- making comes from.  I kind of imagine all kinds of synapses going on in my brain, pulling information both stored and recently learned, which enable me to visualize a particular pattern made up in a particular fabric.  Somehow, most of us who sew  know what works – or doesn’t work – and then we can proceed, or not!  Well, my brain was telling me that this ca. 1965 Moygashel linen would look great made up in this 1966 Jacques Heim-designed dress:

Congratulations to those of you who picked this fabric in my Quiz #2!

I promise this will be the last time I show this pattern evelope!

Before I actually began work on the dress, I looked up Jacques Heim in one of my favorite reference books, The St. James Fashion Encyclopedia: A Survey of Style from 1945 to the Present. “Mr. Heim’s fashion house designed and made clothes of a modest style…” (p. 186) It appears he was not a great innovator, although he was interested in many styles, and his loyalty to a ladylike interpretation of those styles gave him staying power over his 45-year career.

Vogue Patterns started featuring his designs in the early ‘50s as part of their designer series.  It was interesting to go through some of my Vogue Pattern Book magazines and see the progression of his fashions.

In chronological order, here are four examples of his work:

This dress was featured in the June/July 1957 Vogue Pattern Book magazine.

This ladylike suit was pictured in the August/September 1958 issue of the Vogue Pattern Book magazine.

Here is a Jacques Heim evening coat from the August/September 1962 Vogue pattern Book magazine.

This ensemble was one of Mr. Heim’s February/March 1963 designs. The waist on the dress has a set-in chevron-peaked belt detail. Very lovely!

The pattern I chose was actually featured in one of the free “flyers” which were available in fine fabric stores in the ‘60s.  It is dated Fall 1966.  I just happened to find this copy on eBay – no one bid against me, so I guess I was meant to have it!

I felt very lucky to find this item on eBay!  Note the hair-do.

Mr. Heim died in early January 1967, so this particular pattern must have been one of the last ones which he designed or which was designed under his name before his death.  His fashion house then only lasted for 2 more years, closing operation in 1969 .

So – now on to construction of my dress.  I made a muslin of the bodice yoke  so I could check on the neckline and shoulder line, both of which seem to be an ongoing challenge for me with these vintage patterns.  Although the neck seemed to be okay, the shoulder line appeared to me to extend a little too far out over the shoulders.   So I re-cut the pattern piece, which meant that the facing had to be re-cut as well.

I had to extend the length of the armhole facing to accommodate my changes to the shoulder line.

The pattern called for the dress to be interlined, for which I chose a lightweight linen/cotton blend.  I basted all the pieces together by hand, kind of in a grid before machine basting them together just inside the seam lines.  I also basted all the dart lines, as indicated on the pattern instructions.

Here are the “bodice/yoke” pieces shown with their underlinings.

This shows my basting stitches on the dart lines.

As I got near to the end of the construction, I was very happy that I had re-cut the shoulders, but I began to sense that the neck was going to be a problem.  After I had the facings in the armholes, I tried the dress on, and yes, the neck was tighter than I wanted it to be.  I cut off the 5/8” seam allowance on the neckline and the matching part of the facing, which made it perfect!

Here is the finished dress.

Here is the back view.

A close-up of the top of the dress. I used vintage silk thread to do the topstitching. It’s very subtle, but effective, I think, particularly in person…

I had just enough of this yellow vintage seam tape to do the neck. It makes a nice flat finish. I sometimes do the understitching on the facings by hand. If you click on the photo, you can probably see this detail. It’s time-consuming, but makes a nice finish!

Finally, for anyone who’s interested, here’s the inside story!

I really like this dress – it’s cheery, comfortable and casually dressy – what more could one ask for?

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Filed under Linen, Polka dots, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, Vogue patterns

Quiz #2: Match the fabric to the pattern

Of all my sewing projects, which are either in the works or in the planning stages, two of them will be completed shortly. (At least I hope they will be.  Everything always seems to take longer than I anticipate…  Does anyone else find that to be true?)   However, I’m just not ready to report on either of these “almost-finished” endeavors yet.  . . . So I thought I would take this opportunity to expand a bit on my infatuation with Moygashel linen – and give you, my readers, some more beautiful vintage fabrics to see – and to allow you to imagine them all dressed up and ready to wear.

In the Vogue Pattern Book from Summer of 1957, one of the articles implores the reader to “consider the crispness of LINEN”.

This June/July issue is perfect to feature linen - it is a great fabric for Summer - cool, crisp, washable, and the perfect weight for dresses and suits.

Articles like this, and ads for linen fabrics, showcase the popularity of sewing with linen in the 1950s, ‘60s, and ‘70s.  I shared a few Moygashel linen ads with you recently, and here are three more, which illustrate the range of designs and colors available to the mid-century home sewer.

This almost whimsical illustration depicts four designs of Moygashel linen. It appeared in the February/March 1958 issue of Vogue Pattern Book magazine.

This ad states: "Your precious handiwork can convert this Vogue Pattern into an heirloom, because you know that Moygashel Linen defies wear." Those words were certainly presentient! It appeared in the April/May 1953 Vogue Pattern Book magazine.

Here are four more Moygashel linens, featured in the February/March 1957 Vogue Pattern Book magazine.

I certainly decided to “consider” linen when I purchased this 1965 Vogue pattern a few months ago:

This pattern is for a paring of coat and dress, but the dress stands alone beautifully.

My intention was to make the dress only – a lovely sheath with some distinctive seaming and top-stitching.  So I went to my fabric closet to see what linens I could “consider” for a crisp Spring/Summer dress.  Here are the four that I decided to choose from:

#1 - Bright and sunny, this design is a subtle play on the polka dot theme.

#2 - The colors in this design are very 2012-current-and- fashionable!

#3 - Decorative topstitching on this solid pink linen would be quite attractive.

#4 - This geometric print is probably from the late '60s, so it would make up beautifully in a pattern from the '60s!

Which fabric would you choose for this dress pattern?  Which one do you think I chose to make into this dress?

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Filed under Linen, Polka dots, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, Vogue patterns

Shopping in my (cedar) closet.

In the 1940s, ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s, most well appointed ladies’ closets contained at least one dress or suit made from Moygashel linen.  The cachet around this product of Ireland was legendary:  it was touted as crease resistant, made so by  a special process in its manufacture which used soft rainwater from the streams in the Mourne Mountains of northern Ireland.    It has many virtues, including:

1)   it was available in many beautiful solid colors…

2)   and in amazing prints, which by themselves are like mini works of art….

3)   and in embroidered designs, which are still today instantly recognizable as Moygashel.

4)   It is machine washable.

5)   It does not wrinkle, truly!!

6)   It lasts and lasts.

It’s no wonder that designers and high-end ready-to-wear garment manufacturers used Moygashel linen and proudly displayed the name of Moygashel along with, and in addition to, their own labels.

Luckily for the home sewer and dressmaker, Moygashel linen was also available in yardage at the finest fabric stores and departments.  Obviously home sewers took to it readily.  Artful, full-page ads for Moygashel linen in sewing and pattern magazines were commonplace.  Here are a few that were given up-front placement in issues of the Vogue Pattern Book magazine from various dates in the ‘60s:

This ad was featured in the February/March 1961 issue of Vogue Pattern Book magazine. The dress illustrated is a Vogue pattern from the designer series. I love that this ad shows 5 different linens available for purchase.

This ad appeared in the February/March 1963 issue of Vogue pattern Book. It has such a sophisticated look to it, which was a hallmark of Moygashel ads.

Occasionally Moygashel ads would feature a real model, such as this one from the April/May 1963 issue of Vogue pattern Book.

As I am a big fan of the color pink, I'm particularly fond of the linens featured in this ad from the February/March 1964 Vogue Pattern Book.

As I began to do more and more serious sewing for myself in the late ‘60s, I, too, took notice of Moygashel linen, which started my long love-affair with it.  I was even fortunate enough to purchase a few select pieces in the 70’s: I made dresses and suits and skirts, most of which I no longer have.  However, my current renewed interest in sewing and mid-century fashion and patterns led me to my cedar closet with a fresh eye.  So what did I find in that fragrant repository of out-of-season, out-of-date, and too-sentimental-to-give-away clothing ?  In reverse chronological order, here are three Moygashel treasures:

1)   Carefully packed away in a box I found an almost-completed jacket and unfinished skirt, complete with pattern and pins and thread.  Here is the pattern, which is from 1981:

The jacket of this pattern looks just as stylish today as it did in 1981. I'm not sure why I never finished it three decades ago.

Last Spring I (finally) completed the jacket, with buttons and a few stitches here and there,  and it is now a valued member of my Spring and Summer wardrobe.  I’ll probably recycle the skirt fabric into something else, still to be determined.

I am also a big fan of the color red, so I couldn't be more pleased that I chose this red for this jacket so many years ago.

Here is a close-up of my 1981 jacket. I hope you can see the beautiful quality of the linen.

2)  My mother-in-law was a lady of great taste in clothes, and although she did not sew, she would occasionally have her “dear little German dressmaker” make something special for her.  I told her about the wonderful fabrics available at Stapler’s on Walnut Street in Philadelphia, and I believe she made some fabric purchases in combination with one of her many day trips with friends to the city and to the Forrest Theatre.   One of her purchases (circa 1975) was a colorful piece of Moygashel linen, from which she had a long “hostess” skirt made.  I eventually ended up with this skirt, which I took apart and remade two years ago into this shorter version:

The colors and design in this fabric are so eye-catching.

Here is a close-up of the skirt fabric, which is quintessential '70s!

Here is the back of my re-made skirt.

3)   In 1973, I made my own purchase of Moygashel linen at Stapler’s, this one for a dress to accompany me on my honeymoon:

This simple A-line dress, with raglan sleeves, was made from a Vogue pattern, long gone. Ankle-length dresses like this were very fashionable in 1973.

Here is a back view of the dress. The zipper is metal (that really dates me!) which I inserted by hand.

A few years later I made a belt to wear with it, to “update” it a bit, but since then it has hung in my cedar closet, a sweet reminder of years past.

This photo shows the dress belted. The bright, bold print of this linen makes a statement.

Somehow what fit me in my twenties just doesn’t look the same in my early sixties.  Imagine that!   So this dress, made from one of Moygashel’s classically timeless linens, is in that category of “too-sentimental-to-give-away”.  But now I wonder.  Should I remake it into something I can wear and use?  Would I have the nerve to cut it apart?  Should I be practical or nostalgic?  Whoever knew that the contents of a cedar closet could pose such existential questions to ponder? What should I do?

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Filed under Linen, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

Can you zip me up, please?

This is a completely unscientific observation, but it seems to me that the zipper has made a fairly substantial migration over the years – from the side of the dress – to the back of the dress.  If that sounds confusing, let me explain a bit more, by showing you some of my dress patterns which date from the 1950s.  All of these dresses feature a side zipper, placed a few inches under the left arm and extending a few inches below the waist (or, in other words, these zippers open within a garment seam.).

I love the clean lines of this dress from 1957, with the "yoke" effect which extends into the kimono sleeves. The back of the envelope shows more detail.

You can see from this back view that, although the top back yoke buttons, a side zipper is still necessary to get the dress on!

The front on this dress only opens to the waist, so a side zipper enables one to step into it. This pattern is dated 1957.

The back detail on this evening gown from 1958 would have been interrupted by a center back zipper, but a side zipper preserves the designer's intent.

I love this dress design from 1957, which simply would not work using a center back zipper.

Patterns from the last half of the 1960s start to feature more and more zippers which are placed in the center back of the dress, and by the 1970s, it seems, almost all zippers were center back ones.

This design from the early '60s would work with either a side or center back zipper, but the pattern calls for a center back one, thus showing the start of the transition.

The dress on this pattern is actually my next project! It is a design by Jacques Heim from the 1970s. I'll be inserting a 22" neckline zipper in the back of this dress.

A casual look at vintage clothes from this time period also seems to support this observation (with the occasional exception to the rule, of course.  I actually saw a side-zippered dress at J.Crew one day this week, but it’s not the same, really, as the dress is sleeveless and the zipper parts at the top, under the arm.)

To try to understand some of the dynamics of this zipper conundrum, I went to my 101 Things I Learned in Fashion School book (by Alfredo Cabrera with Matthew Frederick) to see if I could find any entry on zippers.  Here is what I found on page 64:

“Center back zippers are like fine crystal:  best reserved for special occasions.  When a student designs an interesting garment and is asked how the wearer gets into it, the common answer is, ‘center back zipper.’  This solution is favored by inexperienced designers because it doesn’t require an invasive change to a garment.  But a back closure is rarely a satisfactory solution; it’s a fussy, frustrating concern when one has only fifteen minutes to dress for work.

“Back closures are a remnant from an era when women wore corsets and hoopskirts and had maids to truss them up in back.  Today they are more appropriate in association with major events.  On her wedding day or Oscar night, after a woman has spent a lot of time and money on her hair and makeup, she is more likely to want to step into her dress than pull it over her head.  A center back zipper implies a fitting sense of occasion.” [my emphasis]

Side-placed zippers are different from center-back zippers both in name and detail:  side zippers are called “dress” zippers and have bottom and top “stops”, while zippers for the center back (or skirts, pants, shorts) are called “neckline” or “skirt” zippers and, of course, open at the top with a stop just at the bottom.  (Skirt and neck zippers can easily be made into dress zippers by putting a few tacking stitches to anchor the two sides together right above the pull.)  Back in their hay-day, dress zippers were available in lengths from 10” to 14”. Skirt and neckline zippers are still available in lengths ranging from 6” to 24”, but they are now called “all-purpose” zippers.

So why, since the ‘70s, have most side dress zippers been replaced by neckline zippers placed center back?  I guess there are several potential answers to that question, including:

1) a lot of us would rather step into our dresses than pull them over our heads even if we are not dressing for a special occasion.

2) laziness or ignorance  (both kind of strong words, for which I apologize to anyone offended!) or practicality on the part of designers.

3) it’s just become the accepted way of closing a dress.

4) the invisible zipper made application of the zipper easier and the finished look more streamlined.

5) Huh? What’s a side zipper?

I’m sure there are lots of other explanations but my favorite one is a bit more romantic…   James H. Boren put it succinctly thus:  “A dress that zips up the back will bring a husband and wife together.”   I’d say that is a “fitting sense of occasion”!

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Filed under kimono sleeves, side-placed zippers, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

Spring-Summer Fashion Show – A Day Remembered from 1976

I was working in center city Philadelphia in 1976.  The venerable John Wanamaker Department Store was just a few blocks away from my place of employment – and often I would grab a quick yogurt and crackers for lunch and then head over to the Fabric Department to spend the remainder of my lunch hour dreaming among the bolts of silks and linens, cottons and wools.  It was about this same time of year – mid-March – when I saw a notice about a fashion show, which was going to be held at the store.  It was to feature Vogue patterns, and the sole fabric of choice was to be American-made silk.  Well, this was quite enough to make a girl’s heart go pitter-patter; this was one show I was not going to miss!

When the appointed day arrived, somehow I carved out the time from work and scurried off to the top floor of the Wanamaker building which housed the “designer fashions” department.  I was feeling a little young and naïve among the well-dressed ladies in attendance, but that did not deter me!  I was in heaven as I saw one gorgeous outfit after another, all in glorious colors of the most beautiful silk fabrics.  I came away with the printed “program” from the show and have kept it all these years.  Here is the front of it:

The symbol for American Silk featured on the cover of the Program is still used today.

I came away with a couple of other things as well – a Vogue pattern which had been featured, and a piece of American silk in which to make my chosen design!  First, however, a few words on the company which sponsored the Show – and a few peeks into the rest of the printed program.

Here is the statement at the bottom of page two of the Program:

“All fabrics in the show are pure silk and made in America by the American Silk Mills Corp. and distributed to the over-the-counter market by Logantex, Inc.  You will find the fabrics in the colors in the show as well as other favorite colors in the fabric department.  Fashion note:  the identical silk fabrics are presently being used by leading American designers in their spring and summer ready-to-wear collections.”

American Silk Mills is still in operation, but it seems they are no longer producing dress goods, just drapery and upholstery fabrics.  Logantex is still a distributor of fabrics.

The Show was conducted by Charles Kleibacker, whom I remember as very charming and very sophisticated on stage.   He was known as “Master of the Bias” and gave some styling and sewing tips that day on using the bias in dressmaking.  He died in 2010 at the age of 88.

The show was divided into five “scenes”:  Day Dressing in Silk, Sporty Silks, Silk Chic – The Layered Look, At Home in Silk, and Evenings in Silk.  Twenty-eight patterns were featured in twenty-four “looks”.  The diagrams of these outfits are in black and white, but the colors and types of silk used for each are designated in the  descriptions.  Here are the four pages of designs (click on the images to see them enlarged):

Not all the Vogue patterns featured were from their Designer Series, but of those that were, they were all American designers - very appropriate for the Bicentennial Year!

The sailor middy and skirt outfit shown at the top of the page was memorable in its Fire Engine Red, Canton Navy Blue and White.

You can read some more about Charles Kleibacker at the top of this page from the Program.

The designs on this page give a good feel for the various weaves of silk which were featured in this show: crepe de chine, "Shan-Twill", broadcloth, and linen. Shantung was also one of the weaves.

Reading the color descriptions and combinations is totally inspiring.  For example, View 6 featured Shocking pink, Pure pink, and Blossom pink.  Olive and Pistachio were paired in view 8, while view 13 brought Mariner blue, Sun gold, Chrysanthemum, and Canton Navy together in one stunning outfit.  View 24 was a fabulous finale piece in Straw, Apricot, Desert Coral and Wheat.

However, the colors which spoke to me the most that day were the Hyacinth silk linen, the Desert coral silk linen and the Melon twill.  I could only afford to buy one length of fabric – I opted for the pattern shown in View 2, an Anne Klein shirtdress –  and I purchased the hyacinth blue silk linen.

I made a wide self belt and wore this dress with the collar up in back as pictured.

Here is all I have left of the fabric, two scraps!

This photo cannot show you the depth of color saturation, nor the perfect weight and weave of this silk linen.

I remember wearing the dress to parties and feeling very happy.  Isn’t that what beautiful clothes are supposed to do?

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Filed under Dressmaker details, sewing in silk, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns