Tag Archives: fashion sewing

January 17, 2013 · 10:12 pm

Sewing SMART for 2013

The word “smart” has lots of different meanings. My desktop Webster’s lists 21 different connotations of this short, very effective word. I particularly like two of the ways this word was used when I was growing up in the ‘50s and ‘60s: those would be meanings #5: “neat or trim in appearance, as a person or garment”, and #6: “socially elegant; sophisticated or fashionable: the smart crowd”. With these definitions in mind, I looked for and quickly found some very pertinent examples of these meanings in two Vogue Pattern Book Magazines from 1953 and 1954:

The February/March issue of Vogue Pattern Book Magazine 1954 gives the reader ideas for a “smart look all through the day, now and through spring.”

The VPB magazine from October/November 1953 featured “10 smart, new high fashion Vogue Couturier Designs.”

I love this caption from the same issue: fashions with ” a minimum number of pieces to sew and fit … maximum smartness.”

Well, in thinking about some of my sewing goals and aspirations for 2013, I kept coming back to this word – SMART – and decided it would be very useful to use as a guideline, with each letter of the word reminding me of some of what I hope to accomplish. SO …

S is for SKILLS. This year I am concentrating on learning new ones, practicing and perfecting ones that I have and taking advantage of at least two classes to help me develop my skills as a dressmaker. So far, I am enrolled in Craftsy’s “Sewing with Silks: The Liberty Blouse” on-line course (not started yet), and I will be spending a week in Baltimore with Susan Khalje for The Classic French Jacket Class. Perhaps other classes will wiggle their way into the year as well!

M is for MARKING AND MEASURING my progress and accomplishments, my mistakes (hopefully not too many!), and my plans and intentions. This is, of course, where “Fifty Dresses” comes in. Writing this blog helps me focus more on the process than I would normally – and that’s both instructive and rewarding. So thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of you who follow along, make comments, give me encouragement, and share your sewing insights and ideas through your own blogs or other online presence. Thinking, reading and writing about sewing is almost as much fun as sewing itself.

A is for ART. Sewing is so much more than a “hobby” or a way to build a wardrobe (albeit slowly!). It really is an art form, and the more I sew, the more I realize and appreciate this fact. Some of my creations will no doubt be like simple sketches – quick and easy to make and even easier to throw on for a trip to the grocery store – while one or two others perhaps will rise closer to “masterpiece” level (I can dream) – made with finest fabrics and specialized techniques, intended for special occasions. Good art should be taken seriously and seriously enjoyed, don’t you think?

R is for REALISTIC, as in having realistic goals of what I can and cannot accomplish in a set amount of time. This is the part I have trouble with. I always think I can sew faster than I can. Although I am sure I will always plan more than I can possibly accomplish, I am going to try to set more realistic goals (keeping a separate, working list of intended projects to help me focus) in the context of what I know will be a busy year in other aspects of my life.

T is for TIMELESS. This may be my favorite part of the acronym. Timeless is the look that I am always striving for in the clothing I make. Using vintage patterns for the most part allows me to choose styles that really have stood the test of time – and which often have a restrained classicism to them that suits my sensibility.

Sketches in Vogue Pattern Book Magazine from October/November 1956 show styles which look very au courant, from the clothing to the hair to the shoes and accessories. I’d like to be that lady in red!

How stylish are these looks from the same magazine?

And a box-jacket suit is always in vogue.

It’s fun to see current color and style trends, which harken back to 40, 50, or 60 years ago. Then to make them, using vintage patterns, with newfound construction knowledge, in some of the beautiful fabrics available today, is the best of many worlds. Not only SMART, but lucky, too, in 2013!

22 Comments

Filed under The Conde Nast Publications, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, Vogue patterns

Tagged as 1950's Vogue patterns, fashion sewing, love of sewing, sewing, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns, women's dress suits

January 11, 2013 · 1:15 pm

Chance of Flurries

I am two weeks (maybe closer to three weeks) behind schedule, but I am undaunted. The last two weeks of 2012 were chock-a-block full of Family, Fun, and Feasting – and then the plague hit our house. Yes, another F-word – the FLU – which apparently was not the type we got the immunizations for…

But this week has found me back in my sewing room, finishing up what was to be my final project for 2012. Flexibility, I have learned, is a great asset to cultivate, so I am trying to be flexible in my plans and take it all in stride. Indeed, I am hoping that I will be striding pretty in newly-sewn pants, which have now joined my wardrobe.

I think I must like pants made out of figured fabric. As soon as I saw this snowflake wool on the website of Waechter’s Fabrics, I knew I wanted to make it up in winter slacks.

This is a jacquard woven wool, but very light-weight and soft.

It was not even a decision to use the same 1960s’ pattern I used for my “very stylish” linen pants last Spring – pants’ patterns that fit are worth using again and again.

I made quite a few alterations to the pattern so that these slacks actually fit me!

I did decide, however, to make these using couture techniques. I underlined them with a very light-weight rayon voile which I have used successfully before. I did not want to add much stiffness to this very soft and flexible wool, so the rayon seemed a better match than silk organza in this instance. I catch-stitched all the seams, and inserted a hand-picked zipper.

The underlined pants, with catch-stitched seams.

Hand-picked zipper.

As luck would have it, the newest issue of Threads Magazine arrived right as I was getting started on this project – and Susan Khalje’s article “Build a Better Waistband” (page 44 – 49) immediately caught my attention. I had already purchased several yards of Petersham ribbon in anticipation of waistbands yet to come, so I was all set. I carefully followed all her detailed instructions and photos:

The newsest issue of Threads Magazine

The Petersham ribbon basted onto the waistline.

I even decided to make a “faced” waistband. I knew that this would help reduce bulk in the waistband, but also it would insure that any “itching” around the waist sometimes caused by wool fabric would be eliminated.

I made the facing out of the lining fabric.

Everything was going along swimmingly until I went to set in the lining for the pants, which I made out of Bemberg rayon. Somehow, the rise from the crotch to the waist was a little short. I don’t know how this happened, but it did, and so I was faced with figuring out how to remedy this situation short of making an entire new lining. Well, I decided to attach the waistband just to the underlined wool, not including the lining. Then I used some careful and tightly-spaced catch-stitching to attach the top of the lining to that waistband seam. (I forgot to take a photo of this, as I was totally absorbed in this “make-do” process.) This worked beautifully, much to my delight. The only further fix I knew I needed to do was finish the inside of the waistband. The waistband facing needed to be a little longer to hide my mistake, so I bound the raw edge with seam binding and used the fell stitch to finish it off. I’m happy with the way it looks:

The seam binding helps to make a clean finish and hides my mistake!

I don’t think anyone would suspect my mistake – except for all of you, of course!

After final stitches to secure the lining to each of the legs, and then lots of steaming and pressing , my snowflake pants were finished!

Here they are, all finished!

A back view.

Kind of a side view.

And a little closer up… I’m happy with the way I was able to align the snowflake “medallions”.

We seem to be in a January thaw right now, so the only forecast for flurries must be – in my control?? Well, I happily guarantee that sightings of snowflakes will definitely happen this Winter!

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Filed under couture construction, hand-sewn zippers, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, Vogue patterns, woolens

Tagged as fashion sewing, sewing, vintage Vogue patterns, waistband construction, woolen pants

December 19, 2012 · 10:47 pm

A Newly Defined ‘50s’ Frock

I have finished making a new dress from an old pattern, which isn’t anything too unusual for me. What is unusual is the spell which this pattern cast over me from the time I first saw it last January, and then purchased it from an Etsy shop.

The back of the envelope, showing the back yoke detail. Don’t you love the handbags that the artist included?

1) Kimono sleeves in three-quarter length. Cut in one with the bodice, kimono sleeves were common in the ‘50s, and now seem to be making a comeback. Three quarter length is extremely flattering for most women, and was popular then and now.

2) Side zipper. This dress goes over the head and needs that side zipper to accommodate the wiggle room needed to accomplish this method of dressing. A back zipper would completely ruin the effect of the four-buttoned back yoke.

3) No pockets. While pockets are lovely inventions, this dress would lose some of its slim and flattering line should pockets bulge out from the side seams.

4) Mid-calf length. This length looks great in the pattern illustration, but not so much on me. One of the beauties of these vintage patterns is adapting them for current wear – so I opted for knee-length instead.

5) Bound buttonholes. Although this pattern is called “easy to make” on the back of the envelope, it still calls for bound buttonholes. And, oh, they add such a nice detail.

Now to the specifics. I found this black and white herringbone alpaca wool (made in the USA) on Britex Fabrics’ website, and purchased it on sale a few months ago, specifically for use with this pattern.

This is the swatch I ordered from Britex sometime over the Summer.

I wanted to make the dress using couture techniques (learned in the online Craftsy course The Couture Dress taught by Susan Khalje.) This meant that I would 1) make a muslin for fitting and pattern tracing; 2) underline the entire dress with silk organza; 3) eliminate the separate neck facing; 4) finish all the interior seams by catch-stitching them to the underlining; and 5) line the entire dress, which I did using Bemberg instead of china silk (more on that in a bit).

There were a number of decisions/problems/successes involved in making this dress. First, the nature of the fabric is that there are slight imperfections in the weave, and it is quite loosely woven, making it quite susceptible to raveling. When I laid it out to cut it, I wanted to avoid any obvious imperfections front and center. Patterns with kimono sleeves demand large expanses of fabric and thus do not allow a lot of jiggling of their placement. I can honestly say that I had JUST enough fabric and not an inch more than I needed!

One of the first problems I realized I was going to have concerned the buttonholes. I quickly discovered that the loose weave of the fabric meant that I was not going to be able to make bound buttonholes using self-fabric for the “strips”. I considered using a plain black wool for these strips, but I thought that would be too much of a contrast. Well, now I know why I save all kinds of scraps from previous projects – you never know when one of those random pieces of fabric will come in handy. I spied a scrap in my fabric closet and quickly decided that one part of the weave would be perfect to delineate those buttonholes:

I used the “gray” portion of this windowpane check for the buttonhole “strips”. Click on the photo to see this up close.

An inside look at the buttonholes in progress

And an outside look…

When it came to deciding on buttons, I could not find any I liked. But I remembered some buttons I had sewn onto a RTW jacket several years ago (to replace the ones that came on it.) They have a “herringbone” look to them – it’s very subtle, but effective. The jacket is one I haven’t worn in a couple of years, so I just robbed the cuffs of their buttons and used them on my dress. (Now I guess I know for sure I won’t be wearing that jacket again!) But – the buttons are perfect for this dress.

My buttons of choice!

Choosing to use couture techniques was a “dress-saver”. The larger seam allowances took away the panic I might have felt, once I realized the fabric frayed so easily. And finishing off each interior seam with catch-stitching controlled the fraying and helped the seams to lay perfectly flat.

Eliminating the separate neck facing was also a bonus to ease construction. First of all, I wanted to widen the neckline, which I worked out in my muslin. Using the seam allowance and hand-applied, under-stitched lining for the neck facing made it lay flat, and of course, it’s not itchy either!

The “couture-constructed” neckline, before the lining is attached.

Even though I did not have “plaids” to match, I needed to pay close attention to the rows in the herringbone weave, so that none of them were crooked. This is where Clover two-pronged pins (recommended by Susan Khalje in The Couture Dress class) came in handy and helped me keep those rows lined up evenly.

Clover “fork” pins

Finally, I decided to use Bemberg lining fabric instead of China silk because I thought it might be a bit more substantial for this somewhat heavy weight wool. When I was deciding what color to make the lining, I considered ivory, black, and even a bright color, such as red. But I settled on deep gray, and it seems just right.

In fact, everything about this dress seems just right. It is delightfully rewarding when a pattern does not disappoint – and when it turns out to be a complete winner, well, that is reason to make it again (which I will)!

I can wear this dress as a sheath, unbelted, but I love it with this Coach black belt.

With a touch of emerald green for the holiday season.

With green gloves for a ’50s’ look!

And another back view. Alpaca is a very warm wool – so this dress is very cozy.

For now, however, my sewing room is “gift-wrap central”. The colorful ribbons, paper and tags are cheerful tokens of a season of blessings and family and home. To all of you celebrating the season, may it be a time of great peace and love for you and yours. And, as I take a couple of weeks “off”, I send a heartfelt Merry Christmas from me to you…

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Filed under bound buttonholes, Buttons - choosing the right ones, couture construction, kimono sleeves, side-placed zippers, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, woolens

Tagged as 1950's Vogue patterns, Britex Fabrics, Choosing buttons, Etsy vintage patterns, fashion sewing, Kimono sleeves, sewing, side-placed zippers, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns

December 12, 2012 · 1:52 pm

Green, green, and more green

When Pantone announced the color of the year for 2013 last week, I was immediately smitten. Actually, I’ve been smitten with Emerald Green (Pantone 17-5641 TCX) for as long as I can remember – and finally, finally, it’s going to be center stage again after at least 30 years in hiding (as deliciously detailed by Christina Binkley on the Personal Journal front page of The Wall Street Journal on December 6.)

My initial euphoria turned to smug (yes, I admit it!) satisfaction. Why is this? Just this Fall I had seen emerald green silk matka on the website of Waechter’s Fine Fabrics. Well, I sent for a swatch and upon its arrival I speedily ordered three+ yards. I knew I would have to make a Spring suit out of this fabric.

This is the swatch I ordered from Waechter’s Fine Fabrics.

Of course, this was before Pantone made its announcement. And although I still would have purchased it even if this shade of green were the “uncolor” of the coming year, I’m looking forward to being stylish, to boot!

But wait, that’s not all!

Much earlier in the year, I had purchased this yardage of Moygashel linen from an Etsy shop. What attracted me to it was that emerald green is featured so dominantly in it. I’ve shown this fabric before on this blog, but I could not resist showing another peek at it. I still keep thinking it would make a gorgeous Spring coat… or pants.

The emerald green in this design really makes it pop!

Finally, this color – this Emerald Green – has given me the perfect opportunity to tell (and complete) a story about a dress I made for myself in 1980 – and share some wonderful, wonderful family news, too. Here’s the pattern:

Yes - it is for a maternity dress... from 31 years ago.

Yes – it is for a maternity dress… from 32 years ago.

And yes, I made it in Emerald Green:

With a few hang lines after 32 years!

A detail of the yoke. I chose two pearl buttons from my button box of 32 years ago to add a little interest.

This was a piece of Pendleton wool I picked up on sale in the Fall of 1980 when I was scrambling to make some dresses for my first pregnancy (our daughter was born in April 1981). I loved the color and thought it would be quite beautiful over the holidays. In fact, two years later, when I was pregnant again (with our son), I wore it for our Christmas photo:

Our growing family, in 1982.

Whatever possessed me to save this dress, I’ll never know. I actually saved all the maternity clothes I made for myself. I dug them out of the cedar closet this Fall to show to our daughter (the little girl in the photo)– who (taa daa!), with her husband, is excitingly expecting their first child (our first grandchild!). Whatever thoughts I had about the suitability of these dresses for “today’s” pregnant style made both of us laugh! My daughter will not be wearing vintage maternity dresses, even if one of them is an au courant color. But oh dear, the wheels started to turn in my head. Hm-m-m-m, why not take this green “tent” and make a skirt for MYSELF out of it?? Wouldn’t that be a story to tell?

So now, I’m realigning my winter projects. Come January I’ll be seeing and sewing GREEN.

By the way, Pendleton fabric yardage used to come with labels to sew into finished garments. I never sewed the label into this dress, but here it is:

A pristine label, still attached to its card…

… with care instructions on the back.

This time around I plan to use it!

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Filed under 1980's dress patterns, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, woolens

Tagged as Emerald green fabric, fabric labels, fashion sewing, Moygashel linen, Pendleton wool, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns, Wall Street Journal Fashion coverage

November 2, 2012 · 10:19 pm

A Timely Arrival

Last week, as I was putting in some final hours on a suit I have been sewing, I was thinking about some of the “creative” solutions I had to come up with to make the jacket turn out successfully. I had, unbeknownst to me, made a “bad” decision about the fabric. Even though I (still) love the color and design of the black and pink hounds-tooth wool blend, it turned out to be a very heavy, bulky fabric to sew. Well, my newest Threads magazine arrived in the mail last Friday – and right there on page 56 is an article entitled “Better Sewing Habits”. Number 4, by Claire Shaeffer, is: Choose fabrics appropriate to the garment design. Printed in bold is this line: “Select a fabric that is recommended for the pattern”.

This issue of Threads is packed with all kinds of great advice and ideas!

Sure enough, when I went back to the pattern envelope, there in plain English for the recommended fabrics is: “Lightweight wool.” I really felt that sinking feeling, but I tried to console myself by reminding myself that I had made some changes to the pattern and to the construction to accommodate the heavy fabric. I was trying to feel grateful that I actually have some skills which allow me to make changes and try different approaches to solve sewing problems. And, actually, now that the jacket is finished, I am happy with it.

This is the pattern I used – from Vogue’s Designer series, Jo Mattli, circa early 1970s.

The completed outfit – wool blend jacket and silk skirt.

Here is what went well:

1) I was able to match the design quite well across seam lines, shoulders, and sleeves.

2) I think I nailed the fit! Of course, I made a muslin first, so it’s not like that just happened.

3) I reduced the spread of the collar, which actually turned out to be a good decision, when I realized how difficult double layers of the fabric were to work with.

Here is what either did not go well or needed to be “creatively” approached:

1) I really wanted to make bound buttonholes, but the loosely woven, heavy fabric gave me pause. So I decided to make them out of the silk skirt fabric. I backed the buttonhole strips with silk organza by fusing them together. This made the silk stiff enough to stand up to that heavy wool.

The strips attached for the bound buttonholes.

I made the topmost buttonhole a “blind” one as I determined that I would not be buttoning that top button anyway. I knew I could never finish the back of the two remaining buttonholes by the normal method, so I “patched” behind them on the interfacing with a lightweight black wool.

Here is a close-up of the bound buttonholes – and the happily matched front! Click on the photo for a closer-up view.

Before I sewed the front facing, I attached these “patches” to back up to the buttonholes. Then I cut away the heavy fabric underneath, so that I could finish the underneath of the buttonholes somewhat successfully. Click on the photo to see this up close.

2) The neck facing was going to be too heavy using the pink/black wool. So I used that same lightweight black wool for it instead.

Using a lightweight black wool for the facing made the neckline much more manageable.

3) The back vents were not going to lay flat if I turned in the raw edges as the pattern instructions indicated. So I bound them with black bias tape instead.

Instead of turning back the facing edge to finish it, I attached this bias binding.

4) Setting in the sleeves was an exercise in sewing terror! I was sure they would never look good, but somehow they came out unpuckered and pretty well matched. I only used a sleeve heading to round out the shoulder, even though the pattern called for shoulder pads.

5) I have steamed and steamed, but still feel like the front edge could use some further attention. I might take the jacket to the dry cleaners and have it professionally steamed….

I actually really liked the engineering of the pattern: with the correct weight fabric, the jacket would go together quite well and the skirt pattern is a winner, with its shaped waistband.

This view of the back waistband shows how it is shaped.

And, of course, I inserted the zipper by hand.

Another look at the finished suit.

And one more…

Interestingly enough, in the same issue of Threads, the winners of the “Make it with Wool” contest were featured. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that the Senior Winner of the Mohair Council of America, Marisa Linton, of Mount Olive, North Carolina, had used either the same fabric or one very close to “my” fabric to make the coat for her entry (which is stunning, I might add!). She had used a very original and successful technique for her buttonholes, which are part of the details which make her outfit so noteworthy.

Do you think this is the same fabric? (Threads, January 2013, page 52)

So – it seems the past 7 days have been a time of many arrivals, including a huge and destructive East Coast storm – and the first day of November. May the next 7 days bring the final arrival of power and comfort to so many who lost so much in the storm, and make us all grateful for resilience, whether it be in life – or in sewing .

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Filed under bound buttonholes, hand-sewn zippers, sewing in silk, Shoulder shapes (shoulder pads), Uncategorized, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, woolens

Tagged as fashion sewing, Jo Mattli Vogue pattern, sewing, silk, Threads magazine, vintage Vogue patterns, women's dress suits

October 25, 2012 · 5:20 pm

A Blouse by Any Other Name Would Be the Same

I usually work on only one project at a time, but for the past three weeks I’ve had two going strong. I’m furiously working on a “dressy” suit – which needs to be completed this week! However, last winter I made a mental note to myself to use up the fabric remaining from another suit, to make a matching overblouse. I knew the pattern I was going to use, and with my newfound techniques from Craftsy’s The Couture Dress online course, I knew this “small” project would be a great way to practice those skills. So, I thought, “Oh, I’ll just throw this together in no time at all.” Why do I ever think such things? I must be either an eternal optimist or totally divorced from reality.

I have always loved sleeveless overblouses – also known as “shells” and sheath tops. They were particularly popular in the late 1950s and 1960s with or without sleeves (during which time I also knew them as “jerkins” or “weskits” – which are really synonyms for vests). Fairchild’s Dictionary of Fashion describes an overblouse as “ Any blouse or top worn over the skirt or pants rather than tucked inside.” And here’s what they say about a “shell”:

From: The Fairchild Dictionary of Fashion, 3rd Edition, New York, New York, 2010, page 37

A number of my ‘60s patterns show overblouses paired with suits or as part of two-piece dresses.

This v-neck overblouse is a great pairing with this sporty suit.

The description on the back of the envelope says this overblouse “may be tucked in”.

This design by Gres shows a boxy overblouse and skirt combination.

I particularly liked this pattern, with its Dior darts, the slits at the front hem, and its back zipper. (I was able to pick up a refined separating zipper when I was at Britex in September – many are suitable for outerwear only and too clunky for something like this.)

View D is my choice.

Here is another example of an overblouse with Dior darts, which forms part of a two-piece dress. Note that the zipper is on the side:

This design was featured in the August/September 1957 Vogue Pattern Book magazine.

I dutifully made up my muslin, to which I made a number of adjustments (lowering the bust line/darts, shortening the darts in the back, lowering and widening the neckline a bit, adding a little more girth to the hipline so it would slip over my matching skirt without buckling, and adding about two inches to the overall length of the blouse. Hm-m-m, is that all?) I underlined it with silk organza, matched the plaid everywhere I could, keeping in mind how the windowpane check would line up with the skirt. I secured all the seam allowances with catch-stitching, and then I hand-picked the separating zipper. About this time I quietly panicked when I realized how much time I had already put into this blouse! I put it aside and started working on my suit, with a promise to myself to put in a bit more time on the overblouse whenever I had just 30 or 40 minutes “extra”, whatever that means.

Somehow I have managed to complete it, and I think I’m on track to finish my suit in a day or two, as well. Whew! Here are some of the details:

Here is a front view . . .

. . . and here is the back view.

A peek inside the blouse . . .

. . . and a look at the hand-picked zipper. This was the first separating zipper I think I have ever put in – and I am happy with the results!

And here is the finished blouse/overblouse/shell/sheath top, shown with the skirt:

An impersonal view, for which I apologize – no tangling with the tripod and camera timer today!

Just as I appreciate the preciseness which couture sewing makes possible when sewing something as “simple” as this shell, so do I also appreciate the many variant words to describe this type of blouse. My personal favorite name for this blouse?

Finished!

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Filed under Blouse patterns from the 1950's, couture construction, Dior darts, hand-sewn zippers, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, Vogue patterns, woolens

Tagged as fashion sewing, sewing, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns

October 14, 2012 · 1:44 pm

Who is Mrs. Exeter?

And the more important question is – Can she sew? Yes, she can – and she does! But first, let me tell you who she is – or actually who she was. She was a fictional character – a “woman of a certain age” – who started appearing in The Conde Nast Publications’ Vogue magazine in 1949 (as best as I can determine). She was the focus of a regular style column, which was meant to appeal to older fashionable women – with the emphasis most definitely on fashionable. She must have proved to be an appealing figure to readers, because in 1954, the front cover of the October/November issue of Vogue Pattern Book magazine announced: Introducing Mrs. Exeter patterns.

Top billing for the new feature!

Suddenly Mrs. Exeter had discovered the joy of sewing beautiful, classic fashions for herself. Obviously, Vogue patterns, which already had its own Couturier line of patterns, and its very popular Designer pattern series, knew that its audience included these “older” women who had the time, the talent, and the inclination to sew beautiful fashionable clothes for themselves. The copy accompanying the sketches and photos clearly played into the idea that Mrs. Exeter was very sure of her fashion sense:

Here we learn about Mrs. Exeter’s “experienced way of knowing the ‘right’ neither-too-young, nor too old fashions for herself…”

She also had color sense, knowing how to play up her features, and showing she was not afraid to branch out from neutrals and basic black.

Yes, red can definitely enhance silver hair!

She sounds like she was a fun grandmother, too, as this sketch attests:

The caption reads: “Mrs. Exeter takes her grandchildren to town for a Saturday movie treat.”

The Mrs. Exeter feature appeared sporadically throughout the year in the issues of Vogue Pattern Book magazine, continuing through the decade of the 1950s. The October/November 1957 issue had this feature:

The reader was instructed to “sew jet buttons on the short, fitted jacket and flap pockets” of the gray suit on the right.

That same issue used a real model for the Mrs. Exeter section:

It seems Mrs. Exeter favored white gloves and classic handbags.

And another real model appeared in the February/March 1958 issue:

I think this Mrs. Exeter looks a bit insipid!

By the fall of 1958, Mrs. Exeter must have been very popular, as this was the cover of the magazine:

10 pages for Mrs. Exeter patterns!

The Mrs. Exeter appearing here suddenly looked a little less grandmotherly:

Now this is a lovely woman!

Again, the accompanying text was very flattering to the expertise of the older woman:

“Mrs. Exeter knows what she likes… how to look right on all occasions.”

And the texts made frequent reference to Mrs. Exeter’s civic and social obligations and interests. One two-page spread showing suits, declared: “For Mrs. Exeter’s busy calendar of civic and social events, a suit wardrobe is almost a necessity. Her choices, admirably combining chic, distinction, and flattery – with perhaps a shade more emphasis on flattery.”

She also apparently wore shirtwaist dresses with great aplomb, being careful “to avoid thickness at the waist.”

“For all day, every day, the shirtwaist dress is indispensable…” which could be true for 2012 as well!

The Mrs. Exeter feature continued into the early 1960s, but then succumbed to the burgeoning emphasis on youth, disappearing from the magazine by the mid-‘60s. Indeed, in 1970, Vogue Pattern Book magazine introduced a new feature, this one called “Miss Vogue” in an obvious appeal to the younger generation. The description of Miss Vogue? Well, she must have been raised by Mrs. Exeter:

“She’s the girl with the fabulously fresh smile. She loves life. She has fun. She is active and her versatility knows no bounds. …She is a sewing expert… She loves a good challenge. She’s got talent. She’s got finesse… She’s a winner!”

Although Mrs. Exeter might have been “replaced” by Miss Vogue, there were still plenty of 1970s’-era fashions and patterns, which certainly appealed to “the older woman” as well as a stylish younger one. One of those patterns is the one I am currently using :

From Vogue’s Designer series, ca 1970.

I have completed the skirt, which incidentally is, to my thinking the perfect “pencil” skirt – as it is narrow, but very comfortable – and it has a shaped, two-part waistband. (I’m an unabashed fan of waistbands!) I think Mrs. Exeter would approve. I’ll show you in a future post…

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Filed under The Conde Nast Publications, Uncategorized, Unprinted patterns from the 1950s, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1960s, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

Tagged as 1950's Vogue patterns, fashion sewing, Mrs. Exeter (Vogue), sewing, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns, women's dress suits

September 24, 2012 · 3:54 pm

Missing in Action – or – Doesn’t everyone shop for fabric on vacation?

You may have noticed that I’ve not posted anything for almost two weeks. Mr. Fifty Dresses and I have been away on the West Coast, enjoying some time with our grown son, and seeing some of the majestic scenery in the states of California and Oregon. Of course, one of the best places to enjoy colorful scenery is always in Britex Fabrics on Geary Street in San Francisco. My husband and son know by now that no trip to California is complete without fabric shopping!

I am all smiles with my newly-made purchase! I am wearing “my very styish pants” and was delighted to get complimented on them in the store.

You may recall that I have been looking for a skirt-weight fabric to coordinate with this wool:

This fabric will be a jacket, and I want to make a pink skirt to make it into a “dressy suit”.

That pink is a tricky color, I’ve discovered. I’ve ordered many swatches, thinking one of them will be “it” and it never was. So I tucked that pink and black houndstooth- checked wool sample into my carry-on bag so that I could enlist the experts at Britex to assist me. The bolted wools and silks and designer fabrics are on the first floor, and it did not take long for me to accept Douglas’ kind offer of help. We looked first at the wools, one beautiful bolt after another, but none that totally complimented the pink. Next we moved to the silks – and there we struck gold – or perhaps I should say pink gold. As soon as Douglas pulled out this silk shantung, we knew the color was right.

Just what I was looking for!

We carefully checked the color inside and then took it outside on the steps to check it in sunlight. Perfect, both places. Being shantung, it has the correct heft to accompany the wool, but it is light enough to be used for attached trim if I choose to add it around the collar, down the front, and at the bottom of the sleeves.

I am probably going to use this 1970s’ pattern for this outfit.

Next we selected a lining fabric, enough for a narrow skirt and the jacket. Those of you who know Britex, know that the store is on 4 levels, so to accommodate the need to move between floors, I was provided this card with swatches of my newly selected fabrics attached.

The lining is the lighter-colored fabric.

Off I went to the third floor to find buttons. Oh, the choices! That little bit of sparkle in the wool – and the sheen in the silk shantung – seem custom made for buttons with a bit of sparkle, too. I kind of felt like Goldilocks looking at the buttons which the savvy “button lady” pulled out for me. Some were too frou-frou for me, some were too round (and fought with the angles in the weave), some were too sparkly… but these were perfect!

When I actually sew these buttons onto the jacket, I promise I’ll have them on straight!

With my tasks accomplished, I decided to check out the remnants on the fourth floor, and took a quick look at the cottons on the second floor, but then I headed back down to the first floor to look at the woolens again. Britex has a very large selection of wools suitable for “Chanel-type” jackets, including some actual Chanel fabrics. I am trying to buy only what I can’t live without (which isn’t as limiting as it should be, unfortunately), so I carefully considered all the selections in front of me. You can probably guess by now that I did indeed find one I deemed necessary for continued life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I can just imagine this wool in a jacket trimmed in an orangey-red something – all yet to be determined, which is, of course, part of the creative intrigue of sewing.

This fabric is very soft, perhaps due to a certain percentage of mohair wool in its composition.

So – what about the rest of the trip? Lots of driving those great distances out West, lots of laughs, fun, and brews with husband and son, wonderful days at Crater Lake National Park in Oregon, hiking without a fabric store in sight. When one is in such a place as Crater Lake, the great expanse and passage of time is ever in one’s presence. However, I couldn’t help but think about another passage of time, this one personal: the last time I was at Crater Lake was in 1962 when I was twelve years old. It just so happens that Britex Fabrics celebrated their tenth anniversary that very same year. Happy 60th Birthday, Britex!

One more smile before closing hour!

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Filed under Buttons - choosing the right ones, Chanel-type jackets, sewing in silk, Uncategorized, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, woolens

Tagged as Britex Fabrics, Choosing buttons, fashion sewing, love of sewing, sewing, silk, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns, women's dress suits

September 10, 2012 · 9:46 pm

Spending time on the Cape.

Doesn’t this sound like a wonderful vacation? Picture billowy clouds reminiscent of silk organza, gently undulating waves of turquoise hue, windswept flowers lining the landscape. . . So where would one find this perfect setting? I hope you’re not disappointed to learn that it all happened in my sewing room. Yes, that’s correct – it has been wonderful, but this cape is the wearable kind, and I have definitely spent time on it!

The fabric in which I made my Couture dress was a length of linen I picked up last April. When I found it, I did not yet have a pattern in mind for it so I thought I’d purchase enough (3 yards) to cover just about anything, and at 58” wide, I had a nice amount left over from my dress. It just so happens that earlier in the Summer, I had found this pattern and added it to my collection:

Capes were in fashion in the 1970s and are again today!

I remembered this pattern from the 1970s and always liked the short cape, with its asymmetrical opening and clever folds of fabric resulting from that detail.

As I was working on my dress, I started to think about what else I could make from this lovely linen. I didn’t particularly want to make a jacket, as I envisioned the dress as the focal point, but I did think it would be nice to have some kind of matching “wrap” for cool evenings. Well, the rest is quite obvious – I decided to make a short cape to go with my dress.

First I needed to find a silk lining fabric, which would compliment the linen. I wanted a print of some sort to add some interest to the finished look. I think I looked at every printed silk available on the internet! I found lots of gorgeous designs, but only one which presented the possibility of both coordinating with the teal blue linen and introducing some other colors as well. My old friend Britex Fabrics not only had this fabric, but also had a vintage button among their extensive offerings, which looked like a good candidate for my needs. I sent off for the button and swatch, and did indeed then order the silk charmeuse.

I like the abstract quality to this print.

Armed with my new-found couture techniques, I made a muslin pattern which helped me get the perfect fit over the shoulders (which is pretty much what a cape is all about). I underlined the cape in that oh-so-wonderful silk organza, and added interfacing, where required, of the same. Some of this was a judgment call, as I determined were I could use couture features and where I had to follow the tailored construction of the cape.

This shows the silk organza underlining, and the side seam, catch-stitched to it.

One of the hem techniques I learned in The Couture Dress class was helpful with this hem.

Call me crazy, but I just love to make bound buttonholes. Although the pattern called for a 2-inch button, the one I found was 1½ inches (and I thought it a more refined size anyway). That still calls for a large buttonhole! I practiced first, then got to work on the real thing.

The finished bound buttonhole

And the finished underside of the buttonhole.

And the button…

I understitched the facings by hand with that beautiful prick stitch, and attached the lining with the fell stitch.

A peak inside the cape.

Here is the finished look (unfortunately on a hanger and not on me…).

Here is the cape shown over my Couture dress

With one corner pinned up to show the lining.

This view shows the lovely draping formed by the asymmetrical opening.

And one more view.

Well, my time on the Cape officially draws my summer sewing to a close. Now it’s going to be all wools or wool blends and maybe some silks – and I can’t wait! Let’s throw an extra blanket on the bed and dream of cool nights and crisp days filled with creative hours of sewing. . .

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Filed under bound buttonholes, Buttons - choosing the right ones, Capes, couture construction, Linen, sewing in silk, Uncategorized, vintage buttons, vintage Vogue Designer patterns, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s

Tagged as bound buttonholes, Britex Fabrics, capes, Choosing buttons, fashion sewing, sewing, silk, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns

September 2, 2012 · 4:38 pm

Completely Captivating Couture Construction

I just can’t seem to avoid alliteration in my blog-post titles as of late! Truthfully, however, this title really seems to sum up just how badly I have been bitten by the “couture” bug. Earlier in the summer I signed up for Susan Khalje’s class, The Couture Dress, on Craftsy. I’ve mentioned it several times in my past posts, but now, my couture dress is finished.

The Craftsy course included this Vogue pattern:

I decided to make this dress in the slim skirt with short sleeves.

Although I could have substituted another pattern for my dress, I decided it would be beneficial to follow the exact steps which Susan takes one through in her course. (It helped that the view I chose to make reminds me very much of a classic 1960s–style dress).

My idea of making a “muslin” or toile has been completely transformed by this course. I now know it as the most essential ingredient in the proper fit and alteration of a garment – and although the process of producing a useable muslin is time-consuming, every minute is worth it. There is nothing quite so discouraging as spending a lot of time, energy, and money on a garment and then not being completely satisfied with the fit. Making a couture muslin eliminates this possibility almost entirely. Check out the online preview of the course if you want to know more about this concept.

Here is one of my muslin pieces. The lines in red were the original tracings from the pattern and the lines in black are my alterations.

This muslin piece shows the “blind dart” I added to the neck edge. Susan goes over all these details in her course.

There are several “hallmarks” of couture construction, I have learned: Control, Generosity, and that all-important duo of Form and Function. So what (in a nutshell) do these terms mean?

A few examples of Control are:

1) Control of the fit, which, as stated above, is the purpose of the muslin.

2) Control of the stitching line, which is your reference point for sewing – as opposed to the seam allowance, which is how most of us were taught to sew. Lots and lots of basting is the key to controlling the stitching line.

3) Control of the inner seams, the raw edges of which are each catch-stitched to the underlining.

Here you can see the interior of the assembled dress, with every edge catch-stitched in place. The underlining serves as a “tablet” upon which you can make all kinds of notes!

The two big examples of Generosity are:

1) Cutting out the muslin, the underlining and the fashion fabric with very large seam allowances which give you the flexibility you might need to make changes in your final fitting.

2) Allowing – and taking – the time to do a lot of hand-sewing, fitting, and detail work.

If you look closely you can see the hand made loop and the “couture” attachment of the hook at the neck edge.

I ended up applying a bias facing to the sleeve edges. At my final fitting, I decided I wanted the sleeves a bit longer than I had originally anticipated, so the bias facing gave me another 3/4 inch in length. This is one more detail which Susan covers in her fabulous course!

Finally, Form and Function are well illustrated by these two examples:

1) A couture lining is always applied by hand, using the fell stitch. To insure that the lining will not “migrate” to the outside, it is secured by the very lovely pick stitch – doing the job (function) in a truly elegant way (form).

Here is the finished front neck edge, showing the “applied by hand” lining and the pick-stitches which keep the lining from migrating out of the dress!

2) The zipper (if you are using one) is a regular zipper (not invisible) which is set in by hand, again using the pick stitch.

The top part of my hand-picked zipper.

Now that you’ve gotten a few glimpses of my dress inside and out, here it is all finished:

The fabric is a teal green linen; the lining is matching crepe de chine, and the underlining is white silk organza.

Another view…

… and a back view.

One of the things that appeals to me so much about couture construction is how transferable it is to vintage patterns. In fact, I would go so far as to say that parts of this type of construction are implied in many vintage patterns. Here is an example from a construction sheet from the early’70s:

The instructions say to sew the zipper in by hand, the hooks and loops are shown in “couture” detail, and the hem treatment is very similar to one I learned in this course. One exception I should note here is that couture does not use facings as shown in the topmost drawing.

Consider for a moment this advantage of using vintage patterns over contemporary ones: contemporary patterns, which are usually “multi-sized”, are drawn with the cutting line only. To make one of these patterns usable for couture construction, you must add the stitching line onto the pattern tissue, adding another step in the whole process. Vintage patterns (except for unprinted ones, of course) have the stitching line drawn on the tissue – ready to be traced onto your muslin fabric (which becomes your ultimate pattern). All of which brings me to another alliterative phrase . . . as I find myself Valuing all the many Virtues of Very Versatile Vintage!

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Filed under couture construction, hand-sewn zippers, Linen, sewing in silk, Uncategorized, underlinings, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1970s, Vogue patterns

Tagged as couture construction, fashion sewing, sewing, vintage fashion, vintage Vogue patterns

Tag Archives: fashion sewing

Sewing SMART for 2013

Chance of Flurries

A Newly Defined ‘50s’ Frock

Green, green, and more green

A Timely Arrival

A Blouse by Any Other Name Would Be the Same

Who is Mrs. Exeter?

Missing in Action – or – Doesn’t everyone shop for fabric on vacation?

Spending time on the Cape.

Completely Captivating Couture Construction

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