Tag Archives: Pendleton wool

May 19, 2026 · 5:48 pm

And Now I Match my Chair, Part 2

Isn’t a good pattern worth its weight in gold?  When I purchased this jacket pattern several years ago, I just liked it, no plans in place, and thought the day might come when I could use it.  The more I studied it with my Pendleton blanket in mind, the more I thought it was perfect for my project.  First task, of course, was to make a muslin toile and check the fit and size. 

View B is the version I intended to use.

By now, November and early December had passed with my life taken over by bathroom renovations and holidays looming on the horizon. We headed back to Wyoming for Christmas, and then the new year of 2026 dawned, with all its promise and things unknown.  January was the perfect time to get back to my project. The jacket as designed was to be fully lined, either with fleece, contrasting fabric, or self-lined. I determined I would need to line the sleeves, while the rest of the jacket should remain unlined.  However, I needed a facing for the shawl collar and front edges. Because there was a pattern piece for interfacing the collar and front edges, I thought I could use that for my facing.  My toile confirmed that for me.  

I used the interfacing (minus the hood extension) in the lower right corner of the diagram for my coat facing.

The coat muslin seemed very large overall on me, requiring a lot of alteration.  It can be tricky with coats, as enough ease must be allowed for wearing a heavier sweater or layers underneath. Also, the thickness and relative non-fluidity of the blanket dictated a looser fit.  I spent a few days perfecting my toile.  Then the real test was upon me.

I took my muslin apart, producing pattern pieces to fit onto my fabric/blanket. Was making this jacket out of what I had left of the blanket even going to be possible? If so, how would the placement of the pattern pieces on the very graphic and large design work out? 

I got to work with everything spread out on my dining room table, starting with two main objectives: 1) The large “dragonfly” motif on the blanket would be centered on the back of the jacket, and 2) I wanted the “portrait” or neckline area of the shawl collar to feature the dominant color of red. 

I had to use the entire width of the blanket, without an inch to spare in the final layout, for the pieces of the main body of the coat. This layout gave me the the red collar I wanted and the center motif of the blanket centered on the coat back. Visible on the lower part of the picture is the where the upholsterer had cut the fabric.
This is the opposite end of the blanket, where I needed to position the sleeves and, potentially, patch pockets. This is where it got a little tricky. That black “sawtooth” panel, a dominate woven feature, was going to make or break the fluidity of the overall look of the coat.

From there the fabric told me what I could do and what I could not do, and the best way to explain my decisions is to show you the finished coat.

1) I determined the dominate black stripe across the sleeves (see below) absolutely had to be centered on the black stripe across the front of the coat (and consequently centered on the main motif on the back.) However, the width of the two stripes were not the same. 2) The only way I could center them was to wiggle around the placement of the sleeves on the fabric. I had not originally intended to put black “cuffs” on the sleeves, but that turned out to be the only way I could center the black stripes on each other, by moving the sleeves off the edge of the fabric, and adding “cuffs” to get the sleeve length I needed.
First, I cut out the main pieces of the coat. (I had Plan B in place already, knowing by now I would have to piece the lower edges/cuff on the sleeves.) That gave me more flexibility on determining exactly how those two black design features would lineup to best effect.
I was sweating bullets, even with Plan B, when I realized how much I had to wiggle the sleeves down off the edge of the fabric to get those black design features centered on each other. In this photo you can see the scraps of black fabric (reversible to red) I intended to use for the “cuffs.” Fortunately I found that I could successfully remove the binding on the blanket, gaining me another 3/4 inch in length – which meant the piecing I needed to do on the cuffs would be a pleasing width.
Here is the back of the jacket. I was very pleased with how well the sleeves lined up with it.

I thought it would be “easy” after getting to this point. Easy is not a word I should ever use while sewing. I should know that by now. Every seam had to pressed with loads of steam, followed by a clapper to help set it, usually more than once. Every exposed seam edge needed to be encased with rayon tape. I split the two vertical darts and needed to hand-stitch the raw edges to prevent fraying. Every seam needed to be basted together before machine sewing in order to keep the horizontal lines in the design matched.  

Here and below are looks at the interior seam binding I did on all the exposed edges – and the fabulous labels which I took from the blanket and attached on the coat front facing.

Here is the back interior of the jacket, showing the sleeve linings (I used lightweight cotton batiste that had a slight sheen) and how I finished the raw edges of the center back neckline.

I had found a set of taupe-colored vintage buttons in my collection which, at first glance, did not look like they would work. But after auditioning black buttons and red buttons, I was convinced those taupe ones would be perfect.  However, I had no idea how I was going to do buttonholes in that thick fabric. I fiddled around with fabric scraps to make practice bound buttonholes, using a lightweight fabric for the “lips.” They looked awful.  I thought of using large snaps and just securing the buttons on the coat front for effect. That did not appeal to me at all.  So I went to my two failsafe sewing maxims:  1) I’ll figure it out later, and 2) Plan B – it BETTER work.

The jacket was practically finished before I found a method to make those buttonholes. Because the fabric was so thick, I could successfully only do a machine buttonhole on one layer of it. I experimented around and discovered if I made the buttonhole on the front of the coat, I could then line up the facing and use a straight machine stitch through both layers around the buttonhole. I used very small stitches to make it secure. Then I sliced them open. It worked!

I had to remove the facing to make the machine buttonholes and then stitch it back on before continuing. I could not have seen that coming since I really did not know early on how in the world I was going to make these buttonholes!
This picture shows the buttonholes all finished and completely functional! Also, this is an interesting view of the front of the coat. I was kind of wringing my hands over the center front of the coat. I did not have enough fabric to balance the design across the center front. And then I realized, even if I had had enough fabric to do that, it would not have worked. The reason? I would not have been able to balance those small dragonfly motifs on either side – or – they would have been pushed too much to either side to make sense for the design. To my eye, that balance was the more important one. One more thing… I did not have enough fabric to make patch pockets for the coat. I considered making inseam pockets out of the black batiste, but I was concerned they may cause distortion of the side seams due to the heavy nature of the fabric. I finally decided to forego pockets altogether. After wearing the coat next winter, I can always come back to the pocket conundrum if I decide pockets are a must. Right now in my mind, they are not.

Are you still reading at this point? Or did I lose you back at the dining room table?

Almost finished! The final touches on the coat involved under stitching the collar to hold the turn in place, and securing the sleeve lining to the underside of the black “cuffs.” 

What do you think of the black cuffs? I had no choice but to do them this way; hopefully they look intentional rather than contrived.

Understitching on the collar.
Hand stitching holding the sleeve linings in place.

I have to say I was pretty thrilled with how my jacket turned out, considering the parameters facing me.  

Now I do indeed match my chair! More importantly, however, I have a very classic, one-of-a-kind, Pendleton wool, western-style jacket which is going to be fun – and warm – to wear.  

48 Comments

Filed under Blankets and doll blankets, Buttons - choosing the right ones, car coats, Coats, fabric labels, Pendleton Woolen Mills, Sleeves, Uncategorized, vintage buttons, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, woolens

Tagged as , , , , , , , , , ,

May 15, 2026 · 6:09 pm

And Now I Match My Chair, Part 1

It all started with a chair.  Well, maybe not.  My yearning for a coat made from a western-style blanket actually started inside the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. For those of you unfamiliar with Pendleton Woolen Mills, here’s the (abbreviated) scoop on this great American company. 

 An English weaver by the name of Thomas Kay made his way to Oregon in 1863. (Think about that for a minute!)  His descendants, the Bishop family, built upon the weaving foundation Kay established and started Pendleton Woolen Mills in Pendleton, Oregon in 1909. In its first decade, the company produced colorfully patterned blankets and robes for local Native American tribes, thereby setting a brand distinction for the company. In 1916, Pendleton introduced the Glacier National Park blanket, the start of a wide-ranging series of National Park products. (New blankets and designs are still being added to this line today.) In 1924 the company introduced its first line of apparel – men’s woolen shirts – followed over the coming decades by women’s apparel and expanded offerings in apparel, home furnishings and of course, blankets. At the heart of the product lines is a commitment to American craftsmanship, the embrace of Native American design, and pride in its family ownership over six generations. Their products are available in their retail stores, on the web, and by printed catalog.  

Back to the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. Their women’s offerings always showcase several coats, jackets, and ponchos made from Native American inspired blankets (and made in the USA, for extra good measure). They are gorgeous and distinctive and classic. So much so, that a few years ago my daughter purchased one (with a little $ help from Mom.)

This is the Pendleton coat my daughter purchased; photo is from the web.

She already had a stunning Pendleton wool poncho, a gift from her husband. As we all know, one can never have too much outerwear, right? Well, all this American craftsmanship and design and head-turning apparel of course started me looking at Pendleton blankets-turned-coats from the viewpoint of one who sews – and one who thinks “I could make one of those!”

The seed was planted, waiting for germination.  

With my existing sewing queue already groaning under its own weight, I deferred action on this idea indefinitely. And then, in late August of 2025, I found an Old Hickory small hoop chair (another great American company known for its craftsmanship) in a consignment store.

This is the Old Hickory chair I purchased from HOME AGAIN, a consignment store in Jackson, Wyoming. I was not a fan of the “bucking bronco” motif on the seat back.

I purchased the chair with the knowledge I would need to change the upholstery on the seat back. (The seat is covered in leather, which is perfect for our household which includes two cats prone to some scratching.)

I was already familiar with examples of Old Hickory hoop chairs upholstered in Pendleton blanket wools, as shown here:

Screenshot

Of course, the wheels started turning in my head, and I made a stop at the Pendleton store to look at blankets. One jumped out at me for its colors and design. 

This is an image from the Pendleton website.

Could I possibly get two projects out of one twin sized blanket (the only size produced in this design)?  The chair seat back AND a jacket? I thought so but it would be tight – and a gamble at the price point.  Not one to shy away from a sewing challenge, I purchased the blanket. This was either going to be a very expensive upholstered seat back OR a “twofer” bargain which would give me both a new look for my chair and a one-of-a-kind jacket. I figured I would know my fate sometime over the course of the next several months.

The first step was to get the chair and the blanket to an upholsterer, which I did.  Relinquishing the blanket to him, I explained my intention of making a jacket out of the leftover wool. He looked at me dubiously. 

“I sew a lot,” I explained. 

He still looked at me dubiously. I talked with him about the layout for the seat back.  I hoped, I said to hm, that he could just take from one end of the blanket, leaving about two thirds of it intact?  He nodded in understanding. He said he would do what he could. I’m sure he thought I was crazy.

The upholsterer is a busy guy, so it took several weeks before the chair was ready.  But when he returned it to me, not only did it look terrific, but the remainder of the blanket was about the length I thought it would be. I was hopeful.

By now it was October, very close to the time when we depart our summer home in Wyoming and head back to Pennsylvania, a time when all sewing comes to a screeching halt as I pack and organize and clean.  The timing turned out to be perfect, however, as most of my vintage patterns were in Pennsylvania – and I needed to look for a jacket pattern for my project.  

I knew any pattern I selected had to be one with fairly simple lines and adaptable to being unlined. Pendleton blankets are beautifully heavy and warm, perfect for cozy sleeping.  Made into coats and jackets they are also heavy and warm, but better suited to styles with few darts, notches and complex seaming. Luckily I had a pattern in my collection, dated 1959, which appeared to be perfect – with a shaw collar, raglan sleeves, and 2 long darts descending from the shoulder to the bust.  

From the pattern instruction sheet: minimal pattern pieces were perfect for this project. Of course, I cut off the “hood” for my jacket, and as it turned out, I did not add patch pockets. More about that in Part 2.

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

To be continued…

23 Comments

Filed under Blankets and doll blankets, Buttons - choosing the right ones, car coats, Pendleton Woolen Mills, Uncategorized, vintage buttons, vintage Vogue patterns from the 1950s, Vogue patterns, woolens

Tagged as , , , ,

August 23, 2015 · 6:18 pm

Saddle Up!

Western style (as in American cowgirl and cowboy) is not something that regularly occupies my mind – until I see something that is quintessentially Western fashion, and then it grabs my attention. I have often wondered if the styling on the pattern envelope for my color-blocked coat, featuring the model in a Western-style cowboy-inspired hat, may have been added to my great predilection for this coat!

Coats of certain length - 7

Because I knew I was going to be spending a good bit of my 2015 Summer in Wyoming (in the American West), I thought it might be fun to see if I could find Vogue patterns (or anything else) featured in any of my vintage Vogue Pattern Book Magazines, that were clearly Western style.  Well, there is no doubt about the Western theme of this decorator fabric pictured in an ad in the February/March issue of VPB Magazine:

What little cowboy - or cowgirl - in 1958 would not love curtains made of this fabric?

What little cowboy – or cowgirl – in 1958 would not love curtains made of this fabric?

And what could be more Western than cowboy and cowgirl shirts? The July/August 1974 issue of VPB Magazine clearly met my challenge:

Western style - shirts, no 1

Western style - shirts, no 2

Somehow, however, I just can’t see myself making a cowgirl shirt. Out here in Wyoming, it would look like it belongs. Wearing something like this at home in Pennsylvania might get heads turning for the wrong reason. So my search continued for something else that evoked the West without screaming it. Who would have ever thought I was going to find it in the same Vogue Pattern Book Magazine that featured Diane von Furstenberg on its cover?

Sure enough, this September/October 1976 issue featured a coat constructed out of an American-made blanket. (Anyone who reads my blog will perhaps remember the jumper I made from an Irish blanket last year. When one can’t find yardgoods, buy a blanket and see what happens!)

Western style - coat-1

Accompanying the picture in the magazine were these instructions for making a “blanket coat” using Vogue pattern 9329:

Western style - coat instructions

Forty years later the same thing is being done with Pendleton blankets. I never miss the opportunity to look at the handsome Western and Native American-inspired Pendleton blankets in the Pendleton Store in Jackson, Wyoming. Hanging on one of the clothing racks in the store was this custom-made coat:

This particular coat was made for a very large lady, which just goes to show that a twin size blanket is sufficient for all sizes of coats.

This particular coat was made for a very large lady, which just goes to show that a twin size blanket is sufficient for all sizes of coats.

The back of the coat.

The back of the coat.

Made, as stated above, from a twin-size blanket, the coat can be made in long, medium or short lengths, with hood or without hood, with pockets or without them – and it is reversible, too. Customers in the store pick out the blanket they like, measurements are taken: both are sent off to a coat-maker, with whom the store has a relationship, and returned about 6 weeks later. The construction is very much the same as what is detailed in the instructions above; however, the coat-maker removes the narrow wool binding from the blanket before cutting into it. Then she uses that binding for all the edges of the coat.

The lovely staff in the Pendleton store pulled out this blanket to tempt me:

The grey, white and periwinkle blue color way would definitely compliment me, I think.

The grey, white and periwinkle blue colorway would definitely compliment me, I think.

So far, however, I have resisted the urge to make a blanket coat, although it might be a fun project with just the right blanket – sometime. But for now I am saddling up to head East, home to beloved Pennsylvania, back to animals and pets I love, back to my by-now-overgrown gardens, and back to my snug little sewing machine who must be wondering where I have been!

9 Comments

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

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

January 18, 2014 · 5:28 pm

Thoughts on Fabric

One theme I often see in New Year’s sewing resolutions is an emphasis on sewing from one’s “stash” rather than purchasing more new fabric.  I don’t know too many serious sewers who don’t harbor at least a little guilt about all the fabric they have squirreled away (the word “stash” actually does imply something put away, usually in a secretive place!).  I used to feel a lot more guilt about all my fabric than I do now, and here’s why.  First, I don’t consider my fabric a “stash” of anything.  I look at it as a collection, to be used, admired, and taken care of like any valuable thing.  And second, I believe having a selection/collection of beautiful and inspirational fabric adds to the creative process of sewing.

As with the selection and collection of any worthwhile genre, it’s usually best to buy the best you can afford.   There used to be much more stated emphasis on “quality” in fabric than there is now.   It is so interesting to me that fabric manufacturers used to advertise their products by name, obviously with great pride in their newest line of designs.  Some of the manufacturers were almost household names, with tag lines such as  “A fabric you can lean on – that’s Klopman”.  Woolens were known by their manufacturer’s name, such as Forstman and Anglo, to mention just two.  The same was true for cottons, linens, silks, and synthetics. So many of the full-page advertisements in Vogue Pattern Book Magazine in the 1950s, ‘60s, and ‘70s were from fabric manufacturers (whereas now there are virtually none).  Here is a quick look at some from each of those decades:

Moygashel Linen advertised heavily in VPB Magazine during that 30-year span of time.  Here is an ad from the inside front cover of the December/January 1953/54 issue:

Thoughts on Fabric - 54

“The first name in linen… The last word in quality”

Moygashel was also one of those fabric companies which supplied labels with purchases of their linens.  Here is a string of labels, which came with a recent purchase I made of vintage Moygashel:

Thoughts on Fabric - Moygashel w: tag

Many new synthetic fabrics were being developed in the post-war era, as evidenced by the many ads from manufacturers of these yard goods.  Here is an ad for acetate, made by the Celanese Corporation of America.  It appeared in the February/March 1957 issue of Vogue Pattern Book Magazine.

Thoughts on Fabric - 57

In the same issue was this full page ad for Wamsutta cotton prints.  Now known primarily for sheets, Wamsutta once had the tagline “it has to be WAMSUTTA!” which many a home sewer knew as a sign of quality.

Thoughts on Fabric - 57-2

European fabrics also found their place in VPB.  Here is an ad from February/March 1964 for Boussac screen-printed cottons.  “A collection of rich designer fabrics used by the haute couture of the world.”

Thoughts on Fabric - 64

I want to show you something else in that same issue.  Although there was not a dedicated ad for American Silk, Vogue pattern #6105 was sewn in American Silk, as stated in its accompanying caption.

How I would love to find a piece of this silk tucked away in some drawer!

How I would love to find a piece of this silk tucked away in some drawer!

Twelve years later, in 1976, I attended a fashion show featuring the various dress silks made by this company for the home sewing market, another example of the effort put into marketing by specific fabric manufacturers.

By 1972, the look of VPB Magazine was becoming more sophisticated, but those full-page fabric ads were still abundant.  Here is an ad in the October/November issue devoted to Qiana, a nylon made by DuPont:

Thoughts on Fabric - 72

And – Crompton is velvet appeared a few pages further in the same issue:

Thoughts on Fabric - 72-2

In September/October 1976, Diane von Furstenberg was featured on the cover, and Ernest Einiger had a full-page color ad for “The Great American Wools”.

Thoughts on Fabric - 76-3

In the same issue, Britex Fabrics in San Francisco offered a buy-by-mail offer for Ultrasuede, the “it” fabric of the decade!

Thoughts on Fabric - 76-2

I can really only think of a few current fabric lines that still retain the distinction of being “known” by their names: Liberty, Pendleton, and Linton Tweeds come to mind.  (Linton Direct advertises in the current VPB magazine, but it is a small column ad, not a full-page “look at me” type of statement.) Then, of course, there are designer fabrics, but the manufacturers of these “name” goods are generally not listed.  For the most part, unless you ask, when you are buying yard goods, the names of the manufacturers are virtually unknown.  It is really kind of a shame, as there are so many exquisite fabrics of the highest quality still being woven in certain parts of the world.  These fabrics (and others, some vintage) make it difficult to say “no” to the opportunity to add to one’s fabric collection.  Here are two such fabrics I could not resist:

This is a linen and cotton blend I purchased from Mood Fabrics a while ago. It is patiently waiting to be cut and sewn . . .

This is a loosely woven linen and cotton blend I purchased from Mood Fabrics a while ago. It is patiently waiting to be cut and sewn . . .

This is a vintage linen, newly acquired by me. Although there is nothing printedon the selvedge, I believe it is a Moygashel linen from the 1950s.

This is a vintage linen, newly acquired by me. Although there is nothing printed on the selvedge, I believe it is a Moygashel linen from the 1950s.  I plan to make a sheath dress from this fabric sometime during the Summer of 2014.

William Blake notably said “The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.”  I must confess I never knew what that meant until I applied it, somewhat sheepishly,  to collecting fabrics.  It seems the more various and beautiful fabrics I can look at and choose from, the more I am able to determine the perfect pattern with which to pair them.  If I own the fabric already, so much the better!  Sometimes the fabric dictates the sort of garment I should make and sometimes I have a pattern which leads me to my (excessive?) fabric collection, where I can admire anew and oftentimes choose a long-before purchased length of the perfect silk, linen, cotton, or wool.  It is a back and forth process, one filled with visual and tactile components, demanding – and developing – sewing wisdom.  It is one of the reasons I love to sew.

20 Comments

Filed under Liberty cotton, Linen, Love of sewing, Moygashel linen, Polka dots, The Conde Nast Publications, Uncategorized, woolens

Tagged as , , , , , , , , ,

January 29, 2013 · 10:02 pm

New Life from an Old Dress

I’m sure I never would have entertained the thought of remaking/repurposing this dress  –

I made this maternity dress in the Fall of 1980 while pregnant with our first child.

I made this maternity dress in the Fall of 1980 while pregnant with our first child. The fabric is US-made Pendleton wool.

– had Emerald Green not emerged as THE color of 2013.  As it was, it seemed silly not to take advantage of this opportunity to make a skirt in a color I love, from a dress that would not be worn again, and which already carried sentimental memories.  So I told myself repeatedly, “Do this.”  And so I did it, but not without much mental anguish.

Before I did any ripping of seams or cutting of fabric, I needed to decide what kind of a skirt I could make, knowing that, even with a maternity tent-style dress, the usable expanse of fabric was limited.  It seemed fairly obvious that a pencil or A-line skirt was about the extent of the possibilities.  But I wanted some kind of a focal point on it, too.  I kept thinking about the fringed Pendleton wool skirt that I had remade, thinking that fringe on this green one would be quite nice as well.  I did a little testing on an inside seam of the dress and determined the wool was so tightly woven, that any “fringing” would have to be somewhat minimal.  It also seemed to be easier to unravel the threads working up and down rather than across.  I figured if I could wiggle out enough fabric to add one overlap (or pleat) at the side front, I could fringe that edge and get the focal point I wanted.

With this plan in mind, I now had to face cutting apart – and into – this dress, which I so clearly remembered making and wearing over 31 years ago.  Honestly, for a couple of days I really couldn’t face this.  My practical side finally triumphed when I decided I would first separate just the side seams on the dress.  If I chickened out at that point, I could always sew it back together, right?  Right!  And so I snipped and snipped and pretty soon I had two usable sections of wool.

The dress with the side seams separated.

The dress with the side seams separated.

Then –  somehow, miraculously, I was suddenly okay with the thought of cutting into this dress.  The back part of the skirt pattern fit perfectly on the back section of the dress – it was even already seamed for me.

My muslin pattern positioned on the back of the dress.

My muslin pattern positioned on the back of the dress.

The front part of the dress gave me enough room to make a new two-piece front, with a pleat on the left side.  I cut out the pieces and set about to fringing.  Re-runs of Downton Abbey helped tremendously with this – I pulled and picked and created fluffy little towers of green threads while totally absorbed in another time and place.

Then it was back to the sewing room to sew this baby (pardon the bad pun) together.  There was not enough fabric  to fashion a waistband on the straight of grain, so I opted to make an inside pieced-together facing instead.

The facing at the waistline. I attached the 31-year-old Pendleton label in place after all these years!

The facing at the waistline. I attached the 31-year-old Pendleton label in place after all these years!

Then I made a button tab out of bias tape which I just happened to have on hand in emerald green.  What I could not find was a 7” zipper in emerald, nor lining fabric in emerald.  Guess the manufacturers of such items did not get the memo from Pantone about the color of the year!  So I ended up with a black zipper and dark gray Bemberg lining fabric.

The black zipper and gray lining are okay, I think...

The black zipper and gray lining are okay, I think…

I went round and round with a decision about buttons to hold the top part of the pleat in place.  I found several single buttons in my button box, which I really liked, but I really needed two or three.   A trip to Joann’s yielded some pale gray pearl buttons which would have been lovely, except that one broke after I got home when I was taking it off the card!  So I still have to resolve the button issue – as right now I  have exactly one button on the skirt, although I do like its diamond shape quite well…

The fringe detail on the pleat - and the single button. Sure wish I had another one of these!

The fringe detail on the pleat – and the single button. Sure wish I had another one of these!

It's finished (except for the button issue, of course!).

It’s finished (except for the button issue, of course!).

green skirt

The back view.

The back view.

Thinking back on this project, I believe the signs were there, telling me to make this skirt.  Consider that I found these Stubbs and Wootton shoes – green and black Buffalo Check to go with my Pendleton wool:

How I love these comfy flats!

How I love these comfy flats!

And among my collection of silk scarves was this scarf, purchased in the 1980’s from the Museum of American Folk Art, featuring one of their quilts in predominant colors of pink and – yes, Emerald Green.

The green in this scarf could not be more perfect.

The green in this scarf could not be more perfect.

A detail of the scarf on top of the skirt.

A detail of the scarf on top of the skirt.

So – where do I envision wearing this skirt?  How about to a baby shower for my daughter, now expecting her own little one?  After all, she herself  was once sheltered by these warm woolen threads of green – and love.

14 Comments

Filed under 1980's dress patterns, Buttons - choosing the right ones, hand-sewn zippers, Scarves, Uncategorized, woolens

Tagged as , , , , ,

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

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!

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!

With a few hang lines after 32 years!

DSC_0737

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.

A pristine label, still attached to its card…

... with care instructions on the back.

… with care instructions on the back.

This time around I plan to use it!

14 Comments

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

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

November 20, 2012 · 6:18 pm

Fancying Fringe

A number of years ago I purchased a fringed skirt from a Pendleton Wool Women’s Apparel catalogue.  I loved it when it arrived at my door – the fabric was soft and beautiful and the styling was a simple A-line skirt.  Even though I ordered a Petite in my regular size, I should have sent it back for a smaller one; it was just too baggy and too long, even when paired with boots.

The skirt before it’s make-over – very baggy.

Over the years I kept moving it back and forth from my cedar closet with the change of seasons, but I had found myself not wearing it, and wishing I could.  So this year, when once again it emerged out of the cedar depths for the trek into my bedroom closet, I made the decision to do something about it.  I would remake it.  I’m not sure what took me so long to come to this decision, but I was certainly inspired by the fringed Pendleton wool dress featured in one of my recent posts:

The winner of this category of the Make It With Wool contest built her outfit around a piece of black fringed Pendleton wool. (Threads, January 2013, page 52)

First I took out the zipper.  Then I picked out the seam connecting the waist facing to the body of the skirt.  I set the lining/skirt facing sections aside and tackled the skirt.

I had to determine the exact length I wanted the skirt to be, and work up from there.  Since it was not just length that needed to be adjusted, but also the all around fit, I knew I needed to use a reliable skirt pattern to re-cut the front and back sections.  I was so happy with the fit of the slim skirt I had just made, that it was an easy decision to go with that again.  I determined the straight grain of the front and back sections and put the muslin sections on top.

The muslin pattern placed on the front and back skirt sections.

Making sure I have the finished hemline placed correctly.

Since this skirt would not be underlined, I had to transfer the new seam and dart lines with chalk directly onto the wool fabric.  I measured again and again to make sure I had the right length (since I certainly could not make adjustments to the fringed end!) Then I cut, sewed darts and side seams.  I put a new zipper in by hand.

The new hand-picked zipper.

Then I was ready to remake the lining.  This was simpler, as I could use the existing waist facing (just taking it in a bit), which was still basically attached to the lining, and work from the top down. I split open the side seams, took them in commensurate to the re-cut skirt front and back, and re-sewed them.  Once the facing was reattached, all I had to do was cut off and re-sew the lining hem, and then  slipstitch the lining around the zipper.

The re-made lining back inside the skirt, label intact.

My new, old skirt.

A back view.

I am so happy with this re-make.  It’s the perfect skirt to pair with a sweater and tights – and that fringe around the hem makes it fun to wear and just a step above the commonplace.

Now it’s back to sewing from “scratch.”

POST SCRIPT:  I’m delighted to say that Cissie is the winner of my first give-away – the very small Little Black Dress.  Cissie – please send your delivery information to  fiftydresses@gmail.com and I’ll get your very small package in the mail right away!

18 Comments

Filed under hand-sewn zippers, Uncategorized, woolens

Tagged as ,