Simplicity 4945 – Early 1960s Separates

It’s been quite a while since I have written a sewing post.  It’s not that I have not been sewing, it’s just that much of my winter was consumed in finishing a dress that took forever to make.   I probably would have abandoned the project, but I had been sharing my progress on it with my sister throughout her illness, and she enjoyed watching it shape up so much that I felt like I owed it to her to actually finish it.  I’ll share it in a later post.

I bought the pattern above for the pants, but after watching the Great British Sewing Bee I decided to do one of the challenges and make a blouse.  On the show the sewers had six hours to make their blouse, but they had to use a silky fabric.  I went with an easier to manage fabric, a cotton seersucker.  There is actually more contrast in the stripes than shows in my photos.

I’m not a big fan of “fast sewing.”  Some time ago I ran across several blogs where the challenge was to make so many garments in a month, and it just added up to a lot of clothes that I suspected would never be worn.  I’ve never been a fast sewer, as I love the calming effect of slowly working through a design.  And I’ve learned that it is better to take the time to pin and baste and do it right the first time.

So even though my pattern was relatively simple, it took the entire six hours for me to finish.  Actually, it took a little more as I hand-hemmed the sleeves and hem, but if I were really on a deadline, I could have machine-finished them in a few minutes.

I decided to give my blouse a bit more shape, so I altered the side seams to make the waist more narrow.  I also added vents at the side hem.  I had planned to put in the button, but I wore it without it and liked it, so now I’ll probably not bother.

I really like the way the sleeves are cut in one piece with the bodice yoke.  And it was very easy to do and was faster than set-in sleeves.  Not only that, but there is more mobility in the sleeve, due I suppose, to them being on the bias.

Next, I’m thinking about tackling the pants, which may take some time.  Pants are easy to sew, but hard to fit.  Wish me luck!

How to Turn Needlework into an Adventure

I think most people associate needlework with a woman sitting quietly, concentrating on her task.  But to think of it as an adventure?  This little book from 1958 sets us all straight.  It was written by Dorothy Dunbar Graef, and illustrated by Betsey Bates.  It appears that this is the only book penned by Graef.  Bates was a painter of quaint scenes that ended up on collectors plates.

The book is a combination of needlework history and crafts projects.  I imagine that most of the readers skipped right past the “in the old days” talk and went right to the fun stuff.  Or maybe I was the only kid that did that sort of thing.

The illustrations are cute in that mid-century sort of way that is so popular right now.  Looking back at it I can see that we Baby Boomers were lucky to have grown up with a design aesthetic that over time, has held up well.  These drawings still have a crisp, modern look.

But probably the most interesting thing about this book is that it is, for the large part, not gender specific.  You expect a book about sewing and embroidery and quilting to be aimed directly at girls, but here a large attempt was made to include boys in the adventure.  And this was during a time when boys would never have considered signing up for home ec in school.

But can you imagine all the clothes that were cut up in 1958 to make rugs?  My mother took a rug braiding class in the late 1960s, and one of their sources of wool was old clothes.  She ran an on-going rummage sale for our church, and all the 1940s and 50s wool skirts that were donated went straight to the rug class.  There was a stiff competition for the skirts with the rug hooking class.  It’s a miracle any wool survived this crafting craze.

At first I thought this was a knitting machine, but it actually a little loom. (Note that cool doggie)

What every guy wanted – a vest with appliqued and embroidered Christmas trees to match his best girl’s skirt.

My gosh, this could be a page straight out of an etsy crafter’s lookbook.

Creativity was encouraged.

And finally, I’m sorry about the fuzzy photo, but I just had to show this drawing with the girl in the poodle skirt.  Yep, that was the Fifties!

 

1970s Up-Cycled Shirt

Up-cycling is a 2000s term, but the concept behind the term is not.  Taking old clothes and turning them into something new or decorated goes way back, even further than the 1970s.  But like so many young crafters on etsy and 10 thousand DIY bloggers who think they invented the idea of re-using a garment, we girls of the 1960s and 70s thought we discovered recycling and crafting.

I usually don’t buy other people’s craft projects, but the shirt above is the quintessential 1970s crafted garment.  It is actually a man’s shirt – a navy issue chambray work shirt.  It’s very possible that it came from an army-navy store, one of the chief suppliers of clothing for all of us who were protesting the Vietnam War.  I actually have a similar shirt, but in denim, that I embroidered flowers and butterflies and such onto in 1972.

Don’t you just love how the stem goes through the hole?  What is that hole for, anyway?

There are even more appliqued flowers on the back, along with a speckled butterfly.

Nothing like a little eyelet edging to add a feminine touch!

From Shawl to Scarf

If you are a regular reader of this blog you know that I’m not a fan of mindless “up-cycling.”  I didn’t arrive at that opinion quickly or lightly.  I’m a child of the 60s and 70s, and those of my generation thought we invented the re-crafting of old clothes.  Of course that was not true, no more than the DIYers of today invented the idea.

No, as long as there have been textiles, people have taken the old and tried to make it new.  Collectors of old clothes often come across garments that are reincarnations of an older item.  One favored material for such up-dating was the paisley shawl.

Shawls were popular during the age of the crinoline, the mid 1800s.  They were huge and rectangular in shape, and were used as a warm wrap over the voluminous dresses.   The very best ones were quite expensive.   After skirts began to shrink, so did the shawls.  Eventually, they became passe’.  But that did not mean that people discarded them.

I’ve seen many garments dating from the Edwardian era and the 1920s made from paisley shawls.  Many of them were cut into jackets and into robes.  Smaller pieces became handbags.  Here is an example form the 1890s.

Click to enlarge. From Handbags, by Anna Johnson

Even today, shawls are being made into new items.  A few years back, slipper-maker Stubbs and Wootton did a paisley slipper made from old shawls.

Several years ago I found what had once been a robe made from paisley.  It was missing an arm and most of one side, but the price was right – 50 cents if my memory is correct – and I knew that eventually I’d use it for something.  It was in such terrible shape that this was one piece that could be remade without guilt.  A few weeks ago it occurred to me that it would make a lovely scarf.

In order to get a good length, I had to piece the fabric.  I arranged and cut, and then resewed the paisley.

Then I had several larger holes to deal with.  I used a patch, but I’m not entirely happy with the results.  I may take off the patches and go with embroidery around each hole.

Finally, I backed the paisley with a length of black wool flannel.

To see more paisley, visit Brenna Barks’ blog, where Monica Murgia has written about an exhibition at the Allentown Art Museum.

Making The Easy Scarf Dress

I recently picked up this 1970s pattern because I was curious about the process of making a dress from two scarves.  This is just the type of thing I was into when I was in high school and college.  In fact, I once made a mini dress out of a pillowcase after seeing it done on a local “home-maker” TV program, but that’s another story for another time.

This pattern says it is easy, and after looking at the pattern piece and the directions, I agree.  This is easy:

That is the entire set of instructions for the dress!  It would take you longer to cut this out than it would take to sew it up.  Two side seams, two inches on either side of the neck, and Voila!  A new scarf mini dress.  No finishing and no hemming required.

Seriously, I think this is a really fun idea.  The scarves would not even have to be identical.  And notice that in the view on the far left, two sheer scarves were made into a bikini cover-up.  But if you are tall and want to wear this as a dress, I suggest 36″ scarves.  Or you could use a smaller size to make a top.

Designer Sewing Patterns

Today’s post is an updated version of an article I wrote for my website, Fuzzylizzie.com.  I’ve been transferring these articles to The Vintage Traveler mainly because there is no interaction on the website, and it’s just more fun for things to be here where people can discuss them if they wish.

For a home sewer, the best way to get “the look for less” has always been to buy and make a dress from a pattern designed by her favorite designer.  And since the 1950s, there has been a large variety of designer patterns from which to choose.

Possibly the first designer patterns were published by the Paris Pattern Company.  Starting in 1929 this company released the designs of more than a dozen Paris couturiers.  They were sold through the Ladies’ Home Journal and in department stores.  Today these patterns are a rare find.

Advance patterns had some of the best ready-to-wear designers working for them in the 1950s.  Among the designers in their American Designers series were Anne Fogarty, Adrian, Madeleine Fauth and Tom Brigance.

In the 1960s Butterick did a line of designer patterns, Young Designers, which capitalized on the Youthquake trend.  Two of the best known designers in this group were Mary Quant of London and Betsey Johnson, but other bright Young Designers such as Jean Muir and Deanna Littell also did patterns for this series.  It continued into the 1970s, with designers such as Kenzo, Clovis Ruffin, Jane Tise and John Kloss.

I have quite a few of these patterns shown on a page I’ve made on the  Young Designers series.

McCall’s produced a line of designer inspired patterns in the 1920s and 30s. These are quite rare, but it is possible to find patterns by designers such as Patou and Schiaparelli.  In the 1950s, McCall’s started featuring some designers, such as Pucci (or Emilio of Capri, as his patterns were labeled) and Givenchy.  These Givenchy creations are very much in the style of the dresses he was making for Audrey Hepburn.  And in 1966, four designs from the Hepburn movie How to Steal a Million were adapted by McCall’s into patterns.

In the late 1950s and early 1960s, McCall’s also had patterns designed by American fashion designers.  Claire McCardell did designs for McCall’s, as did Geoffrey Beene and Pauline Trigere.

Vogue is probably the pattern company most associated with designer patterns and they continue to be a leader in this area. Vogue began doing designer adaptations in 1937, calling them “Couturier” patterns.

It was not until the late 1940s that Vogue began the Paris Original line, with designers like Schiaparelli, Patou and Lanvin. The Couturier line eventually was designed by other European designers such as Pucci and Simonetta, and it was not until 1967 that Vogue featured American designers in their new Americana line. Among these were Bill Blass, Oscar de la Renta and Diane Von Furstenberg.

Besides the major pattern companies, there were a few mail order companies that specialized in designer patterns.  Probably the best known is Spadea, originally called American Designers Patterns, which had a large and impressive list of designers working for them; Ceil Chapman, Jo Copeland, Philip Mangone, Tina Leser and Helen Rose were just a few.  Another brand, Prominent Designer Patterns, featured Oleg Cassini, Estevez and David Crystal.

While adapting this writing for the blog I was surprised to see how many times I’ve actually written about designer patterns.  I’ve done a bit of linkage so if any of the designers I’ve mentioned here sound interesting, just give them a click and you’ll be taken to an older post.

Elegance Magazine, Mid 1960s

I’ve mentioned several times in the past what a great resource the old American Fabrics magazine is for people who love old clothes and textiles.  The inclusion of fabric swatches give a much more complete picture of what a fabric was actually like as to texture and color.   And while, as the name suggests, most of the fabrics were of American manufacture, the publication did sometimes feature fabrics from other countries.  But to see the crème de la crème of European fabrics, the publication to get was Elegance.

I never knew about this gem until fellow vintage fan Susan let me know she had three of these that she is selling from an extensive collection of vintage clothing related items.  From her email about them:

…they appear to be a collaboration between Elysee Fabrics, a German company that supplied couturiers and clothing manufacturers, and Vogue patterns;  typically, the magazine has full page, full color photos of Paris couture by really famous photographers like Helmut Newton, with an actual swatch of the Elysee fabric the couturier used, and then a sketch of a Vogue pattern that resembles the photographed couture garment, plus , other, similar Elysee fabric swatches that would also make up well in that pattern.  Sometimes they just make up a Vogue pattern out of the fabric and have it photographed. 

These are now for sale at ebay, and yes, they are a bit pricey.  That is because they are very desirable and hard to come by.  Even if you can’t afford to buy them, definitely take a look at all the lovely photos.  And if it leaves you wanting more, you might check out Paper Pursuits, where they have quite a few issues for sale.  And be sure to put this magazine on your shopping radar.  You just never know when a few copies might show up at the local Goodwill.

Here are a few pages that I loved.  Be sure to click for the enlarged image.

All photos copyright Susan Grote