This Easter I broke my tradition and was not able to find time to sew something new for the holiday. Therefore, let’s throw it back to an old Easter-tide dress which has not yet made an appearance on my blog! Back in March of 2016 I had a very fun experiment in color blocking with three solid colors, which I made use of to help highlight the unusual lines. As my title gives away, I made a Basque-waist dress – a charming design that is sadly uncommon in modern garments. Also called a “corset waist”, this carryover from the Victorian times is a feature that presents a tailored waistline that extends the bodice down to the hips, from which a full skirt hangs. The way that the year 1940 interpreted the Basque-waist is so pretty and appealing to me!
THE FACTS:
FABRIC: a rayon and cotton blended gabardine
PATTERN: Butterick #9316, from July of 1940; supplemented by two waistband pieces from both Simplicity #2180 from 2011 (which I used to sew this animal print sundress posted here) and Simplicity 2655 from 2009
NOTIONS NEEDED: lots of thread and one zipper
TIME TO COMPLETE: I made this dress in about 12 hours and finished it at the end of March 2016.
THE INSIDES: cleanly finished in bias binding
TOTAL COST: This fabric was bought over 12 years ago and I do not remember the cost. I do remember that I got really good deals on each individual cut. The ivory and blue portions were half a yard, the purple was a 2 ½ yard cut.
This pattern was one of the first handful of vintage patterns I acquired for my own stash so very long ago now. It was very cheap to acquire due to the fact it was both incomplete and in “junior miss” proportions. Yes, this is design for teenage girls! This might explain the sweet and simple styling of the design. Also, a Basque-waistline is a great way to lengthen and slim the figure in a full skirt – and what teen doesn’t want to look taller than they really are?! I am about an inch off from being petite, and so I (correctly) figured a design for a teen should be good for my own shorter proportions. Anyways, when I bought this, I was trying to grow my small pattern collection and figured a few missing pieces wouldn’t be hard to replicate. As it turned out, I was able to use some modern pattern pieces to mimic the ones I was missing. This was amongst my first few experiences with an unprinted pattern at that time, and so I was glad to incorporate even a few modern tissue pieces to help me feel at ease.
The envelope back suggested this dress be made out of silk satin or rayon jersey knit. These materials would give the dress a quite different look than mine. The cotton and rayon blend gabardine I used is still soft, but its thicker weight and twill weave do provide some structure. I wanted a crisp fabric to give the fitted waist and full skirt support. After all, the fabric suggestions also list taffeta, a linen, or woolens as possible materials. Mentally picturing this dress in a silk satin or rayon jersey, I see it as becoming romantic, drapey, and ultra-feminine much like the flowing designs of couturiers Madame Grès or Valentina. It’s not common to find a pattern that can be made of either a woven or a knit, and interpreted with either a stiff or a soft material. This pattern is a gem under its plain, unassuming cover.
What I found most interesting about these fabric suggestions is that the instructions give slightly differing construction techniques if one is using a knit or satin versus the other woven materials. I have not yet seen such thought-out instructions which change according to fabric choice. Most vintage patterns seem to assume the user already knows what they are doing and don’t give much in the way of tricks or tips, as this one does. My particular pattern was still using their “Deltor” branding on the instructions, though. This was a trademarked system Butterick started offering at the beginning of the 1930s in order to compete with the printed patterns McCall Company came out with in the late 1920s. The “Deltor” promises accurately marked pattern pieces and an instruction sheet which clearly “shows you in pictures” how to cut, mark, and finish your Butterick pattern. 1940 was the last year I have seen a vintage Butterick pattern using the “Deltor” instructions.
I feel as though solid color dresses are usually not my go-to pieces, and therefore deciding on one single tone is always a big commitment for me to make for a project. This dress was a nice spin on going with a solid color…because here I chose three! I was going for the idea that the dress’ colors gets darker as the eye goes down. Also, it was whatever three colors of the same fabric which paired well but were available at my local fabric store at the time. Both purple and blue (of any shade) are my top favorite colors so I figured I couldn’t go wrong with pairing them with a classy but basic creamy ivory. I’ve done my fair share of color blocking before, especially for my Agent Carter inspired projects, but then I was almost always working with only two colors. The closest I have come to color blocking with multiple tones was for both my “Tennis Top” and my 1930s Snow White inspired “rags” dress, the latter of which similarly has hints of bright eggshell blue and ivory! My Pinterest page for a color blocking ideas can be enjoyed here.
At first try-on, the blue of the Basque-waistline felt a bit overwhelming. It seemed necessary to break up the blue waist paneling with another color via a belt…and I felt that color needed to pull from the skirt and not be a new tone to introduce. I was so happy to have had a matching purple belt already on hand, to test out my theory immediately. My belt is me-made, but not sewn for this project. I actually used up the entirety of my purple fabric on the skirt of my dress, with no scraps leftover. My belt is from another purple dress project – this 1947 faux-suspenders piece (posted here). As the belt’s material is rougher, plainer cotton, the color is slightly darker tone of purple than my finer gabardine, but it still pairs well as a stand in for my lack of a purple belt. Plus, it makes my outfit 100% self-made!
The hem length mysteriously turned out much longer on me than the pattern designed. I however like it that way and so left the length as it was. I can see this longer skirt turning the dress an excellent prom choice for a teenager of 1940! The shorter hem would probably have it look more like the stereotypical 1940s length but the longer skirt gives my dress more of a late 1930s air.
Nevertheless, I am merely exploring the nuances of fashion and find that 20th century Basque-waist dresses are rather timeless. Their general styling is rather unchanged for all the revivals that can be found between the 1930s and the 1980s. Each decade within this time frame had their own spin on the Basque-waist dress. As much as I adore the look of the bright Basque color blocked Oscar de la Renta designs of the 1980s (such as this one or this one), I also enjoy the more remotely Basque inspired dropped but closely-fitted waists popular on 1950s dresses (enough to assemble a Pinterest page for the theme). I love seeing all the different ways to interpret the same style!
There is perhaps no greater moment for the color blocked Basque-waist dress than in the Fall/Winter 1976 “Ballets Russes Opéras” collection that Yves Saint Laurent presented in Paris. Music was played for the first time in the background of a fashion show and the atmosphere was supposedly one of superior excitement and novelty.
These fashions were ultimately inspired by the traditional dress of women in the Basque Country, a autonomous region spanning the border between Spain and France. I have seen some facts imply that Basque dance moves evolved into a classical French ballet dance steps. This merging may have come from the close relationship the Stewart dynasty had with the French, especially after the restoration of Charles II to the throne of England in 1660. His was a period which saw a flourishing Court culture, and it is said Basque dancers were kept at court as palace entertainment. Such full skirts to a Basque-waist dress not only gave freedom of movement but are often seen as reminiscent of a ballet tutu. The bright colors, excess of material, and flourish of the scarves worn with such an outfit were seen as adding to the flair of dancing in such a ‘costume’. Saint Laurent loved to imagine the “exotic” in his collections of the 70s and 80s (as FIT in NYC discusses in this post), and this theme was crafted from an assemblage of French literary and artistic allusions. See my Saint Laurent Pinterest board for more examples of his “exotic” designs.
On the flip side, such flashy, loosely fitted ethnic clothing has also been stereotyped for centuries to the classical peasant look, often tied most closely to the traveling Romani people of the Eastern Bloc countries, France, Spain, and Portugal. For too long these peoples had been given the slang name “gypsies” and – whether fully authentic or not – some form of a Basque-waist dress with a loose blouse bodice, corset-like fitted midsection, and a full skirt became the clichéd look of “peasant” people of the above listed ancestries as portrayed in art, literature, and musical interpretations.
This idea was only perpetuated for the time of this post’s dress with the popularity of a year 1939 Hollywood interpretation of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. The French novel was turned into an American romantic drama film starring Charles Laughton and Maureen O’Hara, wherein she (as Esmeralda) was wearing a late 1930s interpretation of the stereotypical Romani Basque-inspired fashions for the film costumes, often brightly color blocked.
The children’s animated Disney version of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, released in 1996, continued this appearance for Esmeralda, whose look and color paneling is eerily similar to my own dress. This was probably a very subconscious color choice on my part, but too similar to dismiss as anything short of inspired by the Disney character that I adored as a teenager. Disney’s Esmeralda was very feisty, compassionate, and self-sufficient which totally impressed me, whether she was true to the original book or not. Even though my “Pandemic Princess” blog series is officially over, I am counting this post’s dress as an honorary member of the collection. I’ve always seen Esmeralda as a princess in my eyes, and this dress is hilariously similar to her drawn costume, whether intended or not.
With such flashy interpretations to be inspired by, I was tempted to add on trimming or embroidery or oversized accessories to my dress. Instead, I liked the versatility that keeping my dress simple left for me. I think the clean and basic colors make my dress classy and free of any cultural connotations. The funny thing is, even if I did channel such a cultural reference in my dress, I could authentically embrace it as part of my heritage as my maternal great-grandmother was an immigrant from Czechoslovakia. As I mentioned above when I brought up the designer Valentina of the 30s and 40s, her beautiful simplicity and clean lines is what I wanted to emulate. In a full circle moment, I’d like to point out that Valentina was Ukrainian, after all, and – going back to the famous “Russian Ballet” collection of 1976 – Saint Laurent originally pinned this Basque-waist look to the endemic cultural dress of old Soviet Union era.
For all my words over the rich heritage behind such a style of dressing, this ultimately is a really simple design and just as easy to make as it is to wear. I enjoy the fact that the practice of sewing not only enables me to discover such different styles, but also try them out for myself. Then, I get to enjoy and interpret in my own fashion. The entire 1940s has such a variety of styles that speak to all the different political and socioeconomic situations that people who lived through the era experienced. This dress of 1940 speaks to a wistful, ambitious, blissfully self-centered moment for the USA with its many yards of material and romantic style. Think of how the movies “The Wizard of Oz” and “Gone with the Wind” had just been released in 1939. With the major influence that Hollywood had on society at that time, you can translate the excess and flourish of its fashions into Americans reminiscing over their past with rose-colored glasses and dreaming about the future with a hopeful fear.
There is no dreamier time to wear such a lovely dress from such an especial turning point from the past than springtime, with the abundance of natural splendor that can be found at every corner tree and backyard garden. I hope your Easter was every bit as lovely as can be, and you found the beauty and blessings of season in the holiday!
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