Gumball Drop

     I have been waiting so long for this post to be made possible!  Finding an appealing sewing pattern from 1965 has proved a bit challenging for me and that year in my decade page has unfortunately remained empty.  I do have a hat pattern from that year and two rather basic dress designs, but no inspiration had come to me for sewing any of them in the last 11 years of blogging.  This predicament is amended through buying a vintage year 1965 Burda magazine, coming to me direct from Germany.  Now I have more enticing designs from that year of fashion than I can handle!  I started my first project (of hopefully more) from 1965 by choosing a simple style that is slimming and youthful but mimics the magazine styling in a fun and colorful way.  The resulting dress is reminiscent of a gumball machine (so mentioned by my husband) and evokes the crazy excitement I feel to finally wear something that harkens back to 1965.  Are you ready for a sweet treat?!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  the bodice is a polyester, lined in cotton, while the skirt portion is a cotton-poly blend broadcloth

PATTERN:  a vintage “Burda Moden” dress #3075 from an old original German July 1965 magazine

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, black grosgrain ribbon, and one vintage zipper for the side seam…all of which came from my existing stash on hand

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The pattern’s preparation took me over 4 hours before the 10 hours I spent to cut and construct the dress.  My garment was finished early June, 2023.

THE INSIDES:  The entire bodice is cleanly “bag” lined in cotton for no seams showing, yet the skirt’s raw inner edges are tightly zig-zag stitched over to imitate overlocking (I don’t have a serger yet).

TOTAL COST:  All the fabric I used was bought at a second-hand rummage sale where everything was $1 per pound.  This dress probably cost me $5 or less!

     This was a very satisfying complex project even though it was ridiculously easy dress design.  The pattern a complete change of pace to use and my brain was surprisingly ready for the challenge!  Burda patterns can be puzzling enough the way it is, especially when it comes to identifying the pattern lines on the magazine insert sheets or deciphering the construction summary.  Vintage patterns can also be a wild card in themselves between the possibility of having unknown sizing, design surprises, and challenging techniques.  Both of these individual difficulties were combined under the mystery of a language I don’t know. 

Here’s the cover of my July 1965 Burda magazine. Oh how I love the sundress design on the front!

     I relied on Google Translate to interpret the German words into English for me.  Even still, I hit roadblocks as many sewing terms were not being recognized by Google.  I really only translated about a dozen key words in bold that were on the instructional chart and on the pattern piece list then neglected the rest.  Looking at the pattern pieces explained enough of the construction that I needed to know, but I did need to figure out the layout of the old Burda magazine.  It was different enough to be new but similar enough to be recognizable to the way the modern company of today now sets up their pattern sheets and instruction page.  I found it so thrilling to have the opportunity to experience this!  The biggest drawback I found was how every design is one unique body measurement.  Not a single pattern shares a piece with one another pattern (as the modern Burda does).  The lack of any multi-size patterns means it will be necessary to grade up or down almost every time I pick a design from the magazine.  Oh well.  I just ordered a new roll of sheer medical paper, so I am all set to trace out as many patterns from this 1965 Burda edition as I desire.  I never knew the fashion of 1965 could be so likeable until I saw this magazine.  The variety of styles and interesting cuts offered in the old Burda magazines are not to be found elsewhere.

     I converted over the given metric numbers to the imperial system and did my “finished garment” measurements to the traced pieces only to find one more challenge – the dress’ pattern was short in petite or junior’s proportions!  I had to laugh…my first 1965 project seems to be making sure it’s memorable.  As I have done such an adaptation many times before (here, here, and here for starters), I knew how and where to adjust the pattern so as to bring the dress up to standard adult proportions.  Nevertheless, the findings were just a bit of a setback, adding one more of the already many steps I had to take in attempting to perfect the pattern for my measurements.  Apparently the fashion photo for this dress did a good enough job at being appealing to tempt me beyond my comfort zone to tackle such a project in the first place.  I did really want to have a 1965 project under my belt anyways but didn’t expect that to test my patterning capabilities the way it did.  Nevertheless, I really don’t mind a foreknown creative hardship, especially when there is such a clear goal in mind, because it feels that much more satisfying to succeed!

     Burda’s fashion photo for this dress is a highlight piece, since it was on the back cover for the magazine.  The more I looked at it, I knew I *had* to try it out, remembering the perfect fabric was on hand in my stash.  There was no commitment or stress about this project, which was important as it was a sudden impulse sew.  I had about 6 yards of each material, so fulfilling my idea did not mean I was completely using up these fabrics which I was hoping to use towards other future ideas.  Any mistake would have a buffer of extra fabric to recut from (thinking about a worst case scenario).  This easy approach added to the fun that the bright and bold colors already give.  The photo in the magazine shows a bright red skirt and a black and white polka dotted bodice.  My version is a like a carnival in a bold candy pink skirt with a bodice of polka dots that are jewel-toned bright colors.  I still kept the black ribbon band along the empire waistline, as the Burda image shows, because I liked the stark color contrast it gives.  However, I merely hand-tacked the ribbon down as the last finishing step so that it can be easily removable if I suddenly want to change up the dress’ appearance. 

     It was an unexpected surprise to see how the shoulder straps are so wide and slightly arch closer to my shoulders than my neckline.  I really do like this subtle detail.  I believe it helps to balance out the dress by visually widening the shoulders and opening up the neckline.  The skirt has a very moderate flair at the hem that keeps it no wider than the average 1960s A-line.  I did have to let out my 5/8” seam allowance to be a 3/8” allowance over my hips to give myself a little extra room.  Other than that, the dress came together without a hiccup and was easy compared to the pattern tracing and resizing.  

     I do find it odd that the size of my dress’ pattern is for teens or petite ladies while the actual fashion image shows it on an adult seeming to be of average height.  It is obvious paging through the rest of the magazine how segregated the designs are based on age.  Half are for younger and middle aged women (sized in the mid-30” bust range), a fourth are catered to the ‘mature’ women (based on the larger sizing and the grey haired models) and are conservative dresses and suits, while the rest of the designs are sun suits, separates, and sleeveless dresses in teen proportions and tiny sizing…such as was done for my dress’ pattern.  I do think – either way – that this is a youth-oriented design from the way it is fresh and fun, sleeveless and shorter, brighter in color and high-waisted.  Yet, it does so without making me look like I am dressing out of my age group.  After all, the empire waistline was having a revival in the 1960s due to the babydoll and childish looks that designers like the late Mary Quant and Cristobal Balenciaga.  I made my dress slightly longer than the average pop-culture 60’s youth-oriented dress, which (back in the 60s) would’ve been above the knee, and kept it in line with high-end babydoll fashion to end up with a grown-up, less daring look.  Besides, I was matching the length of the Burda picture where it touches just below the kneecap.  Every little detail tells a story and conveys a certain image.  I try to balance having my vintage wardrobe work for my needs of today as well as teach about the past.  We may no longer have fashion styles relegated so distinctly to certain age groups (unless you are taking note of passing TikTok fads).  It is nevertheless interesting to see how clothes used to be expected to so closely reflect your age.

     As I realized after making this 1940s dress (posted here), I do prefer a randomly placed polka dot pattern and not one that is overly angular or repeating.  Here, though, I can’t unsee the bold-colored, arbitrarily placed dots as reminding me of anything other than a jumble of gumballs in the globe top of a candy machine ever since my hubby mentioned it.  I played with the dotted print by wearing earrings from my paternal Grandmother which are white enamel ball drops.  My photo booth background is also candy themed to further take part in the gumball parody.  I never intended this idea at the get-go of this project, but I love how it came to us the very first time seeing the whole outfit on me.  It is sweet indeed to finally fill in the 1965 block with something so amazing.  This might be by favorite project made this summer, but the season is not yet over…so we will see.

     My ‘new’ 60s dress is so effortless to wear, such a light and comfy weight for summer, and rather timeless in its style.  I love that it doesn’t immediately strike me as coming from 1965 – what do you think though?  I think I found the perfect balance of an unassuming design that is interpreted into a garment which is anything but boring.  Not unlike the joy of old fashioned candy, sometimes it’s the simple things in life that are the best, I guess!

Queen Bee

This year will be the 6^th anniversary for celebrating World Bee Day, which comes yearly on May 20, the day Anton Janša, the pioneer of beekeeping, was born in 1734.  This commemoration is observed in order to have a worldwide celebration of bees as pollinators for the ecosystem and to appreciate the efforts of beekeepers. World Bee Day was first proposed by the country of Slovenia, and after 3 years of lobbying, was approved by United Nations members in 2017.  The Slovenian website for World Bee Day asks that “the world will begin to think more broadly about bees, in particular in the context of ensuring the conditions for their survival, and thus for the survival of the human race.”  That site says that studies have shown about every third spoonful of food depends on bee pollination, and this to me is the most striking (and scary) statistic.  That we owe so much of our daily bread to these little creatures who go about minding their own beeswax doing their humble work, rarely being valued for their benefits to society, is a daily wonder when I think about it.  Being that my father-in-law had long been a beekeeper and the honeybee is the unofficial family symbol, it was high time I took this holiday to heart and sewed myself an appropriate dress to pair with the day!  This gives me perfect excuse to indulge in my love for wearing yellow and orange, anyways!

     World Bee Day 2023 has the specific theme of “Bee engaged in pollinator-friendly agricultural production”.  This makes me think back to the origins of the organic earth stewardship movement where people began to make intentional efforts to reduce usage of pollinator harming chemicals and practices that deplete the environment.  What better year to channel that specific message than with a dress from 1962, the year that is considered the benchmark beginning for the organic movement. That year the famous book Silent Spring, which chronicles the effects of DDT and other common pesticides on the environment, was published by the prominent scientist and naturalist Rachael Carson.  Her book was a bestseller in the US and many other countries and has been called “an iconic piece of literature”.  The book is credited for launching a mass determined effort to act sustainably which led to the creation of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency as well as the eventual passing of the ban on DDT in 1972.  As it was, connecting oneself to nature and being a good steward of the earth was a popular social issue during the 1960s era, and the message of Silent Spring came at the right time.

Notice the honeycomb hexagon printed fabric at the top of the fabric pile in Mary Quant’s arms?

     On the topic of a message being in touch with things, I thought it would be the perfect time to use the designer Mary Quant’s 1962 “Georgie Dress” pattern as my basis for my honeybee inspired project.  The world just saw the loss of the designer Mary Quant on April 13 this year.  She was another catalyst type of person like Rachael Carson, only Quant was the main influencer behind the London-based Mod and youth fashion movements of the 1960s, popularizing miniskirts, ‘hot pants’, bold color combinations, and the gamine look.  The free “Georgie Dress” pattern (offered through the V & A Museum in London) had been on my mind before Quant’s passing, but her death suddenly reminded me that the “Georgie Dress” would work out perfectly for the pile of honeycomb print cotton scraps that I had to work with.  It was the year I was looking for, would be a great way to honor the people and topics I wanted to include, and would be a fun and unexpected way to use both my material and the pattern.  With my choice of fabric, I knew this dress was going to be a bit out-of-the box, so I might as well channel a designer that did the same thing with her designs.  Nevertheless, being from early in the decade, this particular design is more unadventurous and 50s inspired than her styles offered later in 60s.  Even, still it turned out a comfortable and cute garment that is simple enough to be perfect for customization…such as what I did! 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a Robert Kaufman brand 100% Kona cotton in two different color schemes of the “Spring Shimmer” print by Jennifer Sampou

PATTERN:  Mary Quant “Georgie Dress” dated to 1962

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, three buttons leftover from this past project (posted here), bias tape for finishing the edges, and a spool of glimmer tulle

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This project took me just under 20 hours to make, and was finished at the end of April 2023.

THE INSIDES:  cleanly finished with a mix of bias tape, using the selvedge edge, and zig-zag stitching

TOTAL COST:  This dress cost me next to nothing!  The fabric came from a rummage sale in which all you could stuff in a grocery bag was $2! The tulle was a clearance item from JoAnn Fabrics store and I used a coupon to have the spool come to 50 cents.  Everything else I needed was on hand.  This dress cost me no more than a few dollars.  What a deal, right?!

     I am the “Queen Bee” in my own close family circle, and so I am embracing that sort of role with my thoughts towards this dress and also the facts I am trying to learn about bees in general.  I didn’t want this dress to be a costume or have a cosplay type of feel, so I kept my honeybee influences subtle.  It is wonderful to see how people I interact with when I am wearing this dress only realize as they are talking to me that the print is honeycomb!  Far away distance viewing is for appreciation of the overall dress silhouette while admiration for the details is only possible when comin’ on up to me.  Don’t worry – I don’t sting!

     The print itself has no bees but only features the hexagonal comb inside the hive.  The hive is the colony’s home and life’s work as well as the only setting the queen ever sees (she doesn’t get away from her domestic duties).  A print that features the comb is more low-key to wear and also a better homage to bees, I figure.  The honey that bees make in the hive is the commonly associated and enjoyably palatable connection they have to humans, after all, and a small miracle in my opinion.  The bee brooches are vintage and meant to be like the drones (the only male bees) following the queen (the big pin closest to my neck).  The big bee and one of the small bees had been bought by me from a thrift sale back when I was a pre-teen.  The other two smaller bee pins were from my paternal grandmother, and it was amazing when I found they matched with my own!  The delicate sparling mesh along my neck reminds me of the dainty, beautiful wings of a honeybee, which are said to beat about 200 times per second.  Every little fact about bees is mind-blowing.

     I’m always a big fan of Robert Kaufman fabric, but it is a coincidence that this is the second time I have gravitated towards a Jennifer Sampou print.  I bought one of her gradient ombré “Sky” prints two years ago and have since turned that into its own fantastic project yet to be posted.  Here, though, I only found out that my honeycomb cotton was by her once I got home to layout my rummage sale findings.  The Sampou “Spring Shimmer” cotton was found as a pile of cut squares, only remnants and not a whole yardage.  As impossible as the task seemed, I still *had* to try to do something with them because I adored the print, the luxurious quality of the Kaufman cotton, and the golden colors.  Luckily the squares were bigger than a quilter’s fat quarter – about 21” by 22”.  I had 4 squares of each (thus 8 in total) of the two colors I used in my dress as well as two more colorways (a grey/red and a blue/white).  I used 3 out of the 4 squares of the two best complimenting colors, and will save the rest to sew a shirt for my husband in the future. 

     The Mary Quant pattern pieces were small enough in my size to just fit onto the odd shaped squares of fabric.  I was thrilled!  The fit chart was spot on and the instruction booklet was clear and easy to follow.  Many 1960s dresses and tops provide me with limited reach room because of my larger upper arms, but this design is easy for me to move in, with good reach room, and roomy in its proportions.  There is a lot to print out for this dress so it was unexpected to find that the PDF download only gives you 3 pattern pieces to tile together and use.  Besides the bodice and the sleeves, the rest of the pattern needs to be self-drafted.  This ‘forced’ me to be creative and customize the pleated trim and the skirt to my own imagination.  I did still use the fork pleating method that the pattern instructions provided for making the tulle trim along the neckline.  That was really fun and the easiest yet most consistently precise pleating I have done.  Otherwise, I made some changes to the dress in a way that does not at all affect the design lines.

      The “Georgie Dress” is supposed to be a mock wrap dress…well, I took it one step further and made this a real working wrap dress!  This way the style stays the same but the faux look (as well as a side zipper) was avoided.  The bodice is designed to fully wrap from side seam to side seam anyway, so the only thing I had to do was extend the skirt to further encompass the entirety of the waistline and – boom!  It is a real wrap dress.  It find this so much more satisfying and easy to get dressed in than having a mock-wrapped look and I had enough fabric to make this idea work.  I also left out the full bodice lining as the instructions direct.  Being a designer pattern, it makes sense to have a fully lined bodice for a higher-end finish, but this dress was not at that level and I wanted to keep the construction easy.  Besides, what is the use of having such a luxuriously soft and stable cotton is you don’t get to feel it directly on your skin, sans lining?!?  Part of the breezy and joyful energy to this dress is not just the print but the happiness I have from the way I simplified and streamlined this dress.

     I have said time and again how I love using the type of mathematics that sewing requires and pleating skirts is on my top 5 list.  I had a total of 4 fabric squares available for the skirt (two of each color since one panel of each color went towards the bodice and sleeves).  I figured the entire length of what I had for the skirt (20” multiplied by 4 equals about 2 ¼ yards), figured the length that the skirt would have to go (being a wrap this was trickier) and went from there.  The part of the skirt where the skirt is wrapped under is plain and not pleated to keep the skirt from being too poufy.  Then the center front has a smooth area over the tummy.  However, the rest of the skirt is knife pleated to radiate back to the box pleat I have at the center back.  The entire deal took me some 3 hours of doggedly doing the math, sewing the panels, making the measured markings, and folding and pinning the pleats to finally staystitch them down.  I am in a total zone when I do something like this and I love it!  The skirt is shorter than I originally wanted (and not what the pattern directs) but that is the 22” length of the squares and the best I could do.  I rather like the flirty and sporty little skirt after all, though now that it is finished.  I feel it is better suited to the cheerful and fun aura I wanted for the dress.  In sewing, setbacks are indeed design opportunities.

     Since I made this a working wrap, I’ll explain how I keep it closed to further help you to do same adaptation of the “Georgie Dress”.  The wrap ends of the bodice are squared off just enough to leave room for about three evenly spaced half inch buttons.  To support the outer closing, I traced out my own interfaced placket to go underneath the side that needed buttonholes and then sewed the corresponding buttons down through the side seam allowance.   Since I was not lining this dress the one layer of cotton would not have been enough to make the wrap closing work well otherwise.  In the inside closing, I sewed down two loops of ¼ inch wide elastic to comfortably catch two buttons which were (again) sewn to the side seam allowance on the opposite side.  Easy does it best!

     My background has the controversial “Honey Bears” by popular San Francisco street artist known as Fnnch.  This particular mural reminds of the Pop Art of the 1960s era, something akin to the Campbell’s Soup can art of Andy Warhol from 1962.  These bears nod to the handful of musical venues nearby, the World’s Fair of 1904, the Arts and Education Council, and the local hockey team “the Blues” (as this post here fully explains).  As I am in the Midwest, we have only one piece of his so I feel a bit alienated from the debate and dislike the rest of Fnnch’s plethora of art has garnered in the Golden Gate city.  I just seen these bears as quirky and cheerful…as long as this is all we have.  With my dress’s fabric print being a honey comb and since the body of his art work is so very similar to Warhol’s 1962 art, I am thrilled to have the best reason ever to include this special corner from our city’s downtown Art District. 

     After a post like this, is there any little step that you can make to help our little pollinators and honey producers “bee” healthier and happier in the future?  Even if it is just planting some extra flowers, buying honey from your local beekeeper, or choosing organic produce, every little action can make a difference if we all join in.  Then every day can be a time for appreciating the bees!

Chanel on a Budget

     The title may be a bit confusing at first pass – no, I am not promoting buying counterfeit items or telling you how to find a deal.  This post is proudly about me making my own high-quality Chanel inspired suit jacket set…on the cheap!  I chose a pattern in my stash that was the closest to the ‘real deal’ French jacket set through a vintage 1960s designer Vogue.  I’ll admit, the envelope does not clearly say Chanel, but I doubt the mystery ‘designer’ which inspired the pattern is anything otherwise.  Every detail screams “French-style” jacket…and absolutely I love it!  However, for as much weight in the world of fashion that using the Chanel name may carry, my version is exclusively sewn using one yard or less scraps of silk, brocade, and more from on hand in my stash already.  Almost everything was acquired second-hand or as repurposed material, which makes this fantastically sustainable and affordable – yet no less fashionable – way to sew my own designer fashion.  I love a good statement piece, but the ‘making of’ story behind this handmade set makes this one a doozy! 

     For as much as I am thrilled with and proud of my own spin on a Chanel suit set, she is nevertheless my least favorite designer.  This is mostly because of her association with Nazi-Germans and collaborations with the Vichy puppet regime of WWII in order to boost her professional career.  I also detest the way she rode off of other people’s successes and feels she receives undue credit for the “little black dress”.  Ultimately, however, I just never really found her styles directly appealing to me…other than her classic “French Jacket” suit styles of the mid-century!  Gabrielle Chanel designed the “French Jacket” after returning to France in 1954 from exile in Switzerland in order to bring back her fashion house.  I like her revamped image and appreciate it as small sign of her “turning over a new leaf”.  She may have changed up what she offered but she found more popularity than ever with her classy suits and jackets.

Our son even wore his vintage 1960s suit to match with me!

     In the mood to get a head start on my “Easter best” outfit, I serendipitously picked up one of my long awaited projects – this Chanel-influenced suit – at the beginning of this year…way before the 2023 theme for the upcoming MET gala was announced!  The theme happens to be “Karl Lagerfeld: A Line of Beauty” and I happily find myself on point.  After Chanel’s passing in 1971, Karl Lagerfeld becoming Chief Designer helped the Chanel brand begin a new page in its history with his impressive prêt-à-porter and haute couture collections.  I know my suit’s design is from 1964 and thus not from Lagerfeld’s time as Director for Chanel, but this “French Jacket” style has become timeless and always chic no matter the time or place!  It is a luxury brand after all, but no less popular and sought after for all the imitations, knock-offs, or ‘inspired by’ pieces…such as my own!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  Skirt exterior is a ¾ yard remnant of an upholstery fabric “Angelic Meadow, Hydrangea color” that is 45% rayon, 31% polyester, 24% cotton in content. That fabric remnant came with a receipt dated to 2015 from “The Robert Allen Group” of South Carolina.  The skirt lining is a beige toned polyester microfiber bed sheet (previously used to line this dress, posted here). 

My jacket is primarily made with pre-quilted cotton leftover from lining this coat project (posted here).  The pure silk satin used on the collar lapels and pocket flaps is in a sandy beige color.  It is something I acquired when visiting the fabric district in Los Angeles, California. The jacket lining is a 1980s polyester jacquard.

PATTERN: Vogue Special Design #6131 from February/March 1964, vintage original pattern from my personal stash

NOTIONS NEEDED:  I used lots of thread, one skirt zipper and a hook and eye. The braided jacket trimming is cotton in content and was from my local JoAnn Fabrics store, bought about 5 years ago.  The button set is vintage, on hand from my husband’s Grandmother’s notions stash.  The vintage skirt chain is the only recent purchase and comes from this Etsy shop.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  Both pieces together took me at least 40 hours to complete in January 2023

THE INSIDES:  fully finished and completely lined

TOTAL COST:  The skirt chain was my only current cost – $4! The other notions were already on hand.  The beige silk was a remnant bought for $5 at a shop in the garment District of Los Angeles, California. The rest of the fabrics were either remnants from my other projects or picked up at some local rummage sales for pittance.  My whole suit cost me under $20.

     For as complex as making a designer suit set sounds, this one was relatively easy.  It called for techniques that were not out of the ordinary, and as I was using bulky, thick fabrics for both the skirt and jacket, I needed no added interfacing!  Nevertheless, true Chanel suit coats have more inventive seaming and more specific details than my version, which has minimal design lines, a two-piece sleeve (common for suiting), and a 60s era boxy cut.  It lacks the famous Chanel “three-panel sleeve” with sleeve cuff vent and princess seaming in the body.  What was supposed to be the classic Chanel ¾ sleeves fell at full length on me and I left them that way in order to compliment my smaller proportions better.  There still is a proper placement for the unmistakable quadruple pockets!  The skirt was only two pattern pieces plus a waistband, and I further simplified that by getting rid of the back kick pleat, making it look trimmer than most Chanel skirts and further slimming the boxy suit for my 5’2” frame.  I love the resulting look!  It has been 8 years now since I have made a 1960s suit (see my last one, a 1967 reversible set, posted here)!

     However, I want to point out that this set is lacking in a true Chanel attribution, being only a “Special Design” (i.e designer inspired).  With this perspective, expecting it to be on par with a modern standard is silly, and – after all – the ultimate decision was up to me, as I am my own designer.  I was not looking for a high end or overly taxing project here, but merely set out to use what I had on hand to craft two well-made pieces with enough of a Chanel reference to make me happy.  

I have done a thorough search for a verified Chanel suit pattern and cannot find a single one, so an “inspired” version is the only option for a home seamstress, outside of drafting from off of an extant original.  If you do have a true Chanel designer item, then you probably wouldn’t bother to make your own…unless you are Susan Khalje, a distinguished educator and practitioner of couture sewing methods.  Working with Julien Cristofoli (a Paris-based draper and couture pattern maker) to create a pattern direct from “authentic sources”, she offers a pattern and accompanying workshop which together teach all the glorious details behind reproducing a true “French Jacket”!  Khalje’s “Straight Skirt” pattern is similar to my own skirt in design lines and would be a great couture upgrade option.  There are many Chanel inspired pattern options out there to choose from, though!  See this post at “Sewing Chanel Style” for the top 10 look-alike patterns!

     As 1990s Chanel was trending again in 2022, I originally considered going for a Karl Lagerfeld era “French Jacket”, which I love the look of but don’t (yet) believe I have the legs to pull it off a cropped jacket, bare midriff, and mini skirt.  If not that interpretation, then I knew I wanted to channel Chanel through the lens of the 1960s.  I associate this decade as being part of the classic era for women’s suits because of Jackie Kennedy’s style, the popularity of fashion photography, and the great couture houses which began in the 1950s and continued offering finely tailored clothing in contrary to the youth movement.  The suit was back in full force in the 1960s as about 40% of women between 16 and 64 joined the workforce with the passing of many watershed moments in equality such as the Equal Pay Act of 1963, the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and the Presidential act banning discrimination based on gender in 1967.  In 2021, I happened to pick up a vintage original 1960s suit in perfect condition for only $20 (see me wearing it here) and found that I loved the boxy shape, cropped length, and skinny skirt.  It was surprisingly fun and something I found appealing…and just like that I had a new vintage obsession.  A 1960s Chanel inspiration was the best and most deluxe version I could think of for reproducing this suit style for myself. 

     The sizing on this pattern was rather odd and deserves a mention.  As I said in the paragraph below “The Facts”, the sleeves were supposed to be “short bracelet length” but turned out long in length.  Well, the entire jacket ran extraordinarily long on me.  I had to raise everything up by almost two whole inches (except the sleeves, which I left at wrist level).  I extended the bust darts to come higher, made a deeper hem, and raised up the placement level of the pockets and button closure.  The width and armscye depth was fine on me as-is, with no added adjustments otherwise.  At right you can see the first shell of my jacket – no lining, pockets, facing, or anything – and I had to re-measure and re-mark all the blueing after this picture.

Then, the skirt ran very small and very short.  Luckily, I measured out the finished sizing at the pattern stage so I graded the pattern up to more than what the numbers said I needed.  Thank goodness I had that foresight because this skirt would have been unwearable otherwise.  The waistband is snug on me – but just fits!  The hem is a simple turn under where the pattern called for it to be 2 ½ inch deep, but that would have made it too short on me to match with the jacket.  I have not yet come across another vintage pattern with such weird proportions where two garments coming from the same pattern envelope have different fitting quirks quite opposite one another.  There is no telling how the blouse included in the pattern would have turned out at this rate (and I’m glad I didn’t decide to make it)!  Vintage Vogue patterns are usually so impressively well designed in my experience.  Perhaps this one is off due to Vogue trying too diligently following the designer’s lead.  My guess is that either the pattern’s inspiration was perhaps overbearing their normal design process or this is just a fluke release.  It’s a good thing I was able to have everything turn out okay.

     I was doubting myself of my adventurous choice to use the quilted cotton material for a Chanel suit when such a thing is normally made with a tweed or traditional suiting material.  On its own, nevertheless, this cotton batting has a soft but stable structure similar to suiting and I thought it match with the quilted, textured, plush qualities of the skirt’s tapestry fabric.  The look of quilting is not entirely foreign to the history of Chanel, though.  Back in 1929, Chanel designed a handbag that had a double chain strap which could be worn over the shoulder and not just hand held.  Then in February 1955, after she began redesigning the rest of her brand, a quilted diamond or herringbone pattern was additionally stitched on the exterior of her leather chain strap handbags and “The Chanel 2.55” accessory was born.  My beige quilted cotton, used on the main body of my jacket, merely mimics a Chanel purse!  Additionally, though, the main difference (from what I read from this source) between a couture Chanel jacket and an off-the-rack (prêt-à-porter, which came after 1978) is the way that made-to-measure items have their silk lining quilted directly to the exterior tweed fashion fabric.  Apparently I was just finding an easy way to a mock couture touch by buying pre-quilted fabric instead of quilting the lining to the suit body!  My jacket may be an unusual interpretation of Chanel but it is still very much on brand.

     To counter the quilted cotton material, I did dive into my good supplies for other parts of my jacket, especially when it came to the contrast portions (collar lapel and folded-back flap top pockets).  The silk satin was like fine butter to work with and really elevates the appearance of my jacket.  It was slightly a pain to use here because it was such a complete opposite in weight and texture from the quilted cotton.  However, I didn’t bother to hand stitch through the silk as I normally would but used my machine for practically everything but tacking in the lining and the label.  (Can I briefly freak out over how the envelope had a rare “Vogue Special Design” label hiding in between the pattern tissue!?!) 

     The braided trim went over the top of all my machine stitching and made everything look so clean and refined…it was such a ridiculously easy way to finish this simple suit it felt like cheating.  The trim was so perfectly meant for this project by the way I was literally left with only 2 inches to spare out of the 3 yard length I had on hand.  It is so Chanel inspired to have the trim looking like tiny braiding, but ultimately I was just happy it matched the beige tones of both my cotton and silk material.  Additionally, a set of buttons from the familial inherited stash of notions had four in one size and then also the next size up and so seemed further meant to be part of my project.  They are substantial buttons that add a touch of golden bling which is synonymous with Chanel, second only to an overload of pearls.   

     I suppose the most Chanel part of my skirt is the button-on skirt chain that I added to the waistband.  However, the tapestry material that I chose deserves its own spotlight – it is so fantastic.  This was a remnant I picked up from a furniture warehousing company that moved literally one block up from where I live, so I love the fact I didn’t even have to leave my neighborhood or drive anywhere to find some cool fabric.  There is such a complexity of color and detail in the weave that immediately gets lost at a normal distance away from me (i.e. outside of my personal bubble space).  I really went over the top thinking about the pattern layout for this simple skirt just so I could make sure all the seams lined up beautifully at every seam.  The oversized brocade needed to be aligned well and the lovely material deserved it.  After heaping such praise and time on skirt’s exterior, I do feel guilty that I used something as common as a microfiber bedsheet (leftover from this project) to line the skirt interior – but fabric is fabric and sometimes what is on hand is better to me than buying new.  I used the good vintage rayon hem binding at least! 

     Most Chanel suits do not have the juxtaposition of a printed skirt with a solid jacket.  However, I felt the blue tapestry material was refined, deluxe, intricately woven, and – most importantly for me – very wearable outside of pairing it with the set.  I know Chanel is known for using pink, but a soft blue has always been my favorite over pink.  As I am the one sewing these pieces, this is my personal interpretation of a Chanel suit after all!  I’ll always attest that home seamstress are designers just the same as any big shot…sewist ‘small fry’ like me may not have the press or clout, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do just as well for ourselves with what we sew together! 

     I loved wearing my Chanel inspired set for Easter…it feels so good to get back into my tradition of making suits for this holiday.  I kind of fell off from keeping this tradition over the last couple years.  My last Easter suit was sewn using a designer 1996 pattern (posted here) in 2020.  I hope to pick up where I left off with my “progressively advancing up through decades” Easter sewing by making a 2000 era suit for 2024!  Keep your eyes peeled to see if I can’t wait and end up sewing it this year.

I’m wearing my paternal Grandmother’s vintage jewelry here, and my favorite piece is the 1960s watch necklace. The pearl gold bead necklace is something I made myself as a teenager!

Chintz and an Indian Print Shirt

I wore my Punjabi Kurta tunic that I made from a vintage sari – posted here!

     One of the highlights of 2022 for me was having my town’s Art Museum hosting the acclaimed exhibition Global Threads: The Art and Fashion of Indian Chintz, which is produced and circulated by the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM).  I considered visiting Canada just for this exhibit when it opened in Ontario in September of 2020…unbelievably, however, it subsequently came to me!  We attended all the presentations, curator talks, and related events, as well as even joining our Art Museum as a member just to have unlimited free access to the Chintz exhibit.  Nevertheless, it had a shortened opening time, and is now closed for visiting by the time I am getting around to posting about the exhibit – sorry!  As I have said before, I am still catching up on so many things from last year!  Nevertheless, as a replacement, I highly recommend purchasing the ROM’s exhibit book as well as following my posts about the outfits I made for the event’s occasions!  I say “outfits” in plural because I sewed something related and appropriate for our exhibit visits not just for me (to be shared in a follow up post) but for my man! 

Kalam bamboo pens as shown in my picture from the Chintz exhibit.

     A rich red is for auspicious and joyful festivities, so I thought the opening day for the Chintz exhibit was celebratory enough to merit hubby wearing the vibrant color.  Often, gold (in the form of embroidery or jewelry) is paired with the color red, but that is when the fabric worn is silk, such as for weddings and festivities.  Since this is an everyday cotton blend fabric, the beige and tan tones stamped into the blank spaces left from the resist mordant calms the red down and keeps this shirt more casual.  I realized that the exhibit featured chintz prints and my hubby’s shirt fabric vaguely fit into the exhibit’s definition of chintz, but that is a blurry, controversial topic.  The exhibit presented the distinction between the two (at the manufacturing level) as being that chintz has its prints individually hand drawn with a kalam bamboo pen, not just primarily stamped or resist dyed as is done to a block print.  However, many chintz prints utilize blocks or resist mordant to supplement (in some degree) the kalamkari handiwork.  Both prints often use the same dyes, oxides, or inks.  Thus, I figure my husband is dressed in a fabric that is a simpler “close relative” of the chintz we saw in the exhibit! 

     There are more differences between chintz and block prints yet to be mentioned, but I will not dive into the weeds here.  I just want to focus on how we were trying to honor India’s fiber arts heritage along with the exhibit by having this shirt for the occasion.  Most importantly, my hubby really seems to like his first taste of just how wonderfully soft and uniquely stylish an Indian block printed cotton can be to wear.  I hope you look into the beauty behind the history of Chintz and consider finding an Indian cotton print to work with for your own projects – whether they are for others or not.  You will not be disappointed!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a soft cotton and flax blend Indian block print for the main shirt body with a solid red cotton broadcloth as the inner shoulder lining as well as the under collar contrast

PATTERN:  ”1950’s Men’s Sport Shirt with Front Detailing” vintage pattern reprint (listing here) from the “Vintage Sewing Pattern Company” on Etsy. 

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, interfacing, and two natural coconut buttons

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The pattern itself took several hours to assemble, trace and resize down, but the actual sewing was a total of 12 hours and finished in September 2022

THE INSIDES:  I tightly zig-zag stitched over all the raw edges to imitate serging (overlocking)

TOTAL COST:  The fabric was an end-of-the-bolt remnant on sale at $15 for 1 3/8 yards, and everything else cost pittance as it was all leftovers from other projects, already on hand.

     The overall fit of this design is relaxed, boxy, and meant to be a closure-free pop-over-the-head shirt.  However, pullover or not, it is classic for menswear of the 1950’s decade with its dropped shoulder line, obnoxiously wide collar, and generous sizing.  The interesting chest paneling that incorporates working pockets carries the heart of the design.  It was so fun to sew, see how it turned out, and subsequently have my husband enjoy it.  I love a good design anyway, but especially one that leaves open the perfect opportunity for having fun with a directional fabric print as this one does. 

     I contacted the seller that reprinted the pattern to hopefully find out more information so I could more precisely date this design.  They kindly let me know it originally came from Woman’s Own, a British lifestyle magazine first published in 1932 and continuing to this day (albeit with more celebrity gossip and no patterns).  A man’s shirt pattern coming from a line so specific in name to women is rather humorous in its irony.  Nevertheless, by knowing the pattern number and then finding a few other Woman’s Own patterns which were dated with a nearby number, I was able to place my hubby’s shirt between 1958 and 1960.   It wasn’t until after circa 1963 that menswear styles started slimming down with smaller collars.  Menswear changes very slowly and clues to dating vintage styles for guys lies in the subtle details.

     This post’s project pattern reminds me of a previous 1950s pullover shirt that I made for my husband (posted here), which was also in an Indian cotton.  However, this design has the decorative panel coming across the chest and a full convertible collar.  The instructions were clear and well laid out, being a newly digitized reprint, while the pieces matched up perfectly.  The design is so economical, too – the numerous pieces make it fit on a smaller cut than it would otherwise.  If you didn’t notice my point in the “The Facts” above, I did make this out of just over a yard…but then again I am a pro at eking out efficient pattern layouts!  My biggest challenge was restricting my layout availability for the pattern pieces by having the stripes change direction from vertical through the body to horizontal across the upper panels. 

     Dramatic work was needed on the pattern at the paper stage before any cutting.  I did a pattern fitting on him because a pullover shirt in a woven (with no stretch) needs to be a tricky balance of a loose fit that does not drown the wearer.  It needed to be sized down to a whole size smaller than what the pattern’s size chart showed that my husband needed.  Evenly, in small, spread-out increments, I pinched out about 4 ½ inches across the width of the chest (which was tricky to do with the geometric paneling), with 2 of those inches solely out of the collar.  This was supposed to get the shirt down to a 38” chest, 14” collar according to the pattern’s size chart, yet the finished garment fits like a 40” chest, 15” collar.  I also found that the pattern had the chest panel running too low.  Looking at the pattern, the pocketed chest panel needs to run across from arm to arm.  If I hadn’t folded up the pattern piece by a couple of inches, the chest panel seam would have dropped below his arms to run across his upper torso.  I was looking out for him ahead of time, though, and eventually nailed down the fit, but as long as my man likes what I made for him, that is all that matters.

     It was crazy how I needed to cobble together the one piece that didn’t fit in the pattern piece layout – the shoulder panel.  Being one of the smaller pieces, the shoulder panel was sacrificed to be assembled from the leftover cuttings since I wanted the stripes to run horizontally.  I somehow organized 7 individual scrap pieces in a way that remotely matched enough to make the seams indistinguishable (see picture above at far left).  I ironed the entire panel so all the pieced seams would lay flat (see middle picture above). Nevertheless, it is the interior lining panel, being cut – as it should – in one solid piece, which helps support that section and keep it in the correct shape (see far right picture above).  I love lining the shoulder panel of shirts – it creates such a clean interior and gives a professional finish in one easy step!  Plus, lining panels are a perfect way to use smaller scraps of fabric, especially when it adds a fun little contrast of color. 

     The coconut buttons on this shirt are a special touch that makes me smile.  Natural wood buttons are frequently used in India’s fashions, but nevertheless I wanted to keep everything about this shirt as natural as possible.  No polyester is to be found here except for a small amount blended in the thread!  Coconut buttons, however, seem to absorb water easily and so cannot take a soaking at all.  I might want to just do a quick hand wash to clean it.  If coconut buttons get too wet, in my experience, they separate or just plain start to fall apart!  These have some sort of glazing on the front so maybe they will be sturdy for a while…we will see.  For now, they tame down the rich red tone and are the perfect mix of being a ‘nicer-than-normal’ shirt button but subtle enough to not be too noticeable.  After all, pockets always seem more fun than they already are when there is a neat button to close them!

Another amazing picture we took from the Chintz exhibit!

     I know I have made plenty of Indian inspired garments for myself, so I hope you enjoyed this different approach to sewing something using that county’s great fabric offerings.  Even though this shirt is not glaringly different, I suppose it’s still quite a unique thing to make for my man – definitely something one would not find anywhere else!  Yet, that is one of the main reasons for home sewing, right?  To fuel that creative drive for fulfilling a personal vision as well as to have unique well-fitted garments for me and others to wear are some of the things I enjoy about sewing…how about you?  Let’s all be happy he accommodated me enough to model his shirt and work through his unwillingness to be on the other side of the camera!