Antique Crochet Yoke Camisole

     It has been awhile since I posted something historical, and I’m remedying that situation right now with a sweet little camisole in the fashion of about 100 years ago.  This actually happens to be my most recently finished sewing project, so you are getting the freshest blog post material possible!   

     With this piece, I’d like so brag that I now have my first completely hand-sewn item.  After all these years sewing, this is so exciting for me!!  You see, last week’s “Spring Break” time off of school for our son meant we took a week long car trip across the country to explore the beautiful, grand state of Colorado.  This entailed many hours in the seat of the car, and I brought this historical project to keep me occupied with something worthwhile during the drive.

I did put down my sewing to soak in all the amazing sights, such as when we were entering the Eisenhower Memorial tunnel. Did you know it is one of the highest vehicular tunnels in the world at 11,158 ft. in elevation – besides being the highest point in the American Interstate Highway System?

  Finishing up this antique camisole has been something which I have wanted to do for the past 5 years, anyway, ever since I had found the original yoke piece at a local antique store.  I always knew it was too delicate of a project to be done on a machine, and therefore the long drive for our vacation – away from my sewing room – gave me the perfect excuse to bring such an ambitious endeavor along.  I couldn’t be more proud over both the care and quality I put into my work here, but also the fact that I have a really cool memento of the spare time from our trip!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  half of a yard of a matte finish 100% silk chiffon in a “sage green” color

PATTERN:  none needed

NOTIONS:  lots of thread and some antique lace to match

TIME TO COMPLETE:  about 16 hours of hand stitching, maybe up to 18 hours; I just finished this (in March 2023)

THE INSIDES:  So fine!  Not a raw edge to be seen!

TOTAL COST:  The antique crocheted yoke part was bought for only $5 years ago.  The silk chiffon was a half yard cut that I bought several years back; it cost me $12 from “The Tin Thimble” shop on Etsy.  (I will link to the plain white option of this same fabric from their shop here.)  The additional lace was partly from my paternal Grandmother’s stash of notions and also partly a purchase ($8) from an antique mall we stopped at along the way to Colorado…yes, even the lace was yet another souvenir of the trip!  Altogether, this cost me only $25

     My very first step was to give the yoke some good TLC!  Not that it exactly needed some attention.  It’s still wonderfully sturdy and in pristine, undamaged condition but could be whiter and smell less musty.  I soaked the lace for 24 hours in the remarkable Retro Clean whitening solution…and the dingy, grey-ish overtone was gone!  Then I did a hand washing in Woolite detergent for silk and delicate material.  The yoke was so much whiter to the point it was now a faint ivory.  After a steaming from iron to reshape and further freshen the yoke, it was good to go. 

     Pinning this style of crochet yoke down to a general early 20th century time frame is the most approximate dating I feel comfortable being certain upon.  The early 20th century spans the Edwardian era to the end of WWI (circa 1901 to 1918).  Even though I have found my yoke probably dates to the tail end of this time span (as I discuss in depth in the next paragraph), such crocheted lace upper bodice pieces were used in a similar form or fashion by women for the whole early 20th century.  I could endlessly continue to do intermittent research and explore, hoping to uncover even more facts to share about these amazing little handmade pieces of beauty from the past.  However, my finished garment is too cute and much too special to withhold from my blog until all the evidence I pursue comes my way.  It’s fun to have a fresh blog post now and then. 

     From what I found out so far, it seems as if these type of camisoles are tied up with the last era for the wearing of corsets, as these were often worn as a corset cover (which is the way I have it on for this post’s pictures).  Major societal shifts for women and drastic changes in fashion styling spelled the end for such undergarments as this yoke camisole.  Ladies no longer wore full body corsets into the 1920s and yoke pieces began to instead be added to nightgowns, slips, aprons, or garden party dresses as the next decade rolled along. This picture heavy post (here) from the great “Witness2Fashion” blog shows how these pieces were alternatively called “filet lace” yokes and their geometric blocking and ornate designs date them to the First World War era.  

I have noticed that the crochet yokes which are dated to late or post WWI era specifically often have small sleeves that encompass the upper arm, as my piece does.  There is an instructional pattern from 1916 for a crocheted yoke (see it here from “Sew Historically”) as well as several tutorial books circa 1917 sold via Etsy which show similar pieces with full arm sleeves.  Attempting to date the lace alone, apart from the yoke styling, justifies my assumed provenance to the late 1910s.  For one example, a video (posted here on Instagram) of a French crocheted lace sampler book from circa 1920 shows many patterns similar in layout and design to what is on my own yoke.  It’s funny how a lot of fashion research just ends up being a combo of reasonable deduction and serendipitous discoveries!  

     With this much figured out, however, I then was faced with the tough but enjoyable decision of how exactly to bring this antique yoke to its full potential.  I wanted to be authentic yet also have my own ideas, which can be a delicate balance.  I only needed a fabric cut no bigger than a remnant for the body and I picked from my silk stash.  Silk was my ideal for this camisole to be a comfortable base layer.  Most silks also drape well, are a high quality material, and properly historical (as it was a fabric women wore on an everyday basis in the 1910s).  I gravitated towards this earthy sage green sheer chiffon that was beautiful, luxurious, and not currently marked for any other future project.  The green complimented the ivory tone in a way that wasn’t bold yet not plain.  At half a yard by 45” width, it was the perfect dimensions to fit onto the bottom of my crochet yoke and also come down to my hips!  I doubled the fabric up with the fold as the ‘hem’ for a clean finish and to create more opacity.

     I knew ribbons were essential to the neckline and waistline, so – in lieu of fine vintage silk ribbon – I used what was old, but also on hand – my circa 1920s or 1930s “Hug Snug” rayon seam binding tape.  Several years ago, I happened to purchase a box’s worth of many rolls of this stuff for a few dollars, and so I felt comfortable enough to use a few yards of this remarkable ‘no-longer-made’ item from the past.  Spun rayon seam tape is sheer but whisper soft, in lovely satin finish.  It is a high quality notion that used to finish hems or interior straight edges when sewing and can be found on many vintage garments that came ready-to-wear from stores.  Here, rayon tape worked just as well as any ribbon with its saturated color and beautiful rarity to help my work be just as special as the yoke I was using!  I went for a contrast in a burgundy color to bring out the muted green and brighten the ivory. 

     I packed up my sewing kit, my yoke and fabric, matching thread, and the roll of rayon tape in a zip-top bag for the car ride, yet I knew it was not everything.  I did rummage through my Grandmother’s lace box before we left the house and there was only a small cut of thin crocheted lace which was a match.  This lace ended up being added in two vertical rows down the front.  I was very specific about needing a lace that was cotton, crocheted, and a “dirty white”.  I really wanted to only add lace that seemed to be just as old as my yoke.  I was counting on finding the rest of what I needed to in some antique or thrift shops along our way.  This was a decision that made me a little wary as to whether or not this project would happen, yet I love to leave a room for fun surprises and the thrill of the hunt in every vacation.  This need certainly gave us a goal! 

     I will unashamedly brag that my husband has a good eye in antique malls or rummage sales for finding sewing-related things I am on the lookout to acquire.  This time, he outdid himself.  We stopped at an antique mall in a small town off the highway in Kansas and had very little free time to peruse such a large establishment. Somehow he quickly found a bag of 100 year old handmade lace, for only $8, in a basket on a shelf in the back corner of the warehouse.  This lace had been leftover edging from a tablecloth (as the label stated) and was blocked out into a one yard square.  I could tell by the overall geometric designs and fine work that this lace was indeed in the same style, of the same era as my antique yoke!  Hubby is the greatest enabler for my creative projects.  

     On the evening of crossing Kansas towards Colorado, I worked on snipping the larger decorative lace apart (to be used in a future project – don’t worry, I didn’t trash it).  Only the smaller, minimally ornamental portion which had been directly next to the now-gone tablecloth was what I immediately needed.  This portion had channeled openings like the rungs of a ladder which were perfect for passing a ribbon through.  This kind of lace was exactly what I was hoping in my wildest dreams to find for my antique camisole project.  It was the perfect solution to add horizontally along the waistline.  Now I can bring in the waistline as needed but still let it out to get the camisole on or off in way that matches to yoke so precisely.  I am still so thrilled.

     My hand stitching skills really amped up a notch in the car.  Even my husband happened to notice how clean and tiny my threads were from the wrong side!  I really don’t know what got into me.  I think the fact that I had nowhere to go for hours with no distractions or the need to multitask (as is often the case at home) left me to focus on a calm, non-rushed form of precise hand stitching that I found myself really enjoying.  I consider hand stitching slow, exacting work but find it necessary on many of my projects to achieve the proper finish and appearance I feel each item needs.  Yet, here my car-time stitching was more than what it ever was at home – it was intentional, fulfilling, focused, and quality done by choice.  I definitely recommend trying out sewing during travel.  Some people on social media have shown themselves hand sewing on a plane or train, too!  I usually spend my time as a passenger in the car either sleeping, reading or typing on a laptop, but the last two activities made me dizzy and discombobulated this time.  Sewing actually seemed very natural and more than suitable.

     I love how my mix of aesthetic, personal, and historical choices turned out altogether so much better than I had hoped!!  To think I now have the chance to enjoy the yoke, the lace, the fashion that is at least 105 years old – which took hours on end to make by hand in the first place – is both humbling yet thrilling.  Combined with the way this camisole is a souvenir of our trip, I can’t wait to wear this little antiquated underwear item under anything and everything…maybe even as a little summer top by itself with a long, full denim skirt.  Completing this old crocheted yoke was a fun way to try out something new…while I was traveling about making new memories and experiences!

Here’s another of my dashboard passenger pictures – what breathtaking mountain views!

Time for Dinner Dress

     As it is March and St. Patrick ’s Day is coming upon us, my strong Irish heritage compels me to post the habitual green-themed project on my blog, as I do annually.  I have quite the unique piece to share this year – an oddity called the “dinner dress”.  This very sophisticated design with an unusual intent is a great way to further comprehend the amazing variety of options that vintage fashion can provide.  My feminine yet flashy dinner dress has the best of the classic features for 1939 and completely justifies why that year is practically my favorite particular year for elegant, interesting fashion.  Enjoy this dive into the extravagance of the late 1930s with my fabric-hogging, twirl-worthy dinner dress project! 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  JoAnn Fabrics “Holidaze” line of material – a green striped semi-sheer black organza from the Christmas 2021 collection

PATTERN:  McCall 3169, a year 1939 original from my stash

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread and one zipper

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This dress took me over 20 hours to make and was finished in March 2022.

THE INSIDES:  I cleaned up and controlled the fraying of the fabric by doing several runs of tight zig-zag stitching along the raw edges to imitate serging (overlocking) with my old machine.

TOTAL COST:  5 yards of this fabric (on discount) cost me about $56

     First off, let’s dive into a little terminology to clear up any confusion.  With a forgotten and outmoded name as “dinner dress” given to this amazing design, finding a description for what makes a dinner dress was important to understanding my sewing project from a historical standpoint.  A basic search led me to Dictionary.com which defines it as “a dress, often long and having sleeves (or a jacket), which is more elaborate than one for daytime wear but less formal than an evening gown.”  This tells me that the fabric and the styling, as well as time period, is all important to making a dinner dress what it is.  Otherwise, there is a very fine line that a dinner dress rides before it becomes an evening gown, which morphing seemed to happen at some point between the 1940s and 50’s.  For social occasions such as dining, I suppose the casual clothes you wore in daytime were probably considered both out-of-place and discourteous to your guests, but a formal gown was over-the-top, as well.  This post’s pre-WWII dinner dress is a vision of the last vestiges of the opulent elegance of the American Depression in which the “modern woman” could display her social aptitude and societal visibility in a variety of public spaces.  A woman’s wardrobe was expected to be up to the task and present a grand visual display of what role she had in society!    

     The same Dictionary.com site mentioned above has a small blurb which notes that the first recorded origin of the dinner dress goes back to circa 1810 (the Regency era).  There is no clear primary source reference I have yet found for this information besides seeing an 1824 “dinner dress” from The MET museum online archives (as seen here).  This timing makes total sense, though, since museum archives as well as original fashion plates show just how popular dinner dresses were by the Victorian times (the time period following the Regency era).  See this National Gallery of Art article on “Dressing for Dinner in the Gilded Age” for more amazing info.  For the Regency era, clothing became more abundant (especially for the wealthy) as well as more functional than ever.  Women were also more independent and active than the previous 1700s.  Many changes of clothing were required for ladies to present themselves as “respectable” for doing anything that the day’s activities or appointments required.  A dinner dress has its origins from a time when women were on display, under the critique of society.  At the same time, a dinner dress presented women with yet another extension of fashion as well as a conventional opportunity to be a greater part of society.  See this post by Liz over at “The Pragmatic Costumer” blog for more dinner dress inspiration.

     For all that explaining, I’m still personally confused because an evening gown is so alike a dinner dress from a modern viewer’s perspective.  Supposedly a dinner dress was for a very specific time frame – after 5 pm, but not past one’s bedtime – so it was definitely not for an evening out.  Yet, I am not bound by these conventions and have worn this as if it is an evening dress for a night of dancing.  Nothing can compare to the swirl of such a full hemline!  

     The fabric of this dinner dress was recommended to be chiffon, organza, taffeta, voile, netting, and ninon fabric.  In other words, a lightweight semi-translucent woven that has a crisp structure to its hang seems to be ideal for this design, probably to keep the full skirt silhouette without needing a petticoat or hem stiffening. I did follow the pattern’s envelope recommendations to the letter because not only did I want to be specific about making a dinner dress but also the perfect novelty organza happened to come my way.  Leftover Christmas material stuck me as very St. Patrick’s Day themed when I found it in the clearance racks in March, and buying it became one of my rare impulse purchases.  Holiday aside, it is a wonderful organza that has bright green satin thread woven through it to imitate the look of attached ribbons.  I have seen vintage material very similar to this fabric on old 1930s dresses and thus I was over the moon to find such a fabric. 

original 1930s sheer satin striped evening gown from “Sweet Disorder Vintage”

     I was stuck in a rut over how to interpret the dinner dress before this ribbon organza came my way. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with my idea if there are a few 1930s originals to back me up on the material being era appropriate.  Yet, the stiffer structure, dressy but not formal status, and semi-sheer opacity of the fabric also helped this dress to check off all the rest of the boxes I had to fill for me to have the “perfect” vintage dinner dress.  With either a bold print or a solid color for this dress, I could see my smaller height might make me look drowned in fabric.  Vertical stripes are slimming and lengthening and were the balance I wanted between plainness and busyness.  So many stripes are a lot to look at, but to me it is a controlled chaos that also provides some direction to the design.  The seam lines and interesting cut of the grain are shown off in a way that may have otherwise been lost in either a print or a solid.  Plus, the hint of see-through between the stripes creates a subtle hint of sexiness as well as the impression that the dress is light and airy…and it is!  I hardly feel it on me.  It was important to keep this dinner dress weightless with as much fabric as was needed.

     The pattern itself was overwhelming to work with…the pieces were so large they barely fit in the envelope!  This of course carries over into the fabric amounts needed.  The view with the short sleeves (view A, the one I was making) calls for 6 ½ yards for a 50” wide material and 8 ½ yards for ones 35” width (such a small selvedge is very common for fine fabrics as well as any dating to the 1930s era).  Just think of how heavy this would have been in a satin or crepe!  However, my fabric was a clearance find and I found myself at the mercy of whatever amount was leftover.  I was only able to buy a three yard cut and then a two yard cut, giving me only 5 (divided) yards to work with.  The cutting counter employee did an inventory search but did not find any other cuts of the ribbon satin in town.  I had to make do with what I could find.  I doubt there are very many sewists of today that have 6 to 8 yards of any fine fabric on hand.  I would’ve been reluctant to buy (and sew with) that much, anyway.  How did a woman of the 1930s have that much material?!?  I guess it goes to show just how much the United States had recovered from the Great Depression…or maybe we were just having fantastically glorious aspirations.  No doubt it was important to have a home sewing pattern of such a garment as this because going the homemade route may have very well been the only way certain women could afford the extravagance of such a garment. 

     My fabric was 55” width and the five yards I had only put me at a 1 ½ yard discrepancy.  It only took a few rather necessary modifications to make things work.  Firstly, I pinched out some of the fullness to the skirt hem from the knees down.  This makes the dress have a graduated fullness, and it is still plenty full for my liking!  Next, I found the overall length of the finished dress to be longer than the average tall woman’s height, so I folded up the pattern in equal gradients to suit my almost petite frame.  Even with doing these adjustments the waist and hips ended up being a few inches too long on me.  Yet, this was nothing that a little letting out of some seam allowance room couldn’t fix.  In all, I generally didn’t have much to adjust for the try-ons which I did in between construction.  My pattern tissue modifications did the trick for fitting both the dress on my body and the pattern on the fabric.  Never take vintage patterns for granted…always measure up to find the finished sizing to whatever old design you find yourself working with before cutting.  You’ll save yourself grief later.  I didn’t have any fabric to fall back on here and everything had to be perfect the first attempt.  I nailed it, happily!

     Just any undergarment was not going to do here when the dress is semi-sheer.  Therefore, I used two (probably 1990s era) black nylon half-slips that my mom no longer wanted to refashion something for myself.  They were in sizes too large for me in lengths that reached down to the floor and never worn (still with tags).  I had a good amount of fabric to work with here, so one slip became my main body, and the other slip was cut into strips for a ruffled bottom hem.  The fabric of these slips is a lightweight tricot nylon mesh, so it is equally as weightless as the dress yet entirely opaque.  I loved using what was on hand to make the slip – a rather unnoticed touch but still something that my dress needed to be fully completed.

     It is wonderful to be able to re-imagine this vestige of fashion history from the past for my enjoyment today!  Such a dress is timeless in the way that – even today – it gives grace of movement, beauty of form, and an air of luxury.  It proves that you don’t have to “bare it all” to be appealing, attractive, and enticing.  There can be a strong power of suggestion behind a finely crafted dress! 

It’s no wonder long length, fancy lounge and evening wear is having a moment of popularity amongst the vintage community and revival in the designer world.  The very year I made my dinner dress (2022) Rodarte came out with a dreamy, very late-1930s inspired collection for Fall-Winter, and two of their dresses (look no.35 and no.44) were quite close in design lines to my own vintage original dinner dress.  I want to point out that the king of irony and shock-value – Italian designer Franco Moschino – resurrected the “dinner dress” idea in the most humorous and lighthearted way possible for 1989.  See it here on the MET Museum’s site for yourself!  A little black cocktail frock with a cravat that looks like a napkin – complete with dinnerware as decoration – is a hilarious but literal interpretation of a dinner dress that everyone can understand with little explanation. 

     I do love the idea of dressing up to enjoy a meal with friends or family.  When the effort can be made, it’s a wonderful way to show love and appreciation for those around you.  Sharing a meal is something special.  Many cultures and traditions see food as a manifestation of love and empathy, and we make sure to carry some of such a beautiful understanding into our family.  Food and clothing are basic human needs but can nourish so much more than carnal concerns…they both can cultivate creativity, charity, character, companionship, and comfort.  When you can combine those needs into one…well that is a kind of magic that heals, builds bridges, and creates memories.  Do we need to bring dinner dresses back, do you think?  I’m ready to try!  Who knew clothes meant for dining in could be so fun and fancy yet still comfortable?

Puffy Parka

     We have an extra day out of this February!  What should we do with a gratuitous day for 2024?  Here on my blog, you get to see my handsome little man for your leap day bonus!  For your viewing pleasure, this extra day is my opportunity to post a recent unselfish sewing endeavor, a new coat for my son.  I told you at the end of last year (in this post) that I would be putting my skills to use for filling in the gaps of my son’s wardrobe.  This time I put lots of care and attention into the fine details of a puffy parka coat and customized it to his needs and tastes.  This way he has something better than any store could ever offer, as well as a token of his mother’s love!  Oh, doesn’t he look handsome in it??  

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  the exterior is a JoAnn Fabrics “POP!” brand of material in a waterproof, rip-stop polyester quilted from behind with a poly fiberfill; the interior has a JoAnn brand of flannel backed satin in bright white

PATTERN: Burda Style #129 “Child Parka” pattern from August 2018 magazine

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, three zippers (one long front separating zipper and two small 5” zips for the pockets), as well as some elastic binding for hemming the sleeves in an adjustable manner

TIME TO COMPLETE:  To trace out and custom fit the pattern for my son took me several hours alone, and then making it took over 30 hours.  It was finished in time for the first cold weather in November 2023.

THE INSIDES:  This is a fully finished coat and so the lining covers the seams for a smooth interior.

TOTAL COST:  The 5 inch pocket zippers were $6.50 each from Amazon while the center (main) zipper was $8 from Zipper Shipper. Two yards of each material came to about $40 (divided out – $25 for the exterior and $15 for the lining).  This coat was about $60.

I took a picture of the quilted coat insides before sewing in the lining!

    First off, let me dive into a bit of terminology to define a parka in comparison to a puffer coat.  These two are today’s most popular outwear choices!  Parkas are generally heavier in weight and longer in hem length than puffers, which are better for moderate cold temperatures.  Parkas normally have a generously sized hood, whereas puffers are not always hooded.  Whereas a puffer traps your body heat while still being lightweight and simplified, parkas are more about keeping the elements out and insulating you with thick lining.  With such definitions, I think the Burda listing may be some confusion with language lost in translation.  Calling this a parka does cover the bases since this pattern is supposed to be versatile enough to use many kinds of fabrics – insulated poly, cotton denim, a sweatshirt knit, or even fur.  The JoAnn fabric was listed as a “Puffer fabric”, though, since the signature to a puffer jacket is its insulated quilted panels.  Thus, I may be interchangeably using both terms in this post when addressing my son’s coat as my son’s coat is a combo of specific elements from a puffer and a parka.  He gets the best of both worlds with a mom-made coat. 

     I greatly simplified the pattern by buying the pre-quilted fabric.  It was a strategic decision, really.  The pattern called for me to buy the inner warmth layer and outer layer separately so as to stitch the quilted panels into the coat pieces myself.  This made assembly as easy as possible.  Nevertheless, the lofty fiberfill backing made the seams a bit challenging to sew which helped this coat be a very good learning experience for me.   I am impressed at how well this fabric behaved in constructing the coat and how well it worked for this Burda design.  My lining fabric (listed above in “The Facts”) has the satin side out, so not only is the inside visibly appealing, but the coat is also able to effortlessly slide on over his clothes.  With the flannel side facing in (aka, the wrong side) nestled up against the fiberfill quilting, the two inner layers give this coat its amazing warm-but-lightweight properties.  I did learn how fabulous the combo of flannel-backed satin and a plush poly exterior could be when I made myself this Burda cocoon coat (posted here).  I am so happy I found a new way to use and expand on that previous knowledge with this parka to make the perfect coat my son needed.  Every project I make – whether for me or someone else – is only more experience under my belt!

     The hood was surprisingly my favorite part to sew.  I had never before sewn a three-piece hood with a center panel.  I know this kind of hood is not novel – I see it on some of the ready-to-wear coats we already have for either myself or my husband.  However, it is a different story to merely see a design element, than it is to cut it out and sew it together yourself.  I have a renewed appreciation.  Such a hood style shapes nicely around the head into a wonderful curve, which helps it stay up nicely without the tie closures (something I left out of the original design).  The deep hood almost shades my son’s eyes and is generous enough to keep his ears warm out of the wind.  I do love Burda patterns for myself, but (as I stated before in this post) they really have great kids’ patterns, too. 

     One of the best parts about sewing my son his clothes is how they can last for much longer than store bought clothes, if I work in some adaptations to help them grow with him.  He is still shooting up like a weed, but unlike the single digit years, I can better estimate where he will need the extra space to grow now that he is nearing his teens.   If I am going to sew for him, I am darn well going to make it last!!  This way I can feel like my time was well spent, his clothes can see more usage, and he can enjoy his mom-made item for longer… It’s an all-around win!

     As I have done before for shirts and other items, I choose a size smaller than what he needs because his body is skinny with small shoulders.  In this case, he is almost 12 and the pattern only went up to a 10, but it was roomy in fit so this size was okay.  Then, I lengthen the arms and main body of the pattern to accommodate his longer taller frame.  Yet, on top of that, I added in an extra two inches to the hems so I can give him room to grow the way his body consistently seems to do.  This was so I can let out whatever hems or tucks I hide inside and have an item that fits longer than the average store bought item.  Sure, his clothes may fit on the generous side the first year they are made (as is the case for this coat), but he doesn’t mind…and neither do I.  Seeing clothes as something that is meant to last is a superpower which will save the world from the fast and cheap fashion mentality.  The last coat I made him (posted here), his housecoat (see the post here), and his 1940s corduroy overalls (posted here) have all lasted at least 3 years by following my sewing practices for adapting to a growing child!

     I have good reason to make this coat last – there are two zippered welt pockets.  For the vehemence with which I despise doing welt pockets, these did turn out really nice.  I took my time, took a break before I got frustrated, and made sure my stitching was exact and clean.  These pockets turned out perfect!  The Burda Instructions were rather confusing, so I just made these pockets the way that I knew how.  My methods worked out fine, so I suppose I was perhaps following instructions anyway!  It was such a trick to attach the pockets.  However, if my son had bigger hands, the 5” wide opening may have been restrictively small.  I lucked out on being able to even find small zippers in an olive green to match with the center zipper.  At least I thought ahead to enlarge the actual pocket bag to be bigger so he could have room for thick gloves!   

     There is a completely new additional finishing detail to spot on this handmade item.  See the customized label at the back of the neck!  I used a JoAnn Fabrics store gift certificate from someone to go buy myself a handheld label printing machine.  It is the “Brother” brand P-Touch Label Maker and I definitely recommend it.  I found it easy to learn and use, plus the satin labels are so nice.  My son’s coat does have a printed button that says “Handmade for you with love!” but then his custom label has his name and phone number…because this is the only thing he cannot lose!  I had it printed in gold ink (to make it look fancy) and I let him choose from different border themes.  This label printing machine is a great acquisition and the perfect treat for me as well as a tool to jazz up my sewing for others.  The label helps him actually keep his coat off the floor too by giving him a way to hang it!  

     My son definitely takes after me (who takes after my dad) with his love for camouflage.  For most of his life, he has said that camouflage is his favorite color.  (Let the kid have his own taste, right?)  This coat has such a fun spin on the traditional camouflage.  I tried a sweatshirt in the traditional print (posted here), and even made myself a dress in a pink and purple version of the color pattern (posted here).  This coat’s camouflage has every hunter’s necessary color of bright orange, his “most often worn” color of blue, a great military olive green, all against a basic white background.  He sort of blends in with a natural environment while also standing out.  I love that we could share our love of camouflage and that this handmade coat makes him happy.  He might not show his feelings in the pictures I was taking because he got all serious and toned down his energy to try to look like what he thought was professional posing.  I don’t know where he gets it from…

“Il Buon Gusto…All In Good Taste”  

     In these last few years, I have found myself immensely entertained by the character of Fran Fine from “The Nanny”, a 1990s era American television sitcom.  Together with my relatively recent appreciation for campy 1980s and 1990s fashion, as well as my itch to discover more designers of that time, it was only a manner of “when” and not “if” I fell head-over-heels for the irreverent originality of the Italian designer Franco Moschino.  Recently, I happened to acquire a cut of authentic Moschino brand fabric and knew it was time to sew my newest designer fascination into being a reality!  Combined with a pair of authentic Moschino pleather pants, I have an outfit that can let me carry the loud luxury and bold confidence of the brand in my very own interpretation. 

     This outfit comes just in time to celebrate the heavenly birthday of Franco Moschino on February 27th!  Coincidentally enough, Moschino’s special Spring/Summer 2024 collection (unveiled September 2023 in Milan, Italy) is celebrating the 40th anniversary of its founding.  I delight in the fact that I find myself perfectly poised to celebrate this anniversary in appropriately classic retro styling.  All the classic trademark visuals are here in my outfit – there are hearts on my fabric’s branded print, and then the peace sign, the dairy cow, and the oversized “M” are zipper charms on my quality stretch faux leather pants.  This set would not be at all complete without THE most classic Moschino symbol of all…a red heart shaped handbag (of which mine is admittedly a cheaper imitation).  Humorously enough, such a purse is interchangeably a classic visual symbol of the character Fran Fine, aka Fran Drescher from “The Nanny” sitcom, who rocked a whole lot of Moschino over the course of the series!  I feel like this set is totally something Fran could have worn.  I do have some fluffy crazy hair to match her look, too.  It makes my day to have an outfit that combines the Moschino brand with a Fran Fine flair!  

     I estimate the pleather pants to be from anytime between 1986 and 1999 while my Moschino fabric is from the late 2000 decade.  This means my set bookends “The Nanny”, which aired for six seasons from 1993 to 1999, and my fabric comes after Franco Moschino died in September 1994 at the age of only 44.  The cow charm on my pair of faux leather pants is the perfect (yet unsurprising) touch of irony and also one of my keys to dating this piece.  A black and white dairy cow with the world map on its side was an icon of his, especially for the Spring/Summer 1994 10th anniversary show.  However the cow could also have been inspired by the environmentally friendly “Eco-Couture!” line he launched in 1993, a year before his passing.  I thought about these dates in comparison to what patterns I currently had on hand and picked something from 1989 in the designer-inspired NY NY McCall’s line of offerings. 

Moschino 1989

     Circa 1989 seemed appropriate as a pivotal time frame for Moschino, as well as for a peer from a different country – Patrick Kelly, the first (black) American Designer to rise to annals of Parisian Couture.  Both of these men were outsiders who made their way into a system which needed their revolutionary outlook, yet which also looked down upon them as unwelcome.  Where Kelly was pigeon-holed derisively as the “King of Cling”, Moschino was seen as an impertinent clown, their “Court Jester”.  The two of them did liberally use similar themes, symbols, and imagery in their runway collections between 1988 and 1990.  However, a black leather-look, fun zipper charms, and bright and playful heart symbols are all easy touch-points of specific comparison, not to mention the fact that some of the same supermodels (such as Pat Cleveland) walked down the runways of both their shows.  After all, both designers made it subversively obvious that they were frequently spoofing the ideas of their fellow designers – such as Chanel, Schiaparelli, or even each other – to remake existing concepts for their own purpose.  So, even with all the inspiration already attached to this set, I am happy to think it also has the vibes of my favorite designer Patrick Kelly!

     Before I dive into the sewing process, let me clarify a bit about Franco Moschino’s brand as there are many subsidiaries, as well as pricing tiers, to add confusion to the mix.  Moschino’s “Couture!” was his first line to be opened in 1983 and it established his classic crazy looks.  In the next year, he introduced a short-lived line of menswear.  Then, “Cheap and Chic” was begun in 1988.  Its items were offered at a slightly lower price point than his couture pieces, without lacking the flair of the original Moschino ideals.  (I do have an original piece from this line, to be shown in a future post!)  “Cheap and Chic” garments have garish prints, bold colors, or oversized decorative elements all based on relatively simple design lines.  “Cheap and Chic” was very popular for the way it used predictable styles in an unpredictable way, but was later consolidated into “Boutique Moschino” in 2014 when the brand’s creative director became a non-Italian, the American Jeremy Scott. 

     The line “Love Moschino” was introduced in 2008 under the direction of Rossella Jardini, Moschino’s friend who was responsible for continuing his brand after his death.  “Love Moschino” used elements and color schemes reminiscent of the early days of Franco’s designing, but with more of a “Pop Art” air.  This specific line is how most people probably know of the brand since it is even more popular than any other Moschino offerings, being budget-friendly with designs for men, women, and children.  Such items mostly keep to fun and crazy prints that are on-brand, yet they also include interesting seaming and complex designs. “Love Moschino” was offered as a replacement for shuttering the “Moschino Jeans” brand, begun in 1986.  I don’t know why the jeans brand wasn’t popular because I am head-over-heels for the pants I have!  The pleather is so soft and stretchy, and comfortably lined in a soft woven cotton, with an excellent overall fit.  To think of how I combined the end of one Moschino line with the beginning of another into one outfit just makes me smile to myself!  Such an overall paradox gave me the title to my post.  Since the beginning of his brand, Moschino was known for challenging conventions, insisting “Il buon gusto non esiste; Good taste (in fashion), doesn’t exist.”  This famously weighty quote has been used front and center in many Moschino fashions over the years, and I feel it is still here in my set even if only referred to in my title. 

     For my own personal interpretation of a “Love Moschino” piece, I wanted to find a blouse or top design that kept the characteristics of the line, yet had my own taste.  I needed a cropped bodice to end above my waistline to complement the high rise of my pleather pants.  Such a design would emphasize my waist in a good way, I figured, since I do have and hourglass shape and the pants show my wide hips.  Ideally, something a bit complex in design, yet with limited seams, would be perfect so as to keep the print visible.  The fabric was interesting enough to confuse my situation, too.  The printed exterior was a crepe finish and soft in hand yet the fabric was also thick and stable like a scuba knit.  Would it gather nicely?  Do I need a closure or could this stretch enough to slip on me?  After much indecisiveness, I finally settled on this faux wrap design which had a little bit of everything on my checklist.  It was only one part of an ensemble pattern that offers a top, skirt, and bolero with a “tribal” vibe.  The sleeves are a comfortable cut-on dolman style to widen my shoulders and play along with my hourglass shape.  The overall styling reminds of a 1950s throwback style.  I love the 1990s for the way it reworked older vintage styles into a new interpretation.

THE FACTS

FABRIC:  a polyester crepe-finish scuba knit fabric

PATTERN:  McCall’s NY NY “The Collection” pattern #4309, year 1989

NOTIONS NEEDED:  thread and some bias tape for facing the neckline

TIME TO COMPLETE:  My top was finished in 3 or 4 hours on February 12, 2024.    

THE INSIDES:  Any scuba fabric or knit that is this dense does not fray, so the edges stay clean being left raw.

TOTAL COST:  I only spent $25 for the fabric and found the pants for about $50. What a deal!

     I simplified the pattern and resized it up at the same time.  I eliminated the center back button closure and instead laid the back out on the fold.  Tiny back buttons both seemed too fussy to try, besides being difficult to work into the thick fabric.  I added just the bit of extra room that I needed along that back bodice foldline.  Finally, I ditched the back darts to give me a smooth back that was one simple T-shaped piece.   With the back perfected, the front was too complex to properly resize.  Then, I added a bit of room to the front’s side seams to match with what I added to the back.  As my last hack, I left out the given facing pieces along the neckline interior in lieu of a simple bias tape finishing.  These adaptations worked out great and helped my design fit onto the one yard of fabric that I had on hand. 

     I am so happy that gathering the thick, unusual material succeeded enough to pull off the criss-crossed wrap front.   This design is everything!!  It was quite odd to sew and it looked weird on paper, but does wonders to slim my waist and make for a unique design that pairs so well with my Moschino pants.  Nevertheless, I did find frustration by having to sew all but a few inner seams by hand.  Even with trying several kinds of brand new needles there were snags or runs created by the machine catching, pulling, or pushing out the lofty crepe finish.  It didn’t make sense, but I rolled with it.  Lucky for me, this project still turned out to be a quick and easy.  This was my last-minute secondary Valentine’s Day outfit to go out with my husband for dinner the day before that holiday.  Moschino is the perfect medium to carry the spirit of Valentine’s Day into every day, as I spoke of in my previous blog post.  There is no better way for the current me to get into a celebratory mood, anyway, than to put on some fun 1980s or 90’s clothing!

     Moschino had an important interview with New York Magazine in December 1989 and I love how it is revealing of the outlook that drove his creativity.  In that interview, he said one of his most famous quotes, “Fashion is absolutely tacky.”  However, the rest of that 1989 interview is equally as interesting. “Being fashionable is not positive at all. Fashion kills people. As a designer, I have to convince you to change – to cut your hair, to change the frames of your glasses. You’re a creature of the fashion system, a Muppet, not yourself.”  Another slogan, one of the highlights to his circa 1991 show, follows on this same idea – “Fashion shows can be dangerous for your health.” 

     I have found a benefit of being reliant on sewing my own handmade wardrobe is the way I feel no siren’s call to bow to the latest passing fad and have no dependency on what the Ready-to-wear industry tells me to wear.  This freedom of thought is what Moschino seemed to be trying to teach with what he designed.  I love that there is a designer who looks at the fashion world as being both a part of yet still apart from the system.  Even though I come from a sewing-centered side of this same outlook, I feel that it is the best way to approach trends and work through them to stay true to your own sense of style.  Especially through fast fashion and micro-trends of modern times, one can see how overly commercialized fashion can be dangerous to living as a self-confident, open-minded individual.  One of his slogan posters said “Advertising can cause serious damage to your brain…and to your wallet.”  The rise of social media has shaped an influencer culture that can be unhealthy for the mental and emotional well-being of those consumers.  It is impressive that Moschino saw the toxic traits of the fashion system way ahead of the clear issues we have today.  He used his position as an esteemed fashion designer to actually make a difference, too, until untimely illness took him away from the world.

     I am a fan of Moschino due to his rebellious, campy, but overall loving, conscious, caring approach to fashion.  Franco stood by his brand’s eccentricity from the beginning of its founding, saying, “Fashion should be fun and should send a message.”  Camp is both earnest and lighthearted at getting dressed – it sees our daily routine as an opportunity to enjoy both finding personal expression and making a silent statement.  As flippant as that may sound, it leaves the door of fashion open to let people be themselves with what they wear and not feel like they have to change or hide who they are to visually “fit in”.  What can be more emphatic that this outlook?!   “Life has many attitudes, and so is fashion” was yet another one of Franco Moschino’s many slogans…one with which I couldn’t agree more. 

     Have you noticed Moschino before, or are you already a fan, too?  Do you agree with his “Il buon gusto non esiste”?  Has my post inspired you to look into his wonderful variety of styles?  Check out my Moschino Pinterest board here for some eye candy.  Maybe you can simply relate to this post via Fran Fine.  Drop a line if you concur that she is a standout 1990s fashion icon!!