The “Cottontail Caper” Easter Dress Set

     I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter weekend, and found a taste of the joy, peace, and beauty of the season! 

     Let’s hop right into what I wore for the day.  My holiday dress set this year was as sweet as a basket full of jelly beans.  I found a feminine dress pattern from the early 1940s style and used a quaint novelty print cotton portraying images for the occasion all in classic Pascal colors. 

However, no Easter dress would be complete (in my book) without having a full ensemble.  Therefore, I made a lightweight blazer and a little turban inspired hat, both from the same year as my dress – 1941.  The early 40s are visually definitive in their styles and I enjoyed highlighting a specific year of the decade with my entire look.  Luckily, the rainy, cold weather held off long enough for me to both enjoy wearing my dress without a coat and snap these pictures! 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  Dress – barely two yards of a 100% cotton print, “Fabric Traditions”, year 2014, along the selvedge; Blazer – a purple linen and rayon blend; Hat – a polyester felt

PATTERN:  Simplicity #3992, year 1941, for the dress and a Mail Order pattern #5920 for the blazer, both vintage originals from my collection. The hat was my own design.

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, some bias tape for finishing the neckline of both the dress and blazer, as well as closures (zipper, buttons, hooks)

TIME TO COMPLETE:  Both the dress and blazer were finished in March 2025. The dress was sewn in about 12 hours, while the blazer took 7 hours to make.  The hat was made several years ago, and crafted in one hour.

THE INSIDES:  cleanly finished with a combo of bias tape and a tight edge stitching to prevent fraying.

TOTAL COST:  The bunny fabric for my dress was bought last year (2024) on our way to vacation in Colorado.  It was found at “The Brass Armadillo” Antique Mall for only eight dollars.  The blazer’s linen remnant was from the now-defunct JoAnn Fabrics, bought on clearance for only four dollars. The felt was leftover from a past project and has been in my stash long enough to be free.  Everything else I needed came from on hand and was mostly vintage.  My Easter set only cost me less than $15!!

     The least handmade detail to my Easter set shall be first in this post, so I will start by talking about my hat.  Several years ago, I was strongly enough inspired by the elegant, draped turban hats of the late 1930s to early 1940s to try and make my own.  In particular, the creations of Lilly Daché, a French-born American milliner who was at the height of her popularity in the 1930s and 40s, interested me by her unusual use of trimming, netting, flowers, and sewing materials to make hats which avoided rationing restrictions.  A velvet turban of hers from circa 1940 was the specific source I was trying to imitate and feel that I succeeded in imitating to a point which made me happy.  I did not have a definite outfit to pair it with at the time, but merely wanted a quick, satisfying project of making something different.  It was easy to draft off of my head size with minimal sewing needed.  I basically sewed a skull cap, closely fitted to my head, with a seam down the center and extension tabs at the front which were pleated into a fan shape.  The felt I used has enough structure that this feels like a traditional hat, even if it was drafted simply and sewn as if a turban.

     I came across this hat when searching for a period appropriate “Easter bonnet” to pair with my dress set.  As much as I love the look of this hat worn as intended (with the fans above my head), it is a very dramatic style and was not immediately a great pairing with my Easter outfit.  The flying fans couldn’t help but make me think of bunny ears, a reference which was a little too much on theme.  I turned the hat around and wore the fans down over my hair instead.  This way is a more subdued style on par with my dress while still accurate.  My dress is so charming it reminds me of a juniors design, and I remembered that skull cap hats were popular with teenagers in the early 1940s.  Wearing the hat upside down from what was intended has it looking more akin to a youthful 40s style.  Besides being less flashy, switching the hat around proved to me that it is more versatile than originally thought.  I was thrilled to have a handmade hat for Easter without any more sewing needed.  For vintage fashion, accessories really help round out my vintage outfits and help me tell the whole story of my inspiration and tastes.

     I keep finding myself in the predicament of imagining the perfect pairing of fabric to pattern, only to find my idea runs a little short on supplies.  All the pieces made for this Easter set were close-calls when it came to squeezing them out of minimal fabric cuts.  My dress is an extreme example of this dilemma.  Its pattern calls for 3 yards of 39” wide material for the short sleeve version, and I was working with just under 2 yards of 45” width fabric.  My difficulty lay in the fact the fabric was a one-way directional print, while the pattern needed more room to be graded up to my size.  My one saving grace was the large ¾ inch seam allowances added into the pattern pieces along the dress’ side seams.  These gave me a buffer.  Thank goodness for the smart designs of vintage patterns!  I was able to do an overall 3/8 inch seam allowance for all seams and end up fitting into this dress, after all. 

     Such problem solving mental acrobatics in sewing is far too frequent in my many projects.  Then again, when shopping at rummage sales, second-hand markets, and remnant bins, you have to be willing to work with what you can find.  Sustainable and thrifty shopping habits are always worthwhile, however, and I love the challenge they present as well as the opportunity to find greater individuality with my projects.  I feel so ridiculously satisfied when there are hardly any scraps leftover from cutting, just infinitesimally small bits, and happy my bin for leftover material does not have anything more to absorb.  Small yardages of fabric are just undersized parcels of great potential, as you can see by the way my Easter set turned out so cute!  

     With the arched empire waistline and flared princess seamed skirt, I was wary that this dress may have the same fitting issues which were found with a similarly designed gown from 1939 (posted here).  Such forethought also gave me confidence in both nailing the fit and enjoying the silhouette.  Just like that 1939 gown, this dress also had a long waistline great for tall women, which is not my body type.  I compensated for this fact at the pattern stage with a moderate adjustment of raising the waistline and giving myself extra wearing ease by adding width in the hips.  Nevertheless, the vertical midsection was found to still run slightly long once the dress was sewn together.  This was corrected by picking up the shoulders by ¾ inch (the sleeves had not yet been added).  Such a fix was something the bodice needed anyway.  With one step, I took care of the drooping bodice, which was slightly gaping across my chest, as well as bringing the waist and hip proportions up to my body’s needs.  Even with shortening the length of the waistline to match my petite frame, this style of dress is slimming and makes me feel taller than I am.  No wonder dresses with a fit-and-flare skirt combined with empire waist seem to be something on repeat in my wardrobe again and again (see this 30’s inspired version, a 70s era one, and a modern interpretation).

The extra panel down the center back bodice is where I was short of fabric. Here you can at least see the sleeve panels.

     There were a few places I skimped on the original design lines in order to help the rest of the dress’s pattern pieces work out on my reduced fabric amount.  Firstly, the 2 ½ inch hem depth was eliminated.  I merely turned the hem under twice, in half inch increments, for a slimmer hem which could be finished easily on my machine.  Secondly, I had each sleeve be divided out into a trio of small panels.  The layout of the skirt pattern pieces and the bodice were my priorities, while the sleeves were forced to work out of anything leftover.  A middle swath of each sleeve was a panel, and each side was a small panel as well.   The seaming that this paneling adds to my sleeves is actually something that I like the look of much better than if a plain sleeve had been cut.  Being mostly hidden under my arms, the seams are inconspicuous but not hidden due to my topstitching of the seam allowance.  The seams actually end up adding some strength to the sleeves for when the fabric gets pulled as I reach forward.  Being forced to make alterations such as this so often ends up giving me a project that has design elements I love, than if I had not been forced to adapt.  

I wore my vintage Ferragamo heels for Easter!

     As 2025 Easter was later in the calendar than other years, I wanted a jacket which would suit what I supposed would be a warmer holiday.  Even if the day was not the perfect spring day, the light and bright colors of my dress’ fabric seemed to call for a light jacket and not a full-blown suit coat, as I often sew for Easter.  I already have so much purple, though, I needed my project to be versatile.  Thus I chose this vintage light jacket, which is unlined, and can be also worn alone as a blouse.  Linen, besides being historically correct, is a breathable fabric, which makes it great to be either a layering piece or as a standalone separate.  My material was a perfect mid-weight for a versatile item such as this.  Useful garments are more exciting to me than luxurious projects.  I get to enjoy them on a regular basis.  I now have yet another 1940s item that will be a part of my go-to wardrobe. 

     Vintage mail order patterns can have the most unpredictable fit, yet this jacket was happily found to be spot on for me.  I followed the given size chart on the instructional sheet and graded up the small sized pattern accordingly after tracing a copy onto thin medical paper.  Adding in a total of 4 inches, the fit came out to be perfectly my size, without needing any tweaking.  The sleeves are remarkably roomy and give great reach room, and the main body is comfortable yet not baggy.  I did have to enlarge the neckline a significant amount.  The jacket needed to show a little of the dress underneath and not give me the sensation it was choking me.  I also added decorative cuffs along the sleeve hems, not something which was a part of the pattern.  The cuffs are a touch of my own design.  Inspired by the curving front neckline, I drafted overlapping cuffs with curved ends.  A matching scrap of purple cotton broadcloth from on hand lined the underside, helping the cuffs look good enough to roll up for an optional change of appearance.  Finally, since this was an Easter jacket, I went for some novelty white rabbit buttons in my stash to help my set be fully on theme.    

     I estimate that the mail order pattern used for my jacket is from 1941, making it the perfect pairing for my dress.  However, many mail order patterns are notoriously challenging to pin down precisely.  Calculated but knowledgeable deduction is the answer to clarifying missing attribution.  After you’ve sewn or viewed a large variety of 1940s clothing, you can begin to see the prevalent micro trends of every year or two.  The darted, sculpted sleeve cap “heads” are the first dead giveaway for either 1941 or 1942.  The smooth fit, curving seams, and high hip hemline of the jacket tells me that it is early in the 1940s, as well.  However, there are other patterns advertised on the side of the instruction sheet (see picture at right) showing a negligée which is the spitting image of this 1940 Simplicity nightgown (see my project’s post here).  Such info helps me place my mystery pattern to 1941 rather than the following year.  Even still, this pattern comes from The Prairie Farmer, a newspaper for agricultural and rural news for the state of Illinois, so it may actually have been offered years after its style was first introduced.  Many countryside communities in the 1940s did not have the best communication input and were not always up-to-date on current trends.

     After fussing so much about dating the pattern, I experimented with my wardrobe to find other items which may also co-ordinate with the jacket, only to find it looks very 1980s, after all.  The phrase “1980s-does-1940s” is overused…the 1940s can be very 80s in appearance!  The flared shaping, strong shoulder line, and rich color helps it be a dead ringer for a mid-1980s jacket, especially when worn on its own as a blouse.  It is everything which makes the suits of the 80’s (especially those of Yves Saint Laurent) so attractive and powerful.  This 40s piece can be viewed as the original form that the 1980s was drawing from.  Digging in my stash of old jewelry, I used vintage snap-on button covers from the 1980s to turn my bunny buttons into fancy gold ones so the jacket would match with my 1985 Givenchy suit skirt (posted here).    

     Now that I know how much I like the style and fit of the jacket, as well as just how to grade it up, I am itching to come back to the pattern and sew the matching sundress.  It will have to be a fun print to offset the solid jacket, and I am excited to dive into my stash of novelty prints, even if nothing will come close to how adorably unique my bunny print is.

     A nuisance creature of many backyards gets one day of goodwill in the light of many children’s eyes as the harbinger of Easter eggs and sweet treats.  It is fun to find a grown up way to enjoy the fantasies of the innocent through my handmade Easter set.  Even though the holiday is now past, hopefully this post can help you enjoy that day in a special way all over again. 

Athletic Trousers of the Early 20th Century

     A hundred years ago, what was the equivalent to today’s yoga pants and other athletic gear for women’s active undertakings of the past?  It certainly wasn’t Lululemon clothes, it wasn’t even mere trousers, but was often jodhpurs!  These odd shaped bottoms are designed for ease of movement and to create a dramatic fashion statement.  Of course, I have been itching to try them for years, yet acquiring a true vintage pair wouldn’t satisfy my desire to understand the mysteries behind their assembly.  When Butterick Company dropped a vintage (1920s to 30s) inspired jodhpur design in a modern pattern format, I happily knew these unique athletic trousers were going to be welcomed into my wardrobe.  I love this opportunity to understand what it was like to explore and adventure the old-fashioned way in jodhpurs!  Now, who’s ready for a polo match with me?

     Women of the inter-war period (1918 to 1939) were adventurously exploring the world around them in new-found ways, and innovative fashions evolved to meet their changing needs and desires.  Jodhpurs were an article of clothing that began to be favored by women of the 1920s who started enjoying what was formerly masculine activities, such as race car driving, motorcycle riding, air plane piloting, horseback riding, wilderness hiking, and even just for traveling independently.  Jodhpurs were enough of a feminine garment that members of the Women’s Land Army were issued jodhpurs from the British government as an addition to their uniform coat!  As I do have an original Land Army uniform coat, I couldn’t help but pair it with my jodhpurs to depict a definitive circa 1943 historical outfit. See more detailed pictures to my coat and read more about the WLA in this 2018 post of mine (here).  I will even show you a sneak-peek of a year 1936 French bloused jacket that I just finished sewing recently (to be featured in its own post soon).  This second pairing gives my trousers a vision of how put-together was the fashionable athletic wear of the inter-war period.

     As can be seen, even though jodhpurs are a British trouser born of the sport of polo just before the turn of the 20^th century (more on that later in my post), women quickly adopted these menswear items for their own usage.  Even though jodhpurs often get attached to equestrian or military practice (such as what was worn by officers in both World Wars), they are so much more than that!  Ladies of the last hundred years have added an immense collective contribution to the usage of jodhpurs, and it shows in the annals of history.  I hope my post can properly convey how such a visually definitive garment can also be also be versatile, wearable, and fun.  Jodhpurs have a rich precedent associated to a spirit of freedom, enjoyment of fashion, a healthy athleticism, and the culture of leisure for both men and women alike. 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a khaki 100% cotton twill weave denim and a polyester imitation suede

PATTERN:  Butterick #6433

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of buttons, tons of thread, and interfacing scraps

TIME TO COMPLETE:  These took about 50 hours to sew in March 2024.

THE INSIDES:  The raw edges are cleanly finished with several rows of tight zig-zag stitching to imitate serging/overlocking.

TOTAL COST:  The faux suede was leftover from sewing my husband’s smoking jacket and the twill was bought secondhand on a deep discount.  The buttons were from a cheaply priced mega pack of buttons.  This project probably ended up costing me less than $10 in all.

     Even though the pattern came out in 2016, it took me years to gather the gumption to actually sew them.  I was wary of the different closure method, exhausted by the thought of 26 buttons and button holes, and afraid to get the fit wrong.  Perhaps they wouldn’t even look good on me?  I was also mystified as to where or how to justify wearing these.  However, last year’s trip to the mountains of Colorado solved that last issue for me, and I had at least one great reason to finally sew them!  For as time-consuming, intricate, and involved as they were to make, the jodhpurs tuned out every bit as wonderful as I had hoped they would be.  Sewing a memorable outfit for a special trip is great in itself.  Yet, that trip was my incentive to pick up this unique and long-awaited project, which became a rewarding challenge to my capability for executing detail-oriented techniques.  I enjoyed the construction process and found it was much more satisfying to sew jodhpurs than to buy a vintage pair, as I suspected.  Much of what mystified me about them (from a construction standpoint) was answered.  The rest of my questions behind the strange shaping and use of jodhpurs were (mostly) solved through researching the history behind their creation and derivatives.

     Fashion the world over owes much of its roots to the heritage arts of India.  This fact is especially applicable when it comes to jodhpurs.  Our mountain bungalow in Colorado serendipitously had both a polo stick (seen in my pictures) and an old Persian hand-painted miniature in an inlaid Vizakhapatnam frame depicting the game of polo (at right), and this happenstance could not have been any more on-point for my jodhpurs. 

Sir Singh with an English officer in WWI, circa 1916

Tailored jodhpurs emerged circa 1890 at the requests of Sir Pratap Singh, Regent to the western Indian city of Jodhpur in the modern state of Rajasthan.  As an avid equestrian rider and polo player, who took part in matches with British teams, Sir Pratap Singh devised an updated, streamlined version of the traditional Indian tapered leg long pants called ‘churidar‘ trousers.  India has continued to adapt and embrace jodhpurs into today, with men now wearing versions in fine fabrics such as high-end cottons or silks for evening wear, which look especially sharp when paired with a Nehru Jacket.  A current member of the Royal family of Jodhpur, Raghavendra Rathore, is a designer who, in 1994, launched his own brand specializing in bespoke modern Jodhpur trousers (and Bandhgala jackets).  He is successfully continuing to blend his heritage with that of contemporary fashion.

     Even though India often calls these trousers “Jodhpuri breeches”, jodhpurs are not to be confused with breeches, even if the two are closely related.  Breeches are basically a short trouser which is pleated, gathered, laced, buckled, buttoned, or closed just below the knee.  A hundred years ago, in the 1920s, breeches were known in a popular variant as “plus fours” or “knickers” enjoyed by golfers and college students alike.  In the alternate outfit pairings of my jodhpurs pictured at the beginning of my post, I was wearing my tall boots over my long jodhpurs in the manner of breeches.  It is all about the styling, the details, and the fabric which separates the two items in technical terms, because in reality they are similar enough to be interchangeable.  Just like much of fashion throughout the ages, jodhpurs are also changing to meet the current needs of its users, even if they are relatively “new” in the scheme of civilization.  Luckily, there are many available patterns for purchase so that anyone who can hire a seamstress or be their own tailor can choose to try out jodhpurs of every era, from the beginning of the 20^th century to today!  See this “Pattern Vault” blog post for some great inspiration and this Gentleman’s Gazette article for an excellent history of jodhpurs.

     It was an easy decision for me to choose appropriate supplies, since the perfect materials and notions happened to be on hand already from my rummage sale escapades.  I am wary of picking out projects too similar to each other.  When choosing my fabric, I remembered my brown silk pants (posted here) and tan 1940s style trousers (posted here).  Yet, I also realized these khaki jodhpurs would be completely different in appearance than those two projects and am glad to have listened to my gut preferences here.  After coming across so much inspiration in the research leading up to this post, I am half tempted to actually return to this pattern in the future and reserve some silk from my treasured stash to sew a fancy version in the manner of India’s modern traditions for jodhpurs. 

     Modern day jodhpurs are closer to athletic leggings than ever before, being almost exclusively in stretchy knits and pull-on designs today, stripped of the fine details seen on vintage versions.  However, I despise leggings.  Here, I was working with a vintage inspired design and thus was determined to sew these to be a blast from the past!  Traditionally, jodhpurs were made of heavy-duty fabrics that had great breathability combined with a soft but stable structure.  Wool felt has been a popular choice in this direction (especially for a wintertime option), but cotton twill was the fabric of Sir Pratap Singh’s original jodhpurs (perfect for a temperate climate).  A particularly luxurious version of the latter material is what happened to be in my stash in the perfect amount of yardage, about two yards.  This is an accessible and reasonable amount of fabric to end up with a project this special.  Now you know something out-of-the-ordinary which you can sew using two yards!  

     This Butterick pattern offers stylish jodhpurs and not 100% authentic ‘working’ versions.  Yet, even fashionable versions of the past had always been both useful and chic, just as these are.  Real jodhpurs would be lacking an inner thigh inseam to avoid chafing.  I was not confident enough in my understanding of the pattern to enact such a change.  Real riding trousers would have thick leather protection along the inner thighs.  Faux suede fabric is what I had available on hand, but is also more washable and easy to sew than real leather while still stabilizing the inseam.  I do not expect to ever wear these for playing polo, so I was not committed to sewing these to be thoroughly genuine for jockey standards.  Nevertheless, I do hope to wear my jodhpurs when horseback riding (for fun not professionally) in the future, which is why everything else about my trousers is well-made, from the thick twill to the double stitched seams. 

A close up of the center back notch in the waistline

     Butterick’s jodhpur pattern is exhaustive and complicated, but very good if you can simultaneously nail the fit and pull off the look.  I think I have succeeded in styling them as being wearable and not as a costume, though.  It helps in this end to take time to be precise and patient for a finely finished look.  I took many breaks during construction and divided each technique into small steps.  Each detail to the jodhpurs was not hard to sew on its own terms this way, and easier to accomplish.  Overall, the pattern seems like a lot to tackle from the beginning.  However, it calls for nothing too incredibly hard to sew for the normal sewist who can execute plackets, work with interfacing, succeed at button holes, and accomplish some sharp corners.  I believe where there is a will, there will always be a way! 

     The “front-fall” closure of these jodhpurs strongly reminds me of Regency era breeches, WWII Naval uniform trousers, or these 1980s New York designer pants (which I made, posted here).  Having had experience in seeing how various “front-fall” trousers work across the eras, and having worked with patterning all three versions mentioned, I felt quite comfortable with this part to the construction of these jodhpurs.  For someone else who is not used to the closure of these jodhpurs, my best recommendation is to trust in following the instructions and research the details of extant inter-war examples, whether in person or via online.  I find it curious that this closure method is very much geared to the needs of men, yet continued relatively unchanged into women’s jodhpur versions…making these trousers generally unisex at first glance.  The main difference in jodhpurs is in the proportions, I suspect (as can be verified with Butterick’s maculine version, no. 6340).  Front fall trousers offer a secure and strong closure which can withstand vigorous athletic activities, making such a construction a great benefit to the design even if carries strong menswear vibes on the women’s versions of jodhpurs.

     I chose the long ankle length version of the pattern at first thought only to maximize my possibilities.  Leading up to this project, I adored every 1920s and 30s era fashion ad or old photograph which showed women in long jodhpurs, so – in search of concrete direction – the need to follow my inspiration was strong.  Nevertheless, with ankle length trousers I am not confined to wearing tall boots or tall socks (as would be the case with the knee breeches) and the proper qualities of jodhpurs are adhered to faithfully.  If you wish to sew this version as well, it is important to check the length of the pants before finishing the placket.  The method shown for hemming makes this step permanent (due to clipping of corners).  I found out my pants needed to be shorter than the given hem allowance and therefore the button spacing required repositioning. 

    Perhaps my favorite facet to my jodhpurs are the pockets.  Built into the fall front closing, there are two deep side seam pockets, a common feature for breeches.  Then, two small coin pockets sit along the waistband, a traditional feature for jodhpurs.  The side seam pockets are ingeniously placed, it’s like hiding two small purses under the bagginess of the jodhpur’s thighs.  These pockets are such a generous size and keep anything in them from falling out due to the button closures.  I appreciate this fact after remembering a past episode of horseback riding as a teenager with my dad.  He kept his wallet in a pocket that was not buttoned closed and realized at the end of the trail that he lost his wallet somewhere in the wilderness! 

The coin pockets are not as handy, but were so incredibly tricky to sew.  The fact that I was able to so cleanly achieve perfect coin pockets compels me to love them.  Once you have sewn them you will know why they are rarely seen in ready-to-wear!  They are useful for small notes, my lipstick, a tissue, and (of course) small coins when I don’t want to undo a button to access my big pockets. 

      There are still some additional details to my outfit worth mentioning.  I am proud of the fact that all my buttons are sustainably carved from coconut shells.  My sweater is a 1930s reproduction item from the brand “Astro Bettie” by Star Struck Clothing.  My wingtip leather shoes by “BORN” Company are yet another menswear reference.  My tall laced boots are an unidentified brand that I bought on deep discount through ModCloth over a decade ago, but now that American Duchess shoe company offers the “Bessie” aviatrix boots, I will be saving up for an upgraded replacement in the future.  As was alluded to earlier on my post, the snowy backdrop in my pictures is the backyard of our mountain bungalow in Colorado at our spring break trip back in 2024.

     At first wearing, I had a few gripes about the way they looked on me as I move, only because I wasn’t sure if the way the jodhpurs crease along my booty from behind was due to an ill fit.  Then, I saw Bette Davis wearing jodhpurs in the 1951 film drama Another Man’s Poison and subsequently watched Ginger Rogers in the 1935 movie Top Hat only to realize that mine hang, crease, move, and overall fit the same way.  I must have nailed the sizing after all!  Apparently I just need to focus on getting used to enjoying these odd shaped trousers the way they are.

     These bottoms were originally designed merely to offer a fashionable appearance in conjunction with comfort, ease of movement, and safety in and out of the saddle during a lively polo match.  I love to see how expert pattern drafting was able to fulfill such a specific demand.  Jodhpurs have since evolved to answer so many other needs for such a wide berth of people.  I find it sad that such intentional ingenuity put into jodhpurs for their creation has now been dramatically reduced to utter simplicity by the acceptance of stretch leggings into the modern uniform of equestrian sports.  To each their own style, though!  Nevertheless, I like the idea of having a recognizable item of fashion to visually designate athletic activity is taking place…without needing to lose out on an ounce of killer design details or comfort.  Vintage jodhpurs are just that.  I have already boldly worn my handmade versions to casual activities around town because I both enjoy wearing them and feel good in them, but also to be a source of fashionable inspiration for others.  Acquire your own jodhpurs and you too may just find your life feeling a little more exciting and adventurous when you wear them!

Sakura Wrap Dress

     It’s cherry blossom time!  One of the main beauties of springtime is definitely the sakura season, when the ornamental cherry trees flower.  Although I have only experienced this event through a local Japanese garden, the sweetness in the air near a blooming tree is an intoxicating natural wonder. 

Never one to miss a theme, I brought along my own botanicals for the occasion with a dress which depicts scattered cherry tree flowers, falling gently (like they do) as if a springtime snowfall.  I found myself perfectly dressed for the Japanese Festival we were attending even though I only decided on sewing my outfit the afternoon beforehand.  How can a dress, which was so easy to make, also be so good-looking at the same time?  It is yet another economical and fashionably creative 1940s WWII era pattern, so of course it is going to be amazing!

     In Japanese, “sakura” (桜) refers to cherry blossoms (both the trees and their flowers).  The custom of flower viewing is such a vital part of Japan’s culture it has its own word, “hanami” (花見).  I have a fascination for researching the culture, fashion, and aesthetics of Japan, beginning with my origami neck blouse (shared in 2019), then seen with my first and then second Kenzō Takada creation, followed by my recent ethnic brocade dress.  Thus, interpreting Japan’s cherry blossom season into a garment felt like a very natural progression.  From far away, the print may not specifically seem to depict blossoms yet my dress is a great sneaky floral and a new favorite among my vintage era dresses.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a printed 100% cotton

PATTERN:  Simplicity #1325 pattern, a year 1944 original from my collection

NOTIONS NEEDED:  Lots of thread, a bit of interfacing, and some hem binding

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This dress was made in only 5 hours in 2023

THE INSIDES:  All raw edges are cleanly finished with rows of tight zig-zag stitching, with vintage rayon binding along the hem.

TOTAL COST:  The fabric was bought over a decade ago from the long defunct Hancock Fabrics for about $15.  The rayon hem binding roll was bought at a rummage sale for only $1. 

     This simple dress has a lot packed into it.  First off, choosing a wrap dress was my very subtle nod to the wrapped garments so popular in Japanese traditions.  This way it has Japanese references in my mind without wearing full ethnic wear.  Then, the fabric’s print having both black (in background) and pink (from the floral print) becomes symbolical for the way both life and death are intertwined with the beauty of the falling cherry blossoms.  The blooms themselves stand for the transiency of life, but they are nevertheless synonymous symbols for the rebirth associated with spring.  Apart from any symbolism, the colors on my dress are my new favorite mix.  Many times a black dress can be too formal, too punk, or just intense.  On the flip side, an all pink dress is often very feminine, fussy, or sweet.  This dress is the perfect ‘in between’ both black and pink for times I want to ride the feelings that both colors project when standing on their own.  My last minute decision to sew this dress was apparently a good choice!

     For coming from 1944, this is oh-so-wearable for today.  The design itself is straightforward with just right amount of details and flattering design lines.  My fabric’s black background, combined with the busy print, hides soft shoulder gathers and a paneled skirt.  The pattern’s envelope sums it up as “a bodice fashioned with a front and back surplice and the wrap-around skirt is finished with a side-front button closing.”  The envelope curiously calls this a “sun dress”.  I wonder if it has to do with the deep V back and neckline and short sleeves, allowing a woman of the 40s to get a tan in a decent dress without wearing a bathing suit.  Whatever the reason, it is a great summer dress that shows the pure variety of styles that were offered in a time of extreme rationing.

     There were a few small things I changed to the pattern.  In reality, I was just simplifying the design due to my time crunch, fitting demands, and wish to have this dress be a versatile piece.  I eliminated the inset belt and joined the bodice to the skirt without it.  When a design has a self-belt, such an adjustment is great because it easily turns a pattern into petite friendly (which I needed).  The cotton was too stiff to properly blouse out above an attached belt the way sewing with a soft fabric would do (as was the case for this other 1944 dress, posted here) so my alteration was a calculated move.  This shortened the dress to a “street length” I love.  The dress turned out a bit too big for me but I ran with it so as to turn my version into having a deeper wrap front.  This bigger fit left the open neckline a bit sloppy so I merely safety pinned the surplice neckline closed tighter for a smaller V-neck.  I didn’t want to bother with buttoning the wrap front closed so I made two short straps from the leftover scraps and merely tie the wrap closed.  The fit is now flexible so I always have assurance it will fit me no matter what.  With all my alterations, this dress can now be enjoyed for many years to come without needing complex adjustments to do so, becoming a true wardrobe workhorse.   

     A great source of pride is my ability to scrimp on the amount of fabric which sewing pattern charts show is needed.  This time, my decrease of total fabric was extreme.  I used a 1 ¾ yard cut (at 45” width) to cut out my dress when its pattern called for 3 yards!  My working with under two yards felt proper to the WWII era of my pattern, and worked just fine.  I only shortened the skirt length but made no change in the proper grainline for the pieces.  The dress pattern would have been a comfortable layout on just over two yards, so 3 yards seems a very generous yardage that surprises me.  I remember we had to drive a ways out of town to buy this cherry blossom fabric from a store which was not sold out, so finding 1 ¾ was a lucky find as it was.  Sometimes the ideal fabric find comes in a less than ideal amount, but I always find a way to make my ideas work out in the end.   

Here’s a close up of my vintage hair sticks and the print of my dress!

     If you ever see this dress’ pattern for sale, I heartily recommend picking it up for your own enjoyment!  It may look simple but there is a lot more that could be done with it than meets the eye.  A border print or a kimono material would be fun fabric options.  Color blocking the surplice front and skirt panels with solid toned remnants may even work.  The hem or front neckline could have a ruffle added, or dropped sleeves could be sewn on in quarter or wrist lengths.  Taking the pattern one step further, only the skirt portion of the dress could be made to have an easy-on separate piece which could be worn with a blouse and match with the given bolero design.  This pattern would make a great nightgown or summer weight robe, too.  There are more thoughts than time on my hands when it comes to this particular pattern, but I hope you can enact some of my ideas for this pattern.  If so, come back here and let me know (pretty please) so I can live vicariously through your creativity.

This is the idyllic setting of the blooming cherry trees at our local Japanese Garden.

     This dress simple frock has the honor of commemorating one of the natural world’s showiest marvels, more so than many of my other floral print dresses.  Cherry blossom season makes me realize spring has really come.  Cherry blossom time is especially one of the many beautiful traditions linked to Japanese culture that the world recognizes and enjoys.  I hope this post encourages you to get out and enjoy nature’s beauty around you, and perhaps even finding some blooming cherry trees near you.  Ornamental cherry trees do not provide any fruit for their budding.  Yet, they give us some of the best beauty nature can produce, and appreciating such wonders in any way will add so much ethereal enrichment to life!

The Lucky Brocade Dress

     Some garments that I make seem to impart a special higher-than-normal level of joy.  This post’s dress is one such item that seems to carry its own “good luck” due to both the cultural significance behind its colors and the great moments for which it has been worn.  This dress is currently my newest favorite vintage creation, especially since it comes from my ‘most sewn’ decade of the 1940s!   

     All my other special occasion pieces have not seen see as much wear as this particular fancy dress has in the last few months…a good sign of a very successful project!  It has the lines of a de-luxe shirtdress with a fabric fit for a fancy event, which helps it to be great for more opportunities than just upscale occasions.  Pictures do not do this dress justice, yet I hope my post helps you understand how it has become quite a special addition to my wardrobe.

     We normally do not celebrate the anniversary of our engagement, but the milestone number we reached this year gave us a reason to treat ourselves to a quiet, stress-free fancy dinner out at one of our favorite restaurants.  Our engagement day is followed by yet another day to celebrate – St. Patrick’s Day on March 17.  I am half-Irish, so I never slack in observing St. Patrick’s Day.  I gear up for it about a week before in many ways, especially by wearing shades of green.  This year I found a way to wrap our celebrations into one fabulous me-made party gown.  Originally, I made my dress for a party held this past Christmas (as was mentioned in this post).  Yet, it has been more than fitting for several elegant occasions these past few months, such as our engagement anniversary.  It is the most vibrant, complex, and fancy way to express where I am at the moment.  I love a good reason to get dressed up in my best me-made items, and this dress is a particularly wearable example. 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a 15% silk and 85% rayon blend Japanese brocade, bought from this Etsy shop

PATTERN:  Advance #5461 from the year 1949, an original from my personal collection

NOTIONS NEEDED:  I used 100% Pima cotton sateen thread, a gift from winning a past year’s “Designin’ December” (sewing challenge), for the seams of this dress and some vintage cotton bias binding from on hand to finish some of the inner edges.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  My dress was made in 15 hours and finished in December 2024.

Here you can see the invisible zipper in the side seam, the bright contrast color of the fabric’s underside, and the soft pleated bust ‘darts’.

THE INSIDES:  I interspersed both bias binding and tight rows of zig-zag stitching to cleanly finish the raw edges in a way that stops the brocade from fraying.

TOTAL COST:  All of the notions needed are counted as free.  Buying five meters of material was my only cost, and this came to a total of $50.

     This Japanese fabric, being a specialty heritage weave in a fine silk blend, was only 29 inches in width.  As alarming as this might seem, our local art museum recently had an exhibit on Japanese textiles which gave me new insight.  Artifacts on display included an 18^th century festival robe, which had been constructed in a way to show the piecing along the fabric’s selvedge edges.  The brocade on that historic robe had a width that put to shame my awestruck perception of the skinny width to my own modern Japanese brocade.  That old robe’s material was about 12 inches in width, selvedge to selvedge!  The number 12 is relevant in all major cultures, and Japan follows along with its own traditions. Their culture’s base unit of length is the shaku, which has evolved to be approximately the size of a foot in the customary system (11.93”), something I can relate to as an American.  

Notice how the back bodice is bloused out above the waist…another feature I love!

     This knowledge does not fully explain why my brocade is 29 inch in width, but I am supposing that the small selvedge has to do with the brocade loom which was used.  The greater lesson learned here is that skinny selvedges are endemic to Japanese heritage textiles.  I also learned that small selvedges do not hinder the creation of impressive designs, but that angular, block shaped patterning can be a useful work-around.  Luckily, the historic Japanese brocade as well as my modern version, both have their decorative weave extend all the way to the very end of the selvedges so every bit of the fabric is useful.  I literally laid up the edges of my pattern pieces along the selvedge to assemble my dress in a way that mimics the historic robe.  This ‘hack’ makes for seams that do not fray, too!  I loved being able to incorporate ethnic traditions into the planning, construction, and layout of a dress.  Even if the design is not at all cultural, I can use an ethnic material in a way which helps me appreciate the craft and traditions behind such a beautiful fabric.  

     Skinny selvedge measurements are not entirely foreign to me after working with the tiny widths of vintage fabrics from the 1950s and earlier.  Nevertheless, the pattern, even though it was from 1949, had not given an allowance on its chart for anything so small.  A few extra yards were ordered to be on the safe side.  I ended up with just barely enough material to make my chosen design accommodate to the fabric on hand.  It’s a good thing the pattern’s pieces were rather squared off in general shape and just wide enough to fit on the fabric.  This happenstance made me happy to see such a seemingly perfect pattern-to-fabric pairing.  The pointed “flying” collar, deep knife pleats, ‘kimono’ style sleeves, and asymmetric front bodice reminded me of Japanese design at first sight.  And after working with the designer Kenzō Takada’s patterns in 2024 (project one was shared here and project two posted here), I do have modern Japanese fashion on my mind!

     This pattern has been in my collection for a number of years and I have been itching to sew something of it since coming to me.  However in my experience, Advance patterns are some of trickiest to fit.  In certain eras, for certain brands, I have learned to know what sizing and proportions to expect from vintage patterns, so I can estimate what fit I should end up with.  The many Advance patterns I have used so far from several decades have seemed to run small, with the bodice more generous in sizing than the waist or hips.  They have also had wonky shoulder-to-waist lengths, too, with some being longer in the bodice than others.  Even with this level of uncertain fit, Advance patterns always have such class that they make their challenges worth tolerating.  Once you’ve used them, Advance offerings will seem to be a par above the peer companies of their times (they existed from the 1930s to 1960s).  This pattern definitely proves that Advance designs have great style.  It’s becoming more of a challenge to find a design at this point (after sewing more than 600 projects since starting my blog) which offers me new techniques to try and details to perfect.  This dress gave me just that.

     I took many measurements of the pattern before cutting to make sure I knew what traits (if any) would need correcting.  I didn’t want to take a gamble with my precious fabric.  My pattern was a size too small for me according to the chart on the envelope back.  However, the bodice width fit me perfectly, but needed to be shortened slightly to fit my petite frame.  The waist needed a bit of room added, but yet the hipline ran very small, enough to need a significant extra allowance just to fit.  I was thrilled at how easy this dress was to sew and my confidence in the construction process was high when everything was checked and double checked ahead of time.  I only have the time and energy to do this verification for special projects.  When I do, it feels fantastic to be so accurate from the beginning.  Such a project being this fancy makes success even sweeter!   

     My adaptation to the design was adding in an extra vertical seam down the front skirt.  The skirt front panels were drafted far too wide for a 29 inch selvedge width.  Yet, inserting a seam within the inner folds of the pleats keeps my adaptation both completely disguised and appropriate in design.  Doing this step also miraculously made the skirt panels fit exactly within the 29 inch wide selvedge! 

Adding a seam to the pleat actually ends up helping the inner fold of the pleat hold a sharp crease.  The fabric is luxuriously soft and does not crease very well, as is evident on the outer fold of the pleat.  I could not iron this fabric on a high heat to set the fold better, and even pressing the warm fold with a board of wood while it cools (a tailor’s trick for a soft set) did not help the fabric keep a sharper edge.  A supple fold on the outside of the pleat helps the skirt appear fuller and more romantic, softening in appearance the angled edges of the collar details.  Please notice that the skirt’s knife pleats are folded in a direction I rarely see.  This 1934 dress (posted here back in 2020) had skirt pleats folded in a similar manner, yet this brocade dress leaves the pleats free and not stitched down to a dramatic effect.  Two thirds of the entire 5 yards went towards the skirt alone.

     My sleeves were simplified in order for the dress’ amazing collar design to standout in a way it deserved.  The pattern called for wing-like pointed cuffs along the sleeve hem to mimic the collar.  My brocade already adds busyness to the dress’ appearance, and I didn’t want fussy sleeve cuffs to distract.  Also, I was short on fabric to use for the cuffs!  I simply cut a basic rectangular band to extend and decoratively finish off the sleeves.

     This collar was such a curious oddity to sew, but looks so fantastic once created.  The brocade was soft to sew with for the rest of the dress, but it stepped up and showed significant structure when it came to helping the collar shape together.  I did interface the entire front facing for further structure, yet the interesting design lines seem to be enough to help the brocade turn into what it needed to be for this dress.  When laid flat, the collar weirdly overlaps the point where it meets the back neckline. But when worn, it opens up into a new shape and looks even better than the envelope drawing shows.  Vintage pattern designs never cease to amaze and inspire me.  I believe sewing can really bring out some of the best ingenuity of the mind.  Several seams both end and intersect at one point.  It took precise seam matching and clipping of corners for this to work out as well as it did. 

     The fabric was such a dream to work with.  I know my post already has a generous sprinkling of words of praise for the brocade.  Yet, it needs to be said that there is a night and day difference to sew with a silk brocade versus any polyester brocade.  I might never go back!  This is a not full silk but the amazing qualities of the fabric, lovely restrained shine, ease of use, and the way it actually is wrinkle-free after machine washing all has me very impressed.  The fabric took so well to my sateen cotton thread that I was able to top-stich all edges my machine.  The machine stitching was naturally absorbed into the luxurious fabric and this quality alone saved me hours of handiwork.  I have learned yet again that a high quality fabric really does make a world of difference.  When my two favorite materials (rayon and silk) are combined into one fabric, I was sure that this would be a good fabric.  Even still, it blew away my high expectations.  Avoid the siren call of poly brocades.  Please treat yourself to a silk or rayon brocade for one of your own sewing projects and thank me later.

     As this is a Japanese brocade which has the colors of Ireland, looking through either national lens that shows my dress is definitely lucky to wear for the best events in life.  In Japanese culture, there are many words for colors, even changing according to the decade of the last century.    Color names are often tied to nature (due to natural dyes) or seasons in Japan.  Nevertheless, both sources continue the association of growth, youth, vitality and energy to the color green.  Orange, in a country named “Land of the Rising Sun”, is associated with the sun, happiness, and knowledge.  In Ireland, the country called “The Emerald Isle”, green symbolizes their verdant landscape, a source of national pride.  Green is the color of the shamrock, an emblem associated with St. Patrick.  Orange, as used on the Irish flag, symbolizes the Protestant minority, but it further stands for the warmer sunny climate of the Southern part of the island.  My own relatives as well as my husband’s both come from Southern Ireland!  All around, this dress has everything going for it.  

     The 1940s decade consistently wins over my heart, no matter how I dabble in other decades of the past.  1949 in particular has such elegant and interesting designs.  They are such a change from where the fashions of the era started and yet such styles as this one are so wearable today!  Did you know that 1949 actually has the honor of being the very first vintage dress I not only made but also posted on my blog back in 2012 (shared here)?  This is yet another of the many reasons my brocade dress was ‘lucky’ from the outset.  I may have been taking a hiatus from sharing my 40’s sewing but get ready for more coming soon.