“Jacquette” Blouse of the mid-1920s

     I love finding niche, unique, short-lived styles of the past!  They help show a definitive landmark moment in fashion history and present some of the most interesting, experimental designs. They whisper subtle messages of the workings to societal influences and creative inspirations to their times.

     It is no wonder that this post’s garment is a unique style, since it comes from a year that was working on presenting novel ideas.  In 1925, the International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts was inaugurated in Paris, France, yet in the few years leading up to it, fashion already had begun evolving with the inventiveness of the times.  My post’s “Jacquette” top of circa 1924 is a wonderful example of the fluid, artistic, avant-garde clothing that reflected the modern mentality leading up to the mid-1920s.  Is casual or fancy?  Is it a jacket or a blouse?  It’s both, wrapping me in comfortable elegance of a style that can be worn today just as well as it would have been back in 1924.

     The “Jacquette” was the perfect thing to sew in time for viewing a local display on the very subject of innovations across art and industry surrounding the 1925 Paris Exhibition.  “Roaring” is an exhibition that will be at the St. Louis Art Museum until the end of July 2025.  I wore this circa 1924 Jacquette to opening weekend with my modern Burda Style mock-wrap skirt (highlighted in its own post here), American Duchess Brand heels, and a vintage beaded handbag, as you see.  A Jacquette is something which has been in my sewing queue for years now, and was so fulfilling to not only finally sew this but also wear it to the perfect ‘on-theme’ event.  The “Roaring” exhibition is jam-packed with information related to its stunning extant items which are presented, and I can wholeheartedly say that a trip to come view it will not leave you disappointed.  I am so happy to have special events such as this to wear the vintage items I enjoy creating…without needing to leave town!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a pure silk vintage sari from India

PATTERN:  “Standard Designer” pattern #7086, circa 1924, reprinted through Past Patterns Company

NOTIONS:  I needed nothing but thread, and chose to use an all-cotton Pima thread to match with the natural origins of the silk fabric.  To keep my Jacquette soft, I did not add interfacing or any stabilizer at all to the collar or facings.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This blouse was easy enough for being an old pattern with very limited instructions.  It was made in about 25 hours and was finished in early April 2025.

THE INSIDES:  The blouse is lined in more of the same fabric used for the exterior (double layered) and all other parts are faced.  Thus, all seams are cleanly and invisibly hidden!

TOTAL COST:  This sari was ordered 5 years ago from an Ebay seller direct from India for only $25.  My Pima cotton thread was bought at Hobby Lobby for about $8.

    I have been spotting these jacket-like blouses via old advertisements and catalog images and they look so cute and appealing.  Having a front closing top that that was loosely fastened like the Jacquette was very novel and could have been something shocking to some people.  The early 1920s still had many of the discreetly modest closures (back buttons, hidden hook-and-eyes, sneaky plackets) as a carryover from the decade before.  To pattern a blouse after the wrapped styles of the coats and sweaters, must have been an adventurous move for French fashion to advocate at that time.  These Jacquette tops can primarily be spotted between 1923 and 1925.  Past Pattern’s detailed information says they estimate the date of the “Standard Designer” pattern #7086 to be June or July 1923, yet their header lists it as being 1924.  As I am personally aiming for sewing a look which veers closer to the Paris Exposition’s date and since my skirt hem is a bit shorter than the below calf-length hems of 1923, my outfit is a 1924 or 1925 interpretation in my mind.

Look at how the floral vine stripes meet along the sleeve/shoulder seam!

     By paying attention to the detailed summaries in the catalogs, I could track the recurrence of fabrics used, customary ornamentation, and styling trends.  These jacket-blouses seem to call for softly draping fabrics, whether that be silk for summer or a knit for winter, as unstructured silhouettes were becoming a global style.  They often employed interesting material options such as border prints or decorated hem ends (via embroidery, beading, etc.).  I have a long obsession with loving to find creative uses of border prints and this was an opportunity too good to ignore.  Finally…a distinct mission with which to make a decorative border style from the past!  A double border silk sari from my stash was calling to be paired with my 1920s project.  It makes this top unique, elegant, and a very personal.  We have family friends which came from India and I have been sewing vintage inspired ethnic clothing over the years on my blog.

Here’s the pallu end “scarf”.

     I began with employing a smaller-than-normal length elegant silk sari.  It is a wonderfully soft washed silk with dull finish satin shine and a border that seemed to measure up well for the Jacquette design pattern proportions.  Many of the fanciest sarees are shorter in length than cotton or plain ones, thus this one was expected to be undersized.  However, I had not previously found one shorter than 5 or 6 yards.  This one was 4 yards without the decorative pallu end, which was an extra ¾ yard to the overall length.  The pallu, one end of a sari which is worn draped over the shoulder and showcases the maker’s artistry, was here an ornate perfectly quadrangular design. (Pallu ends are not always square).  The pallu was cut off and the edges were finished to turn it into a scarf.  What was left, went towards the rest of the top.  I literally had just enough to work with when every cut line was butted up against the next cut line. 

     There were two different border designs along the finished selvedge edges, with the hem having the wider one.  The smaller border along the opposite edge was used for the collar, and hip bands, and the closure ties.  The broader border along the saree’s hem went towards my Jacquette’s wide, dramatic sleeves.  This portion of the sari was finished in a chambray-weight cotton backing, a common practice on sarees to help protect them from the wear and tear of dirt and foot traffic.  The cotton backing has the sleeves be nicely, lightly weighted and cleanly finished at the same time.  I love two-for-one planning in sewing projects!  The border was wide enough to fill up the entire sleeve pattern, a piece that (in width alone) alone took up 2/3 yard out of the 4 yards I had to work with.  The strong jacket reference would have been lost by choosing short sleeves, even if that look is something I want to try in the future with a sheer cotton.  I do delight in dramatic sleeves as well as any opportunity to use a wonderful border print!  These sleeves bring me joy. 

     The assembly instructions were as basic as a modern Burda Style offering…basically just a textual explanation on how to construct a Jacquette of nine odd shaped pattern pieces.  However, never judge a pattern by its cover.  As with Burda Style, I have learned that the simplicity of presentation does not reflect on the quality of the product when it comes to sewing patterns.  This pattern came together beautifully – all notches matched, the fit was as expected, and it was sized properly.  The Standard Designer Company was begun in 1887 by a former employee of the Butterick Pattern Company.  (Info from here.)  Standard Designer Patterns were sold through high-end department stores who touted the accurate fit and superior design of their home sewing offerings.  Ultimately, Butterick acquired the Standard Designer Company in 1900, even though they remained an independent entity until being absorbed circa 1926.  Past Patterns reproduced a gem here.  I highly recommend trying it out for yourself so you can not only enjoy a Jacquette too but also see how nice a Standard Designer pattern can be.

     I spoke in this post about making a modern mock wrap dress inspired by mid-1920s fashions such as this Jacquette.  Yet, here I can finally present my sewing of the real thing!  Even still, this true vintage top is every bit just as modern and adaptable as that inspiration dress was trying to prove the 1920s can be.  Anyway, a luxurious silk creation such as this Jacquette deserves to be worn often and enjoyed outside of historical-themed events!  I found it seems to work quite well paired with my modern clothing.  To continue the cultural reference behind my fabric, I am wearing it with my Indian blue silk trousers, cut slim so they can be worn under a kurti ( short tunic) or with a sari.  A knit top is underneath and my favorite hiking boots keep my outfit casual and comfortable.  I like the parallel a modern pairing provides.  This alternate styling shows how the most unique design ideas, the avant-garde creations of the past, were really fashion-forward enough to be timeless in their own way. 

     A 1924 Sears & Roebuck Company Catalog (reprinted by Dover publications) calls the Jacquette an “entirely different and ultra-fashionable” thing to wear.  Another Summer of 1924 Sears ad (see it here on Reddit) claims their jacket blouses are New York reproductions of the latest Parisian designs.  Well, there you go!  Wrap blouses are something we do not bat an eye at today, and it is fun to look back and see the way they were perceived in the past…when they were a novel thing to wear.  The ideas which arose out of the inventiveness surrounding the Paris Exhibition from a hundred years ago really is still relevant.  I was so happy to see how the extant example items shown in the “Roaring” exhibition in my town today only further proved to me that looking back to the 1920s can help us see a vision of hope, innovation, and beauty for the future ahead. 

“Wait’ll It’s Moonlight”

     I have recently been discovering how my hometown has important ties to the history of “Tin Pan Alley”.  This phrase refers to the songwriters and publishers behind popular American dance and ballad music which prevailed for the first few decades of the 20^th century.  I cannot think of a more definitive link to the loud and bold style of my glittering 1920s outfit than the crazy fun and lively energy of the music that grew in fame through Tin Pan Alley’s branch in St. Louis, Missouri.  I have a soundtrack going on in my head whenever I wear this fun dress, and it is some good old fashioned dance tunes to help me swish and swing!  Visit this page to hear for yourself the 1925 song by the influential Composer/Publisher Maceo Pinkard that my post’s title has been named after.  I’ll party the New Year in like it’s 100 years back!

     Starting in 1909, many black composers found unprecedented success through Tin Pan Alley.  They introduced novel musical forms to the genre of Tin Pan Alley, the first of which was ragtime, so called for its “ragged” syncopated style. Ragtime first took a defined form in the late 1800s in Midwestern saloons, dance halls, and houses of ill repute.  In 1899, Scott Joplin, a music teacher, pianist, and composer, soon began a nationwide craze for ragtime.  It was in 1899 that Joplin presented music retailer and publisher John Stark with the famous “Maple Leaf Rag” in Sedalia, Missouri.  My hometown has the only surviving Joplin residence!  His more than 50 published works include The Entertainer and The Cascades, inspired by the waterfalls of the St. Louis 1904 World’s Fair.  As Scott Joplin was popularizing ragtime, W. C. Handy was pumping up enthusiasm for the blues. Handy, a Black composer, and bandleader, was a professional musician. In 1914, his new Handy and Pace firm published his now famous “St. Louis Blues.”  Handy worked with Maceo Pinkard – the first black man to form his own publishing company – to have him as his songwriter.  There is a local banjo club that seeks to keep these Missouri Tin Pan Alley songs alive today.  

     It must be noted straight away that this post is specifically about my sequin “tabard” overdress – an iconic garment of the early 1920s that had open sides and was often beaded, flocked, or otherwise highly decorated for eveningwear.  The silvery gown worn underneath has its own post, which can be viewed here.  Tabards were sleeveless outer garment, about the width of the shoulders, hanging in panels and joined at the sides.  Tabards have been worn in some form or fashion all the way from the Middle Ages to the 1960s and are similar to monastic scapulars.  Tabards found a revival in the early 1920s with the era’s rekindled interest in historical and classical inspiration.     

     It is also important to note that the sequin fabric is something from the treasured sewing stash of my late paternal Grandmother.  I am slowly working on sewing projects from her collection of fabrics and notions.  Yet, the amount I have from her is much smaller than the personal stash I have acquired, so I wait for what feels like the perfect project to strike me before I dive into using her materials.  Yet, I have sewn this candy stripe 1940 blouse out of a scrap of her flannel (post here), made my son overalls with her corduroy (post here), and recently put together a blouse from a project she left unfinished (see post here).  I am overly selective but not paralyzed by creative possibilities, at the same time, when choosing from Grandma’s stash.  This striking fabric was too good to let sit in a box, especially when I had a fast and stress-free option to make something fun and different!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a sequin polyester chiffon with more poly chiffon (from on hand) used as an edge finish

PATTERN:  None!

NOTIONS NEEDED:  Noting but thread

TIME TO COMPLETE:  It took me a few hours to make and was originally completed for ringing in the New Year of 2022 (but that didn’t happen as we had nowhere to go)!

THE INSIDES:  Cleanly covered by strips of the poly chiffon which was used as a contrast

TOTAL COST:  The sequin fabric was no expense and free to me, but – coming from my Grandma – is priceless at the same time.  The cost for this is relative!

     For as fancy as this looks, it was an easy project.  In lieu of intricately embellishing a fabric, as many 1920s tabards are, I “cheated” and started with a fabric that had its finery already machine stitched on.  Grandma’s sequin fabric was a half yard cut of 60” long material.  It was the perfect combination of my shoulder width across in the ½ yard and then the length ended down at my lower calf.  All I had to do was snip a skinny oval into the center of the overall length of the material to create an opening for my head.  This step instantly turned it into a tabard.  I didn’t have to cut anything else other than just trimming the choppily cut sides to create an even rectangle.  I am so glad the sequined stripes ran from selvedge to selvedge because it gives this tabard the proper early 1920s columnar appearance of a garment that is lean, long, and rather shapeless. 

     Geometric equations were the basis for the harshest interpretations of the Art Deco architecture, and fashion – particularly French origin designs – followed suit.  The icy metallic silver combined with the translucent black makes for something that both reminds me of a tame version of an Erte sketch and the cold of a sharp winter’s night.  These very ideas also remind me of the feel I get from the phase “Tin Pan Alley” – I think of a jarring melody that is unexpected but still pleasing, made using simple instruments of base metals.  The first versions of sequins – as the ancient Egyptians made them – were small cuts of metal, after all.  King Tutankhamun’s tomb was discovered in 1922, which led to many early 1920s eveningwear pieces being embellished in the manner of the sequins of Egypt. 

     The sequin fabric is really quite heavy in weight but the sheer base layer keeps the overall effect from appearing overly severe.  I wanted to keep that airy freedom and swishy silhouette so I used a sheer chiffon to “frame” the tabard.  The chiffon did not add any weight and felt a natural part of the fancy fabric.  Happily, it was merely something I could use up from my stash!  The chiffon was leftover from making the necklace-like scarf which accessorized my 1926 dress (posted here).  I am beginning to realize I have a weak spot for dresses in sheer dark material.

     To keep my project from being a scapular (open at the sides) and more of a true tabard, I sewed the panels together for a length of about 7 inches between the waist and the hips.  It was sewn together along the vertical seam where the chiffon meets the sequin material.  The fact this is oversized rather hides the fact the front and back panels are connected, and I am glad of it.  However, for the pictures, did “ruin” the look I just bragged about by adding a long black bead necklace as a belt to provide some sort of waist emphasis.  I sometimes get self-conscious over wearing the most shapeless styles of the 1920s, especially since I am a person of shorter height, and a belt is my go-to accessory to remedy that…for better or worse! 

     As much as I love the way this project turned out, it is also something to get used to.  This kind of dress (well, over-dress technically) is the probably the closest I have come to an original flapper look.  Such fashion may look odd and different compared to all the cheap costume stereotypes to be found today, yet facts are said to stranger than fiction.  Old fashion plates tell a different story than what a modern understanding has of the 1920s.  1923 in particular had the longest hemlines of the decade (down to the ankle), as well as an almost complete lack of a waistline, and this is what I was specifically trying to channel with my interpretation.  It is freeing in its loose and shapeless fit, incredibly garish in its boldness of decoration, and perfect for dancing the night away…all factors of a flapper dress!  I can’t wait to try a modern pairing with this tabard by layering a black long sleeved mock neck top and my black pants underneath.  Clothing is whatever you make of it!

    My shoes may just be my favorite part of this outfit.  A good French heel, with the proper curve and flare, is hard to find.  There was a revival of this style of show in the 1980 decade – thank goodness, too, because 40 year old shoes are much more wearable (and affordable) than 100 year old ones!  The 1980s French heels I have on here also happily continue to be quite accurate for the flapper era with their pointed toe box and high vamp that covers the top of the foot.  I added on my true vintage 1920s jeweled shoe clips for even more finery and authenticity of appearance.  These shoe clips were one of my first vintage acquisitions and were bought so many years ago for only $5.00.  I don’t really like to wear them much as I am afraid a jewel will fall out or I will lose the set altogether, so realize this was a special project indeed for me to pull out the good accessories.   

     The moon was a frequent subject of fascination for many works of Tin Pan Alley’s repertoire, as if evidenced in the overview given in this blog post here at “Travalanche”.  The moon was equally as common of a theme for candid photography from the turn of the 20^th century to the 1930s with the popularity of lunar shaped paper backdrops.  I loved the opportunity to play upon such a classic vintage setting, and even added my star studded headband to further the nighttime idea.  The “Man in the Moon” might have lost some of his mystery once space exploration began, but – whatever we know about him – he keeps diligent watch over the night and reflects the sun for us to have light after hours.  This fact of nature has always been something that can come across as mysterious, romantic, foreboding, or peaceful depending on how a tune would spin it.  The pure variety of moon related lyrics is fascinating to realize!  “Waiting for the moonlight” is never taken as seriously as it is on New Year’s Eve, nevertheless.  Did you stay up to see in 2024?  What is your favorite moon related song?