“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. 

Thread Painted Pockets Dress

     Following up on my Mulan inspired historical set (posted previously), I’d like to post another yet sewing project that has Chinese influences in its details.  This time my dress is dated to a year I have never sewn from before.  Settle in for a post that focuses on the fashion of August 1925.

     To think that this dress is just shy of being 100 years old is mind blowing to me.  Yes, it is not today’s mode of fashion – but anything goes nowadays, too.  I think this dress is cute and comfy, fun yet flattering, and finely crafted enough to still be appealing today.  Your stereotypical glitzy flapper dress is often too costume-y and cliché, and not good for building a wearable 1920s wardrobe, anyways.  Being a Sears Roebuck & Co. catalog inspired design, my dress is the kind of clothing which would’ve actually worn by women of the greater populace, for doing very ordinary, everyday undertakings.  I do love commonplace dresses from the 20s…they have such wearable charm!  Now, such a style has become something for me to wear doing my ‘modern’ activities 100 years later.  Who’d have guessed 100 years ago that their fashion would continue to be enjoyed in such a way?! 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a sheer 100% cotton broadcloth for the dress and a poly chiffon for the tasseled pendant necklace

PATTERNS:  For the dress body, I mainly used a Butterick #1101, from October 1926 (I know the precise month/year only because of the comprehensive Butterick pattern dating charts provided here by “Witness2Fashion”. This pattern is from when Butterick started a new design style and numbering system so that is easy to track!)  Then, a year 2005 New Look pattern #6463 was my basis for the hem flounce.  Finally, Simplicity #7228, from the year 1946, was used as my embroidery template (picture shared further down in my post).

NOTIONS:  One pack of satin blanket binding went towards the pink contrast edges, while an assortment of ink colored Pima cotton satin finish embroidery thread went towards the pocket decoration. One upholstery tassel was bought, too.  Besides all this, all else I needed was lots of thread…this is a pop-over-the-head closure free dress – no zipper, hooks, or snaps needed.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The dress itself took me just 8 hours to make, the two pockets took me over 6 hours to embroider, and the tasseled pendant necklace took me another 2 hours for a total time of about 16 hours.  This project was created in June of 2020.

THE INSIDES:  left raw

TOTAL COST:  The cotton broadcloth was a few dollars per yard, so 2 ½ yards cost me about $16. Half a yard of the chiffon was about $5.  The satin bias binding and the embroidery thread cost me another $7 something, while the tassel and coin were another $6.  Everything was bought at my local JoAnn Fabric store almost 8 years ago and cost me a total of about $35.

     Even though I am counting this as a 1925 dress, my basis was an old original pattern in my stash dating to October 1926.  I used this same old pattern once before as my base for making this 1924 dress (posted here).  Yet again, with a few tweaks, I made my interpretation of the pattern to look just like a page from a catalog image that particularly peaked my fascination.  Once the extra details to my 1926 pattern are stripped away, I am left with a basic dress block that fits me perfectly.  It becomes a touchstone from which to craft other designs which represent the 3 years that comprise the mid-1920s. 

     My chosen inspiration came from a page out the Dover publications’ “Everyday Fashions of the Twenties: As Pictured in Sears and Other Catalogs” book.  Not content with the general time frame given in that book, my independent research led me to be able to pin my dress’ design down to August of 1925.  In that month and year, I found several advertisements, both for ready-to-wear clothes and for sewing patterns, which clearly point out the “latest frocks widen their hemlines”.  The Sears ad summary, in an effort to sell this dress to its thrifty consumers, promises that it unites the two “favored style influences of the season – the straight silhouette and the flare.”  Sears & Roebuck opened its first brick-and-mortar stores in 1925, and these were typically in lower-middle-class and working-class neighborhoods, away from the main downtown shopping district (as Wikipedia points out).  I’m impressed that the Company seemed to be quite abreast of the American fashion ‘trends’ for 1925. I’m guessing the company needed competitive offerings in order do well with their ‘new’ venture into in-person shopping (as they previously had offered items through mail-order only).  Sears was quite ambitious to offer this stylish dress in luxurious silk, while trying to do so at a working-class price point, as well!  Quality, price savings, and style have always been a handful to juggle for consumers and retailers…as well as those who sew!   

     In light of the fact that this is supposed to be an everyday fashion dress, I switched over to using a sheer cotton material instead of the silk satin the catalog’s dress was made of.  After all, my 1920s dresses do not see as much wearing as what I have made from other decades.  The cotton was a low price point choice which gave a very softly structured, easy-care dress.  Silk was much more commonplace in the 1920s but, even still, I felt that cotton suited a Sears brand design better.  My choice of cotton let this project have less of a failure risk, too.  However, my 1920s projects are not entirely forgotten in my wardrobe, and so this cotton is not overly plain or basic and still quite nice.  The sheer quality is so lovely – both for my comfort level and for its fashion appeal.  Sheer dresses were quite the ‘thing’ in the 1920s but were often relegated to evening wear.  A transparent cotton is really fun as it is so much more wearable, practical, and sturdy than a fine sheer fabric.  This is truly the ideal way to sport a black dress in warmer weather!   

     The 1925 Sears catalog page that inspired me points out some details to my dress’ design which I took note of in order to figure my own version.  The ad’s text says that “the upper part is smartly slender while the lower front has a graceful flared flounce.”  I traced out onto sheer medical paper a basic version of the 1926 pattern I was using (adding little set-in sleeves) and sewed my dress out of this.  Then, I opened up the neckline (a little too much, actually), cobbled in a collar, and finished the sleeve edges in the pink trim.  Next, I added the flounce to the front below my knee.  The flounce’s hem fell at several inches above the dress’ hem, just as the fashion illustration shows.  Everything fit me right, and was a copy of the catalog image, but still looked awkward and unflattering on me.  Once I calmed down and started strategically pinning and pulling at the dress, I realized the hem length was my only issue.

This dress has a great swish factor for moving my hips to some happy dancing!

     In 1927, hems were at their shortest yet, waists rose up to the hips, strong shoulders were emphasized and fashion was on its way to being more of what now is seen as the classic ‘look’ of the era.  In 1923, hem lengths of the decade were almost down to the ankle at times, and the waist was very low (past the hips).  However, 1924 to 1926 – as the awkward middle phase – had some proportions which often get overlooked in a general appreciation of the overall era’s styles.  There was often a subtle waist emphasis, a softened shoulder line, and a ‘somewhere-in-the-middle-of-the-calf’ (but still below the knee) hem lengths made many of the styles appear (to modern eyes) as frumpy or ungainly.  However, there is a great discrepancy in the 1920s between its ideal unrealistic illustrations, fashion standards of the time, and finding a way to compliment actual bodies.  Marrying these clashing points is the struggle which I love to conquer when it comes to making my 1920s creations, and the mid-20s present an especial challenge.  Remember, many fashion illustrations of the 1910s to 1930s frequently added in a whole extra head’s worth of height to the legs of their models, so they are not always viable to follow to the letter. 

     So how was I to find my proportional “sweet-spot” for this dress?  It used to be (80 plus years ago) that hemlines were measured – not from the waist, as we do today – but by how far they fell from the ground on the wearer.  Such a method for creating clothing is partially due to the rationing of material which occurred in the First World War (and was something that almost made a full comeback in the 1940s).  Nevertheless, I like it because this practice accounts properly for the overall height proportions of the wearer in one step without breaking it down by shoulder-to waist, waist-to-hip, and such.  A blog post of a 1925 fashion catalog (see it here) commented that hemlines of the year fell at 14 to 16 inches off the ground.  I am not a tall person, but barely over the petite range.  Thus, I chose the shorter choice of a 14 inch hem from the ground…with my heels on, of course!  This meant I needed to level out the dress hem with the hem of the flounce, even though it meant a departure from the catalog image.  It was frustrating to have to change my plans, but that one small alteration made all the difference.  I suddenly loved the dress on myself.  It looked cute and sporty and not frumpy.  The flounce seemed to fit with the dress better and not be some awkward addition. 

     If you look at old photographs of real people walking on city streets in the 1920s, they show a telling story that resonates better with me now after sewing this dress.  The ladies’ dresses are often much shorter than what fashion illustrations or catalog pages show…and now I know why!  It may have to do with the same issues I had while making this dress and the following realization I had from my struggles with the hemline level.  I am sorry if I seem overly technical over my dress, but I think my story shows how sometimes all it takes is an unidentifiable tweak to make a world of difference.  Learning the nuances of fitting is perhaps the hardest part of sewing, no matter what era you are sewing.

     With the main body sorted out, I could focus on the embellishment part of making my dress.  I love how it continues to manifest what was in vogue for 1925 with its decorative elements.  In a carry-over from the decade before, the early to mid-1920s continued being obsessed with adding embroidery on anything from dresses and coats to aprons, purses, or pillowcases.  That same niche of the 1920s also loved to play off of inspiration from anything which was deemed a “foreign” culture.  With “thread painting” for embellishment and a dragon coin pendant, both popular trends can be combined in this one 1925 dress of mine.  The Chinese influence on this dress has pushed me to try a new technique thus earned my great respect for the stunning thread art form of that culture.  Even with my paltry beginner’s attempt at working a high Chinese art form, I now have a new and unique 1920s dress that I am so happy to have and wear. 

     Now we can talk about the part of the dress that deserved to go into my title…the two embroidered patch pockets.  When I first looked into doing Chinese embroidery for my dress’ pockets, it was overwhelming and humbling to see such grand and large-scale works of art that this threadwork is used to create.  I was wholly intimidated and didn’t know how to start on a small scale or understand the basic schematics of the thread work.  I didn’t feel like committing to a book either, so I chose a vintage pattern that offered me everything I was looking to have.  Granted, the pattern is from the 1940s, but the practice of Chinese needle painting is a respected tradition unconfined by a date on an envelope.  Happily, the pattern still had its original inked wax transfers, all in groupings which would conveniently fit on my pockets.  The instructions were a great beginner’s guide, using both drawings and text to show me how to work.  I did need to photocopy the second flower transfer so I could flip the design to have a mirror image.  I didn’t want two of the same pocket designs!  In this case I merely stitched through the paper and pulled it away as I progressed. 

     Embroidering realistic, needle painted flowers is a tradition of the Sichuan Province, where we find “Shu embroidery”.  Also called “thread painting” or “silk shading”, it’s known for having layers upon layers of stitching in many shades of colored floss, which builds elaborate detailing and realistic images.  Typical designs include pandas, birds, flowers and landscapes.  My attempt was not overly ambitious.  It was a duo of about a 3 inch area.  It was still a beast of an undertaking for me and falls so short of what I aimed to imitate.  Even still, my embroidery did turn out much better than I what remotely hoped to achieve.  After more than 3 hours spent upon each pocket, I was only ready to just see the pockets on my dress.  I was too excited and exhausted to wait until I added more detailing.  I do hope one day to come back to this dress and add better Shu worthy shading with more layers of thread colors.  However, I do think the flowers look believable as-is and add a very pretty (mostly from a distance) touch to my dress – which makes my embroidery attempt a success in my book. 

     I’m so glad my stubborn but creative side drove me to care enough about the thread painting art to try to learn and appreciate the technique.  Most of all, however, I am glad that I took the time to slow down and further beautify a dress which already cost me more than enough hours.  I love the irony of how finishing details can take up so much time.  Every little handmade effort to beautify one’s wardrobe might not scream for attention but will always show a level of invested consideration of which fast fashion of today is sorely lacking.

     Just the same as what I did for my dress itself, I downgraded the thread I used for the pocket embroidery.  The threads that are traditionally used for Shu embroidery are a satin finish silk.  I had no confidence in my abilities early on and ultimately wanted a commonplace dress here, and so I used a cotton thread instead.  This is no plain thread, though – it is a satin finish high-quality Pima cotton.  It had such saturated colors and a silky smooth feel, I couldn’t resist choosing a multi-pack of this stuff…for ambitious projects in the future, of course.  Not that I am looking to take on a time consuming project, but I am excited to have a reason to improve upon the embroidery skills and ideas I discovered from doing Shu thread painting.

“Unlike in the West, Chinese embroidery has always been viewed as an art form as opposed to a craft.” Quote from Margaret Lee, a renowned practitioner and teacher of Chinese Embroidery.
She specializes in silk thread painting.

     The tasseled pendant necklace was the simplest part of this whole project.  I merely made a long tie the length of the selvedge width (60”) and pleated the ends.  My coin pendant was tucked in between the two tie ends and I stitched everything together by hand.  For the final touch, my tassel’s loop was slipped through the coin opening.  This is a whole different way to approach wearing a necklace and I love it!  I really want to try another version of a scarf necklace where there is a hook at the ends so that the pendants can be switched around and customized.  Every project I sew puts so many extra ideas into my head, I need to buy stock in free time.

     When wearing my older vintage styles – ones which border on being antique, such as the 1920s – I realize that we have so much freedom of self-expression today.  The year 1925 really only had one general kind of fashion.  Sure – there were slightly different ways to wear and style the fashion of the 20s a hundred years ago, but we have it good in this decade of the 20s.  I can appreciate the variety of styles that the last 100 years of fashion offer for inspiration and actually wear any or all of them!  I am grateful that vintage style dressing is now something which is more than accepted, but seen as a way to personalize one’s taste in clothing.  Through the ability to wear what we want, and reinterpret these old fashions, and there is a special enjoyment to be found in wearing the styles of the past…yes, even the 1920s!