Having a Monochromatic Summer

My go-to sundress of 2019 actually is a carryover of a favorite make from the end of last year’s summer. I had been putting my idea off for a few years because I was not sure it would work. It is so different from the rest of my summer wardrobe! It is not bright and bold, flowery or frilly, like most of my other sundresses but the color scheme and the effortless wearing ease of the style and its material cools me down in thought and body. I’m having a monochromatic summer moment in my favorite vintage 1940s style!

This is such a sneaky vintage dress – it certainly doesn’t strike me as coming from 1949! Although dating from the fabulous post-WWII era, the pattern is one of the more popular modern Vintage Vogue line of reprints. It has such simple lines, and such a body complimentary design that this is a great example of the classic timelessness for which I love to make and wear vintage fashion. Whatever the era the dress shows, it proves I am still not over my recent fascination with the late 40’s, apparently!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC: a cotton denim with a touch of spandex, lined in an interlock knit

PATTERN: Vintage Vogue #8974, year 1949

NOTIONS: I only needed basic, simple stuff – some interfacing, lots of thread, and a zipper. After it was finished, I also used an old bra…but more on that later!

TIME TO COMPLETE: This was finished on September 21, 2018, and took me about 10 hours to make.

THE INSIDES: All cleanly bias bound while the bodice is fully lined.

TOTAL COST: I vaguely remember picking this fabric out at the now defunct Hancock Fabrics years and years back. So, as it has been in my stash this long and well deserved to ‘break free’ of the fabric stash, I’m counting it as free!

It’s funny how things come full circle. It’s always so poignant when you realize that after the fact! You see, a year 1949 dress was actually the very first piece of vintage reproduction me-made (see it here from an old 2012 post). It was also in brown! Apparently, my go-to color is a pretty variation of dirt. The classic “little black dress” doesn’t get as far as a brown one. I personally love how brown tones work for so many seasons and are a good base for brighter colors and pastels without being as heavy as a navy or black, for example. To me, a good brown color is cool tone, very calming. Monochrome palettes (referring to a color scheme comprised of variations of one color) are themselves supposed to be soothing and create a good mood. Maybe the khaki, dark brown, rust, cream, and ivory tones in the subtle striping to my dress’ fabric was an instinctual choice for me to choose for yet another project on the verge of the 1950s.

Of course, the pattern showcases stripes to show off the grain line ingenuity and I followed along happily. I’m just trailing on the heels of my last striped sundress by posting this, anyway. My fabric’s striping is so small I did a general matching effort – nothing too meticulous because I was really pushing the limit anyway to make this work out of only 2 yards of material – and it turned out great. After all, this was a simple project to sew and I wanted it to stay as effortless to make as it is to wear. I think the mitered stripes do a lot for the slimming and trim appearance of this but it is so cute and attractive in any print, from what I’ve seen of all the awesome versions other seamstresses have made. It’s weird but this dress reminds me very much of my plaid 1940 sundress (posted a while back here) even though I know it is different and the styles are 9 years apart.

I have learned from years of summer sundress sewing that wearing them is so much more fun and easy if the lingerie situation doesn’t call for any extra thought. Thus I am a big fan of adding decent lining or even lingerie directly into the sundress to make it an-all-in-one garment that supports my “girls” in one easy step as I dress. I used a no-longer-worn bra from on hand – there are some whose clasps and straps bother me so I only keep them because the cups are still in good condition and fit. This was sewn directly into the dress at the proper place making this so comfy to wear, with all the good shaping I want yet not compromising on the breezy skin-baring qualities of my favorite sundresses.

I know the support should have been sewn in between the lining and the dress fabric to be ‘properly’ done, but I like the easy access of it if I ever want to adjust or change. Besides, my favorite part of having the bra visible to the interior of the dress is the linear symmetry it adds when it is laid out. Anyone who has followed me for a length of time should realize I am big into the mathematical perfection of sewing, and love to visibly play upon that with what I make. Besides, creative design lines, stripes (and plaids) offer great opportunities for such calculating. This dress gave me another taste that!

The sizing was pretty much spot on for this pattern, maybe even a tad on the roomy side along the top bodice edge, but I don’t mind. The dress also ran really long, and would have been to my ankles if I had cut according to the pattern. I left it a mid-calf (midi) length because I think it makes the dress look more elegant as well as hang well. A longer length is very circa 1949-ish, anyway! Finally, I raised the dip of the front neckline V so it wouldn’t be so revealing but that is the last of the tweaks I made. This was a pretty quick and satisfying make! I do want to come back to this pattern and make the killer cute cropped swing jacket that comes with the dress. It will definitely have to be a different fabric, though, as I have nothing but a few measly scraps leftover. So many projects on my mind and so many sewing decisions to make!

The earth monotones matched perfectly with my favorite comfort sandals from Hotter brand shoes as well as my “Cinnamon Spice” brownish undertone lipstick from the brand “Wet n’ Wild”. Too bad I don’t have more of a bronze glow on my skin to match, as well. A simple walk through our neighborhood was the casual backdrop to our pictures.

This is my 1940s installment in my “Indian Summer of the Sundress” post series which began with the making of this sundress when we had an extended time of unusual warmth. This just about wraps it up, unless I happen to crank out a 1970s sundress! I had to basically end it with my first sundress, the one that started it all anyway! Kind of like that other 1949 brown dress that started all my vintage sewing…

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Living with Coral

Personally, I don’t ever put much weight or mental thought into the chosen Pantone Color of the year.  I kind of think it is some sort of gimmick or ruse to ‘sell’ a certain dye lot, besides being rather silly, if you ask me.  Fashion chosen for the populace through those companies higher up who run the money and production is not an organic trend by the populace, no matter what advertising makes it out to be.  Anyway, never mind my conspiracy theory rant because I am weirdly head over heels for the 2019 Color of the Year choice…”Living Coral” (#16-1546).

It is described as “an animating and life-affirming coral hue with a golden undertone that energizes and enlivens with a softer edge.”  Subconsciously this color is not a new tone for me to sport, but the chosen Color of the Year has opened my eyes to see it is already in my wardrobe and has been part of my fabric choices more than I realized. (This can be clearly seen in this 20’s style dress, my 1954 qipao, ’57 striped sundress, my convertible 40’s pinafore, or even this 80’s style outfit.)  I do love a good bright color but this 2019 color is something with more pop than a pastel but not overly confident.  I feel a softened orange-borderline peach tone highlights my light olive skin.  So, Pantone’s “Living Coral” announcement only gives me a reason to bring out an old favorite color and find original and absolutely awesome way to wear it with my classic vintage panache – with this post’s dress as my first example.  Made with THE goldmine of rare fabric, this dress’ lovely true vintage rayon gabardine shows a unique and special way circa 1949 to incorporate “Living Coral” into more than just summer frocks (a default item made of the color).

The gloomy side of such a happy shade is the facts that the real world living creature of coral is dramatically dying in growing numbers.  I’m not meaning to be melodramatic here, but nature is the original, pure form of color in all its most breathtaking and inspirational sources.  Fashion is a major world polluter and this year’s color is sadly ironic if it is not also used as a source for awareness.  Man-made colors do not level up the bright and glorious shades of nature.  Just think of a Birds-of-Paradise, a butterfly, and a show stopping sunrise or sunset for only a few examples.  What good is it to have the shade of “Living Coral” paraded in paint cans, on garments, and stationary if the real living coral is becoming so bleached out it is now only drab and sickly?  I’ll step off my soapbox now, but as one who is staunchly emotional about sustainability and thoughtful fashion choices, I had to share my two cents.   Let’s turn this Color of the Year trend around to actually do good rather than just promote sales for once.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a rayon and cotton gabardine blend vintage original fabric.

PATTERN:  a New York brand sewing pattern #867, a “Louise Scott” design, circa 1949

NOTIONS:  I only needed thread, a little interfacing, and a zipper (I used a vintage metal one).  All items were on hand

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The dress was finished on November 15, 2018 after at least 25 hours put into it

THE INSIDES:  SO nice!  All French seams

TOTAL COST:  This dress cost only about $20…I got a great deal on the fabric!

What is so special about vintage gabardine?  I don’t really know why it is so rare, but I do know quality modern (as in no polyester) gabardine is hard enough to come by.  Yet I have found some primarily made of cotton over the years and it can be found in many of my sewing projects.  Gabardine fabric is defined as “a smooth, durable twill-woven cloth” and I love how it is durable yet soft and flowing at the same time with an interesting texture when you look closely.  It is one of my favorite fabrics but this vintage gabardine absolutely takes my breath away with its high caliber of excellence…why, it actually has a satin sheen and is not just a solid color!  It is so silky and wrinkle-free.  It was a dream to work with and is fantastic to wear and touch.  The underside is a smooth solid grey and the right side is a very detailed floral pattern with the twill weave showing through.

Looking at the inventory of vintage fabric sellers who can authentically date their products, I have been able to roughly date this material to the late 40’s or 1950s, one of the reasons I chose the pattern I did for it.  Also, American post war fashions did not need the 4-something yards that a Dior style dress would require and I didn’t have much more than 2 yards to work with!  Nevertheless, I did want to pair two lucky finds together – the pattern had been found for a steal of a price during our last trip to the fashion district of Kansas City, Missouri, and the fabric had been a lucky gamble for a reasonable deal bought to support a “Makerspace”.  What went into making this dress could be counted on a “Top 10 Best Finds Ever” list, if I had such a thing.

This dress might look simple at first glance, because it inherently is just that…which at the same time only shows off the smart, quality style of it.  It has details – they just aren’t flashy.  This is to me the lovely epitome of post-WWII New York fashion (and I don’t mean the pattern brand).  American late 40’s styles were so much more sleek, slimming, and subtle compared to the strongly padded, statement silhouettes of French fashion so often used to define this time.  Both had impeccable tailoring and lovely design lines, and I know (as and American) I am no doubt biased, yet to me it seems that there is a great art in being understated.  Dior styles overemphasize both hem width and the hips to create a tiny waist but many American late 40s fashions preferred slimming skirts, longer hems, simple design lines, and relied on details (such as pocket flaps, peplums, pleats, etc.) to softly visually widen the hips.  This latter I see as more universally flattering and working for more body forms versus the former.  I think I can personally work both sides of the post war profiles, but I appreciate the low key appeal and practicality of late 40’s state-side vintage while also enjoying creating it.

So – can we take few minutes here to let me detail the fine points that a camera doesn’t seem to capture very well?  Of course the double hip pleats on each side are the main event, even though you might have glanced over them.  They were drafted as part of the skirt side panels making for two very long and skinny cuts of fabric.  They stand in for a true peplum.  Post war 40s peplums, especially ’48 to ’51 were very low on the body line at and just below the hips much like the pleats on this posts dress.  I was afraid that the print would drown out the detail, so I made sure the hip pleats were not ironed down flat but kept their rolled edge appearance.

The sleeve cuffs mirror the hip pleats.  However the cuffs are slightly pointed under the arm in front of the elbow.  This little drafting point actually helps the cuffs stay folded up and keeps them from catching on things as compared to other cuffs on clothes I have which are straight cut in circumference.  That is smart engineering there!

The skirt is similarly fine-tuned.  I noticed it at the ‘cutting out’ stage when the sides of the center front panel had a concave bottom half, like a very gentle slope outward.  This way the center skirt panel flares out and rolls over the side panel seams from mid-thigh downward…just beautiful and unique.  Such a little difference in pattern shaping does so much!  Not only does this feature make walking elegant and easy-to-move in, but also it’s not every project that the finished garment actually turns out to pretty much have the same drape and qualities as the cover drawing.  Many drawn garment examples (both vintage and modern) only prove to be an idealized or a lame version of the actual draft on paper of a design, and it frustrates my detail-oriented brain to no end that the two don’t match up more often or not.  New York patterns sometimes do get a bad rap (from what I have read) for only offering a colorless sketch on their envelopes, but here, the drawing captured the exact small nuances of this style.  Needless to say, I am impressed.

Hopefully, this dress could fool a fashion historian or curator.  I wanted nice finishings to please myself, but also I felt the special fabric deserved to be made particularly well.  Hardly ever do I sew with true vintage fabric, so I wanted to only use notions and techniques which could be seen on a dress of the era which I was creating.  The only thing glaringly modern is the shoulder pads and maybe the thread I used, the second of which could only be ascertained by someone trained to know.  Otherwise, the French seams, the cotton interfacing, and the vintage metal side zipper do not date this dress as current.  The design certainly won’t!  The edges of the neckline and sleeve cuffs, the zipper, as well as the hem, were meticulously hand-picked for invisible stitching, adding to the subtle high detailing and because the wonderful fabric deserved it (saying it again).  These might also confuse anyone looking to date this garment.  All of this was something of an experiment, and the result brings just making another garment into something at a whole other level.  I actually get giddy just thinking about it.  Reliving the past isn’t old-fashioned or second-rate…it is really fun and a very nice treat.

After all my raving about how the dress turned out, what was not lovely about this was the sizing.  I have made New York patterns a few times now and they have consistently had small shoulders, long hems and very small hips and waist.  This dress’ pattern was the opposite fit.  Of course, the difference is they have been pre-mid 1940’s.  But it is surprising that just 5 or so years later could show such a marked difference.  I have nothing to back my theory up, but I wonder if the New York pattern company had new owners or at least new body standards after WWII.  I know the company did make it to the mid-50’s.  The dress had a very long waist (common for 1950’s dresses), very wide hips, and normal shoulders.  I had graded down to my body size but I had to take out in the waist and below what accounts to two sizes smaller still.  Any vintage pattern never ceases to hold a fitting surprise, I suppose.

Sadly, I have not been able to find out anything on the purported designer of this dress, Louise Scott.  I did find several other Louise Scott New York patterns (from 1950, some of which I passed up) along with this one, and any Internet search I have tried so far only shows New York pattern envelope covers.  Thus, I’m guessing she might have been an independent, small designer hired by this one brand of sewing patterns to get her fashion concepts out there and help their company, which was in its last years of business, step things up.  She might have just been their in house pattern drafter, too, even.  I don’t know, but it is distressing that for as many patterns as Louise Scott offered through New York Pattern Company we know nothing about her wonderfully classy and meticulous designs.

I wore 1950s accessories to emphasize the fact that it could even be a design from early in that decade, or make it an obvious late 40s style at least.  My Grandmothers vintage 1950s black glass jewelry set (bracelet and necklace) pairs with some older, some modern pieces – mid-1940s gloves, a 50’s velvet beaded head topper, me-made sterling earrings, and my decade-old favorite strappy dress heels in black satin.  I believe my handbag might be from the 1980s but it has that classic 50’s style.  Of course, I had to play up the “Living Coral” color in my dress by tying a vintage 40’s silk scarf to my purse.  It also doubled as very pretty neck scarf that day.

“Living Coral” is such a versatile and cheerful color, more adaptable than many might imagine, almost like it’s a neutral.  Here, it goes with a blue-undertone grey and the black with cream flecks are a complimentary muted contrast.  “Living Coral” tones were often paired with a ‘dove brown’ or ‘avocado green’ in the 1950s.  Of course, I think  bright royal blue pairs well with coral, too, after making my 20’’s style “The Artist” dress mentioned earlier.  Please, just don’t forget that the real living coral in our oceans need to stay just as bright and just as much in the limelight as 2019’s fashion color is!  If you have another interesting color you’ve paired coral with, do let me know because I’d love to try it!

Come Into My Web…

With the amount of vintage fashions that I make and wear, you’d think I’d have enjoyed Halloween in some wearable holiday-themed outfit from one of the popular decades of the 20th century – but no!  I always seem to do a fictional costume, or something historical, or just plain fun.  I haven’t ever done anything quite spooky ever, either.  In all, nothing is ever really a garment that I can include as part of my everyday vintage wardrobe.  All that has changed this year with a circa 1949 sultry femme-fatale outfit!  Using Gertie’s newest print, reproduced from a true vintage fabric, and scroll-work felt combined with raw buckram to make a curiously detailed hat, my ensemble is perfect for a jaunt out in the dark, rainy, and mysterious evenings of fall!

This is one of my very favorite, luxurious, and completely unique garment projects.  It was so fun to make a novelty outfit which is not just for an event but also for a season of the year.  The hat was super-easy make, and should work well for other outfits of any season, but truly compliments this set in a way far better than I had imagined.  However, if it wasn’t for the roses in the dress’ print, however, there is probably no way I would be even so much as trying anything with a spider theme.  The buggers creep me out!

The irony is that I added to what the webs were missing with my jeweled brooch – a vintage-style “Webster” pin ordered through “Nicoletta Carlone.com”.  He is not hair-raising, but rather cute (weird for me to say) and definitely glam.  After all – a web without a spider is a home without a tenant, right?!  All other accessories are true vintage items.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  Dress – 100% cotton sateen, “Kiss of the Spider Woman” 2018 print from Gertie with a sheer black chiffon for the neckline and a sweet pink broadcloth for the bodice lining; Hat – a felt placemat, buckram hat base crown, and black tulle netting

PATTERN:  Anne Adams #4696, circa early 1950s for the dress…self-drafted hat

NOTIONS:  I had all the black thread and bias tapes I needed, and the modern tiny ball buttons (not vintage) were already in my stash.  I only had to buy a zipper for the side seam waist closure!

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The dress took about 15 hours to make and the hat was made in an hour and a half.  Both were finished on October 26, 2018.

THE INSIDES:  a combo of French and bias bound seams

TOTAL COST:  About $35 was spent on the Gertie fabric alone, $5 on the chiffon, $2 on the zipper, and $8 for all the hat supplies (placemat from the arts and crafts store Michaels, and the buckram base from the Etsy shop “DanceCostumeSupply“).  $50 is my total.

This is my second time working with an Anne Adams vintage sewing pattern and what I found out from the first time rang true again.  Their designs seem to run quite small.  Just like before, my Anne Adams pattern was a size too large for me according to their chart, but it tuned out fitting me perfectly with 5/8 seams rather than the instructed ½ inch.  As unpredictable as vintage patterns are regarded by many to be, there are benchmarks to be found the more you sew with differing companies and various decades.  I’m not for certain that all Anne Adams will have their sizing off, but two times around is a pretty good confidence booster to know what I’m working with!  Size up with this brand, just in case.

Now, I did start with an early 50’s pattern, but I slightly adapted the design lines to make it more like a 1949 silhouette.  Post WWII fashion is remarkably similar between 1948 and 1952, minus slight differences.  All it basically took to change the date to this dress was eliminating the three paneled skirt front as designed and cutting out a slimmer, swinging, bias cut one instead.  The longer and leaner lines with a longer hem are trademarks of1949, whereas after 1950 there was more emphasis on a tiny waist and full hips (below the bust).  I was mostly copying off of an Aldens Department Store advertisement from 1949 (dated using the 60th anniversary emblem) by doing my adaptation, but nevertheless – the defined spider web print needed as few seams as possible anyway.  This pattern could certainly give what the fabric needed in my mind, which was minimal seam lines with no compromise on lovely shaping for a sultry air to the whimsical vintage print.  This dress sure delivered!

I can’t believe the neckline on this is original vintage.  The cheeky and bold taste that was around back then is much more alluring and lovely in my opinion than the modern baring-it-all fashion that leaves nothing to mystery.  The pieces for the bodice were so very basic, early on I was so doubtful that they would work out at all.  At the waist of the bodice, there are two sets of three stitched-down pleats in the front, and two small open pleats in the back but somehow they do their job turning odd shaped rectangles into something special.  There are small gathers at the shoulders too, though it’s not very noticeable in the sheer material…it just sort of helps to wrinkle up the front neckline a bit.

French seams are the strongest seam possible in such a lightweight and unsupportive fabric as chiffon, so that is what is holding the shoulders – and the body of the dress – together.  Fully lining the bodice not only gives body to the soft fashion fabric but also is a great way to cleanly finish the wide arching neckline where the sheer and the printed cotton meet – with no seam there, it lays nice and smooth.  A little sneak peek of pink that can sometimes be seen of the inside makes it so worth it, too.

The upper bodice from behind is, to me, a very slight call back to Victorian times, when the necklines were high, severe, and replete with a multitude of tiny buttons.  During Halloween, Victorian times seem to be what is stereotypically associated with haunted mansions and creepy, cackling women in frilly black dresses.  There are only 5 buttons here, but still – the difficulty it presents to dress yourself is a goth reference to decadence and stuffy society.  I hand sewed thread loops along the edge to catch the buttons.

I suppose now is a good a time as any to talk about what’s on my head, now that you can see the full details from the back of my hat!  Yes, as I mentioned above, I started with a placement to decorate a dining table, but in my defense it was thick, dense felt after all, too similar to hat material to ignore doing some Halloween shopping one night.  It was on clearance too!  I have always admired the wide hats of the mid to late 1940s which have decorative ‘windows’ or fancy cut outs in their big brims.  Such vintage hats I have seen are either too costly for my wallet or disappear too quickly to act on buying them.  So, as I do with most else in my wardrobe, I make my own version!

The place mat was slightly oval but so is the buckram crown (luckily on hand…I do keep a stock of hat bases “just in case”).  Luckily the crown was just enough to replace the skeleton head cut out of the center!  Before hand-stitching the place mat’s inner edges to the wired crown edges, I did add a double layer of tulle to the top (upper) side to stiffen it up.  The tulle adds a mesh look that compliments to raw buckram plus it makes to hat brim flat and not wavy along the edges like a 70’s slouch hat.  I merely hand tacked the tulle halfway through the felt all around the outer edges, kind of like a very tiny pad-stitching.  Most of the time, the tulle and the buckram base used for my hat are only foundation materials which are not meant to be seen, only hidden under other, better, fashion fabrics to achieve a final end.  By leaving the raw supplies I used exposed, the effect reminds me both of the fragility of a spider web and the physical decay we frequently revel in around Halloween.

Spider web prints seem to have exploded in the vintage fashion scene.  They are incredibly popular and collectable today, so it’s no wonder that several retailers are reprinting such fabric.  It’s a good thing for those of us who sew because we can provide ourselves with what we cannot get our hands on – vintage spider web dresses!  These prints can be found starting in the 1940s, or very late 30’s at the earliest.  Spider web prints seem to have had their high point between the mid-1940s and mid 1950s, but still quietly persisting through the 1960s and 70’s through the work of some bigger named designers.  For some reason, though, the form of stylized web-and-roses print that I have used from Gertie is the one that is most frequently seen.

Although I and the world of today tend to automatically associate spider web anything with the holiday of Halloween, if you look closely at the old original vintage advertisements for such spider web print dresses they specifically are for spring, yet also mention that it is an “all year design”.  I have a whole Pinterest board dedicated to “Spider Web Clothes Vintage and Modern” so please visit there and look closely to read for yourself.  It is so interesting to look at the primary sources for this new vintage trend, because when you do, you realize we are looking at it quite differently than they did.  Spider webs for spring?  As lovely as my own dress and hat turned out (if I do say so myself) and as wonderful as it feels to wear this swingy and sexy little number, I think I’ll take any and every excuse to wear this as much as possible!

Going Back to a Past (1940’s) Challenge

For last week’s ‘Challenge of Re-Doing a Past Theme’ I choose the week of May 21st to go back and fulfill – ‘the 1940’s Challenge’. This was a rather easy submission, as I sewed my dress in the late summer/early fall of the year 2011. However, this suit-style, collared dress was my first in a new obsession with vintage patterns, and, as it turned out so well, I have worn it A LOT since it was made. It looks so good with a pristine head topper from my old hat collection…and gloves!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC: linen-look rayon/poly blend (the fabric is very soft, rather classic looking, and has a nice texture) from stash, so basically free

NOTIONS: bought matching thread and bias tape and a zipper. The cost? not much…maybe $6

PATTERN: Simplicity #2744, year 1949, bought at a vintage clothing store for $4; I picked this pattern out, along with a few others, when out shopping on my Birthday…it was a gift for myself!

FIRST WORN: to the city’s Saturday (Soulard) Farmer’s market

TIME TO COMPLETE: maybe 10 hours- I took my time to enjoy sewing this, wanting to do it right and making sure I was following the instructions…what’s a slide fastener’ anyone?!?

As with vintage patterns, it only had one size, and this one was the size I needed for my bust. I figured it would be an easy fix to adjust it to give me more room in my hips and waist. If I can’t grade up like a traditional “modern” pattern, I will do it myself!  Well – to my surprise – the pattern been used already by someone who knew what they were doing and someone who was also my exact size. How do I know? The pattern pieces had been cut out by a pinking shears (I don’t think they’re all that popular anymore though I do use mine on occasion). The pieces had also been sliced and folded open in all the right places to add in 1 1/2 inches – just what I needed. My work was done for me, already. This was a first!

Simplicity 2744 was a joy to sew together, quite easy and straightforward. I didn’t even have to do any interfacing. It was surprising that not even the collar was supposed to be interfaced according to the instructions. At first I was going to do interfacing anyway, but I thought, “if it worked for women in the 40’s, I’ll try to be authentic, too”. I do not know if the lack of interfacing was due to America crawling out from a World War or the fact pattern companies wanted something very simple for a housewife to throw together. Perhaps specifically saying to add interfacing was taken for granted – women of those knew what needed to be done and didn’t need to be told. The collar did turn out extremely well. It lays very flat, doesn’t bunch up without interfacing, and fits so very nicely onto the dress neckline.

As you can see in the picture, I added carriers to my dress so I can wear a belt, with the back carriers in a fancy crisscrossed X shape. Completely my idea…

The only problems I had sewing this were pretty minor: the fabric and the sleeves. I am glad I covered most ALL of my seams with bias tape because the fabric was shredding everywhere and was sort of a mess. My sleeves had way too big of an ease to fit in the armhole, and no amount of stretching or gathering could help me get the two to fit at all together. At that point, I took it upon myself to add small pleats, every 2 inches, across the top shoulder cap of each sleeve. Then the sleeves sewed in nicely and I am very happy with the result. I think it is much better over some messy, forced gathering. Look closely in the above picture and you should be able to see what I did.

What is funny are the instructions to use a ‘slide fastener’ sewn under the armhole along the side seam. I just used a zipper instead. If anyone reading this knows what a slide fastener was, please let me know.

The bust – which was the only part of the dress I expected to fit when I was done – was still big. Maybe it was meant to be worn with those war time body shaping underwear forms. (Those were all designed by men, by the way, and the Hollywood actresses that wore them cursed them as torture. I’m thinking of the bra designed by Howard Hughes for Jane Russell in the 1943 movie The Outlaw). Nevertheless, to fit the modern ME, I sewed in the darts to fit, extending them all the way to under the collar very much like princess seams.

Now it is a circus trick to wiggle in AND out of the dress, between the close fitting bust and the small side zipper. Oh well! This dress looks great and fits quite comfortably once it is on myself. I can pretty much wear this dress all year, too, because of the fabric. My husband always tells me how good I look when I wear this, so there’s a good incentive to put this on frequently!

Enjoy your Holiday sewing everyone!

P.S. I don’t plan on wearing something like this underwear with my vintage dresses anytime soon, just to make them fit. Behold the 40’s and the 50’s undressed below…

This display in the picture above is from an exhibit called “Underneath It All” going on at our city’s History Museum. It is a very interesting display on the “distinct changes in the fashionable silhouette of women’s dress over the decades, made possible by undergarments.” It is tastefully done, and begins with the Pre-French Revolution/Colonial era dress up to modern ‘barely there’ times. As a sewer of vintage clothes, I really appreciated this and learned a lot.