Hermes Helmet

Hooray!  This is my 300th post!  To celebrate, I’ve dressed up in the 1950s finest.  This will be a bit of a different post in the way that the only thing me-made is a curious hat.  My dress is the true big deal here, though…it is an “Anne Fogarty” label!  Not only is it currently my most prestigious true vintage garment, but it is such a learning experience to examine, as well as a wondrous treat to put on.  This dress gives me a dream figure, and I hope my little handmade hat is the proper extravagant finishing touch to such a formal outfit!  More about that later.

For those of you that do not know who this dress’ label refers to, Anne Fogarty is summarized as “an American fashion designer, active 1940–80, who was noted for her understated, ladylike designs that were accessible to American women on a limited income.”  She was discovered because someone had the open-mindedness to see her potential, and she learned as she worked her way up…a true American story.  Her designs emphasized femininity especially seen in her “famous paper doll dress”, also the reason I am so excited to have found this dress in my size.

The dress I have on is a great example of the “tight bodice, wasp waist, and full, ballet-length skirt supported by layers of stiffened petticoats” which were the trademarks of an Anne Fogarty “paper doll” dress, seen as an American and inexpensive option to the Dior silhouette popular since the late 40’s.  I remotely dated my dress to the early side of the mid-50’s, and the happenstance of finding a similarly designed frock in an advertisement from 1955 has concreted my assumption.  There had to have been yards upon yards of rayon satin finish taffeta needed to make this dress with such a full skirt that is over and above a circle shape, so a ‘reasonable’ price must still have been expensive.  My Grandmother’s brooch even matches the one in the advertisement!

Fogarty seems to receive harsh flack in any write-up nowadays on account of her book, “Wife-Dressing: The Fine Art of Being a Well-Dressed Wife”.  I think this is sadly unfair because it not only overshadows her wonderful, resourceful career but, as a product of her times, it is going to naturally have stereotypes.  However, in my opinion, there is still a lot of good said in her book that can be relevant and followed today, just as her designs have such a lasting beauty and magnificence of craftsmanship that the couture world (or anyone interested in sewing) of today would do good to look and learn from.  We seem to live in a world where the runways have become a place to make a statement, show one’s art, entertain extravagantly, or display an idea, making it less about presenting something truly wearable to any but rich starlets who have somewhere to go in view of the paparazzi.  Goodness, with some of Balmain’s Spring Couture 2019 models going topless and the last few years’ trend of sheer fashions (these have a ridiculous amount of nothing there), even what clothes do come out of high design still make women practically naked!  One cannot put on a dress like this Anne Fogarty creation and – miss in some way – the covered up, but still sexy as all get out, appeal of a body sculpting garment which can craft a tasteful yet enticing figure with superior quality of artistry, yet still be accessible to an everyday fashionista.

Taking pictures of a solid black dress is very challenging, so we didn’t even really try to take many detail shots, but I can tell you about them instead.  The most obvious and perhaps the most confusing is the drop-waist/skirt seam.  The curving is ingenious, especially taking into account the many tiny cartridge pleats that comprise the skirt attaching into that seam.  Yes, it is not plainly gathered…mind blowing!  There is no boning of any kind for this bodice, but from the bust down the inside is double layered of fabric and all the princess seams double stitched and pressed out.  It kind of just molds my body into shape as I zip it on (there is a sturdy metal center back zipper).  Granted, I did follow Anne Fogarty’s advice and wear a petticoat with a vintage, strapless, full body corselet under this for the full and properly 50’s experience, and I actually lose a few inches in my waist!  She seemed to recommend two petticoats under her dresses, but this dress already has one built into it, made from the same material as the dress itself.  The skirt seams are almost all on selvedge seams, while the rest are simply pinked.

The upper bodice is very classic 50’s – kimono sleeves with a parallelogram underarm gusset so I have full arm movement (amazing for a fancy dress).  The neckline has a rolled edge which ends up looking like a collar.  There is a plunging back which more than accounts for the high covered front.  The bodice also has the very tiniest of flaws in this otherwise amazingly excellent condition vintage piece.  There two are pinhead size holes at the left front chest which I really wonder if they aren’t from a brooch, making me kind of feel badly for adding one myself.  However, I am careful to not poke roughly through the fabric.  The nature of this dress’ fabric is so stiff, tightly woven, and structured it is perfect for a design like Fogarty’s but it keeps frays in check.  I think I’ll leave those little spots be as they are.

Now, to talk about the hat I made since you get to finally see it best from behind!


FABRIC:  a thick vinyl faux crocodile skin, ivory with gold foiled accents

PATTERN:  McCall’s #1571, year 1950

NOTIONS:  all I needed was thread, some cotton and interfacing scraps, and some wire for the “headband” that is part of the lining…

TIME TO COMPLETE:  this was made in about 4 or 5 hours

TOTAL COST:  I spent $5 for a half yard of the vinyl, and only used half of what I bought, so I suppose this hat only cost me $2.50!  I should just be able to squeeze in a little fancy purse out of what’s leftover, to be made in the future (but I will probably choose a view from an OOP Vogue #7354).

This hat ended up in a whole different direction than I originally intended, but that’s okay – I love it just how it is better than I had imagined.  The pattern I used actually came from my mom’s pattern stash.  I doubt it came from her mom or has a story behind it or I probably would have heard about it by now, but I’m now thinking I should ask her just in case there is a tale that just hasn’t come out yet.  Even with my small changes to the pattern it still is classic 50’s style of full crown coverage.  Only, here it received what I see as an avant-garde upgrade, too.

At first I sewed the hat up just like the pattern designed (sans lining) and it turned out mimicking something between a religious bonnet and a swimmers cap.  It completely covered my ears and hair.  Bummer!  Although difficult to sew on my machine, I was super excited because the three layers came together quickly.  It did fit my head quite well once I top-stitched the seams down (by hand).  The front needed to be pruned down and given interest to be made fashionable.

My solution was to work with what I already had.  The side curves had “wings” cut out of them.  The “wings” are still attached to the hat at the inner corners at the top of the head, and were left free of the lining when I stitched it around the edge.  The wings are tacked down on the sides of the head further back and decorated as you see them with vintage metal shoe clips.  This way, without adding anything new or doing drastic changes, there is room to show my ears and hair as well as have a sort of interesting underlying theme…my post’s title gives that away.

You see, Petasos is the closest thing that my hat reminds me of.  An ancient petasos was a metal helmet worn by a member of the Athenian cavalry, and it later became associated with the god Hermes (also later known as Mercury to the Romans) when it had the side “wings” on it.  Hermes was the messenger god as well as “moving freely between the worlds of mortal and divine”, and to accommodate his quickness, his petasos became more streamlined to the head, too, besides losing its wide traditional brim.  He was also the god of commerce, his very name under the Romans is related to the Latin word for “merchandise”, so anything of monetary value, especially precious metal and coinage has been associated with him.  My 50’s hat oddly aligns with all of this.  Its construction is plated, in a mock form of those crescent-shaped overlapping pieces which can be found on the back of an armadillo or on a knuckle in medieval armor.  I never really meant for such an association…the wings I added to my hat do add a lot to the original frumpy design and seemed like a natural adaptation.

Sometimes I do believe there is a lot of either subconscious planning going on or projects just make themselves what they are supposed to be.  Whatever the case, and whatever connotation my hat has, I always like what I make best when I don’t try too hard…thinking that is!  I just make beautiful and creative stuff that I do need more often than not and always do enjoy even when it’s made for others.  Makers gotta make, as the popular saying goes.

There are some designers that I can associate myself more easily than many others, and this is so with Anne Fogarty’s story and beautiful creations.  I don’t ever really go out for the purpose of buying vintage (I like to do controlled browsing), and goodness knows I don’t have enough fancy occasions to wear nice stuff to, but this was in my size by an well-known designer and it was too good of a deal to pass up.  As I have said in past posts (here and here) where I addressed the care for, benefits, and details to true vintage, this dress is worthwhile alone by being something I can learn from and aspire to.  Let me know if you have a garment that has a quality or story that has taught you something, or at least inspires you to create!

I am so happy to be writing my 300th post to all of you.  Thank you for all the comments and support you have shared with me along the way.  I pulled out the good stuff for you this time and hope you enjoyed this slight change of pace.  Here’s to many more blog posts yet to come!

Savoring the Harvest Sun

Not too many years do we have the chance this year is giving to shop for pumpkins and Thanksgiving items with a balmy feel in the air.  Despite the fact we did receive about 5 inches of snow less than a week ago, little more than a week before that I was wearing a sundress just to stay cool.  Not only are we having one weird fall season here, but it is also a wonderful extended summer.  I love this because I can wear more of my favorite bare shouldered garments…but I am a warm weather girl at heart, after all!  Thus, for this second part to my ongoing blog series called the “Indian Summer of the Sundress”, here is a rich harvest-toned vintage 1950 sundress and sheer redingote set.  It has all the colors that the falling leaves and cornucopia fruits of the earth both sport for fall so I can feel ready for Thanksgiving no matter what the weather outside us is saying!

Now, just to clarify right off the bat, I only made the sheer redingote (also the hair flower and jewelry) for this ensemble, so this post will mostly be about the portion I crafted.  I did not make the sundress.  It is handmade by someone else.  I know – what an oddity here on my blog!  It is a display “inspiration” garment from the “Cloud 9 Fabrics” company, and was made by a certain Catherine Zebrowski using their “Sow & Sew” organic cotton collection from designs of Eloise Renouf.  (Follow the link and you can see they made this same dress in a blue, grey, and black colorway, as well!)  For this dress, the “Sprouts” print is the contrast along the bodice edge and waistline while the “Herb Garden” is used for the rest of the dress.  I love the take they took on this pattern – it’s a complimentary boldness that is cheerful and intriguing, besides being a different, unique take on understanding the pattern.  I’m so pleased to have the opportunity to acquire this dress, give it a happy home, and let it shine by completing the vintage pattern set with my redingote!


FABRIC:  Redingote – a brown-toned Goldenrod colored poly chiffon from a big-box fabric store chain

PATTERN:  Simplicity #8252, a reprint of a year 1950 Simplicity designer pattern #8270

NOTIONS:  I needed thread, a large hook-n-eye, and some stiff, sheer organza

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The redingote came together more quickly than I expected.  It was made in about 6 hours and finished on September 19, 2018

THE FINISHINGS:  A sheer dress deserves only the prettiest (and the strongest) seams that you could see on a see-through chiffon!  French.  The bottom hemline was yards and yards long (being so full skirted) so I used an overlocker (serger) to make tiny rolled hem edges.

TOTAL COST:  about $25 for the whole set!

Cloud 9’s vintage dress gave me a much appreciated boost for making this Simplicity re-print.  I have been wanting to make it, but my mental caveat was saying “there is a lot of fabric needed (a couple yards) for each piece”, and I knew each one would take a good amount of time to finish.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not against spending whatever time is necessary to make the outfit I set my mind to making!  I just didn’t relish the idea of spending the time it would take to sew a completely indulgent and unnecessary item like the sheer redingote after making the sundress, too.  The sundress was what I primarily wanted and will wear the most out of the pattern but knowing it has a matching cover-up that goes with it sort of ‘guilted’ me into feeling like the redingote had to be made as well.  I am hoping that I might wear the redingote over something else in my closet so I that it, too, sees more wearings than if it only is paired with its matching sundress. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed making something based off an idea I love from another creative maker out there!

There were some minor changes I made to the pattern.  My adaptations only made the redingote easier to make!  Firstly, the skirt portion is insanely full…a total fabric hog (nice to twirl in though).  The tissue pieces are almost out of hand, especially the skirt fronts.  They are quarter circles that make the front twice as full as the back.  Thinking about the skirt of sundress underneath, I realized that it has all of its gathered fullness in the front while the back is smooth and paneled.  This would mean that the redingote for over it would practically be the same way – most all of its fullness in front.  I didn’t like the idea of doubling up on poufiness in the front, so the redingote’s skirt was changed to be the opposite of the sundress.  I added an extra half-width panel into the skirt back and I folded the patterns skirt fronts in half to cut them out smaller.  This way there is partial fullness in front and more in back to even out the poufiness when the set is worn together.  My adaptation not only evens out the layers of the skirts but it also makes cutting out the skirt portion a little more manageable.

Secondly, I did not cuff the sleeves but chose a wide hem instead.  I ended up rather liking the way the longer sleeve ends looked.  I felt they widened my shoulders illusionally, thus complementing the waist.  Not cuffing the sleeves really made things easier anyway.  No really, I did like to look better…I just wasn’t being lazy.

Finally, there just a few last cosmetic changes to list!  I eliminated the center seam to the bodice back and cut it on the fold instead.  In lieu of using interfacing in the sheer collar and taking the risk of either having it be obviously in sight or changing the chiffon color, I used transparent organza to shape and stiffen it.   The organza is wonderfully invisible sandwiched in between the golden chiffon and it adds enough body to keep its shape but still be flexible.  Lastly, I ditched the fussy front ties shown to close up the front bodice – they’re too distracting if you ask me.  I merely put one big hook-and-eye at the waistline, tucking it inside the seams.  An open bodice to the redingote shows off the neckline to the sundress underneath.

I did make sure that the waistline on this sheer over-dress was nice and strong so that a hook closing wouldn’t rip anything.  As I mentioned in “THE FACTS” I did all French seams, even for the waistline.  To make the waistline stronger, I turned bodice over the French waistline seam and stitched it down on both sides.  It ends up looking rather like a belt, in my opinion, because of the thickness from all the layers of fabric.  Besides, anytime there is gathering into a French seam things can feel a bit bulky, so stitching it down made it more comfortable to wear, after all.

My accessories add a rust tone to the browns, ochre, and dusty grey and pink flecks by being a deep, burgundy red.  My bracelet matches with my earrings – both I made using Czech glass teardrop beads ordered from Etsy.  Since clip-on or screw-back earrings are vintage, I used some old-style blanks that I ordered from a jewelry supply shop in China and tied a handful of the beads so they look like a cluster of berries hanging down.  In lieu of a hat, the hair flower is made by me with just two, oversized fake chrysanthemums attached to a hair comb with floral wire and floral tape.  Happily, practically the same tone red, described as “sunny terra-cotta”, can be found in my lipstick, “Happy“ from the Besame cosmetics “1937 Anniversary Snow White 7 Dwarfs Collection”.  My necklace and gloves are true vintage.

Finding, wearing, and buying someone else’s me-made has helped me appreciate others’ sewing.  It has also made me realize just how spoiled I am by doing my own sewing…this handmade dress was the only way I felt comfortable and happy buying something new and ready-to-wear!  But really – the fact that it was a vintage design fits perfectly into my style.  Vintage styles are the best way for me to express my style and feel at ease in what I am wearing.  I want to say I don’t think I could have done better, though.  It was luckily sewn in my size!  I’m impressed by the details and lovely construction to this pattern – they even sewed in an invisible zipper up the side!  Besides, I haven’t yet splurged on organic cotton for myself.

So – on top of all the other benefits I’ve already listed, this dress is a real treat.  People don’t know what they are missing.  If you can’t make it yourself, the feeling of having something made for you can’t be beat.  Make what you wear, handmade or store bought, “yours” in some way, even if that something is as little as a family jewelry piece or a full out sewing project like I did.

Extending heartfelt wishes for a wonderful Thanksgiving weekend!  Don’t forget to be thankful in both word and deed because “Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” – William Arthur Ward

Year 1950 “Wild Thing” Weskit Blouse and a Basic Black Slim Skirt

Roar, snarl! For a cold weather set, this outfit is kinda hot, if I must say so myself. Something as “buttoned down” and “prim and proper” as a 1950 hourglass-defining waistcoat becomes defiant and wild with my bold decision to use a suede leopard fabric. To match my newly made blouse, my suede multi-paneled skirt is an oldie-but-goodie garment, still being worn and enjoyed since I made it about 15 years ago.



My “jungle cat” face!

I’m not usually an animal print sort of girl and a weskit is so odd and form fitting, but yet I am not shy to try new things. “Jungle January” is being hosted again over at the “Petty Grievances” blog so I have a good reason to go “wild”. After all, there’s always the (good) chance I might like something I thought I wouldn’t otherwise, especially when I make it myself. So here’s to going all out for a fun and unique project! Besides, there was sort of a gentle challenge behind the source of my blouse’s animal print. The fabric was a casual gift from my dad, who bought it for a work presentation background drape but thought it would find better use in my hands. I had to prove that hope correct, even if it was only one yard!


FABRIC:  Weskit: a 100% polyester micro-suede in a leopard print of brown, tan, and black tones. The facing pieces are a tan cotton-poly broadcloth. Skirt: a polyester micro-suede with a poly cling-free lining.100_6442a-comp

NOTIONS:  I have a variety of brown tones and used about three different colors from on hand for my weskit. Wanting to make this a practical “make do” project, I also used whatever was on hand to work – shoulder pads, interfacing, bias tape, and buttons. The skirt did not require much besides thread, with some elastic to finish the waist.

PATTERNS:  McCall #8265, year 1950, for the weskit, and a modern out-of-print Butterick #3972, year 2003, for the Butterick 3972, multi panel skirts-front cover-compskirt.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  Well, the skirt was made so long ago (15 years) I don’t remember how long it took me exactly but I know it was relatively quick project for all those seams and panels (and lining). This year, I remade the waistband in a matter of one hour. The weskit took a total of at least 15 hours, spent off and on over the course of a few weeks. It was finally finished on October 30, 2015.

THE INSIDES: The weskit has a “Heinz 57” mix of different seams…French, raw, and bias bound. The skirt was made on my mother’s serge machine (over locker to Europeans).


TOTAL COST:  As the weskit was half gift, half “from-on-hand”, and the skirt was made so long ago (with fabric probably bought for me by my parents, too), I’m counting this as…drumroll, please…free! Really, though, this outfit wouldn’t cost much made from newly bought fabric with both patterns demanding less than 3 yards combined.

These two pieces were a bit complicated in their own way. The skirt is fairly easy, just a bit time consuming and needing precise designation of the individual pieces with all the panels which make up the pattern. It’s kind of like assembling a quilt! Since the skirt is put together with so many pieces, I really don’t remember why I made this pattern out of a solid black, but perhaps I wanted a one color skirt to have some interesting seam lines at close inspection. The weskit was so very seamed and fitted, it became sort of a problem because each spot to be tailored relied on the other. For example, I couldn’t tell how the weskit would exactly fit until it could close, which meant I needed to add on the facing (for a true judgment)…which I couldn’t do yet because I might have to take out the back darts. The same combined problem existed between the side seams and the sleeves – I needed to hem the sleeve length before sewing up the seam (because the wrists are so skinny) but I couldn’t do that until they were in the weskit, which then the side seam (or at least half) needed to be done. Such a bother, I know, but if I end up with a perfectly fitted and beautifully tailored garment, any extra effort is worth it for me. If it’s something as unusual as a weskit I’m going to make, then it had to be a success in my book…and it is a wonderfully good one!


Part of my problems with fitting had to do with the proportions to this patterns seeming to be not as consistent and predictable as others from the early 50’s or even from McCall’s. One of the reasons I love McCall’s vintage out-of-print patterns is that not only are they printed for easy marking and making, but they also tend to fit me well (besides having awesome cover drawings). This pattern did have the lovely envelope image and printed pattern, but not the predictable fit that does well for me. I had to take out so much from the bust, both in the side seams of the bodice front and the darts, that it was crazy. Granted, women at that time were probably wearing “battle armor” style pointy bullet bras or some sort of brassiere artificially forming the girls into something like a Barbie doll’s chest, but this pattern was even bigger than that, it seemed to me. Then, the waist was incredibly small. I added extra room in the waist, but even with that I had to take out the bottom half of the back darts and let out the side seams from the under bust down to 3/8 inch just to fit. Women of the 50’s also wore very confining waist cinchers which helped give them the “wasp waists” so popular, and this might be the reason for the tiny waist sizing. 100_6563a-comp

So, according to my supposing, the sizing being off very well could be solely on account of the trend of women’s lingerie creating the desired silhouette of the time…or it could merely be this particular pattern. I don’t think my blaming the era’ lingerie is too far off, because I remember my Grandmother reminiscing about the 50’s era confining “corsets”, and she seemed attributed her 19 inch waist on her wedding day in 1951 to wearing that kind of stuff. Wow, a 19 inch waist would have certainly found this pattern (as I made it) roomy. Looking into the fashion of the decade of the 50’s nowadays can make the decade feel like a great step back to time where women were bound and confined in more ways than one.

Moving on back to the construction details, my only major changes to the weskit design (besides those made for fitting reasons) were to lengthen the bottom hem by one inch and to eliminate the hassle of wrist closures. The sleeve ends are skinny, but not small enough to not slip over my hands when I cup them. Sometimes wrist closures in small circumference sleeve hems only end up itching my skin, and I had a feeling that a zipper had a high chance of that occurring. Besides, I really didn’t feel like the extra fuss of bothering with closing the wrists when dressing in my weskit. I have enough of those garments from the 1940’s where there are four or five different spots you have to close just to be dressed (see my 1941 Military-inspired wool suit for one example). There is a point which I appreciate of being ‘historically accurate’, but at the same time, I don’t think my interest in simplicity downgraded the weskit’s design.


I love the elegant neckline of the weskit, and the buttons I used are (I think) just enough contrast/match in color, with a small enough size to be feminine. The weskit calls for an odd number of seven buttons, and I found the perfect fit in my husband’s Grandmother’s collection – a set of six with a seventh matching in tone and width to the others except with a cat-eye center. The special odd-button is at the top, the first closure to the front. The bottom button ends a bit too high for my liking, so I added a tiny hook and eye at the center of the front weskit hem to keep that sharp corner together.

100_6556a-compAnyone with larger upper arms like myself would love this pattern (although I believe it is hard to find)! Not too many sleeves are friendly enough to allow generous room in the biceps and shoulders but this weskit certainly and unexpectedly does – with room to spare. The sleeve pattern piece was huge from just below the elbows and up to the shoulder, but being a 1950’s pattern, it is shaped very well. It makes for a wonderful deep set sleeve which is very easy to move and reach freely in, though it does need thicker than normal shoulder pads to fill in the tops appropriately. If it wasn’t for the generous sleeve tops, I think this weskit would be uncomfortably confining.

100_6443a-compI considered adding in some lightweight boning into the weskit to achieve something closer to the envelope drawing where the hem sticks out and the body is a straight and rigid vertical line. But no…what’s good enough is best left alone, and the pattern doesn’t call for such measures. I figure if I want such a look, I’ll suck up and wear a 1950’s corset girdle, and see how much torture it involves and commiserate with my Grandmother. My hem is merely turned under with bias tape instead of using the pattern’s facing so perhaps this is why I’m short of a feature to the silhouette (or maybe just hard on myself).

Weskits have been worn for a long time and are a fashion adapted from men’s wear. The word is like an informal acronym of “waist coat”, those short vest-like which ends at the high hip and is sleeveless, collarless and worn over a shirt and sometimes under a jacket. Waistcoats are of very English origin which can be dated very precisely to October of 1666 from a decree by “The Merry Monarch” Charles II after the Persian-mode of dressing. (See more waistcoat/weskit history here.) Some waistcoats created an extra layer of warmth before the era of central heating. Mostly these “waist coats” were ornamental, many with plain backs and all the ornamentation on the front, some even with a mock front or simple tie-back.waistcoat & weskit history collage

However, patterns I’ve seen for weskits in the 20th century include every sort of variant – a bib-like year 1918 weskit, a 1929 kimono sleeves weskit, a 40’s weskit-like jacket, a The Thrill of Brazil movie pane-cropped-Evelyn Keyessleeveless and strapless corset-like summer 50’s weskit, a 1954 apron weskit modeled by “I Love Lucy”, and vests/weskits with and without collars, scoop necks, and double-breasted closures. My all-time favorite weskit is a striped one worn by actress Evelyn Keyes seen in one of my favorite movies, “The Thrill of Brazil” from 1946. Variety is the rule it seems with weskits, and they are so complimentary to the waist, I’m surprised they aren’t seen more than they are…which is hardly at all.

Speaking of history, my hat is a satin-type of nylon, woven as if it was straw, in an authentic early 50’s asymmetric style for more period appropriateness to my outfit. I love the fancy jeweled broach on one side! See “dollycreates” blog page here for a picture link to a 1951 fashion magazine showing a hat just like mine!

To complete the style of my weskit while still remaining modern as well as wearing something I made, my past-project black micro-suede skirt was resurrected and slightly re-fashion to my current taste. You see, the skirt was made well (all seams serged, fully lined), I did like it and have worn it many times, especially in the years after it was made, but lately I did not have the desire to put it on because I no longer liked the poufy elastic gathered waist. So I took out the elastic and cut off the casing to start over and make a cleaner, not-so-bulky, gathered waist. I’ve found myself doing this on several other past-made skirts with the same full elastic gathered waist. Very soon, I’ll have a blog post showing my method of revitalizing old waistbands and making smoother stretch-on skirts, otherwise I’d get into all the details here. All I’ll say is that it involves wide 2 inch elastic and keeps the gathering on the sides over the hips.


I love how the straight and long style of my black skirt is not-too-far-off from the slender and body hugging columnar bottoms which were so incredibly popular for women to wear for the few years in the very late 1940’s and early 1950’s. My modern skirt is close enough to be similar in silhouette, but not so extreme as those from the past. It’s still full, but slimming to the point that I feel taller in my skirt, and for a shorter lady like me, I like that! Those early 1950’s/late 1940’s skirts were at their longest lengths, low mid-calf, and very slender to the point that they appear restricting to my eyes, limiting movement like a modern “hobble skirt”. I do have a skirt pattern from 1949 (McCall #7809) which I think is a perfect example of what I’m saying, so I want to make this up sooner than later so I can experience first-hand just how confining and slender women wore their skirt back then. 100_6542a-comp

Practical sewing has wonderful benefits even though it might seem a boring sew. It’s great to make garments that are classic enough to be a staple in a wardrobe for many years, like my skirt, and to fix them so you continue to like them, as well. On the other hand, it’s also great to try those more unusual pieces that stand out on their own and teach new sewing/fitting skills. Unique and lesser known styles are especially open to those who sew versus those who rely on what the fashion industry cranks out. Both ends of the spectrum met in this unusual set…and I love it!

What is your most unusual kind of garment you’ve made? Do you have “stand-by” clothes that you’re still wearing (and loving) after years of use?