A Very Mod British Summer Sun Suit

I am truly infatuated with shorts-inclusive vintage play sets this year!  After my 1940s set a few years back (see it here), and then the 50’s (posted here) and 80’s (previously posted here) sets from this 2019, I’ve now also rounded out things by whipping up a 1960s sun suit, as well!

This set is a special oddity in my sewing – its pattern is a little known “Le-Roy” brand printed by the Associated British Paper Patterns Company out of Bletchley.  (I am rather confused by an English pattern having a French name, though!)  This is only the second English pattern I have used (first one here) and certainly the only one of the brand I have in my stash…but then again I haven’t seen many of Le-Roy designs for sale either.  I picked this one up on a whim for a steal of a price years back and I’m so glad I did.  I definitely want to come back to this pattern in the future and make the tunic length overblouse, too.

Unfortunately, the rarity of the brand makes it hard to date precisely, but the trend for this type of set and the styling on the envelope is the key.  My estimate for this is that it is possibly as early as 1964 yet no later than 1968.  Why do I believe this?  The famous actress Audrey Hepburn wore a very similar two piece sun set in the British 1967 movie “Two for the Road”  We all know how fashion likes to follow what is seen on the stars and starlets of the silver screen!  Yet, my Simplicity brand calendar of vintage pattern cover images has an almost exact two piece summer outfit labelled as the year 1964 on the page for August 2019.

So my visual proof gave me a 5 year range, and I channeled it by using the print that I did.  After all, if you just had the line drawing to reference, this play set is not all too different from a two piece summer set from the 40’s or the 50’s (scroll through this Pinterest board of mine to see).  Thus, I felt I needed the material to be the visibly identifying factor (besides the close fit) to testify to its publishing date from very modern-looking 60’s era.  As luck would have it, the FDIM museum (in Los Angeles, California)recently shared through their Friday “Unboxing” videos on Instagram a designer Emilio Pucci blouse from 1967 with a geometric, two-color green print over a white background.  Seeing that reminded me so much of the leftovers to some modern designer pants I made a while back.  I just had to make what I feel is a perfectly Mod era outfit for a British style summer!  I’ve made so many dresses from the 60’s era this is such a fun kind of a change!

These two pieces were an under-one-yard, scrap-busting project that also now gives me full outfit options to some pants I made years back from the same material.  There is nothing quite like matching mix-and-match separates to make me feel like I am both ready for a trip and completely up to rocking this summer!  This is what optimizing one’s fabric stash looks like.  The ¾ yard leftovers from these Odeeh designer Burda Style pants were just enough to squeeze in these little pre-70’s short shorts and a crop top reminiscent of a vintage-style sports bra.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  100% cotton duck cloth for the printed portion of the set, a 100% satin finish Pima cotton for the solid contrast, and a bleached cotton muslin for the lining material to each piece

PATTERN:  a mid to late 60’s LeRoy #3195

NOTIONS:  I had to custom order the little 6 inch separating sports zipper for the crop top, but otherwise I had all the thread and interfacing I needed.  The shorts have a true vintage metal zipper, painted in a lime green, also from on hand out of the notions stash in the drawers of my 1960 Necchi sewing machine cabinet.  I figured it was probably era appropriate!

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The hand-stitched zipper took an hour and a half to sew in itself, but the overall two pieces were finished on July 12, 2019 in 15 to 20 hours.

THE INSIDES:  all covered up by full lining

TOTAL COST:  Next to nothing!  As I was using scraps from another project that was made several years back this is pretty much free in my mind, excepting the $8 zipper.

This was easy in theory to make.  The tricky part was nailing the fitting.  The underbust seam had to be snug enough to stay down but not tight like a bra.  I did not want the shorts to look like any other ill-fitting RTW item I have tried and left behind.  A quick tissue fit revealed this was pretty much spot on my size, but when working with a new pattern company and aiming for a very tailored fit I always give myself some extra room in seam allowance.  Technically this should have been a bit large for me going by their size chart, so I’m assuming either the company’s designs or merely this particular one ran small.  In a few places – such as over my hips – I had to bring the seam allowance out to only ¼ inch so I am so thankful I gave myself some wiggle room when I cut.  That was not an easy thing to do.

I might have made this set on ¾ yard, but with the extra room I added when cutting, every piece ended up touching the other.  This is always a bit unnerving because there is absolutely no room for error and I have to think of everything.  I do not encourage this.  When it does work out, however, such an economical pattern and fabric layout is the source of both relief and self-amazement, not to mention the euphoric happiness great stash-busting can bestow!

Contrasting the shorts hem and top neckline with a solid was sort of a semi-stash busting effort, as well.  It all started with some satin-finish Pima fabric bought for – but no longer needed – as a lining under a sheer silk.  It has now been tentatively slated to be pleated 40’s era shorts in the future.  The edges of the cut length were sacrificed as part of an experiment before committing to a whole garment in such a color.  You see, I have never really been a fan of chartreuse, but I know it seems quite popular and a sought after color amongst vintage enthusiasts.  I do like myself in yellow and in green individually, but both combined in one shade is something that makes my skin look sickly.  However, I know never to say never!  Using a bit of chartreuse as the contrast “edging” for these two pieces was a good trial to see how if the color in small amounts is more tolerable…and I do believe it is!  Anything in a satin Pima cotton will be beautiful, though.  The true shade on the end of the bolt in the store was marked as “pistachio” but as it is darker and more yellowed than the lime green in the print, I see it as a chartreuse in person, not captured by the pictures.

The design itself was very basic.  Yet, between a good handful of darts on both the shorts and the crop top as well as fantastic real-life curves tailored into the seams I think such a simple little set ends up with a great fit I really never expected.  I like the way there was a lack of a waistband yet the shorts still hug my true waist.  The way the wide U-shaped neckline really squares up my shoulders and frames the face…and is easy to dress into with the front zipper!  Cotton duck can be rough and aggravating on the skin and the background of the print is white after all, so even though the instructions tell me to make a full lining I would have done so anyway.

I feel happy and confident in this play set in just the way I had dreamed of and only half-hoped for.  My squishy midsection makes me feel naked when I think about what I am wearing and become self-conscious.  My bigger booty and power hips and thighs have always made me self-conscious, too, in close fit bottoms, even more so in shorts.  That, combined with the fact I have never really found a pair of close fitting bifurcated bottoms – short or long – that could fit me, have made me shy away from such a thing in the mistaken belief they would not work for me.

Well, this is why I sew.  I am able to make what I want to wear and do so in a way that actually fits me and compliments me.  After a sewing a few skinny jeans that I love (posted here and here), this set was an opportunity to redeem something I never supposed I could or would wear and enjoy.  I believe fashion should be glorious fun, thoughtfully interesting, and individually personalized if anyone is going to feel truly comfortable in it.  It has to be an extension of oneself.  Achieving such a sweet spot with certain items that people are unsure about from the beginning – whether it’s someone who doesn’t like skirts or (like me) with a play set such as this – and ending up totally won over enough to feel as if you suddenly have a new type of garment that you can love your body in…that is when fashion helps you be your best self.  I am showing more skin than I am normally comfortable doing, but between my maker’s pride, the fun colors, the curious oddity of the fashion, and the joy of something new, I love myself in this Mod British summer sun suit!

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A “Mini-Me” Vintage Lounging Jacket

“Like father like son…” is a cliché that absolutely applies more often than not to my husband and our son.  So…one grown up vintage smoking jacket (previous post) deserved a half-pint version, too!  I kept with the family ties and made my son a fleece housecoat, or lounging jacket, using a vintage 60’s pattern that my husband’s mom had used to sew something for him when he was little.

Kiddie catered, this has a frog theme of my son’s choosing, with a printed fleece that reminded him of lily pads (they do see things differently and more creatively), with cute frog face buttons.  Anytime he is slightly chilly in the pajama time of the evenings or after his bath, this fleece housecoat is the perfect thing for him.  It was his Easter morning garb to rush outside from bed and look for eggs in the backyard!  He looks so grown up in this and it makes him so cuddly cozy to hug!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  fleece

PATTERN:  Simplicity #7407, year 1968

NOTIONS:  I used of some ribbon from my stash (leftover from the suspender straps to his 2017 Halloween costume) and he picked out the buttons on clearance at JoAnn

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The way I made it kept it fast and easy.  It was finished in October 2017 and it took about 6 to 8 hours to make.

TOTAL COST:  As with my presents, I don’t really count the cost, but I only needed just over one yard of clearance fleece so my total wasn’t much at all!

I made my son’s housecoat pretty much the same way as I had made mine own (posted here).  Fleece does need any edge finishing, which is so weird to me as I always sew with material which does fray where cut, so just like my housecoat I merely sewed ribbon along the edges for both decorative and stabilizing purposes.  I love the contrast ribbon edging gives.  It is just enough of a pop of color and keeps the fleece edge from rolling.

Of course no house robe is complete without a pocket (he loves to stash tissues, by the way!) so I gave a nice big oversized pocket.  I really don’t see how two pockets work when house coats wrap over almost asymmetrically, but the patterns almost always call for two.  The wrap edge would meet along the edge of the second pocket (if I would add it) and that seems weird to me.  Anyone know what’s up with the two pocket wrap-on house coat problem?

This was pretty much his exact size.  I just added a little more length in the sleeves to make sure and account for his growing like a weed!  The only thing I really changed was to leave out the waist tie.  Kids don’t need fussy clothes.  I just sewed down more of the ribbon around the waist to bring it in, anchoring it down with the buttonhole.

My son may not be as dapper as his dad is in his smoking jacket, but this one is perfect.  My son might look a bit serious in his photos but believe me he is hiding his giggles as well as the teeth he has lost.  I make sure not to forget to be fair with my sewing and make time to create for my family – they deserve nice things, too!  I know in my experience that home-time garments might not provide that fantastic of a post but they are the most worn and loved.

Mystery Mail Order Split Skirt Jumpsuit

This is my attempt at a compromise between skirts and pants, technically ‘culottes’…with a vintage interpretation.  I’m not exactly sure if this is the best look on me, especially with the mid-length wide bottoms, but I love it despite such misgivings because it is so comfy, different, and a creative use of a border design (if I do say so myself).  This is by no means my first jumpsuit (see my others here and here), only my first faux-dress one!

My title alludes to the mystery vintage pattern I used to make my culottes jumpsuit.  It was one of those many mail order patterns of the modern mid-century, but what was particularly bothering me was I could not date the design.  I estimated that the design was early 60’s (or even late 50’s for a stretch) based on the hairstyle alone.  Then, I shared the pattern on Instagram, and someone apparently knew enough based on the pattern number to date this to circa 1962.  I still don’t know what company or newspaper this particular one came from, and if anyone can tip me off, please, do share!  For now, though at least I know what decade to understand this…but whatever past time it is from, I like my new and unusual jumpsuit!

This is my submission for the “Sew Together for Summer” challenge of 2019, co-hosted by the blogger at “Sew Sarah Smith” with the Instagrammers Suzy at “sewing_in_spain” and Monika at “rocco.sienna”.  This year’s theme is jumpsuits, dungarees, overalls, playsuits, and rompers…something one piece that has bifurcated bottoms.  This garment certainly falls in this category!  However, one is never enough of a good thing so this is just my first part for the challenge…part two will be a full 50’s playsuit, coming soon since the closing date is June 21!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a lightweight chambray cotton denim with a border embroidery stitched along the selvedge; facing in a lightweight plain cotton

PATTERN:  a Mail Order pattern no.1495, ca. 1962

NOTIONS:  I needed lots of thread and bias tape to finish the edges (chambray frays like crazy otherwise), with some interfacing and four waistband style hook-n-eyes

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This took me about 10 to 12 hours to make and was finished on May 18, 2019.

TOTAL COST:  just under $30

Whatever company this pattern was from, I am impressed.  For such a simple, unassuming line drawing and such a basic looking pattern (unprinted tissue, simple instruction sheet) it was sneakily complex.  The entire neckline and shoulder strap was one large and unusual shaped continuous piece that took copious amounts of pins, patience, and expertise to make correctly.  The pleating needed precise marking at the cutting out stage and lots of ironing afterwards.  Happily, I didn’t have to deal with much fitting issues – according to my tissue fit and preliminary measurements, this mystery mail order pattern ran one size smaller than what was listed, and I was correct.  Other than having to adjust this jumpsuit’s slightly long torso, it turned out pretty much perfect for me as it was straight out of the envelope.

Split skirts have interesting construction, especially when they are pleated like this one.  They also make for very large pattern pieces!  The deep pleats that meet at both the center front and back hide the crotch seam and make it look like a skirt.  I figured correctly that it made a better box pleat to sew the center fold-line together from the inside rather than just top-stitching the creases down next to one another, as the pattern instructed.  Depending on how much wear this jumpsuit sees, I might come back later and embroider on some “arrow heads”, the proper (and beautiful) way to stabilize the ending point of a pleat to prevent or stop a hole from forming in the fabric.

I normally hate box pleats in skirt backs because they rarely stay looking nice between sitting and everything life calls for, but a good hot steam of the iron keeps them pretty good.  The box pleating in the back was a lot more challenging than the front, needing much hand stitching, because of the center zipper running through the middle.  You are basically trying to have a fold line end right where the edge of the zipper teeth are!  I made sure to have a bit extra ease in the fit because if something like this fit snugly the back pleats over the zipper would not come together at all and only pull apart.

A border running above a hemline is rather conventional, so my favorite part of this jumpsuit is the way I have the embroidery border wrap around the neckline, too.  It really balances out all the interest at the hemline, in my opinion, and brings just enough attention to what might be lost otherwise – the fabulous strap design which is the closing method.  This jumpsuit has wrap-over-from-the-back straps, pretty much like overalls, that end as wide, cornered tab closings on the front of the bodice.

The pattern called for buttons to close the shoulder tabs, but they are the only thing holding up the 2 something yards of fabric in the skirt.  Thus I opted for two strong sliding hook-and-eyes to close each strap…but with the back zipper I really could have just sewn the front tabs down permanently and not had them workable.  Oh well!  It’s always way cooler to have the tab closings actually work, and at least I know what garment to raid if I ever need some last minute notions for another project.

The open, eyelet-style embroidered border presented several creative challenges.   First off, the dress’ neckline and straps needed a facing to complete the eyelet without making it obvious the openings in the embroidery designs were being filled in.  The only answer to that was to make the facing a similar weight plain white cotton, and interface it in likewise cotton interfacing, as well.  Secondly, after completely hand stitching the entire neckline and shoulder straps and tab closings, I was bracing myself to do more of that to the hem.  However, the hemming was easy once I just figured on following along with what was already there.  Then I was able to use a close zig-zag stitch (much like a loose button hole stitch) on my sewing machine and just follow along with the scalloping of the bottom to the border.  I’m tricky like that!  Hubby shook his head at me like I was cheating out of doing the hem right – but hey…I’ll save myself both time and bodily misery where I legitimately can.

Speaking of misery, in order to give my culotte jumpsuit a ‘test run’, I wore them over to frolic and play in my parents’ backyard (the backdrop for our pictures).  Yup, my new jumpsuit is certainly great for jungle gym climbing, puppy dog chasing, and general child level play!  However, my ‘test run’ (watch it here) sure caused me so much achy arms and tired legs for the next several days afterwards!  I suppose I need more play clothes like this if only to have a reason to exercise while having fun like I did that day.

City Wildlife

January is the depths of winter here and right now we are getting bombarded with frozen precipitation.  Yuk…this is not ‘my thing’.  As an August baby, I need a reason to remember the warm days when I could wear my favorite skin-baring sundresses!

I have not forgotten late last years’ beginning of my “Indian Summer of the Sundress” series, and so I’d like to add another installment to it with this post.  I figure it might help those of you in the depths of winter like me as well as inspiring those in the warm weather at the opposite side of my location!  This time I have a ‘modern-does-late-mid-century’ look in an animal print maxi.  It’s a properly classy yet subdued unruliness made to visit the animal and human wildlife for an event in our city zoo over this past summer.  Happily, a giraffe was more than willing to oblige to be in the background of some of our pictures even though I am wearing leopard (these big cats can be their predators in the wild).

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a super soft quilting cotton print fully lined in your average soft cotton unbleached muslin

PATTERN:  Simplicity #2180, year 2011

NOTIONS:  all I needed was a lot of thread, a bit of interfacing, and an invisible zipper, all of which was on hand

TIME TO COMPLETE:  about 15 to 20 hours went into making this dress; it was finished on August 25, 2018

THE INSIDES:  full lining means, “What seams? I don’t see ‘em.”

TOTAL COST:  As this has project idea been sitting in my stash for a while now, with the fabric bought a few years before that, I’m counting it as free by now.

This dress has been on my “to-make” bucket list for about 5 years now.  I remember it was one of the projects I wanted to tackle in the early days of my blogging, yet some of the details to it intimidated me at that time, so it got shoved to the back of the queue.  No longer!  However it was a good thing that I did put off making it because this sundress was challenging…not so much to make, just to fit and tweak to point where I am happy with it.  None of my changes are really noticeable when you look at the original design, though, so they are nothing major.  No, I wouldn’t do that to it – I love the style lines too much to really change them!

The back bodice triangular tied-together style is something I’ve seen again and again in mid to late 1950’s extant vintage dresses for sale at shops online.  I enjoy the fact that it is revealing yet you can still wear conventional brassiere under it!  It’s not like being completely backless but it sure gives off that air…so sexy with its teasing!  I can’t tell from the pictures whether or not the true vintage dresses really tie or are sewn shut in imitation.

Nevertheless, to make things easy for myself, I made the center back of my dress sewn down together.  The pattern calls for a tie back, but that sounds fiddly to me besides possibly creating a knot for me to sit back on – ouch!  I also didn’t want the complexity of ties to cover up the back design because I think the simplicity of the back is just beautiful.  It’s also perfectly airy for a hot summer day.  For my fix, I merely corrected the angle and left off the tie straps, which originally were and extension of the neckline facing.

I did not like the original neckline finishing though.  It was too wide and appeared stifling compared to the rest of the dress.  So I made my facing half the width.  I like the slightly more open neck and low key element to my version of the neckline facing.  However, I did have to slightly customize the shape of the front neckline because the bust (cutting out what should have been my ‘correct size’) turned out quite large in the chest.

To aesthetically correct the generous upper bust, I made two cross-bias darts that end at the upper bust and come out of either side of the bottom center neckline front.  This fix is something which is a fashion dart in my old tailoring books and you don’t see it on many garments.  Only (boo hoo!) it blends into the fabric print.  It takes out the excess right where it was at yet changed the neckline facing into something slightly more angular.  The original design has the neckline quite high with the wide facing and boat neck wide in style.  Personally, I like my version better (no surprise) but it was all just alterations I made along way of the construction process…in other words not planned ahead of time.  It is amazing how little ‘failures’ are only opportunities for happy creativity which makes things better you’d than hoped!

Now, the back bodice might be a 50’s element but the rest of the dress makes it seem more 1960s to me.  The long slim skirt with gathered waist and the high banded middle distantly remind me of Audrey Hepburn’s black Givenchy dress from the movie “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” of 1961 (it’s my big hat – see picture below – influencing my perception, too).  Ever since that famous costume, early 60’s fashion had recurring but occasional long slim skirts to dresses, especially when circa 1964 combined these with an empire waist for a resurrected Recency Era fad, thanks to the creations of Norman Norell (see the “Josephine” dress), the great Dior, the innovative Bill Blass (then working under Maurice Rentner), and Mod Mary Quant.  These designers made such a silhouette the mark of high fashion.

This sundress’ skirt is really very straight rectangle on paper, and only appears a lot slimmer than it is when my legs are together or one knee is jutted out as I shift weight when standing.  I actually went up two size larger than my size because I didn’t want this dress to be too confining to walk in.  The above-the-knee slit helps movement freedom (and adds to the sultry aura of the dress, certainly) but I don’t want to rely only on that…I like my sundresses to both look nice and be ready for moments of family fun!  I was able to ride the jungle animal themed carousel ride with my son that day, but only side saddle for fear of ripping the side slit sky-high!

As the printed cotton was ivory (light colors tend to be see-through) I took the extra time to fully line the inside of the dress and it was so worth it!  It makes dressing in this so much more simplified not needing a slip, besides so soft on the skin.  I like a good layer of natural fabrics during summer, it wicks away moisture and breathes unlike any polyester, so I don’t mind doubling up on a good quality cotton.  Besides, the inside looks so professional even if it is just your average muslin lining!  Sandwiching a perfect invisible zipper up the side between the layers and matching up all the horizontal seams was tricky, though.

At first, I was afraid my outfit would be a bit “too much” but I had a happy time in comfort, received lots of smiles and a few compliments from passer-bys, and stayed classy despite my day in the hot sun wearing my sundress make.  I can’t wait to get more wear out of this sundress as soon as our weather turn balmy again!  It’s funny to realize I never used to enjoy animal prints as much as I have in the last few years, but when I do use them, for some weird reason it always tends to be leopard!  I have a Dior inspired late 40’s wool coatdress with leopard printed flannel accents which I plan on making this year, so my habit of using one kind of animal print doesn’t seem to be changing anytime soon!

There is an interesting article I’ve read recently called “The Trashy, Expensive, and Contradictory Reputation of Leopard Print” and as much as I enjoyed the info it made think about why I tend to leopard.  Strangely, it’s not because I feel any of the stereotypes associated with it – power, exoticism, eroticism, punk, or glamour, probably why most of my leopard print makes are relatively tame.  I think I like it because I see it as a mere print, more like a curious twist on polka-dots, even though I know it is the natural camouflage of an animal skin, to a wild cat that needs respect and protection.  So there – either I’m admitting to a watered down mentality, or I’m fully duped by fashion idea of leopard, or perhaps merely admitting to agree with Dior (which makes me cringe a little to say, but that’s for another post).  He used leopard print as a “house motif” and mainstreamed the usage of it as more than an unnatural item and not just a fur (continuing the practice to this day).  Since such a print can be found on practically any material nowadays (thanks to advancements made in the 1930s) – from cotton to faux leather and scuba knit – my mind is so far removed from the actual idea of the real fur…don’t know if I’ve ever seen real leopard clothes nor would I ever want to buy or wear them (and probably couldn’t afford them, anyway).  Dior is quoted as saying, “If you are fair and sweet, don’t wear it.”

What side are you on when it comes to animal prints, because I realize I am some weird in between…I like wearing fabric based fashion reproductions but they by no means are my favorite nor do they garner my repugnance.  It is good on an occasional basis for me.  Do any of you animal print lovers also favor leopard like me?

…a Bit Beatnik

Rebellion and resistance seems to extremely popular – with movies, with culture, with the arts, and as a word or idea.  From the Rockabilly crowd to Punk fashion, from “Star Wars” to “Mutiny on the Bounty”, and “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”, rising up against the norm never seems to be any less retold and repeated today.  The mid-century of the 1900s seemed to be ripe with unrest, but I’d like to focus on the free-spirited and artistic Beatnik culture with my newest make dated to 1963.  After all, we do have Beatnik to thank for reviving the popularity of wearing vintage styles! More on that later…

This is my November make for my monthly pledge for the “Burda Challenge 2018”.  Next up to match this blouse and give me a full vintage-style Burda outfit is the “Waistcoat Bodice Dress“ for my December project!  The model picture does show the two worn together.

The pants you see with my pictures are my 1974 knit jeans (post here) to amp up the casual and alternative style, but really this blouse goes with so much – jeans, skirts, and especially my purple 40s pants!  A beret hat is essential to the Beatnik style, and mine is me-made from a vintage 1934 pattern (post here).  My shoes are true 1960s vintage beauties as well as my earrings.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a 100% cotton paisley print lined at the cuffs and collar with burgundy satin

PATTERN:  Burda Style “Vintage 1963 Anita Blouse” pattern from “The Sixties Style Kit”

NOTIONS:  I only needed plenty of thread and 10 vintage buttons

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This took a lot of hand-stitching and detailed work, so I lost count of time but I’m guessing I spent about 30 plus hours to make this over the course of a week.  The blouse was finished on November 21, 2018.

THE INSIDES:  All French seamed except for the grey bias tape over the bottom hem

TOTAL COST:  I’m counting this project as free since it’ fabric has been in my stash for a good number of years and everything else was on hand!

Beatnik subculture is loosely defined as both a media stereotype and a generational literary movement between the mid-1950s to mid-1960s.  The term “Beatnik” is said to have been coined by Herb Caen of the San Francisco Chronicle on April 2, 1958 and its expansion paved to way for the hippie culture of the later 60s.

What I find the most curious about beatnik is the influence it had on fashion through music.  One of the leading figures of the Beat Generation, Allen Ginsberg, an American poet/writer, was a close friend of Bob Dylan and the Beatles, two of popular Beatnik musical performers.  The Beatles supposedly even put the “E” in their name because of Beatnik and Beat writer William S. Burroughs was on the cover of their album Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.  Their iconic, gaudy vintage-style military uniforms for that album were only a small part of the new awakening to reaching for past styles to standout, be unique, and express oneself that we have today.

Beatnik wanted nothing to do with anything that had to do with the eras of their parents, the 40s, and 50s and had no taste for designer trends.  The styles of the 1860s to 1890s, only 70 to 100 years old back then, were coming back with the ruffled neck shirts (of Edwardian times for women, early 1800s for men) being one major beatnik movement interpreted with my Burda Style make.  When you turn the perspective, this isn’t too different from what the vintage community of today does – garments from the 1910s, 1920s, up to the 60’s are still extant, and bought and sold to both wear and appreciate but the 70’s, 80s, and 90’s are still mostly only being appreciated by those too young to remember them.  When the London “Granny Takes a Trip” store opened in the mid-60s and stocked it with second-hand, outdated clothes, the Beatniks welcomed it and a whole new “thing” had begun.

The late Beatnik trend of the ruffle blouse was not just popular because of the big names that were wearing them, but also because they were seen as a unisex item, pretty much the first of its kind.  It was part of “Granny Takes a Trip” and the artists and writers of the Beatnik trend to focus on inclusiveness and loose sexuality.  However, the limelight did help the ruffled blouse popularity.  For the Rolling Stone’s concert in Hamburg 1965, much of the crowd was said to have been wearing ruffled neck tops, and for their “No Filter” tour just last year (2017), what do you know…Jagger is wearing ruffled neck shirts for a few of the performances.  Jimi Hendrix’s famous scene when he set his guitar on fire at the 1967 Monterey International Pop Music Festival made history in a ruffled neck shirt.  More inspiration can be seen in Burda’s collage photo.  A recent Royal Mail stamp from 2012, commemorating contribution to British fashion by designers, even features a ruffled neck blouse for the 60’s!

The paisley print in my blouse is a trippy sort of psychedelic prefiguring the later 60s, yet it is in the rich, darker, subdued colors that the Beatnik trend preferred.  The busy print calls to mind old textiles and the Kashmiri “cashew print” seen through the later 1800s.  “Granny Takes a Trip” did re-fashion Industrial Era clothes and tailor garments from precious antique items (such as a William Morris tapestry)!  Many times blouses like these are loosely referred to as “Artist” blouse, “Pirate” shirt, or even “Romantic” because of the tendency to think of the covers of a cheesy paperback romance novel or of Jane Austen gentleman.  It sure does have an idealistic, bold, flair with its excess of details, in my experience with wearing one now!  The deep burgundy satin I chose for the underside of the collar and the cuffs adds of luxurious flair that reminds me of the jewel toned velvet suits of the era, or some sort of masculine loungewear of Victorian times.

This pattern was quite exhaustive in complexity, and you certainly can’t rush making this design, but I revel in succeeding with the fine points of sewing.  I took time to make sure the chest ruffles laid flat and stayed in place otherwise I knew this blouse would end up feeling like it had a fussy, built-in bib!  Each ruffle had its own draft, cut on the bias and folded in half with its own length in different measurements from the others, so everything had to stay clearly labelled until being stitched down…which happened to be the very first step.  I serged (overlocked) the raw edges of each of the neck ruffles to keep things clean and simple, with as little extra bulk as possible.  Then, I stitched down each ruffle edge in three rows ¼ inch apart, and lightly steamed the gathers down.

As if that is not time consuming enough, the invisible button placket also has to be finished before the real body of the blouse is assembled.  These are tricky, fiddly, things but this is the third one I’ve done through Burda (first here and second here) so there it was much less of a guessing game this time.  More or less the left side is a very basic shirt placket while the other (right side) gets accordion pleated four ways.  The right placket is two individual plackets cut as one.  The middle line is folded in on itself to cover the seam allowance and be stitched down “in the (seam) ditch” before you fold the inner (second) placket half (which gets the buttonholes) and also stitch that down through all layers.  As the final touch, whether it’s mentioned or not in the instructions, I find the two placket layers become one to sight if you tack (by hand) the two together along the edges for only one inch between each of the buttonholes.

Besides the preliminary machine stitching to attach the plackets to both shirt fronts, everything else where the shirt closes I did by hand.  This way I can be more precise with catching all the different seams and layers, in addition to making the thread invisible.  Finally, only then were the darts made and shoulder seams brought together so that the collar and sleeves can be put on.  I figured if I’m putting this much effort into this blouse, it deserves the extra effort to be done very well.  This is why I also top-stitched the collar and cuff edges by hand, too.  The finished look is so professional!

These sleeve cuffs are so over the top…and I thought the 30’s and 40’s had dramatic arm features!  Including the ruffles, the cuffs are 1/3 of the length shoulder to wrist.  Keep this into account when you’re making it or if you need more length, because I was thrown off before the cuff was added.  I thought I cut too short!  The most challenging part of the cuffs was to make sure the ruffles stay out of the way of the seams when you are stitching down the underside (before you turn it inside out).

Now, as for any Burda Style pattern, printing and/or tracing is necessary to have a usable pattern to lay on your desired fabric.  My pattern was traced from the inserts in the magazine issue, and this set of 60s patterns is a special edition publication not available through the monthly subscription, but most other patterns are available online as a downloaded PDF that needs to be printed out and assembled together.  What works best for me is to use a roll of thin, see-through medical paper to trace my pieces out.  It’s at this preliminary step that you pick out your proper size.  Some people add in your choice of seam allowance width directly to the pattern while some as they are cutting out the fabric pieces.  A scissor with a magnetic ruler guide helps immensely to quicken along the step to getting a finished pattern prepped.  Sorry to repeat something you might already know, but this is just an “FYI” for those that don’t.

Overall, I am so impressed with the quality of this pattern.  This is probably the best Burda Style pattern I have used yet.  Some Burda patterns are quirky in fit and the instructions can frequently be either lacking or confusing.  Not here!  The sizing was right on too, and it comfy to wear.  The body shape for this blouse is very straight, and the darts are only ½ inch (or less).  I did grade up a size (as I normally do) for my hips and it looks great tucked in or left out.  I kept exactly to the pattern for everything except the button placement.  The cuffs are so wide and frilly only one button is not enough to close the sleeve ends – I have two per cuff.  I also added one extra button at the very bottom of the blouse front just above the hem.  It makes the blouse look more put together when it’s untucked.  I have a whole jar of the vintage grey buttons I used so I was favoring excess, but more buttons do help this design – a small complaint!

It’s not that I’ve made this blouse because I really love the music of Beatnik or the culture…I don’t really.  However, I do love to explore different styles, and I love a sewing challenge, especially one that gives me an in-person reason to wrap my head around a curious aspect of history.  This is an era that my and my husband’s parents lived through as late teens/early 20 somethings after all!  My mom has even said she had a ruffle blouse very similar to mine when she was growing up…I believe she said it was something she bought at Macy’s in New York City on a high school class trip.  So – maybe I’m just a fashion rebel at heart to go for what tickles my fancy and create this unusual blouse which relives my parents’ times, but maybe that’s just why I like it.  Sewing does convey a certain independence, a personal freedom, and an appreciation of details that is in the face of the powerful, overwhelming, ‘buy it on a whim to immediately toss it’ ready-to-wear culture of today.  This is my favorite kind of rebellion, one that we need to encourage and nurture today between each other and in the upcoming generation.