Eggshell Blue Bow Dress

Mod 60’s fashion is not automatically associated with a sweet and feminine style.  Yet, when on occasion it is juxtaposed with the ‘baby doll’ trend, you end up with a very serious, no-frills, freshly classic take on something overtly pretty – a nice combo.  The Netflix show “The Queen’s Gambit” presented a version of this style to perfection with Beth’s bow dress in episode 6.  Of course, I was then on a mission to find a historical benchmark for the outfit, and have since found a true vintage pattern from which to replicate my own version.  This is my second “copy” of an outfit from “The Queen’s Gambit” (my first one is posted here).  Being made in a luxurious wool crepe and in the prettiest pastel tone, I think this is the perfect outfit to present to you now for our chilly Eastertide.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a worsted 100% wool crepe with the black contrast being 100% rayon crepe lined in satin finish polyester interlock jersey

PATTERN:  Simplicity #6634, year 1966

NOTIONS NEEDED:  one long 22” invisible zipper for the back closing and lots of thread with a bit of interfacing for under the neckline contrast

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This dress took me 15 to 20 hours of time.  I finished it up on February 27, 2021.

THE INSIDES:  cleanly bias bound

TOTAL COST:  The fabric was $35 for two yards from this Etsy shop (highly recommend!).  All the contrast fabrics are being counted as free since they came from small remnants leftover from other projects

My mom made all of these!

I specifically chose my version of Beth’s bow dress to be a soft blue versus the original mint green.  In the Netflix series, mint green is the color of Beth’s childhood and when worn by her as a young woman it connects her to certain events as she is struggling to find herself.  The prevailing color of my childhood was a different pastel hue, and slightly cooler in tone – soft blue.  I have a small portion of my childhood dresses on hand, and a good number of them are a pretty blue (see picture).  I felt feminine in blue, and I personally sense it compliments my skin tone more than pink, which I have grown to love more in the last several years.  Before the 1940s, blue was traditionally considered to be the more feminine color over pink, after all.  Besides, I have other mint green dresses that I love and could never upstage (see here and here)!

Fashion historian Raissa Bretaña fact checks “The Queen’s Gambit” outfits in this excellent video (watch it here) at Glamour magazine and the mint bow dress is included (skip to the time of 6:02).  Raissa Bretaña agrees this outfit is pretty accurate except for maybe the lack dark stockings or tights, which I added for my iteration.  Happily, as I was searching through pattern images online one day, this particular pattern showed up and I instantly recognized it as a very similar base in seamlines, contrast details, and silhouette of both body and sleeves to Beth’s bow dress.  The story is set in the late 60’s during episode 6, and the inspiration for Beth’s bow dress was 1966 to 1968, so this particular pattern hit the right spot.  I love happy circumstances like this where what you are looking for falls in your lap…only this kind of thing is always a challenge with vintage patterns because it is gamble to see if one is for sale.  As you can tell, I found one and couldn’t be happier with my finished dress!

The original version of this dress (which can be seen in an online exhibit here through the Brooklyn Museum) was crafted in a crepe (click on the info button).  A wool crepe has more body than a rayon, so I went with that because I thought this needs to be winter dress.  It should be a flowing dress but being inspired by the likes of Pierre Cardin means that it should also have a bit of structure, too.  I splurged for my dress and ordered something special I have been wanting to try – worsted wool.  I personally find worsted spun to be less itchy than a regular woolen, and a crepe finish is so very dressy with its soft shine and pebbled texture.  I love this fabric.  Worsted wool is considered stronger, finer, and more substantial of a fiber coming from long-staple pasture raised sheep.  Worsted wool is more expensive on account of the labor intensive production – it is not simply carded like other woolens.  I find it didn’t shrink much in a cold water wash and needs hardly any ironing more than a touch of steam (very low maintenance).  I am a worsted wool convert.

The dress itself was relatively easy to make.  The pattern is pretty basic.  The wool was as soft as melted butter to sew through.  As I was using a fine fabric and the pattern had such clean lines, I took extra time on both the finishing details and the fit so my dress would look first-rate.  I did have a few issues with the sizing and placement of the bust darts.  At first, at the cutting stage, I had graded in some extra width to be ‘safe and not sorry’ later.  By the time my dress was finished, I ended up tailoring out the inch or so which I added.  Oh well.  The bust dart was tricky to perfect because it was an unusual curved, very long, French style one that joins the side seam below my hip.  This different French dart creates a beautifully simplistic front panel with gentle shaping.  I think this is the best feature to the dress, yet it’s only a very low-key element though. 

Lengths of both hem and sleeves ended up different than both what I had originally wanted and what the envelope cover seems to show.  I kept the ‘longer-than-your-normal-60’s-dress’ length because I think it makes my version of Beth’s dress more elegant and something not so youth oriented (like many Mod fashions).  I found the sleeves ending up as bracelet length, but I don’t mind this feature either.  They are very dramatic being so wide and bell-shaped, too.  I can clear off a table without even trying – it’s quite hilarious.  Nevertheless, these kind of sleeves are really quite part of the general flowing aura of this dress, I think.  Can I repeat myself, again…I absolutely love my newest Queen’s Gambit dress…it’s so different from my first one.  It’s remarkable how varied the fashions of the 60’s can be.

My chosen pattern was the shadow of my inspiration dress except for the neckline bow.  This was an easy addition but a bit complex to craft.  I wanted the black stripe only on one side of the bow strip.  The underside needed to be plain blue and not showing the stitching from the contrast stripe on the other side.  This is how it was on Beth’s original dress (I can see as she is running through the café) and I had to recreate that because I love a challenge.  Sewing challenges are a good learning experience to further my skills, and this time will go towards adding a deluxe touch.  

It is always a task in itself to try and figure out how to recreate proportions of details as compared to a picture.  I mostly just kept the bow’s width as wide as the neckline facing for uniformity.  I had to double the width and add in seam allowances because this was going to be a folded over, one seam tie strip.  Then I carefully marked the center length of only one side to the tie strip where the black contrast will go.  I chose not to line the bow so it could hang soft like the rest of the dress.  I thought of crafting the black contrast as a tiny tube, ironing it flat, then top-stitching it down in place on the blue strip.  It was an unnerving step to sew the entire blue bow strip together finally.  If the black contrast was stitched down in the wrong place, my life was about to be miserable.  I absolutely hate unpicking!  However, I turned the tube inside out and it was looking all good after a light ironing!  Whew.  I was so happy it was figured correctly. 

One small, extra cut of the bow strip became the center holder.  I have an extra-large safety pin from behind (inside the neckline) holding my bow down in place.  I do not want to wash the dress with bow on it.  Neither do I want to have to unpick threads before it needs a wash.  Keeping the bow unstitched makes my dress project easy to take care of as well as versatile.  I can wear the dress without the bow for a different look, but really – adding the bow brings this dress from a ‘meh’ to a ‘wow’!  Sometimes it is so amazing how one little added detail makes such a big difference.

For this dress, there isn’t much that needs to be added to it for a complete outfit.  The color blocking and the oversized bow takes most of the center stage.  However, what I am wearing to compliment my dress here make a big difference.  Slip on heels were an important part to the story of this dress for the occasion Beth wears it…she only had time to put on her shoes at the very last minute!  I updated the look with a modern pointed toe, block heeled version. 

Beth’s cuff watch is a small part to the storyline, too.  In a brief scene, she receives a Bulova “American Girl” watch from her (adoptive) mother as a graduation gift (also see this post for detailed pictures).  My 60’s era, two-tone cuff watch is from my Grandmother, as are my earrings, but it is my gold pearl ring which is a similar graduation piece.  My mother recently passed this pearl ring down to me, telling me it was the gift her mother gave to her for her Graduation in 1969.  I’m so glad it fits me because it’s so special to wear.  I’m connected to the past few generations of women in my family history just with my accessories alone.  How cool is this?  Then, I go and choose a color for my dress that recalls my own childhood fashion preferences.  I love this outfit for more than just the fabulous dress alone. 

I will follow up this post with my next one being about another ‘vintage’ childhood style that I am reinterpreting for myself today.  Yes, it is also in blue!  Until then, I do hope everyone has a beautiful, peaceful, and happy Easter weekend! 

Agent Carter’s Color-Blocked Slacks Suit

Slacks suits of the 1940s – when the blouse and the pants both matched as a set – are such an admirable yet interesting piece of fashion history which is under the normal radar what we think of WWII clothes for ladies.  No doubt it has to do with the fact they are an extremely rare item to find extant, especially with both pieces together.  They were an avant-garde statement of women’s empowerment.  They always have great design lines and wonderful styling when they are to be found either in person or in magazine images.

A slacks suit was nice clothing, and not just for working the garden or at a factory assembling war supplies like dungarees.  They were also day wear, or for home leisure, when they were out of nicer materials with finer details, but always practical by offering great ease of movement and practicality for the busy, multi-tasking woman of wartime.  Any way they were styled or worn, though, wearing pants was still not a societal accepted norm for women.  Many young women or ladies with confidence and a sensible disregard for public opinion took to such fashions.  It totally makes sense that a character such as the indomitable Agent Peggy Carter would wear such a thing when she came to sunny Los Angeles in 1947 (Season Two)!   What a better way for me to channel a 40’s slacks suit than to take cue from Miss Carter and make my own color blocked version!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a burgundy colored apparel weight polyester challis from Uptown Fabric shop on Etsy along with an old cotton knit t-shirt

PATTERN:  an adapted version of Simplicity #4762, year 1943, for the blouse; I acquired this pattern as part of a trade of vintage goods with Emileigh, the blogger behind “Flashback Summer”

NOTIONS:  thread, some interfacing, and a set of true vintage 1940s buttons out of the inherited stash of hubby’s grandmother

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The blouse took me 30 hours to complete, including the necessary re-sizing of the pattern.  It was finished October 30, 2019.

THE INSIDES:  cleanly bias bound

TOTAL COST:  All I needed was two yards and this cost me only $14

To make things a bit easier on myself –so I thought – I bought the pants RTW from a company that remakes vintage style garments (Unique Vintage‘s “Ginger pants”).  These pants are made of the hard-to-find, soft, and wonderfully sturdy rayon gabardine so I couldn’t resist them, especially as they have a true high waist, pockets, and a good 40’s style wide leg.  I love that these pants are the next best thing to something I would sew myself.  They are a saturated, true burgundy and I thought that should not be hard to match…boy was I wrong.

It took me a year’s worth of browsing every so often, both in person at fabric stores and over the internet (which is much harder to do due to screen variations), to find a color which would match my existing pants AND be a proper blouse weight material.  So many burgundy tones either were too blue toned, too red, or too purple and then the fabric was either a quilting cotton, a silky print, or a duck cloth.  I would have preferred a natural material, but sometimes ya gotta go with the best one can procure for sewing projects.  At least this challis is high quality polyester which is surprisingly quite nice and –besides the surface shine – really not an obviously man-made in content.  Occasionally that dream material is too hard to find, especially when I was so impatient to be able to wear my completed dream project!  The two different contents of the pants and the blouse play tricks on the camera in the sun, but in person and through pictures in the shade, the two pieces really do match up.

Speaking of another challenge in color matching, I also had a really hard time also finding a material to match the rest of my set which was a true dark-toned spruce green.  I was tired of the searching so part of this outfit is also a refashion.  I chose the practical “made-do-and-mend” route and used an old printed t-shirt from on hand which no longer fit me.  It was in the right color green, only a completely different fabric – a cotton knit.  I was thinking (rather hoping) that the contrast in type of material might be passable because it is a contrast color to the rest of the set as well.  Also, I do love a sleeve that is easy to move in.  Against my better judgment, I went ahead and used the tee for this slacks suit’s blouse…and I am pretty pleasantly surprised at how well this refashion turned out.

I kept the original sleeves as-is from off of the t-shirt and transferred them directly onto the new blouse I was sewing.  I cut out the front Christmas print because I liked it (and might applique it to a new tee in the future).  The majority of the back body of the tee went towards the new blouse’s contrast shoulder panel and under collar piece, while the bottom hem was used to lengthen the sleeves a bit by adding faux cuffs.  I interfaced the shoulder panel and the under collar piece because, being a rather thin and stretchy knit, I thought the green tee material needed to act and feel stable like a woven from the rest of my set for it to ‘fit in’.  It seems my idea worked well.  I was afraid that using a knit for the shoulder panel – the spot on a blouse which has practically the most stress from movement – would be a terrible idea yet between the interfacing and lining that panel with more of the blouse fabric…my blouse is staying in its intended shape.  The sleeves were the only part from off of the tee that I kept fully stretchy.

Between the knit arms and the full, gathered lower back bodice panel, I now have a vintage blouse which lends itself to some extreme butt-kicking wrestling moves, such as Agent Carter was wont to exhibit on men who needed an awakening at the hands of a woman.  Luckily the scene in which we see Peggy first wearing this outfit (“A View in the Dark” episode) was a very active one, and all the different angles shown of her slacks suit were very helpful in seeing what details there were.  Out of the TV series’ original outfit, I kept the small pointed collar, the dark green buttons down the front, the back blouse fullness, the combination of colors, and the general placement of the contrast color.

However, as I have done for all of my other Agent Carter “copies”, I like to both personalize the clothing according to my taste and base it more heavily upon historical accuracy.  My bought trousers align with WWII-time standards with smaller pockets, no hem cuffs, a side metal zipper, and rayon gabardine – the classic fabric for a slacks suit.  I started with a 1943 pattern because when the war effort hit the home front in full force, slacks suits began a strong showing in fashion catalogs and shopping magazines.  All I needed to do was make just a few tweaks to make my outfits closer to extant originals that have caught my admiring eye.

I feel so much better about trying to copy a garment when I change up the design according to my own ideas.  Doing so is my way of respecting the original artist that was behind the garment which is my inspiration!  Yet also, I do want to stay true to that self-realization of knowing what will look best for my body shape, height, and proportions.  I want everything that Agent Carter wears, yes – but I also want to like myself in them rather than forcing something which might not be ‘right’ for me.  This is the only way for me to naturally incorporate a bit of Peggy Carter into my everyday wardrobe.  I like to wear my Peggy outfits as something other than a special occasion cosplay item, but to each her own.  This is why I opted for a belted overblouse style to my slacks suit, unlike the way Agent Carter originally wears her set.  Just like her, I dare to be different!

My main 1940s inspiration sources were both color-blocked jackets (with skirts) and extant matching slacks suits as seen through vintage selling sites.  Many of these include burgundy color.  My favorite set is a 40’s “California Sportswear” set made in Hollywood monotone set, sold by FabGabs, which is remarkably close to Agent Carter’s TV one.  Otherwise, I drew heavily from the two-tone “American Spectator” blouse sold at Boswell Vintage.  I made a separate belt and added it to my blouse, then adjusted the look to match my inspiration.  I imitated the front (below the belted waistline) pleats of the blue hound’s-tooth overblouse and the full gathered back of the burgundy “American Spectator” blouse.

The detail of the button going through the middle of the attached belt is everything to me here.  It’s a sharp detail so very much in tune with the tailored 40’s era and complimentary to my waistline, a big plus.  It keeps the general idea of Peggy’s set with – dare I say – better details and a better classic 40’s sportswear air to it.  My blouse is sans faux chest pocket flaps because they struck me as a detail which might only become a fussy distraction.  Combining my smaller frame proportions with the faux belt detail seemed like just enough of a balance although I do feel lost in any outfit that is lacking true pockets!

Matched in both fabric and color, slacks suits were frequently color-blocked – no doubt because each piece would be easy to mix and match separately with other items in a wardrobe.  Like most clothing meant to be an everyday item or at least supremely useful, they do not survive like special occasion clothing, says “The Vintage Traveler” (as in this post here).  She had been highlighting her collection of slacks suits on her Instagram (see these fantastic sets).  The more I see of slacks suits the more I agree with “The Vintage Traveler” and admire how casual did not mean sloppy in vintage style.  Yet, such dressing – women in pants, in particular – has lost its novelty over years.  What was informal for back then now appears quite refined by modern standards, but at the same time what was daring then is now often only thought of as a conservative approach to everyday wardrobe staples.

True instance on many an occasion – my hubby tells me to be casual for running errands and I reach for my vintage sportswear.  Then he says he needs to dress up to match me because I still look so nice!  This slacks suit is my sharpest version yet of 40’s pants based sportswear and has no complaints when I channel Peggy.  Luckily I ordered more burgundy challis material before Uptown Fabric sold out.  My hope is to extend my slacks suit to have a blouse and skirt matching combo at some point in the future.  I love how I can make something killer but still have it versatile and practical at the same time when I sew vintage…especially Peggy Carter…styles.  Now I have something new in my arsenal of creations, another box ticked off – a 1940s slacks suit.

A Bold Upgrade to Your Modern T-Shirt Dress

Vintage styles are my preferred ‘look’, even for a comfy everyday outfit, but yet I do enjoy getting out of my comfort zone to sew up boldly individual fashions for myself in the styles of today.  I want to make sure I am in touch with today sufficiently to still enjoy modern designs here and there.  After all, although I do not follow ‘fads’, sometimes I can’t decide what decade I want to wear for the day and just want something that might remotely “fit in” for the 21st century!   Burda Style patterns are my preferred resource for my modern sewing.

This year I might just have a dress-down Mother’s Day in my newest Burda Style creation!  It is such a bright and fun version of the American favorite – the t-shirt dress – made in deluxe rayon jersey.  This is perfect for these quarantine times when I want to be put together without a lot of effort but still just as comfy as if I was still wearing pajamas.

THE FABRIC:

FABRIC:  100% rayon jersey knit, partially lined in poly power mesh

PATTERN:  Burda Style “Dress with Waist Yoke” #110 from December 2015

NOTIONS:  I just needed lots of thread and a small bit on interfacing.

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This was finished on May 6, 2020 and took me about 8 to 10 hours to make.

TOTAL COST:  I have no idea when or where or how long I’ve had this fabric, so let’s count this as a stash-busting winner and completely free, shall we?!

I have had my eye on this dress pattern ever since it came out, but had not yet come up with a way to highlight the fantastic seaming until now.  It was really a sudden revelation kind of idea.  You see, I have been going through my fabric and notions stash lately – taking account of what I have, what I might run low on, what I should put away, and what I will tackle.  All this is because of Covid-19 shortages of sewing supplies and the resulting impossibilities to shop in stores in person, but also a bit of “spring cleaning” is in my blood.  I am being as smart, sensible, and thrifty as I can lately!

So, in continual process of that organizational effort, I ran across this bright fuchsia rayon jersey and the navy striped rayon jersey both paired up together on the same bolt.  I didn’t realize they had been sitting out of my storage bins for so long.  Then, I suddenly thought of this Burda pattern, long forgotten in the back burner to my mind.  These two fabrics would be an unusual, experimental, and certainly eye-catching combo!  Never one to shy away from a risky project, as you can see, I just went with it.  Yes, I need crazy sewing projects to entertain me right now.

I do think this dress turned out quite well, much better than I expected.  However, I am not totally won over to a t-shirt dress, even when it’s this good.  I suppose I just need some time for this project to grow on me.  The jersey knit is so super soft and slinky – I am not used to how luxurious it feels.  Something this lightweight and weightless on my skin makes me forget what I have on…and that feels kinda wrong to a girl like me totally used to vintage fashions like the 1920s, 50’s, or even 40’s that demand a certain silhouette with the corresponding lingerie and dress padding for shaping that said silhouette.

To help me feel better about wearing this t-shirt dress and also use up my extra fabric, I did take some extra steps to make this both opaque and easier to sew.  I doubled up on the layers of all the dress pieces which have the fuchsia knit.  Rayon jersey is a super fine material and harder to sew than any silk, in my opinion.  It so very easily catches on even a small fray of my fingernails.  My first wearing of the dress created a few new snags.  This is just going to have to be part of the dress, but at least I didn’t mess up the fabric while sewing it.  One layer of jersey is quite sheer and hard to sew without creating holes (yes, even with a ball point needle).  Two layers of rayon jersey knit makes for a heavier weight dress but is much more manageable to turn into a design, more opaque to wear, and easier to place through my sewing machine.

I lined the navy striped knit panels in a nude colored power mesh.  Doubling up on this contrast fabric would only make the second ghost layer of stripes underneath appear weird.  The power mesh does an awesome job at helping to shape the most important, detailed sections – the bodice front and the left skirt flare.  There is an interesting panel under the top half of the side skirt flare to keep the skirt in its slim shape and prevent the pleated section from getting too overwhelming.  I really like the lining panel especially because it keeps the skirt from wrapping into between my legs (which can happen with any knit skirt which is full).

There is one piece that is not like the others, though.  The left waist panel I heavily supported with iron-on interfacing to keep all those gathers in check to the seams above and below it!  Luckily, this was just a small pattern piece because interfacing is almost impossible to come by today, right?!  However, I am very glad I chose to make this one piece stable.  Doing so helps define the design.  I am not exactly sure if a curved corner was what I was supposed to do instead of my very angled finishing but at least it matched up precisely to the other fuchsia skirt section over the center front (not an easy feat here!).   I rather like the angled corners because they match with the lines of the stripes.

I made the necklace myself, too! However, this is just one part to a full jewelry set I have made for a different outfit to be posted soon!

The pros and the cons of sewing this were about equal on the scales, I suppose.  Firstly, don’t forget – this was originally drafted in tall women’s sizing!  On the pattern tracing, I had to take out a horizontal swatch of two inches through the bust to make this work for me, but the jersey knit pulls the whole dress down with its weight so I could have taken out more still.  I did trace out the tall woman’s equivalent to my “normal” Burda size but ended up taking it in along the side seams by an inch or so because of the jersey knit super stretch as well.  The dress length I chose was originally in between the longest length option and the ‘short’ knee length option.  Again, the knit stretches and makes the dress longer than was expected, but I rather like the way it swishes around when I walk, so the length it is will be staying.  I left out the back zipper and opted for no closures as the knit is so stretchy.  There is no need for any hemming to the sleeves and the bottom skirt because this kind of knit does not fray.  Thus, in summary, choosing a knit for this design made certain parts easy (no zipper, no hemming) and other parts harder than necessary (cutting double pieces, adjusting the sizing).  You win some, you lose some, but as long as I have something so cute and wearable for my efforts my time was worth it.

The list of things I want to find time to make is already quite long and Burda Style just keeps coming out with super tempting releases lately to add to my list of sewing projects.  Their vintage reprints are especially enticing and in almost every issue recently.  I’m not complaining, but it does present a bit of a problem.  Anybody out there have ideas for an easy way to keep track of what patterns are in individual sewing magazines?  I have enough Burda magazines now that I need to figure out a way to organize the designs in them which I intend to sew.  I wish it was as easy to file them by garment category as it is my individual patterns in envelopes!   Any insight would be helpful.  In the meantime, I’ll just get back to my crazy quarantine sewing and cooped up cleaning efforts.  I may even do some of that in this post’s dress.  We’ll see.

Tribute to Emanuel Ungaro

Continuing my ascension in decades for my yearly Easter outfit, this year’s make was decidedly going to be from the 1990s.  This is an odd decade for me to handle as I was an awkward teen through most of it.  I, however, felt more at ease with diving into the challenge because this year my Easter sewing is a bit more personal.  It is my way of showing my deep respect for the life and talents of the recently deceased French courtier Emanuel Ungaro.  He will always be one of my favorite designers – I literally can’t look at his work and not sigh in admiration.  He worked and trained under all the other designers I so esteem.  Some outfits more than others, but especially his suits, are something to wish was on my back.  Yet, in every creation, I see and admire how he brought 80’s and 90’s couture up to an enticing, avant-garde form of artistic beauty.  They are bold but not garish, inventive but still wearable, and all definitely great confidence boosting fashion that I need to ogle over in our troubled times today.  I reached for one of the Vogue Paris patterns I have of Ungaro from my stash, and went about stitching out my own interpretation of his work.

I will admit, in imitation of Ungaro’s frequent use of mixed materials, I went out of my comfort zone (and common sense) to combine a silky crepe satin with a two-tone ombré shantung into a highly tailored-cut suit coat.  I was pretty much expecting either a horrible failure or a really good surprise.  I couldn’t tell, but a creative haunch drove me on.  Perhaps it was merely my desire to do something spectacularly useful with two one-yard remnant cuts on hand.  Either way, tweaked with the right padding, strategic interfacing, and hours of hand stitching, I think my experiment is at the opposite end of a disaster, happily!  The longer I stay in isolation, the bolder my fashion and sewing choices are becoming, which ultimately came in handy here.

I have several skirts on hand already that do match with my suit jacket so for now only that is a designer creation.  My skirt here is a decade old RTW item.  I might get around to making the skirt portion to this Ungaro pattern in the future, but not for right now.  I’ll confess to being dubious as to how the complex skirt would actually not distract or otherwise overwhelm the jacket, but I have faith in the designer’s vision.  All the paneling to the skirt is further calling me to color-block it, too, and I knew that might not match here…nor did I have more fabric to work with at this time.  So, I will be revisiting the 90’s and more Ungaro fashion soon, then, and experimenting with still more boldly ‘modern-vintage’ fashion designs!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a polyester ombré shantung together with a polyester satin (using the crepe side only) for the exterior and facings, with a 1990s original poly print as the lining material.  The inner panels were flat-lined for structure in a poly-cotton broadcloth fabric.

PATTERN:  Vogue Paris original #1842, year 1996

NOTIONS:  lots of thread, ½” shoulder pads, both a ¾” (for the sleeve vents) and a 7/8” (for the center front) covered button kit, and lots of interfacing

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This jacket was finished on March 28, 2020, after over 40 hours put into it

THE INSIDES:  What insides?…fully lined

TOTAL COST:  I’m not counting the light pink crepe, lining, and the notions, as they were all either practically free from a rummage sale or scraps on hand from years ago.  My only real expense was the shantung remnant picked up at my local JoAnn store for about $5.  Yup…this is a $5 designer jacket!

This Ungaro design seems as if it was MADE to be color blocked the way the seams line up for the side and under sleeve panels as well as the faux pocket flaps.  I shouldn’t have been so surprised but actually should have seen it coming.  It was Ungaro’s surprising color-blocked suits from the Parisian runways of the early to mid-90’s that I wanted to imitate with sewing my own version.  Yes, I know my actual pattern date is on the late end of his ‘trend’, but hey – I’m open to finding a way to appreciate the 90’s.  So, if this is the means, then I’m here for it (and I hope you are with me for this, too!).  Give it another 10 years, and this decade will be ‘vintage’ soon enough.  Ungaro stayed with the bold color-blocking trend for a good part of the decade (1990 to at least 1997 – watch this runway video).  I had some lovely scraps to use up and the color pink on my mind, anyway.  After being cooped up in quarantine around the house, I am further inspired by the blooming redbud tree in our backyard!

Happily, this pattern had been ‘used’ before but was ready to go and not missing a thing.  Someone had been ready to use this because all the pieces were cut out nicely, organized, and no longer in factory folds.  The sleeve pieces had been altered, folded 1 inch shorter – great for me because that was just what I needed anyways!  Most importantly, the pattern had a “Vogue Paris Original” label inside the envelope. These labels are a treasure that makes my garment so much more satisfying.  I am so thankful that this pattern’s previous owner (and seller, too!) had enough foresight to take such care of it, especially since there were 20 pattern pieces to deal with, too.

The back of the envelope sums up the jacket design as “closely fitted, fully interfaced and lined, above the hip (flared) jacket with button/buttonhole trimming, raised neckline, shoulder padding, side panels (no side seams), pocket flaps and long, two-piece sleeves having a mock vent.”  That about sums it up, yet the nuances that I came across while making this make it all seem an understatement.  That being said, I noticed right off the bat that it was listed as “closely-fitted”.  I went up one whole size and I do believe this is a great fit.  It is a tailored enough jacket that a bit of room – which I have – to both be comfortable and wear different weights of tops does not take away from the shaping which still complements the body.  Good shantung naturally wrinkles like the dickens, and for an ombré shantung, that is part of the beauty to it, similarly to a fine linen.  However, wrinkles which come from a garment that is too tight is another thing, and not preferred for this designer imitation jacket of mine.  It is so much easier to tailor in a few inches than try to add pieces or get creative because of the need to let inches out.

While a shantung – poly or not – has some structure, and the satin has next to none, neither is enough to become a suit coat!  Thus, the overall saving grace to this jacket was flat-lining every…darn…piece.  “The Dreamstress” has a fantastic terminology, how-to, explanation post here that lays out the process’ details and benefits far better than anything I could ever write.  When I made my Agent Carter “One Shot” suit jacket the year before, I quickly learned flat-lining was the only way to go with the perfect fabric no matter what its hand or content.  For that jacket, I found that a tightly woven, poly blend broadcloth provided the best combo of soft structure to make my supple, loose flannel transform into a rigid suit coat when layered with heavy cotton, starched muslin interfacing.

What worked well then worked wonderfully once again on my Ungaro blazer with a few differences.  As I was using fabric even more slippery than almost any poly out there, I did have to choose the iron-on interfacing this time, however.  I omitted pad-stitching the three layers (for each piece – fabric, interfacing, broadcloth flatling, in that order) together, as the poly fabrics I was working with did not have the loftiness of nap that woolens or flannels have.  In place of pad-stitching, I did hand tack the layers together along the seam lines, and graded down the bulky seams by cutting.  Suits are like a fine art that comes together in stages so complex it’s often hard to see the final result up ahead.

The instructions were amazing, and walk you clearly through each and every step.  In comparison to last years’ 1980s Givenchy suit, this one was every bit as detailed with the same advanced difficulty rating and yet it was easier in the construction, which I find so very interesting.  The prime example of this is with the sleeves’ mitered corner vents.  They are a part of the traditional two-piece suit sleeve.  The Givenchy pattern had several steps and some hand stitching to achieve the exact same end that the Ungaro suit sleeves engineered into a simple two-seam technique.

Seeing and experiencing this has made me respect Ungaro even more than before.  I do not know which method – Ungaro’s or Givenchy’s, if either – is the traditionally ‘proper’ way to do this common suit detail, but I appreciate the former for finding a way to streamline such a complex corner, with no difference in result than if you spent more time and took more steps.  That, right there, folks, shows Ungaro’s madly underestimated talent.  This is why I beg you to pick out a designer Vogue pattern to try for yourself.  You’ll thank me in so many ways!

I did go just a bit rogue when it came to the buttonholes.  I spent so many hours to make the windowpane buttonholes you see on the ‘good’ side of the jacket by hand.  It was draining but worth it.  I’m so glad there were only four of them!  So, for the inside facing, I made machine stitched buttonholes.  Again, this is exactly what I did for my Agent Carter 40s suit.  Doing so turned out great this time as before, gave a quick and clean way to finish the inner half of a bound buttonhole, and – most importantly – saves some of my sanity. It is hidden inside the suit after all.  Let’s face it.  No matter how much I love crafting suit jackets, after 40 hours of work on them, crammed into a week and a half, I start to become frazzled.  Yet, I always want to make sure such a work fully deserves that respected “Vogue Paris Original” tag which came with the pattern, so I know when and where to discreetly take a shortcut.  Larger 7/8 inch self-fabric covered buttons close up the front, while slightly smaller 5/8 inch buttons keep the sleeve vents together at the wrist.

This suit is the first time I have splurged on a bright, fun, patterned lining.  As I had about 6 yards of the material (estimated to be from the 90s or 2000s) on hand, and to continue the boldness of my pairing idea, I figured I’d go for it!  Yet, I thought ahead so that the crazy print would not show through the pink tone.  The flat-lining I used was a dark, opaque blue.  Yes, that made sure no seams would show though either.  From an aesthetic standpoint, it shades the light pink contrast a bit darker to unnoticeably complement the ombré blue in the shantung when it crinkles.

There are so many secrets inside a good suit coat than you could ever image with a casual glance.  This is why adding the lining to a suit jacket is always such an exciting, satisfying, emotional step to me.  It covers up all the evidence of precise engineering and well-thought out little background details that are the key to a successful suit coat.  This is both rewarding to have a clean finished appearance in one step, yet terrifying to have all your work be covered up, never to be easily appreciated from the self-explanatory way that only something visually seen can demonstrate.  At least I remembered to take a picture!

I really have to laugh at myself for loving this project.  Sure it is my favorite designer, but really – enjoying the 1990s…what have I become?!  I do love a good color blocked garment in any other era, I suppose.  This suit somehow has everything I love about a good *true* vintage one – wonderful hourglass shape, strong shoulders, a peplum to boot, and great details.

I knew this project was coming for this year’s spring so I had time to be choosy about which pattern I would go with, though.  I went through a lot of very unappealing designs on the way to this perfect find.  You see, ever since I started with the 1920s for my Easter outfit of 2013, I have been ascending in decades with what I sew for Easter every year.  Only since hitting the 1970s have I chosen to make suits.  Thus, once I catch up to our current decade, I do believe I will go back and make a suit from all those eras I only made dresses for, in case you’re curious as to my plans!  Yes, next year will be the 2000 decade and I have it all planned out already.  This yearly commitment keeps me experimenting outside of my comfort zone.  I had to keep it going no matter if there’s anywhere to go or reason to be fabulous!  I am enough of a reason to dress amazing, and once I slide this jacket on I just want to stay fabulous and linger in enjoying the power of a great suit.  Ungaro has unfortunately passed away from us, but I can make sure we don’t forget his talent by finding a way to bring his patterns from my stash to life!