Origami Neck Blouse

Just as you fold and manipulate flat, one-dimensional paper to create something magical and 3-D in the practice of origami, so too does the same thing happen with sewing.  You start with flat panels of fabric and fold, tack, and manipulate it into something that forms to envelope the body in the most fantastic way.

I know I’ve mentioned this opinion before, but this blouse’s post deserves to have it stated again – 1950s blouses really do have the most intriguing and unique details.  This top, with its mitered cornered collar that reminds me of origami folds, I saw as having a strong Japanese influence which I stressed by using a print for the placket which has bright and beautiful hand fans.  After all, it already had kimono-style sleeves (as they are called in fashion terms) and pleated bust darts which radiate from the neckline much like the “Rising Sun” flag.  All of that symbolism together into one scrap-busting project and now I have one lovely blouse that is both a wonderfully dressy-casual wardrobe addition as well as being an opportunity to learn more about another culture!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a solid burgundy red Kona cotton together with a fan printed quilting cotton

PATTERN:  Butterick #6567, from the Summer of 1953

NOTIONS:  All I needed was thread, some interfacing scraps, bias tape, and buttons (which were leftover from the buttons I used at the neckline of this movie inspired dress from the year before)

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The blouse only took maybe 4 or 5 hours to make, and was finished on May 14, 2017.

THE INSIDES:  all cleanly bias bound on the side seams with French seams for the shoulders

TOTAL COST:  Well, the solid Kona cotton was leftover from making this dress awhile back now, and the printed placket material was a discounted ½ yard remnant…so I can estimate that this blouse is under $5.  Pretty awesome!

As lovely as this turned out – if I do say so myself – what I am most proud of is the fact that this used up scraps.  Yes…a garment from seemingly worthless remnants can go towards something amazing and wearable!  I save pretty much everything that is leftover from all my projects, yet I do not count myself as a hoarder because I really do use that stuff up, as this proves so clearly!  The solid Kona was only about ¾ of a yard, and the placket was (as I said) a quilter’s fat quarter, but by turning the blouse pieces oppositely to mirror each other, and by piecing the placket strips together (you’d never guess, would you?) I made my idea work.  Blouses and tops with cut-on sleeves are so awesome for fitting in the smallest cuts of fabric.

Now, I can actually back myself up, historically speaking, with using the fan print for this 50’s blouse.  It was originally chosen to make both the most of a scrap and to explore understanding a culture other than mine.  (I have made a few Chinese inspired garments – here and here – so it was time to dive into Japan!)  However, I have found fan prints in some extant vintage 1950s garments, the best example being this dress sold on Etsy.  Interest in the Asian culture through fashion was extremely popular in the 1950s but unfortunately the decade was not differentiating between the nations nor appropriating appropriately.  Hopefully this blouse does a better job at that!

The collar area called for slow, exact sewing and my favorite, under-used technique…mitered corners! I was worried that between piecing the placket and interfacing it, the neckline would be too stiff compared to the soft Kona cotton but I think that is the point.  The stiff, stand-up collar is like a portrait frame for the face…I am fascinated with its unusualness and love the way the look of it changes at every manner it lays – open, buttoned, or folded back.  The envelope back description calls this collar style “…the newest cardigan look” “inspired (by) Paris”.  Hummm, I never heard of this, and sadly have not found any research info about it.  Neither does it exactly look like a sweater cardigan, and I do have a small collection of vintage 50’s ones to compare.  However, there is a more famous designer, or at least famous novelty blouse I should say, that does have the exact same collar with the mitered origami one of this post.  I’m talking about Hollywood designer Edith Head’s “Birds and the Bees” blouse offered through Dial brand soap in 1956.  This is 3 years after my blouse’s pattern date with no name listed for the collar style.  There is a new fashion terminology mystery here yet to explore and understand.

After it was finished, I was worried that my stash busting Japanese-inspired blouse would not match with anything.  However, I just need to wear bottoms with color – like my purple 40’s trousers (posted about here), my pink skinny pants (posted here), or a pink linen short A-line skirt (an old RTW item), or even some dark denims.  Usually I’m very conscious about my ideas for separates, making sure they actually are versatile and will pair with what I already have.  What’s the use of fulfilling an idea if it never is worn and enjoyed?  I disregarded thinking about that this time, and got lucky.

We took our pictures at our local Botanical Gardens’ Japanese Garden.  They have the most peaceful combed rock beds, and artful bonsai.  Bonsai, the artistic cultivation of small trees, is another one of the many wonderful traditions of Japan, but hand fans are much older to the culture.  Did you know that the folding fan was invented in Japan, with the earliest visual depiction date from the 6th century?  The Japanese believe that the top of the handle of the fan symbolizes the beginning of life and the ribs stand for the roads of life going out in all directions to bring good fortune and happiness.  Where would women’s history be without such a beautiful and practically useful invention!?

As the hand fan had eventually been universally adopted, many forget to think of the country of its origin.  The tradition of origami is so much more understood to be Japanese.  However, no matter what culture you are, it is still so universally enjoyed.  I think the art of paper folding is so special because it’s great to help people who don’t sew understand the art of creating with fabric and thread.  There is a form of fashion drafting that is called origami for a fantastic crossover, only it is one of the most challenging sewing imaginable (in my opinion).  Check out the origami sleeves on this Badgley Mischka dress!  However, it was Issey Miyake was one of the first designers to explore how origami could influence design.  The Spring 2009 collection by designer André Lima was also directly inspired by origami.  Art and garment design, form and functionality finds Zen through origami.

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Red Roses for a Vintage Style Lady

Admittedly, for someone that briefly worked as a florist, I’m not much of a real roses fan.  Don’t misunderstand, I regard them as simply beautiful, and when in quantity add up to a good day’s total at the cash register.  As a customer, though, they just wilt too quickly for their cost.  Even the outdoor bush and plant variety always seem to soon enough become sick or mutated and die in our yard, sadly.  Now I have the kind of roses whose beauty will last and make for a great deal!  Heck with the old song, “Red Roses for a Blue Lady”.  These are roses for a lady who likes vintage styles!

Here is yet another garment where I’ve repeated what I know I love in a project – channeling a feminine ‘Betty’ outfit from the television show Mad Men again (second season this time; other Betty dresses here and here) and also using a true vintage fabric (my most recent one here).  As good fashion never really goes out of style, I do think this dress has the same qualities as the costumes of Mad Men, period-appropriate but also timeless and fashionable even to modern viewers.  I paid attention to details like I had all the time in the world, and did tons of hand stitching, even adding seed beads, for a dress which is my own perfect Valentine’s Day treat!

My fabric choice is a pristine condition, polished, printed cotton from the 1950s (surmised from many recurrent similar extant garments of that era).  I found it as a lonely piece at a steal of a price thrown in the corner of an antique mall shop.  How could I just leave it with its saturated red goodness at that cost?!  So – a good fabric deserved a really great pattern…one that has intimidated me every bit as much as I adore it.  I came upon a find, I saw a perfect project in mind, and I have conquered it!  However, the finished wiggle shaping ends up making my body look like a very shoulder-and-hip-heavy hourglass ‘Joan’ silhouette that I really am not used to but am completely taken by nonetheless!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a true vintage cotton lined and contrasted in a solid black cotton broadcloth

PATTERN:  Simplicity #2727, a ”Slenderette” pattern, year 1958 (I plan on coming back to this and making the jacket, yet!)

NOTIONS:  The basics I needed were on hand – thread, interfacing scraps, a hook and eye – but the zipper (22”) and the beads I bought recently just for this as I realized exactly how I was going to detail it!

TIME TO COMPLETE:  It took me about 10 hours to finish, but I actually spent a handful of hours just on figuring out the pattern piece layout before cutting out…there was no room for error…or the pattern pieces, really…

THE INSIDES:  A fully lined dress means all inner seams are not to be seen…

TOTAL COST:  This vintage fabric was only 8 freaking dollars, people!!!  The cotton lining I received for free, and the beads were only $2.  So this is an under $10 dress!  Such a deal.

Why, oh why is it that the best fabrics I find seem to frequently come in small cuts?  It’s like some sewing Karma wants to test me at every turn and always make sure my projects are a challenge.  This rose fabric was in a ridiculously small 35 inch width (one of the reasons I can estimate the vintage) and was a hairs breath under 2 yards long.  Under the envelope back listing for 35” width fabric, it says I needed 3 yards for this dress.  Yikes!

The only way I could make things work was to piece together a full one side back bodice panel and to add a horizontal waist seam to what had been intended as a smooth center front.  The print is complex I do not think the extra seams are noticeable but I know they are there, nonetheless (well, so do you now).  The center dress panel change especially makes me a bit sad (seen or not) because I loved the streamlined look of it with one-piece, streamlined, princess-style drafting as on the original design.  Not too shabby of a compromise, though, and at least the lining was cut properly without extra seams!  Granted, every piece was butted up against one another when laid out, so it’s a lucky thing I did not have to grade up in size at all.  The skirt had to be shortened by about 5 inches and the kick pleat eliminated to make things work, so I was literally left with nothing but tiny triangles of scraps leftover.  Although stressful, even mind stretching, it feels so good to be super-efficient and determined with a project idea!  If there’s a will, there’s a way, as the saying goes.

I am glad I had put off tackling this sewing project until now when my sewing skills are where they are at.  The overall dress was not hard to make.  It was the detail points that were the challenge, which was a difficult one that I have not had in a while.  Luckily, I had some practice ahead of time to help me out on the trickier spots of this dress.  A few of the projects I have made already have had some of same the details I encountered in making my red roses dress when all of them were in one project.  The underarm bodice panel/kimono sleeve combined into one element reminds me very much of my 1955 Redingote, as does the belt attached in at a front waist dart.  The side paneled bodice shaping is just like on my recent 70’s style Burda jumper.  The pleats which cover up a seam, like the ones at my waist, are call to mind the pockets on my “Spring Green” Easter suit of 1954.  It is good to challenge oneself, but at the same time I want to stress it is beneficial to work up to that scary hard pattern by finding projects ahead of time which prepare your skills for a successful turnout.  A fruitful finished sewing creation makes all the difference in confidence and estimation of worth in time and effort.

The bodice panels turned out the best I’ve ever done yet, happily, thanks to knowing what to expect.  I do love the way such a design element in the garment provides the best ever shaping for ones bodily curves, besides being the most comfortable form of a kimono sleeve…better than one with underarm gussets.  Look for something similar to try for yourself – you will love the way it wears!  Only, I thought the bust for this pattern ran large until I put on the period-appropriate longline bustier.  Then, suddenly I had that curvaceous 50s figure and a perfect fit that put me in awe.  So, a word of warning – in a 50’s pattern, beware that their curving accounts for more than what modern women are used to with the lingerie of today.  Unless you are willing to try a different style of underwear, or unless you find such a design element in a pattern from another decade closer to now, the wonderful shaping which you will find with a bodice panel/kimono sleeve combo might be more than you expect.

Those front waistline pleats where the belt is attached were the toughest part to tackle.  It took me about 4 attempts to figure them out correctly…but just look at them!  They remind me of the interesting pleats which can be found on some 50’s or maybe 60s couture garments.  Two of the pleats that provide the slight hip poufiness are angled out and folded down.  The pleat that encloses the belt and bodice side panel seam is perfectly vertical and folded towards the other two pleats away from the center front…so confusing on paper but awesome finished properly.  The fabric makes it really hard to photograph these details as clearly as I see them.

I’m not complaining about this wonderful fabric one bit, though!  Modern cottons are sadly missing out on the lovely sheen which vintage polished cotton has, not to mention the saturated dying process that makes it almost reversible.  Yet, vintage polished cotton is a bit sheer and stiff on its own, thus another solid opaque layer was needed under my dress for a non-transparent and natural-bodied hand to the fabric.  Besides, I am silly and would rather make a whole second dress as a lining so as to have an impeccable, second skin finish inside…not just to cover all the seams but mostly to eliminate the fussy neck facings.  Having more than enough cotton lining gave me an opportunity to cut the dress out the way it should have been with no adaptations.

Except for the major seams inside, all else to this dress was hand stitched invisibly.  This has been the first garment where I really sense that my hand sewing skills have grown to be similar to my machine skills – accurate, fast, and efficient.  The lining is hand tacked to the zipper (which was also hand installed to the point it is as good as invisible); the neckline, sleeve hems (after a machine added ¼ inch bias binding), and skirt hems (after lace tape added to the under edge) hand finished.  Not that it matters – who else but me really sees inside or even gets close enough to notice the details?  Whatever.  It’s that choked-up, happy emotion I get inside seeing the unnecessary extra particulars so fine as I’m dressing.  It makes you feel special, and reminds me that the beauty inside a person, like a garment’s inside, although unseen, is the best part.

It’s these same sentiments and the urge to try something new that prompted me to add a bit of beading to the neckline.  Not that the neckline is not a statement in itself!  This is one of the best fitting boatnecks I have come across, and the little notched front heightens the neck and shoulder emphasis by centering under the pit between the collarbones.  I merely added some clusters of 4 to 6 seed beads at a rose center which might be near the neckline center top edge, with a few smaller 2 or 3 bead accents on some petal tips as shading.  I was tempted to go and add the whole package of beads so it would show up better, but there is something I love about the understated elegance to not going overboard.  I do not want gaudy or distracting details to subtract from the dress and its fabric, and the more I bead, the more there is pressure to turn it into some sort of defined design…then my beading skills have to be better.  I did attempt to make a simple 3-D flower out of strings of beads to add on the end of the back waistband.  It’s not perfect, but pretty nonetheless, and just the perfect touch if I do say so myself.

Vintage is admired and long lasting because of its understated quality and beautiful ingenuity…these are the details I miss the most in modern ready-to-wear.  So, if I can bring a small part of that back in my own life and be the example, then I am happy.  If I can remind others they are worth feeling good in their skin by a wonderful dress, and that creating is good for the soul, than my garments are beneficial to more than me alone.  Hopefully with the time, attention, and care I put in towards my dress project, this red roses vintage fabric will have a lovely new life for many more years to come!  I know this dress will be seeing more than just a Valentine’s Day wear!

The One Piece That Made Two

Refashions are just my recipe for having a great time at my sewing.  A slightly ill-fitting vintage 1980s dress came out from under my sewing machine a very fresh and fun 1950’s two piece set of a crop top and simple skirt.  One vintage era went backwards in time through my sewing to suit another era…what a time warp!

I do love a good summer-time-fun combo, and more separates that work well with my existing wardrobe are most welcome.  This is no exception.  If you follow my blog you may notice or might have read that I have a weakness for turquoise (and purple) so this set matches with so much!  Besides, it is really lovely floral that is like flowers scattered in the wind, in a basic white print…something I don’t have.  This fabric is so soft and semi-transparent, too, making this a cool, fun, and breezy set that’s put-together enough for dashing around the city in summer yet made for lounging around by the water.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  Well, it’s more than just fabric, really, since I started with a dress that that from the 1980s, but it is a soft cotton and polyester blend knit.  A remnant of cotton knit, leftover from this project, went towards the waistband of my new skirt.

PATTERN:  Simplicity #4213, year 1953, was used for the top and I self-drafted the waistband for the skirt

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This re-fashion project only took me a handful of hours and it was finished on May 29, 2015.

TOTAL COST:  Not counting – this was a special gift! Read on…

This the original dress before re-fashioning

The 1980s can be a hard era to re-fashion, especially with this dress.  When something is frumpy from the beginning, with a lot of extra fabric, it can be tough to envision anything else working better!  This dress was so worth it to save, though.  This was something from my hubby back when we were only dating in 2009.  I remember we were out and about in downtown on a bitter cold winter day after an early morning breakfast one Saturday.  I had on so many layers to stay warm that I didn’t first try on this dress that caught my eye in a vintage resale shop, but he bought it for me anyway.  As it was, it really didn’t do anything for my figure, so I didn’t wear it, but was determined to make it into something I would enjoy.  Thus, it was kept it on my backburner of my ‘to-be-re-fashioned’ queue until the right idea struck.  Well, it took a few years to get the feel of what I wanted to do with that 80’s dress, and a few years more to post about it, but here it is, finally!  When good memories are attached to what you are wearing, it somehow seems to make the current moments so much sweeter.  This is definitely not my most interesting sewing project, but to my mind, with the background history to it that I know, it feels so very interesting to wear.

Now, at first glance this set probably appears to be a dress, and I intended it that way.  You see I really wanted to keep the dress, well, a dress, but ideas for doing that were not popping in my head.  Besides, to make a divided dress that deceptively seems like a one-piece would be just as good, maybe even better.  I made sure the top was only long enough to reach the skirt when I’m standing straight and the waistband was wide enough to look like some sort of belt or middle cummerbund.  In all, I love this!  When I reach around it feels so subtly sexy to have a crop top, and wide waistband is great to wear and doesn’t roll.

The blouse/top pattern is labelled “Simple to Make” and boy are they ever right!  It was the perfect answer for my desire to leave as much of the original seaming intact.  Keeping with the kimono sleeves, the bodice was more or less only trimmed a little.  I re-cut half of the shoulders and side seams only, marking the darts after the skirt had been detached.  I left the neckline as it was because I love a V-neck for my face but did remove the sleeve elastic.  Then the top came together before I knew it and fits like a glove.  As the fabric is a knit, I am able to slip this on over my head without a zipper or any closure, which always surprises me every time I put it on.  The waist is so tapered in and defined!

For the skirt, I adored the triple rows of shirring at the waist, so I made sure to keep them.  They do stretch, since there is elastic thread sewn into the stitching, which is good because this is a pull-on skirt with no closures, like the top.  I chose 2 ½ inch wide elastic for the waist, and drafted the casing accordingly – double the width plus two seam allowances.  Then the empty casing was stretched and stitched on, the elastic run through it, and the opening closed up.  Easy-peasy!  I left the hem alone, so that is original to the dress, and also was able to keep the original side pockets that added to the appeal this garment had on me from the beginning.

I kind of feel bad for my hubby actually because this outfit reminds me of a conundrum.  He really likes me in what I chose to make for myself, yet he used to like to buy things for me, too.  Sewing for myself has completely cured me wanting anything from a store nowadays, and it has taught both of us to look for quality…which we generally do not find in ready-to-wear.  So – he really can’t buy me clothes anymore!  I make what I need and I like it that way.  I guess my dress re-fashion merely reminds me of a sweet thing he used to do for me that my current sewing practices (which I wouldn’t change) have curtailed.  Now, he is really getting good at picking out neat fabrics for me, though!!

Have any of you also found some interesting aftereffects to sewing for yourself?  Do you (like me) also find yourself unhappy with much RTW the more you find yourself pleased with how you feel in your own handmade garments?  Do you also find fabric so very inexplicably exciting, much more than buying a new outfit in the store?  Does your significant other or friends understand that wonderful “hooked on fabric” bug?  (If so, they’re a keeper!)  Let me know because this re-fashion project has made me ponder just how far I have come along in what I wear and who it comes from over the last few years.  At least with my sewing skills, I was able to hold onto a little bit of the past and continue to wear a good memory.

“Retro Forward” Burda Style: Kimono Jacket

Why is it that the nicer or the more unusual the fabric is, the more pressure there is to choose the perfect pattern to make something of it?  Sometimes this pressure can sadly prevent me from getting around to sewing projects I would want to pick up immediately!  At the same time, I do try (unsuccessfully at times) to avoid the stereotype pitfalls (such as copying the envelope cover, for one) and stay creative with my makes…true to my own tastes and ideas.  However, I cannot resist some killer vintage inspiration!  This perhaps sort of explains why I made the quick and sudden decision to use a very special and unusual rayon fabric to make a somewhat simple, unfitted, unlined jacket.  Sewing this had went against my normal practices for my sewing, but I love the outcome.

This jacket amazes me by the way I went from each end of the emotional perspective from its beginning being sewn to the final photo shoot.  I started out as very skeptical of the pattern and rather dismissive to the fact that it vaguely appealed to me, only because the sizing was for tall women (which is definitely not me).  Then, finding a Burda Style contest became the other enticement to try this pattern.

After the jacket was done (in one evening, mind you!), however, I was disappointed when trying it on.  Not that it didn’t fit and turn out great – I was tired, it was a late night, and didn’t know what to pair it with, nor did I know if it looked complimentary on me.  After a good night’s rest and a new perspective the next day, I happily found several neat combinations my jacket can be paired with (in this post, a “White House, Black Market” strapless brocade dress is worn underneath).  I finally felt justified for my time, effort, and sacrificing of my precious fabric with my going out on a ledge here.  Besides, I am still trying to have a good relationship in completely liking and understanding peplums, and how they do work on me.  This was like an “I’m getting to know you, peplum” project.  Now, I am actually a bit frustrated in a good way because I love my new jacket and want to find occasions and opportunities to wear it.  This is a good problem, though, I suppose!  Can’t let a new favorite just hang lonely in my closet, now can I?!  Especially not when it’s made of fabric like this!  (Pictures don’t do it justice, by the way.)

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  A 100% rayon, with a slight, soft, crushed wrinkle throughout.  It also has a dull metallic (like an oil slick kind of sheen) finish on one side with a crepe-like matte finish on the other.

NOTIONS:  I had the thread, elastic, and hook-and eyes needed on hand already.

PATTERN:  Burda Style “Short Sleeve Jacket with Plunging Neckline, #107, 04/2015“

TIME TO COMPLETE:  I only spent about 4 hours to whip this jacket together, not counting taking care of the pattern (tracing and re-grading).  It was finished on July 29, 2015.

TOTAL COST:  This fabric was bought on deep clearance when my favorite Hancock Fabric store was closing.  I bought 2 yards of this fine specialty fabric for only about $5.

The pattern for this jacket can be found in their May 2015 magazine, on the insert page for tracing out or at their online store as a buy-and-download printable PDF file.   It was originally part of the “Design Academy“ Collection” (one of my favorite Burda pattern collections! I have made 4 of them…), but then it was up for everyone to try and make to have a chance to be the new “cover” in their “2nd Ultimate Member Model Challenge”.  If you visit the page for the jacket pattern, you can see that I didn’t win.  Nevertheless, I have my own prize…I was prompted to make something I would definitely not have tried on my own gumption, something that I am glad I have to wear after all is stitched and written!

It is a pattern made in tall sizing, which is one reason why I dismissed it at first as I mentioned above.  However, I figured out the proportions for tall as compared to myself looking over their measurements chart and suddenly the sizing made sense.  What I needed to do was the opposite of the up-grading I’ve done for juniors’ designs – I add in 2 inches between the shoulders and waist for petite and juniors’ patterns so this tall ladies’ pattern needed 2 inches taken out instead, between the same spots.  Folding out one inch at a time in two different horizontal segments did the trick, at the chest and just above the waist.  I did also lengthen the peplum by about two inches as well so I would avoid having it too short to completely cover my hips.  I didn’t want the peplum to pouf out awkwardly, but it’s still so gathered, in the back of my mind, I secretly wonder if it really sticks out like some sort of ballet tutu anyway (so I think in the back of my mind).

Styling can be deceiving, but this is a ridiculously simple and easy to make jacket.  It is unlined, and there are only 4 major pieces to use.  The lapels are all-in-one with the front and only an easy facing finishes it off (I used the matte side for a cool contrast).  There is no expert tailoring needed.  It is comfy, loose and unstuffy yet looks put together and fancy in a nice everyday sort of way (meaning, it can look just as good paired with jeans and a tank or over a good dress)!  This is why I feel this pattern is a good opportunity to use a really nice fabric.  As much as I try to save those complex or even stunning designs for equally killer fabric, this jacket has convinced me there is another option.  Choose versatile and easy-to-make patterns which both will let the fabric shine and will see more use than that special-occasion-only jacket.  Besides, using a simple design makes things more fail-proof, somewhat…or so we can hope, right?!

Kimono sleeves always make for such an easy bodice assembly, great reach room, and complimentary curving for the shoulders.  Kimono sleeves in the fashion world necessarily have no direct association anymore to the traditional Japanese garment that it uses in its label.  Now a kimono sleeve is commonly meant to designate a sleeve that is drafted as one with the bodice, with no armscye, and a deep taper under the arm that usually ends at the waist.  This double interpretation is so ironic especially since the word “kimono” literally means thing to wear” or “clothing”!  As Kimono sleeves do offer a looser arm and bodice silhouette, they were a frequent feature used in many women’s garments of the 1950s.  This is why a 50’s suit jacket in a strikingly similar green was my main inspiration (as seen on the far left, below) which gave me the gumption to use my precious fabric.  It wasn’t the only one, however, the many other wide lapel, waist closure, kimono jackets and blouse-like wraps of the 50’s I was finding gave me the strong feeling that this is very vintage-inspired, which is why I am including this project in my ongoing blog series “Retro Forward with Burda Style”.  Peplums, too, were a preferred feature to the 1950’s when exaggerated hips were wanted to contrast visually with the tiny wasp waists women were expected to have.

However, at the same time, as I said, there is a blousiness to this Burda Jacket – a lack of the impeccable body fit that much of the 1950’s was all about.  So – I also see an influence of the 1980s and early 1990s on its style.  Technically, these eras are now over 25 years old, thus as weird as this feels to me, they are vintage now!  Peplums were also a feature of these two eras, most especially the 80’s, but the clothes in general were a lot baggier…even when they were generally fitted.  Suits of that time were not the impeccable outfit that you were supposed to sit pretty in.  They were unassuming and meant to move with you…the feeling I get when wearing this Burda Kimono jacket.  My preliminary inspiration might have been 50’s, but I think the 80’s and 90’s influence wins out here with the shiny, bright, almost neon green of my jacket.

The most challenging part of the jacket was figuring out the closure method for the double-breasted wrap-front waist.  Not that it was really that hard, either.  It’s just that the elastic gathered waist added an element of difficulty.  The waist seam made its own casing for the elastic when you sew it down, so luckily there wasn’t any more bulk than there needed to be and that was pretty simple.  I didn’t want buttonholes to pull on buttons, or snaps that could pop apart, so I used the most basic hook-and-eyes that I had (about ½ inch, large size 3) to make sure the closures wouldn’t get buried among the gathers.  I used the spring of the elastic to work in my favor here, because hook merely has to find the eye and I let go – the elastic pulls it closed for me!  The first inner hooking was easy because I just had to find a comfy fit around my waist, but with the overlapping second hook it was much trickier.  You need to keep a certain amount of the elastic to still stretch between the two closures to make the waistline seem evenly gathered.

I stuck to the casual feel of the jacket and left the inside edges raw and free, to do their own ‘thing’.  My reason for doing so at first was because I decided to add one more project to the sewing contest as well and I only had one more night to get it done.  Nevertheless, the fabric really doesn’t fray that much but for some weird reason, I – the perfectionist herself – actually like the soft, imperfect, and handmade feel of seeing and knowing those seams are left as they are.  Yes, as I said up at the top of my post…this totally is not my normal sewing practices.  You know, though, it feels good to change things up and gain a new perspective!

Making a style you’re unsure towards is hard enough, then to turn it around and actually find a way to have it work for you is a difficult and satisfying thing to achieve.  For a seamstress, taking the time to make a new style, especially when it needs a tricky size adjustment, or using a special fabric which would not be seen otherwise, is both a perk of sewing one’s own wardrobe and a scary challenge because it opens you up to the possibility of either failure or success.  Luckily this project was a victory, but if it wasn’t, I would have worked my way through it because an idea (and a good fabric) is worth it.  Keep those ideas coming everyone and don’t be afraid to make something out of that notion that popped into your head!  Nothing in the sewing world is off limits to have a crack at if you put your mind to trying and succeeding.

A 1958 Happy Ending Horror in Knit

As pretty as this dress might seem at sight, this beast was a nightmare to make.  Luckily there is at least a happy conclusion!  I do love wearing this – it totally feels like the best of a classic dress (in a vintage design no less) which is comfortable, feminine, handy (with the pockets), and oh-so flattering!  This is a faux asymmetric wrap dress reissue, first released by Burda Style in January 1958, very applicable and wearable for today.

I did have a different plan for how I intended this dress to turn out for this project but I felt it was best to listen to the fabric and leave what’s well enough alone!  I’ll admit that a good part of the problems I encountered here were because of my choice of fabric.  I hate the fickleness and frustrating delicacy of an all-cotton knit!  But that can’t take all the blame.  You see, I find Burda Style’s vintage designs to be quite problematic and almost always an exhausting near disaster that requires much fine tuning and the outlook of possible tragedy acceptance to turn into a success.  It’s not so much the fault of the garment design lines…I find the problem is mostly with the patterns’ ill assembly and poor sizing.  This is why I stupidly keep using Burda’s vintage designs – because in the end they do turn out a wonderful vintage garment with a modern, timeless feel!

A 1950s Dior-style flower, made by me as well from fabric leftovers of the lining, was sewn onto a clip and became both my matching accessory and color contrast.  My prized vintage style leather Miz Mooz heels tie in the retro feel and provide a neutral tan.  However, the blooming rhododendron bushes (behind me) at our towns botanical gardens sure made me realize that blue is more of a neutral color than I thought.  It pairs well with all the colors of spring!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  dusty blue 100% cotton knit for the outside, and polyester interlock to line the inside

PATTERN:  Burda Style #122, “Retro Style Dress” a 1958 design from January 2018

NOTIONS:  All I needed was thread and a zipper, both of which were on hand

TIME TO COMPLETE:  My dress took me about 30 hours, which is twice the time it takes me for a “normal” dress.  It was finished on April 20, 2018

THE INSIDES:  All raw edges are completely covered by the second skin interlock lining inside!

TOTAL COST:  Taking into account that the fabrics for my dress have been in my stockpile for maybe up to 15 years now, I’m counting this project as a free, no-cost, stash-busting success!

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 came from the monthly magazine issue, using a roll of sheer medical paper to trace the pieces out from the insert sheet, but if you buy from the online store, you download, print, and assemble the PDF file you receive first.  It’s at this preliminary step that I pick out my chosen size and add in your choice of seam allowance width (I normally add in 5/8 inch allowance), but others do this directly on the fabric as they are cutting out.  A scissor with a magnetic ruler guide attached helps immensely for adding on the seam allowance easily.  Sorry to repeat something you might already know, but this is just an “FYI” for those that don’t.  Now, prepare yourself for unbridled criticism in the form of a sewist’s horror story.

When I was making this dress, there were so many inconsistencies with the balance marks not fitting quite right and little areas everywhere that needed stretching in the ease just to have everything match up.  I do not necessarily think this was due to faults from my tracing out of the pattern either – I am usually so very precise about being ‘perfect’ at the preliminary stages to a project.  These pattern irregularities make me definitively say that this needs to be made with a knit.  I’m not talking about one with a high spandex content or one that is super drapey.  The model garment is I believe made using a wool jersey.  I can see a quality scuba knit even working out well here.  Either way, I would recommend choosing something with a nice body and a stable give to its stretch for this dress to be a success.  A knit will be more forgiving to the inadequacies of the pattern’s assembly, yet it also needs to be a material that will help this lovely dress keep it wonderful 50’s design.

However, the most glaring and sad shortcoming of the pattern was the way the waist length of the un-pleated asymmetric bodice front was several inches too short to connect to the skirt or even match with the bodice back.  I am mystified at what happened here and want to blame the pattern but at the same time I cannot positively rule out that it was an error on my part.  Either way, I was stuck to adding on a panel swatch to lengthen the waist.  There was no more fabric leftover for another bodice piece to be cut, so an awkward add-on was my only bet to save this dress project.  I do not think it is really that noticeable, although I have called it to your attention now!  It kind of looks like a mock belt to me, anyway, and half of that bodice is tucked under the overlapping one after all.  All I can say is watch out for that spot on this pattern if you try it for yourself.

The mock wrap to the bodice is further unconventional in the way that the left is over the right for my dress.  This is the tricky part about asymmetric fashions there is a very precise right side up to the pattern pieces.  In order for them to specifically be for the left or for the right side they have to be cut with a foresight that justifies the puzzle that asymmetric fashions are.  I traced out the patterns as they were on the insert sheet and assumed they were giving them to me with all the right sides up…not so!  The bodice fronts actually are traced out wrong side up.  Do not put too much faith in a pattern but always think things through for yourself.  That said, I myself am not perfect, and have been struggling with some ill heath lately, so I was not at the top of my game going into this.  Only when I was too far along assembling this dress did I realize how my asymmetric front was oppositely convoluted.  At that point, I felt it was more important to have the pleated half as the top layer of the mock wrap bodice.  I reconciled myself with the fact that this would be a uniquely individual garment, and as long as it turned out I would be happy with the right and left side traditional closing being off.

As if these last problems weren’t enough, I had a mishap with the fabric and was forced to turn my dress into short elbow length sleeves.  I originally intended on the full quarter length as shown, but there was an inkling in the back of my mind that I might not like them.  As traced from the pattern, the sleeves were actually quite longer than quarter length – more of a bracelet length, reaching just a few inches above my wrist.  I felt that such sleeves might overwhelm the dress and make it seem more like a winter garment (it was released in January 1958). However I wanted a transitional cool weather spring dress.  Well, the dress made up my mind for me.

You see, I do not get along with all cotton content knit.  Sure I have several success stories with it in the past (here and here for only two examples).  Yet every single time I use it, I hate it.  I think this blue knit is about the last of its kind in my stash (there’s one more), and when it’s finally gone I should celebrate.  I use the right needles that I should be using (ball tip, for jersey knits), and in the past I have tried every other kind of needle just as a test, and I still get the same sad results.  This fabric for me is a no-mistakes allowed fabric because wherever there is a stitch made, there will be a hole leftover if that stitching is taken out.  It says together decently enough when stitched as long as those stitches are left alone, but even too much stress on a seam and things will get ugly because cotton knit gets runs in it just like pantyhose!  Has anyone else run into these problems with all cotton knit?  Surely I am not unique with this.

Anyway, I had particularly bad hole, leftover from an unpicking attempt, start unravelling the fabric in one of the sleeves a few inches down from where the underarm gussets end.  Well, I had to laugh.  I had been struggling with this dress enough, and still had the entire lining to sew at this point.  I wasn’t sold on the full length sleeves in the first place.  The best fix was to go with my gut and make them short sleeves, like I thought!  I love the length of this sleeve and must say I think it does wonders for the overall shape of the dress.  The sloping shoulders and the gussets are a tad confining, anyway, so the short sleeves make this dress much easier to move your arms in, too!

I did not really make any major or unnecessary changes to the design, except those done to save the dress from ruin.  After all the troubles I had come across, I kept the skirt simple and opted for no back walking vent.  Such a feature would not really work with a knit fabric anyway.  Having a one piece skinny tapered skirt really amps up the curvy silhouette to this dress, after all!  I am not one for popular, stereotypical pin-up styles, but the no-slit skirt is I feel as small nod to those fashions.  I have no trouble walking in it without the leg vent, as the knit is a bit forgiving anyway.  There is a very wide 4 ½ inch hem at the skirt bottom to make as long as you see it on my 5 foot 3 inch frame.

The front skirt details were the most successful and relatively easy part of the whole dress.  Granted the pockets did not fit together very well when I lined up the skirt over the side hip panel.  Big surprise!  But the mismatching pockets actually helped the hip section of the dress to pouf out properly, which in turn disguises how roomy those pockets actually are.  I have already made a dress from the previous decade (one of my Agent Carter 40’s fashions) which had a very similar side front hip pocket style so this must have been a popular feature in the middle 20th century.  I not surprised.  Since when can you have a dressy dress that actually has very useful pockets that are part of the smart design lines?!  Just remember, with this kind of skirt you cannot have a tight fit because not only would that pull open the pockets, but it would ruin the important element of that design feature.  The skirt front is meant to complement the waist by exaggerating the hips (as the 1950s were wont to do) in conjunction with softening the shoulder line by using kimono sleeves and underarm gussets.

One last note that is neither bad nor good – the waist to this dress is quite high.  I didn’t see it on the model until after I realized it on myself.  The high waist on my body is about 2 inches below from the dress’ waist seam, and it looks to be about the same for the model dress from Burda Style, too.  This is kind of odd, and I don’t think that lowering the waistline no more than a few inches would hurt the overall design.  In same breath, I also would like to say that much as I’m not crazy about the higher waist seam, I actually think it does this dress good.  Many 1950s dresses or tops with kimono sleeves have them so deeply cut that they are supposed to taper right into the bodice at a high waist (such as on this dress of mine), thereby shortening and widening the top half of the female body (image wise, granted) and overemphasizing the hips by not just padding, pleats or what not, but also by starting at a high hipline. Even though the 1950s were heavy on the body mage crafting, especially when it came to employing torturous undergarments to achieve that idealized shaping, the general silhouette can still work well today on many body types.  Accepting and embracing our womanly curves and shaping with fashions that delicately, thoughtfully compliment them (such as this dress) is empowerment at its best.  It is the 1950s finding its modern freedom of re-interpretation.

When I was planning out what fabrics to use for this dress I had these grand plans to add cut-out floral designs to the bodice and skirt hem of the dress.  These designs would have been in the style of the amazing Alabama Chanin – see what I mean here.  This is the primary reason why I used my lovely peach remnant of interlock as the lining.  I expected the peach lining to show through when I would cut away the dusty blue top layer.  I do enjoy how the little bit of peach peeks out from the seam edges along the pocket tops and bodice wrap neckline!  It’s like a sneaky peek hint of the time I spent to make the inside just as pretty as the out, besides being a fun and unexpected color combo.

After the dress was done, I sort of like the chic simplicity of the design as it is.  Is has a refreshing appeal that can be made a bit more casual or dressed up with the right accessories, and a clear asymmetric design that would be detracted from with any other added business going on.  Besides – the way the fabric frays and comes apart I was definitely not doing any unnecessary cutting!  My dress was done, it was lovely, it fit me and I saved it from way too many near disasters.  Most importantly my sewing sanity was still intact.  I’m smart enough to know when to stop with the ideas…most of the time!

I do hope I haven’t scared you off from trying this pattern for yourself.  Rather, I would hope this post might be regarded as equipping you to succeed if you try the pattern.  The 1950’s are indeed at decade of lovely fashions, and I think this dress is a really easy way to wear a truly vintage look without appearing to be in a retro style.  It’s like vintage blending in with the modern world, and this is the styles I love to find.  Our fashion of today is often lost and misdirected in the whirl of four seasons a year of new fads, new ideas, and attempts at creativity.  Sometimes we just have to slow down, look around back to where we came from and let those smart fashions been seen right in front of us, where they have been all along…in the past classic styles which have never gone out of season, never needed updating.