Dior Animal

If – according to Stacey Londonanimal prints are really a neutral, than what color do I pair best with itI have made a few other animal print garments before, so how do I make yet another stand out from the rest?  Which direction do I go to sew something fantastic with some precious leopard print scraps from my Grandmother?

Christian Dior, Paris, France autumn-winter 1947

By using that old opinionated quote to start things in this post, I am only hinting that I merely went back to the very source of a very long-running ‘trend’.  That was the best way in my theory to find suitable direction.  I happily ended up with the ultimate self-made designer copy of a standout garment which is burned indelibly in fashion history.  I drew direct inspiration from a rich green, leopard contrast, fur-muffed coatdress in the premiere collection of Dior in late 1947.  Now I have my own fabulously warm yet classy home couture garment for “Designin’ December” 2019 challenge hosted by Linda at “Nice Dress! Thanks, I made it!!”.  I totally look forward to the chilly weather just for the opportunity to wear this special yet unusual combo of both coatdress and muff with a strong vintage panache!

There is perhaps no other designer of the 20th century who has remained so perennially popular and widely imitated quite like Dior.  Next to Chanel’s “little black dress” stereotype, Dior’s “New Look” of 1947 has become its own icon, a bigger than life story.  Yet, with all popularity and familiarity the Dior silhouette has become, it is not always recognized back to its proper designer source by people.  To highlight the most modern example of this, the popularity of the show “The Marvelous Ms. Maisel” is now encroaching on the Dior glory, and many recognize the nipped waist, full-skirted, multi-seamed “princess” silhouette as being linked to the personal style of a fictional character.  The situation is not too different with the ever popular animal print in fashion.  It has been so overused as a movie character’s visual aid and featured in the collections of many prominent designers up until this day, that I wonder just how many people really know the influence Dior had on popularizing such a material design.  The silver screen has a powerful way of influencing fashion like no runway show has!

The democratizing of couture fashion, which started in the 1930s, certainly made a major impact on the Dior New Look post WWII, with many companies (from the “American Dior” Anne Fogarty to home sewing patterns like the one I used here) offering means of achieving a French high end style on any budget no matter where you live.  Although many countries, especially the United States (I’m thinking of you, Claire McCardell), showed their capability to offer creative, trend-setting fashion during WWII privations.  As soon as peace was signed, French clothiers were more than ready to regain their previous place of esteem.

With his premiere collection in the year 1947, Dior has afterwards never been really far from the spotlight of fashion, never not making some reflection into the current clothing trend of the time.  Yet for all the commonness of the princess silhouette of the 50’s, it still has not lost its luster of attractiveness, that aura of beautifully crafted design lines which makes both those lacking in sewing knowledge and those well-versed in it marvel alike at the creation of such structured, wonderful garments.  Here’s what I hope is a worthy tribute to the perfection of the very first vision of Dior’s popularity, wild animal that it is!  Practicing couture techniques, working at a slower pace, trying to primarily use invisible hand-stitching, executing professional finishings, and using high quality materials on this project all were due in part to being inspired after attending the exhibit earlier in the year at Denver, Colorado “Dior: From Paris to the World”.


FABRIC:  COATDRESS: 100% wool felt, 1/8 inch thick, in a forest green and a 100% cotton flannel for the animal print contrast; MUFF: a faux fur and anti-pill fleece

PATTERN:  COATDRESS – Vintage Vogue #9280, a reprint from 2017 of a year 1948 pattern, originally Vogue #491 Couturier Design; MUFF – Simplicity #4851 (also printed as no.8910) a circa 1840s to 1860’s accessories pattern from 2003 by designer Andrea Schewe

NOTIONS:  nothing extraordinary was needed – thread, interfacing, a zipper for the side, and a button (in my case I used a kit to cover my own to match the leopard print), and stuffing with decorator’s cording for the muff

TIME TO COMPLETE:  My version of this dress involved much hand-stitching because I wanted invisibly finished edges and higher-end techniques, but even then, it took a relatively reasonable time for those details – it was made in about 40 hours (maybe more) and finished on March 25, 2019.  The faux fur muff was made in 2004, if I remember correctly, and only took 3 hours or less to make from start to finish!

THE INSIDES:  The dress’ flannel is interfaced along its edges, and the wool felt needs no finishing, so all edges are au natural!  The muff has all enclosed edges.

TOTAL COST:  The wool felt was from my local fabric store, and was originally over $20 a yard, but with my discount on top of a sale, I bought all of the 3 ½ yards I needed for only $30…how’s that for a deal?!  The leopard print is free, coming out of the fabric stash of my Grandmother.  I am also counting the muff as good as free because the materials were bought for me by my mom and I made it so long back…but in reality I used less than half a yard of both materials so this was probably a pretty low cost project…even with me picking out some really nice fake fur!  Altogether, the only real cost was the $35 for the dress!

Leopard print and a saturated green seem to be the quintessential combo (next to leopard and bright red) when looking through past fashion inspiration beside Dior’s 1947 coat.  I’ve noticed an explosion of green paired with animal prints starting in the 1920s and most frequently used on such items as nice suits and detailed coats.  Such a pairing was featured through respected sources – fashion illustrations, style magazines, pattern book covers, and Hollywood starlets.  I in fact have a 1930s French fashion print of a green coat, with leopard accents and a muff (see it here), framed on the wall of my sewing space!  You can browse through my related Pinterest board “Animal Prints“ for further sources and inspiration.

Rather than creating a line-for-line recreation of the Dior coat, I preferred to mix the influence of other pieces that inspired me and use a Vogue Couturier reissue for my means of interpretation.  No matter what designer I am inspired by, I love to stay true to my own tastes and respect the original creation I have my eye on by varying my version.  This Vintage Vogue reissue was supposedly directly inspired by Dior’s coats and dresses of his first big year, but the pattern itself is dated to the year after – 1948.  That is enough of a provenance for me to be happy, but also not feel like I am taking anything away from the designer except a good lesson in sewing.

I kept closely to the pattern, except for switching up the contrast box pleat in the skirt from the back to the front, making the added collar and cuffs not removable but permanent, as well as simplifying the means of bodice button closing.  I personally hate skirt back box pleats – they never stay looking perfectly creased and I always see them as progressively becoming more messy and out-of-place with every sit.  When you smash a complex fabric fold like a box pleat under your bum, things cannot bode well.  Thus, I switched that detail to the front, using the exact same pattern piece as was given for the back.  I love the fact that the front box pleat makes my version of the pattern appear to be even more of a coat-and-dress combo piece than the original design intended.

The pattern called for cufflink-style button closing in the bodice, and as much as I like the idea of it and how unusual it would be, thinking about that detail actually enacted brings to mind something bulky and fussy in the wrong place.  I wanted to make my own buttons out of the contrast leopard as well as continue the aura of this being a coat, and so one simple button in the front does more, in my opinion, with less.  My sole button also keeps the tummy area nicely flat and the bodice flaps out of the way!  I had to add a small leopard print square panel underneath the front closing just to fill in for when it does gape slightly (because there is only one button there), but as I mostly wear a lightweight knit top underneath my dress, I don’t really need that extra piece anyway.

As intimidating as this might look, this design was not hard to sew – it’s just tricky and needs precise execution.  I love every item that I sew (otherwise I would re-work it ‘til I was!), but not too often am I left in absolute wonderment and find myself humbled and respectful of what I just made.  I am not meaning this in a bragging way, only meaning that I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to use such an ingenious pattern and successfully made something of it, this is really that good.  The front is practically one long piece with dizzying curves and odd bust darting.  The back is one piece brought in by darts which meet together to form a V above the waistline (quite tricky).  The back of the collar joins to the bodice in a lovely point (weirdly not in the line drawing).  The sleeves form the perfect fit for elbow room the way they subtly flare out, just right for showing off the cuff lining if you don’t always want to fold up the hem.  Everything altogether feels very fine indeed, and is so complimentary in all the best ways.  I found the fit to be pretty spot on – I graded between sizes according to the chart and I didn’t need to do any additional tailoring.  The bust and the sleeves tend be on the smaller side, just a bit, than I would like but all’s well that ends well!

The wool felt that I used for my dress was important for me to use on several levels.  However, first of all, it is such a beautiful material – so lofty for winter wear that keeps you warm yet breathes, easy-to-sew, easy to iron, and not itchy at all!  That being said, it had the perfect structure for this dress, as well.  The thick wool felt is stiff enough to make this coatdress keep a very stable shape without the need to add interfacing, horsehair trim at the hem, a crinoline slip, or boning along the insides like many tailored 50’s garments (and all Dior one’s!).  At the same time, it is soft enough to work with the curving seams perfectly, and be comfy to wear as well as simple to use.  Now that is a big win!

Mostly, though, aside from aesthetics, I wanted to use felt for the historical significance.  As I talked about in the beginning of my post, the Dior look was so popular that fashionistas on a budget immediately found ways to acquire the same thing through a different means.  Perhaps no other attempt at this is as well-known as the stereotypical “poodle skirts”.  The performer/singer Juli Lynne Charlot is credited for inventing the felt circle skirt in 1947.  Today they are loosely called “poodle skirt” because of the popularity of one of her many (frequently dog inspired) novelty pictures above the hem.  They had a humble beginning as her response to both finding a cheap and practical way to wear the newest Dior look as well as find a means of making money.  Fortunately, her mother owned a factory which used felt, so she had a free source of it, and as felt is made with a wide width, it’s perfect for a seamless circle skirt…just a hole in middle for the waist and you’re done!  By 1952, Juli Lynne had her own factory and was producing patterns.  You can read an excellent interview with Juli Lynne on this blog page from “The Vintage Traveler” where you can see images of her life and career, and more recently (August 22, 2019) “Dressed” had a podcast on this subject.

According to the blog interview at “The Vintage Traveler”, Juli Lynne wanted her clothing to be conversation starters.  I like that idea, too.  My clothes frequently get people talking, asking, me questions, or sharing the memories my style conjures!  This Dior inspired coatdress of mine so far has garnered many compliments, a few “oh, I sew too!” shares (this is the best), and even a few of the older generation telling me I remind them of classic Christmas movies or something a dear relative wore in their younger years.  It is all very sweet!  I am secretly a very social and people-loving person at heart, anyway, but experiences like that connect what I do (sewing) and the vintage styles I wear in a very meaningful manner both to me and the world around me.

The ‘Dior-ness’ of my outfit is fully continued with my accessories.  I am quite proud to sport a true Dior belt buckle.  I realize it is of a newer vintage (probably 80’s), but it has the name across the middle and carries the same idealism of the 1947 original that I was imitating.  Not too often do I get to go ‘all out’ and both find and buy a pricey designer brand item to complete one of my outfits, so doing it this time was a real treat!  I my garment is not instantly recognized for its Dior influence, my low-key but still obvious belt buckle will spell it out.  My earrings are French Dior-style studs, with a ball in front and one behind the lobe to cover the stud.  I couldn’t find a true Dior pair of earrings I could rationally afford after splurging on buckle, so I ordered the bronze ball/crystal back ones you see here from the Etsy shop “ArtandFact“.  My hat is a true vintage post WWII piece, and my shoes are Miz Mooz brand vintage reproduction heels.

Last but not least, my faux fur muffler needs a few words to be said for it!  It was made by me about 15 years in the past now when I wanted to get into Civil War reenacting and start with something fun which might be worn for other occasions.  I don’t remember much about it other than it was super fail-proof and ridiculously easy for a newbie like me (back then) to sewing with fur, and I used a bag of fiberfill polyester.  I rather wish I would have used something nicer than fleece for the inside but it does keep my hands so very warm!  I added the cording to make it less fussy and wearable over the shoulder or around the neck.  Without its cord, the muff would always need to be held, and I am the type who would grow weary of that and set it down to mistakenly forget it somewhere…never to be seen again.  Can’t you tell I’ve done such a thing before?!  A furry muffler is such a practical luxury item (it’s both glamorous yet good at keeping your hands from freezing) that happily came back as a trend in the 30s, 40s, and 50s.  One day, I want to tweak this pattern and make another version in a faux astrakhan that is secretly a wallet inside, just as they did in the 40’s!

If you’ve made it this far down reading through my thorough post, thank you!  Well, this about wraps it up here for this decade.  I’ve been blogging for 8 out of the last 10 years, and am so grateful to each and every one of you for following, liking, and commenting!  I’ve been putting pressure on myself to decide what would be perfect to share in a post before a new decade.  Nevertheless, I realized it is just yet another year, and I have plenty more good stuff to share here and to do in the background just like this past one!  Life goes on and I’m looking forward to many more years of sewing and writing about it here!  This Dior coatdress was my chosen holiday outfit for this year.  It was the one I wore for our Christmas card pictures, after all, so I felt my end of year outfit to share was rather a natural choice.  Taking part in the “Designin’ December” challenge always ensures that I have a really amazing project to reveal and wear at the end of the year, anyway!

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).


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?

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

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



My “jungle cat” face!

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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