Counting Down…

    A ticking clock tracking the arrival of the New Year of 2023 isn’t the only thing I am watching at the moment.  In case you missed it, I just had my 450th post here on my blog, so I am now counting down to my next milestone…number 500!  What a way to end my year!  Although 2022 has been one especially tough and challenging time for me, my blog and its wonderful readers is one reason alone to count my blessings. 

     The pieces highlighted in this post are a merging of multiple decades and influences, all combined into one versatile but elegant ensemble.  This is so classic of me to do!  The jacquard over blouse is from the mid-century “Swinging Sixties” and the dress is from the “Hippie Era” of the 1970s.  Both were put together in a way that I hope is reminiscent of 1930’s era glamour.  I do believe that it would be hard for anyone to ever guess the origin decade of each design with the way I made them!  Of course, some of this may be due to the way I interpret my old patterns – I do need my handmade garments to be a modern and very individualistic interpretation of past styles. 

     Such ambiguity of vintage fashion only goes to show that stereotypical looks are frequently not a catch-all summary of a particular decade out of the past.  In every commonly held story about fashion history there is something yet to uncover that’s quietly hiding between the lines, just waiting to be shared by the right person.  Those further stories are something I attempt to expound upon through my blog.  As I have been progressively going through the fashions of the last 100 years and their history, individually sewing each year in antiquity, it seems that the more things change, they also stay the same to a point.  It is sad to know this is the last post of 2022, but also exciting to look ahead to everything I will share with all of you for the coming 2023.  Here’s to more fabulous fashions to sew, further historical details to learn, fun times to share, and more glimpses into my life – all to be seen here at “Seam Racer”!

THE FACTS:

FABRICS:  a black polyester satin and a polyester/metallic jacquard, both lined in a cling-free, matte finish polyester

PATTERNS:  Simplicity #7807, year 1976, for the dress and Vogue #5419, year 1962, for the short over bodice – both patterns are vintage originals from my personal pattern stash

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread with two zippers

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The dress was made in about 10 hours, while my over bodice was in 6 hours.  Both pieces were sewn at the end of last year (in 2021).

THE INISIDES:  As both pieces are lined, the inner raw edges are fully encased except for the skirt half to the dress, which has its seams left raw because they – being cut on the bias – do not fray.

TOTAL COST:  Both fabrics had been bought from my local JoAnn Fabrics store about 6 years back for other projects.  The jacquard was a clearance remnant so my one yard was half the price of a full yard with 50% off – a price of $10, in other words.  The black satin was on sale, but I did buy 3 yards.  My final total was about $35 for this set.  

     Half of this project has been on my mind for many years.  My first inspiration started by finding the jacquard remnant and feeling it had a nice modern Art Deco revival feel to it.  However, there wasn’t much there and it was too polyester looking at close inspection to pass for a true Depression-era piece, though.  This fancy Vogue #5419 pattern was the perfect match for being economical as well as channeling how the 1960s era revived the 1930s.  I specifically wanted the over blouse top to be a shoulder cover-up for an ivory brocade strapless dress I bought for myself 10 years ago (as seen in this post under my green jacket).  Adding a handmade garment to complete a ready-to-wear one always gets me to wear the one I didn’t make all the more.  The two garments did end up matching well.  After all, the dress I had was pretty much a line-for-line copy of the under dress included with the pattern for the over blouse.  Nevertheless, the knee length gives off a cocktail dress air, and I needed an evening outfit more elegant for my husband’s work’s Christmas party.  It was back to the drawing board.

It was sad to discover that the two dress bodice patterns had been cropped into almost a dozen pieces by the previous owner. I had to bust my brains assembling them back into their proper shape & size before using.

     This was the part of the project that had not been planned!  I brainstormed with barely a week before the event and looked through my stash of fabrics available at home.  Luckily, I had a variety of solid toned satins in larger cuts (about 3 yards each), hoping to use them for some 1930s gowns in the future.  Relying on only what was on hand, I happily, quickly, and economically whipped up this little black dress that is like the best of the 1930s and 70s combined.  I love it because it is unlike any other black dress in my wardrobe yet also so comfortable and sultry at the same time.  It glamorizes my jacquard bodice and fills in the scoop neckline just like I wanted.  Is it even an important occasion for a sewist if there wasn’t any drama in the planning beforehand?!  My outfit ideal ended up being finished with two days to spare.

     Let me begin with the easiest to make of the two – the over blouse.  It was easy because it was basic with just a few pattern pieces, yet I simplified it even more by eliminating the facings.  I did use the facing pieces to cut out iron-on stabilizer for the neckline edge, but otherwise the full body lining cleanly covers up all raw edges.  It is a good thing I did full lining because the jacquard was a real mess, fraying all over the place, and was very itchy against my skin when I did a few in-progress fitting try-ons.  I adapted the pattern early on by slightly raising the neckline and cutting the back body on the fold, just as was done for the front.  The pattern calls for a full buttoning back, but I instead put a zipper in the side for ease of dressing.  Being a jacquard, the fancy fabric technically had two ‘right’ sides, but I choose as my good side the one which had more black than gold to curb some of the shine. 

     The pattern did run overly generous in fit so I had to take in significant amounts distributed amongst the side seams and bust darts, as well as create a hidden fold in the center front.  The sleeves turned out unexpectedly long, way beyond the elbow, but I kept them as extended short sleeves because it evened out the look of the cropped bodice on my almost petite frame.  It was really tricky to fit.  I found it needs to be quite snug on the body to keep it from riding up.  I don’t know how the envelope cover shows the overblouse so loose fitting with so much gape.  I tried that out during one of my fitting try-ons and it did not work being worn like that.  That fit was very sloppy looking and shifted all over the place on my body.  Whatever the case, the snug fit that I found necessary meant that whatever I wear underneath needs to be thin and not bulky with definitely no sleeves.  If I wear my black high-waisted trousers (posted here) with this overblouse I will layer a tank top underneath.  My choice for an underdress is the ivory brocade one I mentioned earlier or the black satin one you see in this post.

     I don’t know about you but I can’t help but see a slight Regency era influence to the design of this top.  It is not much different than the short jackets and decorative bodices that were worn over dresses between the 1800 to 1820s time period.  Those pieces, called “Spencers”, similarly had a snug fit, empire waist, and were meant to be decoratively worn over an insubstantial dress.  Since I love Regency fashion and already have historical clothes for that era, I was therefore at ease with the odd style of this top.  Yet at the same time, it was completely out of my comfort level to pair it with modern styles.  The little 60’s top surprisingly works with more of my wardrobe than what I first intended (as mentioned in the former paragraph) and therefore gives me all sorts of new ideas for sneaking Regency styles in with my 21st century clothing choices. 

     Speaking of sneaking things in, not only is my black satin dress pretty “old Hollywood” for being a 1970s pattern with an almost tacky envelope illustration, but did you notice how I made some cheap fabric look more elegant than it really is?  Treating myself the good stuff, like silk, has spoiled me!  I don’t enjoy polyester fabrics as much as I used to, but a black satin as shiny as an oil slick is so appealing for a design like this. 

The benefit is immediately obvious in construction when the fabric pieces want to slip away from you and the skinny spaghetti straps are incredibly easy to turn inside out.  The smooth finish to the fabric made this the ideal underdress for flawlessly fitting under the over blouse. Ultimately, however, black garments can be so hard to see in detail as well as photograph (especially indoors) but the shine to the fabric is just enough to help my silhouette not get completely lost in the shadows of mid-winter.   Yay!  I found a way to love a fabric from my stash that was languishing, forgotten and unwanted.

     What helps achieve the slinky effect that plays upon the shine is my change in laying out the pattern.  The instructions said to lay everything out along the selvedge to make it straight grain.  However, I wanted to both avoid a harsh A-line shape to the skirt as I saw on the cover illustration and get a better fit without making it tighter.  Combining these aims with my desire to channel the 1930s, I decided upon cutting the skirt half of the dress on the bias grain.  I had plenty of extra fabric to do so!  This was the best upgrade for this pattern but it really made the waist seam a beast to sew…lots of easing in the excess bias.  My effort was all worth it in the end, though, because the softened silhouette and swish factor is unparalleled.  It is a bias cut dress that has my ideal balance of loose cling while also hugging my movements.  I love this dress!

     To counteract the bias cut skirt the empire waist bodice is cut on the straight grain, interfaced, and fully lined.  It is like its own brassiere being so stable, which is convenient with the spaghetti straps being placed so far out on the shoulders that conventional lingerie is not compatible.   The high waist and the widely placed straps give this 70’s dress a Regency flair in its own right with the way it emphasizes the open neckline, strong shoulders, and columnar appearance.   I had counted on this being the case – that was the only way it was going to be pair well as an undress for the little 60’s over blouse.   I figured if both had a Regency era influence they must end up looking good together even though they are from differing decades?  I had no confidence.  When I saw for the first try-on that the two pieces actually pair so well together I totally did a happy dance.  I love this part of sewing – the one where you actually surprise yourself with what you have made!  It is the best kind of reward. 

     I have also found the dress to be an incredibly versatile piece of its own right, but the details of the extent to that may just be for another post.  It is easy to pair tops over it and wear as if it was just a skirt.  The dress makes for a very nice long length slip dress under some long but also sheer dresses.  I want to make a long length open coat to pair over the dress to have more fun with its faux Regency appearance.  I never expected such resourceful dress when I put it together but such usefulness makes me like it all the more!

Let’s play a game called find the hidden hand-stitching. Really, though – look at how both are so nicely finished!

     Everything over and above the basic garment piecing for both items was finished with my finest invisible hand stitching.  My sewing machine was only used for the hidden inner seams.  I usually save my hands and shoulders the misery of doing this unless the fabrics that I am working with are fine or need a specific hem.  However, the fabrics for both pieces were cheap enough in quality with a glossy face that would expose machine stitching in a way which would not do either fabrics a favor.  I had to keep the ruse going and treat these fabrics as if they were nicer than they are to keep them looking that way as a finished piece.  A bias cut skirt is extremely tricky to hem on a machine anyway, and the jacquard probably would have acquired runs and pulls that I would have taken to easy way of machine top stitching.  What kind of finishing your handmade garments receive goes a long way towards the finished look and is just as important as every other step in the process of a sewing project. 

     Well – I suppose I have said more than enough and need to wrap up this last post for 2022.  I hope the holiday season finery that I shared here has inspired you or at least entertained you.  I trust that this post, like all of the rest, gives you a taste of the fun, the energy, the challenge, and the enjoyment that goes into everything related to sharing what I make…from a planning forethought to that final click of the publish button.  It is my way of reaching out to all of you, so I love it when you reach out to me with every like, comment, or message.      

My wish is that this upcoming New Year is the best yet to come for all of us! 

I Am the Present

I have had enough of an overly commercialized, gift-focused, money-grabbing kind of holiday.  I am craving a peaceful, reverent, family-focused Christmas where my physical presence is enough of a present to bring wherever I go for whatever space I inhabit.  I will wrap myself up or just deck myself out in bows, if need be, to show just how serious I am about this intention.  Yet, true to myself, I have found a fashionable way – using a designer pattern – to make myself look like a walking holiday present for every party, function, or social event we are called to attend this holiday.  Who really “needs” excess ‘stuff’ just for the sake of gifting, after all, when we all could use intangible gifts such as a great conversation, a shared meal, a gesture of kindness, or a fun activity that will leave fantastic memories to enjoy on for years to come?!  Let me be the present…I can come dressed the part!

Sometimes the best gifts are not only intangible but also the ones you don’t ask for or don’t even see coming.  For me, diving into the world of the 1980s designer Patrick Kelly was a good as receiving a gift.  My post back in October this year on the designer Patrick Kelly was not for nothing – neither was it a “once and done” experiment.  That first Patrick Kelly dress, where I channeled his unmistakable use of buttons, fed my fangirl-type of fascination over his life and work in a way that left me wanting.  I only found myself driven to read more about anything and everything related to him, sew more of his designs, and publicaly share more love for Patrick Kelly. 

After being quite sick Covid this summer, catching the joy that radiates from exploring his life and his works had given me energy to sew again, renewing my creative spark and excitement for fashion…just what I was needing.  Thus, I saw it fitting to change up my earlier plans for the annual “Designin’ December” sewing challenge into something that would be dedicated to Patrick Kelly.   Linda at the blog “Nice dress! Thanks, I made it!!” is again running this fantastic contest.  I want to use this challenge to help him be appreciated and understood by those who see my interpretations of his creations and read my posts on them.  Although my enthusiasm for Patrick Kelly will not be waning anytime soon, he is my designer of 2022. 

I am celebrating the gift of Patrick Kelly’s too short but nonetheless amazing life by having him as my chosen designer to imitate for the “Designin’ December” challenge.  Not only about discovering people’s favorite designers, the challenge however is meant to encourage sewists to discover their inner talents to make their own version of a name brand garment at an accessible and affordable way.  I loved creating and subsequently wearing this dress merely because of Patrick Kelly’s legacy, yet didn’t mind the added benefit that my garment was such a deal.  Original Patrick Kelly dresses are sold solely second-hand since the brand officially lasted for a few years and ended when he died on New Year’s Day in 1990.  They are rarer than other designer brands and often priced over $1,000!  I even splurged on the top-of-the-line velvet to make sure my dress was on par with 1980s Paris runway standards.  Even still, my dress turned out cheaper and better quality than any nice dress that is remotely comparable at our local department stores.  Thanks to Patrick Kelly, I garner so many compliments wherever I wear this!  Anyone with the name of Kelly has to know what works for another Kelly…me!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a premium quality, matte finish, heavyweight, stretch poly velvet from “Blue Moon Fabrics”

PATTERN:  Vogue #2078, a year 1988 original from my personal sewing stash

NOTIONS NEEDED:  nothing but thread and 29” of ¼“ wide elastic

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This dress took me in total about 10 hours to trace the pattern, re-size it, then sew the dress altogether.  It was finished on December 8, 2022.

THE INSIDES:  This velvet does not fray – more on this later – so the inner edges are left raw

TOTAL COST:  The 5” clip-on velvet bows were ordered pre-made separately from “Jojo Boutique Bows” and were an additional $15 on top of the $40 spent for the fabric.  The notions I needed came from on hand already – thus counted as free.  My total cost is about $55. 

The exact design of this Vogue #2078 pattern is part of Patrick Kelly’s “Mississippi in Paris” spring/summer 1988 collection (as can be seen in the beginning of this YouTube video of the runway show).  The flounced dress was made in a bright turquoise jersey knit to complement the rest of the collection which was in assorted bright, fresh, summer solids.  Although dated to 1988, if the design was stripped of its flounces it would make a great base for many of the various open-shouldered dress designs Patrick Kelly offered throughout his career.  He himself reused this style for many other dresses.  A bright red version of my pattern’s design can be seen with only the shoulder flounce in his Fall/Winter 1989–1990 ad campaign (see left picture).  Fully flounce-free versions were gratuitously used in Patrick Kelly’s Spring/Summer 1989 collection where the plainness of the dress design became the backdrop for being covered in buttons, made using a glittery fabric, or embellished with flowers

My dress next to Patrick Kelly’s Fall 1988 collection, photo- Oliviero Toscani, image- Dazed Digital.

At first sight, I gravitated towards the open shouldered wiggle dresses that had their open neckline decorated with bows.  Bows can be overly sweet for adult women and be relegated to children but I love how Patrick Kelly uses bows in way that reinvents them to be classy and feminine for grown up girls.  His 1986 ad in Seventeen magazine has a Jamaican model wearing a bright red dress with small jewel toned satin clip-on bows while his Fall/Winter 1988-1989 collection has another red version with oversized bright yellow bows (seen 9 seconds into the video). 

My favorite version is the one I interpreted for myself – a black velvet open-shoulder sheath dress that has big white bows clustered around the neckline from Fall-Winter 1988-1989 collection.  I did keep one bottom hem flounce (which I will address further on in the post) in a departure from the original inspiration dress.  However, I felt something click when I discovered a closer image of the dress was featured in the December 1988 edition of Vogue magazine (seen at right).  When you can see yourself in the place of a model in a fashion image, wearing the item that she is…that is totally a sign not only is there good advertising but that the garment is meant for you!  I do think Patrick Kelly would approve of my customizing his design to make it suit my taste if that means it gives me that smiling face and sense of joy which he wanted all of his clothes to convey.

There were several prominent designers who, after Patrick’s death, seemed to take their own spin on this particular design – see Victor Costa’s Vogue #2588 sewing pattern and Chanel’s ad in British Vogue magazine, both from November 1990.  Both competitor’s had their designs structured (couture-style interiors) with boning but Patrick Kelly’s version is the leader in my opinion for two immediate reasons.  It was not only first released (1988) but is the easiest to both wear and sew since it is just a closure-free, slip on, stretchy and easy-to-wear dress.  The media jokingly dubbed him “the king of cling”, after all!  He kept his designs avant-garde but also sensible in the way that they were also versatile, with clip on bows and convertible designs.  His ability to marry all of these separate elements into such functional artistry is the genius of his fashions.  Engineering – whether it’s for machinery or for a dress – is best when it is kept simple but that doesn’t mean a design has to be any less creatively assembled. 

The dress was deceptive mix of both easy and challenging to make.  There isn’t much room for error when the dress is so simple.  Any mistake in construction or fitting is easy to see when you have a basic design with a stretch fit that has a specific way of laying on the body.  This is why it is almost ‘easier’ in the end to make strapless designs when there is an inner corset and boning, as Chanel or Victor Costa did.  There is security in over-engineering a strapless or open-shouldered dress, but that does not necessarily equate to joyful freedom of movement.  It is tricky to offer an open-shouldered dress with all the ease of pajamas.  The fun, swishy comfort of a Patrick Kelly gown – stripped down from the harsh confines of couture tailoring – helps me understand why his models always looked so happy dancing and swirling around on the runways. 

I liked to wear my dress slightly over the curve of my shoulder out of preference, yet would have no problem in either fit or appearance of the dress if I did pull the dress down off my shoulders.  I got the overall body fit to be snug enough to pull the fabric in on me but not too tight as to cause wrinkles.  This way the dress does not feel like it is going anywhere on me when I pull the neckline off my shoulders.  The dense quality of the velvet of course helps the situation as does the fact here is a secret elastic casing in the neckline.  Either way, the idea is that there is versatility in this dress, and it is no less staying in place for being unconventional in construction.  This is possibly the quickest designer sewing project yet!

I did have a slight issue with the fit of the sleeves.  There were darts in the top of the sleeve caps on the pattern piece that made me weirdly suspicious from the start.  If this is an off the shoulder design why would there the darts in that spot?  Their presence positioned there meant that the sleeves would curve over the shoulder edge, and yet I sewed it together as it was just in case Patrick Kelly knew what he was doing, after all.  Turns out – I was right…those darts needed to be gone.  I unpicked most of the neckline to trim the darts off the sleeve caps and redo the casing for the elastic.  Oh well – at least I know I have a decent sewist’s intuition even if I didn’t listen to it! 

One way that I needed to trust Patrick Kelly’s original design was when it came to the skirt flounces.  Originally I had planned on not having any skirt flounces and just keeping this a mini length.  When I traced out the pattern onto medical paper (since it needed to be sized up), I added the panel that originally went in between the two skirt flounces to the dress’ main body at the hemline.  Just to be safe, I also added about 3 inches more in hem length.  I quickly realized at the first try-on that a mini length look does not do any favors for my thighs or borderline petite height.  Secondly, I realized that without the flounces, the dress immediately crept up to my panty line with every move I made.  No thanks!  No wonder the hemlines were so snug around the thighs of the models wearing Patrick’s mini dresses – it was to keep them from traveling up the body! 

A hem flounce was needed here to help this dress both compliment my body as well as hang correctly.  I really like the dress all the better for the flounce.  I love the fun it adds to the design.  It is a powerful dose of dopamine to swish the flounce just the way the Patrick Kelly models do on the runway presentations of his collections.  It was nothing more than a circle skirt so it is not groundbreaking.  Even still, how the hem flounce looks and the energy it adds to this dress is everything.  Patrick Kelly wanted every woman to feel beautiful in his designs, and energy and body positivity I had wearing my version of his 1988 design did not disappoint.

The velvet is so nice – it doesn’t fray or roll – I left the hem raw!

The velvet I used needs its own write up, though.  It literally is the most fantastic velvet I have ever worked with.  Not to brag but I have tried just about all varieties that are out there – silk velvet, crushed panne, poly velvet, cotton velveteen, and rayon velvet.  This Blue Moon premium matte velvet did not shed at all.  It is a miracle, especially since I seem allergic to velvet fuzz!  There was maybe some slight shedding on my scissor after cutting out a whole dress but that is it.  I am in awe. The feel of this velvet may even be better than my silk velvet and it has the most amazing combination of dense stretch with a perfect mid-weight loftiness.  I especially noticed that wearing my dress in the winter cold temperatures did not create any static cling, as every other poly velvet does.  The inside of a super soft knit while the plush side has a lovely low shine that prevents it from looking cheap even though it is a steal at $16 per yard.  Do pick up some for yourself and try it.  If you have never worked with velvet before or have had some bad experiences with it, I highly doubt you will be disappointed with this premium matte finish velvet.  This is not a sponsored positive review.  It is just an honest sharing of an opinion from a happy customer.

Last but not least are the decorative bows that transform this dress from plain to packing a punch.  I knew I didn’t want the bows to be permanently in lace but clip-on, just as Patrick Kelly often did for ornamentation.  This gives a versatility that is unmatched.  For example, through most of the party I wore my dress to, I had one single bow to keep things low-key, but after the party…out from my purse came the rest of the bows so I could sport the full look!  I ordered several more extra bows than what was needed to decorate the front from shoulder to shoulder (only 5 bows).  Maybe in the future I can dye the rest of the bows different colors in for another variance to my dress!  I did notice that the original model has bows that are crisp as if made of a taffeta or wedding satin.  Nevertheless, I went with my personal preference to choose velvet bows because I not only wanted an overall unanimous fiber theme but I wanted a softer edge.  I gave myself a big break by ordering the bows pre-made.  My time – especially around the holidays – is precious and in limited supply so I was thrilled to find these bows which were just what I needed and in great quality at an awesome price.  They are about 5 inches wide which seems to be about the proper size to remotely match my inspiration image. 

I hope this post puts you in the proper festive mood!  After seeing so many bows in my pictures maybe you are just thinking of Christmas morning presents, though.  I think the bows make this the perfect little black dress for the holiday.  This also is the most I have worn bows since I was probably 8 years old!  Just wait until you see the rest of the Patrick Kelly creations I have in line to show up on this blog in the next few months.  I have a fabulous mini collection that I am so thrilled about because it will help me continue the cause of spreading love for and awareness of Patrick Kelly, the American designer in Paris.

Remember to be the present with your presence.  Take time to appreciate those around you, those you care for, and all those who you meet!  This can be a wonderful time of cheer and happiness for many, but it also can be a very challenging time of loneliness and pain or others, so your presence can truly be the best present of all to those of whom no physical gift can help their situation.  Have the best of Holidays from my household to yours!  I wish you a healthy, safe, contended day with all the blessings which can come your way.  It’s hard to believe that in one more week it will be 2023!

“Azure Tropics” Mid-1960s Bathing Suit

It is now September and I’m sad that it’s time the public pools are closed, the summer heat is waning, and the official start of our fall season is not far away.  I love the summer season, and hate to see it go, but September is happily National Sewing Month, at least.  Thus, I’ll see off the summer of ‘22 here on my blog by sharing one last swimwear set.  I squeezed this project in before the end of August for our last visit to the public pool. 

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a modern, very dense, stretch poly print for the fashion exterior and the inside lining material was a 92% poly & 8% spandex content

PATTERN:  Vogue #6175, featured in the pattern book for April/May of 1964 as well as the pattern book for December 1964/January 1965

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, a waistline’s length of elastic, and a handful of buttons

TIME TO COMPLETE:  about 12 hours in total time – this was finished in the end of July 2022

THE INSIDES:  all raw edges are cleanly hidden inside the lining, so it looks so perfect inside

TOTAL COST:  The printed swim material was something I have had on hand in my stash for far too long to remember its cost anymore, but at half a yard I probably bought it at a very good deal!  All the other notions I used were from the stash I inherited from my Grandmother.  The two tank tops for the lining as well as the foam bra cups were my only true cost and came to a total of $8.00…how amazing is that!

I know I had said in a previous post I hoped to go all out and make a golden 1950s style Butterick #6067 by Gertie this year.  I ended up not having the time or energy for something so involved…and just succumbed to sewing a relatively easy two-piece set even bolder – but from the same era – as my last bathing suit (posted here).  With each swimwear piece I make, I am experimenting with techniques to improve the quality of something as inherently tricky as swimwear is to make.  Now I can proudly say this set is the best I have done with swimwear yet.  This doesn’t feel handmade – it feels deluxe.  It is so comfortable and easy to wear.  The print is so fun, too (though sadly our pictures aren’t showing how blue the colors are in real life)!  It is has such complimentary design lines that are interesting yet subtle and so tasteful – something which melds well into feeling like a very modern interpretation of a vintage style.

I love how the design is just slightly more risqué than my last two piece of 1960.  The skimpier top is just enough to ease me into a proper bikini, yet there is still a high waistline and full coverage fit to the bottom half that I am comfortable wearing.  My husband actually surprised me with this swimsuit pattern one day about 5 years ago – it was something he picked up when stopping at a local antique store – so I suppose this was obviously a vintage sewing project that equally appeals to both of us!  True love is when your better half encourages your passions, in this case my sewing.  He knows how ridiculously happy I get over sewing supplies.  He was hoping it was from a year that I needed at pattern from, and was so close to being spot-on – this pattern is from 1964 and I was needing something from 1965.  I have since found an appealing 1965 pattern to use in the future to fill that blank spot in my decade page, but can we all give my hubby a hand for having a good trained eye?  I must be wearing off on him, he he.

You can tell I am getting more at ease with sewing swimwear because I had to re-work some ready-to-wear items just to finish sewing this set.  Once something becomes a refashion project, you know there is a good story behind that project.  Nothing will stop me when I have a mission on my mind and a project idea I desire to see fulfilled sooner than later!  You see, I have specific blocks of free time for sewing, so that free time of mine often happens to be in evenings when the local fabric stores are closed.  That often does not stop me because I have a good stash that almost always has what I need in an emergency sewing situation. 

This time, I realized halfway through that I did not have plain white lining material for the inside of my swim set pieces.  I only had one more free evening to complete my swimsuit before we would have another open evening to go visit the pool.  I am getting good at estimating how much time my sewing projects will take and realized I could only finish the suit if I had found what fabric I needed that night.  I had this new suit in my craw and needed to see it done!  The knowledge that I had everything else on hand ready to be assembled was reason enough to go out of my way to sew what I did not technically need.  Why do I sometimes decide what I want to wear from out of my fabric stash instead of my actual wardrobe?!?

We stopped by our local 24-hour Wal-Mart store – I dislike setting foot in this store otherwise, so it proves how crazy and determined I was.  Where there is a will, there is a way, as the saying goes.  My husband (again) aided my project by finding some athletic wear tank tops which were perfectly suited to be swimsuit lining.  Clothes can be regarded as supplies just the same as raw cut material!  They were soft brushed in finish, with the right fiber content, and there were only two side seams to the tank tops – simple enough to fit more than one pattern piece.  Two tops were enough to do the job.

Then, I found a discounted sports bra that I could cannibalize the removable foam liner cups from to use for my swimsuit project as well.  This swim top was going to have soft, minimal structure and the little foam cups – stitched directly onto the lining during construction – were there just to keep a level of decency.  My swim set ended up better for cobbling my supplies from ready-to-wear than if I would have shopped at the fabric store. 

I love how challenging circumstances can squeeze out a whole new level of creativity that creates a pride in my sewing more than if I had gone about things in a conventional way.  Once I begin to see swimwear as not all that alien to garment sewing after all, and only that it merely needs certain materials that are not my everyday supplies, I was able to turn my bikini into a refashion project.  Seeing it this way not only saved the project but also saved lots of money (at $3 per tank top) and I was able to enjoy my new suit for our last pool visit after all.  Sewing saves my sanity and this newest suit gave me my necessary creative passion for that week, but getting to a good final place was really challenging.  Hubby was a very helpful project assistant this time, without which I would have had a different week! 

I didn’t use the old instructions and instead did some modifications to level up many aspects to this old pattern using what I have learned from the last two swim suits I have made.  Firstly, this bathing set is my first to have no visible stitching showing.  Leaving off the top stitching is contrary to what I feel like doing (I still want to think I need to stabilize every seam to the max for swimwear) but is one small step which really creates a smooth fitting suit with a professional finish.  This is something not just to be appreciated at a close distance (thank goodness)! 

Then, I adapted the bodice to the bathing suit to be a true front wrap closure for ease of dressing.  The pattern calls for a mock wrap front with a button closing back, but I did that closure for my last suit and was not completely thrilled with the results.  Doing the suit my way makes it truly unique, too.  I tried to do an internet search for a wrap-on swimsuit and couldn’t find anything.  Now, that idea may sound like an invitation to a wardrobe malfunction in the water, but I made sure the closures would be secure yet also versatile in fit.  There is a line of buttons along each wrap end so I can vary the sizing depending on how I feel like wearing the top, and I made a sturdy chain loop.  Flat buttons, sewn down very tightly, also make the loop closure more secure as well.  There is enough stretched tension in the wrapped swim top that I am confident when I wear it.  The success with which it stays in place on me in the water was really tested out when I went for a trip down the big water slide!

Before any cutting out or sewing could happen, though, I had to dramatically resize the original 1964 pattern, figuring how to make it work for a stretchy modern swim material.  First, I traced out all the pattern pieces I needed onto sheer medical paper.  Next, I added in 4 inches to grade the size up for a proper fit.  Then, I subtracted the “wearing ease” so my pattern would be compatible to working with a stretch rather than a woven.  I kind of knew how to figure this out after doing my 1960 two-piece set (posted here).  It’s a good thing the pieces were so small to work with because otherwise this step would have been a pain.  Even with grading up, I was surprised that everything fit onto my small ½ yard cut of swimwear material…just like all the rest of the swimwear I have made!

I portioned out the making of my suit in easy increments.  First, the pattern tracing, re-sizing, and cutting out took two hours altogether.  The assembly of the top and bottom in the printed swimwear took 2 hours, then doing the same thing to the white lining was another two hours.  Tweaking the final fit of the pieces took an hour, while bagging the lining and the printed swimwear together took 3 hours to stitch, clip, and turn inside out and adjust.  Finally, another two hours went into all the finishing touches. 

My husband took a good amount of time to avoid me having a meltdown when my water soluble ink pens were not washing out of my finished suit.  I recently tried out some LEONIS brand marking pens and it seems that between the fact they were new and I was working with polyester, the blue ink is mostly gone but still a bit of a permanent shadow.  The time I spent in the pool was the only way that most of the markings came out.  I do not recommend the pens at all.  Nevertheless, I do highly recommend sewing your own swimwear – I have only had good experiences doing so, and what I make always turns out fantastic and wonderful to wear.  Sewing in small increments – yet getting something significant done at each step – makes creating swimwear capable for anyone, even the most time crunched person! 

Swimwear is something so particularly suited to the personal tastes of each individual, yet buying just what you may want to wear for some fun in the sun may be non-existent or just something that could easily burn through a budget.  I hate to be repetitive, but seriously – creating swimwear is everything that sewing is all about, and definitely not as hard as it looks once you know what materials to use for success.  I know summer may be past for where I live but it is yet to come for the hemisphere opposite of me, so hopefully this post will inspire someone to find their own dream swim suit to sew.  What (if any) are your plans for the rest of National Sewing Month?  

A Smock-Frock from 1938

Today, a smock is understood as a variant of an apron – it is a loose over-garment worn to protect one’s clothing.  A frock is a now outdated term for a dress of any length or style.  Both terms may sound like something quite frumpy to wear.  Yet, I have the contrary to show as proof that a smock-frock can be fashionable.  Our modern understanding of many items we take for granted in common living are often sorely lacking in a realization of full historical context.  “Dig a little deeper” is my intuitive response after being an academic researcher for many years! 

In sewing, using vintage patterns is a good practice for opening one’s eyes to facets of fashion history previously either unknown or forgotten, as they leave enticing trails of interest in bygone definitions.  Recently, an old original 1938 Marian Martin pattern design I acquired and used for my early spring sewing has made me realize a new term – the smock-frock.  For as simple and unassuming as this newest dress project is (daily wear vintage clothes in comfy cotton are so handy to have in my wardrobe), it has certainly led me to discover yet another aspect from the annals of fashion.  Nevertheless, whether or not this dress taught me something along the way to completion, any dress that ends up being as easy to wear as a nightgown yet looks street worthy chic – with pockets as big as a small purse – is a winner in my estimation!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a printed cotton

PATTERN:  Marian Martin #9602, year 1938

NOTIONS NEEDED:  all I needed was thread and some bias tape for some simple neckline finishing

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This was a quick project, made in about 7 hours and finished in February 2022

THE INSIDES:  I merely stitched over the edges a few times to prevent any fraying, and trimmed any fly-away threads from the fabric for clean but semi-raw edges

TOTAL COST:  On sale at my local JoAnn Fabrics store, buying 3 yards of this fabric cost me about $27

Happily, the seller that I purchased from studied up for the listing and included information from an old newspaper ad which was selling my same pattern.  Thus, that person’s amazing preliminary research is the only reason I know why Marian Martin no.9602 is called “a smock-frock” design to begin with.  Now, to appropriately continue my terminology tirade from above, a smock-frock is basically a centuries old garment primarily worn by British laborers and working class people.  Only in the last 150 years did it turn into a comparatively decorative garment to wear on its own for children’s play and ladies’ housework.  Smock-frock garments often had extensive embroiderd hand stitched work (for an alliteration of the word) to control the overall generous fit in precise places  on the garment.  This type of embellishment became highly decorative between the Victorian times and the 1930s, being more ornamental than a pure design element, and its popularity muddied the understanding of the term smock-frock.  

To make things more confusing, in the history of the clerical world, a frock is an outer garment…but so is an apron.  The Wikipedia page says, “It is uncertain whether smock-frocks are ‘frocks made like smocks or ‘smocks made like frocks’ – that is, whether the garment evolved from the smock, the shirt (or underdress) of the medieval period, or from the frock, an over garment of equally ancient origin.”  All this boils down to the fact that this late 1930s smock frock was a meld of the words, besides being a relatively modern take on two very ancient type of garments.  I am surprised this garment-related form of the term was even still in use enough for 1938 to add it onto the pattern description.  It is so close to what I would term a plain housedress, or even a hostess dress (which I explain in this post here) if sewn up of a decently nice material.  Smocking – as a style of stitch – has continued to be popular beyond the 1930s primarily on cultural inspired clothing or novelty designs as well as children’s clothes.

I am wondering if the use of this term here is because Marian Martin designs were something catered to smaller, rural town residents even though the parent company to the pattern line was based in New York City.  Living away from a big town can be someplace where old terms are still commonplace, so a smock-frock would have been well known amongst agricultural worker’s families of the 1930s. I do take note that the cover illustration portrays a young woman modeling.  I wonder if the design of this pattern would have been something that the older generations would have gravitated to before the youth of 1938 would have.  You can clearly see the Depression Era thrifty sensibilities in the fact that this pattern could be used to make several different designs – dresses with two differing necklines and closures, or an apron.  There are many possibilities here!  Marian Martin is a distant cousin to the lines of Anne Adams, Alice Brooks, American Weekly, and Laura Wheeler (needlework) – all patterns were owned by the same parent company at one point or another (see more info on that here). 

Having sewn a handful of patterns from this group of mail order patterns (my previous Marian Martin posted here, an American Weekly dress posted here, and an Anne Adams pinafore posted here), I have found them to generally run on the larger fitting size.  This one did not disappoint.  It was marked as a bust 32”, hips 35” and so I graded in 4 inches to bring it up to my size according to the instruction’s chart.  As it turned out, I had to pinch out a total of 4 inches overall as I was fitting this dress to myself during construction.  The realization of that blows my mind at just how large this pattern’s size was…lucky thing I was able to save this project from drowning me in fabric!  The hemline even came down to the ground on me according to the “dress length” as given by the pattern.  Refitting all the princess and side seams, as well as re-cutting the neckline and armscye made this easy-to-make design a bit more time-consuming.  It was still pretty simple to sew these adjustments because there was no pattern matching to worry about and I was fitting it along the way to completion. 

I knew ahead of time that the busy print would conceal the smock-frocks details, but they are simple and few so I was okay with that happening.  There are princess seams which divide the back and the front into a six panel dress.  There are big, generous pockets tucked in between seams to the front side panels just at hip length.  Then, the sleeves have puffed caps and a box pleat at the outer centered hem.  Finally, two ties come out from above the front princess seam just above the pockets so as to bring in the waist and shape the dress by tying in the back.  The attached ties make this dress reminiscent of a hostess dress, as I mentioned above (and posted about here).  It is the fact I have the ties – and the way I gave up fitting the dress to me any further after bringing it in by 4 inches – which lets me get away with no zipper or buttons or closure.  Contrary to the pattern, I cut the center back on the fold and lowered the V neckline so that this was an easy-peasy slip-on garment. 

A word or two needs to be said about my ascot neck scarf.  I made that, too!  It was cobbled together into being a long, tapered rectangle of two scraps leftover from making this sheer chiffon 1950s redingote.  A small French seam goes down the center to connect the two scraps, then went to my local sewing room and used their serger (overlocker) to stitch a tiny rolled hem edge finish.  I love making my own scarf!  It is yet another little but very useful outlet I recently discovered to use up scraps of lightweight material.  My neck is often chilly in both air conditioning and cool spring or fall days.  Also, my hair styles need protection from wind and rain, so I use sheer scarves a lot in all seasons.  This handmade version was just the thing I needed in lieu of a necklace or contrast belt to give my dress a splash of something extra.  It kept my neck cozy for these pictures, too, as the sunshine was warm that day but spring is still slow in coming here.  The neckline is pretty basic otherwise.  A vintage stick pin keeps my scarf in place on my dress, here tied in the manner of an ascot.

My fabulous shoes bring my dress way above its original humble smock-frock designation, but they are such a fun pairing here I couldn’t resist!  They are part of my latest and greatest shoe splurge purchase.  Miss L Fire Company was going out of business a few months ago so I *had* to snatch up several styles I have longed under deep clearance prices.  These are the popular Miss L Fire “Clarice” heels, made of color blocked leather suede panels with tie ankle straps.  These color blocked beauties make me forget I have heels on, but really elevate my outfit, as well as anything else I pair with them.  Just as I did with my scarf, I wanted to channel everything I love about the panache that 1930s street wear displays with killer accessories.  Even if this is just a homely cotton dress, I can show how versatile it is my making it fancier than it really is!  A great pair of shoes always helps in such a situation.  Believe me, there is no better company for statement footwear with high quality and superior comfort. Miss L Fire’s offerings are so well made and so comfortable but so standout chic, it is a true loss that they are relegated to the second hand market now. 

There is so much more I could have written in regards to smock-frocks, but I didn’t want to end up boring anyone and end up with too long of a post.  I have just found so much depth of interest in the history behind this basic little dress I whipped together!  What I didn’t mention above, is the irony of how it combines the masculine (through the working man’s shirt smock) with the feminine (a frock dress) in such a unique way.  Even still, the supreme mockery to my 1938 incarnation of a house-frock is the fact that it turned out so appealingly cute.  It is meant to be so utilitarian as to not give a darn about keeping it pristine yet I will be sad the first time it gets marred.  I don’t want to destroy it too quickly, but I also don’t want to let that hold me back from enjoying this dress whenever I want.  This is why I made it – to be worn, appreciated, and practical.  The print is so busy it shouldn’t be too noticeable when I do eventually end up staining, tearing, or otherwise using my dress as the pattern intended.  If this was going to be a true smock-frock, it was going to have to live up to its name and be a practical, work-horse kind of piece for me.  I always need these kind of clothes.  They truly do take a beating, though, but I think appear none the worse for their wear.  This mid-1940s dress is my go-to well-worn housedress, next to this cranberry cotton shirtdress, and my “Dust Bowl” Burda dress.  I am happy to have a real-deal 1930s house dress now, as I have only had ones from the 40’s until now!

I really hope to sew with this pattern again in the future using yet another charming cotton print, so this is not a one-hit-wonder here.  Perhaps next time I will choose the short, hip-length smock version that buttons down the back and has the Peter Pan collar.  Maybe I will just sew another dress version because it so handy and darn comfortable.  I also want to try out the “Edith Smock” from “Pattern Union”.  It is a zero-waste design with amazing details and a style strongly reminiscent of working smocks of old, only with large roomy pockets and billowy sleeves for the modern romantic in you.

I hope you enjoyed this little post on my smock-frock, and learned about a new facet of fashion history.  Please, give this post proper credit if you share elsewhere what you learned about here.  Also, remember to stay inquisitive and keep finding answers to the interesting questions of your own making.  Perhaps you will uncover something that will fascinate, teach, and entertain you just as much as I have found in the process of creating and wearing my smock-frock!