Personally, I don’t ever put much weight or mental thought into the chosen Pantone Color of the year. I kind of think it is some sort of gimmick or ruse to ‘sell’ a certain dye lot, besides being rather silly, if you ask me. Fashion chosen for the populace through those companies higher up who run the money and production is not an organic trend by the populace, no matter what advertising makes it out to be. Anyway, never mind my conspiracy theory rant because I am weirdly head over heels for the 2019 Color of the Year choice…”Living Coral” (#16-1546).
It is described as “an animating and life-affirming coral hue with a golden undertone that energizes and enlivens with a softer edge.” Subconsciously this color is not a new tone for me to sport, but the chosen Color of the Year has opened my eyes to see it is already in my wardrobe and has been part of my fabric choices more than I realized. (This can be clearly seen in this 20’s style dress, my 1954 qipao, ’57 striped sundress, my convertible 40’s pinafore, or even this 80’s style outfit.) I do love a good bright color but this 2019 color is something with more pop than a pastel but not overly confident. I feel a softened orange-borderline peach tone highlights my light olive skin. So, Pantone’s “Living Coral” announcement only gives me a reason to bring out an old favorite color and find original and absolutely awesome way to wear it with my classic vintage panache – with this post’s dress as my first example. Made with THE goldmine of rare fabric, this dress’ lovely true vintage rayon gabardine shows a unique and special way circa 1949 to incorporate “Living Coral” into more than just summer frocks (a default item made of the color).
The gloomy side of such a happy shade is the facts that the real world living creature of coral is dramatically dying in growing numbers. I’m not meaning to be melodramatic here, but nature is the original, pure form of color in all its most breathtaking and inspirational sources. Fashion is a major world polluter and this year’s color is sadly ironic if it is not also used as a source for awareness. Man-made colors do not level up the bright and glorious shades of nature. Just think of a Birds-of-Paradise, a butterfly, and a show stopping sunrise or sunset for only a few examples. What good is it to have the shade of “Living Coral” paraded in paint cans, on garments, and stationary if the real living coral is becoming so bleached out it is now only drab and sickly? I’ll step off my soapbox now, but as one who is staunchly emotional about sustainability and thoughtful fashion choices, I had to share my two cents. Let’s turn this Color of the Year trend around to actually do good rather than just promote sales for once.
FABRIC: a rayon and cotton gabardine blend vintage original fabric.
PATTERN: a New York brand sewing pattern #867, a “Louise Scott” design, circa 1949
NOTIONS: I only needed thread, a little interfacing, and a zipper (I used a vintage metal one). All items were on hand
TIME TO COMPLETE: The dress was finished on November 15, 2018 after at least 25 hours put into it
THE INSIDES: SO nice! All French seams
TOTAL COST: This dress cost only about $20…I got a great deal on the fabric!
What is so special about vintage gabardine? I don’t really know why it is so rare, but I do know quality modern (as in no polyester) gabardine is hard enough to come by. Yet I have found some primarily made of cotton over the years and it can be found in many of my sewing projects. Gabardine fabric is defined as “a smooth, durable twill-woven cloth” and I love how it is durable yet soft and flowing at the same time with an interesting texture when you look closely. It is one of my favorite fabrics but this vintage gabardine absolutely takes my breath away with its high caliber of excellence…why, it actually has a satin sheen and is not just a solid color! It is so silky and wrinkle-free. It was a dream to work with and is fantastic to wear and touch. The underside is a smooth solid grey and the right side is a very detailed floral pattern with the twill weave showing through.
Looking at the inventory of vintage fabric sellers who can authentically date their products, I have been able to roughly date this material to the late 40’s or 1950s, one of the reasons I chose the pattern I did for it. Also, American post war fashions did not need the 4-something yards that a Dior style dress would require and I didn’t have much more than 2 yards to work with! Nevertheless, I did want to pair two lucky finds together – the pattern had been found for a steal of a price during our last trip to the fashion district of Kansas City, Missouri, and the fabric had been a lucky gamble for a reasonable deal bought to support a “Makerspace”. What went into making this dress could be counted on a “Top 10 Best Finds Ever” list, if I had such a thing.
This dress might look simple at first glance, because it inherently is just that…which at the same time only shows off the smart, quality style of it. It has details – they just aren’t flashy. This is to me the lovely epitome of post-WWII New York fashion (and I don’t mean the pattern brand). American late 40’s styles were so much more sleek, slimming, and subtle compared to the strongly padded, statement silhouettes of French fashion so often used to define this time. Both had impeccable tailoring and lovely design lines, and I know (as and American) I am no doubt biased, yet to me it seems that there is a great art in being understated. Dior styles overemphasize both hem width and the hips to create a tiny waist but many American late 40s fashions preferred slimming skirts, longer hems, simple design lines, and relied on details (such as pocket flaps, peplums, pleats, etc.) to softly visually widen the hips. This latter I see as more universally flattering and working for more body forms versus the former. I think I can personally work both sides of the post war profiles, but I appreciate the low key appeal and practicality of late 40’s state-side vintage while also enjoying creating it.
So – can we take few minutes here to let me detail the fine points that a camera doesn’t seem to capture very well? Of course the double hip pleats on each side are the main event, even though you might have glanced over them. They were drafted as part of the skirt side panels making for two very long and skinny cuts of fabric. They stand in for a true peplum. Post war 40s peplums, especially ’48 to ’51 were very low on the body line at and just below the hips much like the pleats on this posts dress. I was afraid that the print would drown out the detail, so I made sure the hip pleats were not ironed down flat but kept their rolled edge appearance.
The sleeve cuffs mirror the hip pleats. However the cuffs are slightly pointed under the arm in front of the elbow. This little drafting point actually helps the cuffs stay folded up and keeps them from catching on things as compared to other cuffs on clothes I have which are straight cut in circumference. That is smart engineering there!
The skirt is similarly fine-tuned. I noticed it at the ‘cutting out’ stage when the sides of the center front panel had a concave bottom half, like a very gentle slope outward. This way the center skirt panel flares out and rolls over the side panel seams from mid-thigh downward…just beautiful and unique. Such a little difference in pattern shaping does so much! Not only does this feature make walking elegant and easy-to-move in, but also it’s not every project that the finished garment actually turns out to pretty much have the same drape and qualities as the cover drawing. Many drawn garment examples (both vintage and modern) only prove to be an idealized or a lame version of the actual draft on paper of a design, and it frustrates my detail-oriented brain to no end that the two don’t match up more often or not. New York patterns sometimes do get a bad rap (from what I have read) for only offering a colorless sketch on their envelopes, but here, the drawing captured the exact small nuances of this style. Needless to say, I am impressed.
Hopefully, this dress could fool a fashion historian or curator. I wanted nice finishings to please myself, but also I felt the special fabric deserved to be made particularly well. Hardly ever do I sew with true vintage fabric, so I wanted to only use notions and techniques which could be seen on a dress of the era which I was creating. The only thing glaringly modern is the shoulder pads and maybe the thread I used, the second of which could only be ascertained by someone trained to know. Otherwise, the French seams, the cotton interfacing, and the vintage metal side zipper do not date this dress as current. The design certainly won’t! The edges of the neckline and sleeve cuffs, the zipper, as well as the hem, were meticulously hand-picked for invisible stitching, adding to the subtle high detailing and because the wonderful fabric deserved it (saying it again). These might also confuse anyone looking to date this garment. All of this was something of an experiment, and the result brings just making another garment into something at a whole other level. I actually get giddy just thinking about it. Reliving the past isn’t old-fashioned or second-rate…it is really fun and a very nice treat.
After all my raving about how the dress turned out, what was not lovely about this was the sizing. I have made New York patterns a few times now and they have consistently had small shoulders, long hems and very small hips and waist. This dress’ pattern was the opposite fit. Of course, the difference is they have been pre-mid 1940’s. But it is surprising that just 5 or so years later could show such a marked difference. I have nothing to back my theory up, but I wonder if the New York pattern company had new owners or at least new body standards after WWII. I know the company did make it to the mid-50’s. The dress had a very long waist (common for 1950’s dresses), very wide hips, and normal shoulders. I had graded down to my body size but I had to take out in the waist and below what accounts to two sizes smaller still. Any vintage pattern never ceases to hold a fitting surprise, I suppose.
Sadly, I have not been able to find out anything on the purported designer of this dress, Louise Scott. I did find several other Louise Scott New York patterns (from 1950, some of which I passed up) along with this one, and any Internet search I have tried so far only shows New York pattern envelope covers. Thus, I’m guessing she might have been an independent, small designer hired by this one brand of sewing patterns to get her fashion concepts out there and help their company, which was in its last years of business, step things up. She might have just been their in house pattern drafter, too, even. I don’t know, but it is distressing that for as many patterns as Louise Scott offered through New York Pattern Company we know nothing about her wonderfully classy and meticulous designs.
I wore 1950s accessories to emphasize the fact that it could even be a design from early in that decade, or make it an obvious late 40s style at least. My Grandmothers vintage 1950s black glass jewelry set (bracelet and necklace) pairs with some older, some modern pieces – mid-1940s gloves, a 50’s velvet beaded head topper, me-made sterling earrings, and my decade-old favorite strappy dress heels in black satin. I believe my handbag might be from the 1980s but it has that classic 50’s style. Of course, I had to play up the “Living Coral” color in my dress by tying a vintage 40’s silk scarf to my purse. It also doubled as very pretty neck scarf that day.
“Living Coral” is such a versatile and cheerful color, more adaptable than many might imagine, almost like it’s a neutral. Here, it goes with a blue-undertone grey and the black with cream flecks are a complimentary muted contrast. “Living Coral” tones were often paired with a ‘dove brown’ or ‘avocado green’ in the 1950s. Of course, I think bright royal blue pairs well with coral, too, after making my 20’’s style “The Artist” dress mentioned earlier. Please, just don’t forget that the real living coral in our oceans need to stay just as bright and just as much in the limelight as 2019’s fashion color is! If you have another interesting color you’ve paired coral with, do let me know because I’d love to try it!