Making the grade

If you are going to make your first attempt at pattern grading, a design with pieces cut on the bias, odd shapes, and lots of pleating is probably not the best place to start! But I have form with jumping in at the deep end on new creative endeavours, and this time I had a couple of things to help me.

The first was this book.

Grading Workbook by Connie Amaden-Crawford

It was recommended, ages ago, by @sew.midcentury on Instagram. As a) she is a hugely talented dressmaker and b) it was one of her textbooks when she studied at FIDM, I thought it was worth getting hold of a copy. I must admit that even though the grading process is clearly explained in easy steps, initially there were times when my brain just felt fried.

One step (of many) of the bodice regrade

But once I got used to the process, it was surprisingly straightforward.

Regrading the sleeve head

The other thing which helped was my decision, made very early on, not to regrade the centre front panel of the dress.

This bit

I always have to shorten bodices between the waist and bust by about 5cm/2", so any increase in the panel size would then have to be altered in the top half. I didn't want to end up with a kite-shaped piece, and nor did I want to change the dimensions by widening it but leaving the height the same as the original. The easiest thing seemed to be to leave well alone. This also had the advantage that I wouldn't have to regrade the pleated sections of the skirt and bodice fronts. For the skirt, I just added the extra width to the side of the pleating.

The bodice front was another matter, though.

Traced off the original pattern

I had to pleat it up to understand how it came together.

Now it looks like a bodice front

Even so, attempting to redraft it felt likely to go horribly wrong. I may just launch into things, but I do know my limits. Instead, I cut the piece apart following Amaden-Crawford's diagram and added strips of tissue in the gaps.

I omitted adding any length below the armscye

I then traced everything but the two bottom edges onto a fresh sheet of tissue (I got through a lot of tissue in this process!), traced the pleats off the original pattern piece, and redrew the waistline to join the side to the pleated section. It matched the waistline of the skirt, so I was pretty sure I'd got it right.

Then it was time to make my first mock-up. In the pattern, the dress back is cut as a single piece, but I split it into two and made the skirt and bodice separate so that I can more easily adjust the bodice length.

Excuse the bad mirror selfie

The end result definitely requires work. But everything it needs - shortening the bodice, raising the neckline, bringing in the shoulders - is what I have to do to any garment. I've created a size 16 pattern which fits me exactly as commercially drafted size 16 pattern straight out of the envelope would; and I’m pretty chuffed with that!

Party like it's 1986

I've been invited to a fancy 40th anniversary 'do' later this year, and had the bright idea of making a dress for it from a 1986 pattern. I already have a few patterns from 1986, but none of them were suitable, so I started to investigate what else was available.

It seemed that there were a number of trends that year, and none of them were pretty. I can't remember what I wore around the time, and it's part of my 'lost decade' for which I have no photographs, but I don't recall wearing anything like these. (Although I probably did if it was the fashion, I've just erased it from my memory - with good reason!)

The shapeless, straight-down-from-the-shoulder look was clearly very popular, possibly because it was easy to sew. Many patterns included a nice horizontal line across the hips for emphasis.

For when you just want to look like a rectangle

If that wasn't bad enough, you could have a blousing effect instead of a belt.

What was it with sailor collars?

Or you could really go to town, and have both!

Just throw everything at it

Then there were the massive sleeves. These could be cut as one with the bodice.

Sleeves right down to the waist

With an exaggerated drop down the arm.

At least the sleeve seam would be easy to sew

Or set in, but heavily gathered and also batwing.

So. Much. Fabric.

And let's not forget the shoulders. By this time the slightly boxy 1940s revival shoulders of the early 1980s were old news.

When you have to go through doors sideways

After a fair amount of searching, I hadn't found anything I'd be willing to wear around the house, let alone out of it. Eventually I came across Vogue 9651. I liked the fitted shape, the pleats, and the V neck. The sleeves and shoulders, not so much, but I wondered if I could tone them down a bit.

Getting better

But I kept looking, and eventually found this.

We have a winner

Can we just take a minute to appreciate the utter 1986-ness of that fabric.

Those colours!

The photograph may have been distracting, but the design had potential. The line drawings on the back confirmed that this was something I could work with.

I'm going for view B

Unfortunately the only copy of the pattern available was a size 10, which I most definitely am not. Which is how 2026 became the year in which I will finally have to learn pattern grading!

2026 plans

Yes yes, I know that a mere seven days ago I said that I wasn't going to make any plans for 2026. And I meant it. I simply haven't got the sewing time at present for any resolutions which involve completing a specific number of items in 12 months, so any challenges like MakeNine or UseNine are out. And let's face it, in over a decade of writing this blog there was only one year when I completed everything I had set out to do - and it wasn't even the year when there was nothing to do but stay at home and sew!

The change of heart has come courtesy of sewover50 over on Instagram, who created a template of sewing goals to choose from for 2026. And this seemed like something I could manage to tie in with whatever sewing I do manage to do.

My choices

"Slow sewing" was an easy choice as it is always on my agenda now. I don't exactly have a shortage of clothing to rectify, so I try to ensure that what I make is considered, and carefully done.

"Know my machine" may seem an odd choice for someone whose main machine is a 1930s treadle! But it has box full of different feet, most of which I have never used, so I intend to at least try some of them.

I'm not even sure what some of these do!

On top of that Singer seems to have had an unwavering, if commercially unwise, commitment to sparing customers from having to upgrade to a newer model. All sorts of impressive attachments were created to mimic the actions of a modern swing needle mechanism on your trusty fixed needle machine. I have several of these but have never tried using them. If nothing else, I want 2026 to be the year when I tackle the buttonholer.

For hemstitch, four types of zigzag, and buttonholes

That could also come under the category of "Build skills" but for this goal the main thing I want to do is something I have threatened for years, namely learn pattern grading. My hand is being forced on this one, as the pattern for the project I want to do next is only available in a size much smaller than the one I need.

Finally, "I must try". I'm not sure yet what this will involve, but I'm hoping to venture out of my sewing comfort zone at least a little. This is the goal I'm least confident of achieving, as time pressures and other stresses make comfort sewing very appealing, but at least it's on there as a prompt.

2025 review

I know for a certainty that no projects will be completed between now and midnight on Wednesday, so I can do my review of the year now. I wasn't expecting there to be much to write about but, when I put together the year's montage, I discovered that I've actually completed more things than I thought.

I surprised myself!

Going from left to right, and top to bottom:

My Lothian shawl was my first completed make of the year, albeit most of the work was done in 2024. Style 2703 was another first; my first time reusing a pattern which I had made up when it was newly released.

My brown check skirt was another project which was mostly completed last year, but this one took me until November to complete. It works well with my blue Wondrella cardigan, and I've worn this combination several times. Proving that not everything is a success, though, below it is my first Close to You shawl. Great pattern, lovely yarn, but the colours of the end result just weren't me. It is however getting lots of wear in its new home with my friend F.

I didn't have a photo of my wrist warmers which would fit in the montage, so I had to take a new one. The slight pilling on the thumb is a testament to how much they have been worn, as the alterations I made to the original pattern created exactly what I wanted. Similarly, over several years I went through lots of ideas of what I wanted to make with my pineapple fabric, but I was really pleased with the end result.

My needlecord pinafore, Butterick 6723, has been my sewing make of the year. It's had so much wear, in fact I'm wearing it now. Someone told me recently that corduroy pinafores are 'in' this winter, so I appear to be fashionable by accident! My second Close to You, complete with bead embellishment, was a far greater success than its predecessor.

It wasn't my knitting make of the year, however. That accolade goes to my Reyna shawl. Despite some issues making it, which were due to me and not the pattern, the end result has become a firm favourite - and is frequently worn with my pinafore. My yarn total for completed items this year is 2075m / 1.29 miles (although I don't want to think about how many metres I've added to my stash!). My Wool Fair cardigan meanwhile is hibernating in the project bag I made for it, while I concentrate on finishing my slate Wondrella.

I haven't worn my second version of Butterick 2535 a lot, because first I want to make a co-ordinating jacket with the leftovers, and just haven't had the time to do so. My plans to make another Serpentine hat also fell prey to Real Life getting in the way.

So yet again the Stashometer ends the year in the red.

A familar colour bottom right

At least everything I bought this year got used, and the deficit is only because of fabric carried over from last year. I'd like to say that I have displayed steely self-discipline in terms of fabric buying, but that was only the case for the first half of the year. By the time that wore off however - well, I just didn't have the free time for fabric shopping!

There will be some fabric bought early in 2026, though. I'm not making many plans for the coming year, but I do have one project I want to do. Although I'm currently wondering if I've bitten off more than I can chew with it. All will be revealed soon!

All I want for Christmas is . . .

. . . to reach the ribbing on the second sleeve of my slate Wondrella cardigan. And I'm going to be disappointed.

I know that it's a busy time of year, and that I've got more to do this year than previously, but I'm still in disbelief at just how long this is taking. I'm sure that the first sleeve, which I finished some weeks ago, wasn't this tortuous.

Current mood

I have knitted through films. I have knitted through costume dramas. I have knitted through podcasts. And I've still got a long way to go.

The second sleeve laid over the first

Obviously the rounds get shorter as the sleeve narrows, but even in terms of total number of stitches I'm less than halfway through. Sigh.

So all that remains is to wish everyone who celebrates a very Merry Christmas. And if you are trying to finish a project for the 25th, may you have more success than I will!

How it all began - part 2

When I went to the Cecil Beaton exhibition the other week, I discovered that a number of the photographs, and the sitters in his society portraits, were familiar to me - and it's all due to this book.

With my 6" ruler at the side for scale

This history of 60 years of British Vogue was first published in 1975, and my mum received a copy as a Christmas present (probably after some very strong hints to my dad!) two years later. It's hard now, in a world where endless images are easily available online, to explain just how amazing this heavily illustrated book seemed almost 50 years ago. I spent many hours looking through it, and while The Story of Clothes and Costume sparked my interest in historical clothing, my love of vintage fashions can be traced back to these pages.

It's a wealth of period imagery

The book is split into seven chapters. Most cover more or less a decade, but the first one looks at the end of the First World War and its aftermath.

The opening of the first chapter

Each chapter begins with a written account of the period covered, and then goes into year-by-year coverage.

1919, in pictures

There is also a section in each chapter called "The Changing Face", which features famous women of the period, presumably chosen as representative of the ideal look of the time.

Gertrude Lawrence and Lady Ashley in the 1924-29 chapter

For me reading the book in the 1970s, the chapter on the thirties was the first to feature what looked like 'clothes' rather than historical costumes.

1970s me could imagine wearing some of these

My parents married in 1955, and much of our furniture came from that time, so the image at the start of the chapter on the fifties was entirely relatable.

Very familiar chairs!

The images for this decade include both formal, quintessentially 'fifties' dresses, and more relaxed looks which seemed entirely wearable in the 1970s and still are today. (Ideally made in better materials, though!)

London couture, spring 1953

Casual looks in the new wonder fabric - nylon!

The sixties and early seventies didn't hold a great deal of interest for me at the time, and I must admit they still don't.

1960

1969

Some of the last images in the book are from 1974-5, and show the thirties revival in fashion at the time.

Contrasting seventies styles, loose and fitted

But out of the 300-plus pages of the book, it was the images of the 1940s which I liked the most.

1942-43

1944

This was where I first saw Cecil Beaton's photograph Fashion is Indestructible, and I fell in love with the clean lines and pared-back elegance of it all. I was thrilled to see the original in the exhibition.

As it appears at the start of the chapter on the 1940

It's fair to say that this book has got a lot to answer for!

Cecil Beaton’s Fashionable World

I have had a day trip to London - quite an event as I haven't been more than 40 miles from home since February! The reason for this jaunt was to see Cecil Beaton's Fashionable World at the National Portrait Gallery, and it did not disappoint.

Setting the scene

The exhibition covers Beaton's life from his early photography to his work designing costumes for the stage and film versions of My Fair Lady. Initially, he photographed family and friends.

Barbara Beaton, c1925

As well as photographs, there are a number of his illustrations.

The Charm of Paris (Gaby Deslys) c1929

His first fashion work for Vogue came in 1927.

Outside Claridge's Hotel

Even as his reputation grew, he continued using the basic camera that he was given at the age of 12 for a surprisingly long time. What made his name initially seems to have been less technical skill and more his compositions and use of unusual props and backgrounds.

Beaton's Kodak 3A folding camera

Princess Emeline de Broglie in raincoat and hat, 1928

Society portraits from, L to R, 1932, 1929 and 1928

The 1930s saw a move to more surrealist images, albeit with a playful slant.

Mona Williams, 1936

Hats are High, 1936

Coats by Charles James, 1936

Although he could still, knowingly, refer back to the illustration styles of the Edwardian era.

Hand-tinted print, 1937

He also spent time in America, where he photographed a number of Hollywood stars.

Alice White, 1929

Despite his extensive work for both the American and British issues of Vogue, he designed relatively few covers. In part this was because he found colour photography tricky and also because, as the exhibition notes tactfully put it, he was "resistant to the art director's brief". The exhibition includes a full set of his covers, both photographed and drawn.

American Vogue covers, 1935 and 1936

Mildred Morton on the cover of British Vogue, 1948

1939 saw Beaton switch to war photography, although one of his best known images from the time mixes war and fashion.

Fashion is Indestructible, 1941

The same combination occurs in this immediately post-war shot of Balmain clothing in Paris.

Wool coat and trousers, 1945

Beaton himself admitted that "I started out with very little talent, but a lot of strong ambition", and this does seem to have prompted fallings out with a number of people over the course of his life. Greta Garbo was allegedly furious when the images from what she believed to be a private shoot were sent to Vogue.

Greta Garbo, 1946

Post-war, Beaton applied himself to mastering colour photography.

The Second Age of Beauty is Glamour, 1946

Late Day Richness, 1948

But it's hardly surprising that someone whose compositions were so theatrical should also get involved in costume design. He designed the costumes for the London production of My Fair Lady, starring Julie Andrews as Eliza Doolittle.

Julie Andrews, dress for the Embassy Ball scene

And then worked on the film version, with Audrey Hepburn.

Publicity still

Beaton with Audrey Hepburn, 1963

This post only shows a fraction of the material in the exhibition, which runs until 11 January 2026. It is a long way from being the grittiest exhibition I've ever been to, and at least one reviewer has criticised it for this. However, I'm not entirely sure what else they expected from an exhibition which begins with the Bright Young Things of the 1920s and ends with a film which is all about artifice. I for one was happy to be immersed in that world for a day.