Fixing an 'almost' dress

Last September I tried an experiment. I made up an altered version of Vintage Vogue pattern 2787, using two fabrics and carrying the contrast section on to the back. I wrote at the time that I didn't feel it was a success. The blue was too much of a contrast, not helped by the fact that it was a poor match for the (small amount of) blue in the print.

The idea, and the reality

But, I didn't feel that it was a failure, either. Two-tone dresses were a very 1940s 'thing', and I still liked the basic principle, just not this version. A definite failure would have been easier in a way - I could have got rid of it, and moved on. But instead it lurked in the wardrobe, reminding me that it was 'almost' what I wanted, just not quite.

Eventually, I decided that enough was enough. Despite not being short of other things to do, I would try to fix the dress by 'lifting out' the blue section and replacing it with something more suitable. My logic was that I would never wear the dress in its original version, so if I accidentally destroyed it in the process, then it wasn't a loss. And if it worked - bonus.

I settled on a dark red crepe for the new section. It's a slightly warmer colour than the maroon in the print, but a better match to the overall tone of the brown fabric. When I made the dress, I had made up the front and the back in the two fabrics, and then joined them together. This time I made up the red section, stay-stitching all the curves and completing the sleeve.

Making the new section

Then, I turned under the edge that would lie over the print part of the dress, and basted it down.

Ready to insert

It was crucial that none of the long curved edges stretched during the (re)construction, so I basted a stay tape (in reality, the saved selvedge of a lightweight but firm fabric) round the edge of the print part of the dress.

Stabilising the dress edge

Then, it was time for dress surgery! I decided to start at the side seam, which had to be unpicked along a short section.

Scalpel! Well, seam ripper

Next, I started to unpick the lapped seams which hold the two parts together. Not only was this a double row of stitching, but I also discovered that I'd used a very short stitch length! As I couldn't risk pulling anything out of shape or excess fraying, I had to unpick this stitch by stitch.

The start of a lot of unpicking

I decided to hone my technique, such as it was, on the back. I had already marked various match points, such as the darts and the centre back seam. My method was to unpick a short section, slide out the blue part, pin in the red part, and then baste it in place. I used a different colour of thread so that I could easily tell which basting was which if I needed to remove any.

My replacement method

Once I got almost to the neck, I repeated the process on the front. This included gathering up some of the red fabric to lap under the print.

By the time I got to the neckline itself, I was so absorbed in what I was doing that I forgot to take any progress pictures. Not for the first time, Current Black Tulip was very grateful that Past Black Tulip had not cut the seam allowances down to a sliver! Even so, replacing the blue section of the facing seemed like a step too far. Rather than try to sew dress and facing together in the normal way, I decided that it was far easier to turn under the dress seam allowance, and oversew the facing in place. This also meant I could include a generous 'turn of cloth' allowance to hide the blue!

Facings attached

Then it was time to sew the plain and print sections together. I did this on the treadle, as the flat surface and the extra harp space were really useful for moving the dress around. Most of the sewing was done by turning the balance wheel by hand, however. Then I had to take out all the basting threads and stay stitching, which took a while. I actually had some brown buttons of the right colour, size, and quantity in my button box (it's a miracle!) so I attached these, and the shoulder pad, and it was done. Even better, the rain stopped for long enough for me to nip outdoors and take some photos.

'New' dress

I am so much happier with this version. Using a darker colour has moved the emphasis to the print section. Even the horizontal line at the hip doesn't look so pronounced.

Showing more of the side

And here are the two versions side by side for comparison.

Such a difference

Did all this take an absurd amount of time? Yes, it did. It was pretty much the opposite of a Sewing Bee transformation challenge - spend about 15 hours making something barely different. Would it have been quicker to just ditch the original and start again? Almost certainly. Am I glad I did it? Heck yes. I have a stubborn streak, and the knowledge that this dress could be so much better was an itch which needed to be scratched. I know that this version will get a lot of wear, and as I try to consciously move my dressmaking practice to something slower and more detailed, this represents another piece in the jigsaw.

One metre in, one metre out, nothing to see here

Vogue 2787 completed

I don't know why I'm still surprised when something takes longer than expected, given that it's the story of my sewing (and indeed, entire) life. But I'm certainly not going to be even starting my second planned project for #SewVintageSeptember (i.e. the one which was planned, using a UseNine2021 fabric). My impulse two-tone version of Vogue 2787 is, however, done.

Last week I had a back in two colours and a front in two colours, and was ready to join them and hope that they matched. Happily for me, they did. I sewed the left side seam and then, while the dress was still one relatively flat piece, top-stitched round the edge of the blue section, from centre back to the front.

The topstitching crossed the seam line . . .

. . . and ended 'under' the curve of the brown fabric

Next, I sewed the right side seam and set in the zip, before sewing the shoulder seams. This meant that I was hand-picking a zip into a tube rather than a completed dress, so had more access from the top.

Reinforcing the bottom of the sleeves with tape had worked really well on my second version of this dress, so I took the idea a step further. This time, the strip of tape is machined into place, following the lines of the sleeve hem.

Inside and outside views of the sleeve reinforcement

As an aside, one thing which I hadn't considered was just how frequently I would have to keep swapping between blue and brown thread on my sewing machine - hardly onerous, but faintly annoying!

Anyone who reads this blog regularly (thank you!) will know the agonies of choice which I usually face over buttons. This time, it was pleasingly straightforward. Even though the buttons at the back are almost entirely on the brown fabric, I had found some vintage buttons in my stash which were a perfect match for the blue, and I liked the idea of the contrast.

An easy button choice for once!

The shoulder pads are bought ones, because I wanted to get the dress photographed today, but I will probably replace them with a set made from the pattern.

I must admit that I'm not totally sold on the end result. I hadn't taken into account the fact that the 'curve' of the front contrast piece is very flat at the bottom, and a prominent horizontal line at my widest point is not a feature that my figure is calling out for.

Not the best look

But, the idea of changing the pattern by extending an element round the dress was definitely worth pursuing. I recently read this obituary of Janet Kennedy, the main designer for Clothkits in the 1970s and 1980s, in which the writer mentioned that Kennedy's training in sculpture informed her ideas for patterns which flowed round a garment. This reminded me of something I wrote about my Big Stitch piece back in 2017 - that for home dressmakers the choices are all-over pattern or plain fabric; cloth printed specifically for a garment is nowadays limited to ready-to-wear. So I'm looking on this as a learning experience, and hope to create more pieces with a look that's 'in the round' in the future.

In the meantime, here's some more pictures of the finished dress, including some seated shots.

Dressing it up with gloves, handbag and my Vogue 7464 hat

The handbag disguises the horizontal line

Front view, standing

Front view, seated

Side view, seated

Back view

The gathers in the blue section at the neck make it hard to display a brooch properly, but eventually I managed to get this vintage bakelite number at an angle where it didn't vanish into the folds.

The finishing touch

And finally, the all-important Stashometer. The blue was a far bigger remnant than I needed, so the stash had a net gain from this project.

0.8m added

Vogue 2787 with a difference

I know I said last week that I needed to crack on with using up some more of my UseNine2021 fabrics but unfortunately, 'it' happened again. (Hint: small, tree-dwelling mammal, UK native species red, imported species grey, rhymes with "Wirral".)

It's safe to say that inspiration rarely strikes me while I'm ironing, but I was pressing my previous version of 2787 and it struck me that the design would lend itself to being made up in two colours, in true 1940s style.

The line drawing shows the dress pieces clearly

I must admit that when I first came across the 1943 Make Do and Mend booklet, I was very doubtful that anyone would have actually taken up the suggestion of making a new dress from two old ones.

Really?

But since then I've come to realise that in fact, the look predated clothes rationing. Several Vogue patterns from 1940 are shown with the option to be made up in two fabrics. Some just have a contrast at the front.

Vogue 8853

On some it extends to the back.

Vogue 8864 and 8882

And others have contrasting sleeves.

Vogue 8862 and 8849

And then, of course, I made up Vogue 9546 (from 1942) in two fabrics. So the idea isn't without precedent. Admittedly Vogue 2787 dates from 1948, by which time contrast sections were probably entirely out of fashion, but I wasn't going to let that stop me!

My initial idea was just to use a different fabric on the left front bodice, but I decided that this would look clumsy, and that it would be better if the contrast extended to the back as well. Once I'd got an idea of the yardages required, I headed out to Abakhan for fabric. On a previous visit I had spotted some brown patterned fabric with a slight ribbed weave that I liked, but wasn't sure what I wanted for the second fabric. Initially I looked for something in one of the colours of the print, but nothing seemed quite right. Then I found a remnant which was more a duck-egg blue than the pale blue in the print, but a similar tone.

My over-optimistic plans for #SewVintageSeptember

Plunging the Stashometer further into the red

Armed with the fabric colours, I then created a sheet of the front and back pattern drawings, so that I could experiment with different curves. Because I'm left-handed, I tend to put side zips in the right seam of dresses rather than the left, which made things easier. My first attempt was based on the dart placements, but I quickly realised that this was too thin and that the design needed more pronounced curves.

Trying out ideas

Once I had the basic idea, I put the previous version of the dress on Nancy, and used pattern design tape to create the shape I wanted. I needed to avoid crossing any of the darts, and of course the bottom of the curve had to join the front bodice piece. The overall shape just looked better if it slightly crossed over the centre back seam, and because I was planning to apply it to the completed back section anyway, this wasn't a problem.

The back shape, compared to the front

I had already copied the upper section of the dress back pattern piece onto tissue paper, so then it was a case of very carefully getting the dress off Nancy and laying it flat without dislodging the tape, laying the tissue sheet on top, and tracing off the line of the tape. Finally, I smoothed out the curve, and added a seam allowance.

Very bad photo of the pattern piece in progress

The front of the dress was constructed as normal, just using two fabrics instead of one. The remnant is not a full satin/crepe, but the right side is definitely smoother than the wrong. I decided to use it wrong side out, which involved checking, double-checking, and triple-checking that I had my pattern placement correct!

The two backs were sewn together, the seam pressed open, and the edges neatened. I cut out the contrast piece (nearly getting it the wrong way round, despite everything), turned under the seam allowance on the curve, snipping where necessary, and basted it down. Then I pinned it to the dress back along the raw edges, and placed pins vertically through the tailor-tack marks which were on both the back and the contrast. Finally, I pinned along the curve.

Not sure if I've used quite enough pins here!

The contrast section was top-stitched to the back, and once I was sure that everything was hanging together properly, I cut away the excess brown back fabric and neatened the seam allowance on the curve. Next step - joining the sides together, and hoping that they match!

I finished a thing!

Normally I wouldn't get this excited about finishing a dress, but these are not normal times. I was chatting to my friend F the other night* and we both agreed that our concentration levels are hopelessly low at present. So I'm taking the completion of any task, no matter how basic, as a win.

Woohoo - a finished dress!

This is my second dress made from Vogue 2787. I decided that I wanted to finish it before I started my April projects, as it has been on a hanger on the door of my workroom for ages. I thought it had been there since last year, but actually I started it in August 2018!

The pattern

Its previous appearance on the blog

After I made the front I sewed the centre back, shoulder and side seams, and that was as far as it got. Amazingly, I hadn't lost the facing pieces in the intervening 18 months, so the next thing was to sew those together and attach the facing.

With side seams, and pinned-on facing

After that, all that was needed was the zip (hand-picked, as ever), the sleeve and skirt hems, making and attaching the shoulder pads, and the buttons at the back neck. Far and away the trickiest thing was selecting the buttons. Buttons of any yellow apart from an exact match - which of course I didn't have - looked dreadful, so I experimented with picking out the other colours in the fabric.

Possible button choices

In the end, I settled on the vintage red set on the left.

The buttons in situ - with matching earrings

The soft cotton that I used this time is a far more appropriate fabric choice for this pattern than the crisper cotton I used previously; the gathered sections drape much better.

Showing the gathered sections at the neck and hip.

Sadly, because this was finishing off a dress already cut out, there's no impact on the Stashometer. However, the shoulder pads were covered with lining fabric taken from my 'lining offcuts' stash, and the seams beneath the armholes (the weakest point of this dress) were reinforced with tape from my 'leftover bits of tape and binding' box. Even though I'm a firm believer in wasting as little as possible, sometimes in the past it has seemed a bit daft to keep all these odds and ends when I live so close to a fabric shop and can 'just pop out' for anything I need. Suddenly however it doesn't seem so silly any more!

Home-made covered shoulder pad

Tape to stop the side seam from tearing below the armhole

I'm really pleased with how this dress turned out, and so glad that I finally finished it. I'm looking forward to it getting lots of wear when I can get out and about, and might even manage to get some pictures of it somewhere other than in front of a yellow wall!

Blending in

* - Not in person, obviously. When we stopped to think about it, we realised that our socialising mostly consists of me going round to her house for a good natter and a couple of glasses of wine followed by copious cups of tea - all of which we could easily replicate over the phone. Sadly what I can't do is play with her cat; but he does recognise my voice over the phone, and miaows a greeting to me!

Missing this handsome chap!

Confession time

Yes, I know that I'm meant to be working hard on my dissertation, and most of the time I am indeed working hard on my dissertation. But I've discovered (no great surprise here) that not doing any sewing at all really doesn't agree with me. So to get my stitching fix as efficiently as possible, I decided to make something using a pattern which I'd already made up: that way it would already be altered to fit, and I could get straight on to the sewing.

I'd come across a lovely, buttersoft and very drapey cotton several weeks ago when I was in my local fabric shop - I got chatting to two of the assistants who were 'dressing' one of the window display mannequins, and somehow ended up helping them with the trim placement. Apparently they were going for 'old lady chic'; a look which I think pretty much describes my entire wardrobe!

Remembering this fabric, I decided to remake Vogue 2787.

Vintage Vogue from 1948

I had all sorts of problems making this originally, not helped by my never-mind-the-drape-feel-the-print approach to fabric selection. Oddly enough, the crisp cotton I chose didn't hang in the same manner as the toile made from an old bedsheet! I managed to fix a lot of the problems, and frequent laundering of what was now a favourite dress eased the crispness.

The first version of 2787, aka 'The Feedsack'

In fact, the problem now is that after several years of said laundering, and despite a few mends to fix wear and tear, it is definitely past its best. So a replacement, in a far more suitable fabric, seems like the way to go.

In a couple of weeks, all I've managed to do is the front. Although to be fair, that is quite a job in itself. I remembered that sewing round the curves was really tricky, so used my 1917 hand-crank Singer for the job - it worked a treat.

Progress so far

Now onto the back.