Sunday, 4 May 2025

Westwood at the Walker

The latest display in the Craft & Design gallery of the Walker Art Gallery celebrates the work of designer Vivienne Westwood. The pieces on show date from the early 1980s to the early 1990s and are mostly from National Museums Liverpool's own collection, along with some key loans.

Black velvet suit from the Time Machine Collection, Autumn-Winter 1988-89

As ever, reflections on the glass cases made some items impossible to photograph. Apologies for the lights and reflections in some of the images which follow.

The display

Toga dress, Nostalgia of Mud Collection, Autumn-Winter 1982-83

Cotton stockinette tops and skirts, Punkature Collection, Spring-Summer 1983

Cotton skirt and shirt, Punkature Collection, Spring-Summer 1983

Wool sleeveless dress, Witches Collection, Autumn-Winter 1983-84

Cotton shirt and denim jeans, Cut, Slash and Pull Collection, Spring-Summer 1991

Close-up of the cutwork orb design on the shirt

Cotton dresses, Anglomania Collection, Autumn-Winter 1993-94

Wool suit and cap, Anglomania Collection, Autumn-Winter 1993-94

I tend to associate Vivienne Westwood with 18th century clothing details, and there are a couple of these in the exhibition. The obvious one is this shirt.

Cotton shirt dress, Salon Collection, Spring-Summer 1992

More subtle (and impossible to photograph!) is the back of the black velvet suit shown at the top of this post. The skirt is folded up to reveal a glimpse of frilled petticoat underneath, and the fold is held in place with buttons, in a way which playfully recalls fall front trousers.

The flap on the back of the skirt

Vivienne Westwood: Designer in Focus runs until October 2026. Both the display and the Walker Art Gallery are free to enter.

Sunday, 27 April 2025

How we got here

Last week when I was out shopping with my mum, we bumped into one of her neighbours, who commented (favourably) on how I was dressed. I was surprised at first because I was just dressed 'normally' for me, but eventually realised that a 1948 dress and seamed stockings is not most people's first choice for doing the weekly supermarket shop in a small market town in Shropshire!

The dress in question - Vogue 2787

Then yesterday I was helping a friend with costumes for a photoshoot, and he asked me how I got into vintage.

I was wearing this, Vogue 5215, when he asked

And all this got me thinking, how did all this happen? I was in my teens when the late-1970s 1940s revival arrived and, while I loved the styles, I wore and made contemporary versions rather than seeking out original pieces. I did start to wear true vintage as a student, but it was more 1950s styles. Then once I started work in an office, in a very male-dominated industry, the clothing I made was very much of its time. This continued to be case for over two decades, and when I started this blog in 2012 my dressmaking was all contemporary, historical, or dance-related.

Looking through the blog for clues, I think that the change may have started when I visited the Off The Peg exhibition about Horrockses in autumn 2012. This inspired me to draft and make a 1950s dress for a Christmas night out, I started to seek out patterns at vintage fairs - and I was off!

Personal events in 2013 limited my vintage sewing to two Vogue reissues: 8686, which was an abject failure; and my first version of 2787, which after a few initial tweaks is still going strong.

Bad and good

The next year saw me draft and make my first CC41 dress. Looking back, I can only wonder at my decision to abandon commercial designs and launch into pattern drafting at a time of such stress, but I do recall that losing myself in the work involved did give me a temporary respite from the grief.

CC41 dress, a useful distraction

Judging from the blog, 2015 appears to have been the year when my vintage sewing really took off, aided and abetted by the Vintage Sewing Pattern Pledge. Vintage sewing became popular in general, with lots of pattern reissues to choose from. Then of course, in 2020 there wasn't a lot to do but stay at home and sew.

2020 dresses

However, all of this really only explains how I acquired my vintage wardrobe, and not really why. I've been thinking about this all day, and have come to the conclusion that it's largely due to aging. I was 50 when I was widowed and made the CC41 dress. I'm aware that as a middle-aged woman I am largely invisible in society and, like many others, I've chosen to embrace this and wear whatever the heck I want. Which in my case, is the forties and fifties styles which I loved in my youth. Plus, vintage styles are another way of stepping off the fashion treadmill and making clothes which can be worn and worn. I'm lucky in that being able to sew gives me so much choice in how I dress, and I'm happy to take full advantage of it.

Sunday, 20 April 2025

Knitting in 1968

I had hoped to have some actual sewing* to show on here for once, but my current project is taking longer than planned. Also, in a development which will surprise no-one who knows me, I can't find any buttons that I like! I've ordered a couple of different designs online, and am hoping that at least one of them ticks all the boxes.

So in the meantime, having looked at the sewing element last week, here's some of the knitting patterns in the Autumn/Winter 1968 issue of Vogue Knitting.

The cover jumper, shown full length

This issue would have come out in the run-up to Apollo 7, the first crewed flight of the Apollo spacecraft. Which may explain this "Space Setters" feature.

Because nothing says space travel like knitted knickerbockers . . .

. . . or go-faster arrows on your knitted anorak

Hoods seem to have been popular at the time.

Plum from head to toe

There are lots of more classic pieces to make as well, such as this cardigan.

Fair Isle banding and pockets

It isn't all jumpers and cardigans, though, there are quite a few dresses. Knitted mostly on size 10 / 3.25mm (US size 3) needles, I like some of the designs but dread to imagines how long they would take me to make.

Textured dresses

More doable would be this V-neck jumper, here knitted in metallic yarn.

Sadly still tiny needles, though

I once had an evening cardigan knitted in metallic yarn, and it was unwearable over anything sleeveless because it was so itchy. So I won't be rushing to try making the lurex lace dress on the left. I'm not sure that the angora dress beside it would be much better on me.

Ouch

Not all the dresses are fancy; this one reminds me of Butterick 4384, from 1967.

Looks familiar

Also reminiscent of my own makes is this cardigan-coat, which looks like a longer version of my gingerbread Express Line cardigan. It’s knitted on ¾" needles, using six strands of wool together!

Super-chunky yarn is much easier to use

Also knitted on ¾" needles, but using only two strands of DK wool together, is this chunky "aprés ski" sweater. The woman's version is embellished with sequins, approximately 1,750 of them, threaded onto the wool.

Not the most Alpine of backgrounds

Showing how the sequins are knitted in

If knitting with sequins is your thing, then you are in luck, as there's also an embellished waistcoat in this issue. This uses a mere 1,400-1,600 of them, depending on the size knitted.

More sequins

Finally, there aren't many advertisements in the magazine, but the one on the back cover is a stunner. Why anyone thought that large brass instruments were the obvious thing to put in there is entirely beyond me!

Tubas. For a yarn advert. Groundbreaking.


* - Remember, that thing with fabric, needles and thread that I used to do regularly.

Sunday, 13 April 2025

Knitting and sewing

I'm strenuously avoiding starting a collection of Vogue Knitting magazines, but I couldn't resist this one.

Autumn/Winter 1968

The attraction wasn't the jumper on the front (although it is quite tempting), but rather the reference to dressmaking patterns. Condé Nast had sold Vogue patterns, along with the pattern book publication, to Butterick in 1961, but had kept Vogue Knitting, so this suggested some sort of collaboration between the two companies.

The eight pages are towards the back of the magazine, partway through the instructions for the various knitwear designs.

The sweater and stockings on the left are from a pattern in the magazine

As are the cardigan and beret shown top right

No knitted items in this spread

The final page is pattern yardages and sizes

There's no fanfare or editorial for this new feature, apart from the reference on the cover. However, there is an advertisement for the autumn issue of the pattern book right at the front of the magazine.

Autumn 1968

This issue of Vogue Pattern Book, in turn, carries an advertisement for Vogue Knitting.

The two advertisements

I had assumed that the photographs in Vogue Knitting would have come from Butterick, but I was wrong. All but two of the patterns featured here also appear in the pattern book, but with entirely different artwork.

Vogue 7384. Vogue Knitting on the left, the pattern book on the right

Several of the patterns featured are designer ones.

Vogue 1999, by Jacques Heim

Vogue 1998, by Nina Ricci

Vogue 1970, by Valentino of Rome

This was the era when Vogue Pattern Book seems to have been obsessed with bulky fabrics. The versions of the clothes shown in Vogue Knitting all appear to have been made in lighter fabrics and, to my mind, look far better for it. Several of the garments are also quite a bit shorter.

Vogue 7364

Vogue 7372

Vogue 7378

As far as I'm aware, most of the clothes which appear in Vogue Pattern Book were made up in the US, using materials which were bought there, and the same images were used for the British and American issues of the magazine. This is why the British edition rarely has any information on the fabrics used other than the type. Vogue Knitting however seems to have been an entirely UK publication. The recommended yarns for the various patterns are all from British firms, and details of the accessories shown and where to buy them are all included. The same approach is taken on the dressmaking pages.

Vogue 7366, with details of the fabric used and jewellery

I have so many questions. Were the softer fabrics and shorter lengths a reflection of what was popular in Britain at the time, and this was different from American taste? Also, who paid for all the fabric and making it up, as there was nothing in it for Condé Nast in terms of pattern sales? Was there perhaps a keen dressmaker on the Vogue Knitting staff? Alas, we will never know!

Sunday, 6 April 2025

Wool Fair update

I have been working away on my Wool Fair cardigan, aka Lee Target 1232.

The cardigan

If you are a fan of working stockinette in the round because it saves having to do purl rows, then this is not the pattern for you. There is a lot of purling to create the textured knit shown on the cover. Rows of K1 P1 alternate with purl rows, so overall three-quarters of the stitches are purl. I don't find this so bad on the purl rows, but the K1 P1 rows are slow. The stitch effect is slightly obscured by my choice of a tweed yarn, but it does look interesting overall.

Close-up

The method of knitting the whole cardigan in one piece means that it goes from 66 stitches for casting on the back ribbing to 174 stitches at its widest point.

Progress so far

I've just started the backs of the sleeves, and these rows are long. Instead of Sleeve Island, I'm clearly going to be spending some time on Sleeve Peninsular. I can't imagine how the original knitters of this pattern wrangled 174 stitches on straight needles instead of the flexible circular needles we have now.

Showing the sleeve increases

Because I'm knitting with Aran (worsted) yarn instead of DK, the project and unused wool are a tight squeeze in my usual knitting bag. So as a break from all that purling I made a new, slightly larger, one. I used a remnant of curtain fabric from my stash, and lined it with plain cotton, also from stash. My original design seemed a bit shallow when I made it up, so I deepened it by adding a band of the plain cotton round the top.

The completed bag

Reorded on the Stashometer

It only used a metre of fabric overall but, as I don't seem to be doing much dressmaking at present, it’s better than nothing.