More from the eighties

I haven't become obsessed with the decade, honestly. It's just that I’ve found another 1980s item which is relevant to this blog.

A while ago, I bought a number of issues of Vogue Pattern Book at auction. I didn't have the time to go through them properly when they arrived, but last week I finally did. And discovered that the lot included a couple of issues of Vogue Knitting, including this one.

Autumn/Winter 1984 issue

From reading the very small print (literally so, I had to use a magnifying glass!) I discovered that this was not the magazine I'd posted about previously. In 1968, Vogue Pattern Book was published by Butterick, but Vogue Knitting was still part of Condé Nast. At some point Vogue Knitting must have ceased publication, and was then relaunched in 1982 by Butterick. Butterick appears to have bought more than just the name from Condé Nast, as each issue includes a pattern which has previously appeared in the magazine.

From the Fall/Winter 1965 issue

Vogue Pattern Book always had a British edition, containing advertisements and occasionally some editorial from the UK, and the original Vogue Knitting was the same. The new version however was purely a US publication. This had clearly led to complaints from readers in other countries, who couldn't get the yarn required for the patterns - hence the reference on the cover to the "international yarn buying guide".

A lot of the designs are very 1980s. Both in patterns in the magazine and advertisements for wool companies.

Two patterns . . .

. . . and two advertisements

As with the pattern book, there are some useful 'how to' articles, including cable knitting and how to size up a pattern. I was less convinced by the piece on the new (and I suspect, short-lived) trend of 'condo' knitting, done one 19mm and one 4.5mm needle.

The 'condo' pattern

There are some patterns I like, however. I have seen this somewhere else recently, and had no idea that it was from the 1980s.

I'd never wear something like this, but I like it

And then I turned a page, and found this.

Looks familiar

It's the jumper which had appeared in the Autumn 1984 issue of Vogue Patterns, which I blogged about here. I wrote in that post that I was rather taken with it and might need to look out for the issue of Vogue Knitting.

I could remember where I'd seen this before

Because this is a 1980s magazine rather than a 1940s one, the pattern is given in several sizes, so I don't need to refer to that article on sizing up. There's even a handy schematic, so I can work out how to shorten the design to fit me.

All the information you need

Of course, this is entirely hypothetical at present. My ability to find things I want to knit vastly exceeds the speed at which I actually knit. But it's good to know that I now have the pattern.

Where you find it

I am back to hospital visiting on an almost daily basis, and when that is finished, I will be spending a lot of time visiting my mum at home. Dressmaking isn't the most portable of pastimes, so I can see a lot of knitting getting done. (It's a good job I have a few projects planned!)

I've been working away on my Dandelion Air shawl over the last few weeks, even taking it with me when I go to visit Mum, and squeezing in a cheeky row or two while we chat. (Annoyingly, the train journey is far too bumpy for knitting - note to Transport for Wales: please fix this!) Initially the colourway of the yarn reminded me of carousel horses, but knitted up it's more like a particularly jaunty fruit salad. Either way, it's nice to be working with something so bright and cheery just now.

On a circular needle - I did learn from my past mistake!

Several of the other ladies on Mum's ward knit, so they were keen to see what I was up to. One was especially taken with my yarn holder.

It rotates as you pull on the yarn

It's meant to hang from the wrist, but I found it a bit of a distraction there so I push it up towards my elbow, which is perfect. When I'm at home, I hang it from my work lamp. Mine came from the annual yarn fair in Port Sunlight, but I have since found them for sale online.

Because the work in progress prompted so much interest, I ended up wearing my Reyna, Close to You and Blue Dahlia shawls on different visits. None of my friends knit, so it was lovely to have an opportunity to chat about all things woolly with some other knitters, albeit in unexpected circumstances.

Rimini

The pattern I used for my 1986 dress was part of Butterick's "Rimini" line, which I had never heard of before. So of course, I had to vanish down the rabbit hole of research.

I'm not sure how I had managed to avoid it, as there are lots of Rimini patterns for sale online, dating from 1984 to 2000.

The earliest and latest examples I found

There were a couple which were overly frilly for my taste.

Not for me, thanks

But overall, there was a very definite 'look', which mostly chimes with my non-frilly aesthetic.

More like it

I may have managed to miss a line which was sold for at least 16 years and included a number of patterns I would have happily made at the time, but others didn't. Judging by the frequency with which this 1987 pattern appeared in my ebay and Etsy trawls, it must have been hugely popular.

Clearly a bestseller

All of which was very interesting, but didn't provide me with a lot of information. "Rimini" is too vague a term to search on, and "Rimini pattern" brought back a lot of ceramics! So instead I tried the name which appears under the Rimini logo.

A possible clue

This was much more useful. Richard Warren was a designer for the Warren Group, which was founded by his late father David in 1967. Seeing a gap in the market for better quality dresses in luxurious fabrics, he designed a line under his own name to fill it, and sold the garments in stores including Neiman Marcus. The Warren Group also included the labels David Warren, DW3, Reggio, and Rimini.

Butterick clearly had an extensive relationship with the Warren Group, as I was able to find patterns for all of the labels apart from Reggio.

David Warren

DW3

Richard Warren

My Rimini dress undoubtedly included design details which took time to make but lifted it out of the ordinary - as Richard Warren intended. What I haven't been able to discern is how the labels (or patterns) differed from each other in terms of intended market. If any American readers can shed any light on this, I'd love to hear from you.

Something new

I have an entirely new project in mind. It's a long time since I've done any historical sewing, and I would definitely like to get back to it. Completing my 1986 dress has reminded me just how much I can get done, if I put my mind to it, and how satisfying it is to really work on something. So I'm hoping to get back into the Historical Sew Monthly this year.

I've discovered that despite the name, knitted projects are also allowed. This may have always been the case, but when I last made something for the HSM I wasn't a knitter, so possibly I just didn't notice.

Historical knitting is a whole new rabbit hole for me to fall down! And happily, there's lots to investigate. In particular, I've discovered the Antique Pattern Library - a mind-boggling collection of patterns for all sorts of crafts, and free to access.

It also gives publication dates, which is how I know that this booklet dates from 1915. I was thinking of making a teens era ensemble anyway, so this definitely caught my eye.

At 68 pages, it's a substantial 'booklet'

There is an initial chapter on the basics of knitting and crochet, along with information on different types of wool. This includes "vest wool" and "petticoat wool", as well as a variety of different types of 4-ply. The subsequent chapters cover different types of knitted and crocheted items, with an illustration for each chapter. There are lots of items for babies and children, but chapter six is "Waistcoat, shawls, jackets and spencer".

The items in chapter six

Most of the shawls are crocheted, which is a new skill too far for me. But one is knitted.

Close-up of the knitted shawl

A quick skim through the instructions suggests that it's within my capabilities. There's still lots to work out in terms of yarn choice etc, but historical knitting, here I come!

The 1986 dress complete

National Museums Liverpool turns 40 this year, and the celebration began with the Director's Dinner on Thursday 13th February. This was the event for which I was making my 1986 dress and, fortunately, I got it finished in time. There wasn't a steady stream of people at the dinner asking me, 'Is that a 1980s dress?', so clearly it didn't look too spectacularly of its era.

I was however very glad that I had taken the shoulder seams in a bit, as even with that alteration the shoulders still look very 1980s to me.

It could only be from one decade

There is a stiffener in the sleeve head - an oval of fabric folded in half, gathered along the curved edge, and attached to the seam allowance. The pattern instructions are to make it from interfacing, but I used silk organza instead. Then the shoulder pads are positioned to extend about 1"/2.5cm into the sleeve head. In short, there's a lot of supporting structure in there.

The sleeve inside out, showing all the layers

The sleeves are fairly full all the way down, not just at the head, and fasten at the bottom. There's no cuff, instead the sleeve is folded, and a single buttonhole is sewn through both layers. This then goes over the button sewn onto the sleeve.

The sleeve unbuttoned . . .

. . . and buttoned

While the front of the dress is obviously the focal point, the back isn't totally plain. There's no shaping at all, no darts in either the skirt or the bodice. Instead there's a back belt, which fastens over the zip with buttons. It isn't interfaced, but I did add some interfacing to the buttonhole area to keep it stable.

Back view

I avoided my usual button dilemmas by going for self-cover buttons. The sleeve buttons were made from sections of plain black fabric, but for the back I decided to go for something a bit fancier. The print contains one section which is half green and half beige, so I definitely had to use that.

Fabric cut out from the printed sections

The completed belt

And here is the finished dress, standing and seated.

As I wore it to the dinner

The shoulders look less extreme on me instead of Nancy

Because I bought no fabric last year which I didn't use, the Stashometer is in the rare state of starting from zero. It feels like a bit of a cheat, but I'm taking it anyway!

Amount in equals amount out, for once

The dress took a long time to make, far longer than I was expecting, and I only finished it a few hours before I was due to set off for the dinner. But a lot of that was because I took the time to really do the job properly, and I'm so glad that I did. The fit is spot on, and everything is properly aligned and neatly finished. It ties in perfectly with two of my sewing goals for 2026; slow sewing and building my skills - in this case pattern grading. On top of all that, I have so much going on just now that spending time absorbed in this project was a rare opportunity to feel like 'me' for a bit. Which is priceless.

Finally, one topic which came up several times at the dinner was just how few photos those of us who were alive 40 years ago have of ourselves from then. So if you've read this far (thank you!), here is a bonus shot from July 1986, taken with my parents after my graduation ceremony.

With much the same hairstyle as now!

Thanks to Mum's archive for the photo!

Diamond and triangle

Time to start making Butterick 3794 in my 'proper' fabric. It's Jane Ecovero viscose challis from Atelier Brunette. Things did not get off to the best start when I gave it a (very cool) pre-wash, and it went from being 140cm wide to nearer 130cm! I managed to coax it back to around 134cm, but this still required a few adjustments to the cutting layout. Thank goodness I had bought a bit extra.

Squeezing the pattern pieces in (with migraine tablets unintentionally to hand)

Other than that hiccup, it has all gone fairly smoothly so far, probably helped by the fact that this was my third time making the bodice. The difference this time was that I made up and attached the central quilted diamond panel - and decided to ignore the pattern instructions.

The method given is to quilt the fabric onto wadding, cut out the panel with a seam allowance, sew it to the dress right sides together, and turn the seam allowances into the centre. A lining panel is then sewn over the raw edges.

Nope

Even with trimming and grading, this gives two layers of wadding along the seam, with more at the points, and seemed likely to be very bulky. So instead I cut the wadding to the size of the finished panel, then folded the fabric seam allowance over and overcast it onto the wadding.

Demonstrated on the mock-up because I forgot to photograph the 'proper' version!

Then I basted this onto the dress. There were already three rows of basting holding the pleats in position, plus two rows of tailor tacks for making the pleats, so that made for a lot of tacking thread - all of which had to be painstakingly removed afterwards.

Baste-o-rama

I slip-stitched the panel into place, and then overcast all the edges to make them lie a little flatter.

Completed apart from the lining

As with the mock-up, I used machine embroidery thread for the quilting. This time however it was intended to contrast rather than blend in, so I had to be even more precise in my stitching. To really tie in with the dress fabric, I alternated beige and green threads, and then discovered to my chagrin that the difference in colours is invisible on the completed piece. As ever, at least I will know that it's there.

It is two different colours, honestly!

I'm still not convinced that having what looks like either a tiny eiderdown or part of an even tinier barrage balloon attached to your midriff is the last word in haute couture, but that's the eighties for you!

I cannot shift these images from my brain

So that's a lot about the diamond, what about the triangle?

Having finished my cardigan, I need a new knitting project to take when I visit my mum. And dull grey February days call for something cheery. So I'm knitting up my Leaf Peeping yarn from Ewe and Ply. Somehow, it had caked up looking like two entirely different yarns.

Two for the price of one

The original plan was to make another Close to You shawl, but I decided that I didn't really need two of the same pattern in the same yarn, albeit different colourways. Happily for me, Stories of Small Things, who knits lovely shawls, had recently posted her Dandelion Air on Instagram, and it looked like an ideal pattern to show off the colours of this yarn. And it is.

38 rows in

However horrible it may be outside, it's impossible not be cheered up by knitting a couple of rows of this jaunty fruit salad of wool!

A toile for the 1986 dress

Back to Butterick 3794. Having successfully regraded the pattern, the next step was to shorten the bodice pieces to fit, and make a complete toile.

The first mock-up was made from scrap fabric, but for the second I decided to aim for a wearable toile, so bought a remnant of viscose in a weight similar to my 'proper' fabric and a print I would actually wear. As ever with remnants, I had to devise my own cutting layout to fit everything in. My method for doing this is to lay the fabric on the carpet, play around with the placement of the pattern pieces, and then once I have something which works photograph it and label the photo.

Part of my cutting layout

Making the dress up was fairly straightforward, once I had got all the pleats in place. However, there's one construction detail which is invisible in the photograph, ignored in the line drawing on the back of the pattern envelope, and only hinted at in the drawn illustration.

Can you spot it?

It's only really apparent on the pattern piece for the centre front panel. Although all the points of the diamond meet seam lines, the waist seam is not actually on the waist at the centre front.

The 'waistline' marking is the only clue

I had attempted to take this into account when I shortened the bodice front, but there was a degree of guesswork involved. When I tried the toile on, I marked where my actual waist was with a green headed pin.

Marking my waist

When I laid the pattern piece over the top, it was almost spot-on!

The green pin head is just visible

Up to now, I had been fitting the dress with the sleeves in, but not supported. There are gathered stiffeners in the sleeve head, and also shoulder pads which extend beyond the shoulder seam. I put these in, and surveyed the effect. (Apologies for the poor quality of the next photos, they were phone snaps for reference, and not intended for the blog.)

That's a lot of shoulder!

The face you pull when your sleeve head is bigger than your actual head

The sleeves were also rather too long.

Not a problem I usually have

After a bit of pondering, I thought to check where the shoulder seam sat relative to my actual shoulder. Sure enough, it was too far out, and pinching in the shoulder seam fixed the sleeve length and made the fullness - still full, but less absurdly so. I've redrafted the armscye for making the actual dress.

Finally, although for fitting purposes I had used the plain cotton centre panel that I made for the first mock-up, I still needed to make the quilt version in my toile fabric. I had no confidence in my ability to stitch all the lines freehand, so drew them out on a piece of tearaway stabilizer. I laid this over a piece of wadding, with the fabric underneath, and basted all the layers together.

Pinned out and basted together

I then sewed them together, with a silky machine embroidery thread in the bobbin and ordinary thread on top.

All done, and pleasingly parallel lines

I'm trying hard to banish the thought that it looks like a very small eiderdown - hopefully it will look better once it's in the dress!