A new look for Simplicity 1866

So there I was one evening, browsing vintage patterns for sale, when I realised that I had seen the same pattern twice.

I came across this one first

Or so I thought.

Simplicity 1866, described as a "two-piece dress" with a princess line top and a flared skirt, was issued in 1946. A year later, Dior's 'Corolle' line, better known as the New Look, revolutionised fashion with its long full shirts and nipped-in waists. Simplicity seems to have realised that 1866 already contained many elements of the New Look, and reissued the pattern with a longer skirt.

New and old - the two versions side by side

Aside from the skirt length, the artwork is so similar that I feel it must have been altered rather than completely redrawn. The only real difference is that the figure on the right has been given heeled sandals rather than flats.

Heeled shoes and slightly shorter legs make the skirt look even longer

The illustrations on the instructions sheet have obviously been redrawn however, and the new version has been marked as "revised".

The revised version has a much more detailed drawing, with shading

Naturally, the actual instructions are unchanged. The only element which has been redone is the cutting layouts.

Original cutting layout at the top, and revised version below

Not much more fabric is needed for the longer length.

Yardage reqirements

I'm sure that most dressmakers would have been perfectly capable of lengthening the skirt pieces themselves, especially as the finished skirt length of the new version varies across sizes but is never more than 2" longer than the original. Nevertheless it was a shrewd move by Simplicity to emphasise the pattern's New Look credentials by revising it.

The season of the knits

There's something about this time of year which brings knitting to the fore in my mind.

Time to get knitting!

Actually, it's hardly a surprise. Much as I love my workroom, there's no denying that it's quite large, slightly draughty, and has north-facing windows. It's wonderful in the summer, and a welcome refuge in heatwaves, but as the nights draw in the lure of knitting in a comfy armchair close to a heat source is irresistible!

Last autumn, I was full of good intentions to work on my latest Wondrella cardigan which, as a 'winter' knit, had been put to one side in the spring. But I also wanted to get on with my Lothian shawl, and then I made my Express Line cardigan, followed by a second one as a Christmas gift. Add in my opal and green Close to You shawls, and the Poppy and Wool Fair knit-alongs, and my poor Wondrella just didn't get a look-in.

Part of the problem was my decision to add cable bands up the front. I had done a little of this in the bottom section of the cardigan, which is knitted across the full width, and found it tricky.

I had done this much cable, and all of the back

Of course, the longer I left it, the more the difficulty was amplified in my memory, and the less inclined I was to pick it up again. But the arrival of cooler weather reminded me that yes, I really would like to have a dark grey vintage-style winter cardi - and there was only one way to get one which fits!

When I actually started knitting it again, I discovered that the cable wasn't as hard to do as I remembered. It helped that somewhere (unfortunately I can't remember where, so I can't credit the knitter) I had picked up the tip to use a large locking stitch marker as a cable needle. Using an actual cable needle had been one of my big issues - I found it unwieldy and was always worried that it would slip out and drop the stitches - but this worked perfectly. Yes, I have to transfer the stitches back to the left needle rather than knit them off the cable needle, but it's a small price to pay for the confidence that they are going nowhere.

My cable 'needle' in action

Once that was sorted, I really got the bug again. The cable would make any mismatch in the fronts really obvious, so rather than knit one side to completion and then the other, I switched between the two. I knitted the left side to the start of the neckline slit, then the right side to that point and on to the start of the neckline shaping, then the left side to the neckline shaping.

Partway though the left front

Now I've got that shaping to consider. I had added three stitches to each front, to compensate for the way the cable section made them a little narrower, so those stitches have to be removed. I also need to think about how the cable pattern fits in to the shaping. I found it impossible to visualise any of this, so drew out the original pattern version of the necklines for each side on squared paper. Then I redrew them three squares wider on each side, and worked out how best to take out those extra stitches. I also drew out my version of the cable diagrams.

My chart (it makes sense to me!)

Once I was happy with all this, I wrote the instructions out line by line.

Part of my line-by-line instructions

All of this gave me a new respect for people who design knitting patterns; there were times doing this when my brain felt absolutely fried! The next stage is to knit my instructions up, and see if they work. I have, of course, added a safety line on each side - I have a feeling I might need it! But after neglecting it for so long, I’m really enjoying knitting this cardigan again.

Redingotes again

Sometimes I can't leave well alone, and sometimes that leads to unexpected consequences. After posting last week about coat patterns in a 1949 Vogue counter catalogue I continued to ponder why two of them were 'redingotes' but a similar one wasn't.

There's lots online about eighteenth century redingotes such as this one, and the always excellent Witness2Fashion has a fascinating post on how the term was used in the early twentieth century (including some great suggestions for 1920s dress styles if, like me, a horizontal line across your hips is not a look which does you any favours!), but I could find nothing on how the term was used in the 1940s and 1950s. So the only thing to do was go back to the source material.

Two redingotes and a coat

All three patterns are for single-breasted, V-neck, full-skirted coats which only fasten to the waist. However, the coat on the right has a one-piece collar, whereas the others have two-piece collars. As the term redingote originally came from 'riding coat', I suspect that the collar may be a crucial element. The redingotes also have pockets, which open along the seam joining the centre front to the side front. Historically redingotes tended to have a long slit at the back, another detail which came from the male riding coat.

So all things considered it's not surprising that when, a couple of days later, I was browsing Style patterns online, this one jumped out at me.

Style 2861, 1997

Single-breasted V-neck, check. Fullish skirt and only fastens to the waist, check. Two-piece collar, check. The back view shows a very high stitching line for the back vent, giving the long back opening.

The seam lines are clearer on the drawing

The back tab is a modern detail, and the front below the pocket flap is in two pieces rather than one. Conversely, the sleeve is cut in a single piece rather than two. But despite these differences, it's still got a definite redingote look to me. Naturally, it has since been added to my collection of Style patterns.

When it comes to coat making, my track record is really not good - Vogue 1266 has been languishing in my UFO pile for years! But if I ever want to make a redingote, I've now got the means to do so.

Coats, 1949

Brrrr. Storm Amy may have moved on but it's still pretty windy here, and chilly with it. So it seems the perfect time to look at coats in my August 1949 Vogue counter catalogue.

I had assumed that because it's from August there wouldn't be many coats in there, and certainly few that would protect you from an October gale, but I was wrong. I was also surprised by the sheer variety of styles. Many publications about fashion and dress suggest that any given time there is a single 'look', and that is that. But home dressmaking has always been a little more complicated. Yes, it reflects trends, but if patterns for a particular style are continuing to sell then they will remain in the catalogue, whether or not they are the latest fashion.

So here, there are fitted coats and loose coats.

S-4894

S-4923

And loose coats which can be worn belted - although I doubt whether a coat this full could be belted down to a waist this tiny!

S4966

There are raglan sleeves.

6328

Grown-on sleeves (I have added part of the cutting out schematic to make the shape clearer).

S-4973

And no sleeves at all.

6317

Not all of the coats are full length. To me, some of the shorter ones look far more modern than late 1940s.

6706

6841

Following on from a previous post, there is again a degree of confusion about names. This time it's over what makes a coat a redingote.

This is a redingote.

6299 - redingote

As is this.

6670 - redingote

But this is just a coat.

6753 - not redingote

There are a couple of coats with hoods - one detachable and one not.

6294, with detachable hood

6572, with fixed hood

Also detachable is the capelet on this elegant coat.

6586

Finally, I really like the way that the curved yoke on the front of this coat flows into the panel on the back.

S-4954

Almost any of these would keep me nicely warm on an autumn day.