The end of an era?

I must admit that I feel a bit of a hypocrite posting about this, as I can't remember when I last bought a 'Big 4' (Butterick, McCall's, Simplicity and Vogue) pattern which was actually in print at the time. Nonetheless, the news in this article that the brands have been sold to a liquidator came as a shock.

Patterns from the Big 4

All four brands have been part of the same company since 2017, and it's a sign of the decline in home sewing that the deal to bring together the McCall Pattern Company (Butterick, McCall's and Vogue) and Simplicity Creative Group was too small to be investigated as a potential monopoly. The company also owns other brands, which manufacture a lot of their products in China, and the impact of tariffs seems to have been part of the parent group's decision to sell the whole company. The failure of Joann, which accounted for a large part of pattern sales in the US, was another factor.

Of course, the fact that the pattern companies have been sold to a liquidator doesn't mean that they will definitely close down; a buyer may be found. But whether all four brands will continue is another matter. Looking on the UK website, it's hard (for me, at least) to discern any different aesthetic or targeted market between them, and the mishmash of different typefaces and layouts on the same brand doesn't help. Some sort of consolidation seems inevitable.

It's all a bit of a mess

Online at least, there is no shortage of people decrying the Big 4's patterns. Common complaints are that the instructions assume a certain amount of sewing knowledge, and that both pattern and instructions frequently contain errors. I can't comment on the first of these as obviously I do have that knowledge. When I did use modern patterns though, I'd become resigned to finding at least one mistake in them - something which never occurs with my older patterns.

I’m aware that tastes and fashions change, and many people nowadays prefer indie patterns and PDFs. But not everyone is able, or wants, to print out their patterns at home. I certainly don't, and where I live the print shop option is too expensive to be something I'd use regularly. Realistically, the loss of the Big 4 would have very little effect on me as I almost always use older patterns and have the skills to draft my own if necessary. But it would definitely be a loss to the sewing community as a whole, and I very much hope that they (and, of course, their wonderful archives) can be saved in some form.

Sea of Glamour

Sea of Glamour, which I went to see this week, is a photographic exhibition marking 185 years since Cunard's first transatlantic crossing in 1840. It combines images from the Cunard archives, some of which have never been on display before, with photographs contributed by Cunard passengers.

On board Queen Elizabeth, 1960s

Slightly confusingly for anyone who knows Liverpool, it's not being held in the Cunard Building, but in the Royal Liver Building next door.

At the start of the exhibition

Close-up of the photo mosaic

Smaller photos around the walls

And larger ones on banners in the centre

Unfortunately, I have to say that this is not the most rigorously curated exhibition I've ever been to, certainly in terms of captioning. Some details are listed as 'unknown' when the information is clearly visible in the photograph, and some are just wrong. This photograph taken on the Queen Mary is listed as 1940s but, nerd that I am, I spotted that the bedcovers are made from Lucienne Day's 'Calyx' fabric, which first went into production in 1951.

A stateroom on Queen Mary, not in the 1940s

Admittedly that's a very niche detail to notice, but how anyone could think that this photograph was taken in 1914 is beyond me.

Pure thirties glamour on Aquitania

Leaving that aside, here are some of the photos which caught my eye, in (according to the captions) chronological order.

Tug-of-war competition on Carmania, 1924

Actor Tom Mix rides his horse off Aquitania, 1925

Passengers on the promenade deck of Queen Mary, 1930s

On board Aurania 1938-39

Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary were converted into troopships during World War II. After the war, the latter was used to transport war brides and their children to the US and Canada, before being refitted for commercial use.

War brides en route to a new life, 1946

Taking a stroll on deck, also 1946

Queen Mary in the 1950s (when smoking while eating was perfectly normal!)

Colour! Queen Mary, 1950s

The same people, now dancing

More dining on Queen Mary, 1964

Playing chess on Caronia, 1960s

The exhibition also includes some photographs of crew members.

Senior telephonist on board Caronia, 1950s

Stewardesses on Queen Elizabeth

The large banners display photographs submitted by passengers, along with their stories.

A family dinner on Queen Elizabeth, 1955

Naturally, I was attracted to the older images, but one contemporary photo did interest me. Queen Mary 2 has an annual (I think) crossing which recreates the golden age of liner travel. There's a band on board, and guests dress in period clothing. As someone who can get seasick on the Mersey Ferry, the idea of several days at sea crossing an ocean fills me with horror, but I must admit that this looks like fun.

By the pool on Queen Mary 2, 1923

Despite my quibbles, I did very much enjoy Sea of Glamour. It is free to visit in the Royal Liver Building until 17 June, and then sets sail around the world on board the Cunard fleet.

Project roundup

It's been another of those weeks when I haven't had much time for creative activities, so here's a quick update on my various works in progress.

My Wool Fair cardigan has taken a bit of a back seat, as it's been unseasonably warm here in the UK, and it seemed a bit silly to be working on an Aran (worsted) weight cardigan. However I did, finally, complete the back with its endlessly long rows. At this point you cast off 18 stitches at the centre, and then continue to work on one of the fronts.

Starting the front at last

The pattern gives all the instructions for shaping one front and then blithely states, “work left front to match right front”. This sounds like a recipe for disaster, so I am following the advice of several people who have knitted this cardigan already, and am knitting the two fronts simultaneously.

Well, both fronts, actually

This means that the rows are still pretty long, and each one takes me a while to complete. This isn't ideal for knitting at my mum's, where I need something that I can pick up and put down more easily. So when I'm there I work on my new Close to You shawl, and have completed almost half of it. My yarn choice for this one is a definite success; I love the way the colours work together.

Blues, greens and golds

When I first knitted this pattern, I had wondered if it would be possible to add beads between the eyelets. A browse through completed examples on Ravelry confirmed that yes, it was possible, and several people had done it. I followed this tutorial, and am using dark and light gold beads - from my stash, so size unknown.

Close-up of the beads

I've still got a lot to learn about different yarns, so I'm amazed by just how different this wool is from the one I used before, even though they are both 4-ply (fingering). This one is 50% Corriedale and 50% British Mohair, and gives an almost lacy effect on 4mm needles.

Held up to the light

The weather has finally turned here; it's cooler, very windy, and some much-needed rain is falling as I type. I'm feeling personally responsible for this change, as my new sewing project is a sundress. No sooner had I started to cut it out than the skies clouded over!

I'm making view 2

It's another one of my beloved 1979 Style patterns. The fabric is a crinkle viscose which has a nice drape, but is proving tricky to handle. More updates to follow - hopefully quite soon!

53 weeks later

Regular readers (thank you!) with good memories may recall having seen this fabric before.

Looks familiar?

It last appeared on this blog just over a year ago, when I was planning to experiment with batch cutting three projects at once. I said at the time that I wasn't sure how well this would work, and I was right to be dubious. I cut out the top fabric, for Simplicity 4463, and then - I started making it. And that was the end of the experiment.

One third of the plan worked!

Earlier this year I decided to revisit the other two projects. I discovered that I didn't actually have enough of the striped fabric to make Style 1271, so it has been put to one side. Which just left this cotton poplin, which I had earmarked for another Butterick 2535. This time I did have enough fabric to make the longer sleeved version, but decided to stick to short sleeves as I wanted to make a summer dress.

From 1943

One issue with using true vintage patterns is that fabric widths have changed over time, so the cutting layouts provided are of no use. Instead I tend to lay the fabric out on the floor, work out my layout, photograph it, and then cut out on the table working from the annotated image.

Part of my cutting layout

I first made this pattern five years ago and that version, made from Liberty Tana lawn, is still going strong after a lot of wear. This time I did make a couple of adjustments to the pattern, though. The main one was altering the bodice front. I had made it wider to accommodate my larger post-menopausal bust but, for an experienced dressmaker, it took me an embarrassingly long time to realise that I also needed more fabric top to bottom! As a result, several of my older dresses fit around the back and sides but are rather short-waisted at the front. Duh. It's an easy alteration to add length at the centre, tapering to the sides.

Showing the longer bodice front

Other than that, it was pretty much a repeat of the first make. I had almost lost the tie belt of the first version when it came untied, so I made sure to add belt loops to this dress. I also used a skirt hook and bar at the waist of the placket rather than just a hook and eye, and feel that it gives a more secure fasten.

Belt loop and waist fasten

There were the usual button traumas. Nothing in my stash or available locally seemed quite right. Fortunately, I found some I liked at The Swagman's Daughter, and the typeface on the card made me think that they were probably right for the period.

Looks 1930s/40s?

Attached to the dress

The buttonholes were, as ever, hand sewn. (I really must devote some time to learning how to use my Singer buttonholer properly.)

The completed dress

When I first made the pattern in 2020 I wasn't taking seated shots, so here is one this time. The pleats at the front make the dress comfortable to sit in, without there being lots of fabric to contend with.

#sewnshownseated

According to my project notebook, I started this dress at the end of February. That's a long time to make a basic 1940s dress which I have made before, but never mind. Partly it's because I have less sewing time these days, and partly it's because I deliberately took my time. This is a good, basic dress which I know I'm going to wear (and launder) a lot, so I made sure that everything is properly stitched and neatly finished, to maximise its life. Plus, it's another 3.2m out of the stash.

Still a long way to go

Knitting for victory

V for Victory on the back cover

My dress still isn't finished (but I have at least acquired some suitable buttons!) so, as World War II and VE Day have been in the news this week, I'm looking at a wartime issue of Vogue Knitting Book.

The artwork harks back to some of Vogue's Surrealist covers

There's no date to be found anywhere in the publication, but as it's the 21st issue of something which appears to have started in 1932 and was published twice a year, my guess is 1942.

Marking 21 issues

Given that Vogue Pattern Book had no colour photography and limited colour printing the year before, I was surprised by the number of pages in colour.

One of several colour pages

In fact, in places it's hard to believe that this was produced in wartime, amid shortages and rationing.

I wonder how easy it was to get the 15oz of wool required for this

Elsewhere however, it's more obvious.

"Wear white at night" to be seen in the blackout

Keep warm without a fire

The notion that a garment must be knitted in a specific yarn has been abandoned, and there is a chart listing possible alternatives if the first choice isn't available.

Interchangeable wools

The hybrid sewn and knitted dress which featured in the March 1942 issue of Vogue appears here as well, along with another example.

V9246 (l) and V9392 (r), both with knitted bodices

In both cases, the knitting more or less replicates the fabric option.

V9246 showing the knitted and sewn versions

V9392 in fabric

In case the sewing element is beyond the reader's skills, help is at hand via Vogue's Book of Smart Dressmaking.

Shown above a slightly ominous advert for Cuticura ointment

Like the magazine itself, some of the advertisements ignore the war.

No mention of coupon or wool requirements here

While others acknowledge that supplies of item being advertised may be hard to get.

Re-use your Lavenda wool if you can't get new

Save your precious soap flakes for 'best'

For me though, the most mind-boggling thing in the whole magazine is in the Weetabix ad. I know that milk was rationed, but things would have to be desperate before I would consider eating Weetabix dry!

Many things can be eaten dry, but that doesn't make it a good idea