Aristoc

Something of a diversion this week. I recently read this article by Katie Thomas of What Katie Did, about the (possibly terminal) decline of the British hosiery industry. Among other things, it mentioned that Aristoc had gone into receivership. I don't think I've ever bought anything from the Aristoc brand, but I did vaguely remember seeing some of their advertisements in Vogue Pattern Book (Aristoc was always a high-end product, so it made sense that it should advertise in a Vogue publication), and of course I had to investigate. Sure enough, they were one of the very few non sewing-related brands which advertised in there, and did so for a number of years.

Although the pattern book became a standalone publication in 1949, the first Aristoc advert didn't appear until 1952. As this article explains, the company's output had changed dramatically during the war years, so it may have taken some time to return to stocking manufacture. The prime position of the advert, on the outside back cover of the magazine, suggests that Aristoc was willing to spend heavily on advertising. There is minimal information however, just the tagline "the aristocrat of stockings", with no explanation of the different colours of packaging.

June-July 1952 issue

The next advert, a year later, has a similar image, albeit drawn rather than photographed. There is also more copy - including the suggestion that stockings are still in short supply. The text of the logo has changed to white text on a black background, and will remain this way for some time.

June-July 1953

Another year later, and the tagline, logo, and drawing of two hands are still there, but the emphasis is on the male viewpoint.

June-July 1954

This continues in the second advert of this series.

August-September 1954

Unusually, this advert is repeated in the February-March 1955 issue, but on the inside back page. From this point on the adverts are always inside the magazine, but they are always a full page.

Later in the year, a very different approach appears. There is information on some of the different stockings available, along with their prices. There are also stockings "from as little as 8/11d" (107 old pence), but no indication of which ones are this price. For comparison, this issue of Vogue Pattern Book costs 24 old pence, as does a Butterick pattern for a "nightie, brunch coat and lounging outfit", an ordinary Vogue pattern costs 42 old pence, Paris Original patterns cost 102 old pence, and a yard of Marchington printed cotton costs "about" 155 old pence. Despite this hefty price tag, the copy makes reference to young women liking Aristoc stockings.

October-November 1955

I don't know how much research was done into the effectiveness of advertising in the 1950s, but 1956 sees a reversion to the minimalist approach, and the faint suggestion of maturity.

February-March 1956

But later in the year, it's all change again. There's a younger feel, the start of the "fashion looks to" slogan, and both the frame and the font of the logo are less formal. Price information is back, but in line with this being a quality product, it starts with the high price; "16/11 to as little as 6/11".

August-September 1956

The next advert is similar, but has lost the stocking and two hands image which has appeared in some form in all previous versions.

February-March 1957

After this comes a similar look but more formal; a tiara and jewels, but no stocking imagery at all. Its main purpose seems to be imparting the news that Aristoc is now an associate member of the British couture organisation, IncSoc. In line with this, the old logo is back.

October-November 1957

Then, another change of direction. Away from the inside back page, black and white rather than colour, and back to youth and informality. There's a new logo - a black shape over a shadow of the fancy frame, and a very slightly different typeface.

The latters are the same width, but slightly taller

The "fashion looks to" slogan is still there, but also "fully fashioned stockings fit the best!" - presumably a riposte to the arrival of stretch stockings.

August-September 1958

Unusually, the next advert appears in the next issue of the pattern book. This time it's an illustration, but still younger oriented and with the "fully fashioned" slogan. The logo has lost the frame and has a new black shape which reflects the word within it. The pricing now mentions that this is for a pair.

October-November 1958

Two issues later comes a similar advert, but prices are now in ascending order and a smaller range - "8/11, 10/11 and 11/6".

February-March 1959

Then prices disappear, along with most of the copy. The male interest looks rather more raffish than his mid-fifties predecessor - perhaps it's the moustache!

October-November 1959

The cusp of the 1960s sees a simpler image, harking back to earlier adverts. The frame is back in a sketchy form and there is a new slogan "on the heels of fashion".

December-January 1959-60

Frame and slogan are short-lived, as the adverts return to the inside back cover and colour. There's more copy, and prices are back to descending order and October-November 1958 levels. This seems to be aimed at older women again?

April-May 1960

Next comes a softer image, with the logo in a toning colour rather than black.

October-November 1960

I've come to the conclusion that if you spend a lot of time looking at older magazines you will, sooner or later, come across an advert which makes you wonder, "What were they thinking?" The Jaeger tubas were my top example of this - until now. Consider all the Aristoc adverts that have gone before this point. They vary wildly but there is, still, a degree of continuity. But then, we come to this.

February-March 1961

The tagline "the aristocrat of stockings" has gone (although to be fair, there is not much aristocratic about this image). Also, why is model in bright pink to emphasise that shade goes with mint green? And in case you were wondering, the knight in shining armour is not about to start a snowball fight - the round thing he is holding is part of the bridle of his cardboard horse. Obviously.

Someone was clearly so pleased with this image that it appeared again in the next issue. Now with the tagline back and the shadow frame. Not that this improves things much.

April-May 1961

A couple of issues later, everyone has had a lie down and the advertising returns to something like form. Wildest dreams are no longer being fulfilled, instead Aristoc will to "put spice in your life". The tagline and frame are gone again but prices are back, still at "from 12/11 to 6/11 a pair".

August-September 1961

The next advert is very different, but then it is for Christmas. It shows what I assume are packets rather than stockings, and "the aristocrat of stockings" is back. The lowest price has dropped to 5/11, and the reference to pairs has gone.

December-January 1961-2

After this, there is such a long gap that I assumed Aristoc had stopped advertising in the pattern book. But eventually I found this. No longer on the inside back cover, and back to black and white, at first glance it doesn't even look like a stocking advert. It's back to the younger feel, with the slogan "part of your make-up". Possibly there was a tie-in with Elizabeth Arden? The white script on black is now part of the lily of the valley logo, with the main reference being black script on white. There are no price details, and the "aristocrat" reference is part of the copy.

April-May 1964

The next advert is similar, but the tagline is back, the lowest price has dropped even further to 4/11, and the slogan has changed slightly to "Part of your Fashion make-up". Possibly the “girls in pearls” reference is again pointing to the idea that this is a high-end product?

October-November 1964

Elizabeth Arden is replaced by Susan Small in an advert which actually shows stockings. The tagline and white-on-black logo have both gone, but the slogan “part of your fashion make-up” remains. The price range has increased, "from 4/11 to 15/11" - 59 to 191 old pence.

Winter 1965-6

Sadly that seems to have been the end of Aristoc's presence in the pattern book. I looked through issues all the way to 1970, but there were no more adverts. Which is a pity - they took so many different approaches over 14 years that I would have liked to see where they went next.

Mum

Readers who are kind enough to visit this blog regularly (thank you) will know that my mum has been unwell for some time. She defied expectations by surviving the double pneumonia she developed in February, but it left her very frail and she had to move into a nursing home in April. Sadly, she died last week. I had visited her during the day, and she was weak but able to chat a little. It seems to have been very quick.

Mum, aged 21

Mum made the dress she is wearing above, and it was clearly a firm favourite - it appears in lots of photos in the family albums. That this blog exists at all is down to her. I would say that she taught me to sew but, apart from how to thread her (now my) Singer 99, I don't recall her ever sitting me down and teaching me something. Mum making clothes for herself or me was just part of my childhood, and I seem to have simply absorbed her skills by being around her as she sewed. There are no photos of Mum sewing, but this image which I found online brought back happy memories.

This will be familiar to anyone who had a mum who sewed

My interest in vintage dressmaking began with one of her old patterns, and her knowledge was invaluable when I was first navigating the world of unprinted tissue pieces and terrifyingly scant instructions.

My first vintage sewing project, many years ago

Mum always took an interest in what I was working on, and more than once I threw a troublesome project onto the back seat of my car and drove over to ask her advice. It always helped. Even when she was in the home, she was still asking about my sewing plans. It seems odd that my 1915 ensemble will be last project that I was able to discuss with her.

She did knit a few things for me when I was very small, but she wasn't really a knitter. However she absolutely loved the cardigan that I made for her, and wore it almost all the time. It’s good to know that I was able to pay her back even a tiny amount for everything she gave to me.

With Mum in (clockwise from top left) 1986, 1991, 2020 and 2024

Mum was 95 when she died, lived independently until last summer, drove until she was 93, was happily married for 66 years, travelled extensively, and remained interested in life and the world pretty much to the end. It was a good life, well lived, and I was hugely lucky to have her in mine for so long. I shall miss her enormously.

2026 plans

Yes yes, I know that a mere seven days ago I said that I wasn't going to make any plans for 2026. And I meant it. I simply haven't got the sewing time at present for any resolutions which involve completing a specific number of items in 12 months, so any challenges like MakeNine or UseNine are out. And let's face it, in over a decade of writing this blog there was only one year when I completed everything I had set out to do - and it wasn't even the year when there was nothing to do but stay at home and sew!

The change of heart has come courtesy of sewover50 over on Instagram, who created a template of sewing goals to choose from for 2026. And this seemed like something I could manage to tie in with whatever sewing I do manage to do.

My choices

"Slow sewing" was an easy choice as it is always on my agenda now. I don't exactly have a shortage of clothing to rectify, so I try to ensure that what I make is considered, and carefully done.

"Know my machine" may seem an odd choice for someone whose main machine is a 1930s treadle! But it has box full of different feet, most of which I have never used, so I intend to at least try some of them.

I'm not even sure what some of these do!

On top of that Singer seems to have had an unwavering, if commercially unwise, commitment to sparing customers from having to upgrade to a newer model. All sorts of impressive attachments were created to mimic the actions of a modern swing needle mechanism on your trusty fixed needle machine. I have several of these but have never tried using them. If nothing else, I want 2026 to be the year when I tackle the buttonholer.

For hemstitch, four types of zigzag, and buttonholes

That could also come under the category of "Build skills" but for this goal the main thing I want to do is something I have threatened for years, namely learn pattern grading. My hand is being forced on this one, as the pattern for the project I want to do next is only available in a size much smaller than the one I need.

Finally, "I must try". I'm not sure yet what this will involve, but I'm hoping to venture out of my sewing comfort zone at least a little. This is the goal I'm least confident of achieving, as time pressures and other stresses make comfort sewing very appealing, but at least it's on there as a prompt.

The new normal

Tangentally-related knitting picture

I'm quite a private person in real life, and that's reflected in this blog; it very rarely strays beyond my little world of making, home dressmaking history, costume, and reviews of books or exhibitions which are linked to these topics. But as I prepared to write yet another piece which started with the words "Only a short post this week", I decided it was time to explain to my regular readers (thank you) a bit about what’s going on. If this isn't your thing don't worry, normal service will be resumed next week.

A couple of months ago I mentioned that my mum, who is 95 next weekend, had fallen and ended up in hospital. Mum's short-term memory had started to deteriorate before then but the fall, the infection which caused it, and the subsequent month spent away from home really exacerbated this. We are awaiting a formal assessment and diagnosis, but it's obvious that she has some form of dementia.

She has always been adamant that whatever happens she wants to stay in her own home, so she has carers coming in (who are excellent), and I go over to visit several times a week. It's not a massive distance but, depending on the traffic, it can take a while. The to-do list never seems to diminish, and Mum has good days and bad days - and I come home from the latter both physically and mentally shattered. And I'm well aware that from here things are only going to go one way.

None of this is to complain. I've been incredibly fortunate to have my mum in good health for so long, and both she and my dad were a huge support both during Mr Tulip's illness and after he died. But there's no denying that my life has entered a new phase, and it's one in which my privileges of time and energy to create, and even research and write blog posts, will be reduced. My promise to Mr Tulip to keep the blog going still stands, but I expect that posts will remain short, and there will be fewer completed projects.

Completing projects is further hampered by the fact that I'm often distracted, and so make more mistakes; both my latest Wondrella cardigan and my Reyna scarf have gone a bit awry recently. I managed to unravel the Wondrella as far as the mistake and then pick up all the stitches again (I impressed myself!), but undoing rows of the mesh section of the Reyna is going to be a major operation. Hence the picture at the top of this post - one thing which is definitely my new normal is lots more safety lines in my knitting!

Ste Anne, again

Only a very short post this week, as I've been busy with family commitments. Yesterday was Saint Anne's Day, the patron saint of seamstresses, and I managed to find time to make good on my previous threat to recreate this postcard.

Vive Ste Anne - version one

Even if I had had more time, it seemed silly to make a new dress just for this. So instead, I wore the version of Style 1571 which I made from vintage fabric. From my attempts to date the print, it seemed around the right era for the image. There was no way I could recreate the hair, so I stuck with one of the styles on the pattern envelope. Also, none of my sewing machines are as 'modern' as the one on the postcard (my money is on it being a Singer 319 - yes, I am that nerdy!), but I did at least use my mum's 1950s Singer 99 rather than my much earlier treadle. Finally, I managed to find some flowers which went with the yellow and pink in the dress, and even the pincushion matched the colour scheme!

Vive Ste Anne - version two!

All in all, it was a lot of fun to do, and a welcome diversion in what have been a stressful couple of weeks.

Pierre Balmain

My desire to take my time and create a well-made garment which will last is clearly greater than my desire to participate in a sewing challenge! The pineapple dress is coming on nicely, but definitely won't be finished for tomorrow's deadline for SewFruity2025. And I'm fine with that. It does, however, leave me in need of a blog post subject. So as this project is the second time that I've taken inspiration from a Pierre Balmain dress, I thought I'd explore some more of his designs.

Balmain to the rescue for bodice ideas

Unusually for the founder of a couture house, the only publication solely about him seems to be his autobiography. Nor could I find any references to exhibitions of his work. In fact, it turned out that viewings at Kerry Taylor Auctions were probably where I had seen his pieces most often.

This circa 1947-48 black wool crepe day/dinner dress was my favourite item in the very first viewing that I went to, back in December 2014.

I still love this

Then of course, a year later I saw the Holly Dress.

The inspiration for my most ambitious project ever

Other pieces I have seen at Kerry Taylor, in date order, are these.

Beaded dress, 1954

Medallions dress, 1955

Tricolour dress, 1955

Wrapped silk dress, 1957

Tricolour dress, late 1950s

I would love to have a go at making most of these. In fact, I have kept all the close-up images of the medallions dress - just in case! However, if I do want a Balmain dress then an easier way of doing it would almost certainly be via one of the Vogue Paris Original patterns which I own.

Vogue Paris Original 2654, 1971

Vogue Paris Original 1857, 1987

Not that I'm short of other projects to do, but that's never stopped me!

Vive Ste Anne

26 January is probably the most inappropriate date possible for this subject, but I realised that I hadn't explained the first picture in last week's post, so here goes.

Some time ago, when looking online for a particular image of a woman sewing, I kept coming across picture postcards of women sitting at sewing machines with a vase of flowers placed somewhere totally unsuitable.

Accidents waiting to happen

All of the images, like the three above, had "Vive Ste Anne" on them. I discovered that St Anne's Day is 26 July, i.e. six months from today, and that she is the patron saint of seamstresses. St Anne's Day cards seem to have been very popular, with manufacturers producing lots of variations on a theme.

Clearly all taken at the same time

That particular huge vase appears to have had a lot of use.

Different flowers, sewists and machines, same vase

If you didn't want a vase (or you had already accidentally knocked it onto the floor and broken it), you could just scatter the flowers around instead.

From 1916, one of the earliest examples I found

Or you could relegate them to a nearby table, and have a photograph in the way instead.

A variation on the theme

What almost none of the images show is any understanding of how to actually sew. I'm going to be charitable, and assume that the first one of these was the result of a printing mix-up. The other examples just seem to have completed garments placed randomly under the needle.

Left-handed sewing machine?

How could you even sew like that?

The world's clumsiest alteration

How is she going to get out?

This one is a rare example of something which looks almost realistic. The fact that there is a pin rag wrapped around the machine suggests that it was actually used for sewing, and not just a prop.

The pin rag obscures the last two letters of SINGER

This lady in her very chic 1930s top does also seem to know what she is doing, but I'm intrigued by the fact that two photographs obviously taken in the same session have different names on them. Perhaps the photographer took a lot of shots, and then offered them to different printers. (Also, the only time I ever look that pleased to be interrupted when I'm sewing is if the person is bringing me a cup of tea, but that's by the by!)

"PC" and "FOX"

Then there's a whole category of images which would give health and safety officers nightmares.

Do not point scissors at your eye . . .

or cut things without looking . . .

or guide fabric through the machine with your elbow

All of this (apart from the 'danger to life and limb' pictures, obviously) prompted me to try creating my own St Anne photos. The first one I did aimed for a 1940s look with my Autumn Roses dress, and the second was teens era using my Armistice blouse.

'Sewing' through my press cloths

More random fabric, and an antique thread spool

I was wondering what to do next, as St Anne's Day cards appear to be a 1910s to 1940s thing, and I don't have many 1920s or 1930s clothes. But then, I found this.

1960s?

Challenge accepted. So now I have six months to create something similar!