Riviera dress progress

I start my course next week, so have been busy preparing for that. I have found time to inch a little further forward on my Riviera dress, though, adding the zip and neck facing. I did the zip first because the neckline felt a tiny bit baggy at the back (a common problem for me), so I took the back seam in slightly at the top. Once I was happy with the fit, I attached the facing and trimmed off the excess.

The dress on Nancy

In theory, that should be the dress almost finished, with only the hem and understitching the facing left to do. But when I tried it on, I wasn't convinced.

Please excuse the atrocious mirror shot

A quick glance at the Vintage and Contemporary gallery pages of this blog will show that I don't shy away from bold prints, but overall this one just feels too busy. Possibly it's the lack of a belt - there's no plain contrast area to give the eye a moment to rest. Then I remembered this pattern in my collection, from three years earlier.

Butterick 8131, 1957

It has a similar bodice with grown-on sleeves, and I really like the neckline treatments of views B and C. Time to experiment with something similar.

New (to me) patterns

All sorts of problems and distractions have prevented me from doing any sewing this week, so instead here's a short post about my latest vintage pattern acquisitions.

First up is this Style pattern.

Style 1451

I'm getting increasingly fond of late 1950s/early 1960s 'Style print' patterns, and am building up a bit of a collection - you can see some of them here. What attracted me to this one was the view A illustration. I have a remnant of blue and grey plaid in my stash which is quite similar, and it struck me that this might be a good use for it.

I have no current plans for this DuBarry pattern, I just liked it.

DuBarry 1658, 1937

According to A History of the Paper Pattern Industry, DuBarry patterns were sold exclusively in Woolworths stores and produced for Woolworths by Simplicity. The DuBarry patterns I own were all printed in Canada, and most have the UK price shown on a stick-on label. This is the first one I've come across with the price given in both U.S. cents and British old pence.

What can I say about my final pattern? I've posted many times in this blog about my love of the 1940s revival styles from the late 70s/early 80s, and nothing can shift my fondness for a (subtly) defined shoulder. But this, well this is something else.

Hollywood 1516

Despite what has been written on the envelope, both Blueprints of Fashion and the Commercial Pattern Archive date this pattern to 1945. The, ahem, remarkable shoulder feature is described in the pattern pieces as a "flange", and is set into the side-front seam at the front and the sleeve seam at the back.

Pattern pieces and back view

I don't think that Hollywood patterns (a budget offshoot of Vogue) were ever sold in the UK. Certainly this pattern, with its ornamental buttons, multiple seams, deep pleats, and associated hefty fabric usage, would have contravened the CC41 clothing regulations.

Yardages for bust sizes of 28" to 36"

Resizing it to fit me would be quite an undertaking, but I am tempted to try. Probably view three, though. It may be the red and black, but I'm getting distinct Flash Gordon vibes from those flanges - and that's not a look I need in my wardrobe!

The right tool for the job

I have picked up my long-neglected Riviera dress again. Even with a very unseasonal September heatwave, it isn't going to get any wear this summer, but I do want to finish it rather than leave it languishing as a UFO over the winter.

Not really a mid-September dress

Having completed the bodice, the next stage was another new technique, the corded piping detail at the waist seam. The pattern calls for ⅛" wide cording, but none of the piping cords in my local fabric shop were anywhere close to that thick. Instead I got some soft white cotton cord - and gave it a good soak in boiling water to pre-shrink it.

⅛" is surprisingly chunky

I don't think that I've ever put piping on a garment before. The closest was the blind piping, i.e. without cord, on my 1930s wrapover pinny (which, incidentally, has proved to be a very useful garment and gets a lot of wear), which I made and applied with guesswork.

The instructions are to wrap the cord in a bias strip of fabric, sew this down with a cording foot, then baste the cord to the bodice and finally sew bodice and skirt together.

It looks so simple!

I didn't have a cording foot, so I used a narrow, hinged, adjustable zipper/cording foot, which seemed like a good substitute.

First attempt

Reader, it did not go well. Despite my careful adjusting of the foot position, the stitches came out some distance from the cord. When I tried pushing the whole thing closer to the needle, I frequently sewed through the cord itself.

Happily for me, I then found an actual cording foot on ebay. Singer clearly made cording feet to go to the left of the right of the cord, and this was a left toe model.

Second attempt

I unpicked my mangled stitching, and tried again with my new toy. Perfection! Sadly, I didn't think to take a photograph.

I basted the covered cord onto the bodice, then made up the skirt. I had followed Tasha's excellent pattern-matching tutorial when cutting out the skirt backs, and was really pleased with the end result.

Pattern matched joy!

When it came to sewing the waist seam, I had a problem. Because my cording foot is left-toed, all the fabric has to go to the right of the needle, and with a bodice and a full skirt, that's a lot of material. So I convinced myself that it was either the narrowness or the hinged nature of the zipper foot which had caused the problem, and sewed the seam with a wide, rigid, adjustable zipper/cording foot.

Third attempt

This did not go well, either. Again, the stitching was some way out from the cord, which meant that the stitching which held the fabric round the cord was visible, and the whole thing looked a mess. There was nothing for it but to try again with the cording foot. Fortunately, because I was sewing on Tilda, my 66K treadle, there was ample space for all the fabric.

Sure enough, the cording foot did the job.

Ta-dah!

I think that the secret lies in the shape of the foot. Whereas the adjustable feet have straight edges, this foot curves out towards the notch for the needle, which seems to push the cord closer to the line of sewing.

The right side has a definite curve

When I looked for the Simanco part number, I noticed that the foot was made in the USA. I wonder if they were only made in America?

Part 15429, the 'U' of 'USA' is just visible

Either way, the hunt is now on for a right toe version. This is clearly an extra foot worth having!

Vogue’s Book of Practical Dressmaking - part 2, advice

After looking at the advertisements last week, it's now time to look at the actual sewing information in the 1926 edition of Vogue's Book of Practical Dressmaking. It starts with - an advertisement of sorts for Vogue patterns.

This emphasises the exclusive nature of Vogue patterns

This is followed by a table of contents with a difference.

Showing where to find information on different parts of dressmaking

The reasons for learning to sew include cost savings, but there are also several other factors as well.

Sewing is fun! Sewing is easy! Discuss

After all this, we get down to the nitty gritty, starting with how to cut out.

Beginning at the beginning

As with the 1930s edition, there are several spreads on the order of work for various garments.

Making a dress, step by step

Many of the sections relating to specific areas of construction are two-page spreads, with the first page covering the basics and the second giving more complex examples.

Sleeves, part one - setting in

Sleeves, part two - related techniques

In this way, the book does a good job of providing something for both beginners and more experienced dressmakers alike. I'm not sure if complete beginners would start off with a Vogue pattern but if they did, the book offers some suggestions.

From ultra-simple to slightly more complex

The pattern instructions may have been "drawn from life", but the section on how to take measurements certainly wasn't - even by 1930s figure-drawing standards it's absurd.

No-one is that shape

If your measurements didn't match up to the ideal, there are several pages on how to alter patterns while keeping the Vogue lines.

This is followed by six pages of diagrams and examples

There's sound (if probably largely ignored) advice on sewing machines and getting to know the attachments - even now I haven't tried out all of the attachments which came with my vintage machines. I was surprised by the suggestion that in 1926 most new machines came with a light attached.

Several useful tips in here

Finally, another advertisement, this time for Vogue itself.

Buy Vogue!

I don’t know about anyone else, but now I really want to read the "Guide to Chic" for the "Small, Fluffy Woman"!

Vogue’s Book of Practical Dressmaking - part 1, advertisements

The 'Georgian lady' V insignia makes an appearance

I recently added this 1926 publication to my library of old sewing manuals. Like its successor, it only cost one shilling.

Showing the full size

This seems very reasonable, given that at the time Vogue magazine itself cost one shilling per fortnightly issue and Vogue Pattern Book, which was then sold separately and had six issues per year, cost one shilling and sixpence (1½ shillings). Most Vogue patterns cost either one shilling and sixpence or two shillings and sixpence, while a few "last minute especially advanced designs" cost four shillings.

Vogue Pattern Book information

I'm guessing that the low price was because the book was a sort of loss leader, to sell more patterns, and also to sell the pattern book and Vogue itself. It also made some money for Condé Nast by carrying advertisements at the front and back of the book, which are the subject of this post. Click on any of the images to enlarge them.

There are more advertisements than in the 1932 edition. As with later copies of Vogue Pattern Book, they are a mixture of sewing-related and more general female-interest items.

Harrods took out two separate adverts, one at the front and one at the back. The first lists some of the fabrics they have for sale, mostly wools and silks, and is one of the few to include prices.

So many fabrics, in so many colours!

The second is for synthetic 'Celanese' fabrics (made from wood pulp), available in different weights for dresses and lingerie.

"Textures for every fashion need"

The manufacturer British Celanese advertised their relatively new fabric as well, albeit without any details of stockists.

Extolling the virtues of 'Celanese'

Not to be outdone, Courtaulds also advertised, although their fabrics seem to have been exclusively for lingerie.

"Cami-Bockers"?

Clearly there was competition in the synthetic fabrics market, hence the 'Xantha' name being included on the selvedge. A similar tactic was used by Louis Velveteen. I've been able to find adverts for this product going back to 1885, but none later than this one.

Was this the last hurrah for Louis Velveteen?

According to this website, John Falconer and Co was founded in 1928, and was taken over by House of Fraser in 1952.

Tweeds from Aberdeen

Kendal Milne also became part of the House of Fraser group. Now called Kendals it is that rarest of things, a department store which still exists (although I doubt if it still sells fabric).

Samples by post - the internet shopping of its day

There is an advertisement for Darnley's in the 1928 issue of Vogue which I blogged about here, so possibly they were regular advertisers.

All the awkward bits done for you

Unsurprisingly, the only clothing advertisements are for items which home dressmakers could not make themselves.

George West seem to have specialised in rainwear

Corset adverts appeared regularly in Vogue Pattern Book

How to make yourself entirely cylindrical

Shoes only occasionally appeared in the pattern book

But stockings, especially Aristoc, were another regular

Like Aristoc, Ovaltine and Boots are still going strong.

Don't omit to soothe and feed your nerves

When Boots sold laundry soap

Phyllis Earle was founded in 1918, and seems to have later concentrated on hairdressing. If this rather alarming advertisement for its skincare is anything to go by, that may have been a wise decision.

This would not tempt me to buy a product

Sandwiched between these advertisements is about 60 pages of sewing information, but that will be the subject of another post.

Back to school again

I don't seem to have had a lot of time for sewing this year, and now I'm about to have even less. Starting next month, I am enrolled on a single module of the English degree at the University of Chester. Called "Fashioning Fictions", it looks at the role of clothing, fabric, objects and, of course, fashion in fiction.

My reading matter for the next few months

For anyone squinting at the above picture on their phone, the books are:
The Ladies’ Paradise, Émile Zola
Gigi, Collette
The Pursuit of Love, Nancy Mitford
The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
Quicksand, Nella Larsen
The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood
Blue Nights, Joan Didion

There is one other set text, "Girl, Woman, Other" by Bernadine Evaristo. A friend is lending me her copy, but she has just moved house and has yet to unearth it! Fortunately it is studied later in the course. I rarely seem to read fiction these days, so this is going to be a bit of a change. However, the 'historical' texts cover some of my favourite periods, costuming-wise, so reading them with a particular interest in references to clothing and fashion will hardly be a hardship.

On top of that, one of the things which drew me to the module was the fact that there is an option to submit a sewn or knitted piece in one of the assignments. I am hoping that this may be the prompt for me to take up my long-neglected historical dressmaking again. I am also really looking forward to having the run of an academic library once more!