The Return of the Ladylike Suit

It seems I just can’t get way from that word – ladylike.  Just as I was finishing the jacket to my emerald green silk suit, the weekend Wall Street Journal arrived with this article in the Off Duty – Style & Fashion section:  “Gran Larceny – Fashion’s latest rebellion is co-opting looks from grandma’s closet.”

This photo, copyright The Wall Street Journal, is the lead photo for the article.

To quote from this article by Alexa Brazilian:

“Is conservative the new radical?    The fashion world certainly seems to think  so  . . .    Designers are reimaging soignée staples for spring and summer – skirt suits, twin sets, below-the-knee dresses, kitten heels and frame bags – that appear anything but moth-eaten.

“ ‘A young girl now doesn’t want to dress like her mother; she finds her grandmother much cooler,’ said Nina Ricci creative director Peter Copping, who designed skirt suits inspired by his own nana.  ‘She wore little smart tweedy suits.  I always had a romantic notion of that.’ “

And then later in the article is this statement by Christopher Kane (which I might frame and put on the wall in my sewing room!):  “Ladylike is the ultimate sexiness,” said the designer.  “It’s clean, elegant and in control.  The famous saying, ‘It’s the quiet ones you need to watch,’ definitely applies to this style.”

Well, I won’t necessarily feel radical or even sexy when I wear my new green skirt suit, but I do believe it is an example of that ladylike style of the early 1960s — which actually makes sense since the pattern is indigenous to that decade.

This is the pattern from the 1960s I used for my suit.

And here is the suit finally finished.

I make a few changes to the design once I made the muslin for it.  First, I added two tapering darts to the back.  It was supposed to have a boxy feel to it, but I felt a little narrower silhouette would be more flattering to me.  I also lengthened the jacket by about 1 and ½ inches.

The jacket is still “boxy” but less so with the added darts.

I decided to make the sleeves below elbow length, so I added another inch and ½ to them.  Then I had to narrow them a bit as well to make them look proportional.

Now to the fun part:  the two dressmaker details I added.  In an earlier post, I already showed the turquoise silk lining fabric I chose.  Once I had such a dramatic contrast in the works, I thought I’d push the envelope a bit farther.  I found silk bias ribbon in a lovely periwinkle color and used it to add an edge detail to the lining in the body of the jacket.

Here is the bias silk ribbon attached to the edge of the lining…  Click on the photos to see them up close.

… and one more picture of it.

This was so much fun to do and made attaching the lining to the jacket very easy, as all I had to do was “hand-stitch in the ditch” where the silk ribbon and the lining fabric were sewn together.

Here is what the finished edge looks like.

When I found the gold buttons for the jacket, I immediately knew that adding buttons to the sleeves would make it all look more complete.

The gold buttons added to the sleeves and another view of the lining (and the back of the bound buttonholes).

And here is a close-up of the larger buttons for the front of the jacket, with their bound buttonholes.

The last thing I did was attach the label to the inside front of the jacket.

The silk shell I am wearing is a RTW one. I purchased it last Spring and now have something with which to wear it!

Another view, with jacket over my shoulder.

When I found this emerald green silk matka online last Fall at Waechter’s Fine Fabrics, I envisioned a skirt suit – or dressmaker suit, as this type of dressy suit is also called – but I had not progressed beyond that in my planning.  Well, now this new grandmother is feeling pretty fortunate that, not only did I grow up with the styles from the 1960s, but they are making me feel quite fashionable now that I am in my 60s!

What Comes First – the Jacket or the Skirt?

Sewing has lots of decisions with it, some more important than others.  One of the decisions I face when making a two-piece suit (my current project) is: which part do I make first – the jacket or the skirt?  Instruction sheets are divided on this, as some start with the skirt, others with the jacket.  It would make sense, I guess, to start with the more difficult or more complicated half, which would most likely be the jacket.  So why do I usually make the skirt first?  Here’s what I think:

1) If the skirt and jacket are of the same fabric, making the skirt gives me “practice” with the feel of the fabric.  This comes in handy when I’m turning facings or collars on the jacket.

2) I’ve made enough jackets to know that I’m always kind of exhausted when they’re finally finished.  I’m not sure I’d want to be facing making the matching skirt, too, at that point in the process!

3) It’s easier and just plain better to make the final fitting of the jacket if it can be viewed with its accompanying skirt.

4) And finally, well . . .   I can always wear the skirt if the jacket doesn’t get completed right away, right??

So – what about progress on my emerald green silk suit?

This is the pattern I am using (View B), as written about in a former post.

Yes, the skirt is finished, which allows me to give you a sneak preview.

An interior view of the waistband and lining.

What do you think of that turquoise china silk lining?  Failing to find a green lining fabric, which would coordinate or match, turned out to be an advantage.  I had to choose something else – and, I must say, I love this combination.

Here is a view of the hand-picked zipper.

The jacket is still in pieces, but very controlled pieces they are!  Here they are all ready to go:

The silk organza underlining is all basted, interfacings cut, ready for sewing.

I am hoping that this suit will serve me similarly to the description of this green suit in the October/November 1962 Vogue Pattern Book Magazine:

“Colors to go wild about” – in 1962 and in 2013.

To quote:  “… a pure green with perfect pitch for day or evening, town or country.”  This particular design is by Michael of England, but, like the Vogue pattern I am using, it has a fitted jacket with a narrow notched collar, and three-quarter sleeves.

In the same issue of VPB Magazine, a letter to the editor caught my attention.  Mrs. B. M. of the Bronx, New York, wrote:  “… When I make a suit, I always buy extra fabric and also run up a slim dress.  This lets the suit jacket do ‘double duty’ and I have both a suit and a jacket-dress, while having to make only one jacket.  This saves me time and expense, and I enjoy having a variety of costumes that I can wear almost anywhere, in a fabric I love.”

Now I wonder what she made first – the jacket – or the skirt – or the dress?  I’m exhausted just thinking about it!

Back to the Past

I am finally back in my sewing room, working on my emerald green silk suit.  The event to which I had hoped to wear this suit has come and gone (I wore something else that evening and the world somehow kept on spinning – amazing!), but this sewing project was and is on my Spring agenda and I am bound and determined to finish it.  Until I have made a bit more progress, with something to show for it, I thought I would indulge you with a book review of the 1956 Claire McCardell (1905-1958) book, What Shall I Wear, re-published in 2012 by The Rookery Press, in association with The Overlook Press, New York, New York.

This book came to my attention by way of The Vintage Traveler blog (thanks, Lizzie!).  I purchased it on Amazon last Fall, and then, to my surprise, it was one of five books chosen by Christina Binkley of  The Wall Street Journal for her annual list of “Best Style Books”.

This annual feature on “style books” in The Wall Street Journal is always one of my favorites.  It appeared on December 20, 2012.

Here from Binkley’s review of the book: “This book is a gem.  …It manages to be modern more than 60 years later…  The designer created chic casual items that we take for granted today, such as trim ankle pants and full skirts that permit comfort and movement.  … She demonstrates an understanding of women’s lives. ‘Everyone should have a “pop-over” dress – a sheath that they can just pop over their head and go.’”

Here are some of Claire McCardell’s fashion tips and thoughts which struck a chord with me, especially in relation to sewing and dressmaking:

1)  The simple act of changing buttons (or in sewing, choosing the right ones) can make a dress fit your style.

2) When putting together your clothing (or pattern and fabric) budget, consider carefully where you want to put your money.  Make one major purchase a year, something classic and timeless is always a smart move.

3) Use color extensively and don’t be afraid to stretch from your normal palette.

4) Coats should be a large part of your wardrobe.  Indeed, she recommends compiling a “Coat Collection”.  That’s advice sweet to my ears!

5) Learn how to tie a scarf!  In her words:  “You miss all the fun if you can’t tie things.”  “If you really care about Fashion, sit down right now and learn to tie.  An ascot, a bandanna, a neckband, a bowknot.  This means knowing how to fold first, knowing how to loop next, knowing how to get the knot straight, knowing how to make the ends even – or uneven – on purpose.”

6)  Like all the great fashion designers and couturiers, she emphasizes the overwhelming importance of fit.  All those muslins/toiles we make are worth the time they take!

7) Accessorize your outfits with the appropriate jewelry, shoes, and bags.  Restraint is better than opulence.

8) She was a big fan (and proponent) of the “American Look”: meaning comfortable clothing with clean lines, displaying elegant simplicity.

The final chapter of the book is appropriately entitled:  Fashion has no last chapter.

You can read here for yourself her Essential Eleven.  Pay particular attention to #2!

As a preface to this list, McCardell states: “There is a great deal in common between the woman who designs clothes and the woman who knows clothes.”  (Click on the photo for a close-up).

Earlier in the book on page 103, she relates her first experience with dressmaking: “Miss Annie … came to the house to make clothes for mother and me.  The process fascinated me from the start – selecting the pictures of dresses in the Vogue Pattern Book, the fabrics to be bought at the dry-goods store, the cutting and basting and fitting, the pockets and buttons and buttonholes…”

Surely sewing and dressmaking have no last chapter either:  What will you wear?  What will you sew?

Fifty little dresses!

Can you guess??  It’s a girl!

Our dear daughter and her wonderful husband have given us our first grandchild.  Little Aida was born on March 19^th in the middle of a last-day-of-Winter New England snow storm.  She weighed 6 pounds, 12 ounces and was 19.5 inches long.  Of course, she is beautiful and dainty and looks like she will wear little dresses with delight!

Aida – one week old

I had the wonderful opportunity to spend three weeks with my daughter, Susanna, son-in-law, Jon, and baby Aida to help them over the initial hospital stay and adjustment to home.  I cooked and baked and cleaned and shopped for groceries and did laundry, and cooked and baked and cleaned and shopped for groceries and did laundry, and cooked and baked and cleaned and . . .   did all the things my daughter could not do.  (Aida was persistently in breech position while in utero and, despite heroic efforts to get her to turn, remained so, necessitating a c-section.) Sewing and blogging went unattended, but such is life in all its sweetness and toil.

I also sang silly songs to Aida, whispered in her ear about Christian Dior and Cristobal Balenciaga and about sewing from pretty Vogue patterns, and we planned tea parties and dolls’ fashion shows.  No time like the present to get these things started, right?

Aida’s birth brought back many memories of the birth of her mommy – my daughter –  almost 32 years ago.  Before Susanna was born, I bought this book as a gift to myself and took it with me to the hospital.

This beautiful book by Kitty Benton was published in 1981, by Hearst Books, New York. It is extensively illustrated, with explicit instructions for every project. It also has a complete section on Sewing Techniques, including smocking, embroidery stitches, hems, sewing on buttons, etc., etc. The book is an invaluable guide for heirloom sewing. Copies of it are available on Amazon and through a few Etsy shops.

Of course, I didn’t know we were having a girl (neither did Susanna and Jon).  Then I found myself so busy and overwhelmed with my growing family (Susanna’s brother was born less than two years later), that somehow I never used the ideas in this book, preferring commercial patterns for all the sewing and smocking I did for my two.  But I never stopped looking at it, and never gave up hope of making some of the lovely clothing and gifts.

The blue gingham dress, adorned with a spray of embroidery flowers, is my favorite dress in the entire book. Yes, I think Aida would wear this dress well!

A red dress with a white pinafore – so cute!

Two little bishop dresses.

And here is a sampling of some of the timeless gifts, instructions for which are presented in the book. Even the teddy bear can be home-made!

Could it be that Aida will reap the rewards of this gift to myself from so many years ago?  I hope so, I do hope so.

Little Aida in my arms, with Porter, the Bernese Mountain dog, looking on. Such blessings!

Suited for Spring

Last Fall when I found emerald green matka silk on Waechter’s website, I quickly purchased 3½ yards.  At 45” wide, I knew that amount would be enough for a Spring suit although I really did not know which pattern I would be using.  It seems I often  purchase fabric and then end up not actually using it for a year – or more.  But with emerald green so front and center in fashion this year, I definitely decided to make this project a top priority.

This is the silk I ordered from Waechter’s Fine Fabrics.

I envisioned what is known as a “dressmaker suit.”  Fairchild’s Dictionary of Fashion (3^rd edition, Fairchild Publications, Inc, New York, New York, 2003) gives this definition:  “Woman’s suit made with soft lines and fine details, as contrasted with man-tailored styles that have the sharply defined lines of a man’s suit made by a tailor.  Fashionable in 1950s and revived in the mid-1980s.”  Specifically, I envisioned a straight skirt (aka pencil skirt in today’s fashion parlance), a short-ish, dressy jacket with some neat detail on it, and adorned with buttons to compliment the sheen and slubby texture of the silk.

First step was to go to my pattern box, brimming over with vintage patterns (and a few new ones).  I quickly had my selection narrowed down to two possibilities, but one was actually a sheath dress with coordinating jacket, not a jacket and skirt. (Yes, there is a definition for this category as well, according to Fairchild’s:  “Suit dress:  Used in 1960s to refer to a jacket and dress ensemble that resembled a tailored suit.”)

Is it the hat that makes this ensemble so appealing – or just good styling?

I hashed over the two reservations I had about using this pattern:  1) I was a little short on yardage – about a quarter of a yard – and just not completely confident that I would be able to cut this pattern out with the generous seams that I have come to like so much, and 2) I have a RTW (gasp!) silk shell top which will look stunning, I think, paired with an emerald green silk skirt and matching jacket.  So in the end, I decided to go with a dressmaker suit to be made from this pattern:

I’ll be making View B, which just happens to be shown in emerald green!

And then, the bonus!  Actually three of them . . .  I had forgotten that tucked inside the pattern envelope were two clippings obviously placed there by the original owner of the pattern.  She was doing some “comparison shopping” for styling.

The first clipping is for another pattern – a Spadea, available through mail order from the newspaper.  Fortunately, the date of 1964 shows up on one corner.

The second clipping is from Vogue magazine, showing a fashion from 1968.

The jacket of this suit, just like the Spadea pattern, is very similar to the Vogue pattern.

Perhaps the original owner was trying to decide between a striped fabric and a plain one?  Maybe she was really undecided about making this style suit?  I’d love for her to sit down with me over a cup of coffee so we could discuss this pattern!  As it turns out, she never made the jacket, as its pieces were still in factory folds when I obtained it.  The skirt pattern shows signs of having been used, however.  I’ll never know why,  after all her thought about this suit, she never made it.  However, her decision afforded me the third bonus – the original pattern label – pristine after so many years.

I am looking forward to sewing this label into my green silk suit.

I’ve made my initial adjustments to the pattern and am now making the muslin.  Like my “pattern predecessor” I am dreaming of a certain look.  Now it’s up to me to finish what she started.

“The Sweetest of All the Colors…”

“… Every woman should have something pink in her wardrobe.”   Christian Dior certainly had distinct thoughts about fashion, and with this statement I concur.  Everyone looks good in pink, especially pale pink (men definitely included), and I suspect pale pink was what Monsieur Dior was thinking when he wrote this in his Little Dictionary of Fashion (First published by Cassell & Co., Ltd., 1954; 2007 edition by Abrams; Copyright Catherine Dior and Jean-Pierre Teto, 2007).   Interestingly, the lining pages of his little book are pale pink, but the divider pages feature a deep, deep raspberry pink as in – – - my newly finished “ladylike” dress!

Here is the “section”page for E from Dior’s Fashion Dictionary

Dated 1958, this is the pattern I used for my pink dress.

The finished dress!

As I mentioned in my last post, I made this dress using couture construction, which means a lot of hand-sewing.  The more I use this type of construction, the more I like it, but it doesn’t get any faster.

An interior view of some “couture” construction – silk organza underlining, catch-stitched seams, hand-picked zipper.

However, couture construction gives me a lot of flexibility in changing necklines, which I really appreciate.  That is one of the changes I made to this pattern – widening the neckline to a more flattering appearance for me.

The widened neckline.

I also changed the back of the skirt by removing the box pleats and substituting a darted back.

I substituted darted back panels for the “original” box pleats

The original dress had pockets hidden in side box pleats, but when I narrowed the width of the skirt, I did away with those side pleats.  I still wanted pockets, so I added pocket extensions in order to still hide them in the side seams.  It worked!

A peek at the pocket inside which also shows the raspberry silk lining I used for the dress. I understitiched the pocket edges by hand, which took no time at all and looks so much nicer than machine stitching!

I added a quarter-inch to the underneath seam on each sleeve, so that each sleeve would have one-half inch extra width to it.  Those ladies in the 1950s must have had skinny arms, as I find sleeve widths on these vintage patterns are often just not quite spacious enough.

I added to the underarm seam – an adjustment which I determined from my muslin.

This was the first time I had made sleeves which are half set-in and half kimono.  This is a look and fit which I love!  In fact, the shoulder fits so well, that my original thought to add an interior sleeve heading was one I decided I did not need.

The one thing I’m not sure I like is the “purchased or novelty belt” as indicated on the pattern.  I think a self-belt, a little wider than the one I show, would be more attractive.  Please comment if you have an opinion.  (I have plenty of fabric left over to make one…)

I am thinking a 2″ wide self belt might be more attractive???

Before I move on to my next project (to be announced soon), I want to thank Dresses and me for nominating me for the Very Inspiring Blogger award.

So, in accordance with the “rules” -  I am supposed to share a few facts about myself and nominate some others for the same award, so here goes:

1 – I am told I have a slight Southern accent, surely a remnant of being born and raised in North Carolina.

2 – I do most of my machine sewing on a 1940s’ Singer Featherweight and on my mother’s 1956 “306K” portable Singer.

3 – Autumn is my favorite season.

4 – I can make a very good Pumpkin pie.

5 – I enjoy reading historical fiction.

6 – I can’t sing (as in carry a tune) except for a few simple lullabies and Christmas carols.

Now – to pass on this award:  So many fellow bloggers inspire me every day that it is difficult to single out just a few (especially as many have already received this award!), but here are some worthy recipients:

For always giving me a laugh:  A Dress A Day and The Blue Gardenia.

For always teaching me something I would not have known otherwise:  The Vintage Traveler, Pattern Vault, Two Nerdy History Girls, and the FIDM Museum blog.

For sharing their sewing knowledge, design sense, and beautiful workmanship:  Custom Style, Lilacs and Lace, So Sew Lovely, and Frabjous Couture.

So now – you are IN THE KNOW and  - I am IN THE PINK!

Saying YES to a Ladylike Dress

What is it exactly that makes a particular dress elicit the description “ladylike”?  Is it primarily the fabric – or the color – or the style – or, as most would suggest, a combination of all these things?  And why, exactly, am I asking this question??

As one who generally is attracted to tailored, usually unfussy “frocks”, I had to answer this question for myself about this pattern, which, although still unfussy, with simple lines, just seems to be such a ladylike look:

Dated 1958, this pattern shows the influence of Christian Dior.

This is what I’ve decided.  I definitely think you start with the style – or the pattern – and this one has it.  There are four elements which work together to make this a ladylike look: 1) a defined waist, here further delineated with a purchased belt (or, as the pattern calls it, a “novelty” belt); 2) a soft shoulder line, which in this pattern consists of a set-in sleeve on the front bodice, but kimono in the back – very clever; 3) a full skirt, this one with inverted box pleats which soften the fullness to a considerable degree (although not quite enough for me, as I will explain later); 4) three-quarter length sleeves, which are the most flattering for most women, and which provide the perfect foil for bracelets or gloves.

The middle sketch on the back of the envelope shows the kimono sleeve detail on the back of the dress.

I’ve had this pattern for well over a year, but it took me a while to pair it with this fabric which I’ve had forever (well, not that long, but probably close to 10 years – which makes it seem like a baby compared to how long I’ve had some of my Moygashel linen!).

I’m not sure the fine twill weave of this fabric is visible here.

This fabric is a very beautiful wool/cotton blend, lightweight, but with a solid hand and very subtle fine twill weave to it.  It’s 60” wide and I bought three yards, so I obviously had plenty of fabric with which to work.  I’m in love with the color, a deep raspberry pink – I just cannot stay away from pinks of any shade.

Knowing that I would be making this dress in knee-length rather than mid-calf made me reconsider the fullness of the skirt.  In thinking about this, I remembered another pattern in my collection, which shows a full skirt in the front and a fitted, plain skirt in the back.

This is an unprinted pattern, which makes working with its pieces difficult.

So – I decided to see if I could combine the two patterns to create the same look, but with less fullness.  The second pattern has a three piece back, which obviously would not work with a center back zipper.

Here is the detail of the skirt back.

So I decided to combine the side back and center back pattern pieces, add two darts to achieve a similar fit, and add a center back seam to match the seaming in the first pattern.

This is how I fit the two back skirt pieces together to make one piece. The “triangle” became two narrow darts, which seemed to work better than one wide one.

I took a little more fullness out of the front pattern pieces of the first dress and reconfigured the box pleats.  Then, of course, I made a muslin to see if this would all work.  It certainly seems like it will.  The width of the skirt, according to the pattern envelope, was originally supposed to be about 100”.  The width of my muslin skirt is 56” – which means I removed over a yard in the skirt width!  Sometimes things look and hang a bit differently in the fashion fabric as compared to the muslin, so I am proceeding with cautious optimism.

I am making the dress with couture techniques – and I’m ready to do some serious sewing now that I have silk organza hand-basted to all the pattern pieces.

My pile of basted pieces.

In sewing, I am always reminded of this quote from Wilhela Cushman:  “Just around the corner in every woman’s mind – is a lovely dress, a wonderful suit, or an entire costume which will make an enchanting new creature of her.”  I do indeed hope this will turn out to be a lovely dress – with enchanting ladylike qualities!