Hello Dolly

So the last thing I need is another project.

Which is not to say I'll turn one down if it appears, especially if it's time and labor intensive, with the added bonus of being fragile and hard to handle.

About 25 years ago, I purchased my first antique doll.  There used to be a shop on Philly's antique row that specialized in dolls. I fogged their front window for ages before I got up the nerve to go in.

My first doll is part of the group photo below, the one in pink.  When I bought her, she had no clothes. I happily took on the challenge of Edwardian era children's clothing, scrounging vintage fabrics and trims at flea markets.

One doll led to another. When I bought my house, I sold a few of the girls, the more valuable ones, but I kept my favorites.

I haven't had an urge to add to the family for ages.

Then last week, Mario and I took a weekday off for a trip to the flea market and lunch. Technically it was my (day after) birthday observation, but I'm always up for food and a market.

I was doing good, not spending, until I saw her.  No shoes, no original clothing, wig in desperate need of a wash, but the bones were there.  Beautiful face, body in excellent condition with no need of restringing, and a maker (Gans & Seyfarth) I didn't have.

The price was okay but not fabulous. Considering what she needed, I tried bargaining.  Which worked, because the seller wanted to get rid of her and his wife wasn't there to veto the price drop.

So now I have a project. She needs a new hairstyle, underwear, shoes, clothing and a hat.

So, not much. I can do that in my spare time, right?

Favorite Things

My godmother's secretary desk, filled with random
 relative treasures that I can't part with, topped
by two taxidermied ravens. Because why not?

I'm trying to put more time into developing my vintage Etsy shop this year.  It's been around longer than the handmade shop, and has consistent sales, but up until recently it's had no Facebook presence.  As tired as I can get of social media, it does help with sales.

In some respects, vintage is easier, sales-wise.  People know those things exist, they just have to search for them.  With handmade, you have to anticipate not only what people will want, but how they're going to search for it.

On the other hand, it's a lot easier for me to do Instagram or Facebook about the handmade shop, because I'm more invested in the products -- I make them, after all, and I like to talk about them.

So a new feature on the vintage shop's Facebook page will be a Favorite Things post, photographs of vintage items in their natural habitat (i.e., my house).  That way it's not all product placement -- which Facebook's algorithm doesn't push at people, even if they follow the page -- and it's more personal.  Plus, I do love my vintage pieces, and I like to talk about them.  So maybe this is a way into it for me, as well as others.

Plus, you all get a disjointed tour of my messy house this way.  (I don't know about you, but I love snooping into people's lives, so . . . )

Day Off

I love vintage jewelry, but the sheer
volume here was so stunning I couldn't choose

We had ourselves a day off today.  I've been feeling a little overwhelmed with the temp job - it's only till the end of September, at the latest, but last Friday and this Monday have been very vivid reminders of why I don't do this full time anymore.

It's nice to know I can still handle it, but why would I ever want to?

Flea markets should be gotten to early, but that didn't happen.  We slept in a little, then took ourselves across the street to the coffee shop on the excuse that it was faster than making and eating breakfast at home.  We drove up to New Hope, PA, which is about an hour away, very quaint and charming and artsy, and across the Delaware river into Lambertville, NJ, which is just as quaint and charming and artsy, but has a huge flea market right on the other side.

Colored glass in a sunny window . . . delicious

That was the destination, and it was worth the drive (as always).

We got there around 10:30 a.m. and wandered for a few hours.  I found some lovely vintage goodies that I can polish up and put in my vintage Etsy shop (most of it really does come from the endless supply of family stuff, but every once in a while there's a flea market find -- or 10 -- that I see and can't resist the opportunity to pass on).

After that, we went back into Lambertville and parked, had lunch at our favorite restaurant, which has outdoor seating near the canal and (no longer used) railroad tracks.  Normally Mario is bug bait and we have to sit indoors, but there's an herb garden right there, so all available insect life was paying attention to that and he was able to eat and drink in relative peace.  (I was still there, after all).

All the Pyrex was sorted by color

Even with lunching, then taking a walk along the canal and hitting up a few galleries on Bridge Street after, we managed to get back to Philly before it was truly rush hour.

I'm in that lovely state now where I'm tired, from walking and lots of sun and seeing loads and loads of lovely things, and I'm feeling like I should go into my workroom and start on a project, but I probably won't.

Back to reality tomorrow.  I can face it now.

View from the lunch table

Something Old, Something New

Most of you probably know that in addition to my handmade shop on Etsy, I also have a vintage shop.

Being the last in a line of long-lived, packratty women has an upside and a downside.  The upside is I got a lot of good stuff; the downside is I got too much of it.  I can't believe I said that, but some time in the last few years, the amount of stuff that's arrived in my house has started to weigh me down, and I realized I wasn't actually getting much pleasure out of owning it.  There was so much, I couldn't actually differentiate between what I loved (and would use, if I could find it) and what was just there because it was theirs, and too good to throw away.

And that's why they had so much of it - it was too good to throw away, and far, far too good to ever actually use.

The vintage shop came about because of this.  It adds an inconsistent cash flow to my already inconsistent budget, but it's not so much about that as finding new homes for all these objects - clothes, jewelry, far too many hats, gloves, shoes, knickknacks (good god, the knickknacks these women had!) and so much more.

I also bought my house with an attic that had never been cleaned out by the prior owner, a situation I'm only slowly remedying.  When I made an offer on the house, she offered then to have it emptied for me, but I'm no fool.  I knew that stuff would either go into a dumpster or into someone else's home, so I said I'd deal with it.  It's one more thing I'm doing with myself while I'm not "officially" working.

The other thing I love about vintage is the same thing I love about good handmade - you can see the care and the skill that went into the making of these old pieces.  I've made patterns from vintage garments before I've sold them along (they weren't my size, but the patterns can be graded to fit me at some point when I get around to it), and the construction is beyond anything I've learned.  The same with the jewelry - good vintage rhinestones are far nicer than anything that's made today.

I leave you with pictures of a few of my favorites here just as illustration.  Some of these have been sold, and some are still in the shop, but all are beautiful, well made and worth passing on to someone who will care for them.

Christmas in July

Offering this up here as well - I'm participating in Etsy's Christmas in July promotion for my vintage shop.  If there's anything there that sets your heart to beating a little bit faster, I'm having a sale - 15% off any item over $20!

These could be yours, plus a whole lot more! Come on over!

The Secret Lives of Dresses: a very late review

Let me preface this by saying that Erin McKean's Dress A Day was the first sewing blog I ever read. I especially enjoyed her Secret Lives series, where she would post a photo of a vintage dress, anything from an ordinary day dress to spectacular evening wear, and write a short story from the point of the dress.

She mentioned on the blog when she finished her book, the Secret Lives of Dresses, but somehow I didn't get a copy at the time. I meant to, and each time I stopped by her blog it reminded me, and then I’d get distracted again. And I really wanted to read it – I was curious how she was going to turn those wonderful, but obviously disconnected stories, into a novel.

The other day, I stumbled across a copy. Better late to the party than not at all, right?

The book is absolutely charming. Normally I wouldn't use that word; it’s like saying that something is “sweet” and you know they mean “cloying” or “sickly.” No, this was really charming. It’s the story of Dora Winston, a directionless girl about to graduate from college with no plan for her life. When she gets a call that the grandmother who raised her has had a stroke, she drops everything and returns to her hometown to be with her.

Grandma Mimi also ran a vintage clothing store, and since Dora can’t spend all her time at the hospital, she honors her grandmother in the best way she can – by keeping the business going. Dora grew up in the store, and loved to play dress-up, but her teenage rebellion led her into t-shirts and cargo pants, ignoring the lovely closet of vintage dresses her grandmother collected for her.

Since she came home with just the clothes on her back, she’s forced to dress from the closet and belatedly discovers the power of clothes, learning that a dress can lift her up, make people see her differently – and make her see herself differently.

There’s a bit of romance in the novel – both a purposeless “romance” at the college and a more meaningful friendship with a contractor working on her grandmother’s building – and some wonderful female characters. The book was filled with strong women – Mimi, who appears via many well-done flashbacks; Gabby, Mimi’s semi-related, hopeless romantic housemate; and Maux, an employee at the shop who functions as a near-sister. There are also some hideous relatives, who are stock characters in their purpose to the plot but so cringe-worthy that they deserve more credit, and two well-developed, very different men.

The secret lives appear early on: Dora has sold a dress in the shop and the buyer asks for its “secret life.” Dora never knew that her grandmother was writing little stories that were included with each dress, and it gives her one more question to ask her grandmother. Dora also wants to know about her parents, who died when she was a baby, and who her grandmother refused to discuss; in typical Dora fashion, she never pushed the issue and now worries that she will never know.

Mimi dies without regaining consciousness, and when her relatives try to take the shop, Dora has to quickly wake up and decide what she wants from her life.

There is one more secret life toward the end of the book that ties the plot up nicely, and answers some of Dora’s questions.

One of my favorite bits from the book came toward the end, when Dora goes to a graduate school interview: “Dora was wearing a charcoal-gray dress, narrow-skirted, with long sleeves ending in pointed cuffs and a matching sharply pointed collar. Dora was wearing the dress, although it had been a close call – when she first put it on, the dress had been wearing her. It had taken several minutes of walking around her apartment this morning before the dress could be forced into submission.”  We've all been there at one time or another.

 A few Amazon reviewers called this book “fluff,” and worse, but I don’t agree. It’s not a heavy lift as far as books go, but it wasn't intended as one. What it is is well plotted, tightly written and with enough loose ends at the conclusion to remind you that life, unlike fiction, isn't always neat and tidy. But in the right dress, you can cope with all that.

Sewing Vintage Modern - Book Review and Giveaway

So, a copy of Sewing Vintage Modern made its way onto my bookshelf recently.  Have you seen it yet?

The back of the book reads:  "Vintage Looks Meet Modern Fashion," which is pretty accurate.  The book gives a nice overview of fashion history from the to the 1980s (God, the 80s are vintage already; I'm old!), with notes on influential designers and fashion trends, and great drawings of clothes and accessories.

The book includes 5 master patterns (printed on double-sided, trace-your-own-and-add-seam-allowance Burda sheets.  There's a lot on each sheet, but it's not like the newer magazines; you can actually see what you want to trace.

The master patterns are then turned into 19 different looks, as follows:

Pattern #1, a dress, is used for both the 1920s drop-waisted dress and the 1960s Jackie-inspired sheath.

Pattern #2, a man's shirt, is a 1940s button-down shirt with chest pockets, a 1960s tuxedo shirt with ruffles and hidden buttons, and a 1960s jacket.

Pattern #3, another dress, is used for a multitude of looks: a 1950s full-skirted dress, a 1980s bustier dres, a bodice for another dress, and 5 different tops.

Pattern #4, a shift dress, is also the bones for a 1970s bell-sleeved top and a pussy-bow blouse.

The last pattern, #5, is for pants - everything from stirrups to pajama bottoms to bell-bottoms.

The most valuable part of the book, to me, is that it's more or less a mini course on adapting a master pattern to suit your needs.  Each look from a master pattern is broken down completely - how to re-draw each pattern piece, with instructions on measurements and truing up the pieces, is fully explained and illustrated.

If you don't know how to turn a one-piece, darted bodice into a princess-seamed bodice, you will.

The patterns run from sizes 0 - 14, or European sizes 32 - 46.   I wish the size range had been a little more generous, or that there had been instructions on how to adapt patterns to your size, not just to the specific look.  (The largest size measures 41 x 34 x 43, and face it, there's a lot of 34" waists out there on women who don't fall into a full plus-size category; I'm built more or less on the lines of a fire hydrant myself, so I know of what I speak).

The book also says that vintage looks are "modernized and reinterpreted for today’s sewing enthusiasts."  Therein lies the other rub for me.

I like vintage.  I like real vintage.  The things I like about real vintage are the details, the complicated sewing, the weird pattern pieces (gussets, anybody?) - the things that you don't find in most modern patterns.  These patterns allude to the original, but they are definitely directed to a younger sewist who isn't into true vintage.  Or at least not yet.

And there's nothing wrong with that.  This is a very good book with a target audience who unfortunately  is not me.  The things that hvae been left out of these "reinterpreted" patterns are the things I like best about vintage.

This would be a great book for someone not too new to sewing, but who hasn't experimented much with reworking patterns.  The book has a conversational tone and the directions on how to adapt patterns aren't intimidating at all - everything is explained well, and in a manner that's much more user-friendly than textbook.  

All that being said, I still give this book a pretty high rating, but I think it'll do better out there in the world with one of you than remaining on my shelves.

Please leave a comment telling me why you deserve this book, and you'll be entered to win my copy.  I'll do a random drawing next Sunday, January 6th, and announce the winner here on the blog.  U.S. only, please.

I hope everyone is enjoying their holiday season and getting some sewing done; I'm certainly trying to, though I keep getting distracted.

Happy new year, everyone!

That 70s Jacket

I'm still sorting through all the rubble we brought home from my aunt's apartment.  There were knicknacks galore, a good bit of costume jewelry and very little clothing.  Most of what was left was really worn, not even worthy of the thrift store.  A few of her cotton blouses I threw into my scrap bag to be taken apart for other projects.  Only one or two things are worth mentioning, and I'm showing one of them here, not because I've listed in my Etsy shop (which I have) but because I feel the need to share the 1970s technicolor glory of this piece.

My aunt knitted, crocheted and sewed, and she made this jacket herself.  I seem to recall that there were coordinating pants, though I've blocked out whether they were pink or orange.  Probably pink, because she was a redhead and occasionally stood up to her (redheaded) mother who said redheads couldn't wear pink.  Of course, she was in her 40s when she made this, which shows that you're never done trying to prove your mother wrong.  

She didn't wear it too often; whether that meant she really only made it to spite her mom, or because because my mom (who was her cousin), tormented her like they were 10 years old, I don't know.  There's certainly no photographic evidence of her wearing it, which is a shame.  I do remember seeing her in it a few times; I also remember my mom making her cry by singing "I'd rather be dead than a redhead."  Only your nearest and dearest can drive you that crazy, right?

It's made from that wonderful/awful 1970s spongy doubleknit.  The zigzag texture carries through to the inside; of course, that fabric was more plastic than fabric, so I'm not surprised. 

From our point of view, it's a nice bit of sewing.  The inside is finished with a red knit binding at the back neck and red lace hem tape.  All seams are zigzagged, which is the best her machine could do at that time.  The pattern matching on the center front and pockets is perfect.  The lapels are interfaced with muslin, and the collar, although freakishly 70s wide, is well done.  The gold metal buttons are better than most of what I see now.

I wish I had more examples of her work.  I know she made massive wardrobes for my Crissy dolls when I was a kid, but those got given away with the dolls, and I only have scraps of the fabric left (because she always gave me the leftover fabric in case I wanted to do things with it).  

Everyone gave her grief for this jacket, yet it was one of the few self-made things she kept in her closet.  For more than 40 years.  

It makes me wonder what it meant to her.

Ceil Chapman: Something to Drool About

Someone gave me this dress a few months back, knowing I've been selling a lot of vintage on Etsy.  She said she bought it years ago and felt that she paid too much at the time, because there's some damage to the dress, but she thought it was worth if it she could take it apart and make a pattern from it.

When I saw the Ceil Chapman label inside, I was so glad that she realized her skills weren't up to the task.  It  remained in a bag in her closet for probably 15 years before she gave it to me.

I lent it to another friend recently for a photo shoot.  I needed photos of the dress on someone, anyway, if I intend to sell it, and she's certainly more photogenic (and more suited to this dress) than I am.  She's in a play and the 1940s-era costumes aren't complete yet, so she needed a glam dress for the promo photos.

Glam is something this dress definitely is.

And can I tell you, I would have absolutely no idea how to take this apart and make a pattern from it either.  The very idea makes me weak in the knees.

The damage, I think, is moth - the dress is a light wool crepe, and I'm sure over all the years of its existence it has tempted more than one moth to take a bite.  All things considered, the damage isn't bad, except for the location - right smack on the front.

It figures, doesn't it?

But look at that drapery.  Look at that neckline, front and back.  If this dress doesn't make you feel like you're queen of the world, you just don't have it in you.

It weighs a ton.  I don't want to think how many yards of fabric are involved in that kind of draping, much less the skill involved in draping that many yards of fabric over a body and somehow making it look both more slender and curvier than normal.

I've tried this dress on and even though I'm about 4 inches shorter and 25 pounds heavier than my friend here, I felt like the freaking queen of the world in it too.

The pin on the front came with the dress when it was purchased, and from the look of the inside (professional-looking stitching) it may have come with the dress when originally purchased.  It makes a lovely feature over the left hip where the drapery just flows down.

I know that even in it's time, this was an expensive, dress-up piece.  But why don't people (other than celebrities) have occasions to wear things like this anymore?  Why is our version of dress-up, at most, an LBD that we can dress up or down?  Would the owner of this dress have even considered "dressing down?"

Rant over.  Look at the pretty.  Once I get it back so I can do a few more detail photos, including the label, it's going up on Etsy.  I just wanted to share it with you all because there aren't many people out there who (a) know who Ceil Chapman is; (b) can appreciate this kind of fabulousness; or (c) would try to wrap your heads around how to make something like this.

Life is calming down, sort of.  Took some time this weekend to have coffee with friends, went to see Lincoln last night (fabulous), and today I'm doing some craft show sewing and (obviously) some non-productive playing on the computer.

Not sewing, but still fashion

Jeez, the silence is deafening around here.

I can even hear the chicken clucking in the back yard because the sewing machine certainly isn't drowning her out.  I don't know if it's the heat, work, or just general lack of motivation, but there's been seriously no sewing going on lately.

Mario was away all last week and when he left I know he expected to come home to a woman who'd had almost no sleep, too much wine and a whole new wardrobe.  Alas, it was not to be.  I got some sleep, did have too much wine, and sewed . . . about half a knit top.  It's still not done.

I'm on a roll right now with clearing out the house.  I've been here for 11 years but it seems that the accumulation of the ages has sprung up when I'm not looking.  Good thing there's a thrift store down the street where I can take it all.  Oh, wait, that's where a lot of it came from.

Either way, there were half a dozen boxes in the hall by the time he got home, and I haven't stopped yet.  I've also dug out more of the boxes of family stuff, photographed it and am putting it up on Etsy.  Because I can't wear it all, and it needs to be out in the world (and not in my house).

So since I'm not sewing, and have nothing to show you there, I'll share some of the hats I'm listing.  This isn't an advertisement, or a plea to go empty my Etsy shop - though feel free, if something grabs you - I just think these are beautiful, and wish women still wore hats on a daily basis.

If that were the case, I'd be getting rid of something else and keeping these.

Decisions, decisions



VPLL 0189 - Ladies' Mantle

 Now that I'm done (or almost done - I was asked if I could do a second piece) with theater sewing, I volunteered for another pattern from the VPLL's 1912 Project.

Isn't this a beauty?  And doesn't this, made in the right fabrics with the right trim, have an absolute place in a modern wardrobe?  I haven't seen the back yet, I need to print the sheets out tomorrow at work to see if there's anything unusual there, but I'm not expecting any surprises.

I have several fabrics in the stash that are really calling loudly to me that they want to be this jacket (VPLL calls it a mantle, which is 1912-speak for jacket, I guess).  The problem is that the fabrics that are calling most loudly will also fight hardest with the several trims I'm considering.

Decisions, decisions. 

In the meantime, I've also cut into my poppy fabric and am making something totally unplanned from it.  Stay tuned.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

In a previous post, I mentioned the Japanese glitter houses from my grandmom's Christmas village, and also that I was thinking about listing them on Etsy.

Apparently my readers are a lot more sentimental than I am, because most comments told me to keep them, even though we don't decorate, don't have a a tree, and have the tchotchkes of a much larger family.

Here's what I've decided to do: I'm keeping the house on the top left, the large white "hotel" or "mansion" type house that was the center of many small person daydreams. 

(There was also a large candy-pink house, with a turret, but apparently that one vanished somewhere during the trip over the river and through the woods from grandma's house to aunt's house to mom's house to mine; in that case, it's a wonder more of them didn't disappear).

The remaining 6 houses (I swear there were at least a dozen, plus a larger scale plastic church with stained glass windows that played "Silent Night" when you opened the doors, but again, it was a long road from grandma's house) are getting listed in 2 lots, as pictured. 

I love them, but I won't miss them.  I hope they make someone's Christmas a little brighter; they brightened mine for a lot of years, and the last house is now on the bookcase overlooking my desk, where I can see it and (hopefully) the cats won't find its crusty, glittery surface at all appetizing or appealing. Hopefully.

New (Old) Patterns

I mentioned in my previous post that we went flea marketing last weekend and I found a few vintage patterns. 

These were found in a little store in Lambertville, NJ, which had a heavy inventory of vintage clothes, jewelry, knicknacks, toys, magazines, and the kind of stuff that can keep you occupied for hours.  The patterns (there were probably about 25) were stuffed, standing up, in an old jewelry box.  Mario pointed them out to me and disappeared off into some back room to look at comic books.

I settled down in a corner and spread them out.  Most were gorgeous - there were a few of those cute romper-with-skirt combos, bathing suits, loads of dresses, a few pairs of pants.  I'm a sucker for a vintage dress, though, and that's where I focused my attention. 

They had two Hollywood Patterns, the Evelyn Keyes 1041 pictured here, and a Betty Grable which I couldn't afford (the random pricing didn't make much sense except for that one).  Despite wanting the Grable because of the photo and the great pattern drawing, I ended up with Evelyn, Scarlett O'Hara's little sister, because it was overall a better pattern. 

Here's the description:  Fitted jacket-blouse with or without square collar. Shoulder yokes in one with center front and back sections.  Bracelet length or shortsleeves.  Slim six-gored skirt.

A little girlish in the drawings, perhaps, but I think it has a lot of possibilities - look at those interesting curved shoulder seams.  They're hidden under the collar on the center figure, buried in floral print on the left, and ruined with ruffles on the right, but the style line in and of itself is interesting.  Best of all, it's a 38" bust, 41" hip.  No grading up, hallelujah!  (Though can you believe that I'm a size 20 in this vintage pattern?) 

The second pattern is McCall 8040, another dress.  There's nothing tremendously special about this one (other than the 40" bust measurement; I might have to grade down) but I liked the plaid version with the collar on the bias.  And I just plain like the shape of the collar which, by the way, is cut on, not a separate piece.  And they give pattern pieces for the shoulder pads. 

I love old patterns. 

The third and final pattern, Simplicity 2780, is my favorite, because I know I'll get a ton of wear out of it.  I may be a sucker for vintage dress patterns, but jacket patterns of any era always pique my interest. 

The pattern description: Misses bolero. The bolero is fitted with darts and the lining is optional.  Style 1 features a shawl collar cut in one with the front.  The lower edge is curved, and the long sleeves are trimmed with cuffs.  A Peter Pan collar edges the high neckline in Style 2, and the lining is in contrast.  The sleeves in Style 3 are three-quarter length.

I think that's a lot of jacket for one pattern.  And for a seemingly simple pattern, ther are - count 'em - 10 darts.  Back darts, bust darts, back shoulder darts (I LOVE those) and 2 darts in each sleeve.  I can't wait to make this one.

Simplicity called this a bolero, but I always think of boleros as really cropped.  According to the measurements on the back of the envelope, the length from back of neck to bottom of jacket for my size is 16 1/4".  Longer than what I think of as a bolero, but also way more useful than those cropped jackets that are absolutely adorable but don't work with the clothes I want to wear under them.

Where was this jacket in January?  It would have saved me three muslins for the wedding jacket. 
These patterns were all in the lower price level ($7 each), which I thought was a little high, but I convinced the seller to let me open the envelopes to confirm that the instructions and all pieces were there, and they were.  The envelopes have had a little wear and tear, but the pattern tissue is still intact and the instructions, if a little brown and crispy around the edges, are there as well. Can't wait to dive in and read them; I always learn someting new from vintage instructions. 

Not bad for a day otherwise spent enjoyably wandering 2 flea markets, looking over everyone's old goodies, getting a nice sunburn,and then having lunch outdoors under a tree that made the sunburn worthwhile. 

Home Repairs = New Items on Etsy

How do you have a conversation with your house that starts, "After all I've done for you, this is what you do?  Really?" 

You can't.  You just look your contractor in the eye, swallow hard and write that check.  And then cry.

And then have a glass of wine, get yourself together and finally dump out that huge box(es) of vintage jewelry that you've been intending to sort through, photograph and list on Etsy so that (maybe) you can eventually PAY back the money you've just handed to said freaking contractor to keep your freaking porch roof from freaking caving in.

I'm better now.

No, I'm not.  I'm pissed at my house, but I found a lot of pretty things that I didn't remember scoring from the aunties, and some of them I'm intending to keep.  I can't turn all the vintage goodness out to find new homes. 

If you're interested, the link to my Etsy shop is here.  If you're not, no biggie. Enjoy the pretties and come back later for more sewing (and possibly a little more grousing about my house; I'm far from over it). 

Vintage Goodness

B2996

Sometimes when you're just walking down the street, good things come your way out of nowhere.

This is not my story.  This stroke of sewing good luck belongs to my friend Mimi (non-blogging sewist, so you'll have to take my word for her existence; she was at PR Philly so some of you might remember her).  Mimi was walking around Philadelphia recently and spotted a pile of trash at the curb.  (Anybody wonder why we're friends?  I'd have raced her to the pile).  In the trash was a huge bunch of vintage patterns.

A9889

Be still my heart!  Vintage patterns in the trash?  Not even in the recycling bin!  But they weren't in the trash for long, and Tuesay, they came to my office to visit.

Mimi's eventual intention for these patterns is to list them for sale on Etsy, but in the meantime, she brought a bag in for me to look through, kindly saying I could borrow any of them if I wanted to copy them.  Did I?  Yes, ma'am!

M9583

I held myself to 9, and trust me, I could have loaded myself up with twice as many, but I know me.  It's going to be hard enough to trace off the details of these 9 patterns.  Conveniently, almost all of them are sized for a 36" bust, so there won't even be much maneuvering.  Most of the patterns were late 50s and early 60s, which is a good era for me.  It's not necessarily my favorite - I love 30s and 40s - but a lot of the shifty, A-line 60s dresses look good on me, and it's hard to argue with a compliment.

A9546

On to the pretties:  there were 3 Advance patterns, which I've never tried before.  There were also 2 Butterick, 2 McCall's and 2 Simplicity.  I like all of them for various reasons, but I think my favorite is B2996.  I love the princess seamed front with the in-seam pockets and the back belt.  I'll lower the neckline just a smidge - that looks a little choky - but otherwise, I think it's nearly perfect.  And I have a black-and-white houndstooth silk suiting (ancient) that might look really pretty.  

Let's look at McCall's 9853.  Who has a waist like that?  Who wants one?  Even though the pattern drawing is unrealistic (and delicious) I think there's a lot to be said for the design.  I love the multiple darts and the under-bust gathers in the bodice.  It's worth a try, anyway.

S3887

Two of the patterns I chose just for their collars.   I love a good collar, and Simplicity 2971 and Advance 9546 certainly have good collars.  The collar on A9546 is even removable. 

Jackets are also good things.  Advance 9989 looks like it'll be a dream to fit - princess seamed with a bust dart and a fitting dart.  I love the bracelet length sleeves with gloves in the pattern drawing.  And I chose Simplicity 3887 specifically for its jacket.  It looks like a great little basic piece for covering up a dress, and I can always use oneof those.  Kimono sleeves just make it a better multi-purpose pattern.

Nearly last, and definitely smallest (the only non-36" patterns in the bunch) are the 2 shift dresses, McCall's 7419 and Butterick 3419.  Not like I don't have shift dress patterns, but the McCall's one has an  interesting French dart and Butterick's is a dress/jumper combination that I actually think just grabbed me because of the ridiculous clown ruffles (which I wouldn't make).



M7419

One final pattern: Advance 9927.  Now that's a suit.  I love the contrast satin running from the collar down the jacket and the skirt.  Yummy.  Though the black is divine, I'm seeing this in a color.  Raspberry?  Unwearable by me, but it would be pretty.

I'd like to say I'm going to jump in and sew one of these patterns soon, but don't forget, I still have to press them and trace them off.  So you won't be seeing one of these emerge from the machine right away, but they will come.

I'm not sure what it is with me and vintage.  It's not love/hate, certainly.  I love the styles, I love the details, I love that the instructions are usually still worth reading for technical bits that pattern companies now don't seem to think we need - one of these patterns, the Advance with detachable collar, even notes on the envelope that it uses the "Bishop Sewing Method" from one of my favorite vintage sewing books.  

B3419

I think my love of vintage yet lack of sewing vintage has something to do with laziness.  While there are quick and easy vintage patterns, those aren't the ones that set my pulse to racing.  Quick and easy comes right out of the pattern folders behind my sewing chair.  A good vintage pattern is a project that is worked on over days, paused, pondered, and returned to until all those details are perfect.  Vintage sewing the way I want to do it requires more focus than I have right now. 

At least I've diagnosed the problem.  Now to find a cure.  Everyone is only too happy to share a good fabric sale.  Anybody know where I can get a large dose of concentration, cheap?



A9927

When Mimi lists these babies on Etsy, along with their friends (including a few wedding gowns and some full-skirted 50s goodness), I'll be sure to provide a link.