Jenny asked, through my blog, for advice on what to wear for a wedding. Maybe you remember? Many of you gave her great advice. She was struggling with the fit of New Look 6000, a popular pattern which many of us thought would suit her very well.
New Look 6000
After the post went out Jenny sent an update:
“I have finished the body and attached the collar and it actually looks really good so I am glad you encouraged me to carry on with this pattern. I knew when I bought it that the shape would be right for me but felt less than confident that I could get a good fit. The colour of the fabric just won’t photograph accurately, like you can never get black to look dark enough. This really was a lovely cerise colour.
The pattern worked well for me in the end although I felt the sleeve caps were a bit too high and tried to shorten them but there was still a small amount of gather, which was fine.
She recently sent me photos. First she explains:
“Attaching a couple of pictures I took this morning. I don’t know when I will wear this outfit again so I thought I had better make the effort and photograph it for you. I have no makeup or jewellery and my hair is in dire need of some “TLC” but my next job this wet morning is walking the dog so I thought the full makeup etc was a bit over the top! Plus, if I don’t do it now it will never get done.”
Want to see?
Here is a bit more about the day itself.
The wedding took place in Wallasey, on the Wirral, and we then drove to the reception just outside Chester and was absolutely lovely in every way. I finished the cerise dress and was very pleased with it. I sold the fur jacket on EBay (at a really good price as I timed it just before Christmas). It was just a bit too bulky for me and even with a belt it wasn’t right, although I really liked it. Anyway I bought a lovely black, 3/4 coat which was perfect and necessary as it was dry but with a biting wind coming in from the Irish Sea.The coat was just right, shaped in to the waist with a slight flare from there and it sat loosely over the dress, not boxy but not clinging.
Jenny in her coat
I think the dress turned out well. Just a great look and colour for Jenny, and she has fitted and made it beautifully. What do you think?
I studied 20th century fashion history at college, but we only covered 1900 to 1980. I still can’t really put my finger on what 1990s or any other subsequent decade amounts to in dress terms. A area I will need to research at some point.
But it had not occurred to me to go backwards.
For years I had no interest in Victorian fashions – with their outlandish shapes. Until. Until our draping class was given the project of draping over under structures. I chose a 1950s example, and was pleased with it, but I began to take an interest, instructed by tutor Daniel Kinne. At a similar time avid blogger and Birmingham Mathstress Demented Fairy was showing her workings as she proceeded to create a “Steam Punk” wardrobe. I didn’t know what Steam Punk was but it involves dressing up in Victoriana type costumes, often with particular accessories. I decided I needed a little education about the crinoline, so booked a trip to Brussels to see an important exhibition.
It was most interesting, and I hope to give you an outline history, with a few photographs from the Museum of Costume and Lace. Although the exhibition is now over I will cover it in greater depth on another occasion.
Pre-1850s
This is the period when women’s dresses had sloping shoulders and full skirts. Originally these dresses were supported by the traditional set of petticoats until the Crinoline was invented.
Crinoline (stiff fabric made from horse-hair and linen) was used from about 1840 onwards to create a stiff petticoat which would support a wide skirt. The name began to be associated with the under structures of the age and sprung steel was later used as it was light, flexible and robust.
In my ignorance I had seen the crinoline as hampering, ridiculous and quite impossible for a working woman. But actually the structured crinoline was a big step forward in that it meant women no longer had to wear several layers of petticoat to create the look they desired. I don’t know if you have ever worn several layers of skirts – but you will know they are heavy, cumbersome and unhygienic. I remember reading (I think it was Herman Hesse’s Damian) where as a boy he describes hiding under the skirts of his mother, and she wore a skirt with seven layers, which were rotated.
The design of the crinoline had to be firm enough to support all those skirts, but also bendable so women could sit down.
Here is my experiment.
This was the real purpose of my visit Museum in Brussels. We zipped across to Belgium by Eurostar and had a fun weekend. Trying on this outfit in the museum was much quicker and more pleasant than making my own crinoline. First, over my jeans and jumper, I put on the crinoline (it had a modern elasticated waist). Then, over the top, a grey polyester skirt with further structure. Once in, I draped my tartan scarf over it for a more interesting look. Then I tried the sitting down technique.
The Museum helpfully provided both chair and cardboard-cutout husband. And a mirror.
My crinoline was stiffened with modern, flexible, plastic boning. Victorian underskirts could support a skirt with the maximum circumference of about six yards, which would have been a problem in the theatre or getting into a carriage, providing endless fun for cartoonists and satirists. My experience was that it was quite fun to be so big – small in the top (suppressed and held upright by a corset in Victorian times), but wide across the hips to hem, gave me a feeling of stature and elegance, against my expectations.
c1850 dress round crinoline dress
1860s
By the 1860s the crinoline had shrunk (the projected crinoline), and now the front of the dress was much flatter with all the action taking place behind. By 1866 it began to loose its appeal and fall out of fashion. This charming summer transformation dress shows how one skirt had two interchangable tops. The short puffed sleeves are edged in ribbon and the boned evening bodice is covered in lace. The long sleeved city bodice is also boned and features blue, covered buttons. The crinoline skirt is flat at the front with the volume at the back created by a series of inverted pleats.
c1865 Transformation dress
1870s
From 1867-1880 we have the era of the bustle. This dress from 1870 is made in yellow silk taffeta with a lilac check. It has a fitted bodice, long pagoda sleeves and lots of fringing. There are two rounded basques at the sides and a longer one at the back in order to adapt to the bustle skirt. There are two bias-cut flounces at the bottom and an apron effect at the front, with a polonaise at the back. The “Faux Cul”bustle pad introduced in about 1875.
1870 Taffeta summer dress
1880s
This warm brown watered silk and ottoman outfit is trimmed with machine made lace. The skirt is very narrow and highly decorated – typical of the “upholstery” style. The bustle is now a “lobster tail”.
1883 Taffeta faux cul (small bustle)
There is so much to learn – please excuse me if I have got it wrong (like the no-knickers suggestion I made in a previous post). Happy to stand corrected!
After a year of studying Draping on the Stand at Morley college I have signed up for Intermediate pattern cutting.
The class started with an interesting round up of who does and knows what. As usual we had a group of young fashion industry workers, plus a few hobby sewists like me. It is a nice way to learn more about the careers associated with fashion – most of which involve long hours and low pay, unfortunately. But majority of these nice young women enjoy their work, and they are keen to learn more.
The class will be making dress patterns using the tutor’s size 12 standard bodice block, but there is an option to use your own.
I decided to remake my personal blocks. If you do a fair amount of pattern cutting for your own use it makes sense to start with your own measurements rather than the “ideal” or “average” size 10 or 12.
Drafting a dress block to your own personal measurements
My prior experience meant that the actual drafting very straightforward and I achieved it in about an hour and a half, after I got home from work. Here are my tips
Use a good book. I used Winifred Aldridge – the same book I used in college – second hand ones are available for £5 or £6.
Metric Pattern Cutting
Measure your body carefully, ideally getting a friend to help as some of the measurements are hard to do on yourself
Select the standard size that is most close to your size and compare your measurements to the standard ones
I like to use the straight edge of the cardboard for the CB, but purists would advise you draw in the CB to start
This is the line you will initially square off against
Getting this right (ie getting every squared up or down) is crucial to making a good job of your blocks, and all pattern drafting
Use a fine pencil. A 2H is recommended to increase accuracy
You may also need a rubber
Work on lightweight card rather than paper as you will be using the blocks many times
Make sure the card is big enough for the task.You need a good set square. Ideally a metre stick too.
A curved ruler is also really useful. This is the one I used on the neck and armhole
Neck curve ruler
When making a dress block you first make a bodice block and then adapt it.
I found the Aldridge instructions easy to follow and they work well if you use standard measurements. When you make the block up with your own measurements your “figure faults” – yes this is how she describes them – may mean you require further alteration.
Key learning point
When making your own dress blocks the drafting is the easy bit. It is the fitting that gives you a headache.
Also my tutor told me that it is impossible to fit yourself. I will soon see if this is true. I am hoping that selfies of front and back, plus feedback from you, my dear blog readers, may suffice. I will get as far as I can on my own and then I may have to ask for her help.
My specific “figure faults” and how my first attempt at a bodice block turned out
I would be interested in your analysis.
Here is mine: There is something wrong with the neck. Experience tells me that there is actually something wrong with the shoulder and this is creating the issue at the neck. There is a problem with the bust with a “dent” appearing the right of the bust. This might appear to be too much fabric above the bust point, but I believe this is caused by the placement of the bust point being too high. And although the fit at the waist is good I think it too is also a bit high.
Lowering both the bust point and waist is a very simple alteration to make and if my diagnosis is right this will be a major improvement.
The tricky area, as is apparent in both the pictures (as well as me fitting in my lino-printed pyjama pants) is the shoulder. The pitch is wrong. In other words the angle is too acute. My shoulders, while relatively narrow, are also fairly square.
What went wrong here? Well my shoulder measures 10cms compared to the standard measurement (for a s12) of 12.25cms. By creating a shoulder length of just 10cms I found that the pitch was exaggerated. What would you do? I think the obvious thing to correct this is to use the standard shoulder measurement of 12.25 cms, then alter the block by taking off a couple of cms at the armhole, and/or the neckline.
Fitting the toileFItting the toile (back view)
I need literally to go back to the drawing board. I will redraft the bodice and let you have a look. Thank you for those that can offer suggestions.
I usually love going to the V&A – it is one of my favourite places in London. So an exhibition of underwear had lots of appeal. It is impossible to study the history of fashion without also studying the history of underwear. As the exhibition explains:
This exhibition explores the intimate relationship between underwear and fashion and its role in moulding the body to a fashionable ideal, with cut, fit, fabric and decoration revealing issues of gender, sex and morality.
It is a marvellous exhibition in terms of the variety and quality of the garments. There is so much to see – 200 items include corsets, stays, bras, suspender belts, a mono bust enhancer, tights, hosiery, pyjamas, a siren suit, jockstraps, cage crinolines, X rays of corsets, Y fronts, underwear as outwear, sports bras, Gwyneth Paltrow’s dress, a lovely quilted petticoat in red paisley, long johns, garters, as ever a “swarovski crystal” embellished bra (do these people product place everywhere? is there one on the moon?) modern Spanx type products, nursing bras, petticoats, the Wonderbra, red bloomers that were said to warm the body. Plenty then to titillate and surprise.
I went with my husband and another couple – none of whom knew much about the history of fashion – and the exhibits stimulated the conversation. How must it have felt to be laced in to a corset? Oh look, this one fastens at the front! Did the breasts get squashed, uplifted or ignored? Whalebones? Look at how tiny the waists are! Jaeger made vests originally? What is your favourite (a toss up between the pink corset and the black knickers – both below). And so on. It is presented in such a random way we all left with a feeling that design, originality and fabric can be endlessly fascinating, but I didn’t learn what I would really have liked to know. Here is a nice review.
Take the history of ladies’ lower underwear.
Until the end of the 18th century none were worn. In the early 19th century each leg was encased in a separate cotton garment (unjoined) – a pair of drawers (they were “drawn on” as a pair). These gradually morphed into knickers or bloomers in the late 19th century having more form (but still open) and they came down to the knee – usually made from fine white cotton or linen (the origin of the word lingerie) so they could be boil washed for hygienic reasons. In winter wool would be used too.
In the 20th century knickers got gussets. In the 1920s knickers, like hemlines, rose coming up from the knee to the mid-thigh. Now in colour – usually gorgeous pastels and patterns were found in peach, light green and pink. They were often bias cut and fastened with a button or press stud. In the exhibition there is a card with “Celedon” in lovely soft shades. This new fabric (artificial silk) was often now used for underwear. From the 1950s onwards pants were made from nylon too. From around 1940 onwards women started wearing briefs similar to the standard worn today with the thong coming along in the 1970s. In the 21st century knickers are used in high fashion as outwear in a final ironic twist.
We needed this information – and the history of the corset, the stay, the bustle, legwear, etc to understand what we were looking at. As ever I wanted it
in date order
associated with the fashions of the day
explained
For me a cabinet of “transparent” items – including a Jane Austen type dress, Kate Moss’s gold dress and a modern designer dress with visible knickers just didn’t really make sense. The maternity cabinet was quite interesting in that a corset with side lacing and buttons on the princess line for nursing, a 19th C blouse with discreet openings for breast-feeding and a sweet, striped pregnancy corset for a tiny woman.
Maternity corset
A fun exhibition yes, but if you want to know the history of underwear it won’t really help. You have to do the work.
Since I decided to give up on the Sewing with a Plan, i have been reKondoing. As a result I have restored my sewing area to its pristine, professional space. I thought I would embark on a small scale, quickly made project. A bit like having a juicy medjool date after a fast. Easing back into joyful construction.
While tidying up I found a bedraggled remnant of pure wool jersey. This was £5 from Misan; soiled, chopped into, and creased. I love working with wool jersey; it’s a nice weight and very stable (compared to thin jersey). Pure wool jersey responds very well to pressing and doesn’t stretch much. It is easy to wear and comes in nice colours. But it is pricey. McCulloch and Wallis has a range of nice colours (you have to order it) at £60 a metre. Sewn with pure cotton thread, the stitches just sink in, giving a good, crisp, snap. I know they say polyester thread is best with jersey, but I like cotton with wool. This is “color” 666, rather than “colour” – I got three reels on Clitheroe market, in Lancashire, and you have to wonder how they got there.
Pure cotton thread
I bought the pink (you know I am fond of pink) thinking I would mix it with some other pink cloth, perhaps leather. But it has been in the cupboard for a while now, and I got it out last week. put it on the cutting table and wondered if I could make a jacket using my self drafted peplum pattern. I was surprised I could get most of the jacket out of the scant fabric. But either the peplum or the sleeves would have to go.
Generally the idea of introducing a second piece of wool jersey was popular (Anne Whalley), but I don’t have any and wasn’t planning on buying some. I did have a good look at what I had in stock – the only fabric that went really well with the pink was some pink chiffon, but that ruled itself out fairly quickly. I had some stiffish (maybe furnishing) fabric, in colours which co-ordinated with pink, but it wouldn’t have looked like it belonged somehow.
I am afraid quite a few respondents said “drop the peplum”, or “peplums have had their day” or similar sentiments (Sewrendipity). Grace Royall suggested a shorter peplum.
Then there was the contrast sleeves brigade – leather sleeves (Daisy Crumpet), white lace sleeves (Sew Busy Lizzy), contrasting jersey sleeves, silver sleeves (foxglovesandthimbles)
And others noted that while the peplum was old hat, sleeveless jackets were in (2p and Charles).
I decided to go for a sleeveless jacket. Like thegirlinateacup I love a nice peplum. I never bought one in the shops when they were fashionable (a couple of years ago) because RTW peplums are often stuck on too high. I like mine on the waist.
I was able to get the front, neck and arm-hole facings out of the piece, but the peplum itself needed lining in a different fabric. I used a deep pink sateen with a bit of stretch. And I found an open-ended white zip for the front, although pink might have been better.
deep pink lining
I fear without an undershirt I might look a bit like my birthday suit. My husband thinks it resembles another Star Trek outfit. Esme asked me if I was moonlighting as a chamber maid at our local hotel. One thing my family will never let me become is at all conceited about my sewing. To be honest they sometimes undermine my confidence and make me wonder what the heck I was thinking. I guess, now it is done, that it was a mistake to not to include sleeves. And the white zip is nasty. I may try to alter it by adding sleeves, or trimming it. Or maybe just take it to the charity shop before I waste any more time.
Last week the windows and doors went in. In the sitting room the side which overlooks the lake is glass. The doors concertina inwards into the house giving unrestricted access to the entire balcony. This is certainly the wow factor for the house. Imagine it without scaffolding. Imagine it with the windows folded away on a hot day – a wide terrace allows comfortable outside eating and sunbathing. This lake is just for the birds, and the fish. No swimming or boating. So it will always be peaceful and we will be able to enjoy nature throughout the seasons.
Living Room windows, Rainshore
Also we got the pictures from the kitchen designer. These are not too exact – for example the lamp shades and seats are archetypes. Basically the large windows in the drawing on the right are the ones you can now actually see, above. The kitchen has a sink part with cupboards and shelves, and the island unit is also the informal eating area. Although in our current flat we have a regular dining table we almost always eat at the “breakfast bar”/cutting out table. So we have reproduced this arrangement in our new home.
In the meantime we have revisited our colour scheme. You may remember we wanted white, grey and Hound Lemon. For one reason and another we couldn’t quite agree on the yellow. So we have had another think. In our current (Georgian) home we depend on neutrals, using traditional greeny-stone greys. With a much more modern home we thought we would go with the beautiful “Easy Greys” of Farrow and Ball.
The company writes
Comforting and easy to use, many people will interpret the Easy Greys as the hugely popular tones of the Gustavian period we see so often in Scandinavian decorating styles. These neutrals have a gossamer appearance that is ideal for those who prefer understated decoration. Neither too cool, nor too warm, this neutral family is calm and easy to live with.
Here are the detailed descriptions Farrow and Ball give for their colours. Although I admit it is slightly pretentious, I find these descriptions helpful.
Purbeck Stone
Purbeck Stone which resembles the colour of the stone in the Isle of Purbeck, is the strongest of our Easy Neutrals with which it is the perfect counterbalance. Less cool and softer than Manor House Gray, it is the perfect tone for well lit modern rooms.
Cornforth White
Cornforth White is the mid tone in the group of Easy Neutrals which are totally understated and extremely versatile. Less grey and gritty than Pavilion Gray and without the perceived warmth of Elephant’s Breath, it sits perfectly between Ammonite and Purbeck Stone with which it can be used in any combination.
Ammonite
Ammonite is named after the treasured fossils often found on the Dorset coast. It has a fantastically understated modest quality, working perfectly with all the Easy Grey group. It is not gritty or industrial but has a subtle grey tone that suits all contemporary homes.
Wevet
Wevet is Dorset dialect for a spiders web which is the perfect name as it really does have a translucent, gossamer feel to it, like a web. It has the same level of colour as Wimborne White but is definitely much more contemporary in feel, with its cool starched base. Wevet can be used as a wall colour for a very neutral contemporary space or on ceilings or woodwork when combined with cooler greys.
What we are planning is to paint the ceiling in Wevet, which is white, to all intents and purposes, with Ammonite on the walls. Purbeck stone, the darker grey is for the skirting boards. Cornforth White goes on the doors, cupboards and the kitchen units. The general look we are trying for a cross between the House of Cards kitchen and a Carl Larsson painting. Neither of these on its own does it for us, (one too harsh; the other too folksy) but combined we have something we like. A grey and white palette, with our wooden floors and staircase, with a few splashes of colour, taken from the Shaker palette.
House of Cards kitchen
The other long-standing inspiration Nick and I love is Shaker style, where white walls, wooden floors and furniture are complemented by putting paint on wood. We enthuse about the restrained way the Shaker’s used accent colour – little touches of red, dark blue, green and yellow. Although the historic colours vary, this paint was probably labelled “blue” “red” or “yellow” rather than the evocative (affected?) names like “dead salmon” and “elephant’s breath” that Farrow and Ball favour. This is the main departure from our earlier plan, where the yellows were a bit faded and greenish.
We are going to check the building on 20 May. I’ll let you know how it is progressing then.
You may remember a whole series of posts (a year ago) on how I Kondo’ed my life. I got rid of everything that was weighing me down and, with a stripped down, purposeful life I felt happier.
Well, it worked. I really liked the feeling of deliberation and control. Choosing outfits and things to put in my handbag from a carefully curated selection. Always knowing where to find a small safety pin, a pair of pink tights or my walking boots. Not losing stuff and knowing the place where everything was kept.
Life changing yes.
But, and Kondo makes quite a lot of this, it is supposed to be a once in a lifetime change. And for me, gradually, the old habits came back. New stuff entered my home, by hook or by crook. I bought stuff. Not all of it loved and then it would get shoved, guiltily, in a drawer. Worse than acquisition, I dropped some of the disciplines such as folding my clothes carefully before I slotted them back into the drawer. Putting things on top of other things so I could no longer see the thing underneath. Out of sight, out of mind, and then I would buy stuff I didn’t really want or need. This was what led to my hoarding post last week.
The feeling became uncomfortable for me. Like when you eat so much your tummy hurts. Or you drink and feel terrible the day after. I began to just feel a bit unhappy, losing things and feeling muddled.
In the middle of the hard slog SWAP challenge I kept saying to myself “I will spring clean after it is over, in May”. And then wondering if some of my SWAP struggles were actually due to the disorder that was building up. I love being organised and tidy, yet I was working through mess and piles of unidentified stuff.
Spring Cleaning
So, I started to Re-Kondo. Don’t know if it is “a thing” but this is what I have done. If you too have Kondo’ed and lost your way here are my notes and learnings.
Tips for doing a ReKondo
Dedicate some time. Less than the original but give yourself a full day or two or more. Concentrate on doing it properly.
Like the first time through you can’t just do one drawer or room at a time. Start with clothes, and follow the original order or methodology that worked for you.
You will identify things you have bought since the first Kondo that you don’t like or need (joyless). Discard
You will find things that you have used a lot but now look old and scruffy. Discard
You will find things you kept last time but have not used for a year. Discard
You will find things that got hidden because you didn’t put everything back carefully. Expose these to your gaze by proper folding and see if they get used. This is where I feel joy being sparked. Opening a drawer and finding things that I like, displayed for my selection, a bit like going into a nice shop rather than a jumble sale.
You may find your folding technique has got sloppy. I was a bit disappointed with myself as neatly folded means that the clothes last longer and won’t need ironing before you wear them.
You may find things that need a wash and a press. Give them what they deserve before replacing.
By pulling everything out you can refold neatly. However many items will already be neatly folded so you can just make a decision and put them back
When everything is pulled out use the opportunity to vacuum the space and wipe it with a clean cloth.
If you do it well you will have some empty drawers and spaces. I like this feeling.
I even tidied my pin cushions. And in doing so I discovered 15 needles that had been lost inside the tomato! Isn’t that shocking? I removed them all, with trepidation and tweezers, as if I was doing a delicate operation. For a couple of years I assumed I had dropped them on the floor and lost them forever.
Tidy pincushions and discovered needles
Other reflections
Kondo makes light of the putting away only taking a few minutes every day. I suggest that this ritual may take a bit longer – ten to fiveteen minutes a day of folding, tidying, getting everything straight. I don’t always have the energy for this. If lose your daily discipline it will slide. Not as much as before, but still you can get out of sync.
Re-Kondoing is a lot easier than doing it the first time round. It is still worth being ruthless. Do you really like/need that item (does it spark joy?). Just because it is quick doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be thoughtful.
Make sure you can see what you have already got. This is the most important message for me as it saves me buying things I already have.
Spring cleaning has a long history. Doing an annual Kondo at the same time makes sense.
I am not completely finished, but already I feel better. My sewing adventure at the weekend was lighter, easier and, with everything to hand, I got less frustrated.
Colourful threads
I wasn’t enjoying the sewing and even though I have only two or three garments to go I have simply lost the desire to finish this year.
I seem to have had an ambiguous relationship with SWAP 2016 from the start when I found it hard to commit and get started. I didn’t get excited by the brief this year so I tried to make up my own rules. I decided I would work on my construction techniques, and chose advanced patterns and difficult fabrics (silk chiffon, slippery silk, sandwashed silk, sequins, leather, plus lots of embellishment), but I never quite got the finish I sought.
Karen Kbenco commented yesterday:
It seems to me that having a beautiful fabric in the collection, and working with extensively in the imagination, often means that when the fabric becomes a garment, there is no possible way that it can meet my expectations. However, sometimes these garments that initially are a little disappointing, not matching my inner vision, later become favourite pieces in my wardrobe.
I like most of the items, but perhaps not together (too dressy). Individually they will all become key parts of my summer wardrobe, but I just don’t want to do matchy-matchy. I will, over time, put on the various garments and show you how I am wearing them, but I have run out of puff.
Simplicity Blouse with !960 Biki pencil skirt
I know I still have plenty of time to change the plan and introduce two or three new ideas. Last year I did make big changes (but a little earlier than this point). In an ideal world, where I didn’t have a job, family and other commitments, I might have thought about a new plan. Maybe a jersey jacket in pink, or some lilac jeans. I don’t know. But I do know I haven’t got the time or the bandwidth to rethink the whole plan now.
Of course there is an opportunity to submit two previously made or RTW items. But I wouldn’t be happy with that. And besides what I actually want to make is my complicated Schiaparelli blouse, a Chanel type jacket and the Karen dress (a kind gift from Kim) and some Vogue summer dresses. And none of these items easily slips into my SWAP.
I don’t feel disappointed. I actually feel relieved. I don’t want my SWAP plans to dictate to me at the moment. I have some difficult things to deal with in my life and I don’t really want to challenge myself in terms of sewing. So I am going to let it go now, with pleasure about what I have achieved, and appreciation of all those who are carrying on.
This gives me the space to take a little break. To sew without a deadline. And to sort out my house which is getting a bit messy and crowded. I will enjoy putting away my SWAP fabrics and patterns, and spring cleaning the house. If I can let go of worry about my unfinished SWAP – I know I will feel better. I want to say a big, grateful, thank you to the very kind people who have cheered on all my efforts and salute those who are focused on reaching the finishing line. For me there is always next year….
The thing I loved the best was Flora. Her great beauty is enhanced by flowers that pick up the warm blonde of her hair, the light blue, white and almost black of her eyes, the rosy orange of her lips and deeper pink of her blushes. The very dark green/black motifs stop her looking sickly or too girlish. Her hair is threaded with flowers , and a little drown is piled on the top of her head. A wreath-collar-necklace made of the darkest evergreen leaves encircles her neck, and woven into the base are sprigs of wild flowers; their colours, a little stronger and deeper than those on her head. And under the collar is a silk or cotton dress, painted with flowers. Here the palette is more restricted – just reddish pinks, deep green and the natural-white ground. What skill Botticelli exhibits not just in terms of his painting technique and ability to capture beauty, but also in creating harmony between the human form and nature. The pink-blue-yellow, grounded with a judicious use of both softened black and white make the colour composition come alive. This image has inspired dress designers, through the ages, to work flowers into clothes. At the V&A exhibition you can see how Schiaparelli did this in her 1938 Pagan collection.
Botticelli’s Flora
Chanel uses feathers and strong colours to create a beautiful floral dresses.
Flowers at ChanelChanel catwalk with flowers
This lovely dress is by Marc Bohan from the 1960s. It looks like he has used millinery flowers on a creamy linen dress. It may include applique, embroidery or printing too. This dress is in the FIDM museum which looks like an amazing place to discover. Unfortunately its website search doesn’t work very well.
Here is a dress by Alexander McQueen that I saw last year at the V&A. This too was inspirational for me. He ensures that floral is not sweet, but edgy. Purple, brown and greenish flowers are often the plants which encourage insects that feed on dead things.
Alexander McQueen floral dress S/S 2007
Below I have three images of the recurring attraction of floral embellishment of clothing. In the first I am a bridesmaid at my Uncle Raymond’s wedding. I am wearing a white velvet dress and a floral crown of blue and white flowers. In the second in about 1988 with my daughter Esme. We are both wearing vintage jumpers with embroidered flowers. These may appeal to Stephanie who is putting flowers on her SWAP jumper. In the third picture is my version, a little sweet pea blouse I made, paired rather inappropriately with my Iris printed, silk SWAP Biki of Milan skirt. But as Kim Hood says “More is more”. I liked the effect so much I really would like to make a dress or another blouse with applied flowers. Personally I like the artful randomness of these items rather than forcing flowers into a pattern.
I don’t know if it is the start of spring (well in the UK at least) but lots of bloggers are getting just a bit introspective. Why do we keep buying fabric and patterns when we already have enough? First up was Bunny with this provocative quotation from Mimi.
“When I was employed by a major pattern company years ago, I learned a very important piece of information…Pattern companies don’t sell patterns; they sell dreams. 75% of patterns purchased never even get opened by the person who purchased them. Look in your own storage, and tell me I’m not wrong on this…right?”
I cringed, recognising myself.
Then Kim from The Material Lady wrote a thoughtful piece about sticking to certain styles which suit us, but does that mean we are in a rut? Again I (who have bought the same pattern more than once and had about 20 light grey T shirts) could relate.
And finally Carolyn of Diary of a Sewing Fanatic posted an article where she describes her fabric collection (I too refuse to call it stash like it is an illegal drug). She has a tremendous amount of fabric put aside, but then she makes lots of clothes, not just for herself. She says her large stock is to take her through retirement when money will be short.
So – what do you think?
My immediate reaction was somewhat defensive.
I admit I have something like;
150 patterns
100 pieces of fashion fabrics plus
10m calico for muslins
20m silk organza
10m lining fabric
10m various interfacings
100 zips
50 reels of thread
500 buttons
and a drawer full of scraps
I swore that I will make up all my remaining patterns, post Kondo. But of course Mimi is right. Most of my (second hand) patterns have never been made up – they are in their pristine factory folds 50 or so years after they were manufactured.
What is true of my patterns is also true of my fabrics. I literally have so many pieces of cloth that I don’t know where to store what I already have. I have a basket under the bed, as well as the official place. Last weekend, in Brussels I succumbed and bought three metres of dark navy fabric with tufts of white, red and blue. I like the fabric, and will probably make up a Chanel type jacket. Excuse: my husband egged me on and paid for it (birthday present).
Dream, Stash or Plan?
Do you Dream, Stash or Plan?
The basic reason I have so much stuff is because of how I sew.
This is most easily explained by describing my cooking method. I have a reasonable repertoire of meals that I cook quite well, and based on my wide experience of eating for many years I can make most things. I don’t have a recipe book and rarely consult the internet. I never pick up those recipe cards in the supermarket and buy all the ingredients. Do you?
Retro Recipe Cards
I cook my signature dishes, but often I “make do”. Broccoli in the fridge? Soup, stir fry, with pasta or steamed with fish. Fancy a curry? Ginger, garlic and chilli in the fridge, maybe some coriander, dry spices and can of chick peas in my panty. In other words I see what I have before I decide what to make. I use dried, canned, or frozen ingredients to make up the meal and use my creativity and knowledge of cooking to make it taste pretty good. Even though I live within a ten minute walk of a Waitrose, M&S, Tesco and Sainsbury’s I rarely nip out for a lemon. I would rather use what I already have – a lime, orange or tangerine; possibly vinegar or a splash of wine, tamarind or lemon grass? This is partly laziness but also I don’t feel the need to obey a prescription. What is a recipe, but someone else’s opinion, taste and methodology? I have enough confidence in my own approach to vegetables, fish and meat; herbs, spices and dressings; international flavours experienced through travel and good ethnic restaurants. I don’t feel the need for Jamie to hold my hand.
It’s much the same with the sewing. I can walk to some very good fabric shops. McCullough and Wallis, and John Lewis are a short bus hop away ( I now have a free bus pass). But I don’t really want to buy everything listed on the notions list. Sometimes it is necessary, but invariably I have something left over from a previous project. I may have bought a job lot, at a low price, on the internet – say of zips in a variety of colours – that will certainly do. (I mainly buy long zips – 23″ or so and cut them down if they are too long.) It makes a lot of sense to buy interfacing, lining, underlining and calico in 10m pieces rather than bits and bobs.
I feel that buying what the list says is like following a recipe slavishly – something you might do if you were learning to cook, or wanted to create something exactly like someone else. I find that making a garment (if you are reasonably experienced) may require, and even benefit from, many compromises and departures from the plan. I would rather take the risk of this than going out and buying a specified 21″ zip in exactly the right colour and then finding that, post-alterations, I need a 22″ one.
Threads and buttons
I buy things I know I will need, when I see them. I buy fabrics that suit me, in sufficient proportions to make say a coat, jacket, skirt, dress or blouse. Invariably less than a pattern envelop will specify and sometimes I have to change my plans because I am short of fabric. But I enjoy the challenge and creativity involved here, just as I enjoy it when someone turns up unexpectedly and I manage to make a meal from salad ingredients, dry noodles, a chilli and a tablespoon of peanut butter.
The other main reason I have many patterns and pieces of cloth is that I find them inspirational. I enjoy looking at them. I enjoy putting together fabric and patterns, sometimes in unexpected ways. It is the click of creativity that spurs me on to hours of labour.
When I Kondoed I considered giving away my collection, and it’s not that I have a very strong emotional attachment to it; it’s that I fear I would build it up again. For me the pleasure of thinking about what I might make – with a fashionable, modern pattern; or a beautiful, vintage couture pattern, or one I have made myself – is always seductive. And creativity needs raw material, literally, too. This piece of fabric lends itself to this type of garment. And my mind plays with these unlimited options for days, sometimes years.
Patterns and Fabrics
Do you hoard stuff or just buy what you need for the current project? Does your method relate to how you do things more generally?
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