#vintagesewingpatterns

The Gored Skirt in the 1970s: Butterick 4139

This skirt pattern shows you how some basic cuts come back again and again, with slightly different emphasis, to serve current purposes. In the 1930s, gores--that is, pattern pieces widened from the waist to the hemline--only flared towards the lower-calf hemline. The gored look of the 1940s had more width as hemlines crept upwards and easy movement became a priority during World War II with gas rationing and more walking and talking public transit. The width of gored skirts grew enormously with the New Look in 1947, and hemlines dropped again as fabric was no longer rationed. The A-line silhouette of much of the 1960s meant that gores were not much used in mini-skirts, and simple cuts--skirts of 2 seams only-- were popular.

In contrast, this pattern from the 1970s makes the most of the 8 gores to give width and movement to the fabric of the skirt. It is fitted only at the waist and top of the hip line, then flares out from there, and ends around the knee, which reminds me of 1940s skirts. The idea of easy movement is implied by the slight sway of the pale orange skirt on the right. The style flexibility of the gored skirt is apparent in the range of blouses as much as in the lengths. The long, party skirt is for an evening out, shown here with a white gathered blouse trimmed with lace. But a bowed blouse and two collared blouses indicates that it could be worn as a shorter skirt for work or for spectator sports. In fact, the shorter blue skirt's is worn by a woman holding binoculars, as if she was at the races.

Gored skirts require two things for sewing success: fabric with drape in a solid color or a small, non-directional print. The first to allow a graceful sway as a woman moves. Think crepes or challis. The second to avoid matching a print and to allow a close placing of the pattern pieces. If you have to lay each piece with the hemline oriented at the same end, you end up need a lot of fabric. If you can nestle them close toe each alternating pieces hemline near waistline, you can use a lot less. The shorter versions only take about 1.5 yards and the long 3 yards for 36" hips.

Large selection of RenFaire, renaissance and reenactment costumes to choose from.  Most are uncut and factory folded, available in a wide range of sizes - regular to plus size available!

Not Going Anywhere Fast in 1950, Vogue 1964

This 1950 ensemble with sleeveless dress and matched caplet captures the other skirt silhouette introduced by Christian Dior in 1947: the long and narrow. We tend to think of the long, wide skirt as the New Look of the post-war era, but Dior also offered long, narrow skirts that year as well. Both had the small waistlines and soft shoulders you see here in a Vogue Pattern re-issued in modern sizes.

I was intrigued by the shape of this dress  The bodice has a deep horizontal tuck whose purpose seems two-fold: decoratively, it both echoes the deep stitching that holds the capelet’s self-lining in place and makes the waistline seem even narrower as the eye notes the pleat is wider than the bodice where it hits the skirt (that portion is gathered).

Then, the skirt of the dress has deep pleats at the waistline which create more space for the body and seems easier to wear. But look at the sketch of the pattern piece, and you see that the pleats are not meant to add walking easy. Instead, the skirt narrows from those pleats at the waistline down to the low hemline.

Looking at the fashion illustrations, we can see that walking was never the point. This ensemble was a dressy afternoon outfit, or an evening out ensemble. Think concert, cocktail party, dinner out. See the large, black hat and long, black gloves, the corsage, and pearls around the neck to the right, and the long white gloves worn with a veiled hat and again pearls on the right. Standing, chatting, flirting, and sitting were the main activities, not walking, which is why this is not a practical day ensemble with walking ease, but one where the waist pleats help show off the small waist and the roundness of the hips. A quiet, but effective means of drawing attention to the figure.

Nope, That Is Not a Blouse: Simplicity 9817

This set of re-issued accessories from the 1950s has some expected items and some unusual ones. Collars and cuffs that could be switched out, and thus give some variety to one dress, were a standard feature from at least the late 19th Century onward. Here, you see two rounded versions and one designed to look like lapels on a blouse.

Hair bows too date way back although this is a bow on a headband which was a newer look in the 1950s. The bias-cut sash, which you see on the bottom row in red and in green stripes is also a traditional idea and here it is pulled through a buckle.

A newer idea was the dickey that looked like a blouse. These were often recommended during World War II when fabric was hard to get. A woman could use just a small bit of fabric, maybe a remnant from a bigger project, and could give a new look under a dress that could not be replaced. It was also possible, as it is suggested by these illustration to wear a dickey under a suit as you see in the lower right hand corner with a two-color version. Yes, it looks like a wrapped blouse or a halter top, but this item actually has back and no sides and ties at the waist. I am not sure I see the point unless you had a desperate lack of fabric. Wouldn't it be no more difficult to make a halter top, or a sleeveless blouse? And surely, wearing an actual top would be more comfortable and less awkward, and allow you to doff your jacket if you liked.

You can find this pattern at your local fabric store or online here:

Cousin to The Seven Year Itch Halter Dress, Butterick 6938

There is a famous scene in the 1955 film, The Seven-Year Itch, a movie set in a hot summer in New York City when air conditioning was still rare. Marilyn Monroe is standing over a subway grate and the whoosh of a train blows up the skirt of her white halter dress giving some relief from the heat.

This re-issued 1950s pattern from Butterick is the cousin to that famous white dress. There are differences--Monroe’s dress by Travilla had a pleated skirt, a waist-tie, and no buttons in front--but they share a silhouette of fitted bodice with a halter neck and a full skirt.  Indeed, you could alter this pattern to make it look more like the iconic dress, but the ensemble here is both charming and practice.

The buttons on the front bodice appear on the little jacket as well. And the jacket is a nice addition since air-conditioning can create a chill on many a summer evening out.  While the buttons are functional, you get into the dress with a side zipper.

The dress and jacket take 6-7 yards of 45″ fabric, and they suggest crispy cottons like chambray, broadcloth or pique, or fancier silks like taffeta or shantung.  I  would either test muslin the bodice or add extra-large seam allowances (3/4″), so that you can tweak the close fit. You need to take into account the shape of the shoulders, the bustline and the waistline and how they relate to each other, are you long-waisted, short-waisted, etc.

Realize the skirt will be WIDE, and you may prefer to pleat it rather than gather it at the waist to reduce bulk. The 1950s designers loved the fitted bodice with the enormous skirt, but many of us find it overwhelming to the eye.

Betwixt and Between: Sub-Teens & Slacks: Simplicity 4540

Separates were an idea that had been around for a while, at least to the days of the shirtwaist around 1900, and were made even more popular by Claire McCardell in the 1950s. McCardell liked to have separates made in the same fabric to look like dresses as you see in the print and the plaid skirts and blouses here in the top row. McCardell like a covered-up top and a bare top which went with the same skirt, while many others realized harmonizing coordinates simply made it easier to get dressed.

This patterns dates to the early 1960s and shows us how a moment in time and in the life cycle could get dressed. Slacks on women were for informal occasions, like resort wear or dirty work, although women began wearing fancy silk slacks around the house for informal entertaining during the 1950s. On girls--and these patterns were for 8-14 sub-teen sizes--slacks were for play time or at-home time. By the late 1960s, pants on women were for every occasion, despite the protests of conservative dresses. But here you can see there was still a level of formality, or perhaps we should say of a level of harmony expected, as these coordinates were made of the same fabrics as the skirts or the vest. The days of a pair of jeans with any kind of top were still in the future.

The skirt is a simple rectangle with pleats at the waistline and both the skirt and the pants close with a zipper. The vest is lined to the edge, and buttons closed. Notice the collared blouse has cuffs as well. Cottons are recommended, but so are linens, silks, and even lightweight woolens for cooler months. These garments took a fair amount of sewing effort and ability. Maybe possessed by the sub-teen herself, but more likely by her mother or some older relative.

The Tent Dress Goes Glamorous: Vogue 1947

The term tent dress is usually used as a kind of insult for a dress that has no fit at all. True, this has a “tent-shape” being narrower at the shoulders and flaring from there hitting well over 2 yards of width at the hemline in the short version. Despite this lack of shape in line, it was supposed to be glamorous as you can see from the illustrations.

The only shape added to the dress is the belt to be tied at the waist, but the huge sweeping collar, a borrowing from more restrained 1930s Bertha collars and cape collars, gives it glamour. As do the fabric suggested for it which include matte jersey and I thought immediately of Quiana, a Dupont product made of nylon that was pricey at the time it was introduced in the late 1960s and was oh-so-slinky. They also recommend crepe and challis which also have a lot of drape. All of these fabrics would allow the cape and the skirt to swing easily as you moved. The touch of pockets in the two front seams are so Seventies too, implying a nonchalant attitude despite the glamour.

Of course, the lines of this dress would look especially good on the tall and thin models that dominated the 1970s runways when fashion shows had turned into public spectacles, and were no longer the intimate showings to wealthy women and the fashion press gathered in salons to take a look. On a more petite woman, the cape would overwhelm her unless it was cut down to smaller proportions.