Category Archives: Resources for Costumers

More Cloche Hat Patterns from 1925: Butterick 5966 and 5952

In 1925, home stitchers could make these cloche hats from Butterick patterns.

Several years ago I wrote about a versatile hat and scarf pattern from Butterick (No. 5218.) I mentioned that my own experience making 1920s’ hats was with factory-made felt hat “shapes,” so  I was surprised to find that pattern companies like Butterick issued many hat patterns for home stitchers. A cloche hat made from a gored hat pattern was apparently quite do-able, and as the decade progressed, the patterns became a little more complex. Many hat patterns for little girls (and girls up to age 12) appeared in Delineator magazine, but patterns 5966 and 5952 were available in a full range of sizes. In this illustration, they are shown with dresses for girls 8 to 15.

Young teen girls wear Butterick hats 5966 and 5952 in this illustration from Delineator, June 1925.

Hat pattern 5952 has six gores and a brim (and usually a bow on top;) 5966 has just one center back seam, and the small brim does not continue all the way around the back, leaving a small space for a bun at the nape of the neck if the wearer’s hair was not bobbed into a short style.

Butterick hat patterns 5966 and 5952, Delineator, April 1925.

Butterick Cloche Hat Pattern 5952

Six-gored hat, Butterick 5952. This style was  illustrated in Delineator in 1925 and 1926.

Pattern 5952 could be made from contrasting fabrics (or from one fabric with the grain running in two different directions.)

5952 with the grain running two different ways.

Hat 5952 made in a shiny solid fabric, in a striped or textured fabric with the grain in two directions, or in one smooth fabric which doesn’t show differences in grain. 1925.

Side view of 5953 with contrasting grain. The back brim is very narrow.

Hat 5952 in a shiny fabric. Crepe satin could also be used, alternating matte and shiny sides.

If this hat was made from a delicate fabric like silk or velvet, you would need to flat-line it (and the brim) with a more substantial interfacing.

The bow at the top did not need to be self-fabric. In later illustrations, this hat was often shown without the bow.

Without the bow on top, hat 5952 is a very simple six-gored cloche. March, 1926; Delineator.

Hat 5952 as shown in January 1926. Delineator. Notice that the brim could be worn different ways, showing the contrasting ribbon hat band.

A simple piece of jewelry on the velvet version of the hat makes it quite dressy. It could also benefit from elaborate embroidery or patterned fabric:

Hat 5952 in Delineator, February, 1926. The embroidery would probably be wool, or “pearl/perle” embroidery floss in cotton, silk, or rayon.

Butterick Cloche Hat Pattern 5966

Butterick hat 5966, shown in April, 1925. “For ladies and misses” and for girls.

Duvetyn was a brushed fabric; wool duvetyn was often recommended for coats.

Hat 5966 has just one seam up the back, and a decorative self-fabric “feather” or leaf, apparently tucked under [or does it go through?] a pinch of fabric at the top.

Butterick hat pattern 5966. Delineator, April 1925.

Butterick hat 5966 in a side view; it’s shown with coat pattern 6037. May, 1925. Delineator.

The shading makes it appear to have gores, but they aren’t mentioned in the description.

If that illustration shows corded silk, and there is only one seam, perhaps the top of the pattern piece is shaped like the top of a heart. Is this a cylinder with a strange, curved top? There is no front seam. The grain appears to run either vertically or horizontally. Does the “leaf” pass through a slit at the top? Too bad that the Commercial Pattern Archive *** doesn’t have this pattern. Yet.

Hat 5966 illustrated in Delineator, May 1925. Passing a tie through a bound buttonhole in the dress was quite common in Twenties’ fashions.

This pattern was available for ladies, misses, or girls.

This young woman wears hat 5966 and carries a tennis racquet. (She’s a little distorted by being close the the binding of the book I used.)

Left, a purchased hat; right, Butterick hat 5966. May 1925, Delineator.

It’s not clear what that blue hat is trimmed with (beads? silk flower petals? felt shapes?) but it looks like you could copy it using pattern 5952 without the bow. Here is one more view of No. 5966:

Another side view of Butterick 5966 from 1925. It seems to be velvet, matching the collar and sleeves of the dress.

*** If you already use the Commercial Pattern Archive, skip this section. If you have anything to do with vintage patterns or dating vintage clothing, you need to know about CoPA!

If you have never visited the CoPA site located at the University of Rhode island, you can create a log in — it is free! — and have access to images of more than 64,000 vintage patterns, all of them dated; the envelopes/pattern layouts are photographed when possible. Pattern layouts show you the shapes of the pattern pieces…. Curious? To see a great example, create a Log-in name and password; choose the “search for pattern number” option.  Type in pattern no. “1603,” select “McCall” from the Company name pop-down list, and hit “enter.” Next, click on the archive number at the far left (in this case, it’s 1927.91, because they are archived by date: 1927.) That click will give you a color image of the pattern illustration and all of the pattern pieces. You can print it. Sizing them up into a usable pattern will be up to you…. 🙂

While you are at the CoPA site, go back to the search page and select “Complete Search.” You will see several columns of search possibilities. If you select the year 1920 and hold down the Shift key, you can select 1920 through 1929. In the next column (“Garment,”) choose “Hat.”  In the Gender column, choose “Female.” In the other columns (Keyword, Pattern Company, Collection) choose “Any.” When you click on “Search” you will see every woman’s hat pattern in the collection that is dated between 1920 and 1929, with a small image of the pattern illustration. From there, you can explore them using the Archive numbers. As you can see, 1920s’ hat patterns are rare, but some have gorgeous color illustrations!

Once you start searching CoPA, you will see the amazing possibilities of this searchable digital archive. Imagine being able to scroll though hundreds of  1920s (or 1930s, or 1960s, etc.) patterns. Pick a year, or a range of years, and get a really specific overview of that era. Costume and pattern research has never been this easy!

 

 

 

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Filed under 1920s, Accessory Patterns, Children's Vintage styles, Coats, Dating Vintage Patterns, Hats, Resources for Costumers, Sportswear, Tricks of the Costumer's Trade, Vintage Accessories, Vintage patterns

Seeing Double on a Suit from 1926

Butterick costume suit 6641 from Delineator, March 1926, p. 27.

I’ve been browsing through old magazine issues in search of Butterick hat patterns from the Twenties. This unusual suit caught my eye. The first time I saw it, that bright scarf got my attention, but fortunately, Butterick featured this suit more than once. I confess it was a less colorful illustration that first made me take a second look at the lapels.

Butterick costume suit 6641 as illustrated in February, 1926. Delineator, p. 36.

(Technically, the open collars of the dress and jacket don’t have lapels; they are simply showing the contrast lining on the revers. The collar and lining of the plaid coat also make do without additional pattern pieces. Easy Peasy!)

I do like the way the dress and jacket echo each other to give that “seeing double” effect.

Butterick costume suit 6641, Delineator, February 1926, p. 27.

Although it says this is a suit for Misses 15 to 20 years (“and small women” is usually implied,) the illustration on page 36 shows a more mature (and very tall!) woman wearing it.

Butterick suit 6641 with coat 6639, Delineator, February 1926, page 36.

Alternate views of Butterick dress and jacket 6641. The dress has a pleat at its left side.

In the charming illustration below, the models are definitely in a younger age bracket. (Sadly, I did not photograph the pattern descriptions, but I would guess these are in the early “teen” years, possibly 10 to 15.) [The proportions of illustrations for girls and misses are less elongated and more realistic than those for adult women, so these Twenties’ clothes often look more attractive to modern eyes, including mine.]

Center, Butterick costume suit 6684 , illustrated in Delineator, March 1926, p. 31.

Butterick dress and jacket combination 6684 has button closings at neck and waist, but is otherwise very similar to pattern 6641. Its pockets are decorated with embroidery.

Butterick 6684 in a very dressy version for young women. Delineator, March 1926, p. 31. [I read the fabric as velvet.]

Her hat — a tam-o’-shanter –is also made from a Butterick pattern. (For more 1920’s tams, click here and here.)

Butterick tam-o’-shanter pattern 6246, Delineator, September 1925. “For girls, children, misses or ladies.”

It would be hard to find a dress and jacket that are simpler to make, and which equal these for classic Twenties’ style.

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Filed under 1920s, Coats, Resources for Costumers, Sportswear, Vintage Accessories, Vintage patterns

Capris or Pedal Pushers? Pants Vocabulary from 1971

Image from 1971 Vogue booklet Everything About Sewing Pants and Jumpsuits. Courtesy of Lynn Mally.

Lynn Mally at American Age Fashion wrote about her “find” last week: a 1971 booklet from Vogue patterns, Everything About Sewing Pants and Jumpsuits. Since I had been wondering whether my memories of vocabulary from this era were correct (or possibly just regional) I was delighted by her blog on this very topic.

I asked if I could enlarge some of the images so the labels would be easier to read. Here are the results:

Stovepipe pants and “elephant pants.” 1971.

Lynn and I agree that we wouldn’t call them “elephant pants;” I opt for “palazzo pants” and Lynn offered “just wide legged pants today.”

Straight legs and “gangster” pants. 1971.  I never called them “gangsters.” “Classic” or “forties’ trousers,” maybe.

We agree that the “gangsters” are now “Hepburn style,” with a pleat in front. Lynn quoted advice that “Even the short, curvaceous woman could look good in pants, especially if she chose straight-legged styles to add height.” I am a tall “curvaceous” woman who always searches for straight legs — by which I mean that the circumference at the ankle is not obviously smaller than the circumference at the thigh. (Costumers’ fact: 16″ is the narrowest trouser cuff a man can take off without removing his dress shoes. Does the actor make a fast change? Choose trousers for him with at least a 16″ circumference at the ankle.)

Jeans are the classic Levis worn by working cowboys and generations of young people. They are similar to stovepipe trousers. These “Hipsters” seem also to have flared legs (wider than “Boot” legs.)

I called low-waisted jeans and trousers “hip-huggers;” “hipsters” were people.

Ski pants and a bell-bottomed jumpsuit from 1971.

Those ski pants, held taut by straps under the foot, had been around since the 1950s. Stretch gabardine was becoming available. “Bell-bottom” trousers were originally copied from sailors’ pants. For a few years the U.S. Navy was right in step with women’s street wear. (Old song: “Bell-bottom trousers, coat of navy blue; he’ll go skipping up the rigging like his daddy used to do.”)

Top: Culottes or a “pantskirt;” Bottom: gaucho pants. 1971.

Culottes (aka a pantskirt) usually had pleats, like the ones shown here; when you stood with your legs straight, they appeared to be a pleated skirt, rather than a “divided skirt.” Gaucho pants didn’t have pleats, so it was obvious that they were pants. (They look like the “elephant pants,” shortened, but were not made of soft, flowing fabric. [However: see culotte pattern 5586, far below.]

Pedal pushers stop at mid-calf; Capri pants just bared the ankle area.

In 2019, we are used to seeing skintight “leggings” worn without a covering tunic blouse or dress. These tight, close-fitting Capris probably look attractive if you’re used to our current tight clothes. However, these 70s’ versions did not benefit from stretch fabrics and were usually made of poplin or another non-stretch, non-knit fabric. Mary Tyler Moore looked great in them on the Dick Van Dyke Show in the 1960s, but they were controversial.

Deck pants and knickers, 1971.

If they were cuffed and rolled up, pants (the ones  now called “cropped”) might be described as “deck pants ” or “clamdiggers.” Knickers appeared until the 1980s, although they did not flatter many figures. I only saw them worn by very young women — they were rather “costumey.”

Bermudas stopped at the knee; Jamaicas were shorter.

This was a “Preppie” fashion (“yes, we are collegiate!”) and most people called any thigh-covering shorts “Bermudas.” For perfect 1960s’ Preppie shorts, Indian Madras plaid was the favored fabric — although the real thing ran (“bled”) when washed….

“Boy shorts,” a “skort” (skirt/shorts) and “shortpants.” 1971.

“Boy shorts” were the most modest option. If you bent over while wearing a “skort” or “hotpants,” your butt cheeks showed. I owned a skort in 1971, but quickly realized that I had to wear matching dance briefs when riding a bicycle. (It had looked modest enough standing still, in the dressing room….) I never heard the word “shortpants.” These are “hot pants.” If you made your hot pants by cutting the legs off a pair of jeans and leaving the edge frayed, you had “Daisie Maes” (after the character in the Li’l Abner cartoon strip) or “Daisy Dukes” (after a character on the TV show Dukes of Hazzard.

As a sidelight: when women proved not eager to trade their mini-skirts for midi-skirts, mid-calf skirts that buttoned down the front were sometimes worn open over hot pants as a sort of compromise. Not for the office!

As I said before, fashion nomenclature is variable. A quick flip through patterns produced these:

Simplicity 6450 dated to 1966. “Hip rider bell bottoms, Slim Knee Knockers, Slim Jamaicas.”

McCall’s 5586 from 1977. Right: “culottes.” So I was wrong about culottes and gauchos. Maybe.

Simplicity 8829, dated to 1970. “Misses’ dress and pantdress in two lengths.” I’d say version 4 has straight legs and is not a dress, but a jumpsuit! I would call version 3 a “playsuit.” I owned both (store-bought) in 1970.

Butterick 6888 from 1972. Left, jumpsuit; right, evening dress with front slit.

“Fashion is Spinach.” — Elizabeth Hawes.

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Filed under 1960s-1970s, Panties knickers bloomers drawers step-ins, Resources for Costumers, Sportswear, Tricks of the Costumer's Trade, Women in Trousers

Less Familiar Designers of the 1920s, Number 1: Jenny (Part 1)

Evening dress by Jenny (Jeanne Adele Bernard Sacerdote) as sketched for Delineator, January 1926.

Some leading designers of the nineteen twenties have names that still sell fashion. Chanel comes to mind. Others were famous before and after the Twenties, like the House of Worth. Having a successful perfume brand helps: “Joy,” by Patou is still available. This is the first in a series about once-famous 1920s designers who are no longer well known.

Jenny (born Jeanne Adele Bernard, later Jenny Sacerdote) was ranked with those big names in the Twenties, but is not as well known today. I’ll be sharing a few of her designs, with links to help you find others.

These are merely a few of the designs by Jenny that were sketched for Delineator, *** and I do not have photos from every year between 1917 and 1930. Her ability to adjust to changes in fashion is admirable.  Born in 1868, she became famous in her fifties, showing 300 pieces in her collection of 1918.

Two sketches of couture by Jenny (Jenny Adele Bernard Sacerdote ) shows her ability to move with the times. Delineator, 1917 and 1927.

Left, a gown with a “tonneau” or “barrel” skirt — a fashion innovation from 1917. Right, a bare, narrow, fringed and beaded evening gown from 1927.

Jenny in 1917

Jenny was already being copied in 1915. The V&A collection has several color sketches of Jenny designs. London dressmaker Elizabeth Handley Seymour sketched hundreds of French couture gowns and coats which she was prepared to duplicate for her customers. She included this coat by Jenny, this evening gown, and this elegant afternoon or evening gown.

Jenny was such a “star” in 1917 that even her underwear collections were featured in “Reports from Paris.” She’s notable for her use of bright colors and print fabrics (!) in her lingerie:

This frothy undergarment was “sulphur-yellow ‘gaze’ trimmed with lace.” Delineator, August 1917.

On Jenny’s pink satin knickers, cream yellow lace is outlined with little roses or ‘cocardes’ [sic] of satin ribbon:

Doucet was a very well-established design house; Jenny is treated as his equal. Delineator, August 1917. Note the ribbon straps.

Print fabric lingerie by Jenny, 1917. Sketched for Delineator.

Jenny used “Flowered muslin in a quite indescribable design of white flowers outlined with pink on a blue background” for her pleated chemise, 1917. I remember how new and exciting print underwear was in the 1960s!

This pink chiffon Jenny dressing gown would have been called a “combing jacket” in an earlier era. (See “Peignoir.”)

A dressing gown by Jenny in Delineator, July 1917: “ruched pink chiffon over a pink satin skirt.”

Other Jenny designs from 1917 show that she had a sense of humor. She named this dress, amply trimmed with fur, “My hairy one.”

Jenny called this model “Mon Poilu” –“my hairy one.” Sketched for Delineator, December 1917.

However, her velvet skating dress seems a little impractical:

Jenny described this as a skating dress. Delineator sketch, December 1917. The tassels would be flying!

The coat below is actually sleeveless, worn over a matching gray silk dress. The geometric trim is stitching in green thread.

Short sleeveless coat over matching gray silk dress, green stitching. Jenny, sketched for Delineator, September 1917.

In June, 1917, Delineator showed a page full of couture designs which featured the new “barrel” silhouette. This was one from Jenny. Page 56.

Delineator claimed the barrel silhouette was chiefly the influence of Jeanne Paquin:

The barrel or tonneau skirt, sketched by Paquin’s own artist. Delineator, March 1917, p 56.

They look better to me when the model is sitting down.

Jenny created this dress for 1917. Delineator, March, p. 56. “Blue serge dress with eight box plaits over each shoulder. The square line at the neck appears in many of the new dresses.”

Left, a design by Jenny — in black satin under white chiffon embroidered with flowers — appears next to a design from the House of Worth. Delineator, March 1917.

I’m sure you could find many more Jenny designs: try searching for Delineator at Hathi Trust; select Journal, then choose a year, and search within the volumes you find. 1922 for example…

*** Note:  Butterick Publishing Company had offices in Paris, giving their pattern makers a chance to follow the very latest trends, which were reported on several times a year, often illustrated by Soulie. All the illustrations I’ll use in this “Less Familiar Designers” series come from Delineator‘s coverage. Caveat:  Pattern companies could sometimes buy couture items and copy them, but designers were not happy to be copied without any payment, so sketch artists attending fashion shows had to be quick and furtive, and sometimes had to work from memory. Read Fashion is Spinach, by Elizabeth Hawes for a sketcher’s real inside story.

Next: Jenny in the 1920s.

Tennis dress by Jenny, sketched for Delineator by Leslie Saalburg, February 1927.

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Filed under 1900s to 1920s, 1920s, evening and afternoon clothes, lingerie, Nightclothes and Robes, Panties knickers bloomers drawers step-ins, Resources for Costumers, Slips and Petticoats, Underthings, Underthings, Hosiery, Corsets, etc, Vintage Couture Designs, World War I

Binge-Watching The Pallisers: A Guilty Pleasure

From a late episode of The Pallisers, a 26 part TV series available on DVD. Picture copyright of BBC via the International Movie Database.

A Guilty Pleasure ….because I couldn’t watch just one!

I took a hard fall in September and wasn’t able to sit at a desk for several weeks. Fortunately, I had purchased the first six episodes of the 1974 BBC series The Pallisers and finally got around to watching them when I was spending my days in the recliner. After the first six, I definitely wanted more!

Thank heaven I eventually found the entire series on YouTube — all 26 glorious episodes.

If you want better picture quality, the 40th Anniversary reissued edition won’t fit in your Christmas stocking, but ask Santa, anyway. (Under $50 for over 20 hours of entertainment.)

It may take you a few episodes to get addicted to the plot; meanwhile the excellent costumes will keep you intrigued — although I was hooked by an early episode in which two horrible old Victorian ladies explain that, after her forced marriage produces an heir to the dukedom, a married woman is permitted to follow her own inclinations….

The novels on which the series is based cover several decades of fictionalized English history.  Anthony Trollope, who published them between 1864 and 1879, was as cynical about the workings of Parliament as he was about romance.

The costumes, therefore, progress from crinolines to bustles, and (surprisingly) through several pregnancies. Yes, the ladies have zippers down their backs — They are wearing costumes, and costumes are made to be re-used as rentals. But they are lavish and character oriented, as well as befitting a duchess and her circle of acquaintances. (And Susan Hampshire has always worn period costumes  — any period! — with complete naturalness.)  Raymond Hughes is the only costume designer credited. It was a massive undertaking.

Cover of the re-issued DVD series — 26 glorious episodes. Image copyright BBC and Acorn via Amazon.

Will passionate, romantic Cora give up the man she loves to marry the stiff, unemotional heir to a Dukedom, as their families have arranged? If so, will she be faithful? Will her husband survive a career in politics and marriage to Cora with his (and her) honor intact?

Can the son of an Irish country doctor afford to be a Member of Parliament — and how many women will be sacrificed to his ambition? (Money and Politics — still a timely topic! Ditto, Love and Loyalty.)

Will a slimy newspaper editor with political ambitions ruin men and women while paving his own way to power? (Long before the internet!)

Will the next set of costumes be even more lavish than the last?

I started watching for the costumes, and ended up unable to ration myself just one episode per day. (“I’ve been sitting her for three hours? even though I haven’t had dinner? How could I?”

But I regard those 20 hours in the recliner as time well spent. One quibble: not all the actresses were corseted properly. Nevertheless…. I loved it.

(P.S. I am walking normally now.)

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Filed under 1860s -1870s fashions, 1870s to 1900s fashions, A Costumers' Bookshelf, Costumes for the 19th century, Late Victorian fashions, Maternity clothes, Menswear, Mid-Victorian fashions, Musings, Resources for Costumers

French Lining

French lining pattern 6933 from Butterick. Delineator, June 1914, p. 74. It has princess seams and many neckline options.

As far as I can tell, a French lining is a closely fitting interior structure that is usually not the same shape as the finished garment we see. It is different from “flat lining,” or a “dropped in” lining shaped like the dress or skirt, or a coat lining that merely allows the coat to slide over other fabrics more easily.

“A French lining gives a perfection of fit that can be attained by no other means…. It makes an excellent foundation for the draped waists [blouses] now in vogue…. For stout figures a French lining is almost indispensable, and this design will prove most welcome, for it conforms to the newest lines. When made of thin material it may be used as a foundation for Summer dresses or waists, and when made of lawn or silk it is also an excellent foundation for the draped evening dresses now worn.” — Delineator, June 1914. p. 74

Delineator, June 1914, p. 74.

When you have a garment that is tightly fitted, “flat lining” [a lining whose pieces are the same shape as the fashion fabric and are sewed at the same time] will take some of the stress off the seams and the fashion fabric. But when you see a vintage garment that fits very closely in back, but appears to be loosely fitted in front, expect a French lining.

Inside this apparently loose-fitting bodice is a tight-fitting inner structure. Vintage garment.

This vintage bodice has no visible opening. The tight lining prevents “pull” on the fashion fabric’s concealed closure.

When you have a garment that is draped, or bloused, or which has complicated concealed closures, it will behave better with an invisible, body-hugging lining.

This vintage dress does not have a visible opening in front or down the back. It does not have a snap opening in the side seam.

How do you get into it?

Back of vintage lingerie dress. It doesn’t open down the back. Clue: There is a hook and eye closing on the left shoulder.

This sheer lingerie dress with a blouson top has a simple French lining made of net.

How do you get into this dress?

The bias cut lining, which takes the strain of the hooks and eyes, fastens at the center front.

The pattern for the inside of the dress is not the same shape as the pattern for the fashion layer. I would class this as a simple French lining.

The lining fastens at center front; the fashion fabric layer fastens with hooks and bars at the side and shoulder! The sleeves are attached to the French lining. The skirt opens at side front.

The “French Lining” pattern could be purchased separately, but was often included in a dress or blouse pattern.

The Commercial Pattern Archive has this Butterick pattern from 1914.

Butterick 7317; information from the pattern envelope, courtesy of CoPA (The Commercial Pattern Archive.) Notice how different the French lining pattern pieces (top center) are from the fashion fabric pieces (at the bottom.)

Left, the French lining is an 8 piece princess line pattern which fits closely to the body.

The French lining was meant to fit very tightly, and is the support for the fashion fabrics. It ensures that the weight of the dress is suspended from the shoulders, that the folds and blousing aren’t pulled out of place, and that the wearer always looks neat as a fashion plate. In No. 7317, the cross-over drape in front ties at center back.

Changing Body Shapes Seen in French Lining Patterns

These French lining patterns reflect the changing body shape as corsets changed.

1910: Butterick French lining pattern 3527, January 1910. Note the “sway back” shape caused by 1910 corsets. This princess seamed lining has 4 panels in front and 6 in back.

1914: Butterick French lining 6933 from June 1914. The lower bust and larger waist reflect a change in corset shape.

1917: Far right, French lining pattern 1042 from Ladies’ Home Journal, November 1917. The womanly torso is losing its curves.

1924: A French lining pattern from Butterick, July 1924. “…An excellent dress lining or… it can be used to cover a dress form.” It probably was intended for older or “stout” women, since 1920’s dresses were lighter and less structured than previous styles. It has a long, hip-length, waistless shape, like most Twenties’ dresses. Butterick 5361 came in sizes 32 to 48 bust.

French Lining Included in Patterns

The French lining is often based on a princess seamed pattern (like all of those above,) since this permits an extremely tight fit, perfectly contoured to the body. (A French lining also looks very much like the covering of a professional dressmaker’s mannequin.) When you are draping on a professional dress form, you can feel the underlying seams through your muslin — very handy for locating the exact bust point or side seam, or placing a dart.

Once the French lining was perfectly fitted to a woman’s body, she could also use it to figure out (Oops, accidental pun!) alterations to commercial patterns.

[I was taught to call an individually fitted basic pattern a “sloper;” they’re handy to have if you are making multiple costumes for the same actor — or several pairs of trousers for yourself! Fitting patterns are still sold.]

Butterick waist 6791; Delineator, April 1914.

Incredibly, the Commercial Pattern Archive at University of Rhode Island has the pattern for this waist! (If you just create a Log-in, you can use this wonderful site  — over 64,000 patterns and growing! — for free.) There’s always a link to CoPA in my “Sites with Great Information” sidebar.

Pattern pieces for Butterick 6791; Commercial Pattern Archive.

It’s no surprise that Butterick 7971 includes a French Lining.

You can almost guess from the illustrations which garments need a French lining: if you think, “That dress defies gravity! How can that be possible?” or “How did she get into that?” you are probably looking at a dress that has a French lining.

Fashion Plate, 1888-1889 from Metropolitan Museum Costume Plate collection. Below the wrapped outer bodice is a concealed side-front closing.

There are no visible openings on these late 1880’s dresses. Met Museum collection.

They definitely did not have a zipper down the back! A tight fit in back and a concealed opening usually means a French lining; you can probably deduce the rest….

Vintage garment with very full front. The lace was accented with large French knots. It does not have a visible opening in front or in back.

Butterick 3816, Delineator, May 1910.

Butterick 3816, May 1910. The gathers are stitched to the lining; they won’t slide around or come untucked, and the V’s in back and front will never gape.

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Filed under 1870s to 1900s fashions, 1900s to 1920s, 1910s and WW I era, 1920s, Costumes for the 19th century, Dresses, Edwardian fashions, Late Victorian fashions, Resources for Costumers, Tricks of the Costumer's Trade, Vintage Garments: The Real Thing, Vintage patterns

Found Online, October 2018

Cover of Delineator magazine, June, 1914. The illustrator is Neysa McMein.

First, a new site for reading vintage magazines; next, a 1969 comic book about sewing classes for girls.

The Hathi Trust (working with Google) has been digitizing and posting vintage magazines, including Delineator, as soon as they fall out of copyright in the U.S.  The Hathi Trust is up to 1922 now. That’s the good news.

You can flip through the magazines (select the two page layout from the icons at the far right) until something catches your eye. You can download pages or more as Pdfs. Some pages are in color.

Niggling details: The quality of the scans is very variable, sometimes overexposed, sometimes with blurry text.

We can’t expect perfection on every page — I feel lucky the pages are there at all.

Bound copies of Delineator. The larger one is from 1920; the smaller format is from 1922. These are the bound magazines in my public library which I use for research.

Before 1921-22, Delineator was a large format magazine, 16 inches high, often with tiny, serif fonts that are hard to read even when I’m holding the original magazine in my hands, and even harder to photograph because the font is thin and low contrast.

I took this full page photo at a very high resolution from the March 1910 Delineator at my public library.This photo gives a fair idea of how hard to read the original is.

If you look at the same page on the Hathi Trust, at least you can magnify it greatly.

I sympathize with how challenging it is to get these resources online at all.

The Hathi Trust digitizes materials from the libraries of member universities. They are bound volumes, usually containing January through June or July through December, so they are cataloged as one book rather than six issues. You may need a little patience to find what you want, although the text of each volume is searchable, which is very convenient. In 1910, Delineator numbered all the pages in a volume sequentially, so that January began with page numbers in the single digits and June reached the 400s. That’s not hard to navigate.

By 1914, (I don’t have the intervening years yet) each issue began with page 1 — which means you have to search for February, March, April, etc., and the “go to page” function only works within one issue at a time — not the whole volume. Tip: just to the right of the “GO” button is an icon for “sections” of the volume. You can figure out when a new “section” begins — i.e., a new month.

Getting the right exposure for an entire page with images and text isn’t easy. Image from Hathi Trust and Google.

Two images of the same cape from Delineator, April 1920, from Hathi Trust and Google. I printed them, scanned them, and adjusted them.

I have successfully downloaded images from the Hathi trust site, printed them, scanned them and used them in this blog — and I now can search for patterns by number (the same pattern often appears more than once, illustrated in different views.) I used this search function for the capes I wrote about recently. I had only photographed the alternate view of cape 2319; I found the other views on Hathi Trust.

[EDIT 2/5/19: One shouldn’t look a gift online magazine source in the mouth, but I am finding that the color fashion pages have often been excised from the Delineator issues Google photographed,  sometimes without anyone noticing that the pages are missing. Exactly the same problem occurred years ago when many libraries replaced their bound periodicals with microfilm: the companies that photographed (and destroyed) the originals they worked from decided to describe a magazine with 90% of its original content to be “complete.” And librarians bought it — microfilms — and discarded magazines that could have supplied the missing content.  At least Hathi does sometimes photograph journals from more than one source. Nevertheless, I’m now prioritizing color pages from Delineator when I take photos for my own use.]

“How To” Lessons in Delineator:

Just in: Delineator ran a series of articles on dressmaking and millinery making. For example, in 1910, Delineator Vol. 75, page 241 (and following pages) illustrates and describes the steps for making a Spring hat — from the wire frame to the finished hat. Click here. (There are more milinery lessons in 1910.) A search of 1909 (Vol. 74) will turn up more hat-making instructions. Other issues simply describe the newest hats and show photographs of them…. Like these gravity defying hats from 1905, Vol. 66.

To find more, search for Delineator and the year (e.g. “Delineator 1907”;) then narrow the list by selecting “Journals” from the column at left.

I have been so absorbed in Delineator that I’ve just begun to see what other magazines are available.  Godey’s Lady Magazine for 1832 is there. Frank Leslie’s Ladies’ Magazine is there. Who knows what wonders you may find at Hathi Trust? I’ve added it to my sidebar list of Sites with Great Information,

Today’s second find is from a British site, The House of Mirelle, in Hull, England. It shares a glimpse of a comic book series aimed at teenaged girls in the sixties.

Bunty image from House of Mirelle article; image copyright D.C.Thompson. Please do not copy.

The 1969 Bunty Annual about Sewing Classes for Girls post will be nostalgic for some of us.

“The House of Mirelle was a high end fashion house that existed in the UK city of Hull between 1938 and 1978.” The website archives materials from these glory days of a thriving Hull city center.

Perfectionist sewing teachers probably caused a lot of tears over the years. San Francisco artist Dolores R. Gray has done a series of works using old sewing patterns and mannequins in remarkable ways. She told me there were uncut threads dangling from this one because, when she finished a dress she was really proud of, the only thing her teacher noticed was one uncut thread.

How perfect that the Bunty story was about a girl who really wanted to be an artist!

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Filed under 1900s to 1920s, 1910s and WW I era, 1920s, Hats, Musings, Old Advertisements & Popular Culture, Resources for Costumers, World War I