Category Archives: Vintage Accessories

Flared Skirts Appear: 1925 – 1926

Center and right: skirts with a flare, from January 1926, Delineator.

Browsing through Butterick patterns in Delineator, I don’t find very many skirts made with a circular flare — rather than fullness from gathers or pleats — before mid-1925.  That’s not to say that designers didn’t show them, or that there were none….

Poiret had a great success with his tunic dresses in 1914; he tried them again in 1924:

Poiret tried to revive his “minaret” look in early 1924. Delineator, February 1924.

Other designers were also introducing the circular flare in 1924:

Coat by Lanvin, Delineator, April 1924. “Lanvin’s love of fullness shows itself in the cut and sewing of the circular flare.”

Butterick dress pattern 5006 has a circular flounce at the bottom. Delineator, February 1924.

But, until fall of 1925,  the strongly vertical line is seen on many more patterns.

A page of Butterick patterns from June 1924. Delineator, p. 31.

The following summer, this 1925 Butterick skirt was notable because of its “new” (very slight) flare, front and back.

Butterick “flare skirt” 5991 is “new and smart;”from Delineator, May 1925. For sizes 35 to 52″ hip.

Here is a range of Butterick styles for young women from the previous summer (1924):

Patterns for young women, Delineator, June 1924.

There are some real changes by September 1925:

Butterick 6345 for young women has the new flared [and shorter] skirt; Delineator, September 1925. p. 27.

More Butterick dress patterns with flared skirts appeared in mid-to-late 1925, and by 1926 they were easy to find.

Butterick patterns from January, 1926; Delineator magazine, page 25. “Style starts the new year in flared and plaited silhouettes.” [The dress in the center may be inspired by  Vionnet.]

Number 6537 (far right) has a flared skirt in back, but not in front. Delineator, January 1926, page 25. No. 6539 has a flared overskirt that is the same on back and front.

The back views from January 1926 show that the flare was not necessarily the same on the front and back of a dress. Many earlier 1920s’ patterns said “plain back” or “one-piece back,” even when the front was pleated or flared:

The flare of this Butterick dress from December 1924 stops at the side seams; the back is plain.

Two new, flared dresses from Delineator, October 1925, p. 26. Both have “circular cut” skirts.

The flare also appeared in dresses for adult women.

Flared dresses for women were longer than those for teens and small women. Delineator, October 1925.

These are from January 1926:

More flared frocks from January 1926. Butterick’s Delineator magazine, page 24. From left, Butterick 6559, 6553, 6567, and 6569, which has a side drape or “flying panel” instead of a flared skirt.

The flared skirts now have as much fullness in back as in front:

Back views of Butterick patterns, Delineator, page 24. January 1926.

Butterick frocks 6529 (left) and 6511 (center) show the new flared skirts. Delineator, January 1926, p. 29. The skirts of 6529 (left) and 6509 (right) are similar, except that one is flared and one is straight.

Delineator, January 1926, page 29. When fashion “widens the hem, she shortens the skirt….”

“The straight frocks of last year can often be converted to new lines by means of godets, circular flounces, inserted plaits [pleats], flying panels, etc.  The vogue of two materials, two colors, or two shades of the same color makes reconstruction possible and practical.”

Skirt godets in contrasting colors can be seen on this flared dress pattern from November 1925. Butterick 6354.

If women needed ways to update their straight skirts into flared skirts in 1926, I think we can say flared skirts were a trend, although skirts were also made more “walkable” with pleats and other devices.

Three silhouettes from January 1926: a straight princess line dress with pleats, a dress with side pleats, and a dress with a flared skirt. Young women’s styles from Delineator.

Flared skirts for teens and small women; Butterick 6536, 6545, and 6523. Delineator, January 1926.

Below:part of the difference between the bolero dress for teens (6565) and the bolero dress for women (6495) is in the proportions of the fashion illustrations, rather than the clothes.

Butterick “dress and bolero” 6565 and 6495, both from Delineator, January 1926.

The outfit on the left is for teens (15 to 20) and small [short] women.  The neck to hem measurement on patterns for women 15 to 20 was shorter than for adults, but the figure on the right is very elongated. When drawing realistic figures, the distance from the top of the head to the waist is roughly “three heads” (using top of head to chin as a unit of measurement.) If the woman on the right were a real women, her waist would be about where her collar streamers tie.  The “realistic” distance from top of head to hip joint is usually “four heads.” But a “fashion figure” may be as much as eleven “heads” high. Even runway models can’t match that! No wonder we always fall short of the ideals….

 

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Filed under 1920s, Coats, Vintage Accessories, Vintage Couture Designs

Teen Dresses from November 1925 in Color

Butterick dresses for teens and small women; Delineator, November 1925.

It’s easy to generalize about the Twenties, but every once in a while I encounter a dress that is undeniably “Twenties” but also defies the clichés.

I like all three of these dresses (and, if you dread wearing those 1920’s hip bands, these are for you!) But the one in the center, with its piped and slashed tunic, has really charmed me.

Black tunic dress 6381 has a muted pink collar, white piping, and an unexpected side slit.

The tunic is very long, revealing just a couple of inches of skirt — which has white trim to continue the lines of trim on the tunic.

The brown velvet dress at right is also unbroken by any belt, and its lean lines are accentuated by a long, soft drape. The sleeves have openings bound with what appears to be lighter brown satin. Perhaps the neckline has openings, too. The sleeves continue to the neckline in a sort of yoke effect.

The green dress is also unusual:

Butterick 6385 suggests a coat over a lighter-colored under dress, but judging from the hem, it’s probably one piece.

I doubt that it would fall so perfectly straight on a normal female body. My guess is that the CF opening is bound with self-fabric, but it could be two lines of stitching instead.

Detail of center front, Butterick 6385, Nov. 1925.

On the same page of Delineator were these evening dresses for young women:

Three evening dresses for young women and teens, Delineator, November 1925.

The yellow dress, Butterick 6330, also avoids having a hip-band or sash. It is not a princess-seamed dress; it has a small bust dart or easing in the side seam. (It’s essentially a tube with a circular flounce added, but getting the flounce to fall as illustrated would take some patterning skill.)

A closer look at Butterick 6330, 6328, and 6383, dresses from the winter of 1925.

The center dress may be a two-piece (I think I see a camisole top with narrow straps showing through the tomato-red georgette bodice.) This would be a great dress for dancing the Charleston –imagine all those skirt panels flying! The light triangles give a touch of Art Deco and a sporty quality.

Detail of skirts; Butterick 6328, left, and 6383, right.  Delineator, November 1925. Notice the picot edges on the green panels.

It’s possible that the green panels are matching-colored chiffon on top of a narrow skirt, rather than inserted into it.

In January 1926, Delineator suggested that last year’s straight skirts could be made to appear more stylishly flared by adding “godets, circular flounces, inserted [pleats,] flying panels, etc.”The vogue of two materials, two colors or two shades of the same color makes reconstruction possible and practical.”

This rosy-red dress has gathered flying panels of a different material in a slightly different shade:

Butterick dress with flying panels, Delineator, January 1926.

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Butterick Fashions for April 1920

Ninety-nine years ago, women might have been dreaming about wearing these dresses:

April fashions from Delineator, [EDIT s/b 1920!] 1914.

Butterick patterns from Delineator, April 1920, page 151.

Here they are in detail, in no particular order:

Butterick 2250, with bolero jacket; illustrated in Delineator, April 1920, page 151.

The word “vestee” is used rather loosely.  Other Butterick patterns from this year, in the collection of CoPA, have a line on the bodice pattern for cutting the “suspender top vestee.” I would guess that this dress has a side seam opening, closed with snaps, or hooks and bars. (A hook and bar at the waist is always a good idea!) The bolero jacket has an interesting back; close-fitting sleeves, trimmed with many buttons, are an option. Butterick 2250, April 1920.

Two-piece outfit: Butterick waist (bodice) 2265 with pleated skirt 2170. Delineator, April 1920, p. 151.

Alternate views of Butterick 2265 and 2170. Longer sleeves and/or a collar were optional.

Butterick 2229 has decorative buttons running along the outside of the sleeves and the skirt. Delineator, April 1920, p. 151.

Butterick 2272 from Delineator, April 1920, p. 151. It has bust darts at the shoulders.

Butterick also sold embroidery patterns.

Butterick 2241 from Delineator, April 1920. This combines a tunic top with the peg-top look of previous years.

The handbag pattern is Butterick 10810. That hat is rather wonderful and would be easy to duplicate.

Butterick 2264 from Delineator, April 1920, p. 15.

Note the tassel — probably one end of the rope belt.

The skirts of No. 2272 and 2229 stick out from the body in a similar way.

Although perfectly authentic, these styles might be better suited to comedy (or comic characters) than to serious plays. We always have to consider audience expectations — and that includes changing ideas of beauty.

Of these six designs from April 1920, I know which I would rather wear!

Butterick 2250, with bolero jacket; illustrated in Delineator, April 1920, page 151.

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In the Swim, 1910

The bloomers/under-layer and pattern variations for Butterick bathing-suit 3812; Delineator, May 1910.

Bathing suit patterns appeared in Butterick’s Delineator magazine in both May and June, so there are many images to share.

Butterick bathing suit patterns 3788, 3812, and 3839, from Delineator, May 1910, page 409.

Here, the central suit, 3812, has simple checked trim to match its pleated skirt…

Butterick bathing-suit 3812 has princess seams, a pleated skirt attached to the scalloped top, and is worn over a bodice with attached bloomers. 1910.

… but the alternate views show it with optional embroidery or soutache braid trim, or looking like a double breasted coat. The under layer also shows square, rounded, or high neckline variations as dotted lines:

The under-layer and two more “looks” for bathing suit 3812. 1910.

“Princess effect… exceptionally graceful model … the short sleeves …are more practical for the swimmer.” [No kidding!] Apparently the bloomers alone could be made from 2 yards of 36 inch material, with another 7/8 yard of a different material for the under-body/under bodice.

These four 1910 patterns include a skirt over bloomers with a bodice, and dresses over bloomers, with or without an under-bodice.

Bathing suit 3788 is gathered to a yoke.

Butterick 3788, a bathing suit from Delineator, May 1910,  p. 409.

Butterick 3788 is a separate skirt worn over a bodice with bloomers attached. May 1910. “Absolute comfort….”

The bloomers for Butterick 3839 are not attached to a bodice — they have their own waistband.

Butterick bathing-suit 3839 from Delineator, May 1910. The side closing gives “the popular Russian effect.”

Butterick 3839 is a dress over separate bloomers. Delineator, May 1910. The pleats on the skirt are top-stitched.

In June, Delineator showed a fourth bathing-suit for women (3925) and a bathing suit for men or boys (3870.) Men got to wear a lot less, while women who actually tried to swim were in danger of sinking under the weight of all that fabric.

Butterick bathing suit 3925 from Delineator, June 1910, p. 521. It was worn with bloomers, rolled stockings, and beach shoes tied like ballet slippers.

At right, you can see the bloomers peeking out from under the skirt of Butterick 3925. June, 1910. According to Delineator, American women preferred the bare-necked version of the sailor collar.

“This is the kind of bathing-suit (3925) which will appeal to a great many women, both those who go into the water for the real sport of the thing, and those who spend hours on the beach sitting around or promenading up and down…. The cord or belt which is fastened around the waist gives the effect of a blouse and short skirt…. Our English cousins favor the long sleeve and high neck when in bathing and so use the shield with the high collar. Here in America, however, women usually prefer a slightly open neck and either puff sleeves or just sleeve caps. The separate bloomers are arranged to be made with bands or elastics at the lower part. Flannel [i.e., wool flannel,] mohair, serge and taffeta are the best material for bathing suits….” [Butterick patterns were also sold in England.]

Men, on the other hand, wore one layer of fabric and no sleeves:

Butterick 3870, a bathing suit pattern in either men’s or boys’ sizes. Delineator, June 1910, page 516.

The CF placket closing would hide buttons, not a zipper. The fabric could be flannel (nice, water-absorbing wool) or “Stockinget [sic]” or serge. A wet, knit suit with no lining would be quite revealing when wet. Men and boys had long been accustomed to swimming in the nude, so this simple, often sleeveless bathing suit was a concession to mixed bathing.

Swimming was first included in the Olympics in 1896, but has only been open to women since 1912.” Think about competitive swimming in a water-logged wool swimsuit! (Kind of like swimming in a cardigan sweater….) What’s that saying about “everything a woman does must be done twice as well…?”

The Vintage Traveler is making a Timeline of Bathing Suits. Click here. (And try to imagine just staying afloat in those Victorian ones!)

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Filed under 1900s to 1920s, 1910s and WW I era, Bathing Suits, Boys' Clothing, Children's Vintage styles, Edwardian fashions, Hats, Hosiery, Hosiery, Men's Sportswear, Menswear, Sportswear, Swimsuits, Women in Trousers

April 1914: Pygmalion Costumes and Stories

Most people know the play Pygmalion in its musical comedy version, My Fair Lady.

From the jacket of Huggett’s book, The Truth About Pygmalion. Left, Sir Herbert Beerbom Tree as Henry Higgins; Right, Mrs. Patrick Campbell as Eliza Doolittle.

George Bernard Shaw’s play Pygmalion first opened in London in April, 1914. There are lots of photos of this production and of the original costumes.

1914 photos of Mrs. Pat as Eliza Doolittle. She was wearing the costume on the right (in Act III) when Eliza shocked London by uttering the phrase, “not bloody likely!”

Contemporary cartoons show Eliza wearing a feathered hat more like this one with that printed suit from Act III. Delineator, January 1914

Shaw directed the play himself; the stars were Herbert Beerbohm Tree (a successful actor-producer who owned the theatre where Pygmalion opened,) and Mrs. Patrick Campbell, known as “Mrs. Pat” (or, to Shaw, who was attracted to her, “Stella.”) A very entertaining account of this production is The Truth About Pygmalion, by Richard Huggett. Three massive egos were at work; at 49, the leading lady was much too old to be playing young Eliza Doolittle, which led to insecurity and bad temper; as Henry Higgins, Beerbom Tree hadn’t mastered his lines, so he pinned notes to the backs of furniture all over the set; and since both Shaw and Mrs. Pat were famous wits, the pre-production discussions and rehearsals were rather amusing [if you weren’t involved!] This 2004 article cites some of the backstage details (but does not mention Huggett’s book.) For example, Tree (and audiences ever since) expected a romantic ending for Eliza and Higgins. Shaw, writer and director, was adamant that his play did not end that way.

As Samantha Ellis wrote in The Guardian: ‘…Shaw returned for the play’s 100th performance, but was horrified to find that Tree had changed the ending; Higgins now threw Eliza a bouquet as the curtain fell, presaging their marriage. Now that [Shaw’s] affair with Campbell was over, the romantic ending was particularly galling. “My ending makes money; you ought to be grateful,” scrawled Tree. “Your ending is damnable; you ought to be shot,” snarled Shaw.’ ***

At a time when Shaw and Tree were barely speaking, Shaw sent him a long letter filled with directorial suggestions. Tree wrote, “I will not go so far as to say that all people who write letters of more than eight pages are mad, but it is a curious fact that all madmen write letters of more than eight pages.”  Tree was not a bystander in the battle of wits.

Act III, making small-talk: Eliza (carefully pronouncing her ‘aitches’) is telling Mrs. Eynesford-Hill (left) and her daughter (right) about her suspicions that her gin-drinking aunt was “done in.”

In 2014, a century after that first night, the Guardian newspaper ran a 100th anniversary article showing photos from many productions. Click here. This photo is from the original 1914 production; it’s interesting because Shaw specified that Eliza is wearing a Japanese kimono when her father comes to call. (He’s actually hoping to extort money from Professor Higgins.) Her appearance in a kimono leads her father to assume that she is Higgins’ mistress. The shocking, undressed, quality of Mrs. Patrick Campbell’s luxurious  brocade costume is not obvious from the script:

Shaw wrote:

[(Doolittle) hurries to the door, anxious to get away with his booty. When he opens it he is confronted with a dainty and exquisitely clean young Japanese lady in a simple blue cotton kimono printed cunningly with small white jasmine blossoms. Mrs. Pearce is with her. He gets out of her way deferentially and apologizes]. Beg pardon, miss.

THE JAPANESE LADY. Garn! Don’t you know your own daughter?

DOOLITTLE [exclaiming] Bly me! it’s Eliza!

The photo shows that Mrs. Pat’s costume was not quite the prim cotton kimono which Shaw described!

Two original color sketches for Mrs. Pat’s Eliza Doolittle costumes are in the collection of the V&A museum. They were made by/designed by Elizabeth Handley Seymour. Click here for a color sketch of that Act III [yellow] suit, and here for Eliza’s Act V costume, adapted from a design by Poiret.) 

Photographs of Eliza’s first “flower girl” costume could be purchased by fans; this is a costume from later in the play.

Eliza’s evening gown is suggested in this sketch:

Eliza, in evening dress, throws a slipper at Higgins. In rehearsal, Mrs. Pat accidentally hit him. Tree had forgotten she would throw a slipper at him, and burst into tears.

Butterick evening costume made from waist (bodice) 6688 and skirt 6689. Delineator, Feb. 1914.

If you are interested in the long relationship between Shaw and Mrs. Pat, a “two-hander” play called Dear Liar, by Jerome Kilty, is based upon the letters exchanged by George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Pat at the time when he was in love with her, and for decades after.  (She had surprised him painfully by getting married to someone else two nights before Pygmalion opened.)  There is a good review of a 1981 Hallmark TV production here.

There are many anecdotes about Mrs. Pat; when she was young, beautiful, and at the height of her success, a playwright who wanted her to appear in his next production made the mistake of insisting that he read his entire script aloud to her. He had not lost all the traces of his Cockney accent. Mrs Pat listened for over two hours. When he finished and asked her opinion of the play, she said, “It’s very long… even without the ‘aitches.’ ”

When she was old and broke, she was devoted to her pet dogs, which she carried everywhere with her. When one of them left a mess on the floor of a taxi, she assumed her most impressive demeanor and said, in a voice that had once thrilled thousands, “It was me!

Sexually liberated, she is credited with saying (about a notorious divorce case,) “It doesn’t matter what you do [in the bedroom] as long as you don’t do it in the street and frighten the horses.”  When asked why she married George Cornwallis-West in 1914, she said, “He’s six foot four — and everything in proportion.” There is plenty of entertaining reading about Shaw, Beerbom Tree, and Mrs. Patrick Campbell.

Eliza Doolittle sold bunches of violets, like this one. Delineator, 1914.

Many people only know the musical adaptation of this play, My Fair Lady by Lerner and Lowe, which was made into a movie with famous costume designs by Cecil Beaton. Beaton was inspired by the “black Ascot” of 1910, when all of high society wore black or white in mourning for King Edward VII. (This also allowed Beaton to avoid the wide-hipped gowns of 1914.) In fact, Shaw finished his original script of Pygmalion in 1911, so setting the play (or musical) a few years earlier than 1914 is perfectly logical. In 1914 it had to look fashionably up-to-date. That’s not a problem any more!

In case you are costuming either the straight play or musical version, I’ll share some inspiration from 1914, although you may prefer the styles of 1910…. It’s up to you (and the director….)

Two outfits from January, 1914. Butterick patterns from Delineator.

One of Mrs. Pat’s Pygmalion costumes had a dark mid-section rather like this one:

The dark “sash” at the waist would flatter a portly figure like Mrs. Pat’s. Butterick coat 667 with skirt 6664, February 1914.

A range of styles from March 1914; National Catalog. (The skirt on the green one? Arrrrgh!)

Below are real fashion photos from 1914. They may make you think twice about those 1914 silhouettes….

French couture fashions in Delineator, April 1914.

Dresses from 1910 are curvy — but perhaps a little stodgy…. On the other hand, those 1910 white lingerie dresses would be quite a transformation for Eliza.

Left, a lingerie dress. Butterick princess gowns “appropriate for dressy wear.” Delineator, January 1910.

1910 gowns and a suit from the National Cloak Co. catalog.

The two on the left could be Mrs. Eynesford-Hill and her daughter. Mrs. Higgins also has to show mature elegance. Butterick patterns, 1910.

In the 1992 production at London’s National Theatre (RNT,) Mrs. Higgins wore a marvelous, artsy teagown that epitomized the “Liberty” fashion reform/Arts and Crafts look (– the equivalent of being a “hippie” in the 1880s.) It made perfect sense that she could have accidentally raised a self-centered man-child like Henry Higgins. (Designer: William Dudley.) As Higgins, Alan Howard flew into tantrums like an overgrown 2-year-old. Very funny. Sadly, I can’t find that photo today.

Perhaps it’s just her pose that looks so self-assured. January 1910. Eliza could wear that skirt with a simple blouse in Act II.

This lace-trimmed ensemble is from a fabric ad: Himalaya cloth from Butterfield & Co. February 1910. Is that Eliza’s facial expression — asserting her independence — from Act V?

*** Once a play opens, the director moves on to other jobs and the stage manager is left to make sure every audience sees the same play that opening night critics saw. Probably my favorite story about the propensity of actors to “improve” the production as time goes by is: After a few weeks, the director returned to watch the play, standing quietly behind the audience. The leading man had expanded his role considerably. At intermission he received a telegram from the director: “Am watching the play from the back of the house STOP Wish you were here.”

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Filed under 1900s to 1920s, 1910s and WW I era, A Costumers' Bookshelf, Hats, Menswear, Vintage Garments: The Real Thing, vintage photographs, Vintage Styles in Larger Sizes, World War I

April 1928 Ad for Belding’s Silks

Part of an ad for Belding’s “Pure Dye” Silks, Delineator, April 1928.

I don’t have a picture of the entire page, but this ad interested me because it shows dress patterns from several companies:  Vogue, McCall, Butterick and Pictorial Review. It also shows a range of women’s styles for 1928, and it shows the cost of the fabric to make them.

Belding’s “Pure Dye” silk was not weighted “or in any way adulterated” to make it seem more substantial than it was. In other words, this was not the cheapest silk fabric available. In fact, at $3 to $6+ per yard, it was relatively expensive.***

(The Belding Brothers of Michigan established a successful business manufacturing silk thread and silk fabrics, with factories in four states.  They also built housing to attract the best female employees, as well as libraries and a hospital for their workers. “Belding Brothers & Company merged with Heminway Silk Company in 1925 and did business as Belding-Heminway. Soon after, the company was acquired by Corticelli Silk Company and did business as Belding-Heminway-Corticelli. The last mill in Belding closed in 1932.” This 1928 ad also mentions Belding’s silk stockings.

Butterick 1904 was featured in the ad; here it is shown in striped silk.

The Butterick Publishing Co. illustrated it in a different fabric in Delineator magazine:

Butterick 1904 made in dotted fabric. Delineator, June 1928. a “frock for mornings or sports” in sizes from 32 to 48 inch bust.

McCall pattern 5168 in Belding’s Silk ad, Delineator, April 1928. This 100% “radium weave” pure silk was washable “Vanette.”

(“Radium silk” was not radioactive.)

Butterick pattern 1906, Belding’s Silk Ad; Delineator, April 1928. “Simple crepe frocks like this have a smartness that belies their small price.” This is made of Belding’s Crepe Iris, “guaranteed washable crepe.”

This Art Deco (or Moderne) dress doesn’t strike me as especially “simple” to make; I love its geometry (“plaits in an architectural outline,”) but I’d be tempted to hire a “little dressmaker” to deal with all those interlocking pieces.

Butterick’s own illustration of dress 1906, from Delineator, March 1928.

This dress is more formal, with a jeweled “buckle” centered on the hip yoke, and a draped neckline.

Another McCall pattern, 5157. Belding’s Silk ad, Delineator, April 1928. This afternoon frock was made in Belding’s “Satin Ciree.”

Top center in the ad was this jacket and dress combination made from Vogue patterns. The plaid dress is topped with a plaid scarf — not an easy combo to bring off well!

Vogue jacket 9273 is combined with Vogue dress 9261. Belding’s ad, April 1928. The “sport silk” fabrics are “Washable Broadcloth” and “Crepe Cashmere” for the jacket — “heavy enough to tailor crisply.”

Pictorial Review pattern 4229, Belding’s ad, Delineator, April 1928. The asymmetrical dress has a soft jabot/drape running down the bodice.

The relatively simple dress is made of Belding’s silk printed crepe “in a distinctive modern design — a summery pattern suggesting the lovely modernism of Paris.” (The “Style Moderne,” which we also call “Art Deco,” was introduced at the Paris Expo of 1925  (Exposition internationale des arts décoratifs et industriels modernes)

This classic 1920’s evening dress is Vogue pattern S 3191.

It is sleeveless, with low armholes; a surplice closing (thought to be slenderizing;) an under layer seen at the neck opening; and a big bow forming a side drape. At first I thought it had a (very unexpected) short sleeve, but a close view shows that the model is wearing an arm bracelet, along with two necklaces and very long dangling earrings.

Detail of jewelry in the Belding’s ad illustration. 1928. Note the low armhole.

The next gown is surprisingly bare:

Pictorial review pattern 4159 is an evening dress made in sheer silk Georgette. Belding’s ad, Delineator, April 1928.

This gown is notable for its narrow jeweled straps and its asymmetric shoulder (or neck) line.

A woman really could not wear much underwear under this dress — just knickers and stockings. (And maybe a girdle….)

Details of the diagonal neckline and shoulder straps of Pictorial Review evening pattern 4159.

Georgette is usually a sheer fabric, so this dress is probably built over a straight, opaque silk lining, which would also support the blousing and hip decoration. That neckline would still be worth copying, if you have the figure for it!

*** The Sears catalog (Fall 1928) offered washable silk satin yardage for 74 cents a yard.

Washable silk satin from Sears, 1928.

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Filed under 1920s, 1920s-1930s, evening and afternoon clothes, Hosiery, Hosiery, Jewelry, Old Advertisements & Popular Culture, Sportswear, Vintage patterns, Vintage Styles in Larger Sizes

1929 and 1930 Side by Side

Two very similar suit patterns illustrate the big change in fashion between late 1929 and 1930. Both images from Delineator magazines.

I was struck by the similarity — and the difference — between these two Butterick patterns, issued in 1929 and 1930. Both have bolero jackets, which stop above the “waist” of the suit. Both have blouses with a line of buttons down the front, prim collars, deep cuffs, and are accented with frills. Both have a girdle around the hips. Both are shown in print fabrics. Both are worn with cloche hats.

But…. the return to the natural waist has completely changed the proportions that look “right.”

1929 bolero suit with dropped waist: Butterick 2576, Delineator, April 1929.

1930 bolero suit with natural waist: Butterick 3378; Delineator, August 1930.

Side by side again:

Delineator published these illustrations less than a year and a half apart.

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Filed under 1920s-1930s, Dating Butterick Patterns, Hats