Category Archives: Hats

Fashion Advice for Summer, 1933 (Part 1)

Five tips for summer fashions from June 1933. Left is Butterick 5149. Delineator, page 61.

I seem to be spending a lot of time in 1933 lately. Marian Corey, writing in Delineator, June 1933, offered a full page of advice about summer fashions:  Five ideas starting with “Yes” and five with “No.”

As the really hot weather approaches, here’s one topic Corey thought we all have on our minds: Gloves!

Glove advice from Delineator, June 1933.

“… Gloves of all sorts of queer fabrics. Printed silk gloves to match your frock and sometimes sold with the dress! White organdy gloves to wear with your dark dress that has white organdy touches on it. White piqué gloves to wear with your tailored suit. Lastex gloves. Fit? They don’t have to . It’s smart to wear them big.” (Lastex stretch fabrics were introduced in the early 1930s — which is different from Latex, which was sometimes used for rubber bathing suits!)

Matching print fabric gloves, hat and bag — all made from Butterick patterns. Delineator, August 1933, p. 52.

Organdy gloves and handbag, “to wear with your dark dress that has organdy touches on it.” August 1933, Delineator, p. 52.

Three Butterick dresses with organdy accents, Delineator, June 1933, p. 64. Notice the sheer areas in the sleeves. 5186 used a heavier, stiffer organdy.

It should be noted that fashion advice from Delineator magazine — not coincidentally –often mentioned Butterick patterns. Delineator was part of the Butterick Publishing Co. empire.

White piqué hat (Butterick 5256,) gloves (Butterick 5225,) and bag (Butterick 5274.) Delineator, August 1933.

Maybe Ms. Corey mentioned that gloves no longer needed to fit [“like a glove?”] because making gloves is difficult. Store-bought gloves used to come in a wide range of sizes, not just S, M, and L. Here’s what she said in a longer article:  “…Don’t worry if your gloves do not fit closely. They are not supposed to.”

Glove advice from Marian Corey, Delineator, August 1933.

Butterick glove pattern 5225 from July 1933, Delineator. This pattern was featured in both July and August.

“At first the loosely fitting glove seems clumsy…. All are worn big.” The gloves worn with these summer dresses are more like gauntlets:

Dresses worn with gloves made from Butterick 5225, July 1933. Delineator.

Gloves and a bag made from taffeta; Butterick patterns, August 1933.

More accessories made of piqué ; Butterick patterns from Delineator, August, 1933, p. 52. The illustrator is Myrtle Lages.

OK, I confess, the “No” paragraph about gloves was not really the first paragraph of the article about Summer fashions. The first paragraph was a “Yes” — about fur!

“Silver fox and blue fox are the furs” for trimming summer dresses,” or rabbit if your budget is more modest. Delineator, June 1933.

Butterick summer outfits trimmed with fur: From left, patterns 5176, 5178, and 5168. Delineator, June 1933, page 62.

Another “Yes” for summer was the white piqué swagger coat:

Butterick coat pattern 5164 from June 1933.

Everyone who owns a dark printed silk dress… should have a white piqué swagger coat to wear with it.” Butterick 5164; Delineator, June 1933, p. 62.

This style was only available in smaller sizes — an early use of “Junior Miss” patterns.

So, fur and gloves aside, what more practical fashions for summer were recommended in 1933?

Bicycle clothes, tennis dresses, beach pajamas, slacks and shorts — all coming up in Part 2.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under 1930s, Accessory Patterns, bags, Gloves, handbags, Hats, Purses, Vintage Accessories

Ollie

Can a dress change a life? Probably not, unless you’re Cinderella. But a dress can mark a turning point in your life…. I inherited many photos of a young woman named Ollie Cornelius. Often, there is an air of sadness about her.

Studio portrait of Ollie Cornelius, taken in Colusa, CA.

I’ve been trying to find out more about her from an ancestry site, with limited success. Ollie Cornelius and my mother became friends as young teenagers, and they were still writing to each other in 1950.

Ollie, left, and my mother, right (with ukelele) in a school playground, Redwood City, CA, circa 1918.

Ollie posing in a schoolyard. She is wearing a corduroy jacket over her school uniform. Circa 1918.

Young Ollie on a bench in Redwood City, CA. Although posing for a friend, she doesn’t look happy.

Ollie looks sad in the next photo because, having made friends in a new city — Redwood City, California — she was uprooted when her family moved again, to Colusa, 148 miles away.

Ollie in Colusa, CA, about 1919.

On the back she wrote, “When I had this picture taken I was thinking of Redwood City [That’s] why I look so sad.”

Today friends exchange photos instantly; then, people also kept in touch by mailing photographs back and forth. Luckily for us, these pictures often have writing on the back.

Ollie posing on a bridge, about 1919. This is not a period for flattering fashions…. but she knew how to wear an enormous black tam-o-shanter.

In her later teens, Ollie’s sadness had a more serious cause: she was diagnosed with tuberculosis — the “consumption” that killed so many in Victorian times.

On the back of the bridge photo, Ollie wrote, “This was taken before I was sick.”

Ollie is wearing the same dress in this photo taken at Weimar TB Sanatorium.

Ollie on the steps of her ward at Weimar Joint Sanatorium.

In 1919 there were no antibiotics; the usual treatment for TB was a move to a place with “better air” and complete rest for several months. Obviously, for working class people, quitting work and spending months in a private sanatorium was not an affordable option. Often, they continued working, incidentally spreading infection, until they literally dropped in their tracks.

Another tam-o-shanter. Ollie did not come from a wealthy family.

For a young office clerk like Ollie, TB could be a death sentence. Among men receiving treatment, the mortality rate was 50%.

Ollie and Claude (another TB victim) on the steps at Weimar Sanatorium.

Given America’s current attitude toward healthcare, it’s disconcerting to read that one hundred years ago, public health officials realized that an epidemic of this frequently fatal, contagious disease could only be prevented by treating the poor as well as the wealthy.

The Weimar Joint Sanatorium was created by the State of California and subsidized to give working class people the same chance of recovery as people who could afford private care.

Ollie at Weimar Sanatorium. The back of this photo says, “Where I used to live.” Dated 1919.

Fresh air was considered necessary for TB patients; Ollie is standing by a screened-in sleeping porch — unheated.

Three patients at Weimar; Ollie is on the right. The photo was dated 1919 by my aunt, who received it in the mail.

Ollie made friends with other women in her ward; in spite of their grim situation, they were still young and tried to cheer each other up.

Fellow patient Mrs. Alice Smith with Ollie Cornelius, about 1919.

On early photos, Ollie respectfully called her “Mrs. Smith.” “She was just married above a month,” [when she was diagnosed with TB] Ollie wrote. Apparently, Mr. Smith came to visit, still in his First World War military uniform.

Ollie with Mrs. Smith, who is clowning in her husband’s tunic and hat. “It is her husband’s uniform; her name is Mrs. Alice Smith.” I wonder if he took the photo.

Nevertheless….

Ollie and other young women at Weimar Sanatorium knew they might be facing death.

“…Patients frequently became depressed due to the severity of their infection and the hopelessness of a cure or because of separation from their families. In many cases it was difficult for families to visit either due to the cost of travel or because of the fear of becoming infected themselves. Seeing other patients die was another cause of despair.” — read more.

But a change came for Ollie. Was she really feeling well again? Had her doctors given her hope that she might be able to go home? These pictures of Ollie in a pretty new dress seem to mark a turning point:

Ollie next to her bed on the sleeping porch at Weimar Sanatorium.

Ollie modeling her new dress. Did it come from a catalog? Was it a gift?

Ollie reading in a common dining area. She still has dark circles under her eyes, but this is a different Ollie. She’s happy.

Ollie did recover, at least for many years. Trivial as it sounds, taking an interest in fashion may signal the end of her physical illness and resulting depression.

Ollie in Colusa, CA, about 1920.

Also, her friends had not forgotten her.

Ollie in a chic, sheer-brimmed hat, with my mother. About 1920.

My mother and her friend Ollie, 1920s.

Ollie fell in love:

Ollie and Lloyd Jennings, about 1920.

She got married:

Ollie and her husband. Note her Marcelle-waved hair. 1920s.

Ollie and my mother on a vacation, late 1920s.

Thanks to low-cost care during a public health crisis, Ollie survived TB and returned to active life:

Ollie, second from front, in the snow, circa 1931.

Ollie fashionably dressed (including necktie) for the snow; this photo was printed in February 1931.

Ollie with my Uncle Holt, 1930’s.

How wonderful that she had a future!

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Filed under 1900s to 1920s, 1920s, 1920s-1930s, Hats, Musings, Sportswear, vintage photographs, Women in Trousers, World War I

Shirtwaist Dresses, 1939

Companion-Butterick 8459, a shirtwaist dress, appeared on the cover of Butterick Fashion News, July 1939.

It was featured on the back cover, too, and several other “shirtwaist” dresses appeared in this flyer. The 1939 shirtwaist could be casual or dressy.

If the text didn’t describe this as a “beautifully detailed shirtwaist dress,” I wouldn’t have classified it that way. Companion-Butterick 8459, July 1939.

Companion-Butterick 8459 does not button down the front, and the bodice is not a separate piece. Clever darts created the shape of this easy to make, pull-over style.

Companion-Butterick 8459, from back cover of BFN flyer, July 1939. A zipper in the side seam would allow you to pull the narrow waist over your shoulders.

Butterick 8459 used only four pattern pieces. Back cover, BFN flyer, July 1939.

Butterick shirtwaist dress 8479 uses pocket flaps as belt carriers. July, 1939. [Note the seamed stockings in the back view.]

Butterick 8466 combines a shirtwaist dress with a coordinating jacket. BFN, July 1939.

This dressy shirtwaist is Butterick 8497. BFN, p. 9, July 1939.

Are these shirtwaist dresses?  That’s not how they are described. BFN, p. 4, July 1939.

Center is Butterick 8493:

Right, Companion-Butterick 8483. BFN, July 1939.

Companion-Butterick 8493: “For spectator sports, wear this dress with brisk pleats in the skirt, and a pocket individualized with embroidery.” Sizes 12 to 20, 30 to 44.

I love this two- (or three-) toned dress with a zipper that runs all the way down the front.

Butterick 8470 has a zipper running from neckline to hem, but it isn’t a housedress.

[For more about the popularization of zippers in women’s clothing during the 1930s, read “Zip” Part 1 and/or Part 2. ]

Even fancier is this print dress made from “sheer” fabric:

Butterick 8486 looks like a shirtwaist to me — its bodice opens with buttons to the waist

The shirtwaist dresses that were a staple of my college wardrobe in 1962 were constructed like this; they buttoned down the front, usually to a concealed placket below the waist. (This 1939 version probably has a zipper opening in the side seam.)

Obviously, I can’t define “shirtwaist dress” from the way the Butterick Fashion News flyers use the term…. But I still appreciate their convenience and versatility.

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Filed under 1930s, 1930s-1940s, Companion-Butterick Patterns, Hats, Hosiery, Hosiery, Sportswear, Vintage Accessories, Zippers

French Designer Gowns from May 1927

Evening designs from three famous houses, illustrated for Delineator in May, 1927.

A little guessing game: Can you guess the designers of these three evening gowns illustrated in May, 1927? Hint: Here are some names in alphabetical order; Chanel, Doeuillet, Lanvin, Patou, Vionnet.

Full length images; It’s 1927, and the skirt on the left bares the kneecaps. The dress in the center is a “bolero” fashion.

Answer:

From left, gowns by Vionnet, Lanvin, and Chanel. 1927.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that the simple gown with ingenious twisted fabric is the work of Madeleine Vionnet.

“Vionnet ties white crepe satin into a Gordian knot to give the swathed hip and up in front movement of the new season.” Delineator, May 1927.

The gown by Lanvin is elaborately sequinned, and — surprise — under the sheer skirt, it has knee-length trousers!

Lanvin bolero dress, heavily spangled. Delineator, May 1927.

“Gold and silver spangles outline the bolero in a heavy rope design and trim the bodice of Lanvin’s white crepe version of the Zouave silhouette with lamé trousers.”

The Metropolitan museum collection includes a black evening coat by Lanvin, also from 1927.

A “vanilla color” lace gown by Chanel, shown in Delineator, 1927.

“The square decolletage, fulness [sic] at the hips, and the use of vanilla color lace characterize Chanel’s frock.” It’s also notable for the bow shaped pin.

Pins in the shape of bows were widely copied. A nearly identical Chanel dress with similar joined bands of lace is in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum. (Click to see the additional images. It has a long tunic to be worn over a slip with two more layers of lace, plus a belt.)

These three dresses could be purchased in New York: the Vionnet and Lanvin from Altman, and the Chanel from Lord & Taylor.

Another interesting fact: All three dresses were designed by women at the top of French fashion — Madeleine Vionnet, Jeanne Lanvin, and Gabrielle Chanel.

Also illustrated in the same issue of Delineator were these lovely French gowns:

Fringed and beaded gown by Doueillet; Delineator, May 1927. The fringe is apparently tubes or strips of white chiffon.

A froth of a dress in black net, with pink satin bow. By Patou. Delineator, May 1927.

The Metropolitan museum has a similar (but not identical) 1927 black net dress by Patou.

For formal afternoon wear, Lanvin showed this:

An afternoon dress by Lanvin, seen in Delineator, May 1927. The curves of the embroidered design on the overskirt are echoed in the shape of the yoke. The taffeta sash is crimson.

Black and white organdy with a red sash is dramatic for an afternoon dress. Delineator explained the most popular evening color schemes from Paris:

Text from Delineator‘s fashion coverage, May 1927. Colors of the evening include “lipstick red.”

P.S. I can’t resist a shout out to Glamourdaze’s beautifully illustrated history of 1920’s fashions.

 

 

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Filed under 1920s, evening and afternoon clothes, Hairstyles, Hats, Vintage Accessories, Vintage Couture Designs

Rapid Change in Twenties’ Fashions: 1924 to 1927

Dresses for women; Butterick’s Delineator magazine, March 1924, p 27.

When we speak of “the Twenties,” most of us are picturing the short skirts and dropped waists of the later 1920s:

Two Butterick pattterns for women, March 1927.

But during the immediate post-war Twenties, women’s clothing actually became longer, although less bulky and more revealing of the body under the clothes.

These dresses are from 1918, the year the war ended. One has a slightly dropped waist:

Dresses, skirts and blouses, Butterick patterns in Delineator magazine, July 1918, page 52.

Dresses, skirts and blouses, Butterick patterns in Delineator magazine, July 1918, page 52.

And these — 6 years later — are from 1924:

Butterick patterns for women, Delineator magazine, March 1924, page 27.

A reaction to the trauma of the First World War created “the Lost Generation” as described by Fitzgerald (in The Great Gatsby, published in 1925) and Hemingway (in The Sun Also Rises, published in October 1926.) Both were writing in the post-war period from 1924 to 1926. Fashions from those years may not look like “the Roaring Twenties” as we often imagine them.

Left, a draped dress from March 1927 which looks very “Twenties” to a modern eye; right, a draped dress from March 1924 — just three years earlier. Both are Butterick patterns featured in Delineator.

Which changed first: the fashions, or the women?

Less formal clothing from 1927, left, and from 1924, right. Butterick patterns from Delineator. What a difference three years made!

More fashion contrasts from March 1924 and March 1927:

Butterick patterns for young women, March 1924. Delineator, page 29.

Clothes for young women and teens; Butterick patterns from March 1924. Delineator, page 29.

Clothes for young women and teens were usually a bit shorter than those for mature women, but not nearly as short as these adult styles from just three years later:

Buttterick patterns from Delineator, March 1927, page 22.

Butterick patterns for women, March 1927.

If you want more details about those eight dresses from 1927, click here.

These youthful outfits from 1924 look fussy and rather stodgy, compared to the streamlined styles of 1927.

Butterick patterns for teens and small women, March 1924. Delineator.

Three styles for teens, Butterick March 1927. [The illustration on the left is bizarrely elongated….]

For more about dresses that combined different shades of the same color, click here. For more examples of rapid change in 1920’s fashion, click here.

A coat (1318) and dress (1323) from Butterick patterns, March 1927. Delineator, page 25. They’re like shingled hairstyles: short and sleek.

 

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Filed under 1920s, evening and afternoon clothes, Hats, Musings, Sportswear, Vintage Accessories, World War I

A Trip to Mount Lowe, 1920’s

I found this souvenir group photo of a trip up the Mount Lowe electric railway, apparently taken in the late 1920s.

A group photo of visitors to Echo Mountain, on the Mount Lowe scenic railroad. Late 1920s.

“At the top of the incline was perched Charles Lawrence, the official photographer, on a special scaffold from which he would take pictures of the arriving visitors.[30] For 25 cents, visitors could purchase a souvenir photo of their arrival on the incline car, with everyone else aboard, of course.” — From Wikipedia, which has a thorough history and some excellent images. Click here.

Front cover of Mount Lowe souvenir photo from the late 1920’s.

The scenic railway provided views of Los Angeles, thousands of feet below. Between 1925 and 1936, there was a restaurant/tavern on the summit. (It burned down.)

Inside cover of Mount Lowe photograph. Late 1920’s.

Parts of the rail trip would definitely result in an adrenaline rush: click here.

Of course, what fascinates me are the faces and clothes of this group of ordinary people on holiday — even if it’s just a day trip. Thanks to the magic of computer scanning and photo enlargement, (and the sharpness of Lawrence’s original photo) we can see them in some detail.

I’ve cropped the picture to show just the people. Echo Mountain, Mount Lowe, 1920’s.

I was about to mention that all the women are wearing hats — until I saw one who isn’t: my mother.

Top row, from left, my mother’s mother, her aunt Alice, and, Marcelle-waved but hatless, my mother.  Notice her “bee-stung” lips. The woman in the pale cloche wears a necktie, and so do other women, as you’ll see.

A group from the top right side of the photo. We see several women wearing horn-rimmed glasses, which were replacing glasses with thin gold or silver rims — or no rims at all. The woman at center wears the older stye of glasses.

It’s apparently summer, since many men wear light colored hats or boaters. Women are evenly divided between cloche hats and hats with brims. Love that striped sweater!

The center of the photo. The boy in the front row also wears a lively, patterned sweater.

At the back, we see a boy in a cloth cap (a big one) next to a woman in a turban-like hat; 1920’s printed dress fabrics include the Art Deco one at right. The man’s tie is short, stopping inches above his waist.

Another short necktie, and a pleasant-looking woman wearing horn rim glasses and a ribbon-trimmed dress.

A good sample of hats — and a woman who clearly wore large sized dresses. The striped hat on the right is my favorite — and it’s worn by a mature lady in a print coat.

I like this dignified older couple. (The girl in the middle doesn’t seem to be having a good time.)

The gray-haired woman in the light-colored cloche at lower right must have seen many changes in fashion during her lifetime — and she’s adapted well.

In the front row we can see a variety of hem lengths, depending on age and taste. Late 1920s.

The older woman at left has a long hemline (and I think her slip is showing,) while the mature but stylish woman on the right shows her legs up to the kneecap.

In this group, the woman on the right wears a shorter skirt than the oldest woman pictured above, but not as short as the woman in the Art Deco print dress. The young girl has bare legs and exposed knees. The boy proves that not all great sweater and knicker combinations were reserved for the golf course.

Hope you enjoyed the trip! Visitors to Mount Lowe in the late 1920’s.

A similar crowd photo, found on Flicker, is dated 1922. It includes four young women woman (front row, far left) in hiking trousers and boots. The ruins of the Mount Lowe Railway are a hiking trail today. It is near the city of Altadena, California.

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Filed under 1920s, 1920s-1930s, Children's Vintage styles, Hats, Hats for Men, Men's Haberdashery & Accessories, Menswear, Old Advertisements & Popular Culture, Vintage Accessories, Vintage Garments: The Real Thing, vintage photographs, Vintage Styles in Larger Sizes

Fun in the Snow, 1921

A group of office workers from the Southern Pacific Railroad headquarters in San Francisco on a weekend trip to the snow; taken in Truckee, California, February, 1921. That’s the base of the Donner Party monument behind them.

I’ve spent many hours of the past two weeks scanning and sorting my Aunt Dorothy’s huge accumulation of photographs. It’s taking even longer than I expected because, thanks to modern computer technology, I can now see details that would only have been visible with a magnifying glass a few years ago. I end up trying to revive faded or underexposed prints that were tiny to begin with, and saving faces and clothing details. Also, I am trying to put names to as many faces as possible. So, while I am time-traveling through thousands of images, I will share a few “postcards from a time-traveler.”

Dot Barton (my Aunt Dorothy,) with Jen, Spurr, and Dot Robinson at Truckee, 1921.

Dot B. is wearing a very hairy sweater, and she’s borrowed a huge Tam-o-Shanter from her friend Dottie Biggs.

Dottie Biggs and Dorothy Barton in Truckee, 1921.

It was only by enlarging this section of the photo that I saw the shawl and huge tam on the woman standing behind them.

The woman in the middle is Dottie Biggs, wearing a long, thick sweater. 1921.

Dot Barton and Lloyd Muller in 1921. She is wearing the full-legged knickers that many women wore for sports. Her sweater is not too different from those of 1917. He’s wearing his cloth cap turned backwards…. like a baseball cap in the nineties.

Gladys Spurr and Dot Robinson in 1922.

My Aunt Dorothy, nicknamed Dot, worked in an office with Dot Robertson, Dot Robinson, and Dottie Biggs. It must have been a relief when Adeline and Gladys were hired!

For those who live where snow is a normal event, I should explain that it only snows in San Francisco a couple of times per century.  Some people “go to the snow” on the mountainous eastern side of the state every winter — just to see snow. It seems odd today to think a sweater would be enough protection when the snow is falling, but that’s what all these women are wearing, along with knickers or riding pants.

Gladys Spurr and Dot Robinson face the cold in sweaters and wool twill riding pants. 1921.

Dot Barton’s long sweater has pockets big enough to hold her gloves. She has probably laced gaiters over her legs, with turned-down socks.

Dottie Biggs in a sweater vest over a dark shirt, plus a long, thick sweater. And that wonderful hat…. 1921.

I can’t get enough of that Tam-O-Shanter — and her attitude.

A giant Tam-o-Shanter — very chic in the late teens and early twenties. Notice that she’s wearing earrings and … is that lipstick?

It’s lovely to see the fun they had — almost a hundred years ago.

Why did they want to sit on the roof? Probably because it was there.  Donner Lake, 1921.

Because these young people worked for the SP railroad, they probably took advantage of cheap tickets for weekends at Russian River (in the summer) and at Truckee or Lake Tahoe in the winter. The train from San Francisco through the Sierra Nevada mountains still goes through Truckee on its way to Reno, Nevada and points east.

The “gang” from the SP office may be thinking of some liquid refreshment….  Especially that guy wearing just a shirt and bow tie over his sweater. Sadly for them, Prohibition went into effect in January of 1920. But the sign on the rock was still there in 1921.

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Filed under 1920s, Hairstyles, Hats, Makeup & Lipstick, Men's Sportswear, Menswear, Sportswear, Vintage Accessories, Vintage Garments: The Real Thing, vintage photographs, Women in Trousers