Becoming Dresses and Maternity Gowns, 1930

“Smart Patterns and Becoming Maternity Gowns,” from Good Housekeeping, February 1930, p. 74.

You’d expect fashion coverage from 1930 to be interesting, as women were trying to adjust to natural waistlines and descending hemlines. Caroline Gray, writing in Good Housekeeping, combined her suggestions for the mature figure with suggestions for maternity fashions. (Can you guess which are which?)

“The new silhouette is definitely here! Waists are higher and skirts are longer, and whether we like it or not, if we wish to look smart we must try to adapt it to ourselves and make it becoming…. Find the exact place where a higher belt is most becoming to you and put it there, regardless of whether it is quite as high as the dresses you see…. Nothing will look truly smart on you unless it suits your figure…. When you are determining the length of your skirt, experiment until you find the exact spot where it will add the most to your height and slenderness, for that is what we all want to achieve this season.”

Good Housekeeping pattern F-7 was recommended in February 1930. Sizes 34 to 42. Not a maternity fashion.

“A small bolero is always becoming and makes the higher waistline more bearable.” The band at the hips echoes the familiar line of the twenties, but it follows the line of the bolero instead of  running horizontally.

Pattern F-6 is also suggested as a transitional style for “mature” women:

Good Housekeeping pattern F-6 from February 1930, p. 74. The natural waist is fitted, but not accented. For sizes 36 to 42. The tunic gives both a short and a longer hemline.

Of course, looking tall and thin is a challenge for most women even when they are not pregnant. Many writers in the 1920’s assumed that a woman’s goal was to conceal her pregnancy as long as possible.

“Maternity clothes have two objects: One is to make your condition unnoticeable, the other is to give you every physical advantage possible…. At this time you do not want to be conspicuous in any way.” — From The New Dressmaker, a Butterick book, c1921, p, 72.

To this end, Vogue suggested, in June of 1930, that pregnant women simply buy chic dresses in a larger-than-usual size, and have the neck and shoulders altered to fit.

“At first, concealment is easily effected by any woman with an eye for dress, but, after the figure is obviously changed, it is still possible to achieve, sometimes to the very end, the effect of a normal figure…. One should try to create the illusion of the naturally heavy figure, rather than be conspicuous for a disproportionate one.” — (Vogue, June 1930, pp 83, continued on p 102.) [This is 1930’s “pregnancy shaming:” it was better to be thought “heavy” than pregnant.]

Vogue suggested these fashionable gowns, among others, for the expectant mother in 1930:

Suggested maternity fashions, Vogue, June 1930. The one on the left was from Bonwit-Teller; the one on the right is a Vionnet tea-gown available from Jay Thorpe.

I’ll devote a later post to Vogue‘s other “just buy a bigger size” 1930 maternity suggestions.

Here are the maternity styles suggested by Good Housekeeping in 1930:

Maternity gown suggestions, Good Housekeeping, Feb. 1930, p. 74.

The article did not offer a pattern, or say that this suit and rather formal surplice dress could be purchased ready-made.

It’s hard to imagine how these dresses could be expanded enough, although the assumption was often made that you would constantly open seams, as your shape changed,  and remake the dress as needed from wide seam allowances.

“It is much better to choose current styles that can be adapted to maternity wear and use them in preference to the special maternity clothes…. The slight alterations [!] that you make for maternity use can be changed back to normal lines after the baby is born.” (The New Dressmaker, circa 1921. Page 72.)

There Were Clothes Specifically for Pregnancy

Dressmaker Lena Bryant had found a market niche back in 1905, when her private clients began asking for maternity fashions (She used elastic in the waistbands, among other  devices for making them expandable.)

Lane Bryant ad for maternity corset, Ladies’ Home Journal, December 1917, p. 112.

“By 1904, [Lena] Bryant was successful enough to open her own shop on Fifth Avenue at 120th Street. In the process of obtaining a loan from Oriental Bank, her first name was misspelled, giving birth to “Lane Bryant.”

“Bryant soon turned to producing dresses as well as undergarments for pregnant women, who had a difficult time finding stylish clothes that fit well. Bryant designed a maternity tea dress, called “Number 5” after its place on the order form. According to Figure, no newspaper would run advertisements for her maternity dresses–it was against the mores of the day for “ladies in waiting” to appear in public. When Bryant finally managed to have a small ad run in the New York Herald, she sold out of maternity dresses the day it appeared.” — from Funding Universe  (My McAfee security says it blocked ads from this site.)

Ad for the Lane Bryant maternity catalog, Delineator, March 1917. p. 43. “Portraying the prevailing New York fashions, but so adapted as to successfully conceal condition….Fit when figure is again normal.”

The Lane Bryant mail-order catalog passed $1 million in sales in 1917. (Oddly, that was an era that favored thick waists, very full skirts, and smock-type overblouses — one of the rare times when mainstream fashion was perfectly suited to accommodate pregnancy.) Lane Bryant promised that their dresses would “automatically adjust” to fit after the baby was born — making them a good investment.

Chanel styles, 1916, from Fashion Through Fashion Plates by Doris Langley Moore.

Teen-aged girls in California, circa 1918. Waists were thick (and high) and skirts were full.

However, of the many decades when fashion was cruel to the chic pregnant woman, the early nineteen-thirties may hold the crown. These are maternity dresses. (Seriously.) The mores of the publishing industry meant that they could not be illustrated on a visibly pregnant body.

The illustration shows three versions of Companion-Butterick maternity dress pattern 6948, from Woman’s Home Companion, August, 1936.  To read more about it, see Who Would Ever Guess?

A long, slender ideal silhouette plus soft, clinging fabrics, narrow hips, flat tummies, and (often) a decorative belt at the natural waist — combined with the idea that pregnancy was shameful and had to be concealed — must have made pregnant women feel frustrated in the thirties. Talk about an impossible ideal!

 

 

More Sheer Dresses from the Late 1930s

Recently Lynn at American Age Fashion posted photos of some older women wearing sheer day dresses in the 1930‘s and the 1940‘s.

Ashville, Ohio, July 4th 1938. Photo by Ben Shahn, Library of Congress.

Like Jennifer (from Holliepoint) in Lynn’s comments section, I was surprised that older women would wear sheer dresses that showed their slips. In the fifties and sixties, just having a slip strap drop off my shoulder and become visible was a mortifying experience for me.  “Intimate apparel” was not supposed to be seen except in intimate situations.

However, I was forgetting that many fashions of the 1900’s and 1910’s were sheer, and that women who had been twenty or thirty at the turn of the century would not think of summer dresses that revealed your lingerie as shockingly new. Au contraire.

Ladies’ blouse/waists, Delineator, July 1917. Most of these are sheer; you can see through the sleeves, and probably through the bodices, in real life.

Early in the century, there was even a long-running fashion for “lingerie dresses” like these; they are made of sheer “handkerchief linen,” or cotton batiste, or lawn and ornamented with inset lace, like the underwear (lingerie) of their day.

Lingerie dresses. Left, early 1900’s; right, 1910’s or early twenties. These were photographed over a black slip to show the lace to advantage. A white slip would have been very visible through these dresses.

Thin cotton fabrics and lace inserts were used to make undergarments and also to make blouses. Butterick patterns from Delineator, 1917. The blouse/waist at right is sheer enough to show the model’s embroidered underwear, or a lace underbodice.

This beautiful — and very sheer — blouse was made of two layers of netting:

A blouse/waist so sheer that it is made of two layers of netting. Private collection.

Here is its equally beautiful back:

This sheer, embroidered netting blouse has a “sailor collar” in back. Circa 1910’s to 1920’s.

Sheer blouses like the one below are now called “Armistice Blouses,” but it probably dates earlier than 1918, when the Armistice ending World War I was proclaimed.

A sheer vintage blouse, circa WW I, sometimes called an “Armistice Blouse.”

In this photo, you can easily see the coat hanger through the blouse. Underwear would have been equally visible.

Skin and underwear would have been visible through this sheer cotton vintage blouse. Private collection.

During the 1910’s, a skirt and matching bodice (called a waist) were often worn instead of a dress. The patterns were sold separately. These surviving waists show that  they were part of see-through fashions:

Purple chiffon waist, probably 1910’s.

Sheer, embroidered pink blouse or waist. Probably 1910’s.

It makes sense to me that women who wore these sheer clothes in their prime . . .

Sheer vintage blouse, before 1910.

. . . would be perfectly comfortable in sheer dresses in their middle and old age:

Older woman wearing a sheer, striped dress. Fourth of July, 1938, Ashville, Ohio. Library of Congress photo by Ben Shahn. Detail.

No wonder they took to the sheer fashions of the late 1930’s:

A dress flattering to larger figures, Simplicity 3139, store flyer, Oct. 1939. Sizes 32 to 44.

DuBarry pattern 2319B, for a sheer afternoon dress. Store flyer, Aug. 1939. Available in sizes 32 to 42.

Vogue 8315, Vogue store flyer for May 1, 1939. Sizes 32 to 42 bust.

Companion-Butterick pattern 7989, from August 1938. Dotted sheer fabric.

Simplicity 3205, store flyer, Oct. 1939. A dress with sheer lace yoke and sleeves.

Fourth of July, 1938, Ashville, Ohio. Photo by Ben Shahn from Library of Congress. Detail. A sheer dress with polka dots and a lace dress.

The lace dress has a curving under-bust seam like this one:

“Figures are no problem to us.” A lace evening dress with bolero jacket, Butterick Fashion News flyer, August 1938.

Lace dress for larger or mature women. Butterick pattern 7998, 1938. “Wear with dignity and chic.” Sizes 34 to 52 inch bust.

For more about these and other sheer nineteen thirties dresses, click here.

Thanks again to Lynn at American Age Fashion for writing about photos of older women in sheer dresses!

Clothes for Clubwomen (and Their Cost) Feb. 1933

Butterick suggests a “Clubwoman’s Wardrobe for $30.00.” Delineator, Feb. 1933. “The colors are, from left to right, black, green, gray and black.”

“Clubwomen” implies enough leisure to participate in community fundraisers, bridge parties, etc. The Delineator‘s target reader was middle-class (Butterick patterns were more expensive than “dime-store” patterns.) But this was 1933, and many formerly “comfortable” people were struggling to keep their (1929) pre-crash position in the economy. This article assured “clubwomen” that they could afford to dress well, making four outfits for $30. As we might expect, “clubwomen” were often women whose children were grown, women of a “certain age” and, in some cases, a less than ideal figure.

Opening paragraph of the article, Delineator, p. 68. February 1933.

Clubwoman’s Figure

“I have what is known as the ‘clubwoman’s figure’ and I suffer from those I-can’t-find-anything-to-fit-me blues…. I am so tired of those oldish frocks that shopkeepers seem to think  anyone weighing over a hundred and twenty should wear.”

Delineator suggested a four pattern wardrobe to solve these problems and gave the cost for materials to make each of them. Not surprisingly, the coat and the evening ensemble were the most expensive. However, a coat might be expected to last for two years.

Butterick 4902 coat pattern for 1933

Butterick coat pattern 4902, from Delineator, Feb. 1933. Estimated cost of materials is $9.91. Sizes up to 44 inch bust.

Description of Butterick coat pattern 4902, from 1933.

The coat pattern was available in sizes 12 to 20, 30 to 44 inch bust measure. This was a normal range of women’s sizes for Butterick in 1933, equivalent to modern sizes 6 through 22.

Butterick dress pattern 4840 from 1933

Butterick No. 4840 for “clubwomen.” It could be made for $ 5.20 and came in sizes up to 44 inch bust measure.

Description of Butterick 4840, from 1933.

The solid color on the wrap bodice isn’t allowed for on the pattern — which I have not been able to locate at the Vintage Pattern Wikia or at CoPA. The largest size on this pattern was for a 44 inch bust, which usually meant 47.5 inch hips.

Butterick dress pattern 4790 from 1933

Butterick No. 4790, a “clubwoman’s dress” from Feb. 1933. It was available in large sizes and could be made for $5.26, including materials, buttons and pattern.

Butterick  4790 description. “Get the darkest gray, as the light ones are not so interesting.”

Even a clubwoman with a 52 inch bust (a modern size 30W) could use this pattern.

Butterick evening ensemble 4904 from 1933

Butterick evening grown and jacket pattern. No. 4904 from 1933. Suggested for mature women, its materials cost $9.63 (or $10.88.)

This evening gown and matching jacket were suggested for “clubwomen” in sizes up to a 48″ bust measurement, size 26W in 2016.

Description of Butterick pattern 4904. If you line the lace yoke with flesh chiffon as recommended, the materials and pattern would cost $10.88.

Although this outfit looks like velvet in the illustration, the budget suggests “heavy sheer black crepe” and black lace. “With the jacket, this is correct for any formal afternoon occasion. Without the jacket, it is suitable for evening. So that it could be used for both purposes, we made it rather long — eight inches from the floor. For best effect, use lace that is not too hole-y and line the lace with flesh chiffon…. Those two bright spots at the neckline are double rhinestone clips. And when you want to look especially ravishing, give yourself a big bunch of purple violets and pin them, with their spread-out green leaves, just below that high point in the skirt.” [The skirt goes all the way up to the sternum on this pattern.]

This wardrobe, according to editor Marian Corey, could be worn six months of the year, if cleaned regularly.

“It  has got the right dress for every occasion, from shopping in town to traveling in Europe, or presiding over a club meeting, or attending a wedding. And it is inexpensive — costing, if one makes it oneself, just $30.00.” [In the 1930’s, many female college graduates were getting by on $18 per week.]

The same issue of Delineator had two more pages dedicated to hard-to-fit women. If coat No. 4902 wasn’t big enough, this coat and dress for “The Shorter Figure” (short in relation to its circumference) were featured on page 77.

Butterick patterns 4883 and 4956, “For the Shorter Figure,” Delineator, Feb 1933. Page 77.

Dress 4883 is “especially designed to give height and slenderness to the woman less than five-five with a larger hip size than average.” [That’s a surprise; apparently Butterick expected the average woman to be taller than 5′ 5″] Diagonal (or “surplice“) lines were often suggested as slenderizing. The cleverly cut back of this “height-giving” coat does create the illusion that the waist is much smaller than it really is. “Created with shorter women in mind.” These are not yet called “half-sized” patterns, however.

Back views of Butterick 4956 and 4883. Large sized patterns for shorter women, 1933.

On page 76 there were two more patterns designed for the “clubwoman’s figure” — here called “dresses with slender lines.”

Butterick 4957 and 4917, slender lines for larger figures. Feb. 1933.

You can see that the print dress does look slightly less short-waisted than its neighbor. [But not very flattering to the hips!]

And, in the same issue, women who were not young and slim could find an ad for the Lane Bryant Stout Women’s catalog:

Ad for the Lane Bryant Stout Women’s catalog. Delineator, Feb 1933.

The prices shown on the cover ($5.95 to $8.95) are not too far off Butterick’s make-it-yourself estimates. The dress at right has a skirt extending in a point up to the sternum, like the evening pattern suggested for clubwomen; its sleeves are also  very similar to the “clubwomen’s”  patterns. The illustration style, however, is a bit more realistic.

Similar slenderizing styles from Butterick and Lane Bryant. Delineator, Feb 1933.