What on Earth Is a “Costume Slip” ?

Costume Slips

I kept noticing the phrase “costume slip” in combination with “tunic blouse,” but even after finding several examples in Butterick lingerie patterns, my definition will be deduction and guesswork. I’m tempted to define a “costume slip” as “a slip-like garment that is intended to be seen.”

Four costume slips, November & December 1924. Butterick patterns 5635, 5631, 5685, 5667.

That is, the costume slip may be seen below a tunic blouse . . .

Tunic blouses with costume slips; Delineator, December 1924.

or under a sheer fabric like lace, voile, chiffon or georgette. . .

A sheer dress reveals the coordinating slip under it. Delineator, November 1924.

Butterick pattern for a sheer day dress, probably cotton voile, Aug. 1924. Such a dress needs a coordinating slip.

. . . or perhaps revealed by a coat dress that is open down the front, although these two dress patterns apparently included their own slip patterns.

Sheer coat dresses from 1926. Butterick patterns 6904 and 7024. Delineator.

“To wear under tunic blouses and transparent dresses . . . .” [I have not seen a lace-trimmed slip illustrated with a tunic blouse.] Costume slip pattern #5685, Butterick, Dec. 1924. Available up to bust size 52″.

This costume slip (#5638, below) takes the place of a pleated skirt. It could also be made with a “plain lower part.” The costume slip’s low pleats would avoid bulk over the hips, giving “the slender silhouette.”

Tunic Blouse 5962 worn over pleated Costume Slip 5638. Butterick patterns.

Butterick pattern description, Costume Slip #5638; Nov. 1924.

Tunic blouses with “open edges”, April 1925. Delineator. Costume slip #5638 — this time without pleats — is on the right.

To see more “tunic blouse costumes,” click here.

This 1926 costume slip could be made with a detachable front, called a vestee, to take the place of a blouse under a very low V-necked dress, a coat dress,  or a suit jacket.

A coat dress with low front, Nov. 1924; a costume slip (Butterick #7072, from 1926) could take the place of a blouse.

Women over forty may remember a more recent vogue for colorful, knit tank tops or camisoles with appliqued lace at the neckline, which served the same purpose.

Costume Slips or Lingerie Slips?

Lingerie slips, made of translucent silk, might have a “shadow-proof” hemline (i.e., two thicknesses of fabric) so that a woman could stand in a doorway with the light behind her and not have her legs visible though her clothes. This embarrassing photo of Lady Diana Spencer, later a fashion icon, shows why wearing an opaque slip can be a good idea.

The more images of costume slips I found, the more confused I got. This seems to be a lingerie slip, made of light silk or cotton — intimate apparel. But crepe satin and radium [a lustrous silk] were also recommended for costume slips.

A slip pattern, Butterick 4971, January 1924.

You would think a slip trimmed with lace is obviously a lingerie slip, not intended for public view. However, I was forgetting that the same pattern could be used for a costume slip or a lingerie slip –– depending on the fabric used: heavy, opaque silks for costume slips, and sheer China silk, batiste, cotton voile, etc., with optional lace, for intimate apparel.

Butterick slip pattern 4971, January 1924, would make either a costume slip or a slip that was only revealed in private. The small illustration shows it untrimmed and with a deep, shadow-proof hem.

“Radium” refers to radium silk, not radioactive silk. Crepe meteor seems similar to modern crepe-backed satin.

Costume slip patterns #5724 (Ladies) and #5726 (Misses and small women.) Butterick, Jan. 1925.

Butterick 5724:  “This costume slip with a straight lower edge and a three-inch or deep shadow-proof hem, is an especially good design.  Use soft satin, crepe meteor or crepe de Chine under tunic blouses, or these materials or sateen under transparent dresses, and radium silk, habutai silk, glove silk, silk jersey or sateen, under non-transparent dresses.” Notice how deep the shadow-proof hem is!

Skirts versus Costume Slips

To add to the confusion, 1920’s skirts were often made without a waistband, and attached to a slip-like bodice instead, so that the skirt was suspended from the shoulders and needed no darts or waist shaping. But they are not “costume slips.” They are skirts intended to be worn with hip-length overblouses, not longer “tunic” blouses, and the skirts are usually made from wool or broadcloth, not silk. The bodice could be inexpensive silk, cotton, or rayon.

1920’s skirts suspended from a bodice. 1927-28. From Stella Blum’s  Everyday Fashions of the Twenties.

This method of suspending a pleated skirt gives a perfectly straight, authentic twenties’ line. Wearing a twenties’ blouse or sweater over a modern skirt is less effective. Some 1920’s skirts were constructed with a waistband, but it did not ride snugly at the natural waist, so those skirts probably migrated around the body when worn. It must have been difficult to keep the blouse tucked in.

1920’s skirts to wear on top of a (or under) a blouse, Sears catalog, Fall 1925.

Also, with a waistband, the skirt waist is necessarily higher than the “fashion waist” of the late twenties.

Butterick patterns in Delineator, July 1926, p. 33.

Going Up: Rising Hemlines, Border Prints, and Tunics, 1924-1925

In 1924, the “Twenties’ look” most familiar to us today had not yet reached the proportions we expect. Skirts were long — as long as they had been in 1917.

Cover of Butterick’s Delineator magazine, June,1924

The young mother above wears a simple housedress, but the most famous designers in Paris were also showing long styles for daytime in 1924:

Fashions from Paris, sketched for Delineator by Soulie, January 1924. This dress is by Agnes.

“Gold braid underscored with rose-colored embroidery binds the slashed edges of an overdress and tunic of black crepe marocain. The foundation is narrow, the sleeve short and the length about eight inches from the floor. From Agnès. ” (Agnès was also known as Mme. Agnes Haver; her fashion house later merged with the house of Drécoll.)

Two things to note:  The dress ends “about eight inches from the floor,” and it is actually a tunic over a “narrow foundation.”  Here are three more Paris designs from early in 1924, drawn by Soulié:

Parisian luxury, March 1924. The designers are Martial et Armand (not much known today,) Molyneux, and Lelong.

1924 was a year when fashion was changing, and I want to draw attention to some of the “styling tricks” that made women willing to exchange these very long styles for much shorter ones. The suit on the far right above is by Lucien Lelong. Here is one of Lelong’s daytime styles, just six months later:

An ensemble by Lucien Lelong, drawn for Delineator in September, 1924, by Soulie.

Fans of late 1920’s fashions may think, “Now we’re getting somewhere!” Here are the two Lelong designs, side by side:

Day wear by Lucien Lelong, March and September, 1924.

How did we go from 8 inches off the ground to knee length in just six months?

Once again, a “tunic” is involved:  “Silver embroidery trims the white georgette tunic top.” Judging from other tunics (see below) the tunic has a dark, flared skirt which extends down to about 5 inches above the skirt hem. That produces two hemlines, and two hip lines as well:  transitional fashion. I can’t help noticing that the coat from March is the same length as the whole outfit in September.

Tunics and Costume Slips

Tunic blouses, as well as dresses with horizontal bands near the hem, and the use of border prints in both are typical of this period in fashion, when designers offered “two hems,” visually. The long “tunic blouse,” worn over a longer “costume slip,” created a dress that was both long (conservative) and short (the coming — but shocking — style.) This illustration shows all three “styling tricks” which evolved into a shorter look:

Butterick patterns for June 1924: left, a dress with a contrast band at the hem; center, a dress made from a border print fabric; and, right, a border print tunic worn over a white costume slip. Delineator.

These dresses get your eye used to stopping near the knee. (My eye runs down the blue dress to the hem and then bounces back up to the big black dots, and stays above them, as if the dress ended there.)

The “tunic blouse and costume slip” ensemble came into its own in mid-1924 — at least in Butterick’s Delineator patterns. Outfits with two visual hemlines — one real, and one either a tunic hem or an optical illusion, such as a plain or embroidered band — appeared early and often, side-by-side with other mid-twenties’ dresses, throughout 1924 and 1925.

Three Butterick dress patterns — not tunics — from 1924. Nos. 5157, 5145, and 5658. Each has a horizontal line at about knee level.

The dresses above use decoration to give your eye a choice of “hemline” — long, or about knee height. (To see some 1924 dresses shortened to knee length, click here.)

These “tunic blouse and costume slip” outfits really do have two hemlines:

Three tunic blouse and costume slip outfits, 1924. Butterick patterns Nos. 5790, 5455, & 5681. Slip patterns  5631 and 5685. The costume slip is also visible in the deep V-neck of the dress at right.

Older (or conservative) women could opt for very long dresses (right and center). Two of the tunics above also have a band of embroidery, suggesting three possible lengths: 8″ above the ground, mid-calf, or knee length.

A Vintage Tunic Blouse

Many years ago, while making an inventory of a vintage collection, I encountered a navy and white silk garment that puzzled me. I could tell from the fabric, construction and neckline that it was probably from the 1920’s. But it was a big cylinder, about 44 inches around, and quite short.

A mysteriously short — and large — silk dress.

It was too big for the mannequin, even big enough to fit me — but it stopped far above my knees. I tried to imagine a woman with a 44″ bust who was at least 10″ shorter than I am, which would make her 4′ 9″.  The fabric was printed á disposition, with a large scale pattern toward the bottom, getting smaller toward the top, and a white band. Was it so short because it was made from a silk scarf? I wondered.

Since it probably had a low resale value, I decided not to spend any more of my employer’s time on it. Two years later, I saw this page in a 1925 Delineator and the penny dropped:  It was a tunic blouse (far right):

A striped dress, a pink border print dress, and a black and white tunic blouse over a white costume slip. Butterick patterns for June, 1925. Delineator.

The vintage silk tunic blouse I found had become separated from its “costume slip” — probably navy or white, and probably mid-calf length. The tunic was made from a border print with a white band, as shown in the color image above, and in the black and white image below:

Three tunic blouse outfits, March 1925. Butterick’s Delineator. Each tunic is a different length, unlike the slips which show beneath them.

Once I started looking, the number and variety of tunic blouses in the 1924-25 Delineator magazines surprised me. Sometimes you have to look twice (or read the label) to tell the two-piece tunic blouse outfits from the wide-bordered dresses beside them.

Three dresses and a tunic blouse outfit (in brown), Delineator, 1925. Butterick patterns.

Delineator, Nov. 1924. A, B, and C are labeled tunic blouses. “A costume slip and several tunic blouses make a varied wardrobe.” The white and silver Lelong tunic was probably cut similar to “A.”

Three tunic blouses with costume slips, December, 1924. Butterick patterns in Delineator.

Dresses — not tunics — from  February, 1925. Butterick patterns. These 1925 hemlines are a little shorter, but two dresses still create a knee-length “stopping point” with a decorative band or embroidery.

The tunic blouse ensemble, and other dresses with a horizontal line at the knee, made the proportions of knee-length dresses seem familiar and attractive as they came to dominate twenties’ fashion.

“Tunic blouse costumes, the newest two-piece frock and dresses,” Delineator, April, 1925.

I suspect that many vintage dealers have encountered tunics without their slips, and, like me, puzzled over their odd proportions. Once the transition to knee length dresses happened in 1926-27, I wonder if thrifty women continued to wear the longer knee-length tunics without their slips.  The survival of any of the silk border prints is lucky, because they were such a great source of re-useable fabric during the 1930’s Depression and 1940’s fabric rationing. It’s easy to imagine them turned into blouses, scarves, jacket linings, and even bodice/yoke/sleeves for two-fabric dresses.

Two-fabric dresses from Butterick’s Delineator, 1931.

Two-fabric outfits, Butterick’s Delineator, 1932. A flash of matching, dotted jacket lining is visible at left.

Next stop:  What on earth is a “costume slip?”