pattern junkie

Party dresses for my alter egos

I guess I've been looking for outside motivation to help me get to the sewing machine lately, because I seem to have gone a little competition-mad.  First I signed up for Pattern Review's Wardrobe Contest (10 coordinating pieces in 2 and a half months), then I jumped on the Wardrobe Refashion bandwagon.

Now Sew Retro has to go and complicate things by announcing their November Party Time Competition.  I won't sign up (repeat to self: "I won't sign up, I won't sign up") because A) I don't think I'll finish the PR contest, as I've only done 2 garments and am in the midst of a big work project and B) I live in Southern California, where wearing anything more formal than lounge pants and flip flops is viewed with suspicion.  I jest -- a little -- but the truth is, I won't be needing loads of flirty dresses for the upcoming party season. 

Still, it's fun to imagine a life that demands a whole fleet of party dresses.  Here are the dresses -- and by extension, the alter egos -- I'm wanting right now: 

Mmm.  Here I'm an absolutely fabulous upper crust fashionista with a dash of bohemian flair.  It's New York in the late 1960s, and I'm dashing across a Central Park West drawing room to deliver a scathing bon mot to Andy Warhol.  Nico and Twiggy may have shorter dresses, but they don't have my wit.

I've had this pattern in my collection for a long time, and I really want to make it -- although it falls squarely into the category of patterns I should avoid at all costs.  I look best in things that emphasize my waist.  Flowy mod 60s-era dresses designed for Twiggy silhouettes generally make me look like a block of cheese.  Witty bon mots generally aren't enough to set off that look.

My next contender would be this one, Vogue 1116:

If I'm Red there, I'm hosting one awesome mid-70s party for the block.  So confident, so assured!  I've whipped up 300 canapes from the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook and styled my hair perfectly, despite having misplaced one of my feet.  Plus, I'm wearing an actual "hostess dress," a concept in dressing that should definitely make a comeback.  (If I'm Blue?  Then I'm in a fern bar, about to give a no-good man a piece of my mind.)

I've had Vogue 1116 for a while and will make it one of these days -- it looks like a blast to wear.  The only thing that scares me?  That's gotta be one monster hem.

Here's another fantasy party dress, Vogue 1227, found on the Vintage Pattern Wiki:

 

Clearly I'm an international superspy, perhaps even James Bond's nemesis.  It's a cocktail party in Monaco, and this slinky little number doesn't have a hiding place for guns and secret documents -- that's what my poufy hair and chignon are for, silly goose.

Finally, here's a pattern from my etsy shop, McCall's 9619:

This pattern fascinates me: it's from 1953, and so different from the big skirted dresses we associate with that time.  Toreador pants, a cummerbund, a ruffled blouse -- what party demands this outfit?  If I'm wearing this, I must be in Pamplona at the running of the bulls -- although with that wasp waist, I'm certainly not eating anything.

What are your fantasy party dresses?

Costume Countdown: Sci Fi Madness!

With just under a week to go until Halloween (one of my favorite holidays -- I'm still rubbing the blood off my arms from the "Carrie at the prom" costume I wore to a party last night), I'm declaring it "Costume Countdown" week.  I'll be featuring vintage costume patterns every day until Halloween. 

Today: SCI FI MADNESS!

First up, Butterick 6756, which you can find on etsy at the lovely PatternMania's shop.

I love this illustration.  I like to imagine it's actually from a children's book, "The Littlest Spaceman," about an astronaut's son who takes dad's spaceship and lands on the Planet of Animals.  As he shouts "I'm Lord of All I Survey!", Panda and Leopard bow compliantly, while Lion does a welcoming dance.  Sadly, the Littlest Spaceman has led a sheltered life on the space compound, and doesn't realize that Rabbit and Carrot have other opinions.  A coup's a coming, and it's not going to be pretty.

Now, no Sci Fi costume post could be complete without McCall's 8731, which any Star Wars fanatic should grab from PatternPeddler posthaste.  It is -- hold your breath now -- an Ewoks pattern.  OK, so some Star Wars fans may buy the pattern to burn it, but I'll take the cutesy Ewoks over Episode One any day.

I was excited to post this because I thought it gave me a valid reason to link to the Star Wars Holiday Special from 1978, until I remembered that that gem of television history featured Wookies, not Ewoks.  I'm linking to it anyway, because you've never seen such a confused mess in your life.  Poor Harrison Ford.

Finally, why limit Sci Fi wonderfulness to Halloween?  Erin over at Dress A Day finished her Tetris Dress, and it's great!  Here's a pic of the wonderfulness, but go to her blog to get the full story!

Kwik Sew Crime Scene

What were the pattern illustrators at Kwik Sew smoking in the 70s?  I'm sorry, but I don't associate women's undergarments in a field with concepts like "fun hobby" and "happy sewing."  I associate them with concepts like "crime scene" and "ritual murder."

And no, the pretty flowers don't make it any better.

P.S.  It's available over at MOMSPatterns.  They're having a sale through October 31 -- just use the code "dressup" to get 15% off.

Hey, Wiki, You're So Fine! You're So Fine You Blow My Mind! HEY WIKI!

Say it again: HEY, WIKI!

My apologies for getting that bit of the '80s reverberating through your noggin, but it'll be worth it if you don't already know about one of the best vintage sewing pattern resources available on the Web: the Vintage Sewing Patterns Wiki.

That's right: it's all vintage sewing patterns (pre 1990s), all the time.  You can search by pattern number -- browse your favorite era -- browse your favorite styles.  For fun, hit the "Random Page" button.  When I did it today I was rewarded with this lovely pattern:

Since it's a wiki, you can add your own entries and edit others.  Share your collection and make me drool!  Looking for a certain pattern?  Check the "Source/Vendors" link for on-line shops carrying it.  Still can't find it?  Stick a "wanted" notice on a sewing pattern entry to let the world know your desire.

Vintage ephemera like sewing patterns are, well, ephemeral -- and what I adore about the wiki is that it gives us all a place to preserve and share these bits of history.  Check it out!

The Crying of McCall's 6781

McCall's 6781, copyright 1979, has one of those pattern envelope illustrations that just puzzles me the more I look at it:

 

First of all, what's with those odd green apple appliqués?  Are they a Pynchon-inspired symbol, a la the Trystero posthorn, out to alert those in the know to this pattern's TRUE meaning?

Secondly, is this the pattern guaranteed to put your young one to sleep?  Four of those girls, with their Weasly-red hair and wide feet, are happily succumbing to dreamland.  I mean, they're positively giddy.  Do the nightgowns emit ether or something?  Poor little View B Red is the only one successfully fighting it off, and I fear what dreadful thing she's going to catch her parents doing when she sneaks down to the romper room at midnight. 

God-Awful.

You gotta appreciate a seamstress who's honest in her feelings about a pattern -- in this case, Simplicity 3600:

  I'd really love to see the garment that prompted the summary "GOD-AWFUL BIG NECK!"

Of Buffums and Pearl Buttons

One of the things I love about collecting vintage patterns is discovering notes and other bits of ephemera that the original owners stashed in the envelope.  It might be a note about pattern adjustments -- a shopping list gone astray -- a fabric sample tucked away.  Whatever it is, it's a little window on the past of the pattern and the seamstress who used it.

Recently I was checking pattern pieces on Simplicity 4103 and discovered this newspaper ad tucked inside:

Here's the pattern itself:

I wonder -- was it a little girl who saw the Buffums (Buffums!  Great name!) ad and pointed it out to her mom?  Or did mom see it and decide that's what she wanted to make for her daughter?  The pattern pieces are cut out, so I do hope the dream Buffums dress became a reality.

Whatever the story, it brings back fond memories for me.  Back in the early 80s when I was an eighth grader, the Prairie Dress/Gunne Sax fad swept over Parker Junior High.  I was at the age where I HAD to dress like my friends -- the dorky "Mork and Mindy" suspenders of earlier years had been tossed, and my era of hacking up men's pajamas to make suits and trolling thrift stores for vinyl coats was yet to come.  A Gunne Sax dress was essential for my social survival -- and pearl buttons were absolutely crucial.  Without pearl buttons, the dress would be nothing.

My mom decided to take on this project herself -- and in secret, no less.  She surprised me with an absolutely gorgeous dress.  Blue calico, cream calico, lace, ribbon and yes...pearl buttons.  I have pictures of myself in it: I was thirteen, awkward, gawky and unsure of myself, but that dress made me feel great.  And that had very little to do with the fact that it was "in" and everything to do with the fact that it was a labor of love, made with me and only me in mind.  Thanks, Mom!