pattern junkie

We All Need A Little Time Out

Someone at McCall's really hates designing dolls.

Fosse Does Butterick

Wow.  Even by the warped standards of fashion illustration, these are some LONG legs.  Looking at White Shorts makes me shudder, and not in a good way:

Plaid and Red seem to be engaged in some kind of dance move, which makes me think they're all in that long-forgotten 1970s musical "A Culotte Line," which tells the uplifting story of a group of young designers determined to end the pants/skirts divide once and for all.

Two words, people: JAZZ HANDS!

Kwik Sew Shenanigans

Oh, Kwik Sew, Kwik Sew.  I don't mean to pick on you, but you make it so darn easy.  Really, who was responsible for the lingerie and child pattern illustrations of the 60s and 70s?  You've already disturbed me with lingerie in a field, sexy footed pajamas and Silence of the Lambs-style imagery.  Now I find THIS:

 

I really have no words -- except a vehement "eww."

Mini-Me

Peruse vintage patterns for a while, and you'll quickly notice an oft-used convention in the illustrations: two "normal sized" models and one "mini," squeezed in to show the back view or a third option.  Usually, it works just fine and dandy, like in Simplicity 2402:

There, the poor mini doesn't even get the benefit of a full body!  Here's another example -- Simplicity 8535:

Sure, Magenta looks like the kind of bad girl who would beat up someone two thirds her size, but we just accept that Black is in her own separate reality and move on.

Sometimes, however, the Two Big/One Little goes horribly, horribly wrong.  Take Vogue 1059:

Yikes!  I don't know whether Black is petting Little Print with her absurdly large gloved hand or if she's just conjured her out of thin air, but I guarantee you she's up to no good.  I predict she has a whole host of nefarious plans that she'll be sending Little Print out to enact.  Is Red in on the plot?  From the look on her face, I have to assume so. 

This I do know: if I wake up in the middle of the night with Little Print standing next to my bed staring at me, I'm toast. 

It's Always Fun Until Someone Loses Their Legs

Poor Green.  That dress demands twirling...and twirling, alas, demands legs.

Fear The Plant

 

Yellow: Tulips!  How pretty!  What a sweet way to welcome us to the neighbor--

Blue: Here.  Take them.

Red: Everyone in the neighborhood has them. 

Yellow: It's uncanny how they match my dress.  They're the exact same shade -- wait.  Did you embroider them on your pocket?

Red: What?  No.  We haven't been watching you.

Yellow: Excuse me?

Blue: Please please take them.  They're hurting me.

Yellow: Why won't either of you make eye contact with me?

Blue: They make me...do things.

Red: We all love tulips!

Blue: And so...will you.

Costume Countdown: Tears of a Clown

I made a promise to myself when I embarked upon costume countdown week to limit my use of clowns -- believe me, I could feature vintage clown patterns all week.  Each one has a little something special to make it just not right in that way clowns are.  Take, for example, Butterick 3169, a 1964 pattern I found in Midvale Cottage's etsy shop:

Oh, you may think this is just a tableau of frolicking kids -- but take a closer look at the one in the upper right hand corner.  WHY IS THE APPLE FLOATING?!

My personal fave, though, is Advance 701, which appears to be either from the 1940s or early 1950s.  Interestingly, it seems to have been issued with two different illustrations -- perhaps one version one year and one the next?  The illustration style and price suggest too close a date for this to be a case of pattern re-numbering.

Here's illustration one, from the pattern's page on the Vintage Sewing Wiki.  Our happy Halloween couple traises down the block for a Halloween party:

Next, look at the pattern listing over at Spessarite Sole.  I think someone spiked the Pink Zombie Punch with truth serum, because a scene of Who's Afraid of VIrginia Woolf? proportions took place between this illustration and the last one:

Advance consistently had such gorgeous illustrations, and these are both worth framing -- although I think you'd have to give it a title like "From Revelry to the Death of Love." 

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.

Creepy Children, Volume 3: It Puts the Lotion in the Basket, or It Gets the Hose Again

OK.  I know that Kwik Sew 345 is supposed to be all childlike and innocent, but it just creeps me out.  And yes, since it's from the 60s or 70s the resemblance to the poster for The Silence of the Lambs is completely coincidental, but it's there.  Behold:

Kwik Sew:

Silence of the Lambs:

The more I look at the Kwik Sew pattern illustration, the more it creeps me out.  What's the boy hiding behind his back, and why is he smiling like that?  What's wrong with the girl's fingers?  They're just weird.  And why does she have that big jelly arm?  Does she even have arm bones?  Where are the boy's feet?!

Ick.

Creepy Children, Volume Two: The Endtimes Are Near

Simplicity 7683
Originally uploaded by TheRealAstrogirl

Forget the four horsemen of the apocalypse. It's going to be three gleeful tykes in footie pajamas who usher in the end of the world.

"Creepy Children" is already well on its way to being a regular feature here at Pattern Junkie -- there are just too many to choose from. For another truly jaw-dropping kids' pattern illustration, check out Kwik Sew 1653 over at the fabulous blog Clothed Minds. It's honestly sort of disturbing.