As seems to be the theme of my Historical Sew Monthly sewing this year, my original plan for this month's challenge just didn't happen. This month's theme is War and Peace, and we are to make a garment that reflects either war time or peacetime. I confess that wartime is easier to think about as the implications for clothing are so obvious and numerous. (Fabric rationing, difficulty in obtaining supplies, make do and mend, military influenced styles, etc) I had planned to make a 1916 factory girl smock out of some twill I had in my stash, but I've run into a few difficulties with the project and shelved it for the time being. I may make it up in the fall, when it has a better chance of being worn, or I might use that twill for another dress project I have in mind for later in the year.
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| Great War Factory girls |
After I realized my original idea wasn't going to be ready in time for this month's submission, I decided to think more about peacetime, as that is a more challenging subject to express sartorially. As my most of my clothing tends to the interwar and early WW2 period of the late 1910s to the early 1940s, it is an interesting time to ponder. The years from 1919-1939 were technically peacetime ones, but anyone with eyes in their head could see that Europe was heading for another large-scale conflict from at least the early 1930s. The ruinous reparations of the Versailles Treaty set the stage for the rise of Nazi Germany and the conflict that followed, and the great crash of 1929 added further economic sanctions to an already crippled Europe.
Relative to today, ready to wear clothing was quite expensive (it wasn't until after WW2 that ready to wear became more easily available to the masses, and even then, clothing remained a valuable commodity for at least another 20-30 years). Women tended to own fewer garments than women of today, and those owned tended to be of higher quality, made in such ways that they could be let out, refashioned, cut down to fit younger members of the household (this is, incidentally, probably the chief reason why there are so few extant examples of larger sizes of vintage clothing. It isn't that everyone was a vintage size 12; rather that size 12s tended to be younger women and teenagers. Their clothing was already quite small and could only be cut down to fit children. Larger women's clothing, which naturally had more fabric, and tended to belong to older women, tended to get passed down to younger members and refashioned/made smaller).
Starting in the 1920s, however, paper patterns became quite popular. They had been around since the mid-19th century, but advances in both sewing technology and ideas about pattern making meant that more women were able to sew the clothing for their families at home. Clothing-wise, the 1920s were easy to sew for--the famous One-Hour Dress was popular and easy to modify to suit a range of designs and styles. Hem lines had gone up as social norms changed and more women joined the workforce outside the home (I should note that women have always worked outside the home, and in large numbers, but as I noted in my review of Judith Flanders' book, it was not remunerated in the same way as men's work outside the home, and was therefore not as economically valued until women began to work in the same sorts of venues that men did (i.e. offices and factories).
By the 1930s, however, the Great Depression was in full swing, and the smaller conflicts that would shape the character of the larger war to come were ongoing in Europe. Hemlines dropped, clothing lines became more severe and fitted, and serious foundation garments came back into fashion. At the same time, however, clothing of the 1930s has a certain amount of frivolity and whimsy to it. Buttons are used in unusual ways, asymmetric trims and necklines are popular, bias cut clothing (which always takes more fabric than straight grain) is common. Elsa Schiaparelli was in her heyday, creating garments with a lot of theatrical touches, such as the skeleton dress, and the lobster dress. The Button Dress, with 8 completely decorative buttons, is another good example of 1930s detailing.
This is my Shelburne Falls dress. I used Denyse Schmidt's vintage repro fabric from the Maple Palette, and my Frankenpattern with some mods to make it more 1930s-like. As I wrote previously, this style of dress was quite popular in the 1930s, and I've got lots of examples of housedresses in this style and shape, but day dresses in this style were also popular--I have a couple patterns from the Vintage Pattern Lending Library from 1934 that are similar in shape and style. I tried to come up with some whimsical touches, such as the diagonal line of buttons across the neckline.
I had thought to continue the buttons down the side seam of the skirt, but I didn't really have enough of the same type and color to do so, and it didn't quite look right with the pocket placement. I made a slash-style patch pocket, similar in style to others I've seen on various housedresses.
Kimono sleeves were popular and normal at the time, as I've said. I think one reason for this is that they are very fabric efficient as well as being easy for a beginning sewer to work with. As home sewing was really coming into its own during the interwar years, and women were learning how to sew with machines instead of by hand and learning how to sew with paper patterns, cut-on sleeves are an easy place to start (I think it worth noting that many of the styles of the 1920s also featured kimono sleeves; long sleeves were achieved with a rectangular addition to the bottom, and easy add-on that doesn't need basting and can be sewn on flat. This type of sleeve addition remained popular into the early 1930s).
The main reason I think of this dress as a peacetime sartorial choice is that peacetime means one has the time, resources, and creative energy to make garments with interesting details. Wartime clothing can be sartorially pleasing, with its military influences, creativity in fabric and design due to shortages. Peacetime clothing is harder to put a border around precisely because there is so much space for creativity. While war produces great advances in technology, it takes peacetime to really develop them for general use (things like plastics, microwave technology and many other now-standard technologies of the post modern age have their roots in war time armaments)
The Challenge: War and Peace
What is it: casual day dress
Fabric: 100% cotton Denyse Schmidt Shelburne Falls Dress Floral in Maple (mid-weight cotton)
Pattern: Franken-patterned from heavily modified Emery bodice, McCall's 4275 skirt, self-drafted slash-style patch pockets
Year: 1934 (ish)
Notions: vintage red bias binding, vintage buttons (probably from the 1940s, going by color and style, but I could be wrong; they were off their card when I bought them)
How historically accurate is it? 7/10 The fabric is okay for a house dress, but not really right for a day dress. A day dress would have been made of something with better drape like rayon or georgette, or a lighter weight cotton. It could also have been made of light wool garbardine for cooler weather. The mid-weight cotton is fine for the the print and look, however. I also used a plastic zip and put it in the back, which is wrong. The zip would have been metal and on the side if used at all--snaps and hooks were a little more commonly used in the early 1930s. I'm pretty sure the button are from the 1940s, but since they weren't on their original card when I bought them, I can't be certain.
I finished my seams by pinking, which is appropriate, but I finished my edges with bias, which I'm not quite sure about. Bias tape definitely existed and was used to great effect on house dresses as trim and for binding the edges, but it tended to be visible. Facings were more common on necklines and sleeves, and hems tended to be turned up and sewn by hand. I've not seen an invisible bias bound edge on an extant dress, but I've not had a lot of experience handling 1930s dresses in person, so I could be wrong.
Hours to complete: about 4, counting cutting time.
First worn: April 6, 2015
Total cost: $31 for the fabric, probably $7 in buttons and bias tape, $2 for the zip, so $40 total.
*I made a sash to go with this dress for days when my belly isn't cooperating, but I made this dress with this leather belt in mind. I have a red one that matches the red in the dress as well. I also have a red cardigan that will work well for cooler weather.



fun! I always enjoy reading your sewing and history posts!
ReplyDeleteEngaging, lovely post, dear gal. I absolutely adore your new frock. That colour palette is fresh, fun and invigorating, while certainly channeling a feel good, peace time-esque vibe.
ReplyDeleteIt's wonderful to see the point brought up about larger vintage garments being resized for smaller family members. Another reason why we see a lot of teeny vintage sizes is that they were often worn by young women briefly before they married and (often quickly) started a family, thus not always regaining their ultra slender figures post childbirth, so they might have held on to those pieces in the hopes that they would get into them again (much like today's "skinny jeans") or simply because of the fond memories they held.
Wishing you a fantastic week,
♥ Jessica
Great post! I am doing a project at the moment using Stitchcraft magazines (which started in 1932) - I am currently in 1933. I just love the clothing from the 30s and 40s!
ReplyDelete