Tag: Vogue

Giant Ridiculous Hat.

Vogue 8405

This is Vogue 8405, view A.

I was a bit worried that it might be hot while I was in London so, as I tend to fall over with sunstroke at the slightest provocation, I thought it would be a good idea to make a massive sunhat.

One side is the same purple linen as the Regency-ish dress. The other side is an offensively pink cotton that matches my hair. It’s fully reversible.

The pattern called for two layers of fabric and a layer of hair canvas. This still seemed a bit floppy for my liking, so I interfaced the pink layer. Still a bit floppy, so I quilted the entire brim in a spiral. Much better!

Regency dresses or summer tunics?

This is Vogue 8434, a pattern I added to my stash recently – partly because I was thinking about shirts for the summer, and partly because Vogue were having a sale.

In my giant fabric mountain I have nine metres of linen – three metres each of black, white and purple. I also have three metres each of matching cotton lawn. This was originally earmarked for making three lined Regency-ish dresses to wear on a three-day trip to London next month.

I’d been wondering what to wear underneath the Regency dresses (more bloomers? Long, loose trousers?) and then I remembered that I have these Gossypium yoga trousers in black, white and purple. The purple ones used to be pale pink, but I dyed them in the same wash as the purple cotton lawn, so now they’re a perfect match! I could make three of these tunics in linen… or in lawn… or in linen with floaty lawn sleeves…

Question is, which am I going to get more wear out of – three Regency-ish dresses, or three long linen tunics…?

(And more to the point, what shoes am I going to wear?!)

Black and White

This is Vogue 1290.

The copyright date on the pattern envelope is 1993 (can you tell?), but I probably bought it in 1997 when I was given a new sewing machine as my graduation present.

The pattern is for a shirt, jacket, dress, coat-dress and trousers. It’s been in my possession for around 14 years and, despite the fact that I love it to death, it remains uncut. There’s a Vogue 40% discount promotion in the UK at the moment, and I’m actually contemplating re-buying this pattern because the size I have is probably a little on the small side for me now. Yes, I do realise that it’s completely bonkers to buy a second copy of a pattern that I haven’t made in fourteen years. No, that won’t necessarily stop me.

I dragged this pattern out of its box because I’m going through another one of those phases where I think that I will somehow magically be a much more stylish person if I simply give the entire contents of my wardrobe to charity (not the shoes, obviously) and start again. This pattern was clearly bought during another one of those phases.

I think I mostly bought it for the coat-dress (view C), which I’d intended to sew in black velvet as per the pattern envelope. It’s likely that I realised how much I hate sewing velvet before I attempted to make this, and changed my mind. I might have enough taffeta in the stash to make a pretty evening version, but I don’t tend to be invited to the kinds of occasions that would make a taffeta coat-dress a necessity in my wardrobe.

I do love the ruffled sleeves and the giant collar, although they already look rather dated. And if I didn’t need a pair of giant “novelty georgette” trousers in all those years of being a goth, I probably don’t need a pair now. Probably.

But if I made this outfit, clearly I could swish around stately homes in the sunshine, my coat and cuffs billowing out behind me as I strode elegantly through the grounds. Which I think has just hit the nail on the head of why I have so many garments in my wardrobe that I never wear. I fall in love with the pattern envelope, or with the fabric, and make things for an imaginary lifestyle that I’m never going to have. (I do this with knitting, too.) And then I wander about in jeans and t-shirts all the time, feeling scruffy.

So, it looks as though this pattern’s going back on the shelf.

I still might go ahead and buy the bigger size though, just in case.

A step ahead

I walked past my local branch of Hobbs yesterday, and spotted this lovely pink dress in the window.

Then I came home and looked in my wardrobe at my pink party dress, which has a very similar keyhole-and-knot detail on the back. Now I don’t need to covet the Hobbs dress, and have thereby saved myself £169. Bargain!

Repeating Patterns

Back in April 2009 I made a pair of trousers using Vogue pattern 8367. (Now out of print.)

In October 2009 I went looking for a jacket pattern, and came across one which included a pair of trousers that I liked. The pattern was Vogue 8604, which looked remarkably similar to Vogue 8367.

Today I went searching for a pattern for high-waisted trousers, which is something I do fairly often, and came across the one above – Vogue 8717.

Is it just me, or are all these trousers actually exactly the same pattern?

Perhaps I should take a hint – stop looking for new trouser patterns and just make another pair from the one I’ve already got!

On Short Hair

Written c. 1998 by Joan Juliet Buck, the editor-in-chief of French Vogue from 1994-2001:

Hair is time.

Women with short hair always look as if they have somewhere else to go. Women with long hair tend to look as if they belong where they are, especially in California. Short hair takes a short time. Long hair takes a long time. Long hair moves faster than short hair. Long hair tells men that you are all woman, or a real woman, or at the very least a girl. Short hair always makes them wonder. Short hair makes children ask each other –usually at the school-yard gate, when parents are late– “Are you a boy or girl?” Men married to women with short hair should not have affairs with women who have long hair kept up with many little pins and combs. Once you have cut your hair you have to remember to wear lipstick, but you can put away the brush, elastics, and the black barrettes in the form of shiny leaves with rhinestone hearts. When you cut your hair you lose a nose and gain a neck. A neck is generally better than a nose. It does not need to be powdered, except on extreme occasions. It does, however, need to be washed more often.

With short hair you suddenly dislike the month of March, when the wind blows down the back of your neck. With short hair you begin to crave pearl necklaces, long earrings, and a variety of sunglasses. And you brush your teeth more often. Short hair removes obvious femininity and replaces it with style. When it starts growing out a little and losing its style, you have to wear sunglasses until you can get it to the hairdresser. That’s why you need a variety. Short hair makes you aware of subtraction as style. You can no longer wear puffed sleeves or ruffles; the neat is suddenly preferable to the fussy. You eye the tweezers instead of the blusher. What else can you take away? You can’t hide behind short hair. Your nape is exposed. Men put their hands around your neck instead of stroking your long locks. You can only pray they have friendly intentions. The backs of your ears show, your jaw line is clear to anyone watching, and you realize –perhaps for the first time– how wide the expanse of skin is between cheekbone and ear.

You may look a little androgynous, a little unfinished, a little bare. You will look elegant, as short hair requires you to keep your weight slightly below acceptable levels. However, the first time you wear a bathing suit with short hair, you will feel exceptionally naked. People who used to look straight at you will love you in profile. Short hair makes others think you have good bones, determination, and an agenda. The shape of your skull is commented on, so are its contents. They can pick you out in a crowd, and you can be recognized from behind, which can be good or bad. But your face is no longer a flat screen surrounded by a curtain: the world sees you in three dimensions.

Chase to the cut.

I’m slightly concerned about the references to washing your neck and brushing your teeth – I hope I do those things often enough already! I also have absolutely no intention of keeping my weight “slightly below acceptable levels”, whatever that means. But I am absolutely loving having very short hair.

I’ve had short-ish hair for quite a while now. Like many women I grew it a little longer for my wedding in 2009, but almost exactly a year later I bought myself a set of clippers and simply shaved it all off. Not as short as Agyness Deyn’s hair in the photo above – I cropped it down to a grade 8, which is about an inch long. Now I’m in the process of growing myself a sort of a mohawk – keeping the sides at about a grade 3, and leaving the crown to grow until I find myself bored of it.

The most frequent comments from other people have been “you’re so brave” and “you have a lovely-shaped head”, which is a bit of a weird one – I mean it’s not as though I had anything to do with the shape of my own skull! I have been surprised by the level of maintenance that’s required by having hair so short. It really needs to be washed every single day, whereas slightly longer hair often looks better on a day when it hasn’t been. I also find myself shaving the sides every couple of weeks, simply to keep it from looking as though I couldn’t be bothered. I don’t wear earrings or make-up any more often than I would have done before I shaved my head, and I’m not really fussed if passers-by can’t tell whether I’m male or female. Why do they need to know?

Also, Joan? I’ll damn well wear ruffles if I want to, short hair or not.

Floaty Velvet Skirt

Vogue 1170

This is Vogue 1170, another Rachel Comey pattern. I actually made this one first, and it inspired me to try the pink party dress.

You might recognise the design of the back – it’s pretty much identical to the dress, including the not-invisible zip! (This one wasn’t supposed to be invisible, but it should still be less visible than this.) I didn’t bother with the hem facing on this one – because the velvet has a slight stretch to it, I exaggerated the flared hem by simply stretching the fabric as I ran it through the overlocker.

Vogue 1170

You can’t really see the details on the front, but the skirt has the same angled seams as the dress. It also has tiny little pockets, hidden in the seam of the waistband. I don’t know that I’d bother with those next time. Normally I’m all in favour of pockets, but they were fiddly to make and they’re too small to hold anything useful!

You’ll just have to trust me that this one looks much better on a real person with a real bottom, than it does on my dress form.

Pink Party Dress

Vogue 1161

This is Vogue 1161, a Rachel Comey designer pattern.

I think this ranks as the most technically complicated thing I’ve ever made (look at those right-angled seams on the front!), and I have to say that I’m rather proud of it.

Yes, there are things I’d change (mostly in the fit of the bodice), and things I’m not too pleased with (the hem facing and the not-very-invisible zip), but overall I’m very pleased with how this came out. Plus it does actually fit, which is always a bonus when you’ve spent two days making a dress!

Vogue 1161

My favourite part of this dress is the back. The knot makes the construction rather complicated, as it affects the order in which you have to assemble all the parts. But it looks so pretty! The keyhole back is just high enough that you can wear an ordinary bra underneath. This is always good, because any dress that requires specialist underwear almost invariably never gets worn. I also love the little flare at the back of the skirt. So pretty and so flattering, although a bit of a tricky one to hem.

The centre back seam isn’t as wonky as it looks, honest. I had to take a couple of inches out of the back of the bodice. This made a curved seam which fits me really well, but my dress form less so. I’m also fairly happy with the zip. It’s not as invisible as I’d have liked, but this was the first time I’d used an invisible zip (in 14 years of sewing!), so I think allowances can be made. I was very glad that I managed to line up the seams at the waist so neatly though.

I wore this out to a friend’s birthday party the day I finished it, and it coped well with the rigours of dancing and eating cake. It’s a little shorter than I’d normally wear, but this one will definitely be coming out of the wardrobe on special occasions!

Vogue 2787

Vogue 2787

Remember the dress I made for the Vintage Vogue competition?

The deadline was today, so yesterday after work Paul and I rushed out to take some pictures. This is the one that I sent off to accompany my entry.

Vintage Vogue

Vogue 2787

I think this is going to be my entry to the Vintage Vogue competition. I’m not 100% certain whether it’s finished, or whether the seams go on the inside or the outside. I’m going to wear it and live with it for a bit before I decide. I also need to take lots of photos, which I’ll send off for the competition.

I realise that this doesn’t look like a terribly spectacular dress, especially not for entering a competition. But what I wanted to do was to keep the 1940s detailing (the gathering and the curving seams on the front), but translate them into a dress that would be comfortable and wearable and modern. I also wanted to break a few rules.

The pattern envelope says that the design isn’t suitable for stretch fabrics, or stripes. So that decision was easily made! Stripey viscose jersey. I eliminated all the fastenings and facings, drafted out the darts, and chopped off a rather drastic twelve inches from the hem. The stripes are matched at the centre back and side seams, but they can’t be matched on the front (which is why the design’s considered not suitable for stripes). I decided that putting the seams on the outside would draw attention to the structure of the dress, and also make it less noticeable that the stripes don’t match up. But then I turned the dress “inside out”, so the seams are on the inside, and I rather liked it. I think I’d be happy to wear it either way around, so I’m calling it reversible.

I feel as though it looks a bit boring, now it’s done. I don’t think it says “competition winner”, anyway. But hey. I’ve got a nice new dress, and I think it’ll be lovely for work if I wear it over a pair of black trousers. There’s still a month or so before the competition ends. That should give me time to decide whether I’m going to enter this dress, or maybe make something else.