A 1950s winter coat

I don't do 20th century. Why? Because it's a bit too close, and really hard for me to admire. I have an awe of Edwardian, but don't talk to be about anything from 1910-1930. I can get on board with the 30s, and 40s, mostly for the shoes and dresses, and then the 50s was made for big-hipped lassies like me. Then the next 40 years is a write off. So when I was looking for a jacket pattern amongst the patterning giants and found a vintage one straight from the 50s, I jumped.

This is actually one of the only every-day-wearable things I've completed. I made a few cotton dresses as my first ever sewing projects, and a few other disastrous things in the 3 years since, but mostly it's historical, making for an event only type of thing. It all started with me needing a new winter coat. I'm talking tailored wool blends you get on the High street at his time of year, but there has been a dearth of things that suit me for the last few years. Skater skirts have gone by the way side, shoved to the fashion graveyard by the a-line, which suits me like a black eye. And it's taken coats with it. Gone are the shapely fit-and-flare that is so kind to my figure, replaced with the shapeless, boxy jackets, aptly given the name longline. Well, I don't have any long lines, just the curvy kind, and believe me if I wore a shapeless coat like that I'd look like a road sign with legs.

I'm an amateur seamstress, and despite my hiccups here and there I have made some quite nice things. I've even made a regency spencer, a shorter kind of jacket. If there were no jackets in the shops that I wanted, why not have a go at making one myself? I've made corsets, crinolines, bustles, and whole Victorian ensembles, why couldn't I make a jacket from the 50s? Well...I'd soon find out.

Sewing clothes is not tailoring winter coats. It's similar, but not the same. But let me start at the beginning.

Fabric!! We all love fabric shopping, buying things for that never ending "stash" but since becoming a cash strapped student I can't afford to splurge on fabrics that are nice but are destined to go unused in the stash for years to come. I made a new rule with myself that I would only buy fabric that I needed, with a specific project I was either currently or going to work on. The real story behind this jacket is that I had already bought another one, from a different pattern provider, but when I moved house (oh yeah, did I mention that?) I lost it, along with another really awesome pattern for some fabulously flared trousers. I was sad, and went to buy it again, but just couldn't help myself looking at the other patterns again, and that;s when I came across this one from McCalls from 1956. Do you have that possessive voice in your head, a bit like Golum but has had a Strepsil? Mine!!

Back to fabric. I wanted a wool blend, but wool confuses me. Wool twill, wool suiting, wool merino, boiled wool, what the f**k are you supposed to use?! I ended up going to one of my usual suppliers (Sherwoods fabrics, I love the fabrics, so beautiful, just wish it wasn't so expensive), who comments on the fabrics they supply by giving examples of the drape or the feel, and what you can make from it. I went to their wool section and looked through, and my God were they expensive. But it turns out wool is expensive, even the poly blends. It didn't matter though because I found the mother of all wools, no wool, no matter how soft or perfectly woven, will ever beat this one, because....it's tartan!!!

Isn't it the best thing since sliced bread?! It was love at first sight, and it wasn't as expensive as a lot of the other wools I'd seen. So it's a wool tweed, not the softest but not prickly like some boiled can be, and it is 100% wool. I cringed a bit at the lightness of the colour. I'm a very practical person when it comes to clothes I wear every day, and I never make anything white because I just won't be able to keep it clean, and the same goes with anything light. But this wasn't going to be a dog walking coat, it was going to be worn to work, and the occasional times I went out socially, so no strenuous over use. And come on, tartan!!

Ironically this coat was more expensive to make than if I'd bought the only fit-and-flare that ASOS stocks this year, also of an equally impractical camel colour. But that's not the point, is it? I now have a jacket that fits me specifically, not very well in some places, but perfect for a first attempt.

I did a mock-up with some old bed sheets retired from their original purpose, and as always it was too big, and shockingly shapeless for something from the waist fitting 50s. The jacket is made up of 8 panels (it doesn't feel like that many); two front, two side front, two side back, and two back. You could possibly forgo the CB seam, but this wool was expensive, and I was sticking to the instructions.

And just a minor tangent at this point. WTF is with tissue paper for patterns? I've bitched about this before, but...just...why? Tracing it onto pattern paper is an absolute bi**h, and even if you didn't do that cutting tissue paper is also annoying, and let's not even talk about long-term storage, that stuff rips like wet paper.

I have one saving grace as a seamstress. I'm quite good at measuring by eye. This comes in handy when doing hems, and with alterations. I estimated it needed taken in at the waist by an inch or two, and took the seams in accordingly. This is when the 8 panel nonsense becomes a pain because you could just take in the side seams, but then the fronts and backs wouldn't be shaped correctly, so you have to take in the same amount from every seam! I think I left the CB, as this was straight in the first place whereas the others had definite curves to them. I managed. I took it in more at the bust, but it wasn't enough, as it turned out, but nothing major, just means I have more than enough room for my large woolly jumpers. I shortened the length because I don't really suit lengths beneath the knee/on the calf, so this jacket now sits delightfully above my knees.

Then came the scary time for cutting the fabric. I always get nervous when cutting out expensive fabric like this wool, the silk for the 1860s crinoline ball gown, and no doubt next year's natural form era gown. The instructions state to interline your fashion fabric, and I was dubious about this step because I thought it would add too much weight. I mean wool tweed isn't exactly chiffon. I quickly looked online to find some justification why I didn't need to do it (bearing in mind I didn't want to spend more money on interlining fabric). I ended up deciding it was better to do it and learn than miss it and regret. Thankfully one of the plentiful things in my stash is cotton, more specifically floral cottons, mostly twill, that have been there for years with no hope of use. I thought they'd do as well as anything else. They were really pretty cottons as well, it's a shame they'll never be seen.

I wish you could see my face in the above picture, it looks so happy and proud. You can see the interlining fabric on the collar...such a waste.

There are also some issues with the fit of this jacket at the bust. I think it's too big, just a little, but I never noticed it in the pictures, and it doesn't feel that roomy on, so I left it.

The side front piece is split into a top and bottom half. The pocket is inserted into the seam between top and bottom. it sounds complicated but was very easy to do. I didn't pattern match this jacket because it's another skill I've yet to tackle, and really this was the first project I used bold patterns on. It is on my to do list.

I put in the sleeves, which were a joy. When I was doing the mock-up I couldn't make head or tail of the instructions for the cuff, and ended up giving up. Yet when I was reading the same instructions a week or two later they fell into place. Now I have the cutest little cuff, and what was better was that the sleeves were a perfect fit, lengthwise, which is rare (I have long arms). Because I had failed with the cuff at the mock-up stage I had initially decided not to do it at all and just cut the excess off the sleeve after it was fitted in. This wasn't necessary, and I was lucky that they fit with the cuff.

They are a bit long, but rather too long than too short. I also decided against shoulder pads because, well, I don't particularly like them. Let's just hope they don't serve some function.

Next was the lining. I decided to go for this paisley patterned lining material that's so popular these days, you can get it in any fabric shop, and it comes in every colour under the sun. I think I purchased the red a few years ago, this time it was a dark-ish blue (midnight blue?)

I had some trouble trying to figure out which side was the right one, and I think I got it, but if I didn't at least it's the same on all panels.

Once all of that was assembled it was time to join the two layers together. I should say at this juncture the main body of the jacket is heavy, as you would expect with that much wool. You actually have to cut 2 of the front panels, and one acts as a facing for the collar/opening. You sew around the collar, and are supposed to sew along the bottom of the front panel, but I couldn't figure out how this worked since the seam allowance was shorter than the hem length for the coat, so I only did the side seams, and fudged the bottom.

The only problem with this jacket is that it has a floating lining. You're meant to baste the lining to the main body at the shoulder and underarm, then finish the lining at the cuffs and the hem. In hindsight I should have hemmed the lining before it went in, but I didn't, and no matter how hard i tried (because it's a curved hem), it was almost impossible to hem nicely when it was all attached. As a result I only attached it at the seams, so there's a floating lining at the hem.

I also didn't attach the lining at the cuffs, but it keeps on getting caught on my Fitbit so that's something I'll need to do. Overall I'm really proud of this coat, and is it just me or does the tartan wool remind you of 1950s? Only when it was made did I think that.

I'm terrible with photoshoots in that I've only ever done one for my 1870s ensemble, and it was my friend who took the pictures. It was a really nice day, and it was Bath so they couldn't have gone wrong. However, where I live all my friends are married with their own lives, and I don't own a decent camera, so everything I've ever made has never been photographed properly. I wanted this jacket to be different. Other period pieces will make a nightmare of a shoot because of how different they look to modern clothing, but the 1950s is still in style. I do plan on getting a proper camera after Christmas, but I had to settle for my phone this time. Thankfully my new house is 200 years old and has a wonderfully large back garden, and the day of the photoshoot was pre-winter sun, not a cloud in sight. the bad thing about my phone's camera is...well, it's a phone camera and i was using the front lens. I also had it strapped to a fence post in the back garden with an elastic bobble for your hair (I'm resourceful). As a result the sun blocks out the definition of the pattern of the coat, but hopefully after christmas i'll be able to get better ones. I'd also just had my hair cut and curled and it turned out very 1930s (I know too early), but my hair is never that nice so I rushed about to get these pictures as soon as I came back.
The shoes were prety perfect in my mind too. I had forgotten I'd bought them until I was looking for something to wear to a family wedding and found them on the shoe rack (I only ever wear one pair of shoes, the rest for fancy occasions/re-enacting are up the stairs).

A natural form era corset

I hate corsets. Have I said that enough on this blog? I absolutely hate making them, and they never give me the shape I want. To be fair I've only ever made about 5, this being my 5th, so I don't know what I expect. My 4th was good, it was the Victoria kit by SewCurvy, and it was a dream. Unfortunately because that had gone so well I thought I was a friggin expert and went straight onto the advanced pattern, courtesy of Ageless patterns.

The above is the pattern I used. It's Ageless Patterns 1876 corset for Cuirass bodices. I thought because the beginner's kit had gone together so easily I was a big girl and could go straight for the HA ones. What was even better was that this pattern came in multiple different sizes, so there was no need to scale it up myself, which at this point I had never done.

Oh my, how wrong I was. I had done gussets before for my first bustle era ensemble foundations, and realised there were as many ways to put them in as there were ice-cream flavours in existence. This pattern offered yet a new way, which didn't work for me.

I began as any sensible costumer, by making a mock-up. The instructions were...well....sparse, but that didn't stop me. I could have sworn I took pictures of the mock-up stage, but my laptop died, as did most of the pics that weren't on Dropbox, so I can't find them/don't have them. All I can say is that it was roomy. I could have fit a watermelon or two in the bust, as well as the girls.

The bust has two gores, and there is one hip gusset at the front, and another at the back. I reduced both hip gussets, and took one of the bust ones out altogether, instead widening the front most one. Why did I do this? The placement of the second one ended up being nearly under my armpit, and I couldn't understand what exactly it was doing. My girls are quite small for my size, and that gusset was doing nothing. I always have problems with the bust area in patterns, so this was no surprise, but I couldn't be bothered faffing around with so many gores.

Also, it took me days to figure out how to insert them. All of the gores I've ever inserted have been in a slit in the fabric, but these are all between seams. It's hard to explain this pattern without a picture, but one panel would be smooth, and then the other would have a straight step towards the pattern piece where the bottom of the gusset was supposed to go. Yet the gussets weren't flat at the bottom themselves. How the hell you were supposed to get them in is still kind of beyond me.. The very talented owner of Before the Automobile blog made a much more successful corset than mine from the same pattern and managed it fine.

After the alterations it fit well, and it even gave me hip definition, (thank you hip gores).

The materials I decided to use for this were so stupid I don't know how I ever thought it was a good idea. This project was ambitious from start to finish, and my inflated ego about corsets didn't help. Arrogance doesn't make life better, kids. I was enamoured of the lovely silk covered silk corsets from costumers like Izabela of Prior Attire, and I wanted one of my own. My ego wasn't completely out of control because I knew I'd make a mistake at some point and so didn't want to fork out the money for silk. I went for poly satin. I know, I can hear the disapproving shakes of your heads from here.

I knew how to make a silk covered corset from the blogs I'd read on the subject, and the FB posts I'd seen. I still used coutil, trusty old coutil, and kind of flatlined the satin with the coutil, and treated them as one layer. That was where the problems started. The satin moved about like buggery, and there was already ripples in the pieces before I sewed them together. That's satin for you, no matter poly or silk.

The busk I used for this was true to pattern. The fabled spoon busk that started to become more frequently used in this period. It's wider at the bottom, and from what I understand is meant to give some more tummy control, which Lord knows I need in buckets. It goes in like any other busk. I was still proud.

I managed to wrangle in all the gussets, and put the eyelets in the back so I could check the fit. And shockingly enough it was still too big.

The office manager sleeping on the job

I had made some minor alterations after the second and final mock-up, mostly because the one-gusset was a little too snug in its support of the girls, but it wasn't anything major enough to fiddle with the fit everywhere. I must've forgotten to reduce something here or there. The fit illuminated the problems of the dreaded wrinkling. I suppose it was inevitable really considering my beginner status as a corset maker, but it's still annoying. If I was to do it again, which I won't be doing in a hurry, I would iron in fusible interfacing to the satin before attaching it to the coutil.

And it was way too long at the front, like not going to be able to sit down long. I had known that in the mock-ups, but had been too afraid to do anything with the length after my disastrous corset from last year that was too short. It was easily fixed, as was the fit.

Boning channels were sewn, based on the pattern on the original, but with a few alterations.

I was kind of hoping the wrinkling would go away when the bones went in, but only some of it did.

As the colour was purple, I, of course, had to bind it with black poly satin bias binding to complete the look. Then it was time for the final fitting.

Just about parallel lacing, potentially not so much, but look at those hip gussets!

Ugh, those wrinkles on the bust gussets!!

The wrinkles prevailed, but looking at it after a month or two makes it seem a little better, and not bad considering it was my first time working with poly satin. I do like the shape of this corset, especially giving my hips room to move.

There is another thing I've noticed in hindsight. I showed the finished pics to my seamstress friend in disgust and shame, and she asked me if I was sure it went up high enough at the bust. Looking at it now it does seem a bit on the low side, but I'm not spilling out. From what I can tell from the one Before the Automobile did hers curves up at the sides, so if I ever try this pattern again I might alter it to do the same, because I do look like I'm in danger of some spillage. I think the whole thing needs lengthened from the waist up by an inch or two because the bottom of those bust gussets are nearly at my waist!

Another lesson in corsetry.

An 1870s First Bustle era day dress

See the post on my evening attire. This year I had planned enough time to make a completely separate daytime ensemble that I could wear to breakfast on the Sunday morning, and so it turned out for the rest of the day.

I have real problems with colour. I'm not colourblind, but I just don't understand which colours "go" together. I will put anything together, and I mean anything, I am not averse to a skirt and top of completely different prints. It's what I find so challenging about some Victorian ensembles where there is more than one colour to play with. For my evening gown it was easy because I started with the teal floral fabric and quite by accident I put a light blue cotton sample next to it and the lightbulb lit. I had no such luck with the daytime ensemble.

What's a lass to do? One option was to make the skirt and bodice out of the same colour. Boring (in my opinion unless it's trimmed to kingdom come, and we know how I felt about that). The second, and period accurate, would be to use the same colour but in different shades, like royal blue and light blue, purple and lavender, etc. As much as I think it looks nice, it presented its own kind of problem. What colour did I want in the first place?

I took to the fashion plates, as any good costumer does. If you can't match your colours then you can bet that the people who coloured those plates did.

The above is what I found. I love the dress on the right for several reasons, and it was almost on my bucket list of things to make, but instead of faffing around with that pattern I took the colours. Who knew? Green and purple go together really well. The strange thing was that I'd seen cottons that looked exactly the same as the plate. Klona cotton is a make of what I believe to be quilting cotton, and I'v worked it with it before on my atrocious 1880s skirt. I know how sturdy it is, so perfect for underskirt and mounting trim onto, not that it was in much danger of being overloaded by the lazy seamstress here.

Ice Frappe Klona cotton

goes nicely with Purple Klona cotton

So thanks to a fashion plate I had my colours.

I had 2 daytime designs, but only time to make one. The second, which is on my ever growing bucket list of projects, involves making a pinafore thing-y, like in the fashion plates below. I'm not quite sure if this is a separate sleeveless dress that slips over the bodice and skirt, or it's similar to the one later on in the natural form era when it's a dress with princess seams, but the sleeves and collar match the underskirt. I'll experiment when the time comes. The other was more similar to the TV polonaise pattern I'd bought so I used my hybrid evening bodice pattern and heightened the neckline. I wanted a square neckline on this as well, just not as revealing (hah!) as my evening one was meant to be.

Pinafore-y thing on the left

I can't remember if I made a mock-up of the daytime bodice. I definitely remember making some adjustments because of my sloping shoulders, and the height of the neckline, but can't remember doing that on muslin. I also can't find any pictures of a mock-up. Whoops. I was using the same bodice pattern as the evening one, it was just a matter of being generous with the neckline and then cutting.
 There was one more design change on the polonaise that I wanted to try, and that was the two pointed end.

There are other ones similar that can be seen on my pinterest board. I should have drafted a pattern, but why do that when you can just cut once it's been made up? It worked, this time, but the points are too pointy, ironcally.

polonaising

One small issue I did have was the back. It's two pieces, a bodice back, and then a skirt attached to a waistband in the form of some twill tape and tacked onto the lining of the back bodice. I liked having the illusion of back tails from a bodice and a separate skirt, but for a while the little tails of the back didn't sit right, and it didn't help that I'd lined then in bright white cotton. My tacking stitches weren't very good wither because the lining was cotton lawn, not the strongest of fabrics, and the waistband had 2 layers of fabric and the weight of the polonaise, so I ended up doing tiny stitches all the way through the bodice. All of this was not helped by the fact that I didn't place it on straight and so in places it's quite crooked.

Testing trim

I spoke in my last post about flatlining the back panel of the polonaise. I used silk organza (more expensive) for the evening one, and I had heard so much about cotton organdy I had to try it with the day one. Holy hell is this stuff stiff! It made the entire ensemble hard to handle, and even harder to manoevre under the machine. I am blaming the organdy on the back panel for the awful way it went on, I swear the back panel can stand up by itself, but it did what it said on the tin, it kept those poufs in place, and even gave me the oomph I wanted out the back. What great stuff, it not a little unwieldy.

I was already decided on what I wanted to use for trim because as I have a lot of spare time trolling around on the internet I find things I can use for sewing, and trim is one of them. I have a lot of bookmarks for different projects, and whenever I'm casually looking I'll bookmark it to come back to when I'm actually completing the project in mind. That's what happened with the trim for the neckline. It is just yards of gathered chiffon, which I probably could have made myself with much fiddling and not nearly enough satisfaction. I was really chuffed with it as I thought it was perfect for the 1870s, at least in my mind.

The sleeves were a bit strange. I'm not entirely convinced I'm doing armholes correctly. I always, always have to widen them, just like I have to take in the bust on all patterns. I think it's because I'm not entirely sure where the armhole is meant to go. I know it's not meant to be right under your arm, but how far away from your armpit is it supposed to be? I probably should have googled this long before now...It is meant to be a smooth set-in sleeve, and can you believe this is the first sleeve I've ever done without gathers? In every project I've always gathered it, last year's Victorian ball, and with all of the regency stuff, it's just period appropriate, but with this polonaise the sleeves were meant to be smooth. Because I played around with the width of the armhole I was kind of afraid I had mucked the sleeve as well, but it turned out that it was only a few mm larger than the armhole. Thanks to Jennifer at historical sewing, I simply made a small tuck at the top of the shoulder, and voila, I had a smooth set-in sleeve.

The pattern's sleeves were those bell-shaped ones that are just dying to be dipped in tea or soup, and up until the last minute I was going to do them, but I really prefer a more tailored look. I love the 1870s, but there's something about the floufs and girliness that I just don't get on with, bell sleeves is one of them. They're nice to look at, but I am the Empress of practicality, hence the pockets in everything this year. I want to be able to eat and do what I like without my sleeves waving in everything. And besides, the cuffs of 1872-1875 are epic. I compromised and made a sleeve all of my own devising. Two rectangular pieces of cotton, sewn together, and then gathered once near the top and bottom and then attached to the sleeve.

Ok, ok, you got me. I wasn't clever, and believe it or not the cuff wasn't intentional. I have quite long arms, longer than average, and so I have to lengthen sleeves, which is normal. However I don't do mock-ups f sleeves, I simply lay the paper pattern on my arm, putting the top where it should go into the bodice and then see roughly how many inches I need to add on. Goodness, I can hear the tuts and head shakes from here. I know, there are plenty of easier ways, but you try to measure the length of your arm with no help. I do have one talent, and that's I'm able to, quite accurately, tell the length of something. It works great for hems. I look down, say that's roughly so many inches, and do you know I've not been wrong yet. I do check, of course, by pinning the hem first, but as I said, not been wrong yet.

Unfortunately my method of measuring sleeve length didn't pan out. I don't think I held the sleeve high enough on my arm because when I set it into the armhole it was too short. there were two possible solutions. Cut it to a 3/4 length sleeve, which I wasn't sure was quite as historically accurate for a day ensemble. Or...add a cuff! And I must admit, best decision I made. I loved this cuff to pieces, and it looked so good.

 For the trim I bought some mint green satin ribbon and traced around the neckline, the same way I'd use it to cover the gathering stitches of the cuffs. This ended up being extended to around the hemline, which ended up working. I have to say I am a lot more proud of the day ensemble than the evening, because of those extra finishing touches.

The bodice was flatlined with cotton lawn, since I'm swimming in the stuff, and was boned on side and back seams, not the front darts because they were too narrow and it hadn't worked out with the evening one, and the pattern was the same on both. I also had the same issue with this belt as I had with the evening one in that I can't seem to take a measurement over garments properly, so it had to have an oriental style fastening at the back, which was ok because of the decoration.

This was my first real photoshoot outside of my home with anything I've made. I keep meaning to take a camera out one day and take photos of myself outside, but it's something I've either never had the inclination, clothes, or guts to do. It was really nice to give this ensemble the setting it deserved because this has got to be on of the favourite things I've ever made. A friend I met at the ball and I went around Bath after breakfast dressed in our Victorian clothes, and you know what, it was so fun. The incessant pictures were...unsettling, but I had expected that, even getting stopped and asking for a picture was acceptable. You can't stick out and not expect to get stopped every now and again.

But the cherry on top was that we went into this chocolate shop on the high street we hadn't had time to go into, but wanted to, and they were so impressed they gave us a 10% discount. Worth it!

And finally, the hat. I didn't make this, but it is from the very lovely Farthingale Historical Hats. I bought it when I was at TORM in March, and it just so happened to be purple. Don't you love it when things are meant to be?

Without further rambling here are pictures from sunny Bath in May of my First Bustle Era day gown.

I'm not entirely sure whether my actual face is more or less terrifying than no face

I can guarantee the owner has the most posed with Wysteria in Bath

It's just No.1 Royal Crescent...no big deal, I live here. You caught me on my way out to spend my husband's money