THAT OLD Sewing Pattern, McCalls 8246 from 1950

My motivation for sewing up a version of a sewing pattern that is older than me is weak today.  However, the prospect of removing some equally (not really) old fabric from my stash is encouraging.  The pattern is written for some type of fabric that was made back then.  The equivalent of it doesn't seem to be available now, but it can be approximated.  It is simply a tubular piece.  With the addition of one seam, this fabric should suffice:

Two yards of olive green Lyocell purchased a couple of years ago from JoAnns for $9.84. This may be 90% lyocell, 10% rayon, since there was another listing on their website that seemed similar.  It has a twill finish and should be washed cold and hung to dry.  Luckily, there was a remnant of the same, amounting to 3/4 yard for $1.84. The total cost is $11.68.  There is a button from old button stash, dating back to the same era as the pattern, and recently purchased cotton batting for the shoulder pads.  It is nice that the pattern includes the pieces to construct the shoulder pads.

Cutting was a bit difficult. Between the slippery fabric that is not quite on grain, the sturdy twill that fought the rotary cutter, and the multiple notches, (when cut outward--my preference), each piece is a slow process.  It is amusing that the notches for the shoulder pads are proportionally smaller since the seam allowance is only 1/4".  The tiny notches, so "twee", make these pieces look like parts of doll clothes.  

After Stephanie's exhortations to trace vintage patterns, I feel a bit guilty about cutting.  However, since this is a one-size pattern, the cutting does little harm since both cutting lines are preserved.   After all, if a sewist is using a rotary cutter, having each piece cut out is a time saver.  The only loss is the word "Margin" or "Margen" that is printed outside the pattern pieces.  That term is superfluous in my opinion, especially since it gets cut away.

Sewing began with the body, contrary to the instructions, which start with the yoke.  The front and back tucks were sewn, the gathers placed and then the slit was bias bound.  Applying bias binding around a short slit cut into the front was a bit tricky, but it is mostly machine sewn.  Rather than hand sewing the wrong side as per instructions, this one was attached first on the wrong side and top stitched on the right side.  A little hand sewing finished off the bottom turn after it was mitered in on the machine.

Completing the yoke assembly uncovered an omission in the instructions.  There is no mention of stay-stitching the neck prior to sewing the facing to it.  Then, there is nothing about understitching the facing.  The first is a problem, because forgetting to stay stitch is a repetitive habit for me.  If the facing doesn't fit, it is usually because I did not stay stitch the neckline before pinning the facing to it.  Understitching is second nature to me for some reason--never forgotten.  Otherwise the assembly was per instructions, with the exception of an extra step of machine overcasting the raw facing edge.  The instructions have you overcasting by hand.  Since that doesn't fall within my limited hand-sewing experience, it was deemed inferior to machine in this instance.  The other hand work, tacking the facing down, did fall within my experience.  

Attaching the completed yoke to the body was simple, no difference in instructions from these to current practices--gather, sew, press, top stitch.  There was a little hand sewing of the facings and it was done.  The buttonhole was machine sewn.  The instructions for a bound buttonhole are good but require cutting through the facing followed by hand or machine finishing.   With the thin material, I opted for a machine sewn buttonhole for reinforcement.

Now that the dress is assembled, pockets and sleeves are next.  On  trying it on, I noted that the yoke is too shallow.  Higher smaller busts were the norm back in 1950.  Also, the sleeve openings are tiny, only 6" deep. They have to be slashed at the lower corners, which will add a couple of inches.  

The process confused me twice.  First, I was unsure as to which direction the bias binding on the slit lies toward.  It sits toward the sleeve on the right side and towards the center on the left side (the underside of the closure).  Second, the pocket lining is sewn to the pocket, creating a seam line that will be on the wrong side of the pocket.  Then the pocket is sewn together around all 4 edges, except for a gap at the bottom that is left open for turning.  Instead, the lining could be the same size as the pocket.  That would add a seam in place of the fold on the pocket top.  The pocket and lining could be cut out of one long strip that is folded over to form the lining.  This is something to consider on a second make.  The pockets are stiffer than the dress.  The instructions specify "lightweight hair canvas or cambric" for interfacing.  Based on those specifications and the outcome using featherweight interfacing, sheerweight might be better for the pockets.

Obviously, this a toile.  It costs less than $12, so in spite of the soft and luxurious feeling fabric, it could be another house dress.    It might be fun to redesign this one, adjusting the fit (it is too wide), the neck (it is too high), the wonky closure that doesn't match the edges up neatly, and the stiffly interfaced pockets.  It needs a special fabric that has drape, in a nice neutral.  So for now, it should look as much like the envelope illustration as possible in order to try all the features of the pattern.  Knowing what the pattern will produce is the first step in knowing how to change it.

Much of the reconstruction could be accomplished by adapting the pattern to a flat piece of fabric.  The pattern was written for a tubular material in a way that avoids cutting and seaming what was knitted or woven together.  As a result, the size of the tube is set.  The front and back tucks seek to reduce it some, but it is still too big for most, especially in 1950.  52" is too big for me.  Working with a separate back and front would make attaching the pockets much easier.  The sleeve could be sewn to the dress prior to closing the side seams and the sleeve and side seam could be sewn in one continuous seam.  Additionally, for looks and comfort the yoke should be a bit deeper, the neckline a bit lower, and the closure adjusted.   Length would be much shorter probably, depending on whether it is worn with a belt or not.  

Sleeves were an adventure.  There are three darts at the elbows--tiny darts.  Six dart seams later came the sleeve seams.  The first one was French seamed.  Unfortunately, the frayed edge showed through.  Perhaps the rotary cutter I used made the fabric fray more, or in an effort to be precise, the seam allowance wasn't trimmed sufficiently.  Either way, after hand trimming the second sleeve seam down to 1/8" or so, I realized that it was on the wrong side.  French seams are first sewn on the right side, then on the wrong side, encapsulating the raw edge between the seams.  Since the seam was already trimmed, rather than ripping it out, I overcast the seam allowance.  At least it will let me compare the comfort of an overcast seam versus a French seam.  After all, the difference won't be noticeable from the right side.  In the end, my quickness in trimming a mis-sewn seam resulted in a difficulty in calculating where the actual seam should go after the trimming removed a portion of the seam allowance.  After several reseamings, it finally fit the cuff.

The sleeves I chose are finished with a facing at the bottom.  The others have a zipper.  The zippers would be so cute and practical in the narrow sleeves but this fabric is too soft to support a zipper.  Maybe a zipper will be in the next version.  Now the facings are in and under stitched.  It is odd that the instructions specify under stitching when they don't for the neck facings.  Maybe because the neck facings are hard to under stitch?  The sleeve facings were hand sewn to the sleeve, per instructions.

The sleeve insertion was a little difficult. The sleeve was 2" longer than the armhole.  However, as the pattern instructed, they fit evenly without easing once the bottom corners of the armholes are clipped, opening the armhole by another couple of inches.  A little stay stitching provided some reassurance in the clipping.   The slim sleeves provide a nice contrast to the oversized body.  What they need is a shoulder pad, at least according to the pattern.

The shoulder pad pattern pieces go together to form a pad that is 1 1/2" thick.  That thickness would have made a shoulder pad that was too prominent for my taste.  After altering the pattern pieces, the thickness was 1" fully plumped.  It should reduce some with the weight of the dress.  The pad consists of a layer of stiff linen (substituted for crinoline) and 6 layers of cotton batting.  Since the cotton batting is only about 1/8" thick, there are more layers than the three specified in the pattern.  The layers are all hand sewn together along the edges and the edges of the pad cover are overcast together.  

The second one was done a little more neatly and much more quickly.  They fit nicely.  Even though they are not as thick as the pattern would have them to be, the shoulder pads make a noticeable difference in the appearance of the dress.  However, shoulder pads, especially noticeable ones, are in style now, and not just on the fashion runways.  They are on television shows and fashion sites.  Will shoulder pads appear in everyday wear?  They will when I wear this dress.

It is blind hemmed on the machine, with a little hand sewing to neaten up the tucks.   Not only was the dress cut 6 inches shorter, the hem was a bit deeper.  The overall length is 41 1/2" from the very high back neck.

The belt makes it true to the illustration on the pattern envelope.  However, there is no matching belt, although there is enough material left over to make one.  That's a project for the future, an iffy future.  Truthfully, I will probably find it more comfortable without the belt.

The future of the shoulder pads is iffy as well.  They add something to the dress, but they tighten up the fit on the shoulders a little too much.  It's not a bad look, those nice even strong shoulders.

This is where I give them a shrug, hang the dress in my closet, and move on.  This pattern stays in my collection for now.  It will be fun to make some changes and try it again in a completely different fabric.

Leg Width in Simplicity 9272 Pants

Evaluating the utility of pants as part of my wardrobe pointed out a simple fact.  Knit pants are more comfortable than woven pants.  To further test the theory, another pair of knit pants was added to my closet.  This was a quick project made from leftover black summer-weight ponte.  There was just about a yard of the 60" wide fabric left after making the skirt.  The skirt is quite comfortable, but doesn't have pockets.  The pants do.  The pockets in this pant pattern are small, practically half-pockets, but they are large enough for car keys or a tissue--the essential pocket uses--perhaps even a cell phone.  The real advantage to the size is that the pockets do not sit over the middle of the front of the pants where they would disrupt the smooth fabric.  

The pants have an elastic waist with a (optional for me) drawstring.  The drawstring is very cute but would have required a trip to the store for eyelets, an eyelet tool, and black cord.  Rather than interrupt the quick project, I omitted the drawstring.  The only other outstanding characteristic of this pattern is the leg width.  Some who have made this pant pattern have opted to taper the legs.  Some have not.

Initially, I was shocked at how much volume there was in the legs.  Then I checked other pants patterns and found a similar width, about 20".  Now, my legs have no width to speak of.  My body measurements are average, somewhere in the 12 to 16 size range, but my arms and legs are quite twiggy.  For this reason, I wore pants, particularly pantsuits, almost exclusively during my career, mostly with straight legs.  

During the years, pants legs have gone from wide to bell bottom to straight to form fitting and now seem to be going back to straight.  Recently, pants for all occasions were influenced by athletic wear.  In fact, the old sweat pants featuring wide legs gathered at the ankle have been replaced by form fitting legs, almost leggings, with a cuff.  These are called joggers.  It's this style that I think has changed the perception of a properly fitting pant leg.  People expect the leg to taper in toward the ankle in some way, either gradually, like joggers, or suddenly, like barrel-legged pants or harem pants.  Expecting the more modern narrow legs made the relatively straight legs of Simplicity 9272 look really wide to me.

Admittedly, these pants legs look a little tapered in the photo of the front.  From the back, they look like straight legs. This is what bothered me initially.  However, my recent study of vintage patterns has changed my view of pants legs.  Wider legs don't look so strange anymore.  I am quite taken with this image of Amelia Earhart:

Those are just such nice pants!  The way they hang, the break over the shoes, the flat front, the slanted pockets--they have such nice features.  I have no idea what the fabric might be.  The era would have me to think it is wool.  Perhaps it is just heavy cotton, or even silk or rayon.  Regardless, that is the image that made it possible for me to feel comfortable in my new pants.

Additionally, my new sweater feels comfortable, and goes well with these pants.

The sweater was a combination of two patterns, the Fredrika cardigan for the charts and the Ashland pullover for the style.  I have knitted the Ashland before and liked the pattern, except for the wide swaths of stockinette between the stranded portions (that made the fabric pouf out between the patterning) and the steeks (that did not seem necessary).  This one was knitted without the steeks but otherwise followed the shaping for the sleeves.  The steeks are really not needed.  The yarn is all left over from other projects except for the light gray--that was salvaged from an old sweater, one I made several years ago.  The style and the fit was outdated.  Since it was knit without steeks, it could be ripped out to reuse the yarn.