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.

Sewing A Bigger Field Bag, Artist Version

The one field bag that I made last January is great for sock projects.  It has been in heavy use for the year.  In fact, there is a sock project in it right now that will go with me shortly for an appointment that guarantees a little wait time.  However, that project is a small repair that won't take long.  The only other knitting project on the go right now is a sweater.  That project is far along, with the sleeves and body attached together.  It simply won't fit into my field bag.  In order to bring it with me, there must be a larger bag.   I looked at the Town Bag, available like the Field Bag, as a pattern from Grainline, but it has a lot more pockets than I need in a knitting bag.  Realizing that led me to look at the fabric that came with my "artist" version of the field bag kit.  

The kit was a present from Christmas 2022.  This project used the Field Bag pattern again, along with the fabric that came with the kit, a canvas painted especially for the bag.  Additionally, it used a yard of duck cloth for the pockets and lining, a yard of webbing for the handles and a small part of a package of cord for the drawstrings.  The painted canvas was a couple of inches wider and longer than the pattern piece, leading me to believe that it could be made into a somewhat larger version of the field bag.  I was correct, but my math was off.  Using the same size pocket meant that the box edges didn't line up properly.

The pocket seam lines are not visible from the outside because they are sewn to a lining (the Field Bag pattern does not call for a lining).  The lining forms the back of the casing for the drawstrings, making it unnecessary to fold the bag fabric over to from the casing.  That makes the bag a little larger, too.  With all these changes, the pocket portion that delineates the fold lines for the bag should have been made larger.  It wasn't off by much, just enough to make the folding a little cumbersome.  However, the sizing is good.  This larger bag easily holds the sweater.  

The handles work very well. They are easy to grab and just long enough. The drawstring does not draw up much, simply because the painted fabric is so stiff.  The fabric was painted with something other than fabric paint.  The end effect is nice, but the fabric is scratchy and somewhat strange to touch.  Perhaps it will soften with use.  Between the stiffness of the outer fabric and the reinforcement of the duck cloth lining, the bag doesn't fall over, even when empty.

Sewing the Seventies with McCall's 5678

McCall's 5678 sounds like a made up pattern number--5,6,7,8--really, McCalls?  Maybe it's my lucky number?  However, the next number is not so encouraging.  There are 10 pattern pieces to the shirt, but two are interfacing pieces.  Of course, a standard shirt pattern with buttons, cuffs, and collar will have that many or more.  Since this is a "Henley" style, half-placket shirt, the front is all one piece.  That may make it simpler.  Simpler still is the absence of a pocket.  Never mind.  There's a similar pattern with a pocket.  It has short sleeves, which is why I didn't choose it for this flannel shirt.  This flannel is appropriate for winter/spring as it is a very light flannel.  That brings me to the details about the pattern and the fabric:  an almost flannel from a fancy New York fabric retailer, Fabrics and Fabrics.  

The plaid flannel yarn-dyed cotton shirting, yellow/teal, 4 1/2 yards, 42" wide, was purchased for a total of $37.80. The pattern is actually 1977, dangerously close to the 80s.  Even so, there are at least a couple of reasons to like the 1977 pattern.  For one, it has the cute little rulers printed on the lengthen/shorten lines. 

For another, the notches are marked and instructed to be cut to the outside of the cut lines, just as I learned to do when I began sewing and as I still prefer to do. 

Third, and this may be a dislike, it has the buttons on the right side.  I was going to change it but my general rule for a toile is to first make it as is and alter later to improve fit or correct problems.  As far as the other shirt pattern that is so similar, the one with the pocket, the buttons are on the left side as is usual for women's clothing.  The placement here must be a design choice.  However, the pattern layout drawings for M5678 also have the plackets cut on doubled fabric in some cases, even though the pattern pieces are marked Cut 1.  Since there is that small error in the layout, the reversed placket could be an error as well.  After some consideration, my final decision was to go with it as is.  Here's that other shirt pattern, the one with the pocket, such a cute pocket.

On the plus side of design in 5678, the shoulder seams sit forward and are enclosed in the back yoke.  Also, there's a collar stand but no collar.  It follows my mandarin collar theme.  

After the right placket (button band) was attached, the plaid was matched by pure luck.  Meaning, it matches because it folds over the opposite way than I thought it did.  There's a lot of top stitching on the band, starting with the tab.

In sewing the button hole band, there is a tab that extends over the outside of the shirt, over a box pleat and over the end of the button band.  In this case, the tab should be the same size as the band to ensure it is wide enough to cover the pleats and the button band.  (Yes, this note is here because I stitched it wrong, resulting in a tab that is 1/8" narrower than the band.  I compensated for the difference by making the pleat narrower.)

The pleat hits me right at my waist.  As a result, the fullness from the pleat is somewhat unflattering. It may draw attention to my belly? If so, it could be stitched down for some distance to minimize the effect.

The shoulder seams and collar went together next.  Finally, the sleeves and the hem.  The sleeves were difficult.  In the end, there were three sleeves cut (living up to the name of this blog).  The fabric was a little off-grain.  The grain line on the pattern matched no other lines on the sleeve.  Due to the pattern lines, the plaid on the shirt would not line up with the plaid on the sleeves.  With all these factors, the best solution was to just try to line up the most obvious point.  The first set of sleeves had the plaid lined up at the sleeve seam notches.  However, once they were both sewn in, the more obvious point was the top of the shoulders--especially since one sleeve matched there better than the other.  With a third sleeve replacing the mismatched one, the obvious mismatch is only a little less obvious.  That is enough for me.  My most successful outcome would be to have the plaid line up across the sleeves and the body.  As it is, it appears to line up at some angles and the plaid is matched across the side seams of the body.

The end of this cut of fabric is off grain and won't be made straight.  Probably hanging it to dry was a bad idea.  It must be washed again and dried flat, perhaps after a bit of a tumble dry.  Even then it may not be usable, which is a disappointment. There's enough for a pair of pants or shorts which would be nice to have if this shirt becomes a secret pajama top.  To save more fabric for a pants project and to avoid using off grain fabric in an obvious spot, there will not be a pocket added to this shirt.  It looks a little too busy for one, anyway.

The really cute buttons were a surprise find at my local fabric store.  They are 3/16" too large and a little too thick.  Since they came 3 to a card, I opted to use plain brown buttons for the cuffs.  

The cuffs were cut a little off grain, along with the sleeves.  The cuffs can only match the sleeves horizontally because the sleeve is gathered. The two sleeves almost ended at the same point in the plaid. One sleeve was sewn 1/8" shorter to make the cuff sit at the same point of the plaid.  The cuffs are lined up along the prominent plaid line (the gold one).  

Heavy duty black thread was used for the cuff buttonholes (dark brown buttons) and Coats and Clark dark blue thread for the placket buttonholes (gold and blue buttons.)  My machine seems more prone to error on successive buttonholes.  It might be best to turn it off or at least clear the stitch between buttonholes.  This mostly means that the machine should be watched closely so it can be turned off once it errors.  If it is caught in time, the stitches are easily picked out and the buttonhole can be redone.  This time, there was only a 1/4" of stitches to be picked out.

It is a little 80s.  There's room for shoulder pads, but -- NO.

The hems are not quite straight on grain but look ok.  The pattern instructions call for the hemming first, then turning under the edge of the slits on each side.  I am not sure that this is my preference, but it does hide the edge of the hem.

All in all, it turned out to be one of my better makes, especially in seasonality.  Plaid shirts and jeans was the uniform of the day wherever I went.

Trying out Simplicity 1887, the pants

Since my original experience with a vintage sewing pattern was very satisfying, I bought a bunch more.  The patterns from the 70's are my home ground, since that is when I first learned to sew.  Besides my familiarity with the older patterns, I suspect that the sizing is a better fit for me.  Mostly, my suspicions are that the length of the skirt and the torso are shorter in these older patterns, while newer ones are sized for taller bodies.  All to say that I am glad to have the option of using patterns from so many different eras and sources.  Sewing has become a nice distraction from life's stressors.

My first choice for vintage sewing fun was a 1950 pattern, McCall's 8246.  Not only does this one predate my other choices, it looks distinctly unfamiliar, right from the start--the fabric.  It was designed for 54" tubular material.  Tubular material is currently available, but it is usually ribbed knit intended for use as cuffs and hems on athletic garments.  There's no information on what tubular material was in the 50s--knit (likely), woven, cotton, wool, or?  With no other guidance than that, I first elected to use a modestly priced cotton flannel for the toile.

It is 3 yards of Shetland Flannel, 100% cotton, made in India, SRKF-13937-12 Grey, Machine wash, cold, delicate cycle, do not bleach, tumble dry low: cool iron, 44"  wide.  Purchased for $6.50/yd, or a total of $17.50 from Hodge Podge fabric shop in Salida, Co.  

Although this thrifty choice would have made an effective toile and been a casual version of the dress, it was too little. There was not enough of this fabric for this pattern, which requires 2 2/3 yards of fabric that is 54" wide or wider.  Although seams can be hidden in the body at the front and back tucks, making it possible to piece the body from two cuts 26" wide, that approach would use all of the Shetland Flannel.   There would be nothing left for the yokes and the sleeves.  Since, admittedly, the flannel is too casual for this dress, that idea was dropped.  

Seeking a good use for the flannel, I read some descriptions and suggestions from sellers of this fabric.  The one that struck me was "pajamas."  Aha.  The idea came to me to continue the pants making and produce pants that feel like pajamas--making "secret pajamas", a term that became popular a couple of years ago, when people were staying home during the pandemic.  Coincidentally, I have a pattern set aside for a skirt that includes pants, rather roomy pleated pants with an elastic waistband.  Not only does it look pajama-y, it will produce a toile that will guide me in the skirt making.

Thus began Simplicity 1887, View A, elastic waist pants with pockets.  The starting size was a 16, the largest size in the size block I purchased--after all, this is a toile.   Even though the fabric shrunk to 42" wide and 2" short of 3 yards long, there was plenty for the size 16 pants cut to the full pattern length (i.e. not shortened).  Leg edges were overcast before sewing together.  Assembly followed the instructions except for cautiously sewing a 3/8" seam at the top of the 4 vertical seams (side seams and center seams).  This resulted in a 44" waist, much larger than needed and too large for the waistband.  

My next step was to sew the standard 5/8" seam in the center and side seams of the pants.  With a 3/8" seam at the waistband side seams, the waistband fit nicely onto the pants and in the end, onto me, due to the elastic in the back.  The elastic is extremely difficult to insert in the two casings by following the instructions.  Whether it was due to the thickness of the fabric, the flimsy elastic, or the tightness of the casing--or the combination of all of those problems, it was hard.  No-roll elastic, a wider casing and starting from the center back instead of the front might work better when I make the skirt.

The pattern piece for the elastic is long enough, probably too long.  With the waist at 32", there was at least 3" extra on the starting end.  Some of that may be because it is underwear elastic, which is more stretchy than no-roll.  It is also more comfy and more prone to twisting.  

Taking up the inseams 1/4" and the side seams 1/2" brought the pants below the waist down to size 14. This is still a very roomy fit with a lot of ease.  The skirt might be best in a size 12, depending on how much stretch there is in the fabric.  The sizing is a little surprising.  Based on my measurements, a size 14 should fit my hips.   The finished hip measurement is 45 1/2".  That's 7 1/2" of ease.  Is so much ease for style, comfort, or movement?  Either reason will do because these pants are truly comfy, warm, secret pajamas.

The pattern leaves the waistband edge turned down and exposed rather than turned up covered by the band.  They suggest machine finishing the edge, but I opted to bind it with some gray seam binding.  Turning it over the edge was a bit tight because it was single fold, but all I had in gray.  

The pants are hemmed at 1 1/4", as recommended, with a blind hem.  They are intended to be ankle length. They are a bit longer on me, with the hem exactly where I prefer it, in the middle of my heel.

Sewing the pants went quickly.  Although the dress could be next, I am considering instead a flannel shirt.  It will be appropriate for Winter through Spring as it is a very light flannel.

Not to worry, That 1950s dress is coming.  I found some 58" wide green lyocell in my fabric stash.  It will serve as the toile of the dress.  This will move the project into my other Spring sewing, which has a theme--Green!  I have stashed four or five pieces of fabric that will bring green to my wardrobe this Spring.

While pondering the possibilities, I had a look through the fabrics I have stashed away.  It adds up to $778 in about 45 pieces.  That's about $17 per project.  It is a frugal amount, but it ranges greatly.  Some pieces are only suitable for toiles, some are quite nice, and some I regret buying. 

And, what did I make in 2023?  The fabric cost totaled $275, producing 18 items, so about $16 each.  

Continuing the navy blues in Simplicity 9018

As the weather turned cooler this year, a shortage of long sleeve knit shirts in my closet became noticeable.  That meant a look at the fabrics and patterns I have accumulated.   Simplicity 9018 provided a mock turtleneck top, a look that is trending this fall.  The pattern has simple, casual separates for knit fabrics.   A recent addition to my fabric collection is 2 yards of Art Gallery Fabrics Gentle Draft Knit in Moonrise, 95% cotton, 5% spandex, 58" wide.  This came from  the Confident Stitch in Montana at a price of $37.80.    Pattern calls for 1 5/8 yards for the long sleeve top.  This version was cut on the medium size, grading to the large just above the waist.  There was about 3/4 of a yard of fabric remaining. 

The size lines are not marked on the left side of the neck piece.  Before I realized this, I cut along the line that is near the small dot for the size M.  This makes it 7/8" too short.  A narrower seam left it only 3/8" too short.  It is actually a nice fit, requiring just a little easing required to sew it to the neckline.

  

It is all sewn with a stretch stitch (lighting stitch, i.e. it looks like lightning bolts) on a tiny BP needle with less pressure--all because this fabric is very cushy and stretchy.   In the end, I resorted to the walking foot to get a smooth seam.  The regular foot stretched the fabric and made the seam ruffle.

Using a 3/8" seam allowance on the sides provided even more ease, but it was necessary to grade to a 5/8" allowance at the armholes so the sleeves fit.  

The sleeves went in well.  The hem length is per pattern.  It is hemmed with a wavy stitch, to match the print in fabric.  This stitch stretches better than plain top stitching and is inspired by quilting bloggers, who often match the stitch to the print.

Score! The 1977 Vintage Jacket Idea is Revived

On a spur-of-the-moment browse through a local sewing machine shop, I found some really good cotton for the second version of the jacket that I couldn't complete with the railroad twill. Now it will have railroad twill trim. The main fabric is a deep navy blue, with a texture a bit similar to a pique. It's 100% cotton, 56" wide. I bought the 1 1/2 yards left on the end of the bolt. Although I usually try to avoid the bolt ends because they often have wrinkles that won't come out, this cotton washed out smooth.

I have made this pattern once before, out of leftover fabric. For that first trial, there was not enough to make the pockets. Thus, the pockets for this pattern are a first time make. After a couple of mock-ups, I worked out how to attach the bias binding and reduce the bulk at the corners where the pocket will be top-stitched to the jacket. The railroad twill is heavy fabric, so top-stitching through multiple layers of twill and the textured cotton would have been difficult. I opted to hand sew the binding to the jacket at the pocket edges. I also finessed the edges of the binding by folding it over and stitching it right sides together before sewing the binding down by hand on the wrong side. I found that trimming the main fabric away from this seam at the corners reduced the bulk.

Most of the construction went smoothly according to the detailed vintage pattern instructions, which I found very helpful. The corners of the front yoke are reinforced with a bias square where it joins the front placket. The body is gathered and attached to the yokes for both the front and the back. The shoulders and side seams are sewn together. The hem is blind hemmed, but with the dark fabric, a topstitched hem was hardly visible. The collar pieces are attached to the jacket and to the facing and the jacket and facing are basted together before binding. Button loops are attached to the front and hand sewn to the facing after the binding is applied to the fronts. The pockets are constructed and sewn on. Finally, the cuff and sleeves are sewn together and sewn to the body. Prior to all this sewing however, came my only mistake, resulting in the interfacing being fused to the wrong piece. Oops.

Placket interfaced correctly in first jacket

That's right (i.e.wrong). I fused the interfacing to the facing rather than the jacket. I did it correctly the first time I followed this pattern, but not this time. The interfacing should be attached to the jacket over the placket seam. Since I did not think it would hold in place with the fusing to the seam, I fused it neatly to the facing, forgetting to check my first version. The old instructions call for a sewn in interfacing which would probably be better for this jacket. However, I wanted to use some black fusible interfacing I bought on a whim when interfacing was on sale. I didn't think I would have another project that would use this interfacing since it is very heavy, even though it is labeled feather weight. I have had fusible interfacing bubble after washing on other projects.

Facing interfaced, placket bare in second jacket

I reasoned that attaching it to the facing would hide any bubbling. Once I realized what I had done wrong, I followed through and used the interfaced collar piece as the facing. Now that it is all constructed, I can't see that it made any difference in the fit or drape of the jacket.

Finished Placket

The sleeves are also a first make, since the original version has long sleeves.  The short sleeve pieces were missing from the first pattern (a size 14) I purchased. This version uses the short sleeve pattern pieces from a size 12 pattern. There's a small difference in the fit, but not enough to warrant an adjustment. The contrast on the short sleeve is actually a lining on the inside hem. After it is sewn on, a cuff is turned up to allow the contrasting fabric to show. It would have a smoother appearance if the trim was sewn to the outside of the sleeve. The advantage to the contrast lining is that it offers choices on the depth of the cuff and even to not have a cuff.

Sleeve Cuff

There's a lot of details, hand sewing and facing in this rather casual jacket. It is probably not something I will make often, but it has a very cute vintage appeal, especially with the short sleeves, quirky pockets and toggle buttons. It was gratifying to be able to use the buttons from the Netherlands since the binding has an off-white background.

That's a final look at the vintage jacket. It's part of a complete coordinating set, with t-shirt and skirt. In navy blue, it works with a few other items I have sewn. I have one other piece of navy fabric to use. It will be up next.