Wardrobe Architect 4: Proportions & Silhouettes

I must admit I struggled with this month’s exercises. In the first place, there’s the confusion of the terminology. Both ‘proportions’ and ‘silhouettes’ seem to be referring to the shape of garments that you wear together. Jeans + t-shirt + sneakers, for example. I might call it an ensemble, but regardless of the label you choose, that’s what we’re talking about.


The second problem I had is that at first I could only think of one ensemble that I wear – leaving aside for the nonce such things as headwear (always) and footwear (socks and slippers, mostly; shoes or boots outside).
I wear a long-sleeved full-length dress pretty much every day. But there are variations on the theme. With or without belt; with or without cardigan/jersey; skirt full or straighter. Occasionally short sleeves in summer.

Then I realized that there are other ensembles I wear – sometimes. Tunic over full skirt, tunic over loose trousers, tunic over laplap (straight wrap skirt). But I don’t want to include these in my wardrobe architecting, much as I enjoy wearing them, because they leave me stranded without pockets (cue Scarlett-O’Hara-at-intermission moment again).

What else is there? Then I remembered: one of my dresses has fasteners all the way down the front (it was designed to be a throw-on layer over less-modest clothing), and I often wear it half-open over a full skirt, in a vaguely Elizabethan sort of way.

Portrait of Mary Tudor, Queen Mary I (1516 - 1558), circa 1550s
As the dress contains the all-important pockets, this is a satisfactory outfit, even allowing for different combinations – had I more than one of each sort of garment, which I don’t. I have occasionally worn the dress with loose trousers and a tunic or long slip, but there comes a point where you wonder if you are still wearing a dress, or just adding a light coat with convenient pockets.

Of course, if we’re talking about what we’d like to wear, I’d love a dress designed to look like a full skirt and matching waistcoat, which could then be worn over a variety of shirts – allowing for a simplicity approaching or even exceeding that of my husband’s wardrobe.

Not that I have ever seen such a dress, mind you, in person or otherwise. But I have hopes that one day, as I pursue my sewing endeavours, I will eventually gain the necessary skills to make myself one of these dream-dresses (with perhaps a matching jacket).

English women's riding habit c 1890 LACMA
What are your favourite ensembles (/silhouettes/proportions)? What ensembles do you as yet only dream of?

Upskilly & Stuff 3: The Petticoat, Skirt or Slip

One pattern, three garments: a skirt, an underskirt – which is to say, a petticoat – or an underskirt which has the added benefit of being slippery and thus keeps layers of clothing from sticking to each other – or the wearer. (Slips, I feel, are massively underappreciated in this day and age. I have five.)

The Ladies' home journal (1948) (14580317607)
However, I would not recommend making the third of those three options unless you have the patience of Job (with less tendency to complain), as slippery fabrics are definitely advanced work.

On the other hand, if you still believe that everything in this world is subject to the laws of physics, do try making something with slippery fabric. You will find it very educational.

I decided to stick to the simple petticoat: a basic skirt designed to be worn under another skirt. It doesn’t have to look good; all it has to do is keep the sunlight from advertizing your legs to the world at large. A low-pressure project, in fact.

For this project I did my first bit of pattern-making. Imagine, if you will – no, never mind imagining, it’ll take too long to describe. Here’s a picture.

This represents a quarter of the whole skirt. The straight line down the left goes on the fold (fabric folded in half lengthwise), so after cutting around the other three sides you end up with a half-skirt piece. Cut two for a front and a back. The note on the right is to remind myself to add seam allowance there. The straight bit at the top of the right edge is to make the waistband-making easier.

The most important thing to remember when drafting a skirt pattern is that unless you are putting in some kind of fastening like a zip or buttons, the waist will need to go over your hips, so the waist measurement should actually be your hip measurement plus a little bit for leeway.

Straight down 3cm for the waistband (or more if you’re using wide elastic or the like) and then draw a straight line from there out to the desired length and width. I originally drew the pattern out to 40cm wide at 75cm length, but then realized it wouldn’t work with the fabric I chose (a nice worn-smooth piece of old sheet) unless I put in another seam.

Shorter slip, or three seams to sew? I decided simplicity was the way to go. Incidentally, one of the useful things about a skirt pattern that extends a line is that if you need it shorter, you can just measure the desired length down the straight side, mark a line across, and whack off the extra with a pair of scissors. (Want a longer skirt later? Get out the ruler and extend the line on another piece of paper.)

So, having sorted out the pattern, I cut two as instructed (not forgetting the seam allowance on what I might go so far as to call the hypotenuse) and pinned them together – wrong sides together.

A dreadful mistake? No, the first step of a French seam, a very useful seam which leaves you with no distressed edges hanging about on the inside of your garment (so it lasts longer) and only two rows of stitching to sew (unlike, say, a Hong Kong finish).

French seam

Press at every opportunity, is my advice. I pressed in between each stage of the seams, pressed the first fold down for the waistband, pinned, pressed… It was going to be an elasticated-waist petticoat, but the elastic was too blasé for my liking, and so I ended up sewing a strip of bias binding closed (hip measurement + plenty extra for ties) and making it a drawstring petticoat instead.

Slightly less convenient, perhaps (the way you need to arrange the gathers each time is a little irritating, I confess), but superior in two ways: I won’t need to worry about replacing elastic when it dies, and the waistband is now fully adjustable.

I could have continued on and finished it off with the hem, but as some of the fabric is, in the nature of things, not cut along the grain, I decided it would be best to let it hang overnight to avoid subsequent wonkiness. Here it sits on the exoskeleton, then, waiting for me to mark a straight hem, pin, press and sew it.

Not, perhaps, the most beauteous of garments, but that’s the good thing about petticoats: no one sees them but yourself. (So if you have a secret passion for scarlet hues or lavish lace, knock yourself out. No one will ever know…)

It’s a very empowering sort of garment to make: it’s simple, it’s undemanding, and it’s a “real thing” – a proper garment, unlike, say, an apron which you just tie on over your real clothes. You can make one in an afternoon, and making your own pattern is pretty simple too (a very long ruler helps, as does thinking it out on paper first). A garment made to measure from your own personal pattern – what could be better?

For this project, I practiced pattern-making, laying out a pattern on fabric, measuring & cutting, French seams, making a casing (I’ve only just realized it’s basically the same as a hem, but upside down) and threading a casing. (And hemming again, once I’ve done that bit.)

Catalogue of the Hampton Normal and Agricultural Institute, at Hampton, Virginia, for the academical year (1896) (14591021498)
The next Upskilly step takes us on to the nightgown – here come sleeves!

Wardrobe Architect 3: Exploring Shapes

The aim behind this month’s exercise is to figure out – in great detail – what shapes and lines you’re comfortable in, which you wouldn’t be seen dead in, and which are just – meh.


You’ll definitely want the worksheet for this one – pop across to Colette HQ and there it is.

The instructions say to rate everything from 0 (hate!) to 5 (meh) to 10 (love!) but I decided to cheat a bit and have a simpler rating system: A, Y, M, N, HN. Which is to say, Absolutely!, Yes, Meh, No, and Hell No.

The last-mentioned rating I reserved for mid-thigh and mini-length items (yes, mini is shorter than mid-thigh; the mind boggles), tight trousers, cropped tops and dropped-waist trousers. Not Going To Happen.

Unsurprisingly, dresses and skirts rated highly, with ‘somewhat fitted’ my favourite fitting for dresses, and very/somewhat full for skirts (and the skirt part of dresses, naturally). Trousers need to be very loose before I will consider wearing them; indeed, they cannot be too loose.

Riding habit, including jacket, riding skirt and divided skirt, 1900-1910
Covert trousers.
I will wear a tunic-length garment, but only as a top over a full-length skirt – or loose trousers. Otherwise, it’s “very long or maxi length” for me – though I don’t like my dresses to drag on the floor. If I wanted to sweep, I’d use a broom, thank you very much.

For some reason the longest length shown for outerwear (e.g. coats) is tunic length. My coat is more like knee-length and I live in hopes of finding one closer to ankle length. [Side note: it is terrifying how often I can type “length” and make the same spelling mistake every time.]

It never fails to amaze me how so many people seem content to have outer layers that only come down to the very tops of their legs – even rainwear! Do their legs not get cold? Are their trousers magically waterproof? Bizarre.

Jobbról a második Csató Mari manöken. Fortepan 30505
I had to look up some of the necklines (sweetheart? jewel?) and it turns out I’m fairly fussy about necklines. I have the anachronistic belief that a neckline should be somewhere in the vicinity of your neck. After all, it’s not called a sternum-line. Nor (since I have narrowish shoulders) do I like wide necklines which either display my underclothing or slip right off one side or the other.

But, despite all my fussiness about skirt length and necklines, I am apparently pretty laid-back when it comes to sleeves. Spaghetti-straps are ruled out by the neckline clause; sleeveless and three-quarter sleeves I’m not mad keen on, but I’m happy to wear pretty much any other length. [Dangit! Still can’t get that word right first go! Who thought four consonants in a row was a good idea?]

So, judging by my Absolutelys, I should be looking for full-length [right first time!] dresses with somewhat fitted bodices and full skirts. Waistlines high or natural; jewel necklines (I actually quite like a collar, but they weren’t under discussion here) and full-length [gah!] sleeves for choice.

Jewelry
What about you? What are your likes and loathes – and what would your ideal garment look like?