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A dress made from a 1919 pattern, thedreamstress.com

A 1918-1919 Day Dress: or ‘The Dreamstress Makes Yet Another Blue Dress’

Colour-wise, I may be most famous for my love of yellow, but if you actually look at my sewing, blue is by far the most common colour in my historical and modern sewing wardrobe (unless you count historical undergarments, in which case white is winning!).

One of my historical wardrobe sewing goals is to make more things that are not in blue, white, & black. I’ve got the most stunning persimmon orange silk taffeta calling my name, and a deep purple, and a vivid golden yellow PHd, and I’d really, really like to find an excuse to make something green, because it’s a colour I adore, and yet somehow I never end up sewing with it!

So far I am totally failing at diversifying my colour palette, because my first make of 2019 is…darkest blue, so dark it reads black in photos. (faceplosh)

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

In my semi-defence, this dress was intended as a wearable toile, because I really wasn’t sure the pattern would work, and I was specifically looking for a fabric in my stash that I didn’t love – and that I had a LOT of.

A dress made from an original 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

The pattern may look slim, but it’s a massive fabric hog: far wider than the line drawing, with huge tucks and a huge hem, and really interestingly constructed sleeves that take a LOT of fabric.

This is one half of a front or back piece:

A dress made from an original 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

Note: Felicity is a very long cat!

So, knowing I needed a ton of fabric, I chose a very lightweight darkest blue wool twill that I found for a steal at an op-shop – though not quite as much of a steal as I’d thought, when it turned out to be full of moth holes.

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

By careful cutting, and a bit of pattern fudging (my dress is not quite as full as the pattern, because one front or back wouldn’t fit on a folded width of fabric) I managed to avoid all the moth holes, and get the dress out.

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

When I first got the dress to a wearable stage, I put it on and thought: “Oh My. If I ever get invited to a fancy dress event with the theme ‘Amish Toga Party’ I’m all set, but otherwise…”

So I didn’t finish the dress in time for the Victorian Picnic at the Botanical Gardens, because well, it wasn’t an Amish Toga Party…

But with Theresa coming to visit, I decided I’d finish the dress, and if it looked terrible, well, at least we would have had fun, because we always do!

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

I made a hat to go with the dress, but didn’t quite get it finished – and when I tried on the unfinished hat, and compared it to my Tricorne Revival hat, Theresa and I both agreed the Tricorne Revival was the one to wear.

I’m now absolutely in love with this dress. It’s really comfortable, it’s super fun to wear, and I adore how I look in it, and that it goes so beautifully with my hat.

One of my favourite things about it is the silhouette it gives me. It’s really helping me achieve that ideal mid-late 1910s look. Slim-hipped (but not so much so as in the early 1910s) with a full, low-bust.

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

The bust pleats are so awkwardly placed to the modern eye, but they visually lower the bust, creating that oh-so-fashionable droop.

Harrod’s La Vida Corset advertisement, 1918

Despite the easy, loose style, the proper underpinnings is still really important. I’m wearing this over a Rilla Corset, and the dress does NOT look good without a corset underneath.

I’ve also got a petticoat, and a Wearing History corset cover, for a bit of added bust fullness.

All in all, a dress success!

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com

So, now the big question is: would you like this to be a Scroop Pattern?

The 1910 Little Miss Muffet at the Village Fete Dress thedreamstress.com

Magic in them thar hills: an Edwardian photoshoot at Otari Wilton’s Bush

Remember my yellow 1920s dress, and how I said it was magic?

Now I think maybe the magic is in Otari Wilton’s Bush instead.

I’ve never done a photoshoot at Otari Wilton’s that hasn’t looked beautiful: there is something about the trees and the angle of the light that is just perfection.

Case in point:

Theresa was in town last weekend, and, as we do, we had a dress-up photoshoot.

I picked Otari Wilton’s Bush as our location, because Theresa had never been there.

Theresa wore the 1910 Miss Muffet at the Village Fete dress, and I wore a brand-new just-finished dress from an original 1919 pattern, and my tricorne revival hat.

I actually made the dress as a wearable toile, because I wasn’t sure about the pattern.

And…

We love it all.

Out of 760 photos, at least 500 of them are good enough that I’d be proud to show you!

(which is actually a problem, because I’m pretty sure you don’t want to see 500 photos!)

So here is a quick look at a few, and I’ll post more in individual blog posts: especially ones about the 1919 dress construction.

A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com
The 1910 Little Miss Muffet at the Village Fete Dress thedreamstress.com
A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com
The 1910 Little Miss Muffet at the Village Fete Dress thedreamstress.com
A dress made from a 1919 pattern thedreamstress.com
Wool dress, 1911, part of the wedding trousseau of Vendla Brown b. 1880, Sörmlands Museum, SLM11205A

Rate the Dress: 19teens trousseau

I have Edwardian on my mind, because I just finished a late 1910s dress, and photographed it, and am in love with the era in general. So this week’s Rate the Dress is 1910s, and you get to decide if you’re in love with it in particular.

Last week:  a crinoline era gown in cobalt blue

Sometimes I’m completely surprised by your reaction to a garment. Last week…not so much! It wasn’t hard to guess that the fabric would be quite popular, or that the extremely long berthe might not. (I also feel slightly vindicated that a couple of half-points were lost for fringe 😉 )

The Total: 8.8 out of 10

A very, very good show, but the machine woven perfection of the fabric could not match the heart of the hand-embroidered frock the week before.

This week: a 1911 theatre dress, part of a bride’s trousseau

This dress was part of the trousseau of Vendla Brown, nee Hallström (1880-1964).

Wool dress, 1911, part of the wedding trousseau of Vendla Brown b. 1880, Sörmlands Museum SLM11205A

According to the musuem, Velda wore it to the theatre the day after her wedding.

Wool dress, 1911, part of the wedding trousseau of Vendla Brown b. 1880, Sörmlands Museum, SLM11205A

The dress is a lightweight wool, decorated on the skirt with greek key meanders, and on the bodice with two different kinds of lace, and a floral silk ribbon.

The bodice is finished with a bolero effect.

Wool dress, 1911, part of the wedding trousseau of Vendla Brown b. 1880, Sörmlands Museum, SLM11205A
Wool dress, 1911, part of the wedding trousseau of Vendla Brown b. 1880, Sörmlands Museum, SLM11205A

What do you think? An elegant ensemble for a slightly older bride (Velda would have been 33), or too boring, or too many design elements?

Rate the Dress on a Scale of 1 to 10

A reminder about rating — feel free to be critical if you don’t like a thing, but make sure that your comments aren’t actually insulting to those who do like a garment.  Our different tastes are what make Rate the Dress so interesting.  It’s no fun when a comment implies that anyone who doesn’t agree with it, or who would wear a garment, is totally lacking in taste.

(as usual, nothing more complicated than a .5.  I also hugely appreciate it if you only do one rating, and set it on a line at the very end of your comment, so I can find it!  And 0 is not on a scale of 1 to 10.  Thanks in advance!)