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‘Them’ and the silk trade

Things I love about this article:

  1. ‘Them’ is used as a (relatively) good term
  2. Lots of fabric history!
  3. Fabrics named ‘Billowee’ and ‘Krinkle Krepe’ are considered elegant in comparison to ‘Necking Time’ and ‘Razzle Dazzle’
  4. “It was not exactly something new; it was merely old enough to seem new”

Reprinted from Times Magazine, Monday September 12, 1932

The U. S. silk industry, to its intense delight, last week found itself suddenly in the midst of a boom. Unlike cotton and woolen men, silk men are much at the mercy of THEM and last week it was gloriously plain that THEY–the fashion designers of Paris, the style buyers and editors from the U. S., and the 40,000,000 U. S. women who wear dresses–had decided on a style change which would require the U. S. silk industry’s most diligent services.

Schiaparelli and Bruyere in 1932

THEY do not decide all of a sudden. The blessed event which now delights silk men really began last February when the U. S. style buyers found nothing to excite them at the Paris salons and bitterly said so, threatening never to come back. Oh, please come back next summer! begged Vionnet, Lanvin, Patou, Schiaparelli, Chanel, et al., and promised faithfully to have something that would surely start a U. S. fad, a wave of buying under the irresistible pressure of Fashion.

Dress in blue crepe, 1934

The U. S. buyers last month went back to Paris skeptically. Sure enough, word soon went around the silk industry’s lunch tables that something had been found. It was not exactly something new; it was merely old enough to seem new. It was Rough Crepe, which takes more silk fibre per yard than any other silk dress stuff. Crepe de Chine has not been “in” for years, rough crepes have never been popular. Few wardrobes would contain old crepe de Chine dresses, let alone rough crepes, that could be made over. Silk men know that there are 10,000,000 U. S. women who have never had a silk dress. Perhaps 5,000,000 more cannot now afford to buy one, though a silk dress that cost $25 in 1929 will cost but $10 this year. Even so that leaves 20 or 25 million women who will feel they must, and therefore will, have at least one crepe dress almost right away. That was the beauty of it. When THEY decide, things move quickly.

Classical fashions for spring 1932, Vogue

Silk men say that a silk fad sweeps the world about every ten years. Creeping out of the post-War slump, in 1922 the silk industry was whipped to prosperity by a huge and sudden demand for crepe de Chine. It replaced taffeta, which had clung on tenaciously from the billowy era at the turn of the century, as the standard dress silk. When the good news came last month, silk mills had little rough crepe in stock. So great and so urgent was the demand that silk men last week were vainly trying to buy from each other to satisfy orders. A good part of the silk & rayon industry’s 125.000 operatives had already trooped back to re-opened mills. Consumption of raw silk last month jumped to 60,000 bales–up 29% from last year and the highest monthly taking in nearly two years. Japanese farmers clop-clopped about their sericulture more cheerfully, for the sudden demand had shot raw silk prices 82% above the June low of $1.10 a pound.

Frocks for looking slim, 1934

Rough crepe is an old silk product but the demand for it has always been nominal. All crepes are woven on large looms with some threads highly twisted. When the cloth is removed these threads tend to untwist, giving it a rough or pebbly appearance. Rayon, though not so elastic as silk, is also used for crepes and rayon mills are sharing in the present boom.

Ladies Home Journal, 1932

Most popular colors, silk men think, will be Harvard red, followed by black, olive green and royal blue. Trade names for some of the rough crepes include Bagheera, Billowee, Bubble crepe, Krinkle Krepe. Less elegant are two new silk fabrics, Necking Time and Razzle Dazzle.

Harvard red and black in 1937

Largest maker of dress silks is Stehli Silks Corp. Susquehanna, Schwarzenbach Huber & Co., Cheney Bros., C. K. Eagle are all large silk makers, but their business is less specialized. In 1929 Stehli sold 14,000,000 yards–enough for 5,000,000 dresses. About three-fourths was sold to dress manufacturers, one-fourth to stores for over-the-counter distribution. Their annual volume is nearly $25,000,000. The business was founded by Statthalter Rudolph Stehli in Obfelden, Switzerland, in 1837, has remained in the family ever since. The company now has 3, 500 looms scattered through Switzerland, Italy, Germany and the U. S. Emil J. Stehli, grandson of the founding Statt halter and president of Stehli Silks Corp., came to the U. S. in 1897 to establish an importing house as an adjunct to Zurich’s Stehli & Co. Importing of Stehli silks proved profitable until the Dingley tariff ended it forever. As U. S. manufacturers do today in foreign lands, the resourceful Stehlis promptly started manufacture of silks safe within the tariff wall. Now the U. S. branch of the family business is four times as large as the sturdy Swiss parent. Of the fourth generation is blond, pink-cheeked Henry E. Stehli, able young secretary and treasurer of Stehli Silks Corp. To reap the harvest of rough crepe Stehli has recalled 2,000 workers, its mills have been stepped up to three shifts. Production in anticipation of another silk year is running 25% above rated capacity.

French fashions in 1933

Holiday traditions: Winter in Hawaii

Most people don’t think of Hawaii as having seasons, but it does.  They are just more subtle than in the less equatorial regions.  In winter the air is cooler.  Rain washes in and out in a matter of minutes.  Certain trees bloom, and others don’t.  The christmas tree bushes are loaded with bright red berries, perfect for making wreaths.

Every year in September or October my parents would plant roselle bushes.  Also called rosajamaica or jamaica, roselle is a relative of hibiscus, and what you are drinking when you have hibiscus tea.  You also see roselle tea in taqueries.

By December the red stems of the roselle bushes would be laden with fat red rosettes, ready to be boiled and sweetened with honey to make the most delicious, bright pinky-red seasonal drink.

Some years we would have so much roselle that we would string them into garlands to wrap around the tree.

Roselle

Roselle

Storms are more frequent in December, meaning that the streams around my parents farm would swell with water, and come rushing down in big brown torrents.  If it stopped raining, and the streams weren’t too big, we would go swimming in them, or ride boogie boards down the rapids.

Me and mum in a storm swollen stream

All the rain and storms would mean that everything grew like mad, so the valleys and hills would be lush and green, but the gardens would need lots of weeding.

The Naiad and I do barefoot weeding on a wet day. At least I escaped the hat!

With the slightly cooler air, my dad would make us wear wool sweaters and hats outside on cooler days (read, days under 20 degrees celcius!), but we rebelled at shoes.

Making a little paper-tree teepee. This time I got stuck with sandals

In addition to renewing the land, the storms would sweep the beaches clean of footprints.

Mr Dreamy leaves the only set of footprints on a grey day

Bigger storms would wash branches and mud down in the streams, and the beaches would be full of flotsam.

Stream flotsam on the beach

Rainstorms often cleared at the end of the day, leaving soaking sand, but blue skies.

A towel and a rugby ball on wet sand at the end of the day

Happy news

Something to cheer me up for the season:

My little sister is coming to NZ for a working holiday.  She could stay as long as a year!  Yay!

This sister is the Naiad, the one who is a professional chef.

The Naiad and kitty

Uh-oh.  I see lots of exercising in my future.

The Naiad and a creation

Yep, lots and lots of exercising

Cheesecake = hiking

She arrives Boxing Day, which is the day after Christmas.  I’m so excited!