male pattern boldness

"Bling-a-Ding-Ding" - Faux Fur Coat Update!

2012-02-13T14:51:00.004-05:00

Friends, if you're like me you have poor impulse control. That's why I'm just going to go ahead and show you how my faux fur Seventies coat looked earlier today, right after I performed the "turn of the cloth" (flipping the facings to the front), revealing my very understated feral cat lapels and collar.

There's still a bit of understitching to do to keep things in place, but I think you'll agree this coat makes a statement. Having grown up in the Seventies in the Bronx of all places, a coat like this has strong associations and I'm not talking about my best childhood friend Maury's mother Francine. Though come to think of it, I'm pretty sure Francine had a coat very similar to mine. If she didn't, she should have.

She did drive a Ford LTD -- or was it her ex husband's -- which would definitely go with the coat.

I'm not sure how much interest you have in the construction of this coat anymore, but I'll share a few things I think warrant mention. First, slightly off topic, the dogs just love sitting in my faux fur scrap pile and I think they're trying to tell me they want faux fur coats too. Dream on, boys.

Since my leopard-y print (What is this cat print exactly?) was rather thin in comparison to the sheared pink rabbit, I padded the collar and lapel pieces to give them extra oomph. I basted some beige fleece I had in my remnant stash and I'm so glad I did; it really makes a difference. The fleece is trimmed so it doesn't get caught in my seam allowances, as one would interfacing.

I also padded both front lapels.

I didn't add grosgrain ribbon or twill tape along the fold line; I don't think it's necessary though I might change my mind; we'll see how my energy holds up.

I attached my overcollar to my right and left front facings, which were already attached to the neck facing. I then stitched the whole kit and kaboodle to the coat itself, having already attached the undercollar, trimmed seam allowances, and turned them up.

Having shaved my seam allowances on the sheared rabbit fur side, my seams were very manageable and neat. They ended up getting trimmed down to about 3/8" or less anyway.

As always, I've been vacuuming as I go, and when I remember it, I put on my face mask. It gives Michael a good laugh if nothing else.

I'm nowhere near done, of course. One thing I left for last was pockets, because I wasn't sure if I wanted slit pockets or patch pockets. The original pattern calls for patch pockets and it's doable in this fur; I just have to think about how it will look. If you have an opinion about it, let me know before I start cutting/slitting etc!

I also wanted to line the coat, though frankly, the inside looks a lot like shearling and isn't offensive to me at all. I could simple bind my facing edges, hems, etc., and call it a day. Thoughts? Also, how about the cuffs and/or hem? Should I add the cat fur there too, or is the collar/lapels plenty?

Have a great day, everybody!

PS - What's a good name for this coat? Be kind!

Fervently fighting faux fur fatigue!

2012-02-12T17:22:00.007-05:00

Readers, where did the weekend go? I can't speak for you, but mine was spent fondling five pounds of fuzzy faux fur.

I'm not complaining though, because miracle of miracles, this fuzz is beginning to look like a coat!

My underlayers are basically done with the exception of staying the lapel fold line and a few other tailoring tasks. Tomorrow I'll attach the facings.

I've stitched so many hinge seams I could do it in my sleep.

My vintage Kenmore 158.141 has proven to be an indefatigable friend. This is actually the first garment I've sewn on it and it has certainly earned its place in my sewing machine collection, not to mention it's a handy computer table too!

Up top I'm basting in my sleeves. Once they were set, I hinge-seamed them in with my Kenmore.

Today I also cut my facings and collars. Those will be straight stitched on. The seam allowances on the pink rabbit fur have to be shaved. My beard trimmer (which is also my head shaver) has been indispensable here, but it needs lots of cleaning and oiling; trimming those seam allowances is a big job and the fur is superfine and very thick and creates lots of fine fuzz.

Here's the undercollar with the seam allowances shaved down.

I also had to shave the seam allowances on the neck of the coat.

I'm still vacuuming up a storm. Goodness knows what the neighbors think I'm up to.

And that's been my weekend, folks. I know this is not going to be the last faux fur garment I make; I really like working with it. It's toasty and surprisingly light, and fortunately, doesn't have to be pink!

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, everybody, and happy sewing!

Further Fur Coat Adventures!

2012-02-11T18:18:00.007-05:00

Friends, the coat is coming along. I cut all my shaggy white fur (sheared pink rabbit, for want of a better name) today: fronts, backs and sleeves. Wanna see one of my sleeves -- undersleeve and oversleeve -- all sewn up?

Ta da!

Here's the back with the two darts cut and stitched closed with a hinge seam (the dart shape is sliced out before the seam is stitched).

From the front, you'd never know there were two darts there!

Here's another dart cut out from the front. As you can see, it produces a lot of loose hair.

I have been vacuuming like a mad person; my apartment is going to be cleaner at the conclusion of this project than at the start. It's the only way to keep things in order.

I've been cutting my white fur, which has a suede-like bonded backing, with an X-Acto knife. It slices only the backing and doesn't damage the fur itself. Scissors and especially a rotary cutter would cut too much of the fur off, and since most of my pieces don't have seam allowances, I want to preserve the fur along the edges. Ideally, seams are next to invisible.

As soon as I cut a big section, out comes the vacuum, and you have to vacuum both your garment piece as well as the edges of all the fur that's left behind. It moves quickly but you have to stay on top of it.

I've also been experimenting with facing edges, which will be straight stitched with a standard seam allowance. Before stitching, however, the seam allowance on both the white fur and the spotted fur will have to be shaved down completely.

In this sample, you can see that the seam allowance of both furs is nearly hair-free.

Once the facings are turned, to keep edges sharp, I'll have to understitch the top and bottom layers of fur. (You can't press faux fur, obviously.) Right side up, the fur should look something like this on the lapel. The underside will be the white rabbity fur.

The cat (leopard?) fur is weird. I don't know if was stored improperly and got wrinkled or if it's intentionally made so that the nap in some places is somewhat whorled. I like the look but I actually don't think it's supposed to be that way. I tried rinsing and drying a small piece, however, and it still had those whorls -- you can sort of see them in the upper right hand corner of this photo. Either way, I can live with it.

Friends, that's all for today. Needless to say this project is taking up the lion's share of my weekend but it's also a fun adventure and I'm learning a lot. As with so many things, tackling it has demystified the process, and Kenneth King's instructions have proved invaluable. But you MUST vacuum constantly!

Happy Saturday, everybody!

70's Faux Fur Coat MUSLIN + Tools at the ready!

2012-02-10T12:56:00.011-05:00

I just finished my muslin, readers, and that little voice inside is already asking, Do we really have to do this all over again in faux fur?
I wasn't going to make a muslin at first, but since most of the major seams will be done hinge-seam style (more about that later), as per Kenneth King's instructions, I won't be cutting seam allowances. I wanted to make sure this coat was going to fit. Thankfully, it does, and there's a very comfortable amount of ease. I made this with some cheap, coarse purple cotton I had in my stash.

From the back, with undercollar up.

Collar down. I removed the back pleat.

Straight front without belt.

I only added the facing to the right side (which you see folded on top); on the left side you're just looking at the front piece only, but you get the idea. The only challenge was the notched collar -- if you've ever made one you know why: all those seams intersecting at that one little dot and all the careful clipping of seam allowances required.

I'm uncertain about the length the coat should be. Believe it or not, this is the intermediate length -- it could have been a maxi coat. I do love this pattern!

Meanwhile, I've amassed all my recommended tools, face mask included -- you don't want to inhale all those hair fragments and dust (Kenneth King recommends using one) -- and started experimenting with the fur. Below I am also armed with my hair clippers, which I'll use to trim seam allowances on the collar and facings; those won't have hinge seams.

Here are some of my other tools, including awl (that pointy, pin-like thing), afro pick and assorted combs, and cold tape.

The cold tape is a sturdy, highly adhesive fabric tape that's used to stay fur seams. It will be added to the top seam edges before I stitch. I found a roll at Greenberg & Hammer, the notions store, before they closed.

A basic seam is stitched right sides (i.e fur sides) together, with the reinforced seam on top. Before stitching, you use your pick to push as much fur as you can into the seam.

Then you zigzag along (falling slightly off) the edge, like overcasting, and gently pull the two sides apart so that the seam lies flat. ( I'm doing project this on my Kenmore 158.141, the one in the table.)

After a little combing, the seam is invisible from the front.

If you don't push the fur out of the seam first, you end up with something like this. Bad.

BTW, a regular straight stitched seam, without any trimming at all, would look like this -- a mess.

Of course, another necessary tool is a vacuum cleaner. Working with this fur creates a lot of loose hair along cut edges. Here's a seam allowance I shaved with my clippers. See all that hair? This is not a project for the anal compulsive.

My fur, while not the shaggiest out there, is much trickier to deal with than the plush fur in my Salvation Army coat from yesterday. Look how much shorter the nap is on that -- more like polyfleece.

Friends, if truth be told, I'm a little anxious about getting started but I'm trying to breath deeply (through my face mask, of course) and relax. It's not sable, after all.

A happy Friday to you all!

Faux Fur Fabric Haul and MORE!

2012-02-09T09:07:00.012-05:00

OK, readers, what would you say if I told you I went to the Salvation Army yesterday ("Family Day" -- 50% off most clothes) and found a terrific blue faux fur peacoat in my size for $4.99?

Put on your sunglasses, and behold!

Psychedelic plush lining!

I looooove this coat; and you know how I feel about a bargain. Now lest you think this means I won't be making my own faux fur coat, think again. I'm going to use this one for inspiration and construction guidance. This coat was very simply put together, which gives me confidence.

Did I mention it even has the union label?

Now with this blue coat as a backup, and on a bit of a faux fur frenzy, I returned to the Garment District. I couldn't face the incense (and the chaos) at It's a Material World, and I remembered that the other place with an excellent selection of faux fur was the dreaded Nahir, at 242 West 39th Street. I've mentioned Nahir (which some think should be called Nadir due to its surly owner and questionable prices) before, but I've had success here in the past. Since I was on the south side of 39th Street, I checked some of the other fabric stores there that I generally don't go into, and I couldn't find faux fur for less than $20/yd, sometimes even more. I'm talking about heavyweight, quality stuff, not cheap craft fur.

I spent at least half an hour in Nahir. Their fur was $15/yd but when I told them I needed to walk around the block and think, they immediately lowered their price to $12 (This is a good strategy, imo). I made my purchase and that was that.

Now let me say that some of the fake fur at Nahir is gorgeous -- deep plushy, luxurious-looking minks, leopards, lynx, Persian lamb etc., in all kinds of fantasy colors. But I wanted something a little....tacky.

Voila!

This fur is a cross between sheared rabbit and a ratty old bathrobe and I love it. It has a deep pile and a pink undercoat. The best part of all is that the wrong side is bonded to what looks like ultrasuede rather than just your standard knit. That gives me a lot of options, like doing the sleeves suede-side out, for example.

For the collar, and perhaps the cuffs, I went for something more exotic. I don't know my ocelot from my snow leopard, but this fur, also with a pink cast, looked suitably over the top.

So here's my basic palette:

In my dreams I pull off something like this, but I may just keep it simple first time out.

This is the basic look I'm going for.

Last night I cut out my pattern, McCall's 2979, and today I'll experiment with seams, right sides, wrongs sides, etc. As I mentioned yesterday, I want this done by next Tuesday, so Cathy can wear it to a Valentine's Day party.

I'm good to go, friends.

Any thoughts about which side of the -- let's call it sheared rabbit -- should be outside and which inside? Do you think my choice is "pimpy" (I hate that term but I think you get what I mean) enough? I hope so.

Ready, Set, Faux!

The Coat Project: friend or faux?

2012-02-08T11:21:00.007-05:00

The latest on the Seventies coat saga: After digging around in the Garment District yesterday, I have decided to go ahead and make my coat, and -- tentatively -- to make it in faux fur.

There is so much faux fur to be had, readers, but I found the widest selection on 39th Street at what used to be H&M and is now called It's a Material World (!). Parenthetically, they say they're under new management but it sure looks like the same old lousy management to me, as well as same staff, same stock, etc. This is one of those stores that's always a mess and stinks of cheap incense. I counted more than a dozen sticks burning there yesterday and I could hardly breathe. The fur is upstairs (it's a two-level storefront space) and the incense smells even stronger there. That said, they have dozens of bolts of faux fur, some of it absolutely wild and wacky and totally fun.

What I hate about this place is that the prices seem random. Is the faux fur really $20 a yard, or might it be $15 if I made a fuss, or spoke to a different salesperson, or had big breasts? I don't like to bargain in fabric stores, do you?

I also saw some faux fur at Chic Fabrics and a few other places on 39th St. (even Kashi at Metro sent me to 39th St. -- he hates stocking the stuff since it takes up so much space), but nothing can compare to the quantity at It's a Material Word, so I guess that's where I'll make my purchase.

If I do the whole coat in fur (and not just the front facings and collar), three yards should do it. I have some fabulous instructions about working with faux fur from an online class at Pattern Review that Kenneth King led a few years ago. I have all the recommended supplies, including cold tape (this was one of the mystery notions I quizzed you on last summer; nobody guessed it right), electric razor, wig brush, and afro pick.

King recommends using a pattern with a self facing in front, rather than a separate facing. You want to eliminate as many seams as you can and keep it simple. My coat pattern (I'm leaning toward the classic McCall's 2979 from 1971) has separate facings and a notched collar. I spent some time yesterday looking at photos of faux fur coats for sale on Etsy. Most have notched collars, the best looking ones anyway. I think (hope) I can handle it.

I love this one with the pelts running horizontal beneath the waistline. A faux fur Seventies coat can't be too busy and ideally mixes a few different furs and has a fake leather belt at the very least.

Here are a few more gems in the tacky/fabulous category. The faker, the better!

Other than these notched collar coats that look like something straight out of Superfly, the other popular style is similar to my Miss Vogue Pattern (8144).

OK, so this coat is listed as unisex and the guy is hot, but is this not a man in a woman's coat in your opinion? (For sale on Etsy here.)

I also love this version -- I think it's by Jordache or Sassoon, or one of those classic Seventies/early Eighties brands one associates with what were originally called French (and later designer) jeans.

More Seventies-era faux fur coat pics here.

Now I just need to get my energy up. Michael and I are actually invited to a Valentine's Day theater-related party next Tuesday, so if I could get this done by then, that would be great. I'm a little nervous about this faux fur thing, I won't lie to you. I've worked with thick polyfleece but this is a different ballgame.

Anybody worked in faux fur before? Did you have to vacuum constantly? Did you wear a disposable face mask? What were the results like? I'd love to know!

Have a great day, everybody!

PS -- Our cabaret show, Noah's Very Unusual Insight got reviewed! (Read it here.)

Random Thoughts about Seventies Coats

2012-02-07T11:06:00.013-05:00

So here's the deal: Cathy will model the Seventies pantsuit, Simplicity 7295, but she isn't willing to freeze her a** off in the cold.

Which got me thinking...

Who doesn't love a Seventies coat? I happen to have a few Seventies coat patterns in my stash (surprised?) -- one that's strictly for faux fur and another that could have faux fur trim.

I love Miss Vogue 8144, but I'm not sure I'm ready to tackle fur. How do you think it would look with the pantsuit? I would have to make the longer of the two versions to cover the jacket/top. It may be too casual.

The other -- and perhaps better -- vintage pattern option is McCall's 2979, which dates from 1971 but I think it could pass for 1975 (the date of the pantsuit pattern), unless there was a style trend I missed. I love the long purple version with the buckle, and I could make it even longer, or add fur cuffs or fur border at the hem.

Of course, the easiest option is two buy 2-3 yards of faux fur and turn it into something cape- or poncho-like, like Version B of this Very Easy Vogue 7641 from 2002.

WWLD? (What would Liza do?)

To be honest, I'm not sure I'm up for making a coat, unless I find some really wild fabric -- paisley velveteen! -- at the right price (cheap). I may go hunting later today, we'll see.

Of course, easiest of all would be to buy a vintage coat at a thrift store. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is "Family Day" at my local Salvation Army, meaning most clothes are 50%. I'm not sure how often these coats show up these days, though. I also looked on eBay and found this in oh, so beige.

Yea or Nay?

This coat will take 10,000 years to decompose.

Given that MPB is a sewing blog, however, I feeling like I should make whatever I need with my own two mitts. Shoes I can buy, outerwear I should make.

I was also thinking about maybe whipping up one of these stretch headbands, like the green one with the buckle on the lower left.

Friends, did you ever own a Seventies maxi coat? Did it have faux fur trim? Ultrasuede details?

I think it's time to channel my inner Mary and Rhoda. (I'm gonna make it after all... Is that my answer?)

Happy Tuesday, everybody!

PS - Kimberly sent me a photo of my her Pfaff 30 in its new home! Doesn't it look happy?

Glitzy Fabrics and the Sewing Headache

2012-02-06T16:38:00.007-05:00

Readers, I am happy to announce that the top (I'm calling it a jacket) that goes with my Halston-inspired outfit, Simplicity 7295, is almost done. But oye, the headaches!

Like leather, when you stitch through plastic "sequins" or whatever you want to call them, and then you need to rip your seam out, the original stitching holes stay visible. I had to reattach both my sleeves with a slightly narrower seam allowance, so of course I'm left with something that looks like this at the shoulder seams.

It's not dreadful and you'd never notice it from more than six inches away, but still.

This is one of those wrap dress-type tops where you're supposed to leave a 1" wide gap in the right side seam and run the belt (that's attached to the left side of the jacket -- the side that wraps underneath) through this hole, and then bring the belt around the back, to the front. The belt half that's attached to the right side of the jacket (which wraps over) loops around the back as well, crossing the other belt, and tying in the front.

Does that make sense?

I tried this with the belt just pinned on and I didn't like the way it looked; the belt, made from a shiny lycra material, really spoiled the drape of the jacket, and the crisscrossing layers looked sloppy. Here's my lycra and my two belt sides.

I devised a different method of tying the jacket: I sewed one piece of grosgrain ribbon to the inside right seam at the waistline, and another to the left side of the jacket (the side that wraps under). Tied, it looks like this.

Here are the ties.

I then attached one side of the belt to the left side seam, and the other end to the right side edge (the side that wraps over). The belt simply ties on the left, without wrapping around the waist at all. I much prefer this to the original drafted style, don't you? Don't you?

You may be wondering why I didn't use my fashion fabric to make the belt. The sequined fabric can't knot in a soft way, and knotting it would certainly damage the sequins. To be honest, I think there's an even better closure for this jacket, perhaps a rhinestone clip or similar decorative doodad. Right now those ties look a little noodly to me.

Meanwhile, my original plan to use polished cotton bias tape along the neckline (where there was simply an exposed serger seam attaching the facings) didn't work. The combination of a stretch synthetic and stable cotton created problems: the bias tape wouldn't lie flat; it rippled. So instead I cut bias tape out of the same shiny lycra fabric I'd used for my belt/ties. This worked well as it "gives" along with the fabric.

From the inside it looks like this.

I still have to finish the hem and cuffs, probably with the same stretch lycra bias tape. And I'll think about some better closures. Maybe a large satin frog?

One thing I haven't had issues with is my machine, a vintage Singer 201, which handled all these weird stretchy fabrics without a hitch, thank heaven.

Friends, I hope your projects are proceeding more speedily than mine. Have you ever had similar challenges with glitzy fabrics -- or challenges even worse than these? I wonder if real sequins would have been harder, though at least you can remove them along a seam allowance. Thoughts?

Happy Monday, everybody!

Men in their Underwear

2012-02-05T10:53:00.019-05:00

WARNING: The following post deals with adolescent themes. Anyone over the age of 18 should be accompanied by a child.
Friends, on this cold winter Sunday, rather than talk about the serious topic of sequined pantsuits, I thought I'd discuss something lighter, skimpier -- practically bare.

How do you feel about the gratuitous display of men in their underwear in advertisements? Do you care at all? Are you of the opinion that what's good for the goose is good for the gander or some such poultry-related adage?

Do you think these ads target women who shop for men, men who shop for themselves, or something else entirely?

Late last week, I looked north out of my living room window and discovered this brand new painted billboard just blocks from my apartment.

Let's have a closer look.

I certainly wasn't shocked (it replaced another ad for H&M, a woman in her bra), but I did have a moment of Oh. Not Oh as in Wow but rather Oh as in Uh huh. Can you hear the difference?

Two things. Haven't we already seen David Beckham in his underwear recently, for Armani? If those briefs were good enough for him then, why is he hawking his own line now?

Also, $14.95 for a pair of underwear is not cheap by any means, especially for a store like H&M. I once owned a pair of H&M underwear and while they were cute (colorful boy-style briefs), the Spandex in them made me sweat. Spandex in underwear may be flattering on a billboard ad or in the locker room, but in real life it's hot.

Parenthetically, I recently stumbled upon this vintage pattern, Simplicity 5417, on Etsy, and I thought to myself, Who was sewing men's bodysuits in the Seventies? I mean, a jumpsuit I get; this I don't get. Why would anyone want snaps down there. Can't you just tuck your shirt in your pants and call it day?

Speaking of days, I must get on with mine, but I would love to know the following:

In general, do you like to look at men in their underwear? Do these kinds of ads make you want to purchase underwear for a loved one or -- if you're a guy -- for yourself?

On some level are you thinking maybe in David Beckham's underwear, Somebody might look a little more like David Beckham (or at least David Beckham photoshopped to porn star perfection)? Isn't that the point?

Finally, Spandex in underwear: Too hot and clammy for the nether regions?

Enquiring minds want to know!

Ka-Ching!

Glitzy Halston-inspired outfit UPDATE!

2012-02-04T15:29:00.007-05:00

Friends, it takes a certain kind of man to pull off a 1975 sequined pantsuit. Fortunately, I am precisely that kind of man.

I'm not quite done with Simplicity 7295, my matching top and bottom ensemble, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. (Actually, it's a disco ball.) I still need to add the sleeves, which is going to mean trimming the sleeve caps a bit and lowering the armhole. I've been here before, fortunately.

Putting this baby together has been relatively straightforward but not without its challenges. I think I mentioned that the "sequins" (they're really plastic stickies, like shiny Colorforms) don't lay flat folded on the diagonal and if you try pressing them they start to peel off at the corners. There was a considerable curve in the back center seam (to create more fullness in the backside) which I had to remove so that the sequins along the seam would be vertical.

Then I created a lapped seam, which looks very clean though I may add another row of edgestitching. This way I knew that on this very visible seam none of the sequins would be folded in half.

The pants were easy. The pattern calls for a back center zipper but there was no need for one; the fabric has sufficient stretch to just pull the pants on. There's a simple casing with elastic inside, just like men's boxers.

I cut the jacket facings from my fashion fabric and serged them on, cutting off the 5/8" seam allowance in the process. (As I mentioned yesterday, I couldn't fold the facing to the back because of those darn plastic sequins.) I'll add polished cotton bias trim to the edge and cuffs, and most likely, the hem.

The two front darts on the jacket were a bit of challenge and required some experimentation. I used a tiny stitch and trimmed the dart close to the stitching, otherwise I wouldn't be able to press it flat. It's not perfect, but it's acceptable.

I think I'm pretty much done for today; I can only look at this fabric so long before my eyes start to ache.

Simplicity 7295 is a very fun pattern and could totally work today, imo. It makes me think of Studio 54, Bianca Jagger, Donna Summer, and the Bee Gees. And that woman who sings New York, New York -- what's her name again?

This stretch fabric has wonderful drape and really makes a statement -- hopefully a kind one.

Hope you're having a fun, whether you're sewing or not.

Have a great day, everybody!

Puttin' on the Glitz!

2012-02-03T09:06:00.020-05:00

Rhinestones. Bugle beads. Sequins. Fringe.

These are the elements of glitzy dressing, our topic for today!

You can't really talk about glitz without mentioning Hollywood, where the glitziest fantasies were made reality, or rather unreality.

Garish and guilt-free, glitz has its critics. My mother was/is the least glitzy person you can imagine. She used to criticize her friends (to me, me) whom she thought dressed too flashily. My next door neighbor, a boy named Maury, was also my best friend in elementary school, and his mother, Francine, a sexy divorcee, was the polar opposite of my mother. Francine had a clothes closet worthy of Ann-Margret.

I know this because after school, Maury and I used to go through it and try on anything trimmed with marabou or sequins, which was just about everything. (The die was cast early, folks.) She had enough costume jewelry to rival Jolie Gabor and I still remember her collection of chunky psychedelic Lucite rings that were so popular in the early Seventies.

Parenthetically, is anyone named Francine anymore?

Strange as it may seem, I am not a very glitzy person today and neither is my cousin Cathy, who's more Greer Garson than Mitzi Gaynor.

No conversation about glitzy dressing (or Mitzi Gaynor) would be complete without mentioning designer Bob Mackie. I've always loved Bob Mackie, who is probably best known for the wacky, flamboyant costumes he created for Carol Burnett and Cher on their respective television variety shows in the Seventies.

Mackie has continued to costume Cher, seen here on her way to the Piggly Wiggly.

I recently picked up a copy of Mackie's Dressing for Glamour on Amazon, signed by M. Mackie himself!

To be honest, this book doesn't quite live up to its title, being more of a What not to wear when you're short, fat, busty, or some combination thereof guide. Lots of photos but very few color plates. Mackie also talks about what it was like to work for various people in the business, but since this was at the height of his busy career, he's diplomatic to a fault, though he does get a dig in at perfectionist Barbra Streisand, who insisted on dyeing her own shoes when she appeared on The Judy Garland Show. Perhaps she feared Judy might be dyeing them...

And speaking of Judy -- no shrinking violet in the rhinestone department herself -- one of our foremost glitz icons is Liza Minnelli, most closely associated with the late designer Halston.

Was a Halston design the inspiration behind Simplicity 7295, a vintage pattern from 1975 I've just started making, and part of Simplicity's "Designer Fashion" line?

Patterns from this fabulous line can still be found cheap today and many look just like the more costly and collectible Vogue Paris Originals and other designer pattern lines of the period. Perhaps it's inspired by Diane Von Furstenberg (?). Anyway, I picked up this pattern recently for just a few dollars on Etsy, and I'm making it with the glitziest fabric in my stash.

I don't know how I ended up with this fabric, a sturdy knit (most likely Poly-Spandex) with little plastic "sequins" heat-transferred onto the surface. This is both good and bad. The sequins are strongly adhered to the fabric, but seams must be pressed with great care (not too hot an iron; a press cloth is a must), but they will not crease on the bias.

If you try to press a crease with an iron, you melt the glue and the sequins want to peel off.

What this means is that rather than attach a traditional facing to the front, I'm going to cut my facing (made of my fashion fabric for draping purposes) serge off the seam allowance while attaching both layers (right side of facing to wrong side of garment, with the facing under the garment), and then bind the seam edge with either bias strips of polished cotton (which I've tried) or some silk knit I have in my stash (which I haven't tried).

Either way, this will help to stabilize the edge and provide a smooth, professional look. I'll likely do this on the cuffs and hems as well. Again, the fabric won't crease sharply with those plastic do-dads attached. Can you think of a better way to do this?

Here's a sample (done with white thread) of my binding. I attach it, right sides together, fold it over the edge, and stitch in the ditch. To avoid too much thickness, I probably won't fold the inside bias edge under, but either serge the edge before I attach the binding, or just leave as-is. It won't fray.

Vertical seams are less of a problem, as you can see below.

And that's it. I am happy to be sewing again after my month-long hiatus. Despite the cold, the dogs are getting plenty of exercise on their treadmill.

In closing, friends, how do you feel about glitz and glitzy fashion?

I know some of you make costumes for figure skating, ballroom dance competitions, and theater, but outside of those venues, do you ever "glam it up" with sequins, Swarovski crystals, or bugle beads?

Any glitzy gown you remember from your youth, perhaps seen on TV, that made an indelible impression on you?

Who's ready to channel their inner Carol Channing?

Happy Friday, everybody!

Farewell, Pfaff 30, etc.

2012-02-02T09:41:00.014-05:00

Friends, if you've been reading MPB for more than a year, you probably know that my vintage Pfaff 30, which I found at the end of 2010 on Craigslist and bought from a Broadway actress (whose mother had purchased it new) was one of my most treasured sewing machine finds.

It hadn't been sewn with for decades and the motor burned off many layers of smoky dust at first. But once I had this machine cranking, it was a fabulous workhorse and I thought we'd be together forever. But life doesn't always turn out the way we expect.

How could I have predicted that between then and now I would acquire two Singer Featherweights, a Kenmore 158.141 in a table, a Kenmore 158.1040 (the 3/4 portable with the rose-embossed case), and a Singer 201 gifted from Rain? Suddenly, my Pfaff, which I'd sewn on constantly throughout the early part of 2010, felt redundant and, once I found my Featherweight table at Christmastime last year, it took up precious space I no longer had.

I decided to sell it, but due to my ambivalence, I didn't do much to make that happen. As it does so often, however, fate intervened. Two MPB readers, Kimberly and Amanda, came to see me in Noah's Very Unusual Insight last Friday, and while I was chatting with them after the show, I offhandedly mentioned that if either one of them was interested in a vintage Pfaff straight stitcher, they should let me know (ha ha). Lo and behold, the following day I received an email from Kimberly saying that she was interested in the machine!

A picture is worth a thousand words, so I'll let it do the talking. Below are Amanda (left) and Kimberly (right) last night.

Here's Amanda carrying the table (without the machine in it, of course) out of my apartment and out of my life (sob).

I'm still in shock, but Kimberly assures me that I can come visit my-I mean her Pfaff in the East Village whenever I want (That IS what you said, isn't it, Kimberly?). That made me feel a little better. I gave Kimberly a detailed tutorial on how the machine works -- how to oil it, thread it, wind the bobbin, etc. I wasn't sure if I was being overly parental but, hey, I could be Kimberly's father (alas). I feel responsible.

Thankfully, this painful goodbye has been somewhat offset by a few exciting hellos.

My O'Mast video arrived yesterday! This is the documentary about Neopolitan tailoring by Gianluca Migliarotti I mentioned over the weekend, which has also been featured on the blog Made by Hand -- The Great Sartorial Debate. Should we have a home screening/pot luck sometime this Spring perhaps? Look at the cute packaging!

I also just received Lynda Maynard's book, The Dressmaker's Handbook of Couture Sewing Techniques. I'll talk more about this one in the future, but here's a peek.

On Sunday, I promised you a pic of Michael's sister Sara's Prada pumps, picked up at a NYC consignment store at a great -- albeit still high in my book, but what do I know? -- price on her visit here last weekend. I must say they're lovely and (Sara assures me) practical!

Big news! We now have RCN cable Internet service instead of crummy Verizon DSL. Uploads are practically instantaneous. I called for installation on Monday and Monday evening we were already using it -- how often does that happen in life? Normally I hate dealing with phone/Internet/cable companies, but it felt SO good to cancel my Verizon service, I can't tell you.

Friends, that's it. A few questions:

1) Have you ever sold a vintage sewing machine and later regretted it?

2) Have you ever bought/sold shoes on consignment?

3) Can anyone recommend a good HD video camera (or a still camera that has HD video capability) for less than $500? (Ideally much less) Now that I have cable Internet I'd like to produce some higher quality video but my Canon S90 doesn't do HD.

4) Anybody up for a spring potluck/screening (maybe we can throw in another video and make it a double feature. The Singing Nun perhaps?)

Have a great day, everybody!

Valentine's Day Sewing -- YEA or NAY?

2012-02-01T10:50:00.018-05:00

Readers, let's be honest. As bad as the modern world can sometimes seem, all one has to do is take a peek back in time to realize that we've come a long way as a culture.

Gone are the days when the "little lady" would stitch herself up a special Valentine's Day duster (pictured up top) to surprise her other half, who would most likely surprise her with a toaster or other chrome-plated kitchen appliance. (My mother herself experienced this in the Fifties and she wasn't happy about it.)

Speaking of the bad old days, last night I watched the cloyingly false, yet undeniably watchable nun-athon, 1966's The Singing Nun starring Debbie Reynolds (Did Charles Schultz dream up that ad copy?). Worst. Nun. Movie. EVER.

That said, if you like the song Domenique, you might enjoy The Singing Nun. The fact that the real singing nun, Jeanine Deckers, upon whose life the film was (very loosely) based, later left the convent, came out as a lesbian, and killed herself in a bizarre double suicide love pact, needn't spoil the joys of watching Agnes Moorhead, sans Endora makeup, as Debbie's sour sidekick.

But let's get back to Valentine's Day sewing. Friends, it should come as no surprise to you that I strongly resent holidays like Valentine's Day, Mothers' Day, Fathers' Day, and the like, when we're supposed to march in lockstep to the Hallmark Card aisle of our local Rite Aid drugstore and robotically purchase an overpriced greeting card which we're to dutifully sign, seal in an envelope, and hand to our loved one on February 14th, perhaps along with a cheap box of Whitman's chocolates.

Thankfully, as sewers, we have so many other options!

I don't quite understand why a woman would want a Valentine's Day apron, since, let's face it, she'd have to make it for herself. I suppose it might be a sexy surprise if she showed up wearing nothing but the apron, but I don't think that was the original intention. Or was it?

If an apron feels too retrograde, perhaps a Valentine's Day vest (upper left corner, below) might fit the bill?

Of course, little girls love Valentine's Day, at least according to the pattern companies. What's cuter than a two year old decked out in hearts, ribbon, and lace? Sadly, she doesn't come dipped in chocolate with creamy caramel centers.

If you wish, you can spend the next two weeks making Valentine's Day decorations, to fill your house with the spirit of the season. A heart wreath!

A heart quilt!

Heart-shaped jewelry cases!

A...um...what is this, exactly?

Readers, in closing, will you be sewing something special for Valentine's Day? Have you ever given -- or received -- a homemade Valentine's Day gift? If so, was it appreciated?

Valentine's Day sewing -- Yea or Nay?

PS -- What's your favorite nun movie?

And Show It Goes...

2012-01-29T10:36:00.002-05:00

Friends, our cabaret show, Noah's Very Unusual Insight, is finally over! It was fun to do but also a lot of work, and I am WAY glad to be able to move on to other things. I feel like the new year hasn't really gotten underway yet!

We had great audiences both nights, and as you can see, we really perfected our synchronized hand choreography!

Last night there was a real live critic in the audience (the professional kind). Hopefully he'll be forgiving.

In non-showbiz-related news, today I'm having brunch with my friend Johanna and Rachel, and believe me, I'm going to get on Rachel's case about neglecting her blogging duties. Evidently we'll be stopping at Paron's and I guess we'll see if there's anything left to buy there before they make the big move to 39th Street. (It sounds like other bloggers got the good stuff.) I haven't been fabric shopping all year, so maybe I'll indulge, though you know me, I like to shop solo (and preferably in a putty nose and buck teeth disguise).

What else? Our DSL service has deteriorated so badly of late that we've decided to spring for cable Internet, and -- get this -- it's actually going to be cheaper. When I told someone recently that we still have DSL, they actually laughed at me. It was humiliating.

That's all, folks. I'm exhausted, and we've been hosting Michael's sister who flew in for a visit from L.A. Sara is a high-end consignment store fanatic and went on a major spree yesterday. Here she is in her new Galliano vest, stretch jeans, and Rag & Bone shoes. I would show you her new Prada pumps but with my DSL in its current state it would take another hour to upload the photo. Maybe tomorrow.

Happy Sunday, everybody!

The Ugly Truth

2012-01-27T09:34:00.024-05:00

Readers, think about it: when's the last time somebody really unattractive became famous? Newt Gingrich? He's been around awhile. John Belushi? He's been dead for decades.

It may be hard to believe, but in the early Nineteen-Thirties, comic actress Marie Dressler, already over sixty and with the face of an English Bulldog, was THE number one Hollywood box office attraction, which she remained until her death at sixty-five. Watch an old movie of hers like Min and Bill or Dinner at Eight and you'll immediately understand why. She was a powerhouse.

Do you remember Margaret Hamilton? No beauty, she. But Hamilton was one of the most beloved character actresses in Hollywood history, due primarily to her role as the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. (Parenthetically, isn't it spooky that she looks like the fraternal twin of co-star, scarecrow Ray Bolger, who was equally lacking in the looks department and even more popular than she, despite it?)

Both movies and television used to be teeming with, frankly, funny-looking women: Martha Raye (pictured up top), Ann B. Davis, Alice Pearce, Thelma Ritter, Kay Ballard, Imogene Coca, Alice Ghostley -- the list goes on and on. Even some huge stars like Carol Burnett started out playing ugly ducklings and goofballs.

Kay Ballard

Alice Pearce as Gladys Kravitz on "Bewitched"

Alice Ghostley (Another "Betwitched" alum)

The young Carol Burnett

These actresses made a name for themselves based on their looks as surely as Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly did. But these were women (primarily though not exclusively) who were not afraid to take their middle-of-the-road (or worse) looks to exaggerated extremes for comic effect. They looked like people we really knew and we loved them for it. Perhaps we didn't project our romantic fantasies on them, but they made us laugh and they made us cry.

Marjorie Main

Thelma Ritter

To some extent, this has been true for men as well. So many beloved stars like Jimmy Durante, William Demarest, Jackie Gleason, and W.C. Fields were either fat, old, bald, or some combination thereof, and it made no difference. Like a beloved uncle or grandfather, we took these funny-looking men to heart. And they weren't all comics: think Edward G. Robinson or Charles Laughton.

William Demarest, Uncle Charlie on "My Three Sons"

It seems like today, we're surrounded by pretty faces. Our media-saturated environment rarely makes room for the unattractive. Even when an actor or actress becomes famous as a fat person -- think Jennifer Hudson, Ricky Lake, Star Jones -- they quickly drop weight faster than a high school wrestler. Even Oprah has exploited her own weight problems to become the living embodiment of the Cinderella fantasy, albeit with quite a few bumps along the road (and she's exploited those too).

Television shows like Extreme Makeover and The Swan have been fixated on turning people with so-called physical flaws into pageant contestants. As a culture, we seem to have few problems with extremes of economic inequality, but if a poor girl has a weak chin, by God, she deserves a chance in life! (At least to look gorgeous at her high school reunion)

Of course, many funny-looking female comics have played right into this make-over obsession, becoming poster-children for radical plastic surgery: Phyllis Diller, Roseanne Barr, Kathy Griffin, Totie Fields (and the winner is...Joan Rivers!). It's remarkable when you think about it. Women comics may make a career out of knocking their looks, but given half a chance, off to the cosmetic surgeon they go. Thoughts?

Remember when Roseanne Barr looked like this?

It's different for men, of course, though, obviously looks matter. Still, there's plenty of room for a jowly Donald Trump or an octogenarian Regis Philbin on prime time.

Its easier for men for one reason, I believe. Heterosexual men are biologically hard-wired to seek out women who display the (youthful) traits associated with beauty, among them soft skin, thick hair, perky breasts, and shapely butts. (This is all about sex and propagation, folks.) While some historical eras have embraced heavier female bodies, the fixation on youthful women transcends culture, geography, and historic time. Old women may be venerated, but they aren't desired like young women are.

Why else could Andy Rooney age naturally on 60 Minutes when Barbara Walters is expected to look eternally fifty-something-ish on every news show she appears on? (She's eighty-two.)

Even female politicians like Sarah Palin and Michelle Bachmann are made over and expected to be knockouts. Where's the female equivalent of the Basset Hound-faced Ron Paul, I ask?

I don't read a lot of blogs, but Sally McGraw's Already Pretty is one of my favorites. Sometimes reading it, however, I'm struck by how hard it seems to be for so many women to feel good about their bodies and the way they look in general. Young men may be obsessed with building muscles or comparing their sexual endowments, but men have nothing like Already Pretty (can you imagine a blog called Already Handsome?), or the scores of womens beauty and fitness magazines, diet books, and the like.

Perhaps it's time we restored our appreciation for the homely among us. Maybe they have something to teach to us about self-acceptance, putting our looks in perspective, and having the last laugh.

In closing, do you agree that we seem to have less tolerance for unattractive people these days? Is it harder today for someone who's not pretty or handsome than it was, say, a few generations ago? Are we the same, but the media environment has changed?

If you're from a country other than the United States, are things different where you live, or would you say that beauty, and trying to look beautiful, is as much a cultural obsession there as it is here?

Does the same double standard between men and women exist?

Jump in!

Vogue Pattern Winner + Recent Acquisitions!

2012-01-25T09:01:00.005-05:00

First, friends, we have our winner of V2787, the glamorous 1948 Vogue repro pattern!

She's a lover of savory vegetable pot pie made with barley and red lentils who uses butter in her pastry, put your hands together for SONDRA!

Sondra, please shoot me an email (peterlappinnyc at gmail dot com) and I'll get your pattern off to you ASAP. Congratulations!

Meanwhile, readers, you may be wondering what else has been going on in my life. I've been a little distracted preparing for our upcoming show this Friday and Saturday, so I haven't been doing any sewing to speak of, and yes, I know it's been nearly a month now. One must recharge one's batteries, though, and I think I may need a complete new set.

So far this year I have been very good about shopping on eBay, or rather not shopping on eBay. In fact, only last night I decided that of all the things I need right now, a Dritz needle board is not one of them. Even second hand those things are expensive!

I did buy a DVD the other day, however. I've been anxious to see O'Mast, the documentary about Neapolitan tailors and tailoring, for nearly a year now. Have you seen this short clip from the film? It looks marvelous.

O'MAST from Kid Dandy on Vimeo.

Anyway, there have been a few screenings in NYC, but I've missed them all, so I decided to treat myself to my own copy. It should arrive shortly and I'll let you know what it's like.

You may also be wondering about my new Claire Shaeffer Couture Sewing Techniques Workshop DVD. I received it last week and will have more to say about it in a future post. In brief: I loved it and who knew there were so many kinds of hand sewing needles?

Readers, do you remember this sparkly fabric I bought last summer?

I finally found the pattern for it, which I picked up for just a few dollars on Etsy the other day. It's very Diane Von Furstenberg meets Halston with a twist of Liza, don't you think? (I'll be making the pants version.)

Of course, I could have cobbled this look together using patterns I already own, but since I'm giving away a pattern today, I figured I could make room for one more. Does that make sense?

Finally, I bought a book (I know, I know...), Lynda Mayard's The Dressmaker's Handbook of Couture Sewing Techniques.

I am hoping this will be a sort of intermediate-level book for those who want to do more hand sewing, but aren't entirely ready to give up their serger. It's spiral bound, so that's exciting. We'll see what it's like...

Readers, that's it!

Are you familiar with the Maynard book? How would you compare it to Claire Shaeffer? I'll have more to say about why I'm buying all these couture books...as soon as I figure it out myself.

Anybody out there thread tracing their seam lines?

Happy Wednesday, everybody!

Pattern Stash Confessions, Part 2 + Pass the Pie!

2012-01-24T15:14:00.022-05:00

Readers, I was stunned -- stunned -- to discover how many MPB readers are simply nuts about pie!

And speaking of pie, many of you are probably wondering what kind of pie I like. I'll be brief(ish): While I enjoy a savory shepherd's pie from time to time (I am fortunate to live near the extraordinary Myers of Keswick grocery store, which offers a vast selection of fresh, savory English pies daily), pie to me remains primarily a sweet dessert.

A homemade pie made with fresh ingredients is almost always a pleasure to eat. I loathe artificial sugar substitutes and prefer my pie served alone rather than laden with whipped cream, swimming in melted ice cream or dripping with molten cheddar cheese. A lemon meringue pie, not too sweet, is a marvelous thing, especially if the meringue is mile high and slightly toasted on top.

I love cherry pie, especially with sour cherries, but I find this kind of pie is often made with inferior canned cherries and has a soggy crust. Whole Foods makes a decent cherry pie, not to-die-for but not bad for store bought. Nothing beats a delicious slice of fresh apple pie, but I've found that apple pies often have thick, leaden crusts, and the apple filling is not sufficiently baked (I don't want applesauce, but I like my apple pie juicy), or there is too much cinnamon. Less is more. Same goes with sugar -- not too sweet, please. While I do like pecan pie, it's usually too sweet, or too full of Karo syrup and not enough pecans.

Finally, in autumn, nothing is more delicious to me than pumpkin or squash pie. I prefer mine light, not too sweet, and slightly chilled.

My goodness, what a pie snob I've become! Come to think of it, I prefer cake. Let's move on. You have till midnight EST tonight to throw your hat in the ring for the Vintage Vogue pattern I'm giving away, and you don't have to mention pie at all.

Today, I finally documented my men's pattern stash! Readers, I own roughly one hundred men's patterns (every time I count I come up with a slightly different number). Scary.

Here's a bit of pattern shopping advice: never buy a "lot" on eBay. You will always end up with many more patterns than you want and/or need. (There's a reason why they call it a lot. Maybe they should call it too much.) I made this mistake just once and ended up with a boxful of roughly thirty patterns, half of which were the wrong size and should be given away -- but to whom?

Men's patterns are, of course, much less varied than women's patterns and frankly, less fun. I've used a pretty wide variety considering how similar my finished projects ended up looking. I don't think anyone needs more than one pajama pattern, for example, provided it includes a nightshirt. There are slight differences in men's patterns: princess seams on a shirt, unusual pocket placement, epaulets, bell bottoms instead of straight leg, Western style shirt yokes, etc., but it's still mostly pants and shirts.

I've created a Picasa file of my men's patterns as I did for my women's patterns, and have included shots of my completed projects immediately after the pattern used. In some cases, you'll see more than one project if I used a particular pattern multiple times. I won't say this is everything I've sewn for me and Michael, but almost. It's a biggish file so you might want to save it for after dinner, perhaps accompanied by pie!

As always, you can view these pics full size by clicking on any one, which will take you directly to Picasa, where you can scroll through at your own pace or watch it as a slide show.

I love having an archive I can access easily, and I'll be adding to it as I continue to sew.

I'll bet many of you have at least a few of these patterns, am I right? As you can see, I have all the Seventies patterns anyone could possibly want, in a wide variety of sizes just in case I puff up in the next few decades. I think as far as men's patterns are concerned, I am done.

Question: Why would anyone bother to sew a man's tie? Good gracious, the thrift stores can hardly give them away. Am I missing something?

Have a great day everybody!

National Pie Day, our SECOND anniversary + Vogue Pattern GIVEAWAY!

2012-01-23T11:14:00.016-05:00

Friends, it gives me great pleasure to announce that today, January 23rd, is National Pie Day -- but that's not all!

Today is also our second anniversary here at MPB. That's right, folks, on this day just two years ago, Male Pattern Boldness was born. Today we're walking, talking, and nearly toilet trained!

Just like last year, the cables, cards, and flowers have been arriving nonstop from so many celebrities and friends around the world, including --

Mae West

Miss Barbara Stanwyck

Dr. Lorna Gallo (soon to be seen in the uproarious Noah's Very Unusual Insight)

The surviving cast members of Petticoat Junction

And so many more.

As has become a tradition here at MPB, I have a very special pattern giveaway for you on this very special day. It's the beautiful Vintage Vogue repro 1948 pattern, V2787, in a (contemporary) size 12-14-16 (34", 36", 38" bust). The pattern is complete and uncut.

Isn't it dreamy?

Can you name these two lovely bloggettes in their own versions?

MPB readers the world over are eligible for this giveaway, and all you have to do is leave a comment below. Please share your favorite kind of pie, most inspiring MPB moment of last year, or just let off steam. (If you want to say hi but don't want the pattern, just let me know.)

As always, our staff are here for you, and qualified clinical social workers are standing by.*

You have until Tuesday (tomorrow) midnight EST to enter, and I'll announce the winner on Wednesday.

I wish all of you a very Happy Second Anniversary -- please have a slice of pie on me.

Have a great day, everybody!

*MPB is not liable for any illness, injury, disability or death attributable to your existing physical condition or any deterioration in the same, nor responsible for any loss, claim, damage, or any direct, incidental or consequential damages of any kind which arises out of or is in any way connected with your use of this website.

Pattern Stash Confessions, Part 1

2012-01-21T18:34:00.009-05:00

Help.

Readers, as you know, I am always trying to organize myself better. In the last six months, I have discarded many unnecessary household items. I dust my Ken dolls regularly. I even started sorting my wigs! Today I decided it was time to revisit my pattern stash, starting with my women's patterns.

What a wake-up call: I have more than a hundred women's patterns -- slips, coats, robes, gowns, jumpers, blouses, suits, swimwear -- everything but maternity. I only started sewing in June 2009; at this rate, I'll need a storage locker by the 2015.

Readers, please believe me when I tell you that before I counted, I had absolutely no idea how big my stash was. I just knew it was getting too big for the credenza shelves where I store them. Many of the patterns in my stash I purchased, many others (more than half?) were given to me. I've given away quite a few in turn, but somehow, I never seem to make much of a dent in my collection. Once I own them I find it hard to part with them -- do you know what I mean?

A recently acquired favorite.

Someday I will conquer my fear of faux fur.

I decided to archive them this afternoon in a Picasa file, so that I could sort through them quickly. What has happened a number of times is that I'll almost purchase something I already own. That would make me very unhappy.

I'm ambivalent about a button-down evening gown.

Always nice when a pattern comes with a message!

My collection starts in the mid to late Twenties and ends in contemporary times. (A few downloaded BurdaStyle patterns aren't included.) You may notice a larger number of patterns from the Forties and early Seventies, but I think I have pretty much every period covered. Notice any conspicuous absences? Maybe the mid-Eighties Gunne Sax...

You can view my stash in the slide show below. If I made a particular pattern, you'll see a pic immediately after it of Cathy in the outfit. You can click through to the Picasa file itself to see the patterns full size. They are in approximate chronological order.

I am certain nearly all of you own at least one of these.

Readers, I must ask: how big is your pattern stash? If you purchase vintage patterns, do you buy them to use or to collect, or both? I never wanted a collection per se, and I only purchase patterns I hope to make. As you can see, I have a lot of work ahead of me!

In closing, friends, do you have a rule about the size of your stash --like when you get to a hundred, you refuse to add more till you've gotten rid of some of the others, or does your stash just get bigger, and bigger, and bigger?

How many patterns do you own: Too few? Just enough? Too many?

Confess!

Clothes Shopping for Men vs. Clothes Shopping for Women

2012-01-20T11:28:00.014-05:00

BREAKING NEWS, FEMALE READERS: I get it.

I mean, I really get it. I now understand why women sew.

I owe this epiphany to a recent article on the Cracked.com website, The 7 Most Baffling Things About Women's Clothes, by Christine H.

You must read it and tell me whether or not you agree with her arguments. A few of her points were familiar to me, like arbitrary (vanity) sizing, but others I had never thought about before, like her complaint that the fabric is often too thin, or the garment inappropriate for cool weather (or a cool office) due to the amount of skin left exposed.

I'm going to tell you something you probably already know: clothes shopping for most men is so easy you could do it in your sleep, or certainly from a catalog. There are two basic reasons for this: 1) traditional men's clothing is always available, and 2) it does. not. change. Or if it does, the changes are so slight and rolled out so slowly, that only if you're wearing a sweater from, say, 1947, do you notice that knit waistbands were a little wider back then, or that ties were somewhat wider (after having been narrower, which followed immediately upon their being wider, narrower, wider, narrower, etc.). Maybe I exaggerate, but my basic point is valid.

For example, whether we're talking Goodwill or Nordstrom, you can always find some version of the following items:

Khaki pants.

A light blue button down oxford shirt.

Penny loafers.

A gray crewneck wool sweater.

A classic field jacket.

Too conservative? Dress it down with Converse All Stars.

If you're sportier still, you can wear an Adidas tracksuit almost anywhere these days.

Traditional types can opt for a leather bomber jacket, available today at L.L. Bean as it has been for decades.

For more formal occasions, a blue pinstripe suit. Always in fashion.

Readers, the list goes on and on, and you can wear these clothes from eight to eighty and beyond. If you want to dress exactly like Humphrey Bogart did in Casablanca, you don't have to hunt in a vintage clothing store. If a gray-flanneled Gregory Peck is more your style, you can create that look too, easily, hat and rep tie included.

Men's clothing is basically a uniform, and has been for more than a century. There's the business uniform, the preppy-casual uniform, and the sporty uniform (probably a few others too), but whichever one you choose, you don't have to be creative or up on the latest trends. Just go to most any department store or thrift shop. So easy. You may not look like you stepped out of GQ magazine, but you won't raise any eyebrows either. You'll just look...normal.

Now let's take women's clothes. I did a little casual research (the only kind I do) and searched for women's dress in Google Images. Here's what I found scads of (these three are from J. Crew but they're typical): skimpy "party" dresses I don't think most women could wear to work. In fact, other than dinner out in a warm climate (bring a sweater as most restaurants are air-conditioned), I'm not sure where you'd wear these dresses. Any ideas?

Based on recent comments regarding fashion trends, it sounds like some seasons there simply are no basics -- navy skirts or simple gray slacks -- available for women. (Is this true even at L.L. Bean?)

As far as women's shoes are concerned...eek!

In closing, readers, why do you think men's clothes never change? Is it because most men aren't interested in fashion, or are most men not interested in fashion because men's clothes never change?

With regard to The 7 Most Baffling Things About Women's Clothes, are there any other baffling things you'd like to add?

Enlightenment sought!

Life is a Cabaret!

2012-01-19T11:09:00.003-05:00

NOTE TO SELF: Buy new lashes.

Friends, it's finally here:

On Friday, January 27 @ 7 pm and Saturday, January 28 @ 9:30 pm, Michael and I will be performing our cabaret show, Noah's Very Unusual Insight, for a return engagement!

Below is a short preview of this tuneful (and topical) show, and there's so much more, including two brand new musical numbers: a Jerry Herman ballad sung by yours truly and a rousing duet familiar to fans of Gypsy and/or the Family Frolic Night episode of The Brady Bunch.

You'll laugh, you'll cry -- it is SO much better than Cats.

Tickets are $15/$10 for seniors + a 2-drink minimum. (The Duplex is at 61 Christopher Street & Seventh Avenue in Manhattan. Click here to make reservations (you don't have to pay until the night of the show).

Hope you can make it, and be sure to stay after and say hello to me if you do!

Have a great day, everybody!

Peter's Fashion Forecast for 2012!

2012-01-18T10:49:00.018-05:00

Readers, imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon the book Fashion Trends: Analysis and Forecasting by Eundeok Kim, Ann Marie Fiore, and Hyejeong Kim at my local library yesterday. Talk about synchronicity!

I eagerly paged through it and discovered it to be about as dry as a fashion-related book can be, though, granted, it's a textbook. If this doesn't turn students off fashion trend analysis nothing will.

There's a dirty little secret buried at the end of this book (p. 153) and it's quite the eyebrow raiser: "...most U.S. retailers experience large errors in their sales forecasts, resulting in dramatic financial losses. According to the U.S. Census Bureau and National Retail Federation, U.S. retailers are losing more than $200 billion a year due to forecast errors (Kumar & Patel, 2008).

Yes, folks, $200 billion. What does that tell you about the success of fashion forecasting?

My hunch is that if I told you to dig around the Internet and come up with ten likely fashion trends for Fall 2012, you could do it by tomorrow morning. You don't need a Ph.D. and you can skip Fashion Trends: Analysis and Forecasting. You need to be creative, observant, confident in your choices, and able to justify them.

Let's face it, nobody knows for sure what's going to happen tomorrow, whether it's in economics, politics, or fashion. But decisions need to be made today and forecasting gives us the confidence and -- when necessary (like when sales suck) -- provides a justification, so we don't lose our jobs.

It's not our fault -- Pantone predicted Tangerine Tango!

The truth is that people who need clothes are largely going to be limited to what's in the stores. They'll have to buy something, so if they're told that the big color is orange and that's what they see, they're going to buy orange. They may prefer red, but if there's no red to be had, they won't be buying red. Which helps to justify our choice of orange. If orange doesn't meet expectations, though, we can always blame it on the economy, the weather, or bloggers.

It's like American presidential campaigns. By the time elections happen, we're choosing between two people we can't stand, neither of whom will represent our interests. But if we're going to vote, this is the choice we have, and invariably a vote in favor of candidate A or B will be interpreted as a mandate for his or her positions, though it's nothing of the kind.

Just as it's no surprise that relatively few people end up voting, it's shouldn't be a shock to discover that a growing number of people today are shopping in thrift stores, making their own clothes, and snubbing their noses at fashion forecasting. They've dropped out of the "fashion system" and are doing their own thing or whatever their immediate peer group is doing. Or the opposite of that.

Friends, here are my five fashion predictions for 2012. I invite you to add some of your own, below.

1) Women and men will continue to wear tight jeans. In fact, the big word for 2012 is denim. Does this sound a lot like last year's prediction, and the year before that? Surprise!

2) Men will increasingly adopt the late Nineteenth Century prospector look. Plaid vests, tight pants, suspenders, long underwear, high laced boots, wire frame granny glasses, and shaggy beards. Fashion forward types will blacken a few teeth.

3) Vintage-inspired fashion will continue to grow in popularity. Mad Men-inspired dressing will wane, as young people rediscover Here's Lucy and The Mother's In-Law on DVD. It's all about 1968!

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4. BIG colors for Fall 2012: Dusty Rose (think Cathy's Forties coat) and Teal (because Michael says so). If not Fall 2012, maybe Fall 2013. Anyway, it will happen eventually so don't be caught behind the trend.

5. Black is the new black. Yes, black is back, and will replace navy, tan, and gray as the neutral du jour. Expect to see black in men's swimsuits, men's and women's shoes, women's pants, and men's formal wear. Plus all-things funeral-related. A return to the classics!

Readers, I think that's enough forecasting for now -- I don't want to overwhelm you, or myself.

Please tell us about the trends you're seeing in your neck of the woods and what you predict for the coming year. Should anyone be investing in day-glo at this point? And after Tangerine Tango...what?

Of course, please (briefly) share why you believe your predictions are likely to come true. Be creative!

Have a great day, everybody!

The Demise of Dainty

2012-01-16T12:11:00.017-05:00

Friends, whatever happened to dainty?

I am talking about the word dainty, used not to describe a porcelain tea set, but rather to describe women and all things female.

Just so we're all on the the same page, the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the word dainty as marked by delicate or diminutive beauty, form, or grace.

Between the World Wars, dainty became synonymous with "feminine hygiene" -- itself a rather dainty way of saying clean genitals.

Dainty was always an ideal; nobody's born dainty.

For decades it was a way to connote a certain kind of fragile beauty, a frilly femininity -- all ruffles, posies, and sweet smiles. But, perhaps as a backlash, it eventually took on a negative meaning, synonymous with prissy, fussy, and fastidious, and is more likely to be used as a put-down today.

A very dainty Forties dress pattern.

Soprano singing star Jane Powell was the quintessence of Forties daintiness -- pretty (but not sexy), petite, and not too pushy -- in films like A Date With Judy.

Elizabeth Taylor started out as dainty, playing a fragile, sweet-tempered ingenue in Cynthia at age sixteen. Just a few years later, however, in A Place in the Sun, a more voluptuous, confident Elizabeth represented something much more dangerous and decidedly less dainty.

Let's fact facts: nobody in the West expects women to be dainty anymore and perhaps that's a good thing. There was something repressive about the very concept of dainty that denied women their own strength and sexuality.

But there was something optimistic about dainty, too, something youthful and appealingly innocent.

In 1945, Jeanne Crain, playing an Iowa farm girl (top pic) in the film State Fair. could sing, longingly:

I keep wishing I were somewhere else,
Walking down a strange new street.
Hearing words that I have never heard,
From a man I've yet to meet.

Eighteen years later we had the hip-swiveling bombshell Ann-Marget, playing a suburban teenager in Bye Bye Birdie crooning:

There are men of nineteen or twenty
Who are suave and reckless and true
Older men who give a girl plenty
I've gotta a lot of livin' to do

And we knew exactly what kind of livin' she was talking about. Dainty was seriously endangered.

Today, Britney Spears, croaks the double-entendre'd:

If I said my heart was beating loud
If we could escape the crowd somehow
If I said I want your body now
Would you hold it against me.

Britney is to dainty what Agent Orange is to the California redwoods.

What a journey we've traveled in a just a few generations!

Even Walt Disney studios, which did more to extend the life of dainty than any other filmmaker, with its shiny re-tellings of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, all scrubbed of their gruesome bits, replaced the warbly, uber-dainty soprano sound of it's heroines (think Snow White) with a more confident Broadway-style belt (think The Little Mermaid). Dainty went the way of the dodo.

Readers, just what killed off dainty? I can identify a number of factors, none by themselves the proverbial nail in the coffin, but all contributing to dainty's (unavoidable) demise:

a) World Wars I & II, which forced women into traditionally male roles;

b) The pill, which disconnected sex from the fear of pregnancy;

c) Marilyn Monroe, whose joyful sexual expressiveness was a direct attack on the delicate, dainty ideal;

d) Vladimir Nabokov's novel Lolita, which revealed that a dainty facade may be just that, a facade;

e) Films like Rebel Without a Cause, that presented young people of both sexes as alienated from the adult world, and depicted them as multidimensional beings as opposed to sunny songbirds.

In closing, readers, is dainty something you ever aspired to be, or were taught you should be?

Is dainty truly dead, or does it live on in the cultural crevices: Disney princesses, Barbie pink, and Casey's Elegant Musings?

In your opinion, when we dumped dainty, did we throw out the baby with the bathwater, or was it good-bye and good riddance? Do you ever feel nostalgic for dainty?

Speak up, Ladies (and Gents), but please, don't shout.

Dress Silhouettes Gone Wrong + POLL!

2012-01-15T13:53:00.023-05:00

Readers, do you believe in objective truth? Do some ideas live in the universal mind and transcend both history and geography? Are some concepts simply not up for discussion?

I believe that, despite changing fashion trends and cultural differences, the human eye finds -- and has always found -- beauty in the natural silhouette of the human body, and humans have chosen to attire themselves in garments that closely echo that silhouette. There are different body shapes, certainly, but the differences are relatively minor.

When we examine women's fashion of the last hundred years or so, we find that fashion has often followed or sought subtly to enhance, the natural lines of the body. But we also discover trends in which the "ideal" silhouette presented is in conflict with the body's natural shape, putting the waist at the hips, say, or the shoulders as high as the earlobes. Worse, "fashion" has sometimes reshaped the body into no clearly identifiable shape at all! This is all likely due to the fashion industry's need to increase sales, a desire among fashion designers to court controversy, and downright misogyny.

While no doubt considered the height of fashion at the time, we often revisit these silhouettes in horror. How could we have been so stupid not to see what is (now) so obvious?

Friends, today I would like to share a group of such dress patterns with you. Depending on your age and eyesight, some of these dresses may look appealing. Rest assured, these patterns were not chosen arbitrarily, but rather derived from a complicated algorithm. This is science, not opinion.

Below are a few highlights. You can view the grouping in its entirety here. Occasionally, one view on the pattern envelope may look acceptable. Discount that and seek out the view that is a nightmare -- it's there.

As you can see, the biggest culprit here is the ruffle. This detail, used sparingly on an apron edge or petticoat hem, may charm. Used in excess however, or intentionally applied to a part of the body where gathered fullness distorts our natural human proportions into something freakish, they are an embarrassment.

Unless you are 1) square dancing, or 2) reenacting the Charles and Diana wedding, please use ruffles sparingly. (Infant-wear excluded.)

Another blemish on the fashion world is the effort to impose exaggerated geometry on the human (primarily female) body. Few of us are truly rectangular, and yet in the 1980s, many dresses might just as well have been cardboard boxes, perhaps with Old Gold written across the front.

These patterns look wrong because they were wrong -- wrong according to taste, truth, and a very sophisticated algorithm I cannot share with you.

Finally, there is the attempt to create the panted version of every dress, no doubt in an attempt to court the casual, comfort-minded consumer, regardless of what the result might look like. I can only say ugh, or rather ugg-a-wugg.

In closing sophisticated readers, do you agree with the basic thrust of my argument (and my top-secret algorithm)? Can you see how attempts to distort the natural shape of the human body fail every time, and are met with little more than derision in hindsight? Are you hiding any vintage nightmares in your closet?

Please complete the following poll:

NOTE: An ugly rumor has been circulating in the blogosphere to the effect that I hate orange. I do not hate orange. On me, it is an atrocity, but if you like it, more power to you. Tangerine Tango, on the other hand, may end up being the Eighties knee-ruffle of tomorrow.

What is your favorite silhouette and are giant shoulder pads and parachute pants involved?

Jump in!

More on Color Forecasting, etc.

2012-01-13T14:10:00.012-05:00

Friends, I know you're eager to continue yesterday's discussion about Tangerine Tango, not to be confused with Clementine Clog Step, Satsuma Slide, or Kumquat Gavotte.

Amateur sleuth that I am, I decided to do some online research to see just how deeply Tangerine Tango has penetrated the American consumer market. Answer: not very. First, I made a beeline for the Lord & Taylor dress department, well, actually the LordandTaylor.com dress department, where I looked at tiny photos of hundreds of women's dresses. I found virtually nothing in anything even close to Tangerine Tango. In fact, judging by Lord & Taylor, the big colors are purple, emerald, and other jewel tones -- no citrus fruit at all.

Even when you search specifically under orange, the closest I found was a cute little one-shoulder polyester dress in Papaya.

Here's what I think: a Lord & Taylor buyer with a head on her shoulders realized that if she jumped on the Tangerine Tango bandwagon, there'd be a lot of rotting fruit on the racks come Spring. Surely store buyers must recognize that orange is a difficult color for most -- most -- people and much more suitable for the cheap accessory than the big purchase.

Other than Clio, who looks good in orange? I want names, people, names.

I also did a search under orange appliance in the Home & Kitchen section of Amazon. There wasn't much. You can get a tangerine (though not Tangerine Tango) classic Kitchenaid mixer for a few hundred dollars (see top pic), but they offer a wide array of colors, not just orange.

I looked over at the Bed, Bath & Beyond website and it's slim pickings in orange -- a plastic pitcher here, a Bodum coffee maker there. Usually the orange you do see is that late-Nineties iMac orange (remember those candy-colored computers of yore?). Most definitely not Tangerine Tango.

Moving right along, I realized that I actually do know someone in the field of fashion/color forecasting, a man I met a book launch event last fall who happens also to be a well-known paper doll enthusiast and illustrator. I am going to reach out to him and find out more about color forecasting. I may wait till the dust dies down on yesterday's post in which I basically trash the forecasting field, however.

In other news...

You may have noticed that a few things have changed in the Comments section of this blog in the last few days. You now have the option to respond directly to a specific comment. I invite you to use this feature, though please treat each other with kindness -- not all of us are writing in our native language. Avete capito?

I must return to sewing before I forget how. This Twenties dress, straight out of a Clara Bow movie, is high on my list.

Finally, now that we're into 2012, I have made my first sewing-related purchase!

It is the Couture Techniques Workshop Basics with Claire Shaeffer DVD. Are you familiar with it? As much as I like to read about sewing -- and I still intend to review the revised edition of Claire Shaeffer's book Couture Sewing Techniques -- I really love to have things shown to me. (It was the Margaret Islander Shirtmaking DVD, a bootleg copy of which I was given by someone whose anonymity I will respect as the original costs a fortune, that taught me how to sew my first successful men's shirt, and I've watched that DVD, easily, fifty times or more. I love her.)

Do you like sewing videos?

Friends, that's it. Those with time on your hands, where can we find Tangerine Tango today? Bloomingdales? Macy's? Kmart? Please do some research and report back.

Have a great day, everybody!

The Wacky World of Color Forecasting

2012-01-12T14:23:00.030-05:00

Before I get started, why does current fashion illustration make women look like Bratz dolls? I don't like it one bit.

Moving right along...

Friends, how much do you know about color forecasting? I don't know much, but you'd have to live on Mars not to have heard that Pantone's official Color of the Year for 2012 is Tangerine Tango, aka orange. (You can read more about it here.) I hate to sound grumpy -- I am still recovering from my weekend cold -- but I was "over" that color ten seconds after seeing it; to me it screams Guantanamo Bay prisoner jumpsuits.

Why should we care about a Color of the Year? Is there a food of the year we eat to the exclusion of others? (2012 -- Year of the Pickle!) The beauty of sewing our own clothes is that we're free of the limitations of what's available at the stores and all this forecasting drivel. We don't have to dig through racks of Tangerine Tango stuff in search of something that's actually flattering or that ten million other people aren't wearing. (Read this in your best robot voice, arms extended like zombie: Must. Wear. Orange. Must. Wear. Orange.)

In this day and age, when every kind of authority is being questioned (with good reason), why does color forecasting still hold sway? My understanding is that many different industries pay big bucks to the companies that do color forecasting. Color choices have to made for all sorts of things: appliances, carpeting, wallpaper, car interiors, makeup -- the list goes on and on -- and nobody wants to be off trend. When I was growing up in the early Seventies, appliances were all avocado and harvest gold, avocado and harvest gold: phones, mixers, refrigerators, kitchen tile, plastic dinnerware, paper napkins, etc. This was not coincidence, but the result of color forecasting.

I had to dig, but I finally located this old Milliken "Fashion Colors for 1971" booklet I found years ago. It presents an evocative theme for the colors Milliken would be producing (in textiles) that year. The overall palette is the American Southwest, with groupings of colored swatches labeled "Grand Canyon," "Indian Brights," "Painted Desert," etc.

It's not so much the individual colors, but rather the color combinations that are remarkable -- I remember them so well from childhood clothes I owned or from TV shows. You find them in old sewing pattern envelope art too. Do any of them feel familiar?

The Brady Bunch looking very "Sierra Sands" with a hint of "Painted Desert."

Then, just as now, colors were given provocative new names consistent with the fashion "story" they were meant to tell. Just as orange is now Tangerine Tango, in 1971, Milliken called its vibrant red War Paint. The Native American population was thrilled.

More Milliken color samples pics here.

So I ask you: as sewers, how much attention, if any, do you pay to color forecasts like the one from Pantone? When I saw the men's forecast for Spring 2012, I couldn't relate in the least. The descriptions of the colors themselves are so banal and the color choices....you won't find me in Starfish (aka beige), rest assured. To me this whole forecasting idea seems very played out and Twentieth Century. Do you agree?

In closing, when you hear a color is Color of the Year, does that make you run toward it or away from it -- screaming?

Anybody have additional insights into this industry they wish to share?

Have a great day, everybody!

On "Famous Frocks" and sewing books in general

2012-01-10T12:52:00.028-05:00

Friends, I'm happy to report that I'm feeling much better and was able to make it to the library yesterday, where I happened upon a copy of the new sewing book Famous Frocks by Sara Alm and Hannah McDevitt. Are you familiar with it?

I rarely find sewing books at the library, not that I look for them much. I own a ton already and have leafed through even more, but I find that for my current level of sewing -- which I'd categorize as intermediate, whatever that really means -- there isn't much new; the masters remain the masters. And let's face it, 90% of what a sewist is ever going to need to know can be found in the highly untrendy Reader's Digest Complete Guide to Sewing. Am I wrong?

More experienced sewers are already committed to their craft and don't need a strong hook to lure them into a book purchase, or expect a book to come with patterns included. And they probably already own too many (books and patterns).

But demographics change and a new generation of sewers demands its own sewing books, and why not? But to judge from many of the new sewing books, the focus today is on making sewing fun. I have a lot of thoughts about why this is the case, but I'll save that for another post.

So I borrowed Famous Frocks and had a look.

It's much easier to criticize other people's work than to create your own, readers, and a lot of how a book ends up is beyond the author's control. That said, as much as I wanted to love Famous Frocks, I was a little disappointed. Here's why and I'll be specific.

The title and subheading of this book are a bit misleading. The authors choose 10 celebrities with highly identifiable (some to the point of banality) signature looks (Jackie, Audrey, Marilyn, Twiggy: all present and accounted for). The book includes a paper pattern reinterpreting (i.e. simplifying) each iconic look. Included too is a slight variation for each look/dress.

While Jackie's signature A-line is attributed to Oleg Cassini, Audrey's LBD to Givenchy, and Marilyn's Seven Year Itch dress to William Travilla, no designer is mentioned for Bette Davis, although Orry-Kelly and Edith Head played a huge role in creating her onscreen wardrobe. Am I being too picky? No designer is mentioned with regard to Twiggy either.   Shouldn't a book entitled Famous Frocks either mention all the frock's original designers, or the designers behind the icon's famous look?

Farrah Fawcett is shown in what is referred to as a wrap dress, "likely inspired by none other than Diane von Furstenberg." Notice anything unusual about this wrap dress, eagle-eyed readers?

Whoops, it's a shirtdress. Anyway, Farrah's hair was iconic, and the book includes a wrap dress pattern, which I think most people prefer to a shirtdress these days anyway.

The book contains no photographs of its patterns sewn up, just leggy illustrations, which may have had more to do with budget constraints than anything else, but I think the book really suffers for it.

You can see some versions of the finished dresses here, at a website whose URL is buried in the closing acknowledgments. (I think some of them are cute, actually.) Much is made about uploading your own versions to famousfrocks.com.   Obviously, something went wrong.

Like so many sewing books I've seen lately, Famous Frocks seems primarily targeted at the young female Project Runway fan who'd like to learn to sew her own clothes. That's why there's a glossary with terms like baste and gather. And why pretty much all the outfits lean toward the slim 'n' sexy.

For someone like that this book could be inspiring and fun. I know I'm not the target audience. But would someone who wanted to dress like mid-Eighties Madonna also want to dress like Rita Hayworth or Twiggy?

One last pet peeve: I find some version of this in many contemporary sewing books with regard to using vintage patterns and it's here as well:

With vintage patterns, sizing and fit is always an issue...

ALWAYS? Now as then, if your measurements match those of your pattern, the garment should fit. If not -- which is more the rule than the exception -- you're going to have to make some alterations to the pattern. Sometimes, true, patterns of yore (especially Fifties-era patterns) assumed you'd be wearing different undergarments than those popular today, which would enhance the final look and affect the fit of the garment, but there's a modern version available today of virtually everything grandma wore. Or just adjust the fit.

You can see more pics of Famous Frocks here.

Finally, my dream sewing book, which isn't really a sewing book at all:

A highly experienced costumer, perhaps with the aid of a writer, deconstructs a series of actual dresses or gowns from Hollywood's Golden Age -- perhaps from a private collection; they don't have to be iconic, though ideally we would be able to track the costume to a specific film and performer -- and shows, in extreme detail, precisely what techniques were involved, specifically what materials, shortcuts, and so forth, maybe even how the design was intended to flatter or camouflage the person's body. That is a book I'd buy.

Any thoughts about favorite or not-so-favorite sewing books you wish to share?

Go for it!

Feed a Cold, Starve a Fever?

2012-01-09T10:02:00.018-05:00

Friends, I am back from a very intense, thankfully short, bout with something I'm guessing was Influenza. It came on rapidly Saturday evening and within 3-4 hours I could hardly lift my head off the pillow. I'm a big believer in letting fever do its thing (unless you have other medical problems or are a small child or elder) and now, roughly 36 hours later, I'm 85% of the way back. Was this a cold, a flu, something else entirely? Who knows. Suffice it to say I'm glad to be vertical once again and not shivering under three blankets, a ski cap, and a heavy fleece.

How did I entertain myself during this brief illness? Fortunately, I had a few DVDs from the library I could watch on my laptop while lying down.

Readers, has there ever been a truly entertaining film about West Point? Perhaps, but I'm afraid 1934's Flirtation Walk, starring Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler, ain't it.

You may think, given the leads, that this is one of those big Busby Berkeley spectaculars, but you'd be wrong. There's a lot of precision marching, sure, but it's all West Point cadets. I am almost certain none of you have seen Flirtation Walk -- which unbelievably was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Picture -- and if you never get a chance, don't worry about it. That said, I think Dick Powell had an amazingly charismatic screen presence.

Have you ever heard of The Bell Telephone Hour? These were musical shows made primarily in the Sixties featuring musical theater stars of the day, and this is a fantastic series if you find it at your local library. Yesterday I watched one featuring two beloved TV moms, Shirley Jones and Florence Henderson.

You may not know that Florence Henderson was a Broadway ingenue in the Fifties and Sixties and starred in the first national tour of The Sound of Music long before The Brady Bunch. She's delightful on this DVD, and if you have roughly four hours to spare, listen to her multi-part interview for The Archive of American Television that starts here.

This woman has had a sixty-year career (so far) and has never stopped working. Poor Shirley fares much less well on her portion of the video, I'm afraid, sounding somewhat off key and ragged throughout -- these were recorded live so maybe she had what I have now -- but looking beautiful in a series of Grecian chiffon gowns.

The Daily Ditches continue! I sold this Joe Colombo plastic cart (I had three) on Craiglist on Thursday, so even though I haven't sold any sewing machines, I now have space for all of them, sort of.

And now a very specific question one of you Blogspot bloggers might be able to answer. Since I started MPB, whenever I imported an image into the blog through the "insert image" icon, the image would automatically end up in a Male Pattern Boldness file in Picasa. Since last week, unfortunately, this no longer happens. Each imported image ends up in its own Picasa file, which is extremely inconvenient. Any idea how I can fix this, or if it's something that's changed in Picasa and/or Blogspot?

As you can see, the colder weather means the dogs are exercising on their treadmill again, which they can do for 45 minutes at a time. They seem to like it; I mean, if they didn't they could always jump off. In the background you can see that my Featherweight table sits in the far corner; I've placed a big teak tray over the hole -- there's something about the look of a gap in the middle of a table I don't love.

Readers, that's it! I am drinking lots of tea and eating lots of citrus, and just taking it easy. Sewing will have to wait but it's certainly on my radar. I hope everybody's well -- fortunately flu viruses can't be transmitted over the Internet.

Have a great -- and healthy -- day, everybody!

Sing out, Florence...

Random thoughts about aging, etc.

2012-01-05T12:59:00.022-05:00

Readers, occasionally I have random thoughts about various topics, none of which warrant a blog post all their own, or which I might flesh out sometime in the future -- or maybe one of you would like to develop one of them on your own blog; feel free. So here goes:

At the library yesterday, I passed a display of Suzanne Somers' latest diet/health book, Sexy Forever. And I found myself wondering: sexy....forever? Is that the new benchmark for health and happiness in the Twenty-First Century? I'm exhausted and I haven't even read the preface!

There are -- and probably always have been -- celebrity women I'll call "professional beauties." These are people for whom looking younger than their biological age isn't simply a goal, it's their job. Suzanne Somers is one of those people, and you can probably say the same about octogenarian Mamie Van Doren, Victoria Principal, Connie Stevens, Jane Fonda, and even the late Mae West, though she (thankfully) pre-dated the infomercial. They are their own guinea pigs for all sorts of (sometimes controversial) health, beauty, fitness, and diet regimens which may help them -- and us -- or not, but either way they rake in a lot of cash promoting them, and themselves.

I don't want this to be a judgment on Suzanne Somers and her personal self-help industry; a lot of women (her primary audience) relate to her and find the information she provides helpful, and she has always seemed like someone who'd be fun to have lunch with. In the end, we all die, though, and while I can certainly relate to wanting to remain vibrant and lucid as long as we can, I'm just not sure if these rich celebrities are the best role models for the rest of us, though they certainly have the loudest megaphone.

On a somewhat related note, occasionally I visit the Advanced Style blog, which is very beautiful and fun, but there are times when I look at those stylish elders and think 1) when you're affluent (as most of the subjects appear to be) you can afford to dress well at every age, and avail yourself of the services you'll need to keep up appearances when you're too old to do your own laundry; and 2) there's so much more to life than the way we look and so much freedom in letting that go. I already feel that way now (at nearly fifty), and I hope that just because I make my own leopard pants, you don't think that's the way I dress every day, or expect other people to.

This is not the same as not caring about oneself, but rather about focusing on the myriad aspects of being human that have nothing to do with how we assemble an outfit. Personally, I think we can learn more from, say, frumpy Eleanor Roosevelt than the "fabulous older ladies" portrayed at Advanced Style. Perhaps there's inspiration to be found from both. Thoughts?

I think it was Erica Jong in Fear of Fifty who wrote something like -- I remember this from the book review -- as an older (post-menopausal) woman she could finally focus on being a subject rather than an object. Even though I'm not a woman, let alone post-menopausal, that line stayed with me.

As a gay man, I experience a lot of the same pressures to continue to look "sexy" and appealing to others. It's a basic human need to be seen (just as an infant needs mirroring from the parent to develop a healthy sense of self) and treated with dignity, but I hope that being considered "sexy" isn't a requirement too. To me, the word sexy implies awareness of one's own sexuality and the implicit promise (or suggestion) of sexual availability -- hence, we considered Marilyn Monroe sexy (she seemed to be very aware of her own sexual power over others and flaunted it) and Eleanor Roosevelt considerably less so. Errol Flynn was sexy; Gandhi not-so-sexy.

My point is not that it isn't nice to be sexy -- and, of course, living in a part of the world where youth and youthful sexuality are prized above all else, it makes sense that many of us will have internalized those values to the point where believing we look sexy feels good, if only because we're winning at the game as the game has been presented to us. Nor am I saying that octogenarians aren't sexual. I'm arguing that there are other games in town, games which don't sell diet books, beauty creams, or Thighmasters -- or anything at all.

Oh, my, I have gone on!

I wanted to share so many other things today. My daily ditching continues! I have gotten rid of a pile of tee shirts that were ill-fitting, in unflattering colors, never worn, or some combination of all three. They didn't make me feel sexy.

Here are the dog stairs, now placed in front of the hot air blower in the living room. As you can see, the dogs love lying on it.

Friends, I slept nearly twelve hours last night, and I attribute at least some of my success to herbal sleep aid, valerian. It also helped that the dogs and Michael, who came in late last night from the opera, slept on the sofa. Anyone who has taken valerian will attest to the fact that it smells absolutely awful, but I find it effective -- a mild relaxant more than a sleeping pill, though you're not supposed to take it and drive, so don't.

Do I need my own room?

In closing, friends, how do you feel about the concept of sexy forever? If you're on the far side of fifty, do you still feel as sexy as you did at, say, thirty? If not, do you long for those sexier days, or have you found that there are sources of satisfaction in life that, if not entirely balance things out, then certainly compensate?

Are there ways to be fabulous in our later years that don't involve big hats and flamboyant eyeglass frames?

Jump -- or gingerly pad -- in!

Practical Sewing vs. "Fantasy" Sewing

2012-01-04T09:10:00.020-05:00

So I was thinking about Debbie's panties last night...

Wait. Let me explain:

Debbie has just completed sewing EIGHT pair of underwear for herself (!) which she created assembly-line style (her term). Apparently Debbie loves wearing self-made panties, though she hates making them -- but not enough not to make them!

I must say, I admire this kind of sewing: the nose-to-the-grindstone, just do it type that I hardly ever engage in. Frankly, I don't have that kind of discipline: before I sewed myself eight pair of tighty whities, I'd head over to Rite Aide and grab a bunch of Hanes three-packs.

Underwear matters to me, but so does my sewing time. Which is not to say that Debbie sews only practical things. Remember this outfit, sewn for a friend of her son's who was performing at a local Renaissance Festival, or so he told her...?

Not to mention the shirt she made for Michael last year, now one of his favorites.

I guess there's a time for everything, and sometimes our practical needs take precedence over our need to let our creativity run wild. Of course, with sewing, even practical projects can be creative. But sometimes -- like for Debbie right now -- free time is limited and addressing real clothing needs becomes the top priority. Fun -- always relative of course -- can wait.

Now, as you know, while I do engage in some practical sewing, the majority of my projects can be filed in the "fantasy" category. I put fantasy in quotes because it doesn't quite describe the type of projects I'm talking about but I couldn't think of a better word -- can you? (I'm talking about my wardrobe here, btw, not Cathy's (completely practical) work outfits; she's a professional fashion plate.)

I guess a better term would be not terribly practical, which is a mouthful.

I know nobody needs leopard print jeans. (I did wear these out to dinner New Year's Eve, btw, and received a very nice compliment from a neighborhood derelict; can you still say wino?) But they definitely have their place in my wardrobe.

As do these vivid cranberry cords:

This vintage Fifties jumpsuit I made, on the other hand, might as well be wall insulation or pillow stuffing.

What fantasy was this exactly?

Take sewer/knitter/chihuahua owner Laura Mae (Sorry, LM, you're in my sights again.). Her sewing seems to exist in both the practical and "fantasy" realms, as it seems she regularly goes to work dressed like Shirley Jones in April Love, Bay Area weather permitting.

Is this practical sewing or "fantasy" sewing? Only she can say.

How about this stunning 2011 Clio classic? Practical or fantasy? (Clio, are you out there?)

Friends, I ask you: how much of your sewing is practical and how much not-so-practical?

How do you define practical: Necessary for work? Necessary for a special event? Something you'll get a lot of wear from, even if, to most people, it looks like one of Lady Gaga's wilder get-ups?

How about those popular (according to the New York Times) duct tape outfits, and don't tell me you haven't heard about them. They're the latest thing -- probably to be followed by white paste evening gowns and Post-it note peignoirs. Wait -- I think we may already be there.

If most of the sewing you do is of the practical variety, is this how you want it to be, or would you like to sew more in the fantasy realm but don't feel you should, or aren't sure how you'd explain it to DH or the kids?

How about those of you who sew costumes on a regular basis, for the theater, say -- do you secretly dream you could just settle down in front of the sewing machine and whip up a pair of practical panties -- or eight?

Practical or "fantasy" sewer -- which describes YOU these days?

The Ditching Begins (again) + Which Sewing Machine Goes?

2012-01-03T13:40:00.005-05:00

Greetings, born-again declutterers!

We are starting the new year right here at MPB, digging through the detritus and dumping, dumping, DUMPING. As you know, my energy for these kinds of purges isn't always there, so when it is, the best bet is to ride if for all it's worth.

I've made good progress so far and it's only Tuesday. Remember when I set up my stereo system (after seven years without it) only I lacked audio speakers? Well, a few weeks later I found these mini Advent speakers in the trash. They're not great but were good enough for the Burt Bacharach/Hal David Lost Horizon soundtrack I listened to endlessly.

But I learned something, readers, and I think this is an excellent exercise in ditching. I had originally intended on selling (or donating) my stereo receiver and turntable, then decided against it. So I set it up and listened to my records again; I bought a few new used ones at the Salvation Army. And guess what: after about a week, I had totally stopped using it.

I have learned that for better or for worse, I am not going back to my records. So now I can get rid of my stereo components without fear of regret. Because, friends, isn't that the fear around decluttering -- that we'll ditch something and later wish we hadn't?

Meanwhile, for the last five years or so, we've had our computer printer in the bedroom, atop this broken cart. Today, I moved the small Ikea table that used to sit in the corner of the living room (and supported the stereo components) into the bedroom, where it now serves as a printer stand/night table. The cart with the broken wheel has been ditched. Good riddance to broken furniture!

Now that the dogs are no longer sleeping in bed with us, we've moved the carpeted dog stairs into the living room, so the dogs can climb up onto the air blower (which blows hot(ish) air in winter cool(ish) air in summer) in front of the big window. I wanted to sell those stairs (a flea market find), but Michael thinks we should hold onto them. Alas, some compromises must be made.

I've already posted a few furniture items on Craigslist and am now facing the dilemma of which sewing machine(s) to sell. I'm deciding between two machines in tables: the Kenmore 158.141, and the Pfaff 30. They are both wonderful machines -- the Pfaff a powerhouse vintage straight stitcher, and the Kenmore a 1.3 amp zigzagger. I've thought about listing them both on Craigslist and letting go of whichever one sells first -- or both!

They are very different machines. The Pfaff is beautifully engineered and has a knee pedal, which I love, but the Kenmore is also great, and in its way, more versatile. Both could be considered workhorses. I'd keep them if space weren't an issue, but neither does anything that other machines I own can't do -- a concept shared by an MPB commenter a long time ago that makes a lot of sense. The Pfaff doesn't do anything my Singer 15-91 and 201 can't do, and the Kenmore 158.141 is essentially a larger and more powerful 158.1040.

Which would you part with?

In other news, friends, I am planning a very fun adventure for those who care to join me later this month -- it's a secret for now but it involves fabric shopping in....New Jersey! More to come so stay tuned! (I'll also shortly be telling you about my near-psychedelic trips on herbal sleep aid Valerian.)

In closing, have you started your 2012 ditching yet? What's your rule about keeping broken things -- or don't you have broken things where you live? (Be honest!)

Have a great day, everybody!

New Rules & Resolutions for 2012

2012-01-02T13:38:00.012-05:00

Happy 2012, everybody, and welcome to my first entry of the new year!

I am not a fan of making New Year's resolutions, readers, because, with rapidly accumulating life experience behind me, I now recognize that most of us (all of us?) fail at making ourselves do things we don't like to do. The trick to changing behavior is truly to want to do it (and not just want to want), and if you already want to do it, you shouldn't have any difficulty doing so.

If that makes sense and you agree, raise your hand.

That said, I have decided to make some new rules for 2012. Some of these are only tangentially related to sewing, but I'm putting them out there anyway. This way, they're official, and if you see (or hear about) me breaking them, I fully expect you to call me on it.

1. No dogs in bed

This is a rule that has been too long in the making -- or not making. When we had one dog (Freddy), I could handle sharing my bed with a dog, since a) he's a deep sleeper, and b) he usually sleeps somewhere down between Michael's legs. But Willy, pictured up top, tends to sleep on my side of the bed and is a restless sleeper. He likes to be under the covers, that is until he decides he needs to be outside the covers, at which point he exits the bedding and loudly flaps his entire head to shake himself into semi-consciousness. It looks like this.

This is the "wind up."

This is the flap.

It sounds like a helicopter because his ears are as big as his head. Think Dumbo.

Well, I've finally put my foot down. Last night I moved their crates into the bedroom, and sent the dogs into them at bedtime. Freddy made only one attempt to climb into bed. Willy made roughly eight, till I finally locked his crate till morning. Fortunately there was no whimpering.

I will no longer share my bed with dogs. I need my beauty sleep!

2. No more sewing machines

I may need your help here and I hope I can depend on your support; I'm aware that fully half my readership share my sewing machine addiction to various degrees. I honestly don't have room in my head to deal with another sewing machine -- it's more about mental space than physical. In fact, I may be asking your help soon to decide which machines need to go. I have ten and I'd like to slim down to eight. Actually, it's the tables that are driving me crazy. They're not beautiful (Featherweight excluded) and you can't just stick one on a shelf.

3. No more dolls

Do I really have to explain this? I mean, I now share my life with a life-size plastic three year old. If I were to wake up one morning and find her gone, would I feel sorry or relieved? I have to meditate on that. Oh, yeah, I should also add, "no more wigs" or maybe just "no fake hair" regardless of what it's rooted in.

And now a few resolutions...

4. I will return to ditching -- if not daily, then weekly.

I got lax over the last few months, I know it. More stuff started coming in then going out, which is the ultimate violation of the daily ditch discipline.

5. Less coffee, less sugar

I don't eat a lot of refined foods but, like many people, I have a real emotional attachment to these two. I'm not going cold turkey or anything, but I can definitely cut back to a few times a week rather than every day. It relates mainly to sleep rather than weight (though I'm not immune to the love handle), but either way, less would be a good thing.

6. I will stay off eBay

Obviously, this relates to some of my earlier rules and resolutions. I can't help it if I happen to stumble upon some diamond in the rough on the street -- I have to walk, don't I? -- but I can certainly stop visiting this addictive auction site. It's one thing if I'm purchasing something I need, but most of time, it's things I can very well do without, even if it happens to have "Singer" in the title. I should probably add thrift stores and flea markets, but one thing at a time.

OK, readers, I think that's it so far -- I don't want to make promises I can't keep. Of course, if you're aware of some I might not have thought of, just tell me: I can take it.

In closing, do you share your bed with dogs -- the canine kind? If so, does it disrupt your sleep? Other than eliminating caffeine and chihuahuas, what other secrets do you have to getting a good night's sleep?

Have a great day, everybody -- followed by a deep slumber!

Behold the Refinished Featherweight Table!

2011-12-31T12:16:00.011-05:00

Friends, I simply couldn't wait till 2012 to show you my refinished Singer Featherweight table, which I fished out of the trash only one week ago. Ready?

Ta da! (Click on pics for bigger view)

Before:

After:

Here's what I used -- which cost less than $20 total:

1) Small (8 oz) can of Minwax Polycrylic (clear satin finish). I used less than half the can on this project.

2) Minwax wood filler. I didn't have to use the wood filler, but there were a few deep gouges I wanted to fill. Perfectly smooth edges are more important to me than the visible mark, which the unstained wood filler does leave, since I'll be sliding fabric over the table edges.

3) Three grades of sandpaper: 100, 150, and 220. The lower the number, the grittier the paper. The 100 and 150 were for sanding off the old finish. The 220 was to sand between coats of Polycrylic.

4) I applied the Polycrylic with a small foam brush that cost only about 79 cents and did a superb job. Between coats (I needed to wait two hours before reapplying Polycrylic) I rinsed the brush with soap and water -- it cleans up very easily. I applied four coats total, sanding (and wiping clean the dust) between coats.

Even though I didn't stain the wood, it darkened to a lovely light honey color. As I mentioned earlier, I decided not to paint the wood edges black; I prefer them natural.

I'm excited about using this table in the new year -- and every time I look at beat up wood furniture I now think to myself, Could I refinish that? It's addictive. Obviously this Featherweight table is about as easy a refinishing job as you could choose, especially since the original finish was already badly broken down.

The table fully stripped.

I think this table needs a permanent place in the living room, so something else will have to go, and please don't say Patti Playpal. Maybe those dogs...

Readers, that's all the news on this last day of 2011.

Happy New Year, everybody!

Peter's Best and Worst of 2011!

2011-12-30T14:13:00.019-05:00

Friends, I'm not a big fan of year-end wrap-ups. I mean, are our memories so short that we need to be reminded of what just happened? I had something else to say about this, but I forgot it...

Let's talk about sewing!

I don't know how it happened, but at year's end I find myself facing this again. Readers, this is my SEWING TABLE, and if you're wondering how I get any sewing done there, you're not the only one.

Speaking of sewing tables, I applied my first coat of Polycrylic to my Featherweight table today. It's looking good. I'll be applying at least two more; it doesn't take very long and it isn't messy. I wasn't able to get started on this yesterday as the weather was too cold.

OK, so best and worst. This has been such a full year that it's hard to choose, but I'll give it a try.

Worst Garment of 2011

Readers, this shirt/dentist uniform made from McCall's 3087, a shirt pattern from 1954, was a dud.

There's really nothing wrong with the construction of it and the fit is probably what was intended for the period, but the gray flannel-y fabric is boring and I never wear it. Maybe I'll dig it out of the closet and throw it on later today for old time's sake. A brooch might help.

First Runner Up

This is, thankfully, an early version of a garment that ended up fine -- the BurdaStyle Sew-Along dress I labored over for most of September. NOTE: If you're adding a contrast underlay, keep it close to your outer fabric or you'll look like a pinwheel.

Best Garments of 2011

Not very exciting, but I think the best garment I sewed for myself in 2011 are these white jeans. Not only are they nicely finished, but I also wear them all the time -- probably more than you're supposed to wear white jeans if you want them to stay white.

First Runner Up

Even less interesting than jeans are pajamas, but I love my shorty pj's, made from three different seersuckers: gray, lavender, and pale brown. They, too, get a lot of use, which for things I sew for myself, matters.

Little Known Fact: Your pajamas will last longer if you take them off right before going to bed. You'll also sleep better.

Second Runner Up

I probably won't wear these leopard pants as much as my white jeans, but they were an end-of-year surprise: a bit of a joke that turned out well. Maybe there's a New Year's Day invitation in today's mail and I can wear them to a glamorous party. If not, then just around the house.

Best Cathy Outfit 2011

This is the most challenging category, readers, since many of us have strong opinions about my cousin's wardrobe.   I must say I am partial to Cathy's 1944 outfit, though I think her days as a dirty (bordering on filthy) blonde are numbered.

First Runner Up

Much more popular among the people who care about such things was Cathy's strapless Fifties cocktail dress. Vintage enthusiasts seemed to love this outfit. Given Cathy's Esther Williams shoulders, however, I prefer a more covered-up look.

Did you know? Cathy secretly hopes to play Baroness Schraeder in the television remake of The Sound of Music starring Susan Boyle.

Best Garment Made for Somebody Else in 2011

If truth be told, other than Michael and Cathy, who has her own category, I don't think I sewed for anyone else -- at least, I tried not to. I've asked Michael, who's right here with me now, and he chose the vintage cotton short-sleeve shirt I recently made him from McCall's 3995. I agree.

Best Purchase of 2011

Hands down, my first Singer Featherweight, which I purchased last March. I'd resisted Featherweights because they seemed too cult-y, but I guess I've joined the cult. I've since purchased a second -- it's good to have a back-up!

Little Known Fact (and no joke): According to my friend Rain, who knows about such things, those prized white Featherweights, while rarer than black ones, are mechanically inferior. Singer started cutting corners during their years of production.

First Runner Up

I own many -- and I mean many -- sewing books. I love this one.

Worst Purchase of 2011

This is tough. This box of used wigs (my second boxful) wasn't all that, though I haven't given up on them yet. I don't buy much, and when I do buy things, they're rarely expensive enough for me to cry over (much). Does that sound like a cop-out?

Did you know? Used wigs make great feather dusters provided you dust them first.

Best Daily Ditch of 2011

Now this is a category with real competition. You can see most -- though not all -- of the items I said good-bye to this year here.   I think my favorite, in terms of space taken up and time wasted trying to clean, is this vintage American Tourister luggage. Old luggage is usually smelly, but some is smellier than others. This was putrid.

First Runner Up

The less said about this Eighties-era nightmare serger, the better. Good riddance.

***

And that, my friends, is that! I may or may not pop in tomorrow with a Featherweight table update, but if not, I want to wish all of you a very happy and healthy 2012.

Your enthusiastic support day after day has helped to make this past year a very special one for me. My very best to you and yours.

I think Mae West says it best...

Peter Strips!

2011-12-29T08:24:00.005-05:00

Readers, I hope you're not disappointed but I will not be disrobing today. I will, however, be finishing my featherweight table, otherwise known as Miracle on 24th St.

Yesterday, with the encouragement and guidance of so many readers, I stripped off the old varnish with the aid of various grades of sandpaper -- no chemical strippers needed. I sanded and sanded and sanded and finally got that old finish off. And not just the finish: chunky paint splatters, pieces of mid century masking tape, and one rusty thumbtack. I don't know what this table was used for, but it was a lot more than sewing!

I even discovered the old Singer stamp:

Today the table is (almost) ready to be painted with multiple coats of Minwax water-based Polycrylic. I opted for the satin finish as I'm not a big fan of glossy furniture. I've decided to leave the table unstained (sides included), which looks more modern and less like something you'd use on poker night. I'm excited about finishing this!

Before:

After:

Big difference, no?

I realized as I was doing this that my Pfaff table could also use work (though I've been thinking about scrapping that machine -- space, you know) as well as my treadle table, but one thing at a time, right?

Since many of you were no doubt expecting some real stripping, here's Pepper Powell, aka, The Hot and Spicy Redhead. Cute outfit, Pepper!

Happy Thursday, everybody -- two more days till 2012!

Ready, Set, Strip! (...fifteen years of ballet for THIS?)

Featherweight Table Makeover -- and so much more!

2011-12-28T12:40:00.012-05:00

Isn't this an amazing transformation, readers? Wow!

Unfortunately, this Featherweight table is not the one Santa left for me in the street last weekend, but rather belongs to MPB reader Wayne of Florida, who restored it himself. This pic shows the table before he applied polyurethane, but it looks fantastic to me as is (the blue tape is simply to keep the black enamel paint applied to the sides off the top).

You can see that Wayne's table was originally in similar condition to mine (pictured below) -- maybe worse.

I have received detailed advice on refinishing my table from a number of readers (Thanks, Sammi!), and the information has been very helpful. It sounds like the old varnish will come off easily with just sandpaper (starting with a coarser grain and working down to finer ones), so I won't have to use a chemical stripper, which I was dreading. I hope to get started on this today, but you know me: anything can happen.

Friends, this is the downside to all those amazing finds I tell you about: they usually need some TLC, which just becomes another chore. I mean, if I hadn't found this table on Saturday, I certainly wouldn't be sanding veneers today. And poor Patti Playpal still needs her thigh repaired -- sigh.

In other news....

I won this Twenties pattern on eBay this morning and if you happen to be the other bidder, my apologies.

The seller listed the dress pattern as being from 1921 but there is no way it's from the early Twenties. Here are some fashions from 1921. Among the differences are higher waistlines, lower hems, and no cloche hats.

In contrast, here are some McCall's fashions from 1928, in very much the same Art Deco-inspired vein as the pattern I purchased (particularly the gray and white ensemble on the far right with multi-paneled skirt and scarf).

Do you agree with me?

Meanwhile, my used burgundy and black Allen Edmonds saddle shoes arrived yesterday and they're groovy and comfy and certainly worth the price.

Also an eBay win, I purchased them before I made my cherry leopard pants, but was thinking they might work well together. Today, however, I'm not so sure. It's a little much, don't you think?

Friends, that's about it. We have a mystery houseplant Michael fished out of the trash months ago -- we do that kind of thing a lot here -- that has begun to bloom. Can anybody identify this houseplant, which might be in the aloe family? (Its leaves are similar to those of a snake plant, but fleshier.)

What is it about the week between Christmas and New Years that leaves me feeling a little disoriented? I think the best thing to do is to head to the hardware store ASAP in search of sandpaper, don't you?

In closing, are you the refinishing type, or are you more inclined to cover over blemishes with Contact Paper? Frankly, I always thought I was more the latter, but people change, I guess. I may even polish my Featherweight.

Have a great day, everybody!

A Sewing Machine as a Gift -- Yea or Nay?

2011-12-27T11:05:00.016-05:00

Readers, I was both excited and troubled by a feature I saw in the most recent (January 2012) issue of Consumer Reports magazine. Their annual "25 Great Gifts" list included -- are you sitting down? -- a sewing machine!

Actually three sewing machines (presumably you'd choose only one): The Brother Innov-is 40, Pfaff Select 3.0, and the Bernina Activa 230PE.

Now, I am unqualified to comment on the quality of these machines, having never seen any of them in person, let alone sewed on one. I'm thrilled that a sewing machine made the cut as I think it reflects on a renewed interest in home sewing. But the idea of purchasing a sewing machine as a gift (i.e., for somebody else) worries me.

And don't you love how Consumer Reports lists the BMW sports car (below right), which costs $49,525 as "for someone super special" as opposed to "from someone very rich," as if the cost of a gift reflects how much we value the recipient -- precisely what Madison Avenue tries to guilt us into thinking every year. In this rotten economy it seems particularly tone-deaf.

I have seen so many threads on the Pattern Review message boards where someone (usually the husband of a sewer) is requesting advice on what sewing machine or serger to purchase for his wife. And almost invariably the responses come in four-to-one that if they really want their wife to have the machine of her dreams, they should purchase a gift certificate from a reputable sewing machine dealer and let her choose the machine herself.

I am of the same opinion though I'm generally opposed to the idea of purchasing new things (other than socks, knit briefs and undershirts), given that most the Western world, and certainly the United States, is awash in perfectly good second-hand stuff. And while the Bernina Activa is probably a wonderful machine, spending $1350 for a sewing machine seems like a crime whose victim is the customer. I'm open to having my mind changed, of course, but come on, that's a lot of money. Personally, I'd rather have the cash. (In fact, I recently read on some blog that the way to tell if something is worth (to you) what you're spending on it, is to ask yourself if you had the choice between receiving the money or the item, which would you choose? Think about it. Would you rather have someone give you $1000 or get, say, a flat-screen TV?)

Friends, I open the floor to you (not literally; I'd hate to have you drop into a pool of hungry crocodiles).

1) Do you think you can ever buy a sewing machine -- wait, let me restate that: do you think you should ever buy someone else a sewing machine? Unless, of course, you know exactly what model they want and it can be returned (if need be), and they can find support nearby for the machine should they need it?

2) Have you ever received a sewing machine as a gift? If so, were you happy with the choice made on your behalf or would you have preferred another? (Be honest!)

3) Do you agree that buying a sewing machine for someone else is not equivalent to purchasing them a DVD player or a set of knives (then again, for the serious cook, perhaps knives aren't such a good idea either)?

A sewing machine as a gift (for Christmas or any other time) -- Yea or Nay?

Miracle on 24th Street!

2011-12-25T11:29:00.022-05:00

Friends, do you believe in Christmas miracles? You don't? Well, read on -- you soon may!

Yesterday, Christmas Eve, we rented a car to drive down to southern New Jersey to visit Michael's parents. On our way to the garage, not two blocks from where we live on West 24th St., what do my eagle eyes spot atop a huge pile of trash on the curb, but a square folding table? And not just any folding table, readers -- this table had a rectangular hole in the top, a very suspicious hole in the top. Can you guess what it was?

I knew immediately! As soon as we picked up the car, we zipped right back to the garbage pile, and I kid you not: en route, we passed a NYC Sanitation truck approaching this very corner; we'd arrived not a moment too soon! I jumped out and threw the table in the trunk. We then continued on our way.

The pile of garbage where I found the table looked a lot like this one.

This morning we're back from our trip -- Merry Christmas everybody! -- and that folding table is in the apartment. As you can see, Michael was delighted at the prospect of bringing this treasure into our home!

Behold!

While the table's surface could use refinishing, the table itself is sound and very stable. Surely by now you have guessed what this Christmas miracle trash find is.

A vintage Singer Featherweight table!

I think Santa meant to drop it down the chimney but got tuckered out and left it a block away. How else can you explain it? I mean, who throws out a Featherweight table on Christmas Eve?

This table is missing the insert that fills the hole when the machine's not in it, but to me this is unimportant since it's not like I'd use the table for anything other than sewing.

Wait. I know what you're thinking. I'm thinking it too:

Am I really going to use this sewing table (my fourth)?

Where am I going to store the table when I'm not using it?

Where am I going to put the table when I AM using it?

Details, details! Please -- it's Christmas, and this is a true Miracle on ~~34th~~ 24th Street. Did you ever question why Maureen O'Hara would give up a fabulous Central Park West apartment with a million-dollar view to move to suburban Long Island?! She just added two hours to her daily commute.

Some things shouldn't be scrutinized too closely.

"Susan, from now on we'll visit Santa at the Roosevelt Field Shopping Mall."

Anyway, folks, that's all the miracles from my corner of the world so far. The universe certainly works in mysterious ways is all I can say.

Meanwhile, we and the dogs had a lovely Christmas Eve, complete with canine presents.

Best wishes for a Happy Holiday, from our family to yours!

Now do you believe in Christmas miracles?

Is Fashion In a Rut?

2011-12-23T07:38:00.014-05:00

Readers, do you think fashion is in a rut? I ask, having just read a very thought-provoking article by Kurt Anderson in the January 2012 issue of Vanity Fair, entitled "You Say You Want a Devolution."

It's a longish article, but the basic thrust of Anderson's argument is that the evolution of (Western) style -- fashion, architecture, interior design, even music -- has been slowing, so much so that very little change has taken place in the last twenty years. Examples: jeans, tee shirts, and sneakers reigned in the early 90's (and arguably before) and they're still king; Madonna then, Lady Gaga channeling Madonna now.

One point he makes is that if you were to compare the styles of the 1930's with those of the 1950's (a twenty year span), you'd see radical change.

Same goes with comparing the 50's to the 70's, or the 70's to the 90's.

Since the 90's however, according to Anderson, change has been less dramatic. He cites a number of reasons for this: change-related fatigue, economic slowdown in Western economies, and nostalgia, among others.

His point about fashion rings true. If you saw these early 90's teens (the original 90210 cast) at the mall today, would they look terribly out of place (as strange as, say, a 50's teen would have looked 70's)? I don't think so.

Does Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, a film now more than twenty years old, look as dated to us today as early-60's teen Patty Duke would have in the late 80s?

I agree that clothing styles are evolving more slowly and I attribute a lot of it to economics -- it costs big bucks to radically alter silhouettes every few years -- and to a general weakening of authority in all areas of life. I believe most Americans, at least, are unwilling to have styles dictated to them the way they were, say, in the 1950's, a time when Authority was more widely respected. Once people felt freer to make their own choices (from a wider variety of options), dressing primarily for comfort for example, most women were unwilling to go back to girdles and stockings or, in the case of men, ties and hats.

The Mad Men look is cute but I'll keep my jeans.

There were also huge social changes in the first three-quarters of the Twentieth Century resulting from female emancipation, the Great Depression, two world wars, rapid suburbanization, the Pill, anti-war and civil rights protests, feminism, Watergate -- and fashion reflected this. Once the pace of change started to slow down, along with Reagan-era nostalgia for the halcyon days of Leave it to Beaver, so did change in fashion.

More recently, the emergence of global fashion corporations like LVMH means that the bottom line is THE top priority: a companies' first loyalty is to its stockholders. Quality suffers but quarterly (quarterly being the term that matters most) profits go up. So instead of coming out with radically new styles, we get "luxury" handbag fads and wacky shoes that require a lower level of investment and produce higher profit margins.

Finally -- and this is a point Anderson makes in his article -- the Internet allows us to draw from the past much more easily than before. We now have a library of past styles we can access 24/7. For example, we vintage sewers can choose the decade we like best and recreate it, even using the original patterns (easily found on Etsy and eBay), original styling (just Google "New Look" or "20's flapper") and makeup (there are thousands of vintage makeup tutorials on YouTube).

What do you think, readers? Do you agree that styles are changing more slowly? How much of your wardrobe could you have worn twenty years ago without raising an eyebrow?

(Alternatively, how much of your wardrobe is more than twenty years old and still looks perfectly in style?)

Is this so-called style rut a problem -- or a blessing?

Jump in!

Joy to the World, the Pants are Done!

2011-12-22T15:20:00.011-05:00

Friends, I certainly hope viewing this pic isn't putting anyone's job in jeopardy. But I just finished my cherry leopard stretch denim pants and I am ready to rap, or whatever one does, shirtless, in leopard pants. Actually, I'm listening to my lovely Concert, Theater & Parlor Songs of John Philip Sousa CD. Weird, right?

I love these pants: they're funky, yet cut like ordinary straight-leg jeans. Here's the more conservative look, relatively speaking. Hope this doesn't give you a pattern-induced headache.

Here's the rear, for those who wonder about such things. I'm not sure leopard is doing me any favors back there, frankly.

These pants turned out much better than I'd expected, though I did have a few challenges. I put a hook and eye in the waistband, which went in without a problem.

But I also added a 1" waistband extension on which I'd hoped to put a buttohole, only my vintage Singer buttonholer doesn't want to do it -- I guess the fabric, which has heavy waistband interfacing inside, is just too thick.

I'll either stitch on the flimsier type of hook and eye or make a buttonhole by hand, which I've never done before but would be open to trying. Either way, the whole area is under a belt and therefore not visible, plus the original tailor-type hook and eye securely closes the pants.

Since the fabric stretches width-wise, I serged twill tape onto the top of the pockets before turning them under.

Normally the top of the pocket would be turned under twice, but the fabric is too thick and stretchy for that. Finished this way, I could turn them under only once. I then topstiched along the top, and the twill tape cut down on the horizontal stretching.

The back pockets went on without a problem. I used my Singer 201 for all the topstitching (using heavy topstitching thread from Sil Thread) and my Featherweight for most other seams.

I used commercial waistbanding inside the waistband as interfacing, since I really wanted the waistband to be sturdy and I had some lying around. It worked well, though it may be the reason I can't make a buttonhole through the waistband extension.

BTW, all my flat-felled seams are faux. Spongy, stretchy fabric and true flat-felled seams do not mix. I just serged my seam allowances and topstitched from the outside twice. You'd never know that difference.

Even though they're basically jeans, I hemmed by hand because I didn't want the width-wise stretch to create ripples or waves in the hem -- do you know what I mean? Before I hemmed, I stitched twill tape to the hem edge.

And that's it! I am happy to be done and excited about working these pants into my wardrobe, though my burgundy and black saddle shoes won't be here till next week, sadly.

In closing, indulgent readers, are you ready to take the leopard plunge? Predator preppy is so going to happen in 2012, I just know it.

Have a great day, everybody!

Leopard Pants Progress!

2011-12-21T11:05:00.008-05:00

Readers, the pants are coming along. For you jumpsuit fans -- what can I say? Maybe next time. I really don't wear jumpsuits, to be honest. I don't jump much.

A few strange things about this fabric -- other than the wacky print -- worth mentioning. The stretch is on the warp (i.e., parallel to the selvage) rather than the weft, so I cut the pants legs perpendicular to the selvage, rather than parallel. Otherwise the pants would have stretched in length but not in width, which would have been funky, don't you think? The only visible grain is the weft as well.

So far, it seems to be working; we'll see what the result is like.

I made the pockets out of a vintage striped cotton I picked up at the flea market recently (along with the print fabric that became Michael's short-sleeve shirt).

Now, I must say that cut, this cherry leopard print looks much less overwhelming, and I'm starting to really like it, even if it was probably intended for a thirteen-year-old girl.

Plus -- how's this for spooky coincidences? -- it just happens to go with my recently purchased (used on eBay) Allen Edmonds shoes!

I call the look Predator Preppy! (Or does that sound too much like Anthony Perkins in Psycho?)

And speaking of preppy, would you spend $75 on this book?

I saw Hollywood and the Ivy Look in the window of a neighborhood bookstore and was intrigued, but I think I will be limiting myself to the book's blog. I'm over expensive coffee table books. I don't even have a coffee table.

Friends, it is time for me to make my back pockets. With luck, I will be able to finish these today.

Honestly, do you think these pants are more predator preppy....

...or Cheetah Girls?

Happy sewing, everybody!

MPB Second Annual "Leopard for the Holidays!"

2011-12-20T11:06:00.005-05:00

Friends, do you remember the leopard print pants I made at precisely this time last year? Oh, if I had a dollar for every time some stranger emailed me asking if I would make them a pair of these pants, I'd have enough to buy a large coffee from Starbucks with muffin!

Well, I was fabric shopping/wandering aimlessly in the Garment District yesterday, and at my new favorite craptastic fabric store, Nahir (renown for its grumpy owner, lousy service, and unpredictable prices), I found this stretch denim leopard print -- in a vivid cherry overdye -- for just $2.99/yd (from a 60" bolt)!

Now you might be wondering why, with all the wonderful fabric stores at my disposal, I should frequent a place like Nahir. Friends, I can't explain it; I like a challenge, I guess. What's the fun of going to a place like B&J and finding exactly what you're looking for? You'd never be looking for cherry stretch denim leopard print in the first place, so you'd never find it. Do you know what I mean?

Wait -- could this be cheetah?

For me, fabric this loud and (let's face it) tacky has strong associations, none of which I will share with you. But if you told me it was a remnant from the Material Girl line at Macy's or something that fell off the Forever 21 delivery truck, I wouldn't be at all surprised.

That said, it's fun, and the price was right. So today I'm deciding what to do with it. I'm leaning toward jeans, but I don't know...maybe it calls for something wilder, like a hooded jumpsuit!

In any case, as you can see, this is the week of the mindless sewing project. Nothing of substance till 2012 -- though you never know when inspiration will strike.

Speaking of inspiration, I bit the bullet and bought this Simplicity dance hall girl pattern. It has some cool elements I think will be useful down the line, even if I never do an homage to Angela Lansbury in The Harvey Girls.
.

Friends, that's all for today. If you have strong feelings pro or con about a man in leopard print stretch jeans, please let me know. I think, paired with a simple white dress shirt, it could work. Or no shirt at all.

Happy Tuesday, everybody!

Whither the Chorus Girl? + ASSIGNMENT

2011-12-18T15:41:00.028-05:00

Friends, to say that the chorus girl was a popular stock character in old Hollywood movies (by which I mean the pre-Sixties studio days) is to state the obvious. But have you ever wondered whatever happened to her? Look around: she's nowhere to be found.

Showgirls, chorus girls, burlesque queens -- how many thousands of them danced across the screen in the golden days of Hollywood? They all had one thing in common: curves. The chorus girl represented sex, pure and simple, in the days when graphic sexuality wasn't just a mouse click away.

While there were chorus girls even back in the silent era, it really took sound to put the movie chorus girl front and center. With sound came the movie musical, and musicals started out as little more than an excuse to display beautiful, leggy young women in skimpy costumes. Later, when "book" musicals became popular (whose songs were integral to the plot) movies that took place in a show business milieu grew scarcer, and we didn't really need quite so many chorus girls. There weren't any in Gigi but there were plenty in backstagers like Forty-Second Street or Ziegfeld Girl.

Nearly every actress with the exception of Marjorie Main ended up cast as a showgirl at one time or other, even actresses better known for dramatic roles, like Barbara Stanwyck (in Ball of Fire) or Joan Crawford (in Dancing Lady or Flamingo Road).

The showgirl story usually told the tale of a poor girl getting plucked from obscurity (Rita Hayworth in Cover Girl), or rubbing up against social class distinctions (Ginger Rogers in Vivacious Lady), or both. Naturally, there were plenty of musical numbers thrown in just to keep it real.

Showgirls and chorus girls were beloved, not only because they were glamorous and sexy, but also because, like most movie audiences, they were working class -- invariably from Brooklyn or the Barbary Coast or Tenth Avenue or some other location associated with "low-down" living. Showgirls were "good" and showgirls were "bad" but there's no question they were everywhere, especially during World War II, when leggy stars like Grable and Hayworth were at their peak of popularity.

Movies that revolved around chorus girls allowed Hollywood costume designers like William Travilla, Jean Louis, Orry Kelly, Irene Sharaff, Adrian and so many others, to indulge their wildest showbiz fantasies in sequins, feathers, fur, lace -- the works -- though sometimes there was dangerously little of these on display!

After the major studios broke up in the Nineteen-Fifties, there was television, and well into the Eighties designers like Bob Mackie were still creating spectacular showgirl creations for musical variety shows starring Mitzi Gaynor, Cher, or Ann-Margret -- the last of the true "showgirl" types.

Today we still have shows (on Broadway, in Vegas) and occasionally there's still a chorus of "girls," but the chorus girl as pop culture icon is as dated a type as the screwball heiress, the shopgirl Cinderella, and the teenage soprano.

Sadly, for the home sewer, there never were any commerical chorus girl or showgirl-type patterns, even back in the Nineteen-Forties. A few costume patterns can be found for the occasional community theater production of Annie Get Your Gun or Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, but that's about it. It's a little sad, really.

What or who killed the chorus girl? So many things, readers! Before she died as a film icon, the chorus girl had faded away in real life. The popularity of television meant that more people were staying home rather than seeking out the nightclubs, stage shows, and burlesque venues that gave work to so many showgirls. (This echoes what happened to theater when motion pictures became popular decades earlier, and it's not a coincidence that so many movie musicals took place in the Gay Nineties or early decades of the Twentieth Century when most forms of entertainment were live.)

A slow loosening of censorship after WWII and more openness about sexuality in American culture meant that men could get their share of scantily clad ladies on the pages of Playboy or in porno theaters -- they didn't have to sit through The Dolly Sisters, waiting for Betty Grable to show a little leg. Today, when images of graphic sexuality are a keyboard click away, a low-cut bodice or tightly fitted dance costume may be alluring, but it's not the stuff of most contemporary straight male fantasies. A "burlesque" performer like Dita Von Teese is a sentimental throwback to an earlier era, but it's more homage than a true resurrection, even if it's meant to elicit a frisson. Judging by what I read on the vintage sewing blogs, performers like Dita Von Teese are more of interest to straight women of an intellectual bent than to men.

Dita Von Teese

Finally, the Pill meant that there were flesh-and-blood women to engage with, rather than just a celluloid or print fantasy.

Meanwhile, in the movies, films like the much-hyped Christina Aguilera vehicle Burlesque or the infamous cult classic Showgirls have ended up feeling dated, exploitative, or just plain embarrassing.

We're about as far from the risque charms of Gold Diggers of 1933 as we could be. Joan Blondell never gave a lap dance and Marilyn Monroe never licked a pole.

Finally, the demise of the showgirl reflects a culture in which it is no longer officially acceptable to objectify women. Most women don't want to be considered objects and would probably judge the role of the showgirl as she was depicted in movies of the past to be demeaning. We don't "glorify the American girl" anymore, even if we still have beauty pageants and the leggy-but-wholesome Rockettes.

Lindsay Lohan may be in this month's Playboy, in an homage to Marilyn, but the whole thing feels forced and joyless.

I had the privilege of watching a most fascinating film about chorus girls last night, Ladies of the Chorus from 1948. Cheaply made and just one hour long, it's nevertheless fascinating, hilarious, and highly entertaining, not the least because it's Marilyn Monroe's first starring role and we get to see her before she'd developed her dumb blonde persona. Here she seems like a normal young woman, or as normal as a woman can be playing a character who's the "Queen of Burlesque."

The entire film can be viewed on YouTube, and if you have an hour to spare today, please do take a look, if only to hear such hilarious showgirl pearls as "Why you gray-haired old hag, shut your mouth or I'll slap it shut!" and "I'm quittin' -- this turkey can fold for all I care!"

Your assignment, friends, is to watch Ladies of the Chorus (it's in roughly seven parts) and report back. Anything seem strange about this film, which occasionally has the feel of a high school health film and the production values to match?

What do you think of Marilyn, or "old hag" Adele Jergens, the woman who plays her mother (Jergens was just nine years older than Marilyn)?

In closing, do you have a favorite film featuring or focused on chorus girls? Do you find the chorus girl/showgirl of yore entertaining, demeaning, or a little of both!

Ever sewn a chorus girl outfit -- or wanted to?

Jump in!

Broken Sewing Promises or "Don't Remind Me"

2011-12-17T11:43:00.006-05:00

Friends, particularly at this time of year, when nobody wants to be judged naughty instead of nice, one wants to keep one's promises. But sometimes, no matter how well-intentioned, one's plans hit a snag.

If I told you it was highly unlikely I was going to complete a men's suit jacket before the end of the year -- or even start one -- would you be terribly disappointed? It's not that I don't want to make a suit jacket -- I do -- I just don't feel motivated to start right now. Can that be OK?

Sometimes I get very excited about ideas for projects and share these with you, getting your hopes up, no doubt, and then they don't pan out. I get sidetracked, or the idea, which seemed so right at the time, loses its appeal. I hope you'll indulge me if I list a few here. I do this not for you so much as for me -- a sort of end-of-year inventory of projects sidelined -- perhaps forever, perhaps not.

I know earlier this year I'd talked about making a dress like the one Ginger Rogers wore in the "Pick Yourself Up" number in Swing Time, always a favorite of mine. I even bought a pattern I thought might be suitable.

It didn't happen. If truth be told, the pattern didn't seem quite right, and I wasn't sure I knew how to adapt it or cared to try. Maybe some day.

I so wanted to make a Liza-inspired, Halston-esque jump suit and I still may. I bought this wonderful sparkly fabric which I think would be perfect. I just never got around to it.

Remember this Fifties Vogue pattern that was going to be "Cathy's Comeback Dress"? Well, Cathy did come back (from prison, it's a long story) but not in this pattern. I even made a muslin of the bodice. If I learned anything, it's that dirndl skirts use a lot of fabric and aren't flattering on everybody.

Moving right along, remember when I said I was going to remake my ironing board cover, using a vintage wool blanket? Well, I am using the blanket on the ironing board, but I've never actually made the cover -- I just threw the blanket on the board and stretched the commercial cover over it, with the blanket ends hanging out over the edges. It looks dreadful, especially behind lovely Patti Playpal. Maybe that's something I can get accomplished before the end of the year.

Friends, there have been other near-promises made and not kept (mermaid gowns anybody?) but I do think it's important to go where one's energy is and be able to change one's mind. Making a worsted wool men's suit jacket without the necessary energy and enthusiasm is a recipe for disaster, don't you think?

In closing, do you generally do the things you set out to do? If you don't, are you able to shift gears without feeling too bad about it?

What are your sewing plans for the last two weeks of 2011? Are you giving yourself a break -- it is the holidays, after all -- or hunkering down even more? Is there any big project you wanted to accomplish in 2011 that's been pushed back (or is it forward?) to 2012 -- or beyond?

Finally, if I told you I never did ditch my Mickey Mouse phone....

To forgive is divine!

Giveaway Winner + Last BIG purchase of 2011, promise!

2011-12-15T11:39:00.011-05:00

Good morning, Ann Margret fans and others! Huh? Keep reading.

First, I'd like to announce the winner of the Mae West paper doll giveaway. Please put your hands together for...DAMO!

Damo, please email me your contact information (peterlappinnyc at gmail dot com) and I'll get Mae over to you ASAP. Congratulations!

Moving right along, friends, there's something about the holidays that makes us want to buy stuff. Actually, everything about the the holidays makes us want to buy stuff, and that's just the way Madison Avenue likes it. I pride myself on being highly resistant to most impulse purchases (Who just snorted -- did that come from Australia?), but the other day I happened to pop into the Housing Works Thrift Store on 17th Street -- never a good idea at holiday time -- and I was overtaken with the spirit of giving. To myself.

Readers, I don't consider myself a true doll collector. OK, I own a dozen Ken dolls, but I consider them decor, like ashtrays or commemorative Elvis plates. I don't obsess over them or try to collect all their outfits and I hardly ever play with them. But when I saw this very unusual doll, I simply couldn't resist.

Meet Patti Playpal! (Yes, she came with her original tag).

One thing you need to know right off the bat about Patti, is that she is big. BIG.

Some might say grotesquely large.

Patti is so big, in fact, that you were instructed to sew real 3 year old-size clothes for her. Friends, if I ever talk about doing that, please organize an intervention. But honestly, isn't this vintage McCall's outfit cute?

I know some of you will find Patti -- and her outsized presence in my living room -- the stuff of nightmares, but I hope you'll come around eventually. Michael did, or he will any day now. He's still a little freaked out.

Now, if I told you Patti was only $15, surely you would understand why I couldn't resist her charms. To be clear, Patti has a little crack on her upper thigh, but hey, she's nearly 50 years old! I trust some of you doll aficionados will instruct me how to mend it (something having to do with acrylic nail powder, perhaps?).

And here's the Ann Margret bit. Don't you think she resembles Ann Margret...just a little?

In closing, I hope I haven't set a bad example for those of you desperate for any excuse to indulge your most outrageous holiday shopping whims. If you keep it under $20, I think it's OK. I can't translate that into Euros, but we're basically talking the cost of lunch for two at McDonalds.

Readers, do any of you remember Patti Playpal? Did any of you actually own one, or envy a childhood friend who did? Would you display her 1) on the floor, 2) atop a credenza 3) in the back of a closet -- waaaay back.

You can watch the original Patti Playpal TV commercial here.

Have a great day, everybody!

(More Patti pics here.)

Mae West Style + GIVEAWAY!

2011-12-13T11:18:00.028-05:00

She wasn't thin, she wasn't young (not at the height of her fame anyway), and she wasn't particularly beautiful, yet there's no denying that Mae West was a true sex symbol in her day.

What do you make of Brooklyn-born Mae West -- actress, playwright, singer, comedian, sexual trailblazer?

Many excellent biographies of Mae West have been written in the last decade and she wrote her own autobiography in the late Fifties, Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It. Outspoken about female sexuality (and sexuality in general), she was a feminist before feminism had a name. And yet, especially toward the end of her life, she seemed trapped in the campy caricature she herself had created -- the raunchy, ever-sexually-available woman.

Apart from her movies, the best of which were made in the Thirties for Paramount, she's best known for her endless witticisms, among them, “Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere," “I used to be Snow White, but I drifted,""It's not the men in your life, it's the life in your men," and “When I'm good, I'm very good, but when I'm bad, I'm better. ”

Mae started performing around 1900 and was still performing in the Nineteen-Seventies! To see Mae West in her last film, Sextette, however, wig piled atop wig, is to watch someone who seems to have lost perspective on how they come across. In her mind, she never changed -- which in one way (her taste) was true, but in another (her allure) was terribly false. I guess you can argue that it's heroic that she never dropped the mask in public; I'm not so sure.

I love Mae West, and in her early films she seems more like a real person than the lip-smacking, hip-rolling stereotype she became. Before the so-called Hays Code in 1934 forced her to censor her more explicit material (which she wrote herself) she was one-of-a-kind bawdy. She was still one-of-a-kind after 1934, but tamed, she was much less fun. She eventually stopped working in films to perform on stage in successes like Catherine Was Great (she played Catherine). She also had a touring stage show with loincloth-clad musclemen and was an occasional guest star on TV (Mr. Ed), usually playing herself. Her return to films in Myra Breckinridge in 1970 was a big comeback for her, and she was back in the limelight till the end, recording albums of rock music (The Doors!), giving interviews, and promoting new projects.

Mae nearly always appeared in spangly Gay Nineties-inspired gowns or variations thereof -- many designed by Paramount costume designer Edith Head -- that showed off her hourglass figure. Ostrich plumes, sequins, and huge hats were all part of the look that she stuck with throughout her career. She wasn't a tall woman, and she wore shoes like these for extra height, hidden under her gown. Can you imagine?

I have a wonderful Mae West giveaway today for all you Mae West fans out there, the Mae West Paper Doll book by Tom Tierney. It's full of beautiful color illustrations (and detailed information) of many of her most famous costumes from stage and screen, as well as biographical information about Mae herself.

If you'd like to be considered for the Mae West giveaway, just leave a comment below before Wednesday at midnight, EST. I'll announce the winner on Thursday, December 15, and will try to ship it out to you in time for Christmas. (If you want to comment but don't want to be entered in the giveaway, just let me know.)

What are your thoughts about Mae West? Do you find her inspirational and empowering, or embarrassing? Role model or relic?

Do tell!

Here's Mae still going (semi) strong, somewhere in her mid Eighties, speak-singing Captain and Tennille as only she could.

Who You Callin' Ugly?

2011-12-12T13:43:00.015-05:00

Friends, it is but a tired cliché that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, yet isn't it the truth? I open with this photo of Barbra Streisand because when she burst onto the scene in the early Sixties many people considered her to be ugly, and yet today her style is considered iconic.

And speaking of Barbra, if you'd like to dress up like the pregnant bride in Funny Girl, I have just the pattern for you, Butterick 5564!

This is all my very roundabout way of getting to today's topic, which is ugly patterns. I want to be clear from the outset, however, that patterns I consider ugly may be your idea of hello, gorgeous, and that's OK. I'm not here to change minds.

I think there's so much focus at MPB on beautiful things -- beautiful clothes, beautiful wigs, beautiful bloggers -- that we sometimes need a palate cleanser, something to help us recalibrate our evaluation skills.

In the past, I've focused solely on patterns from the ugly decades (the Seventies & Eighties), but this feels much too easy. Need proof? Try this:

Or this:

Or THIS! (I wonder if Bill Hackey ever sewed it up.)

Many people think there were no ugly pattens before the Seventies. I am determined to change your minds.

Even I believed that the Forties were utterly ugly-pattern free. Yet how would you like to be the six year old wearing Joan Crawford's old shoulder pads?

And honestly, who but June Allyson could have pulled off this yoked blouse, complete with Peter Pan collar and ruffles. It's so sweet it makes my teeth ache.

And this patterned jumper -- busy, busy, busy!

But it was in the Fifties that we got our first glimpse of fashions gone haywire, as the Postwar frills got even frillier: bell sleeves, bows, crinolines -- it's all simply too much.

The alternative Fifties silhouette was the sheath. But this late-Fifties version looks too much like a bottle of Palmolive dishwashing liquid.

Loud prints were the rage in the mid-Sixties, but surely this unfortunately placed strawberry is an error in judgment on a pattern marked Quickie.

Moving right along, the teddy nightgown was a terrible idea, but it's worse paired with long pajama pants, don't you think?

When considering ugly patterns, let's not overlook accessories patterns. Those Renaissance Italy-inspired chin-strapped hats make me think only of wisdom teeth extractions.

Costume patterns seem like easy targets, but honestly, this is beyond the pale.

And now for the big finish: The best of the worst:

Ugly.

Uglier... (Kwik Sew 1926 if you're wondering)

Ugliest!

Yes, friends, make the echt-Eighties over-sized, boxy jacket even bigger -- add fringe!

In closing, readers, I do hope your palettes are now sufficiently cleansed. Truly, are there uglier than these? (If you can find any, let me know.) Tell the truth: some of you like a lot of these patterns, don't you? I'll bet some of you own a few of them, too.

If anyone has fringe fantasy Kwik Sew 2031 in their stash, speak up! We don't want to embarrass you; we want to help you.

Happy Monday, beautiful people!

Suit Pants Day 6 - Done! + Laura Mae Obsession

2011-12-11T11:31:00.018-05:00

Friends, first the good news: the pants are done. I hemmed them yesterday, pressed them a bit, got 80% of the dog hair off, and actually wore them out of the house.

But you know when people say that something is more than the sum of its parts? Well, for me, these pants are less. I'm proud of the details -- the faux watch pocket flap (that still needs a button), the back welt pocket, the waistband -- but the pants themselves are a bit meh.

For one thing, they're a little too full in the leg for my taste. I could probably still narrow these some if I wanted to, but is it worth it at this point? (I'd have to let down the hems, for one thing.) Maybe I'm just not used to the look of men's dress pants -- I mean, they do look like the pattern envelope, but please note the body proportions of those men -- they are built like Ken dolls (body length = 10 heads); I'm built more like a Chrissy doll (body length = 5 heads).

I think a slimmer leg would be more flattering for a shorter-than-average guy like me. The question is, how much more flattering? I mean, they're worsted wool dress pants, to be worn with a suit jacket. They're supposed to flow a bit, right? Plus, these don't have a sharp front crease yet; maybe that will make a difference. They could also use another pressing and de-linting.

Anyway, I'm ready to move on. Or not.

I think for my next pair of dress pants, I'm going to skip commercial patterns and draft the whole thing myself, using Jane Rhinehart's OOP, How to Make Men's Clothes or the Cabrera/Meyers Classic Tailoring Techniques: A Construction Guide for Men's Wear, or Knowles' The Practical Guide to Patternmaking for Fashion Designers: Menswear, all of which I already own, and what's the point of owning them if I'm not going to use them?

I've noticed that of the five or so men out there making our own pants and talking about it, nobody's using commercial patterns except me. Maybe they know something I don't.

Not to sound snobby or anything, but the McCall's instructions really don't cut it, not for dress pants. I mean, they instruct you to make the waistband in one piece and add elastic for additional snugness. No joining two waistband halves at the back center seam, no waistband facings, no crotch reinforcement -- nothing. Right now, however, I need to decide whether to leave these finished pants alone or fiddle with them some more. I think I need a pants-free day or two to decide, don't you? Maybe I'll feel differently.

I know it sounds hackneyed, but making these pants has been a valuable learning experience and, hey, in the worst case I lost, what, a week of my life? I could have wasted that watching Battle of the Network Stars. (Wait: I think I lost that week already, sometime back in the mid-Seventies.) Anyway, you get my point. This will only make me a better sewer, if a slightly more frustrated one today.

But enough about me. How are you, and are you reading vintage sewer extraordinaire Laura Mae's blog, Lilacs & Lace, my new obsession? Laura Mae's blog is new enough that I was able to read every single post, which I did last night.

I don't know Laura Mae personally, of course, though she did recently leave a comment on my Snoods -- Yea or Nay post (she was a Yea). I'm going to violate the terms of her blog and post a photo without her permission, only to prove that LM is a dead ringer for the late Jennifer Jones (with whom she shares a strikingly similar wardrobe), a young Shirley Jones, AND an adult Shirley Temple. If Laura Mae's last name is Jones and she goes to temple, I wouldn't be a bit surprised.

Jennifer Jones

Shirley Jones

Laura Mae

Shirley Temple

Laura Mae also knits, dyes, and finishes all her seams with Hug Snug rayon seam binding. And she owns a chihuahua! What's not to love?

Like my cousin Cathy, Laura Mae isn't afraid to wear true tea length and she carries it off with aplomb. WARNING: Laura Mae's posts are often peppered with phrases like For an evening at the symphony earlier this year, I made up this Vogue Couturier pattern... This is not a woman sitting home nights watching re-runs of Jersey Shore.

And now I must get on with my day and perhaps obsess over my pants some more. I wonder what Laura Mae's up to...

Have a great day everybody!

Suit Pants Day 5 - I blame Claudine!

2011-12-09T08:15:00.020-05:00

Readers, I am this close to having my suit pants completed -- in fact, I totally expected to finish them yesterday. I had my new charcoal gray commercial waistbanding from Steinlauf & Stoller (a steal at just $1.80 per yard) and a new can-do attitude.

But fate intervened in the form of an email from master sewer and blogger Claudine of Adventures in Couture. I've been lurking on Claudine's blog for nearly two years now, observing her stunning couture-inspired creations -- not to mention the square footage of her house -- with not a little envy. I had met Claudine once before, on MPB Day last August, so naturally I count her among my closest friends. I even know her last name.

Claudine relaxes at home.

Therefore, when Claudine invited me to join her for a little upscale fabric shopping and a visit to the latest FIT exhibit, The Great Designers, Part One, I dropped everything, threw on a relatively clean shirt, and hightailed it to B&J Fabrics, where we met in the late morning. Highly organized and productive Claudine had already been to see the Christmas windows at Bergdorf's and done a little holiday shopping at Saks (where she picked up a lovely gift for herself -- I'll let Claudine tell you about that -- although, alas, nothing for me). At B&J, Claudine was in search of English woolens, no doubt to make another impeccably tailored jacket like the beautiful original she was wearing yesterday, a tweed boucle that you can read more about here.

I think Claudine was a little taken aback by my New York brashness, but nevertheless complied with my request that she remove her jacket so I could examine the handstitched silk lining; I discovered that Claudine's natural state of sang froid isn't easily disturbed. I'm not sure she'll be wanting to fabric shop with me again, though, as I revealed my tendency to loudly exclaim Eighty-five dollars a yard for THIS!? every three minutes. I'm a bargain basement shopper, friends. Not so Claudine.

We grabbed lunch at Pret A Manger on Broadway, which despite offering considerable seating, was completely full. Pas de problème: imperturbable Claudine suggested we sit outside in the pedestrian mall. Friends, it had to be forty degrees out and it was windy yesterday, albeit sunny. My instinct would have been to stand uncomfortably close to a table of tourists and loudly sigh and roll my eyes, thus making them so uncomfortable that they packed up their sandwich ends and headed out the door -- I'm confrontational. (Just ask demure Debi, who on a big blogger meetup a few months ago, when I was criticized by some impatient loon on the Dean & Deluca line for excessive chatting at the food counter, witnessed me release such a series of expletives in return that she shrank to palm-size.) But that's how we roll here in NYC. Anyway, Claudine and I did eat outside, me with blue lips and chattering teeth, and elegant Claudine sitting hatless, a few stray wisps of hair blowing in the wind, relaxed and happy. Maybe I need to eat more protein.

Next we hit the Fashion Institute of Technology, whose museum exhibits are free to the public and always breathtaking. The Daphne Guinness exhibit is still on display, of course; this new exhibit is in their somewhat smaller street-level gallery space, but it's marvelous. Designers are presented in alphabetical order and all the biggies are represented, from Armani to Zoran. What a privilege to tour this exhibit with someone like Claudine, who can look at, say, a Prada dress, and say (I paraphrase) Ah yes, the 2008 collection -- the one that turned me on to guipure lace, without sounding the least bit pretentious. This woman knows her designer fashion, and after an hour with her, you start to feel like a true fashionista, although most of my comments were still of the Isn't that pretty! variety.

You can read the NY Times review of The Great Designers, Part One here. Even if you can't see this exhibit with a couture maven like Claudine, please go see this wonderful show. It's open now through May 8, 2012.

Meanwhile, back in Pants-landia, newly inspired by Claudine's masterful attention to detail, I started attaching my waistband yesterday evening. Of course nothing went as planned and I had to rip out the same seam twice, but I have much higher hopes for today, readers. I am committed to finishing these today, in fact, even if it means adding an elastic waistband, which is so very un-Claudine-like.

I'm deciding between a double hook-and-eye (or tailor's belt fastener) on the waistband extension, or a hook-and-eye with button, the disadvantage of the latter being that I'd have to make a buttonhole in my all-but-finished pants, with all the concomitant risks. Hey, there's always velcro.

Friends, I hope you're having a fruitful week. Please don't let the Claudines of the world sabotage your productivity, as I did. They wouldn't let us do that to them, you can be sure!

I leave you with an additional wig-shot, as they proved so popular on yesterday's post. (Who knew there were so many Bea Arthur fans out there? ) Who's the actress and in which movie did she sport this shaggy hairdo?

Happy Friday, everybody!

Peter's Thursday WIG-A-PALOOZA!

2011-12-08T09:10:00.010-05:00

Readers, I believe when we've reached the point that we're sewing men's pants flies closed, it's time to take a break. Of course, this means that I'm imposing my break on you. So no pants today.

Instead, I want to talk about something altogether different -- wigs! I've written about wigs before (most extensively here), and it's no secret that I'm a big fan. To me, there's very little difference between a wig and, say, fur. It's a luxurious, hairy accessory.

After jewelry, any woman who isn't a member of PETA would be delighted to receive a fur coat as a gift, don't you think? (Or is this a woefully dated belief based on too many re-runs of I Love Lucy?) And yet buy a woman a wig for a gift and you'll likely be scorned. Buy a woman a used wig....well you can just imagine. To me, on the other hand, there's nothing more fun than a used wig, and no better place to find them than eBay. For some reason, there are many people selling used wigs -- perhaps due to the death of an elderly relative or neighbor -- and not many buyers.

Among my many weaknesses, one is an indisputable tendency to buy multiples of things. I pick up a vintage Ken doll on a lark, and only a few months later I own a small vinyl army of them.

Remember the vintage Samsonite train case I bought last winter? Not one week after receiving it, I bought another -- the same identical case! One I use for makeup and one I use for Ken doll clothes and how often do you think I'm reaching for a tiny suit and end up finding eyelash glue?

This unusual quirk is the same reason why I own three Chrissy dolls, two Singer Featherweights and, oh, I could go on and on.

Anyway, one recent evening I somehow stumbled into the wig category on eBay, and I simply couldn't resist picking up a few lots (yes, lots) at prices so low they were practically paying me to take them. I'm sure each of these wigs has an interesting story to tell which I'd rather not know. Think of them as miniature fur coats. I bought the two groupings below. I love how each wig style has a romantic name -- among my first group is Petite Secret (which is anything but), Brussels (no doubt modeled on the sprouts), and Sensational (uh...not quite).

The first lot is here, and the second should arrive today. Exciting, no?

I thought it would be fun to model each wig alongside the celebrity the wig most immediately calls to mind, and ask you to identify him/her. One wig, however, doesn't make me think of anyone (other than Michael's Aunt Mary) so I'm going to ask you to think of somebody.

Here goes:

Wig #1

Wig #2

Wig #3

Wig #4 -- Friends, this is the mystery wig. Whom does this wig remind you of? Valuable prizes await the lucky winner -- perhaps a fur coat of your very own!

Any ideas, folks? I know I look like somebody famous, but I can't figure out who. A singer on Lawrence Welk perhaps?

Please leave your ideas below, as well as the names of the first three celebrities.

In closing, how do you feel about wigs? Why does the obviously wiggy wig often invite scorn -- unless it's being worn by, say, Tina Turner -- when nobody for a moment believes women actually have blue eyelids or crimson lips?

Wig out with me today!