dress

Long blue hooded dress

A woman wearing a long clingy navy blue dress with a draped hood stands in front of a pale blue wall. She has short greying hair.

This dress is the second item in a set of projects inspired by recent Saint Laurent designs. This particular project was inspired by the jersey maxi dresses from the RTW Spring 2023 show. There were several variations shown, but the common features were that they were floor length and clingy with a very narrow skirt, high neckline, and often had a drapey hood. Quite a few had open backs or were sleeveless, and most were made in slightly sheer fabric. They remind me of the sort of thing Grace Jones wore in A View To A Kill but even slinkier.

A model wearing a long clingy sleeveless dress in damson colour with a draped hood walks down a catwalk. She also wears big sunglasses, gold earrings, and chunky gold cuff bracelets.
Saint Laurent Ready To Wear Spring 2023 look 8, vogue.com

I don’t lead the life of a Bond villainess so some compromises had to be made. The basic silhouette could be copied, but my dress had to have sleeves and a back, and be in a somewhat sturdier fabrication than the original. I thought a viscose ponte with plenty of elastane would probably provide the right combination of drape, elasticity, and coverage. Mine’s Croft Mill’s luxury ponte in navy. I wanted the sapphire colourway but they didn’t have enough in stock, and now I’m glad I went with the navy as it’s much more subtle.

The pattern I used as a base is an old favourite: the dress fromVogue 8866, a now out of print wardrobe pattern from 2012. I made it floor length and straightened out the side seam so it falls vertically from the hip rather than tapering into the hem. I made my usual additions to the bodice and sleeve length for Vogue, and as always made one size smaller than the size chart recommended.

Vogue 8866 line art
Line art from out of print Vogue 8866, sew-direct.com

The original design has a slit in the top of the centre back seam with a hook and eye fastening at the collar, but I used an invisible zip in the centre back instead. I considered trying to do without a centre back opening at all, but even in a stretchier knit I think I’d struggle to get this over my head without one. I kind of wish I’d made the zip longer so I could step into the dress; it’s not the easiest thing to put on.

The seamlines on the Vogue pattern don’t bear much resemblance to the inspiration dresses. The Vogue has raglan sleeves and a centre front seam whereas the originals have regular set in sleeves and the front is generally cut in one piece. Normally this sort of difference would annoy me, but I think my version benefits from the extra seamlines. It doesn’t have the sheer fabric or skin showing that the originals do so a bit of extra design interest helps.

A closeup of the shoulder of a woman wearing a blue knit dress. The picture shows a raglan shoulder seam and a centre front seam, both with top stitching

The hood is a separate piece: it comes from a vintage 80s Vogue pattern: 1439 by Alke Boker from 1984. Keeping it separate not only has the advantage of simplicity, it theoretically makes the dress more versatile.

A photograph of a paper sewing pattern envelope. The pattern is Vogue 1439. The envelope has a picture of a woman in a black boat neck batwing dress with a gathered skirt, and a sketch of a woman in the same dress in yellow but with the addition of a hood. The designer name on the pattern is Alke Bokers

Will I wear it without the hood? Unlikely. It needs some accessories in this mode.

A woman wearing a clingy blue long sleeved maxi dress stands against a light blue wall. She has short greying hair and wears yellow Adidas trainers.

The original pattern has the hood cut on the bias but that makes it an incredible fabric hog. The hood doesn’t need to stretch in order to fit, so the only reason I can think of for doing it that way is to make a woven fabric drape better. I cut mine on the straight: I’m using a knit and a drapey one at that, and it saved at least half a metre.

I knew this dress needed to have pockets. I don’t carry a bag any more so clothes without pockets don’t get worn. But pockets on a knit dress usually sag and spoil the line. I’m usually prepared to live with that for the sake of having somewhere to put my keys and phone. but for this style the sleek shape is everything. I put invisible zips in the side seams and attached pockets underneath by sewing the pocket pieces to the seam allowances after the zips were in. I was pleasantly surprised by how well it worked. I’ve got my usual stuff in the pockets in all the photos and it doesn’t show unless you’re far too close. Definitely going to do this on future projects too.

A photograph of the side seam of a knitted dress with an inseam pocket closed with an invisible zip.

The runway photos show how narrow the original dresses are. There’s no walking slit. so only tiny ladylike steps are possible. I almost added a side slit to my dress but at the last minute decided it would be too much of a departure from the shape I wanted. I can’t run in this without hitching it up (so elegant) but it’s more wearable than I expected; it works perfectly well for a day working at my desk.

A woman wearing a clingy blue longs sleeved max dress walks away from the viewer towards a fore escape on the side of a pale blue building. The dress has a hood which hides her head. She also wears yellow Adidas trainers.

When worn down the hood doesn’t behave well. It tends to rotate around my neck and end up back to front. I suppose I could come up with some way to attach it to the dress – little snaps or a button and loop – but it doesn’t seem worth the effort to go back and retrofit it now.

A woman wearing a clingy blue long sleeved maxi dress stands side on against a pale blue wall, looking over her shoulder. The dress has a hood worn down. She has short greying hair and wears yellow Adidas trainers.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised that I’ve worn this a few times already. And I think it has some of the vibe of the inspiration dresses. Silicon Valley had better watch out.

Thanks to my husband for the photos.

A woman wearing a clingy blue long sleeved maxi dress stands by a fire escape on the side of a pale blue building. The dress has a hood which she wears over the back of her head leaving some hair visible. She wears yellow Adidas trainers.

Purple minidress

It’s been a while because this dress took an age to make. It’s the first one of a set of garments inspired by recent Saint Laurent collections, in this case the orange minidress from Spring 2022.

A woman walks down a catwalk. She wears an orange minidress with a v neck, 3/4 length sleeves pushed up, very strong shoulders and a brown underlayer at the hem. Her accessories are large sunglasses, platform sandals, a short chunky necklace and large earrings
Saint Laurent Spring 2022 look 44, vogue.com

I’ve been drawn to this particular dress since I first saw it, in an advert in Vogue. It’s currently selling for an eyewatering £1795 at Matches, so the only way I could ever scratch the itch was to make my own version.

Orange does not love me, hence the switch to purple fabric. The fabric also had to be relatively inexpensive because realistically this is a stunt dress. I don’t have the Saint Laurent lifestyle. And yes, I should be only be adding things to my wardrobe that are going to get at least 30 wears, and this one seems rather unlikely to meet that target. I’ll have to count the entertainment value of making it and taking silly photos as something instead.

So my fabric is Croft Mill’s BB viscose ponte roma, rather than the luxurious wool woven the original was made in. I went for a knit for comfort and a bit of help with getting a good fit. This particular ponte turned out to be excellent value. I’ve had far pricier ones that weren’t as nice. Sadly the purple is now sold out but Croft Mill have it in other colours.

Having found the fabric I then needed a pattern. After studying every picture of the original I could find online I started with a Burda pattern for a knit jumpsuit which had the same strong shoulder line, and turned that into the basic dress shape with centre front and back seams and a v neck. That centre front seam isn’t just for decoration but turns out to be essential to getting the dress shaping right; it curves in just below the waist. There’s similar shaping in the centre back seam plus two dart tucks at the back. My original pattern turned out much too baggy and there was a lot of adjusting needed after I’d sewed it together. I’d added side seam pockets which made that more difficult. Pockets do bad things to the line, but any outfit that doesn’t have them generally gets worn only once. I ended up taking in the centre front and centre back seams and fiddling with the tucks. Taking in the centre back seam was sad because I’d done a brilliant invisible zip insertion. I couldn’t face ripping the whole zip out and redoing it so it’s a bodge job: I ripped out the lower half of the zip and shortened the zip to end just below where I’d unpicked it to, and then took in the seam below the new end of the zip.

The sleeve on the Burda pattern was one piece, and the Saint Laurent dress has a two piece sleeve with buttoned cuffs. I found a Threads tutorial for turning a one piece sleeve into a two piece but a lot of trial and error was involved. My first attempt was pretty sad: it didn’t have enough volume and the cuffs were too loose and too short. Luckily I had enough fabric to recut the sleeves after updating the pattern. After much agonising I used tortoisehell effect plastic buttons on the cuffs. I was very torn between those and some rather fine metal shank buttons in a dull shade of silver. But on the day I was doing the cuffs I was convinced the whole thing was going to be a disaster and fancy buttons would be a waste, so it got the plastic ones.

And here it is in all its glory.

The cuffs are still a bit too loose and the finishing and fabric don’t remotely compare to the designer dress, but I think it’s come out as something at least adjacent to it. But will I wear it? I did wear it to the pub straight after we took the photos, with my enormous purple Issey Miyake coat over the top which tones the look down considerably. I’m glad to have tried it out but I doubt this will be a wardrobe staple.

Thanks to my husband for the photos.

Black and blue: vintage Vogue 1101

A woman with short hair stands with her back to the viewer. She wears a royal blue and black dress and a grey bangle.

Let’s start off with a back view for a change. In all honesty there is very little difference between the front and back of this dress as seen in in photos. It’s a beautifully simple design. The pattern is vintage Vogue 1101 by Christian Dior, all the way from 1982. Not the actual Christian Dior: the date puts it in the Marc Bohan era of Dior.

Here’s the pattern envelope. The red and black version is very striking but red and I don’t get on. This was an eBay find and it’s a Canadian version of the pattern: it’s entirely metric.

Photograph of a Vogue pattern envelope. It has a photo of a model wearing a red and black short dress and an illustration of a woman wearing a longer white and grey version of the same style.

Amazingly I found a contemporary runway photograph of the design. The red looks more orangey here. It’s clear the original fabric is slightly shiny and very drapey. The pattern envelope says it’s medium weight tissue faille, which is not a fabric I am familiar with. Also is it just me or is the skirt a lot shorter on the runway photo?

Photograph of a model with dark hair on a runway showing a red and black short dress. She has her hands in her pockets and the image is tilted so her body is on a diagonal.
Anna Bayle modelling the original of Vogue 1101, lofficielph.com

My version is made of much less exotic polyester crepe. Specifically it’s John Kaldor Prestige crepe in royal blue and black. I got it from Sew Essential. Handily they had the raglan shoulder pads too: being an 80s style of course it has padded shoulders. I love the look, but positioning and sewing the wretched things in is one of my least favourite tasks.

A full length view of woman with short hair wearing a blue and black short dress, black tights, and ankle boots. The dress has dolman sleeves and a high neck.

I can’t complain too much though. When I measured the pattern I discovered I didn’t need to make a single adjustment to make it fit me. I normally have to add a lot of length to the body and sleeves, so I always trace the pattern and make adjustments on the tracing. The pattern pieces didn’t even need cutting out on this one because the original owner had done that. Good thing, because actually cutting the fabric was a trial because of the large and awkwardly shaped pieces.

Annoyingly I don’t seem to have a photo that demonstrates the pockets. There are pockets. Boring side seam pockets, but entirely functional. I managed to hack a hole in one while running the edges though the overlocker, so the insides have an ugly repair – as always my finishing isn’t going to win any sewing prizes. I liked this dress enough to hand hem it but again it would probably be best not to look at the underside of the hems. They’re ok from the outside and that will have to do.

A woman with short heair wearing a blure and black dress with do,amn sleeves and a high neck

I like the closure on this: buttons at the shoulder rather than a zip, which might spoil the lines on the back. The belt is a bit odd. It’s a little short for wrapping around twice but far too long just to wrap around once. Twice seems the best option but if I made this again I’d add a little length.

A woman seen from the waist up. She has short hair and wears a black and blue dress with a high neckline. The dress has buttons at the shoulder.

I am not sure I will ever need another one of these – it’s very memorable – but I think it would work well in a lighter weight ponte as well as the crepe.

Thanks to my husband for the photos.

Cutting vintage Vogue 1101

Vintage Vogue 1101 pattern envelope

This is the pattern I’m currently making, vintage Vogue 1101 from 1982. And here are the cutting layouts for wide (150cm/60”) fabric, which is what I’ve got.

Cutting layout from vintage Vogue 1101
Cutting layout from vintage Vogue 1101

My heart sank when I saw them. Single layer and lots of big pieces needing to be cut twice, not to mention the front, back, and belt being provided only as half pieces but not cut on the fold. And the top front and back pieces are asymmetric and cut once. The layout doesn’t even have the virtue of being very efficient on fabric.

In the end I made up my own layout which let me cut the biggest pieces on the fold and I added a seam to the belt so I could cut four shorter pieces rather than two very long ones.

I did the contrast sleeves by folding the fabric right sides together along the cross grain, cutting along the fold, and turning the top piece around so I had two full width layers with right sides together and the nap running the same way. Then the sleeves can be cut on a double layer.

It’s coming on nicely now but I doubt I’ll be making this one again any time soon.

Shapeless but cozy: vintage Vogue 1071 flannel dress

This was the wrong time of year to make a thick flannel dress. It’s going to be a great option later in the year but right now the UK is having its annual two weeks of summer so I put it on just for these photos.

The pattern is vintage Vogue 1071 by Claude Montana, dating from 1982. I have found some pictures of the original from an auction site which show it made up in black wool knit with leather panels, but Vogue’s instructions also recommend wovens, including flannel, and the version on the pattern envelope looks to have suede panels.

Photo of vintage Vogue 1071 pattern envelope

I made mine up in black cotton flannel from Empress Mills. It is a lovely fabric to touch: really thick and fuzzy. In fact it was a little on the heavy side for this pattern. I also bought a length of black polyester suede to do the panels, but when the fabrics arrived I realised the texture of the flannel was so similar to suede that the panels would be effectively invisible, and didn’t bother adding them.

This is a nicely drafted pattern – everything goes together well – but it’s not what I think of as a typical Montana style, probably because it’s an early one. There are no shoulder pads and no shaping. The back is completely plain.

It does have one Montana feature: plenty of pockets. There are a pair of very roomy ones hidden in the side seams, which is where in practice I’ll put my stuff, and also two breast pockets. Those are fancy welt pockets with flaps and were a pain in the neck to construct because they’re so wide and deep their seam allowances encroach on the front placket. But if I ever need to carry more than the side seam pockets can accommodate I have room to do it.

I’ve found the older Vogues run much more true to size than the modern ones: ie I need to make the size the size chart says, instead of one or two down. However they’re also single size patterns, and my copy of this one is two sizes smaller than I am. I checked the finished pattern measurements for bust, waist, and hip, determined that there was so much design ease that I’d fit into the smaller size with room to spare, and made it up without adjustments other than for length. What I didn’t think to check was the cuff circumference, and they’re a little tight. Not unwearably so, but I definitely need to undo them to get my hands though.

Thanks to my husband for the photos.

All the details: Vintage Vogue 1652 innards and wearability

I’ve been banging on about this dress for weeks but this is the last post about it, I promise. It’s an old Vogue pattern from 1985, number 1652 by Claude Montana.

My version is made in black satin-backed crepe. Here’s a quick reminder of what it looks like.

It turned out to be one of the most difficult projects I’ve done in a while. The style looks simple – raglan sleeves, wrap front, hood, a few pleats. But the the pleats and the edge finishes are very fiddly and there are also some clever tucks at the neck that are sewn differently on each side of the dress. The instructions for those are technically correct. The facings on the inside of the dress have the ‘right side’ of the contrast fabric visible. And as it’s ‘contrast fabric’ not ‘lining fabric’, the pattern diagrams use the standard ‘right side of main fabric’ colour for all diagrams of the tucks whether they’re shown from the inside or the outside the dress, rendering the two sides completely indistinguishable. Like I said, it’s technically correct. And of course I sewed the right-hand side tucks inside out the first time because I interpreted the diagram wrong. As soon as I put the dress on it was clear they were wrong though, and it was easy to fix.

And now for some pictures of the details.

The pleats are made over the seams in the hood and sleeves and then held in place by stitching in the ditch. I didn’t think it through and didn’t finish my seam allowances before making the pleats, and afterwards it’s almost impossible to do. Doesn’t matter on the hood, because it is lined, but the sleeves aren’t. This picture also shows the top-stitching on the raglan sleeve seams, which seems to be there purely to hold the neck facing down. At least, it looks exactly like the sort of thing I often do to tame an unruly facing, only I stitch in the ditch to try to hide it rather than making it a feature. I’d always assumed this was a lazy shortcut that could be avoided if I pressed the facings a bit better, but here it is on a serious designer garment so I’m feeling pleasingly vindicated now.

The centre back and side seams are flat felled to give a nice clean interior finish. The hems are tiny, no fun at all to sew in bouncy polyester crepe. I presume this finish matches the one on the original garment, but I’ve reason to think that was made in wool doubleknit so a narrow hem wouldn’t be an easy option there either. Mysterious. If I ever make this again I might increase the hem allowance.

The sleeves are finished with real opening cuffs which is a nice touch. They’re very skinny though, or else I have big hands.

Another couple of unusual features below: the velcro closure on the front and the method of joining the facings to the body. The facings are stitched to the body wrong sides together, then the facing edges are are trimmed back close to the stitch line and the outer layer turned in to make a narrow hem over the top of the facing. This was a very slow, fiddly process involving lots of hand basting. It’s completely impossible to turn the hem in neatly where the edge has a concave curve, and the pattern provides a helpful extra piece to sew on along that section to form the hem instead. It’s just about visible in the picture. They call it a ‘gusset’, which I always thought of as something that goes into an armscye or crotch seam. Yes it’s wonky. This is the best I could do after much unpicking and retrying, and it’s not very visible when worn.

Sarah Webb (@sarahjw70 on Instagram) sensibly suggested attaching the facings the conventional way and then top-stitching instead. I wish I had followed her advice! The finish above makes for a flat and well-behaved edge with an attractive border of the outside fabric on the contrast side, but it took a whole evening and I think the normal way would be quite acceptable, especially if the inside isn’t a dramatically contrasting colour.

Here’s a couple of photos of the inside at the top. There’s a little button there for a thread loop on the top corner of the underneath of the wrap to hook onto, so there’s no danger of the wrap front revealing anything it shouldn’t at the top.

After a day of wear I got annoyed by the lapel of the outer front flapping about when the hood was down, so added a tiny hook and eye on the other side to hold that in place too. That front isn’t shifting anywhere now.

And here’s the inside of those amazing sleeves. Thick shoulder pads, and a bit of wadding tacked to my shamefully unfinished seams to help the sleeves keep their very curved shape.

And that’s it. I did wear it to work one day, and no one noticed! Not sure if that means it’s less out there than I thought or they were all being very polite. Anyway it’s wearable for days when all I’m doing is sitting at a desk. It needs a wide elastic belt to make it sit right with this slippery fabric – I tried with a webbing belt and it slid everywhere. And it’s very warm.

My next project is a very plain Burda sweater with only four pattern pieces that I’ve made before. It’ll be a nice change.

Channeling my inner Grace Jones: vintage Vogue 1652 by Claude Montana

A woman wearing a black hooded dress, sunglasses, and boots poses in a wood. The dress has elaborate sleeves and a wrap front.

This dress is the least practical item in my 80s wardrobe plan but definitely the most 80s. It’s vintage Vogue 1652, a design by Claude Montana from 1985. Here’s the envelope art.

A photograph of a vintage sewing pattern envelope. On the left is a photo of a model wearing a black and brown hooded dress with the hood up, on the right a sketch of a woman wearing the same dress in yellow with the hood down.
Vogue 1652 from 1985 envelope art

I have searched and searched but haven’t found any contemporary images of this style other than the Vogue Patterns envelope photo. My best guess is that it is from the Montana autumn/winter 1984/1985 collection because that one contained several dresses and coats with similar pleating details on the arms, and at least one wrap dress with a hood, but the exact style remains elusive. The Vogue pattern itself was published in 1985 so the date is plausible.

It’s very reminiscent of the hooded dresses Grace Jones wore in A View To A Kill, also from 1985, although of course hers were by Alaïa.

A woman wearing a black hooded dress, sunglasses, and boots poses in a wood. She is looking over her shoulder.

My dress is made in black satin-backed crepe from Croft Mill. At the time of writing it’s still available here. I used the satin side for the contrast facings. I got very lucky with this one because I didn’t order quite enough fabric to cut the facings wrong side up, but Croft Mill sent such a generous cut that it all worked out. I only have scraps left.

A woman wearing a black hooded dress, sunglasses, and boots walks towards the camera. The satin dress lining is visible.

Here’s the back view. This really shows off those 80s shoulders. There are extra thick pads in there, and I added some wadding lower down to help the sleeve keep its shape. It’s not all padding though because they looked huge even before the pads went in. It’s the cut of the sleeve and shoulder that does it.

A woman wearing a black hooded dress stands with her back to the viewer. The dress has pleats on the hood and sleeves, and large shoulder pads.

The hood is surprisingly flattering and stays put very well. But here is the dress with it down. The big lapel doesn’t sit so well in this position.

A woman wearing a black dress, sunglasses, and boots stands looking to one side. The dress has a large satin lapel.

I added my usual 5cm length to the bodice and sleeves, and another 5cm to the skirt length, which it definitely needed to end in the same place as on the model. The hem allowance is 15mm so there’s no possibility of letting it down later if it’s too short.

This was a single size pattern so I also added a bit to the width below the waist. I normally trace a size larger on the hips in a multi size pattern so none of this was a surprise. I wasn’t quite sure if I should make the wrap front wider or not as I was adding to the hips. I did, and it seems to have worked OK. I can’t say it sits in place perfectly because it’s a narrow wrap skirt in a slippery fabric so of course it has its moments, but it’s not unwearable.

I am intending to make a belt to go with this from a Burda pattern, but in these photos I’m wearing a purchased one. It was a lucky find because it has a certain similarity to the one on the pattern envelope photo.

A woman wearing a black dress, a wide belt, and sunglasses adjusts her hair. She is standing in a wood.

So the question is will I actually wear this? It’s a lot of look but it’s also a lot of fun, and unlike many fancy dresses I’ve made it’s comfortable. With a black slip underneath even the slightly fussy skirt isn’t a problem. The one thing it lacks is pockets. I’ve been wearing a pouch clipped onto my belt to deal with that. I’ll have to try it at work and see. I suspect it might also be wearable as a jacket over trousers.

Thanks to my husband for the photos.

Slogging away

I’ve been busy for the last few weeks on this vintage Vogue pattern by Claude Montana, 1652 from 1985. I haven’t been able to find a photo of this one other than the pattern envelope, but it’s gloriously 80s.

The pattern envelope picture doesn’t show the back but those pleats in the sleeves are repeated on the hood.

I had a lot of trouble deciding on fabric for this. Depending on fabric it could vary between very dressy and very casual. I have a persistent mental image of this made up in grey sweatshirting with a brightly coloured lining, but I fear that would look too much like a dressing gown to be wearable out of the house; I don’t want to be thrown out of the supermarket for being improperly dressed. Aiming to avoid that effect I went for the polar opposite with satin backed crepe.

The dress is double layered in the hood and the deep front facings which turn out to form a lapel on the right front, and can be made in a contrast fabric. My plan was to use the satin side of the fabric as the contrast.

Cutting this out was a challenge. The pattern pieces are huge and asymmetric; it has to be cut on a single layer. In addition I hadn’t thought very carefully about my decision to use the wrong side of the fabric for the facings, and bought the amount of fabric required for the version of the dress without contrast facings. When I came to lay out the pattern pieces I realised that I needed extra length to cut the facings wrong side up. The fact that I’d also lengthened the dress by 10cm made it worse. Luckily Croft Mill had sent an exceptionally generous cut of fabric – there was something like an extra half metre – and I just managed it.

Here’s a closeup of those sleeve pleats. The sleeves on this dress are distinctly odd and I haven’t yet decided if it’s intentional design or just slightly annoying to wear. Maybe both? I measured the sleeve and decided they would probably come up long, but lengthened them anyway because self doubt, which is why my trousers have very deep hems.

I’m glad I added the length because even with the extra the sleeves seem to settle with the cuffs higher than I’d expect. Looking at the pattern photo I am still not sure what the intended length is. The model in the photo has her sleeves pushed up to accommodate her long gloves, and the one in the sketch has one arm partly behind her back and the other one so foreshortened by the angle that I can’t tell where the sleeve ends.

Here’s the back of the hood. This pattern is very difficult to get a sense of on a dress form. It needs a head and arms to sit right.

But as yet the facings and closures aren’t attached so this is the best I can do. There’s a lot still to do, including making a narrow hem all the way around the front edges in fabric that doesn’t press nicely. I may be some time on this one.

Hindsight is 20/20: Vogue 1558

If I ever need a quick fancy dress costume I think I’m sorted; I’ll just wear this dress, borrow a toy lightsaber from my son, and say I’m Princess Leia.

This is the original pattern: Vogue 1558. It’s a Rachel Comey design from maybe 2018. Surprisingly it seems to be out of print already. I think I bought it when it was first released, but never got around to making it up because it’s difficult to find the right fabric for. It needs a lightweight but relatively stable knit. Anything too heavyweight would make the pleats at the waist very bulky, but the wide skirt needs a lot of support so too much stretch is to be avoided.

The original Rachel Comey dress is made from silk jersey, which was never going to be an option. I decided on ‘silk touch’ poly lycra from Tissu Fabrics. It’s stretchier than I’d like, but I attempted to compensate by not lengthening the bodice pieces by as much as I normally would. It’s also inexpensive so I bought some extra to make underlayers for opacity: a basic crew necked t shirt and an underskirt. I had a clever idea I wanted to try out with the underskirt: I put side seam pockets into it and left slits in the dress side seam to make them accessible. That way the dress has the benefit of pockets without all the pulling you normally get from pockets in a lightweight knit.

Unfortunately I underestimated the stretch and everything ended up much too long. I needn’t have lengthened the bodice at all. The pocket idea worked, but as I can only just reach the bottom of them they are not exactly practical.

I did manage a good invisible zip insertion, which in this difficult fabric is a minor miracle. Yes the pleats aren’t quite symmetrical.

It’s not just the stretch though. The whole style is wrong for me. This dress is soft and pretty whereas I feel more comfortable in something sharper edged. I thought the strong vertical lines of the pleats and the high neckline would make it work for me, but the midi length and bishop sleeves are what is coming through. I could chop off some length – it’s not currently hemmed – but I’m not sure that would save it and anyway it’s winter here right now. So I think I’m chalking this one up to experience and moving swiftly on.

Burda 110 05/2008

Finally some modelled photos of Burda 110 05/2008, part of my current wardrobe sewing plan. The weather’s turned cooler so while I’d originally intended to wear it on its own, I’ve had to put the pleather leggings from the same plan and a t shirt underneath. And as we went to a park on the other side of town to take the photos there are creases and the pockets are laden down with hand sanitizer and the like. So this is definitely a realistic set of photos!

Here’s the line art. Note the distance between the bottom of the pockets and the hem; this is meant to be a very short dress.

Burda 110 05/2008 line art, burdastyle.ru

And compare with my version, which has come out a lot longer. I think the explanation might be that hem allowance was already included on the pattern pieces and then I added it again. Normally you have to add both seam and hem allowance to Burda magazine patterns, but sometimes when there is a feature at the hem like the drawstring casing here, or a turn up, the hem allowance (but not the seam allowance) is already included. I have checked the instructions and it doesn’t say it’s included, but every other version I’ve seen of this one is a lot shorter than mine. I’m not sure the longer length of mine is the best proportion on me, but it does make it wearable with bare legs.

For once Burda have come up with a pattern with an interesting side and back view. Those cargo pockets can hold a lot of stuff. I was a bit worried I’d made permanent shiny iron marks on the pocket corners while trying to press them but the fabric recovered very well after a steam. It’s Merchant and Mills 8oz sanded twill in Aubin grey. It’s a beautiful fabric: it has a very soft hand but is also sturdy. I’d definitely use it again. Burda’s fabric recommendation for this one is poplin which seems a bit on the lightweight side to me.

The belt loops held on with snaps look good but the back ones do occasionally unsnap themselves when getting out of a car.

I’m pleased with the collar and front zip. It was a lot of effort. Overall I’m not sure the style works for me though; the whole thing seems like it needs to be a bit crisper. Maybe I should have used poplin!

Thanks to my husband for patiently taking the photos as always.