purple

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.

Buttons, buttons, buttons

I’m currently making a dress out of a Ponte Roma fabric in a lovely shade of purple. It’s a knock off of this Saint Laurent style.

A back view of a woman wearing an orange mini dress. It has three quarter length sleeves with buttoned cuffs, a back zip closure, and padded shoulders.
Saint Laurent mini dress, matchesfashion.com

The original has working cuffs, which require buttons. No problem, I thought. I have the family button box and there must be something in there that will go with the fabric. But no.

Matching the purple was clearly a non-starter.

I initially thought that brown might work. But none of these seem quite right.

Eight flat buttons in varying shades of brown on top of a purple knitted fabric

Maybe yellow or grey?

Four yellowish buttons, three flat one shank, and one flat grey button on purple knitted fabric

Gold is better. I especially like the black one with the gold border for this style of dress…but it’s very blingy and I think I’d feel a bit weird wearing it because I am not a lady who lunches. More like a lady who hastily grabs a sandwich. I also usually go for silver hardware on coats, bags etc rather than gold.

Five buttons on purple knitted fabric. One is gold and flat,

Two silver options here. I quite like both, but the shiny one is a bit too big for the size of the cuff and also too blingy for every day, and the dull one is maybe a bit too dull.

I’m probably over thinking this, especially as the first version of the dress is likely to be wonky anyway – pattern drafting isn’t something I’ve done a lot of.

Tudor cosplay (Vintage Vogue 1476 coat modelled)

In the unlikely event I ever need to dress up as Henry 8th I’m all set. This is my coat made from an 1980s Issey Miyake pattern, worn over a dress made from another 1980s pattern, but the whole effect is strangely Tudor. I think it’s the big shoulders and the colour. The dress has 80s shoulder pads which are contributing.

This is the pattern envelope, vintage Vogue 1476 from 1984. Mine is made up in purple wool mouflon from Croft Mill. It’s lovely fabric: light but very warm and has a slightly fuzzy right side. At the time of writing it’s still available here. It’s got a certain similarity to fleece. I think you could make a cracking version of this coat pattern out of fleece, and as a bonus it could be machine washed. I’d avoid heavy coating fabrics. The pattern envelope says ‘wool knits, lightweight tweed, and double knit’ which isn’t super specific: wool knit can mean lightweight jersey or heavy boiled wool amongst others. I would not want to make this out of either of those. Tweed would work, ponte would work, and I’ve seen a great linen version.

The coat is very oversized. I added 5cm at the hem because I’m tall, but I think I needn’t have. I didn’t bother lengthening the sleeves at all – or rather was far too lazy to trace the enormous pattern pieces to make the necessary adjustment – and they’re fine. Normally I add 5cm to sleeves too.

It’s good for twirling. But mainly I find I have worn this around the house when it’s a bit chilly; it’s great for snuggling up in. I’ve fallen asleep under it more than once.

When I was looking for fabric for this project I didn’t initially consider purple. It’s not one of my usual colours (admittedly, until a few months ago my usual colours were confined to black, white, grey, and silver). I’m glad I ended up with this though. It goes particularly well with the yellow dress here but also works with grey, white, and silver clothes. It’s a bit on the sombre side over an all black outfit unless combined with some brighter accents.

While I’m tempted to make other versions I think realistically I only need one of these. It takes up a lot of space in the wardrobe. I think it could be a good one to make as a present though, as there’s next to no fitting involved. And if you’re making it out of fleece then almost any colour the recipient might want is going to be available.

It has one downside which is that the roomy pockets are difficult to locate in all the folds of fabric, leading to much inelegant rummaging. And I wish I’d added a loop for hanging it. I always regret it when I leave that out of outerwear. But overall it’s a success.

Thanks to my husband for taking the pictures.

An elaborate blanket: constructing Vogue 1476

A dressform wearing a purple draped coat stands in front of bookcases. The coat is vintage Vogue 1476 by Issey Miyake.

Here’s my finished Vogue 1476 coat. It’s an Issey Miyake design from 1984. This one is a real classic – I think it was in the Vogue patterns catalogue for over 20 years. I don’t know exactly when it went out of print but it was before I started buying Vogue patterns so I had to buy my copy second hand.

Vintage Vogue 1476 envelope art

Like a lot of the Issey Miyake patterns Vogue produced the pattern cutting on this one is unconventional. Any unlined coat is topologically equivalent to a sheet with two holes in it to put your arms through. I once made a McCalls waterfall cardigan pattern that was literally a flat rectangle of fabric with two armholes cut out and sleeves attached to them. The Vogue is obviously much more sophisticated than that; there’s some shaping and the sleeves are an impressive batwing shape rather than tubes; but there’s a resemblance.

You start off with a big rectangle of fabric with an irregular chunk cut out. The first seam transforms that into a loop. Here’s the big piece folded in two along the edge at the bottom of the picture: those short horizontal edges towards the top left are the ones that get sewn together to make the loop.

Then you hem the whole thing all the way around the outside, mitring the corners. There’s nine metres of hem so it takes a while. Vogue suggests neatly turning 6mm of the raw inside edge of the hem under and then topstitching it down with two rows from the right side. I wasn’t confident of doing that neatly in bouncy wool coating so I left the inside edge flat and trimmed it close to the topstitching afterwards. The fabric doesn’t fray and I think it looks all right. Whatever hem finish is used needs to look neat because it shows when the coat is worn.

Next the two yoke/sleeve pieces are joined together, and then the long edges of the joined yoke/sleeve piece are sewn along the inner edges of the main loop and topstitched three times. There’s a certain amount of pivoting around the angles in the edges; you can see one of the angles in the picture below.

If you’ve done it right there are two small sections of the main loop edge left unsewn which form holes for your wrists to go through, one at the end of each sleeve, and you attach facings to finish those. Simple!

Of course it’s not so simple in practice: the sheer size of the pattern pieces makes sewing it a challenge. I spent a lot of time stopping and adjusting the huge pile of fabric so it fed smoothly. My machine doesn’t have a ‘stop with needle down’ function and it’s the first time I’ve ever really wanted it.

It’s vital to mark and match the notches and circles on the seams between the main pattern piece and the sleeve/yoke pieces so they end up correctly aligned. I couldn’t go by past experience to put this one together because the pattern pieces are such unusual shapes and they’re so big it’s difficult to see what’s going on anyway. The pattern illustrations are accurate but it’s hard to relate those neat drawings to the huge pile of crumpled fabric in front of you.

There’s a lot of topstitching involved. I had to wind three bobbins. I tried to keep it straight and consistently spaced by using my ditch stitching foot, which has a central blade which follows the line you’re targeting, and adjusting the needle position to one side to get evenly spaced rows. It worked pretty well but I failed to think about the order I stitched the rows in before starting, and more than once ended up having to sew with the bulk of the fabric to the right of the needle because my machine’s needle position will only adjust to left of centre.

I wish I’d done the centre back seam differently. I left the edges raw, topstitched down the seam allowances, but didn’t trim them back. The wrong side of this seam shows when the edge of the coat is folded back in wear, so it looks a bit untidy with that loose edge. I might have to go back with some sharp scissors and trim it. In a lighter fabric I’d flat fell the centre back seam. I’ve seen a great summer version of this pattern done in linen.

This is really more of a cardigan than a coat. It’s wonderfully warm and cosy but doesn’t have any closures. I think I’ll be wearing it around the house a lot though. Hopefully I’ll get some modelled pictures at some point.

Vogue 1482 purple

Purple peril – Vogue 1482 again

Vogue 1482 purple 3/4 view

I liked my pink Vogue 1482 dress so much I made a second version. This one’s made up from a deep purple crepe de chine from Macculloch and Wallis. It’s a fibre blend I’ve not come across before: 20% silk and 80% acetate. Macculloch and Wallis describe it as having a very matt finish but I think that must mean by comparison to other crepe de chines. It’s not as shiny as a satin but it definitely has a bit of a sheen to it. It also creases as soon as you look at it. I ironed the dress before we took these pictures so you’re seeing it at its best here. The good news is that the creases will drop out on their own if the dress is hung up for a few hours so ironing isn’t strictly compulsory.

I had horrible doubts while sewing this as to whether the fabric was really suitable for the outside of a garment or should be kept for lining (the Selfish Seamstress’s epic rant on the subject has stuck with me) but it seems to have come out OK. And the fabric’s very pleasant to wear and wasn’t any more difficult to sew than any very lightweight fabric.

I cut this one out by laying the pattern on the fabric, chalking around the pattern pieces, and then removing the pattern and cutting along the chalk line. I find this method works better for me on very lightweight fabrics than trying to cut out around the pattern while it’s still on the fabric, which just leads to lots of messy jagged edges.

I used a self-fabric covered button for the back closure. There’s something strangely satisfying about making those up, although I suspect it would rapidly get boring if a garment needed lots of them. Just as with the pink version I had to make the self fabric loop for the back closure much skinnier than the pattern directs. I also meant to shorten the split this time, but forgot. Oh well.

Vogue 1482 back view

The long bias seam across the front has not come out brilliantly on this version. It looks fine when laid flat but there’s quite a bit of rippling when I’m wearing the dress as you can see in the picture below. With 20/20 hindsight it might have been better to stabilize the bias edges with some very lightweight interfacing and sew a conventional seam there rather than the French seam the pattern instructions use. And actually the seam doesn’t need to be on the bias; what I really like about this pattern is the overall shape of it and the pocket, and the pocket could just as well go in a horizontal seam. The seam doesn’t incorporate shaping so would be easy to change. I’d be inclined to make it slightly curved rather than dead straight across if I did change it as I think that would look more flattering.

Vogue 1482 showing bias seam

This version has the same pattern adjustments as the pink one: it’s the size medium with two inches length added at the hem and two inches added on the sleeves, split evenly between the cuff and the sleeve piece. This is a size bigger than I normally make in Vogue but my usual length adjustments. The exact choice of size in this style makes very little difference as it fits where it touches and nowhere else. Perfect for hot weather. I’m also hoping I might be able to keep it going a bit with leggings and a long sleeved t-shirt underneath when the summer finally ends because I love the colour.

Vogue 1482 purple back view

I made shorts!

I finally did it. I made shorts. They are not the most perfect shorts the world has ever seen, but I think they’ve actually turned out wearable. I’m really pleased with the results. Thank-you all for your good advice and encouragement! I really can’t imagine sewing without the Internet sewing community.

Burda 111 06/2011

The pattern is 111A-06-2011 from BurdaStyle magazine. It’s also available to purchase as a PDF download. I picked the style because it has a side zip which I figured would be easier than a fly closure for a first attempt at trousers. The design is extremely simple. The only real detail is the cute patch pockets on the back.

Burda 111 06/2011

There are inseam side pockets as well. Putting an invisible zip into a seam with a pocket attached was easier than I expected. The side in this photo is the one without the zip, which surprisingly came out looking worse than the zip side. It looks OK in this picture, but it’s a bit wobbly in real life. I think it could use a bit of understitching and stay tape to stabilize the pocket edge and side seam. My fabric is a stretch cotton twill and the pattern is intended for non-stretch fabric.

Burda 111 06/2011

Using stretch fabric makes it a bit difficult to judge the fit, but I think it’s come out OK. The only thing I want to adjust is to let the side seams out a very small amount. I should have realised I needed to do that in advance, but I didn’t look at the size chart carefully enough.

I hitched my jumper up in most of the photos so the waistband is visible, but in practice I’m far more likely to wear these shorts like this.
Burda 111 06/2011

I wonder if I can get away with these at work. Perhaps without the purple tights.

Anyway this bodes well for trouser-making! I’ve just acquired some really nice black stretch denim for an attempt at some Burda stovepipe trousers. Wish me luck.

Save