Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water…
It was almost a year ago that I wrote up my first sock design pattern Charybdis and released it into the wild. It’s been great fun seeing what people have done with it over on Ravelry (login required) and how they’ve made it their own. (And, best of all, hearing about the times people have enjoyed knitting it.) It was always my intention that there would be a Scylla, and now, well, there is. Here they are, the finished Scylla socks! You can download the free pattern here on the brand new shiny designs page. (All feedback and spotting of errors is much appreciated.)
Part of a deadly sea monster double act, ancient Greek legend has the gruesome Scylla lying opposite the whirlpool-belching Charybdis across a strait of water that gave sailors no end of trouble. The two sides of the strait were within an arrow’s range of each other- so sailors attempting to avoid Charybdis would pass too close to Scylla, and vice versa.
Accounts of Scylla’s appearance don’t quite match up as to her number of heads, tentacles, etc (perhaps no one stuck around long enough for a proper look?). But they all agree she had scales. And teeth. And lots of them. So these toe-up socks use slipstitch patterns to create teeth and scales a-plenty. Scylla continues my attempt to create patterns that showcase the colours in variegated yarns, rather than simply devouring them and barfing them back up again…
Poor Scylla. Rumour has it she was once a beautiful nymph who incurred the wrath of one of the Gods or perhaps Circe (never a good idea- always a shortcut to hideous transformation). But perhaps she’s nowhere near as fearsome as she looks?
(In Homer’s Odyssey, Circe warns legendary hero Odysseus to choose Scylla over Charybdis’s whirlpools:
“Hug Scylla’s crag—sail on past her—top speed! Better by far to lose six men and keep your ship than lose your entire crew…” Once you’ve mastered Scylla, why not tackle Charybdis?)
(One of the out-takes. These sea monsters just don’t know how to behave in front of the camera…)
Jane and Lorelei wrestled with weighty Existential problems over their lunch break. Was rationality an attempt by the self to impose structure on a world of random phenomena? Did the notion of the Absurd imply there was no meaning to be found in the world beyond the meaning they gave to it? And would summer’s heel height be lower or higher?…
Just a very quick pattern story post today to let you know there’s new patterns up :)
Christian Dior, 1949
You know how it is. You start surfing the internet merrily for something utterly forgettable and mundane. Then before you know it you’re in Google news reading the Spring fashion supplement from the Tri-City Herald from March 1949.
And then you catch sight of one particular headline that brings you up short:
Skirt lengths inch shorter for Spring ‘49.
One inch? Is that all? If I was a thrifty girl about town in 1949 I doubt I’d have even gone to the trouble of getting out needle and thread and taking up my skirt hems. An inch is nothing. Who’s going to notice one little inch?
Jean Dessès, 1949
The fashion police were obviously in town and underemployed. The dictat continued:
Wide skirts…are not so billowing as the New Look made them, and skirt lengths for everyday wear are an inch shorter thus making 13 inches from the floor the Spring-1949 prescribed length.
Can you imagine? That’s 13 inches from the floor. Which is going to make dress shopping very difficult if you’re not whatever was considered an average height back in 1949. And that’s before you’ve even factored your heel height into the equation. (And means you can’t switch those heels for flats on the fly without falling foul of the 13 inch rule.)
The laying down of the fashion law continued:
For cocktail and dinner dresses, lengths go down to 10 inches.
Robert Piguet, 1949
Ha. Doesn’t all this seem ridiculous to us modern readers? We’re so used to being able to pick and choose just about any length we choose that suits that it seems laughable anyone could prescribe an actual figure for skirt lengths. Occasionally I do actually feel immensely thankful that we live in an era in which pretty much anything goes, sartorial-wise. I wonder how many readers did pay close attention to this in 1949 and got that tape measure out. (Or perhaps all this was viewed back then in the same spirit as Jack Sparrow’s Pirate Code- “really more like guidelines, anyway”…)
The Roman Emperors are Not Amused…
Popped along to the Museum of the History of Science in Oxford this weekend to check out their new exhibit- the world’s first exhibition of Steampunk art. If you haven’t come across Steampunk before, basically imagine the digital technology of today crossed with the aesthetic of late Victorian science.
Steampunk is a relatively new discovery for me, but apparently it’s been around for a while. According to Wikipedia:
Steampunk is a sub-genre of science fiction that came into prominence in the 1980s and early 1990s. The term denotes works set in an era or world where steam power is still widely used—usually the 19th century, and often Victorian era England—but with prominent elements of either science fiction or fantasy…
The sheer imaginative and technical cunning of the artworks at the exhibition sent me (metaphorically) reeling. The initial visual impact of each piece drew exclamation, and then after intense peering more exclamation, as wondrous small details became apparent. Like this amazing piece by Thomas Willeford and Amanda Scrivener below. Is that a door knocker set into the shoulder?
And I thought this might strike a chord with you chaps. These are the Whole Nine Yards googles by the artist Dr. Grymm. (I could actually use a pair of those…)
Aswell as Steampunk art, Steampunk fashion is rapidly becoming a Big Thing. And on Saturday the museum was filled with “live manequins” showcasing Steampunk outfits. I have to say I was very much taken with Steampunk style, partly because the late Victorian silhouette has always appealed to me. Add to this all manner of contraptions, goggles, cogs, and quirkiness and the resulting look is very much mad inventor meets global circumnavigator.
For men, design elements included military detailing, pith helmets, tweed, leather, as modeled by these two distinguished and may I say extremely dapper gentlemen. (Apologies for the poor quality images- my camera and I couldn’t really cope with the museum lighting…)
For women, the look seemed to veer in one of two directions- towards the feminine bustle and corset. Or towards a more tailored style with waistcoat, breeches, boots and jaunty hat (my personal preference). Like these two stylish ladies who very kindly agreed I could take their picture…
…and then promptly set about a fellow tourist :)
I love the fact that Steampunk style is very much a highly individual means of self-expression. By which what I mean is: that the best Steampunk outfits (it seems to me) thrive on originality and eccentricity. The most breathtakingly successful Steampunk costumes I’ve seen are due in large part to the personality and ingenuity of their creator and wearer. (I’ve seen elements of Steampunk style trickle down into the High Street (thanks also in part to the recent Sherlock Holmes film, I suspect). And I wonder if this is ever so slightly annoying if you’re an Steampunk officianado- to watch your style anaesthetised and watered down and become mainstream?)
The exhibition runs to the 21 February 2010 and admission is free. If you can’t make it to Oxford, check out the video for the exhibition, which highlights some of the artworks on display, the artists, and features more amazing Steampunk costuming:
Wednesday was market day in Bormes-les-Mimosas. But it wasn’t just the shopping that prompted people to make that long walk up to the Provencal mountain-top village. It was the opportunity to catch up, to flirt a little, and to see and be seen. Angelique’s new dress was going to make its debut (and she’d been up into the small hours hemming it). There was only one thing marring her excitement as she set off uphill with her basket. Her new shoes were absolutely killing her. How on earth to arrive fresh and unblistered?
Aha! Well, it wasn’t exactly arriving in style but it would just have to do. She’d just wait for Monsieur Auboisson and his donkey and bread cart to catch her up…
A dress full of esprit de corps and joie de vivre and even je ne sais quoi if ever there was one!
(I don’t know whether it’s the straw basket and carefree pose on this pattern illustration, or the subliminal effect of that much swimming pool blue background, but looking at it for a while almost made me weep for summer….)
Happy pattern Friday! You know where to look :)
In an attempt to reclaim my sewing mojo, I blew the dust off the sewing machine last weekend. My problem with sewing is that I lack the disciplined mindset and mental stamina for it. So, in an attempt to psyche myself up and get my head in the game, I sought the wisdom of sewing legend Mary Brooks Picken, below, in my Singer Sewing Book from 1954.
Make an appointment with yourself to sew….
So says Mary. So I did. I deliberately made a date with my machine. I put aside a whole afternoon (what extravagance!) in which I would do nothing else but sew. My gosh, but I’d forgotten how much prep work sewing involves- sorting out the pattern pieces, cutting the fabric, pinning, machining pressing, tweaking… For me it also involves trekking between two rooms- the sitting room for cutting and laying out, and the kitchen table for machining. So, sewing is not something I can successfully do a few minutes of while, say, waiting for dinner to cook. (Knitting, on the other hand, is great for that kind of thing!)
Prepare yourself mentally for sewing. Think about what you are going to do…
Usually I just jump straight in. I’m impatient; I cut corners. And then I wonder why I’ve cut out two identical left sleeves and no right. This time I tried to think ahead. And no major stuff-ups occurred.
Never approach sewing with a sigh or lackadaisically. Approach the job with enthusiasm. You must want to make something lovely….
I did feel enthusiastic; I felt motivated. I set out to make muslins of a couple of vintage patterns in my stash. (The muslins don’t look at all exciting, so no pics, I’m afraid.) I remembered at the end of the afternoon why sewing can be so frustrating. When you work on muslins you can put in hours of work and not feel that you’ve achieved very much (even though you have!). Especially when your muslins don’t fit. One 1940s blouse in a 36″ bust- too small! One 1950s blouse in a 38″ blouse- too big! This was an interesting reminder of how sizing/ease in vintage patterns has changed over the decades, but frustrating.
Mary had some other helpful advice, which I thought I’d probably do best to ignore:
Never try to sew with a sink full of dishes or beds unmade. When there are urgent housekeeping chores, do these first so that your mind is free to enjoy your sewing.
Hmmm. Chores can wait. My mind managed to cope with that surprisingly easily…
When you sew, make yourself as attractive as possible. Have your hair in order, powder and lipstick put on with care..If you are constantly fearful that your husband will come home and you will not look neatly put together you will not enjoy your sewing as you should….
I had to chuckle at this. I never sew wearing makeup. It’s just too easy to transfer marks onto fabric while handling it. And as for pulling garments over your head while wearing lipstick! Ha. I think we all know that that’s a recipe for disaster. (Also, if Robin came home and I was sewing demurely in a dress in full makeup rather than mad-haired as a badger in one of his old jumpers he’d probably think there was something seriously wrong.
Result: Mojo slightly restored. We’ll see….
Myrtle stood at the side of the running track with the other wives and girlfriends, trim in her light grey spring coat and coral hat and scarf. Ah, there was the starter’s pistol- they were off. But poor Charlie! Nature had not made him one of life’s natural sprinters. He lacked a certain…. well, swiftness of foot. She’d better go and commiserate- she could cash her betting slip in later. There was no need to tell Charlie that she’d just made a tidy sum by betting on his rival, Tommy “Speedster” Tucker….
Isn’t this just the perfect example of how glamorous the 1930s were? Ah, a decade when an overcoat wasn’t just something you threw on to keep you warm, but an event in itself. This design even thoughtfully includes a pattern for the finishing touch- a jaunty little neck scarf. And did you notice the sleeve detail? If you peer closely at the black and white line drawings you can just see that the sleeve fullness is cunningly pleated into the shoulder yoke. I think if I was making this I’d consider making a shorter version- I wonder if a version that ends at low hip would work? Not that I will be making it, though, as it’s up for sale now in the Etsy store as part of this week’s update. Hurrah!
Click on the pic for the listing…
“Have you seen this woman? If so, do not approach, she may be dangerous….”
I’ve admired Selvedge magazine for a while now. Its almost-edible design and thoughtful articles on all kinds of textile topics from fashion to fine art have put it firmly on my must-read list. So I was incredibly excited to get an email from Selvedge a few months back telling me, ahem, - blushes, stammers and twists hands together - that they’d chosen me as the winner of their Wordperfect writing competition! Piling yet more excitement upon excitement they then asked if I’d also like to be featured on their Contributor’s page. Would I send them a mugshot (or “informal portrait”) and 50 words on my favourite Christmas tradition?
Gosh! So, the result is that you can read my competition entry on the work of artist Richard Saja and his dastardly manipulation of toile in the current issue of Selvedge, number 31. And you can also snigger at the mugshot you see above, which in retrospect I wish was slightly more, well, glamorous…
Which by a deft adjectival flick of the wrist brings me on to another nice surprise, no less welcome:
Karen over at the delectable blog Bobbins and Bombshells has awarded me a Glamorous Blog Award (which I hope she doesn’t retract having seen my mugshot). Thanks so much, Karen! The award is much appreciated. (The rules dictate I have to pass on the award to 10 other blogs. But that needs a little thought, so I’m going to hold off listing for now….)
“Why, hello Julia, how are….”
“Sssshhhh! Can’t you see I’m undercover and going incognito?”
“Oh. You mean the veil?”
“Yes, in this incredibly cunning disguise I’ll be the most glamourous vigilante the city of Gotham has ever seen. My mission is to fight injustice and crime wherever I find it. To protect the innocent and persecute the guilty. So if you could pretend you don’t know me…”
“Right you are- I’ll just be moving along then.”
“Yes, I think that’s best, don’t you?”…
Among my favourite favourite vintage patterns are these kind of glamorous dress designs issued by Vogue in the late 1940s. I think it’s that sophisticated touch of film noir style that appeals, as well as the way they employ all kinds of interesting draping, gathering and seam details to strategic effect. But this one I’ve just listed in my Etsy store (please note that the envelope is not in the best condition, but the pattern pieces look as if they’ve never been used). A few others are up too, including this other 1940s number….
Apparently all the hip kids were doing it- wearing their curling papers out and about. Lucy had even matched hers to her new frock. It may have been the very latest hair craze, but Ruthie just didn’t get it. However, she couldn’t help noticing that flower delivery vans seemed to turn up at Lucy’s house on a regular basis, and that Lucy was always swanning about clutching bouquets from admirers. Ruthie wondered if perhaps it was time to jump on the bandwagon…
Happy pattern Friday :)
This disembodied hand is not, in case you were wondering, Thing from the Adams family in his best winter togs.
It was my best attempt at modeling AND photographing Mum’s Christmas present simultaneously.
I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed knitting these gloves- I wasn’t bored for a moment. Even knitting the second glove. (Yes, I did actually knit two of them.) The pattern, full of Bavarian-style twisted cables, is by Julia Mueller, and was so well written that these weren’t half as hard as they look to knit. (This is Entangled Stitches, but Julia has some other gorgeously intricate glove patterns over on her site at Laris Designs…)
The yarn? A fingering weight Merino/bamboo/silk by Hedgehog Fibres – staggeringly cushy and springy but with great sheeny stitch definition. And the colourway is Opalite. Utterly aptly named- watching the shades melding as I knit those cables was almost strangely hypnotic…
Robin also received knitted gloves for Christmas (which certainly came in handy for examining freakish ice crystal structures over New Year…) But his are a much more prosaic and, er, manly pair of mitts…
This blog is where I ramble on about fashion history, costume, sewing, knitting and anything else that takes my fancy.
