Swing out sister
“Lindy Hops the Atlantic!” screamed the headlines the day Charles Lindbergh made the first solo flight from Paris to New York.
But all that was 10 years ago now, and Tess would have been too young to remember, anyway. It never occurred to her to wonder, every evening she spent perfecting her airsteps and jitterbugging madly in the dance halls and dives of the Big Apple, why was her favourite swing dance called the Lindy Hop?
Every now and then I see a pattern illustration and crave the fictional fabric used for one of the outfits. Like the leafy blue fabric covered with what I take to be vaguely Jacobean inspired quinces used to illustrate this 1930s culotte dress.
Culotte dress! Ha. I think I’ve digressed before about the attitude of deep denial in the early 1930s and the inability then to call trousers by any other name than a coy “divided skirt”. Now we’ve got to the late 1930s (1937 in fact) the word “culottes” seems to have become just about acceptable. Let’s magnanimously overlook the fact that the pattern envelope cheerfully states this is a culotte dress. (One step at a time. I guess perhaps the word jumpsuit hadn’t been invented yet.)
Can’t you just imagine the conversation between the two girls on the pattern envelope:
“Like my new dress, Susan?”
“Dress? But isn’t it…”
“Nope. It’s a dress..”
“But surely we both know….”
“It’s a dress. Definitely a dress. I’ve never worn anything more dress-like in my life…”
(and so on ad infinitum…..)
Anyways, this pattern and a couple of others are up in the store.
You know what to do :)