Showing posts with label Ceil Chapman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ceil Chapman. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Finding an Original

It’s the small things . . . today I happened upon this photo as I was perusing Pinterest . . . 


I nearly squealed out loud!  I just happen to have the sewing pattern for this Ceil Chapman design, as well as my very own version of the dress.


According to the caption, Jean Patchett's version was worn in a DuPont Orlon ad in 1955.  So her gown is probably made of rayon satin, or perhaps an acetate?


I love having the chance to see how the designer originally envisioned the piece.

A similar thing happened with my Emerald Green Ceil Chapman gown a few years back.


A random Etsy search led to the discovery of yet another original Ceil Chapman that was reproduced as a Spadea pattern.


Now I just need to find a vintage photo of that dress on a model!

[Click on image for source]

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Out of Season



Normally as soon as the beautiful weather appears, I like to banish the black and the wool from my wardrobe.  Even if I end up chilly by the time the sun goes down, I would rather wear something to suit the sunny skies.  Not to mention the fact that the winter-appropriate side of the closet gets tiresome after a few months, no matter how much I may love certain items contained therein!



So even though I am going to do my best to wear Spring things from here on out, I managed to finish my Ceil Chapman dress in time for Marin Symphony’s latest concert, and I really wanted to take her out for a spin before the heat made it impossible to wear a black wool dress.  It actually turned out to be quite comfortable for April weather with the short sleeves.  


The concert was magnificent, by the way!  And an evening of Carmina Burana and Chichester Psalms somehow seemed like the proper event to debut this dress.  



The issues with the invisible zipper on my latest Britex project gave me the courage to fix the zipper on this dress.  And as a few of you mentioned, the problem was actually solved with minimal fuss.  The most irritating part was picking out black thread on black wool.  Thank goodness for that organza strip I used to stabilize the zipper, or else I might still be going at it with a seam ripper.


It really feels good to have finished this dress.  I am not a complete failure!  Whoo-hoo!


Not only can I now zip the dress up, I can do so all by myself!  All it needed was a sturdy standard zipper!



Dress & Belt: Made by me, Spadea 1251 c/o Vintage Pattern Lending Library
Shoes:  Nina
Earrings:  Givenchy
Ring:  Grandfather’s school ring
Hair Flower:  Made by me
Clutch:  Banana Republic

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Getting There


Progress continues on my Ceil Chapman project.


Instead of adding a lining to an already intricate design, I decided to go the easy route and underline as suggested by the instructions. 


The back skirt drape, which I initially thought was tacked on top of a fitted skirt or attached with a belt, turns out to be part of the actual design and held at the center back with two internal “lining” pieces.  I do not agree with the description, and would consider those pieces a "stay" to help the soft pleats remain in their proper place.


After living on my dress form for a couple of days, the pleated section started to drop (not very surprising as it is cut on the bias).  I find straightening a hemline to be a tedious process, so doing a bit here and there in between more interesting parts of construction helps to make it less painful.


To keep the bodice lining neck edge from stretching, I added a length of seam binding and stitched just inside the seam allowance.


And I ended up replacing the given neckline facing with a bias strip of my bemberg lining.  


This midweight wool is probably a little on the heavy side for this design (the sleeves were my first hint) so adding more bulk with a wool facing did not seem like a great idea.


For raw edges that were too bulky for a single fold of seam binding, I used two.  Two lengths were applied, one on each side of the seam, at which point the top edges were stitched shut with a zig-zag stitch.  This process was used on the waistline seam as well as the armhole edges.


This is really starting to look like a dress!





Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Decoding the Mystery of the Pleats

I knew going in that this project was not going to be the easiest dress I have ever worked on.  And that is fabulous – I love challenging patterns - I wish that contemporary offerings were this involved and creative. 


But I am never prepared for the difficulties that arise from drafting mistakes.  Why do I always assume that pattern markings are correct?  As I have mentioned before, I expect instruction errors, but drafting errors make me feel like I am a complete newbie with no sewing skills whatsoever.


My first Ceil Chapman for Spadea design experience was somewhat similar.  The sleeve would not set-in properly.  I made it work, but still wondered what the heck I was missing.  Months later, I received an email from someone working with the same pattern who was having the very same issue.  Oh my goodness . . . it wasn’t me!  I am not a nincompoop!

But fast forward a couple of years, and I once again think that Spadea walks on water.  Not only that, Deirdre generously sent me this pattern to test and I was failing miserably.


The blue lines are the original markings on the Skirt Front.

So here is what happens if I follow the instructions:  crease on the solid line and bring fold to the dotted line to create a pleat.  What a mess.  Attempting to manipulate the fabric this way meant fighting the grainline, not to mention the jagged edge that was created would never match back to the bodice.  Aargh!!


Okay, let’s ignore that piece for the moment because I am feeling a wave of crankiness come upon me.

The Waist Front gets pleated and then basted to the Bodice Lining (which looks very much like a standard bodice).  Sounds easy.


The bottom pleat comes up, and the top pleat folds down.  


Crease the bottom solid line, bring it up to the dotted and suddenly all the jogs and curves disappear into the lower curve of an armhole and the side line of a bodice.  


Beautiful!  I’m on a roll now . . .


The top solid line is creased and pulled down to the . . . hold everything . . . this is not working at all.  What the &*%$!?!


Deep breaths . . .

In a perfect world, this piece is going to match back to a standard bodice, and I need at least a seam allowance worth of armhole to attach the sleeve.  (From reading ahead in the instructions, I know this is a standard set-in sleeve.)    


When I try to make it look like the diagrams, this is what I come up with – that looks a whole lot better!


Out of curiosity, I take a Sharpie and draw lines along the folded edges.  Remove the pins, open the piece, and what do I discover?  The original lines on the pattern pieces have only one point in common with the new fold lines, and this happens at the 5/8” seam allowance mark.  


Interesting . . . but rather confusing.


Time to get back to the skirt.


Obviously, the waist seam needs to match back to the bodice waist seam, which is basically a straight line.

If I ignore the lines except at the 5/8" mark and follow the upper edge, things start to improve.  The remaining portion that sticks up is folded downward until both raw edges match.  The newly created fold line is pushed back towards the remaining dotted line at the 5/8" mark.


Now I have an upper skirt edge that I can work with!

But I am not looking to decode one of Da Vinci’s diagrams when I work with a pattern – I want clarity!  I like to think that if I was given a vintage perforated pattern without any instructions, most days I could piece together a reasonable facsimile of the original.  If I was handed these particular pieces, I would have absolutely no clue on how to proceed.  But that is what diagrams and illustrations are for!


I cannot claim that this was the original intent of the design, but after studying the shading on the illustration, I think I came pretty close!


So while this part of the construction was extremely challenging, and a bit frustrating, I can honestly say it is the most fun I have had in quite some time now that I have cracked the code!  And the design is so worth the effort!

*P.S.  I have had a few questions recently about why I make muslins.  This is an excellent example of why they can be so essential to a project.  If I had cut into my wool and had to repeatedly manipulate the upper edge of the skirt to try to figure out what was happening, it would have made an awful mess and I might even have ruined the piece.  With a mock-up, I can make all sorts of marks, use contrasting thread that is easy to remove if a mistake is made, and I can always cut another piece at minimal cost if things really go sideways - not to mention the ability to fix errors that may be hiding within the pattern itself - because they just might exist!*

Monday, February 10, 2014

Ceil Chapman, Draping Genius




My recent obsession with everything Ceil Chapman means that my eye goes straight to her designs when I peruse Pinterest.  I am usually lazy about clicking through to original sources, but something made me follow through with this picture, and boy am I glad I did - because it led to a treasure trove of gorgeous designs.


Mme. Grès is often referred to as the queen of draping, but I believe Ceil Chapman gives her a run for her money.  So I was thrilled to find these patented examples of her designs; how wonderful to find original source material, complete with dates, and even a few clues as to construction if you look closely.


It also brought to mind the idea of fashion copyright - a hot button topic in recent years.


Certainly there are a limited number of ways to cover the human form, and I suspect that at this point, they have all been done before.  Can anything really be considered new or fresh?  Comme des Garçons “Lumps and Bumps” Collection from 1997 comes to mind – but other than wearable art, would it not be possible to find “copies” of any garment if you look hard enough?  


And what about an a-line dress – can someone claim ownership over a design that is incredibly basic?  How complex does it have to get before a design is truly distinguishable from another?  I can see the designer of a massively intricate haute couture creation getting credit in perpetuity for their genius, but then again, how likely is it that someone would or even could copy it.  


Does anyone really think that the disposable copies that are mass produced and hocked by fast fashion companies are anything like the designer originals?  I doubt that someone willing to spend $500 for a designer dress with an expectation of quality goods is going to be happy with the cheap knock-off version.  The average consumer would never be able to afford that expensive design.  So is the designer, in fact,  losing a customer?  Probably not.  And is this terribly different than the department stores that were purchasing quality goods from fashion houses fifty and sixty years ago and having a talented individual create a house brand version?   


Since consumers (or the majority of them) no longer seem interested in buying quality instead of quantity, and demand that the very latest must-have item arrive at their door tomorrow morning, getting rid of the H&Ms and Forever 21s of the world seems rather hopeless.  After all, quality and old world craftsmanship is never going to happen quick enough for people in this instant gratification age.


How about using part of the design such as the bodice, and pairing it with a different skirt?  Would that be considered a breach?  Here are certainly instances where Ms. Chapman has borrowed her very own ideas.  A petal bust here, a surplice bodice there, simply swapped with a skirt from a previous design.


And what would you think about someone re-producing one of these designs - the patent, after all, is long expired.  Personally I would find it extremely tacky to make a profit off of a line for line copy (but I don't imagine huge corporations really care about anything other than money).


But putting aside the question of whether or not there is anything proprietary about fashion design, these looks are fabulous.  And I will admit that I am not above borrowing or being inspired by those who I consider the masters.  Isn't imitation considered the highest form of flattery?  Legality aside, I sure do love looking at and being inspired by beautiful things. 


Now if only I could find an original version of the pattern I am currently working on or the original patented line drawings - wouldn't that be something!?  




[Click on image for source]