Tag Archives: Lutterloh

Journey to the far east…

Well, were should I start….

Back in 2012 I read a beautiful post on 1950ies Sari-dresses on Tuppence Ha’Penny Vintage. Obviously the 1950ies loved the gold-decorated fabrics and mixed them as well as some Sari-style elements with european contemporary fashion.

This put me back even further in time. In the early 2000 my father worked as as service technician, traveling half the world to install and repair the machines his company sold all over the globe. It must have been 2005 when he travelled to Pakistan for a couple of weeks. As you can imagine we children, my brother and I were always very curious to hear from his travels and sometimes he even brought us some gifts. This time he brought me a traditional garment he found at a Pakistani market. I always thought of it as a Sari, but obviously it is a Shalwar kameez with a dupatta: wide trousers, a long top with slitted sides and a matching scarf, I am sure you know this kind of garment, though you didn’t know its name.

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Unfortunately he was neither able to talk to the seller nor able to read the sizes on the wrapping. So when I unwrapped it I found myself face to face with a huge, huge! page of trousers and a not quite as large top (the trousers are meant to be wide and are gathered with a cord when worn, but this was still much too large for me).
Of course I was happy nontheless, thinking I could alter it sometime in the future ( I had just started sewing). So it went into my closet. Here you can see it hanging behind me in 2005, during me moving into a new apartment (therefore the wardrobe still misses its curtains).

18-year old me, deciding which old greeting cards should be discarded
18-year old me, deciding which old greeting cards should be discarded

And there it hung for years. At some point I actually planned to fit it, but then I thought ‘when would I wear it’ and my motivation was gone the same second. At the same time I liked to fact of having three different, but matching fabrics, although we could argue about their beauty (still have to think of 1990ies nightgowns somehow).
Until the above mentioned post. As soon as I saw the dresses made from Sari-fabrics I had to think of my own oriental garment in the wardrobe nearby. But it took me until 2015 to actually realize this plan. Ten years, four moves, tree diploma (the university-entrance one from school and two at two different universities), two countries, this Shalwar kameez has seen a lot of my life.

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I knew I couldn’t turn this into an evening dress as the examples linked above, mine wasn’t silk fabric with gold embroidery, but printed cotton. So I searched for a pattern to make something like an everyday dress. I found it in my 1955/6-Lutterloh-book (see Klara, sooner than I thought!), a blouse with a matching skirt. I enlarged the pattern using my measurements and it fit without any alterrations (!). What I did alter a little was the skirt: I knew I wanted to use the scarf as a ruffle at the bottom. Because it was very wide I cut it in half and gathered it until it fit the width of the skirt pattern at half length (well, actually 2/3), the top part I cut according to the pattern.

For the top part of the skirt as well as for the facings of the blouse, I used the trouser’s fabric, the blouse itself was cut from the top fabric. I made bias binding from the trouser fabric to finish the sleeves and the hem and added a pocket into one of the skirt’s seams (Lutterloh patterns are very basic, they include the major pattern pieces, but things like facings, waistband or pockets have to be added and drafted yourself). The front parts and the collar of the blouse as well as the waistband are enforced with fusible interfacing. I only had three of the white buttons so I went for an assymetric closure instead of the two-row variant shown in the pattern. The skirt closes with a clear plastic button and two press buttons (the pleats hide any opening, so a zipper wasn’t necessary).

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The two parts together are really…special. I don’t think I will ever wear them like this, the colours are a little too wild for my taste, therefore I styled it a little over the top. But I can easily imagine wearing the skirt with a white blouse or maybe even the blouse with high-waist-trousers. At the moment I wear a navy blue cardigan with it, so only the collar is peeking out. Like this and with matching navy shoes it might even work as a standard outfit.

Whilst the fabric pattern isn’t really oriental and the term Sari is wrong, I still think of it as my Sari-dress and it makes sitar-melodies stick in my brain. This and the fact that today’s post will be the last one in march because I will use the two weeks off work to come as two weeks off blogging and will maybe spend some days away from home, it seems fair enough to link to this month’s Krea-Kränzchen, themed “Fernweh”, so wanderlust.
I won’t be posting here for the next two weeks. Because I start a new job next month I don’t think I will be able to hold my twice-a-week-post-frequency, but have to limit it to one post a week from April on, I’m sorry.

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So…wo fange ich an…
2012 las ich einen sehr schönen Post über 50er-Jahre Kleider aus Sari-Stoffen auf Tuppence Ha’Penny Vintage. Offenbar mochte man damals die gold-bestickten Sari-Stoffen und nähte modische Kleider mit exotischen Details daraus.

Das widerum warf mich zeitlich noch weiter zurück. In den 2000er Jahren arbeitete mein Vater als Servicetechniker und kam mit Reparaturen und Inbetriebnahmen in der ganzen Welt herum. Es muss 2005 gewesen sein, als er für wenige Wochen in Pakistan arbeitete. Wie ihr euch vorstellen könnt waren mein Bruder und ich immer neugierig, was er diesmal zu erzählen wusste und manchmal brachte er uns auch etwas mit. Dieses mal bekam ich ein traditionelles Gewand, welches er auf einem pakistanischen Markt gekauft hatte. Lange dachte ich, es sei eine Art “Alltags-Sari”, in Wahrheit nennt sich dieses Gewand aber Salwar Kamiz und besteht aus Salwar, einer Hose, Kamiz, einem langen Oberteil und der Dupatta, einem langen Schal. Auch wenn man den Namen nicht kennt, gesehen habt ihr dieses Gewand höchstwahrscheinlich alle schon einmal.

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Leider konnte sich mein Vater mit dem Verkäufer absolut nicht verständigen und verstand auch die Größenangaben auf der Packung nicht. Als ich mein Geschenk auspackte, sah ich mich daher mit einer wahrhaft gigantisch großen Hose konfrontiert sowie einem geringfügig weniger großen Oberteil (die Hosen sind weit geschnitten und werden zusammengebunden, aber es war trotzdem viel zu gross).
Natürlich freute ich mich trotzdem und war zuversichtlich, das ganze irgendwann mal auf meinen Körper anzupassen. Daher wanderte es erst einmal in meinen Schrank. Oben seht ihr ein Foto das während eines Umzugs 2005 gemacht wurde, hinter mir im Schrank seht ihr es hängen.

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Ja, und da hang es erstmal. Zwischendurch nahm ich mir dann wirklich vor es zu ändern. Dann überlegte ich, wann ich so etwas tragen würde und meine Motivation sank zugleich wieder. Gleichzeitig gefiel mir der Gedanke, drei zusammenpassende Stoffe zu haben, auch wenn man sich darüber streiten, ob sie so schön sind (ich muss bei der Farbkombination die ganze Zeit an 90er Jahre Nachthemden denken).
Bis ich dann den oben verlinkten Post las. Bei den Sari-Kleidern musste ich sofort an das lila Mitbringsel denken, das da neben mir im Schrank schlummerte. Aber es brauchte doch bis dieses Jahr, bis ich das Projekt endlich in Angriff nahm. 10 Jahre, vier Umzüge, drei Abschlüsse (Schule und an zwei verschiedenen Universitäten), zwei Länder, dieser Salwar Kamiz hat sehr viel von meinem Leben gesehen.

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Mir war klar, dass ich kein Abendkleid aus diesen Stoffen nähen könnte, es ist keine gold-bestickte Seide, sondern bedruckte Baumwolle. Daher schwebte mir eher sowas wie ein Tageskleid vor. Fündig wurde ich in meiner Lutterloh-Ausgabe von 1955/6, eine Bluse mit dazu passendem Rock. Den Schnitt habe ich mit meinen Maßen vergrössert und komplett ohne Änderungen genäht. Einzig den Rock habe ich an die Dupatta angepasst: Ich wusste, dass der Schal als Saumrüsche Verwendung finden sollte, also schnitt ich ihn in der Mitte durch. Danach war er immer noch so breit wie ca. 2/3 der Rocklänge. Ich rüschte ihn auf die laut Schnittmuster erforderliche Weite und ergänzte den oberen Teil mit dem Stoff der Hose. Aus demselben Stoff schnitt ich die Belege der Bluse sowie Schrägband für die Ärmel und den Blusensaum. Die Bluse selber schnitt ich aus dem Kamiz.

Lutterloh-Schnitte geben nur die absolut notwendigen Schnittteile an, Belege, Bünde und ähnliches muss man sich dazu basteln. Daher fügte ich auch direkt noch eine Tasche in eine der Rocknähte ein. Der Rock schliesst am Bund mit einem durchsichtigen Knopf und darunter mit zwei Druckknöpfen, durch die ganzen Falten reicht das vollkommen. Bund, Kragen und Belege sind mit Vlieseline verstärkt. Da ich von den großen weißen Knöpfen nur drei hatte entschied ich mich für diese assymetrische Lösung, abweichend von der Zeichnung.

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Nun, zusammen getragen ist es wirklich sehr…speziell. Die Farben sind mir auch einfach zu viel. Daher konnte ich nicht anders, als es für die Fotos absolut over-the-top zu stylen. Mit einer weißen Bluse stelle ich mir den Rock aber tatsächlich sehr schön vor, oder auch die Bluse mit einer Hose. Grad trag ich eine dunkelblaue Strickjacke drüber, so schaut nur der Kragen raus. Zusammen mit dunklen Schuhen könnte das sogar alltagstauglich sein.

Obwohl der Stoff nichts orientalisches hat und die Bezeichnung Sari falsch ist, in meinem Kopf bleibt das mein Sari-Kleid und ich muss die ganze Zeit an Sitar-Musik denken. Das und dass dies  mein letzter Post ist, bevor ich mir zeitgleich zu zwei arbeitsfreien Wochen auch zwei Blog-freie Wochen gönne (und vielleicht sogar ein paar Tage wegfahre), machen dieses Projekt einen schönen Beitrag zum diesmonatigen Krea-Kränzchen mit dem Thema “Fernweh”.
In den nächsten zwei Wochen wird es hier also sehr ruhig sein. Da ich ab April zusätzlich einen neuen Job habe, werde ich den 2x-die-Woche-Rhythmus wohl nicht beibehalten können, nach der Pause geht es dann wohl mit nur einem Post pro Woche weiter, sorry.

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blouse and skirt: ette with Lutterloh-patterns – hair veil: flea market – flower brooch: nos, gift from mum – belt: from my family – gloves: antique shop – shoes: Siemes Schuh Center – fragrance: Stella McCartney-Sheers

 See you in april, love

ette

Me-Made-Mittwoch or: What I wore today

Usually there are two things that make it impossible for me to participate in the Me-Made-Mittwoch (= me made Wednesday, like me made may, but once a week): first,I forget it and only remember it took place when I read my blog feed the following morning. Second, even if I remember it I am not content with my outfit or do not wear anything selfmade that day.
Miraculously today was a day were both premises met, so welcome to the first pure outfit post in months!

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Some readers may recognize the skirt, my version of a 1955/6-Lutterloh-Pattern.

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The shirt was sewn after a Burda-Pattern (issue 2/2010) and I already made it in july 2012. There were a few holes in the sleeves’ seams I fixed a few days ago, so this feels nearly like a new garment. 🙂

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Yes, I was in a really good mood, although I had just come home from work. And no, I didn’t wear these shoes for work, but they look so much better than the burgundy loafers I wore during the day.

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shirt: ette/Burda – skirt: ette/Lutterloh – tights: Fogal, high heels: 2nd hand (Secondo Berne)/Christian Louboutin, 40s watch: flea market, ring: heirloom from my grandaunt

I wish you a nice evening, love

ette

Basic in black

One of my most worn wardrobe basics is my black half-circle-skirt. I made it in july 2012, inspired by a post on Casey’s Elegant musings.
From its beginning it had a few flaws, the worst one a lack of fusible interfacing in the waistband (simply because I didn’t find it and was too eager to sew to search it).
As for so many projects, I used the black fabric I originally had bought for my prom dress, with the wrong side out, because of that terribly shiny surface on the right side; you have seen it in my victorian sewing supplies box I showed you in january.
Now, having worn the skirt everytime as soon as it re-entered my wardrobe after washing, it began to show signs of use, the fabric turned grey and to make things worse I managed to iron it too hot, leaving a shiny mark next to the back seam.
I desperately had to sew to a successor!

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After consulting my patterns and sewing books and having considered what would be suitable for every day wear, I went for a 1955/56 Lutterloh-Pattern.

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I used the same fabric (but it was the rest, there nothing left of it, finally!) as for the old skirt, again with the wrong side out. For the back of the pocket and the waistband I used the right side, I don’t know if it is really visible in the photos (I have to excuse myself for the photos anyway, the camera settings were complete rubbish and I only noticed shortly before publishing this post, but I didn’t want to wait until I would be able to take new ones).

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the bright dot is the zipper’s slider.

When looking closely at the shadow the pockets casts in the drawing, you could see that the two parts of the skirt should both form the pocket, creating a really large pocket.

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I decided against this, because I know me. Though I love pockets, I would have my hands in them all the time and I would carry around half my handbag in them. Instead I sewed the pocket’s rear piece, cut in one piece with the back of the skirt, directly onto the back of the pocket. The edge on the front part was finished with a wide facing and this facing I connected to the back of the pocket. This left me with a different pocket opening, the rear part lying flat and it left me with a very shallow pocket of maybe 5cm, enough to store some coins for the coffee-break, but not enough to hide my whole purse.

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The pattern didn’t include a waistband. So after I had sewn the rest of the skirt, all I had to do was to cut a strip of fabric as long as I wished (it could have been longer, though), enforce it with fusible interfacing (yes, this time I knew where it was!) and a strip of stiff upholstery fabric (because it is really wide and really tight-fitting, I shouldn’t eat too much wearing it).

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Because old Lutterloh-Patterns are not really made for cut-and-go-sewing I started this skirt working very fast and without any serging at all. After I saw that this skirt was really going to be a success, I finished all seams by hand with a red satin binding.

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The zipper is hand-inserted, too. The waistband closes with a skirt clasp and two small press fasteners.

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blouse: collectif, skirt: Lutterloh/by me, petticoat: Blutsgeschwister, shoes: Ochsner

 

So much for today, see you soon, love,

ette

HSF Challenge #4: Under it all – A 1941 (slip) dress

As I already said, life kept me busy during the last weeks and even if I had time to sew, often enough I wasn’t in the mood for it.
As the due date for this challenge approached I decided to force myself to make it, though the project I had had in mind first wasn’t realizable anymore in such a short time.

I had no cut-out-and-set-to-work-pattern for anything undergarment-related (but  a Laughing Moon corset pattern but that would have been a little too much in such a short time) and one of my least loved steps while sewing is tracing the pattern.
So I searched for a pattern, that would need only a minimum of effort to prepare, but still be something I wanted to make. I quickly decided to try a Lutterloh-pattern, my first. Not only because enlarging patterns seems to be more fun than drafting them all on your own and second because I already own two Lutterloh-books, but I haven’t realized a single garment from neither of them. An undergarment seemed to be a good project to get to know how this system works.

For all of you who don’t know Lutterloh-patterns: The patterns are miniature sized and need to be enlarged. To enlarge them, you need a special scale that is part of every Lutterloh-book you buy. Most of the old books miss this scale, but it is fairly easy to make one yourself, copying the one in the book. This scale is attached to a standard measuring tape, a tack is punched through the scale, the exact position is determined by your body measurements, and pinned to a mark in the middle of the pattern, the pattern lying on a large sheet of paper. Dots and numbers tell you, where to turn the measuring tape to and how long the distances have to be. Like this you get a series of dots, when connecting these, you come up with an enlarged pattern, fitted to your size.
But the system is very basic. There are no markings, no hints what to fit where, no darts, no information about closure etc. Additionally, these are still historical patterns, so you will have to face the same fitting issues as with other vintage patterns.
If you want to try the system without bying a book (the old ones are pretty expensive), here you can find instructions and some patterns from 1941 issue (the same I own). Note: this is a german system, so are the instructions 😉 And this website tells you to pay attention to the printed size of the patterns, you really don’t have to. The patterns are enlarged radially, all you need is a non-distorted copy so the angles between the different marks are correct. I copied my card because I didn’t want to pierce through the old paper and doubled its size. This changes nothing in the ratio of the numbers, in my opinion it even makes you result more accurate, because the farther away the marks from your tack are, the less inaccuracy will result in the position of the new dots.
And to all american readers: this patterns are without seam allowances.

The project I chose is fairly simple. A slip dress consisting only of two cut parts, front and back (the left one):

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I already own multiple slips in light shades, so when I stumbled upon a black cotton batiste during the search for a fabric, I decided to use this. The fabric was in fact a leftover from a skirt. It had a scalloped embroidered edge, but was 140cm in width, so I had plenty of fabric left after having turned the 55cm next to the embroidery into a skirt, already years ago.
Yes, cotton batiste isn’t the perfect fabric to use for a slip but 1st) I can still wear it with a satin half slip if it really won’t work and 2nd) I intend to wear it not only as a slip dress, but also as a dres to wear at home or maybe even as a nightgown in summer.

Again, I shortened the pattern significantly, not only to fit me, but also to make it fit onto the fabric. Because my original embroidered skirt had been to wide I had cut away some fabric at one side, leaving me with one single repeat of the embroidery pattern still in my stash. Knowing that I will never again find a project with a similarly well matching fabric to use this, I decided to apply it as a decoration to the neckline (to prevent it from being too stiff I cut away the fabric underneath after having applied the embroidery). The rest of the neckline, as well as the straps I faced with a white cotton ribbon in a similar way Gertie described on her blog only days later (really, I had already finished it when I saw her post appear).

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The positions of the upright darts (in the front as well as in the back)  were marked in the pattern, but without scale, so I had to figure out the exact placement and the size myself. There is only one way for me to do things like this: dress my dressform, pin the darts, sew it, try it on. Most of the time, it works 🙂
This time I had to realize, that the fit was still far from being good and that I needed additional bust darts, after having added these I was content.

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Because of my limited amount of fabric I had cut the back in two parts, leaving me with a seam in the centre back. I used this to add a zipper in the waist, otherwise I couldn’t have made my darts so close-fitting while still being able to take the dress off, you see it ends between my shoulder blades.

An interesting side fact: Last year I was able to wear a toile, made from an 18th century robe à l’anglaise, preserved in the Bavarian National Museum in Munich. First I thought it was too small, but when I forced my back in a very upright position and pulled my shoulders backwards, it fit! That showed me, how different posture 200 years ago was compared to today. Now, when wearing this I have the same effect. Left the gaping straps when standing as I usually do, right when standing more upright.


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The Challenge: #4 Under it all

Fabric: black cotton batiste with white machine embroidery

Pattern: Lutterloh “Der Goldene Schnitt”

Year: 1941

Notions: thread, white cotton ribbon, nylon zipper

How historically accurate is it? The pattern is historical, the fabric is plausible. That’s it. It is shortened (but ends right below the knee, so not too short for 1940ies fashion), the machine embroidery isn’t authentic at all, neither is the nylon zipper nor its placement in the centre back.

First worn:  today

Total cost: The fabric cost me 5€/m 5 years ago, I bought two metres and made the skirt as well as the slip from it. The ribbon? No idea, was in one of my sewing baskets I bought at the flea market, same applies to the embroidery on the hem, 0,50€ for the zipper. The Lutterloh-book cost me around 40€, but there are plenty of patterns in it.