Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion. Show all posts

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Clothes and how to wear them... by Sheila Claydon




In my book The Hollywood Collection, I write about clothes and fashion. I do the same, to some extent, in Golden Girl, another book which will be published early next year. Both these books are vintage romance, however. Books that I wrote in the seventies and eighties when I was into fashion and loved buying new clothes.

Oh how things have changed. Clothes! Do you love them or hate them, and I don't mean that in the 'let's get naked sense.' Me? The older I get, the more I hate them...well hate the ever changing fashion of them, and trying to find what best suits me. No, strike that. I know what suits me, it's just that nowadays I have to plough through a whole lot of 'mutton dressed up as lamb' stuff to find what I want.

Then there's the fit. I'm the same size now that I've always been, so how come pants sag and sweaters often have sleeves whose length is out of all proportion to the body shape. Oh, I know. It's because they are designed to be worn by young girls with pert behinds who like to pull their sleeves down over their fingers, and I have to admit they look cute. What looks cute on a teen or anyone under 40 for that matter, doesn't look cute on a woman of more mature years, however. And it's not going to change because the fashion industry is not interested in the older woman, and doesn't design for changing body shapes.

There are solutions of course. Buy expensive or find a really good dressmaker who does fittings and alterations. This is the advice I saw recently in a fashion column that I can't seem to stop reading even though most of the clothes featured are either beyond my purse or things I wouldn't be seen dead in. The same fashion editor also listed which pants give the best fit. Unfortunately I threw the article away without making a note, so here I am, back to square one.

When I was young I loved fashion. It was mini-skirts and long white boots (with matching lip-stick!) in the sixties, flares and stack heels in the seventies, leg warmers, shell suits and sweaters with garish motives in the eighties, pants-suits in the nineties, and so on and so on. I bought them all, loved bright colours and made some terrible fashion mistakes which I fortunately didn't notice at the time.

Now, however, I am much more comfortable in quieter clothes, mostly pants and tops, and shoes that are easy to walk in. They are available of course. Jeans, trainers, sweatshirts and gilets are fine for shopping, lounging around, dog walking, housework, but fashion wise they don't quite hack it, so I have a plan. From now on I am going to wear a uniform of sorts. I know what I like: slim cut pants, longish tops, scarves, boots, and on the rare occasion I wear a dress, something plain brightened up by accessories. I also hate mixing too many colours, so my future uniform will be a mix and match wardrobe that doesn't stray much beyond navy-blue, black, grey/charcoal, and to brighten it, fuchsia , pale blue, emerald green or turquoise, the colours that I know suit me well. I might also go searching for a seamstress who can take the sag out of those pants, unless I'm lucky enough to find some that fit properly. Of course I'll keep the jeans and sweatshirts because the dog still needs walking.

OK, so it might sound boring, but oh the relief. A uniform that I can put on and forget, knowing that while it might not be up there in high style, it is too conservative to ever really go out of fashion. Oh, and I'm going to buy lots of scarves as well. Bright, bright, cheerful scarves.



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Friday, August 26, 2016

How fashion has changed—or has it? Tricia McGill

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Fashion has played a large part in my life. Before my focus centered on writing I worked in the fashion industry for many years. My book A Heart in Conflict is set in the world of fashion and because of my past it was obvious that at least one of my books should feature the industry that was part of my life for so long.

It all began when I was a child. I guess it seemed inevitable that I turn to fashion as a trade as my mother was an expert seamstress and to be honest I can’t recall ever wearing a dress as a child that was not made by her or two of my eldest sisters who later took over the task. Joan was a pattern maker and also forelady of a clothing factory. It was she who more or less coerced me into fashion. I fought against it for a year after leaving school and argued that I did not wish to work in a factory. But a position in the cutting room where she worked became vacant and between her and my mother I was convinced to give it a try. Just as a side note, I wanted to work in stables or kennels. Ah,
Joan was the glamor girl
of the family-note the shirred
bathers (they were passed
down to me)
 that dream was never to reach fruition. My eldest sister was an expert embroiderer and so all my dresses from an early age were decorated with her wonderful smocking, a tradition that has more or less died out, as most of this type of work is now done by machines.

Joan would bring home fashion books and I spent many happy hours cutting out the ladies and lining them up for my impromptu fashion parades. My favorite of all time were the paper doll books. Not a birthday or Christmas went by when I was not given one of these books. I just loved changing the outfits to suit the occasion. On trying to find pictures to illustrate this I learned that the designs and dolls still exist but are certainly more elaborate than my early gifts. My sisters made me a rag doll and she got many a change of outfit, and hairstyle. Her hair was fashioned from thread wound around a book and stitched to her
head.
The color and length was changed regularly as the whim took me. How I wish I had kept that cherished childhood love, but like many childhood mementos she disappeared. Once we reach teenage there are too many other intrusions. I did keep my old china doll for years and only parted with her
a short time ago when she finally fell apart.  I have kept the dress she wore and her bootees, as both were made by my eldest sister for her first child.
A early book of paper dolls.
I was so used to my sisters and mother making their own clothes that it didn’t seem unusual to me. Once I began in the cutting room, fabric became easily available so therefore I also made all my own clothes. For many years I didn’t possess a shop bought dress. I do have an admission to make here, for I cannot lie, I am not a good seamstress like my mother or sisters. Yes I can make a pattern from scratch and of course sew the garment up but I become impatient when it actually comes to the putting it together part. My mother had a Singer treadle machine, electric of course by now, a far cry from her early one that had to be hand driven. I learned to sew on that, and have never been without a sewing machine since I married and left home.

After my arrival in Australia I opened my own business for a while. Another sister came along with me as she is the expert sewer. It was fun while it lasted and some of the customers were dears who were always up for a chat while being fitted. I learnt many a family secret. Mind you, there were the hard to please women whose figures fluctuated with their tempers. There is nothing worse than having a bridal gown finished only to find that the bride has lost or put on weight suddenly, either through binge eating or fast dieting.

Aunt Flo (pictured) was also in the industry. This pic was taken circa 1040.



My dear little shop-note my
dogs always came to work
with m
This was in the days before all the rules and regulations began to make life difficult for starting up a small business. I simply rented a shop, got my husband to decorate it, bought some fabric, and away I went. Until one day an officious looking man carrying a clip board came into the shop wondering if I had registered. Registered? Er, well no. But this was soon rectified as he was a gentleman and soon explained how to go about it. It was hard work in that little shop, and long hours, and so I returned to the factory. I loved my work, even though it was often tough going at change of season times when everything was always wanted yesterday.
Note my sketch on the wall.
See, we did wear knee high
boots and mini skirts then.


They say what goes around comes around, this is so true in the world of fashion. I don’t
Alma Cogan
mean haute couture which is at times bizarre in order to be different and outstanding. But as far as the average woman and what she is wearing today, my sister and I often nudge each other and say, “Remember that outfit I had that was just like the one this woman on the TV has on.”  Yes, we went through the maxi phase and the mini phase, the high boots and the strappy sandals and high wedge phase, the high-busted and the dropped waistline. Even the full skirt with layers and layers of stiff petticoats beneath, favored by swing dancers, was a trend we endured. The older ones among you will recall Alma Cogan who wore the really full skirt, and so we followed suit. I just Googled Alma and would you believe heard a snip from one of my all-time favorite songs by her, “Little things mean a lot.” Sorry, I digressed to shed a tear. Even my wedding dress was full-skirted, with yards and yards of tulle.

  I think Bridal gowns have undergone the most changes. The bride of the 40s or 50s wouldn’t have
worn a strapless gown. Most brides had a long train and carried elaborate bouquets.
  
One thing that always disappointed me and my sisters was our parent’s lack of wedding photos. Our mother never talked about her wedding day, in 1914 or thereabouts, and it is likely they had a civil ceremony where she wore a suit that she would have made herself, like this one in the picture. She would have also made her hat. 




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