Warning: This Post Is Not About Sewing and You Might Not Like It

I started out today planning on a most innocuous post.  I thought I would just post up this spread from a recent Little Red Book (JCPenny) that was at my mom's house (my mom is the recipient of literally the largest collection of mail-order catalogs in the entire known universe).  I thought that all my little friends who like vintage might like to see this, if they hadn't been so lucky as to receive one at their own homes.  It's an interestingly commercial take on vintage.

As it happens, I had this catalog open on my desk when a co-worker walked by and decided to take a look.  "That's so cute!" she exclaimed. "You know.  Without the hooker shoes."

Ah.  Yes.  The Hooker Shoes.

This forced me to confront a topic that has been on my (and many other people's) mind lately: "appropriate" clothing.

I will say right off the top that I am not what I would consider to be a socially conservative person.  I have always considered myself to be at the very least a social moderate, if not a liberal (I'm talking about my social position, as opposed to my political one, which we won't discuss here).  As a result, I am generally of the opinion that people should be allowed (and in this country have some very specific legal rights) to express themselves as they see fit, regardless of whether I agree or disagree with that expression.  I just wanted to say this before I continued on, in case anyone was under the impression that I think people should dress how I expect them to, simply because I expect it.  I do not.  And, to be just completely clear, I am very much not prudish when it comes to people's sexuality.  On the other hand, I think boundaries amongst total strangers are important.  (So of course I'm having a nice little rant about a highly divisive and emotional topic on my sewing blog.)

So for the record, I am not a prude.  On the other hand, you have the overwhelming prevalence of the Hooker Shoes.  This spring I have been totally unable to find a decent pair of sandals I can wear to work, in part because it seems like anything that has a closed back or strap at the heel (vital for work) is, essentially, a Hooker Shoe.  Which I find repellent.  And finally, getting to my point (ha! you're still reading?) this has caused me lately to ponder the concept of the mainstreaming of sexualized clothing throughout history.

More specifically: it seems as though people are frequently impressing on me that throughout history, the sexually explicit nature of clothing changes as a new generation begins to adopt what was once considered "immoral" clothing into everyday wear.

As an example: when the change from floor length to knee length dresses happened during the first quarter of the 20th century, we are often told that older people complained that this mode of dress was "immoral" because (one is led to assume) it was sexually explicit.  One is generally then led to look derisively at those foolish old people who would consider a bare leg to be anything other than a bare leg.  They are at best just haplessly old-fashioned and behind-the-times and at worst oppressive. 

The logical conclusion to this mocking attitude is that anyone who feels that current clothing is too sexual clearly is just "behind-the-times" and "old-fashioned" or in some way oppressive.  For the past year or more I've been thinking that I'm just getting old because I think women wearing skintight miniskirts and bondage shoes are making a sexual statement, rather than merely a fashion statement.  (I think part of my problem is the highly submissive nature of bondage shoes, as opposed to the merely sexual nature of other types of clothing.  I'm still unconvinced that a deep-plunge halter top is appropriate office-wear for my physician's receptionist, but I could at least say that it's not advocating the submission of women as sexual playthings.  Possibly.)

To be honest, I'm still not totally convinced one way or the other.  Since I wasn't actually alive in 1925, I can't really verify (without some significant research that I do not have the time to make) that young people perceived their clothing as merely fashion and not as a form of sexual language.  On the other hand, I can't for sure say that about young people now either.  Is current clothing, for instance the ubiquitous Hooker Bondage Shoe, merely about fashion or is it intended to be a statement about overt sexuality?  And even more perplexing, is this a good or bad thing?  As the mother of two young girls, I'm inclined to think extreme sexuality in clothing (particularly of the objectifying/submissive kind) isn't such a great thing, but...?   On the other hand, I wouldn’t advocate sexual repression under any circumstances.  Which leads to?  Confusion.

So.  Modern clothes.  Too sexy or just plain cute?  Discuss.

 

 

(Don't you just love it when perfectly polite blogs suddenly veer explosively off-tangent like an elephant on ketamine?  Sure you do.)

edit: I will admit that the shoes in that photo do not make a particularly strong statement.  These do a little more and if I had more time I’m sure I could find some really crazy weird shoes.   I saw a woman wearing the second pair, or something very similar, last Sunday.  She was pretty clearly dressed for church.  I had to wonder how the rest of her congregation felt about her footwear, except that it’s very clearly the norm around here.

 

Sleeveless

adjective

1. having no sleeves
2. unproductive; a fruitless search; a vain attempt; “a sleeveless errand”
   

Right.

In a previous post I mentioned that I used my first attempt at a customized pattern block for TLo to make a  sleeveless tunic.  Well, here it is. 

I had the idea that if TLo couldn’t wear it, maybe The Big One could (remember her? Bet you thought we’d left her at the zoo or something).  I mean, what could be more clever?  Surely a garment made from a pattern block custom fit to a child who is a size 10 in the chest will look just fab on a child who’s roughly a size 4 in the chest.  Right?  Right?

 

Right.  This was an ill-formed idea.

Here’s the tunic on TLo.

Then I tried it on The Big One.

When my mother saw them, she immediately said “They look like Hutterites.”  Yes.  That is totally the look I was going for.

I think the biggest problem is that this fabric is relatively stiff and I was overly cautious in adding flare to the A-line shape.  I should have added quite a bit more and as it is, it doesn’t drape well at all.

Needless to say, this garment was less than a success.  Which is a shame, because the front placket is a pretty nice idea.  I pulled the pattern for that straight out of David Page Coffin’s iconic Shirtmaking book.  That is one awesome book.  Here’s a link to his blog: DPC Making Trousers.  And here’s the placket.  (The color is off.)

Not brilliant construction, unfortunately.  I didn’t mark the reinforcement rectangle and you can see that it came out crooked.  Duh.  Stupid lazy mistake.  But since no one is likely to wear this much I guess it doesn’t matter. 

This is what the back of that application looks like, it’s a very nice clean finish (despite my crooked sewing).

My understanding of DPC’s instructions has always been that it should end up like this, with the top line of stitching hitting above the slit where the two bands fit into the shirt.  But next time I do this, I’m going to make it come out with the stitching below that so that it’s a sealed seam.  That just makes more sense to me (and it’s totally possible that I’ve misunderstood the instructions and that’s how it’s supposed to be in the first place).

The plus in all this is that I have a New and Improved Block to work from for TLo, which hopefully will result in more successful (and fewer “sleeveless”) garments.  Plus, I still have at least one yard of this fabric left so I should be able to make something else out of it, because it’s awfully darn cute.  Fashion Fabric Club.  Gotta love ‘em.

WWEPW?

I'm not even going to bother making TLo any more t-shirts, because I'm pretty sure as soon as school is out (in exactly one month), she will downright refuse to put anything on her body that has a sleeve.  Actually, I correct that: she did allow that a cap sleeve (which she didn't know the word for but, based on her highly dramatic pantomime, very clearly understood the definition of) was an acceptable form of sleevage.  But nothing else will make the cut.

Because TLo has become obsessed with summer dresses.  Sundresses, to be exact. She is not interested in having any part of her shoulders or back covered.  With one notable exception:

Today (for the third time in a row) she has insisted that she wear her white cardigan with only the top button done.  Why, you ask?  "Because it looks the most cute that way, Mom."  Clearly the unspoken end of that sentence was "you fashionless cretin".  (This fashionista attitude is backed up by eHow.com's "How To Look Stylish In A Cardigan" article, in which item number 4 is: "Experiment with buttoning just the top button or two for a casual, fashion forward look."   Although taking fashion advice not only from eHow.com, but from a medical doctor as well, does somewhat make me question the expertise factor.)

I've decided for my own self-preservation to not tell TLo about the existence of sweater clips.