Vintage Maternity. Awesome.
What? You thought I’d be writing about St. Patrick’s Day? Sorry gang, the parade is out for us until the kiddies are bigger, and drinking is out for me (wine: okay!; car bombs: not okay!) for the foreseeable future. Chances are decent for an impromptu family get together later today, but my father is out of town on business and he’s usually the ringleader.
Anyway. I’m here to talk about sewing. Yesterday I went on a little field trip to the largest independently owned fabric store in New England, The Fabric Stash, on wind of a rumor that they have a good selection, open classes and a clothing designer on staff. (All true!) I picked up some fabric for my Folklore Bag, and was excited to start on it this morning.
And this morning I found out that my copy of the book was missing the pattern insert for this particular project.
After a quick phone call to Storey Publishing, a new (complete) copy is on its way. Very happy with the customer service, but am itching to get started on a sewing project.
Said itch has led me down the rabbit hole of vintage maternity patterns. Check out the awesomeness:
From the 40s. I swear to you this is a maternity pattern. I have no idea how – I mean, in my skinniest (and I have been pretty damn skinny at a few points in my life) there is no way my waist would ever have been that small. But pregnant? What?!?!?!?
From the 80s. Though completely opposite, these are not much better than the ones from the 40s. In fact, these are only a few short steps away from a burqa. Are they trying to hide they have a body altogether? Is there anything that could possibly be less flattering? I mean, really, you feel big enough when you’re pregnant without wearing a circus tent.
I am, however, completely in love with the next 2 patterns:
From the 60s and 70s, respectively. Now those are some cute, wearable maternity clothes. I might skip on the bloomers (perhaps they were a better idea back when the average age of pregnancy was early 20s, not early 30s, speaking from the state of my upper thighs these days), and the ankle length version of the 70s dress, but overall, I heart these.
Wish patterns these days were more than the dumbed-down, shapeless, fashionless tunics I have found so far. With home clothes sewing a dying (dead?) art, there’s just no point in developing a wide range of well designed patterns I suppose.