Dirndls and "Wearability"

Lena Hoschek Amalie Dirndl

After I wrote the post "Dirndl Mania," one of the comments expressed that while the dirndls were certainly cute, they are not wearable outside of maybe Oktoberfest. It's an intriguing comment, and I think the wearability factor probably depends on an intricate mix of geography, personal style, and the style of the dirndl itself.

I spent a few days in Southern Germany this summer and was surprised at how many women I saw walking around streets in dirndls. I figured that, given that I was largely in towns heavily visited by tourists, these were tour guides and employees of restaurants. However, in Regensburg, our tour guide was a young woman who shared some facts about typical dirndl wearing there. We passed a shop window which displayed mannequins wearing long dirndls.

The guide explained the significance of the dirndl, but said that women her age would almost never wear a long dirndl, that they preferred shorter ones that show more skin on the legs and cleavage. She also said that this demographic always has at least two dirndls: a "fun" one that's for "going out," and a "nicer" one for weddings and family celebrations. She said it was very common for a bride to request traditional dress at her wedding, meaning that girls and women would wear dirndls and boys and men would wear lederhosen. (I have to say that my fascination with this traditional dress has not extended to lederhosen. In Koblenz, I passed a bunch of drunken young men wearing lederhosen and it was like a terrifying gang of Overgrown Bavarian Manboy Frat Dudes. Little boys in lederhosen are always adorable though.) Interestingly, our tour guide also mentioned that lederhosen have become more popular for women to wear but that sometimes they veer toward the short and trashy (think Hotpants Lederhosen).

So, my limited experience on the matter tells me that if you live in Austria or Bavaria, dirndls are very much a part of a typical woman's wardrobe. But what if you live somewhere else and are in love with dirndls? Do you wear one once a year to your local Oktoberfest and that's that? That seems unsatisfactory. (Also, yesterday I went to the Bear Mountain Oktoberfest and was one of only 3 women wearing dirndls [see the other two below!]. I did see a woman wearing a t-shirt that read, 'This Is My Beer Drinkin' Shirt,' which was much more typical of the dress overall. Disappointing!)

One question, to my mind, is how does a designer make dirndls more wearable to the rest of the world? What about the dirndl makes it "unwearable"? Is it the blouse? Some designers, like CocoVero, do a great job of adapting the dirndl in ways that make it more like a dress. Adding sleeves, for instance.

CocoVero Dirndl

Designers like Julia Trentini make "dirndl dresses" or dirndlkleid which have sleeves and are more like '50s era shirtdresses than traditional dirndls. Julia Trentini's marketing copy even calls these dresses more "everyday" and mentions that they can be worn either with the apron (like a dirndl) or with a belt (like a dress).

Julia Trentini Marta Dirndl Dress

Julia Trentini Traudi Dirndl Dress

Which leads us to the apron. From my point of view, the one thing about dirndls that seems truly unwearable on a day-to-day basis is the apron. The rest of it is really a jumper and a blouse, and there are certainly ways to incorporate that into one's wardrobe. But the apron is perhaps the sticking point to the modern girl. One could wear the dirndl without the apron, though I know that's sacrilege in terms of traditional dress and custom. The designer in me also wonders if there's a way to hint at the apron: an overskirt or separate wrap skirt? For instance, this gorgeous Noh Nee dirndl suggests the line of the apron with the contrast fabric at the hem of the skirt and the sash at the waist. It could even be worn without the blouse.

Noh Nee Tere Dirndl

Of course, this entire debate this assumes that you care if something is wearable on a daily basis. Lots of stylish people, especially vintage-loving ones, wear things that the average person feels they can't "pull off."

What do you think? Is the dirndl wearable on a day-to-day basis? If not, are there ways to make it more wearable? Would you wear a dirndl without an apron?

Style Shifts

I've been traveling a lot lately. (That's an understatement.) Recently, going through security at some airport, I saw a woman who looked like the epitome of cool to me. She was wearing a flannel shirt, skinny black jeans, and slouchy motorcycle boots. Granted, I have a serious devotion to Grunge; so it might have been my inner Riot Grrl responding to this ensemble. The 90s was an awesome decade, as far as I'm concerned. Hole, Doc Martens, slips as outerwear; I love it all.

Anyway, this airport sighting has left me with a motorcycle boot obsession. As I've written about before, being a vintage devotee can sometimes make you feel like you have an obligation to dress vintage at all times. But lately, I've been feeling the urge to dress, well . . . cooler. 

You're welcome, fellow Pony fangirls.

Perhaps dyeing my hair pink has set off some sort of latent adolescent rebellion. (And perhaps this is why people usually get their pink hair days out of the way in their 20s?) In any case, on some days lately I've been feeling slightly more Joan Jett than Joan Holloway.

One of the awesome things about being a modern woman is that we live in a time when it's not only acceptable but encouraged to indulge personal style whims, whether or not they fit with your usual "look." At the risk of sounding trite, may I quote India.Arie? "Sometimes I shave my legs and sometimes I don't/Sometimes I comb my hair and sometimes I won't/Depend on how the wind blows I might even paint my toes/It really just depends on what feels good in my soul."

While the idea of "personal style" can be watered down in a Lucky magazine sense (Are you a "bohemian eclectic"? A "nouveau prep"?, etc.), I believe there's no doubt that the feminist movement brought us freedom to experiment with fashion in a way that previous generations couldn't. (Of course, I'm not suggesting that this was the major coup of the Women's Rights movement, just a happy byproduct.) Do you agree?

Anyway, my new motorcyle boots are set to arrive tomorrow. (Stop the presses!) I will update you accordingly.

Modern/Vintage

I think perhaps one of the biggest misconceptions about vintage enthusiasts is that we wear all vintage, all the time. People who see me in "vintage drag" are often surprised to hear that I own (and wear) jeans and (gasp!) sweatpants. It's certainly fun to give off a public image of total glamour, but it's also a bit of a pitfall: you can start to feel like you aren't allowed to wear jeans or sweatpants.

Not true! When I'm home, I live for comfort. When I walk through the door, I go straight to the bedroom to change into my "comfies." These include jeans, tank tops, wool socks, flannel jammies . . .  you get the point. One of my favorite "modern gal" outfits is jeans and a black tank top. It's my "sexy tough girl" drag.

When I have an event or a day in Manhattan, I generally go all out vintage glamour. Dresses, jewelry, foundation garments, stockings, heels. Lately I've been enjoying wearing the "wintertime jumper" from my book as a sheath dress. It's made in turquoise baby wale corduroy with a matching belt. Add polka dot stockings, heels, gloves, and earrings and it's a dressed-up look.

I'm curious what you all do (if anything) to maintain a modern/vintage balance. Is it something you think about? 

P.S. Can we talk about my hair just a little bit more? I wanted to thank you all for your lovely supportive comments in my last post! After one wash, my Atomic Pink hair has mellowed to a fruity pink that I love. The whole thing makes me feel girly and confident. So glad I took the leap!

The Working-at-Home Fashion Dilemma

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Readers, today is my last day in corporate America. Huzzah! While it's exhilarating, many challenges lie ahead. First and foremost: what the heck to wear?

I've spent the last 10 or so years cultivating a workplace style: one that's vintage but professional, appropriate yet colorful and artsy. Lots of pencil skirts, sheath dresses, pumps, etc. Now that I'm going freelance, it's time to cultivate a new style, preferably one that doesn't involve either uncomfortable footwear or—on the other end of the spectrum—elastic waistbands. You see, when at home I tend to stay in my pjs. I'll be working from my apartment a lot now (though also out of a studio) and I don't want to spend all my time looking like a slob. I want to take the opportunity to be a bit more casual, but not sloppy.

So, readers, any tips for freelance/stay-at-home fashion? I'm thinking comfy dresses are the way to go, and if I had all the time in the world, I'd whip up a few vintage housedress patterns. Like these:

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Or perhaps I could just swan about dramatically in this:

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I'm also interested in making some of my regular basics, like high-waisted pencil skirts and such, in comfy stretch fabrics. I'm especially psyched to make this DKNY sheath dress pattern in leopard print jersey (the first view on the left, ignore the blocky sandals):

Vogue 2091 (OOP)

But beyond that, I'm having trouble imagining what I'll wear on a day-to-day basis. Any ideas or advice, readers? How do I: 1) avoid looking like a slob all the time and 2) what new basics do I need in my wardrobe to stay chic and comfy?

A Portrait of the Blogger as a Young Dork

Readers, before I was a thirty-something dork obsessed with tailoring, I was a young dork obsessed with unicorns. In fact, one of my first independent sewing projects was a felt unicorn throw pillow, made in Home Economics. My mother is a fellow crafty person, and she indulged this love of magical horned ponies by knitting the sweater you see above. If you're a knitter, you'll know that a unicorn sweater is no small feat—it's a triumph of intarsia!

I thought you'd enjoy what she wrote on the back of the above picture:

Anyway, my mom and I were talking about THE SWEATER! yesterday. I just so happen to have a work function this week for which I need a unicorn-themed costume. (Long story. Let's just say I'm still Team Unicorn.) Well, Mom still has THE SWEATER! around; she refers to it as "her masterpiece," for obvious reasons. Do you see where this story is going, readers? The unicorn sweater is on its way back to me! And I'm going to attempt to squeeze into it! I'm so psyched.

Now I just need to get to work on making a sparkly horn and coordinating the rest of my ensemble. Back when the sweater was first made, I used wear it to school with the cutest matching purple corduroy skirt. (Yeah, I was so stylin'.) I'll have to see what I have in my wardrobe now that will do it the same justice.

Now, before you lambaste my young personal style, remember that this was during the heyday of Lisa Frank paraphenalia.

I have to say, I still get a little giddy when I see Lisa Frank stuff. Ah, memories.

I'm not really sure what this post has to do with sewing, but there you have it. GO TEAM UNICORN!!!!

Exercise Wear and Personal Style

I'll admit that I'm not really a fan of The Sartorialist (I find all that postured hipster chicness somewhat pretentious at times), but I thought he asked a really interesting question this week: "Does your personal style translate to your workout?"

The impetus for this question was the following photo, titled "What Chic American Women Wear to Work Out, New York." (Ugh, see what I mean about pretentious?)

First, it must be said: those are harem pants. Okay, moving on. We will speak no more of the harem pants.

The pants-which-shall-not-be-named bring up an interesting question for retro lovers and seamstresses alike: when you work out, are you trying to incorporate your fashion sensibilities into your ensemble? Or are you purely functional?

I fall into the purely functional camp. I require my workout clothes to be easy to care for, comfortable, and able to stand profuse sweating and many repeated washings. It had never occurred to me to try to sew my workout wear or to incorporate retro elements into it—until I got into hula hooping, that is. Now I can't stop thinking about cute outfits to hoop in! And I've been working hard on my "hoopin' romper" this week. Practicality may win out, though. A handmade creation isn't the way to go for every little practice session, I don't think.

Now, about you: have you ever sewn workout clothes? Do you try to incorporate your style into your gym gear? Or are you functional all the way?

Style Inspiration: Maude and Frida

Any Harold and Maude fans present? The 1971 cult classic film is a sentimental favorite of mine. I got to thinking about it one day recently as I was doing my hair. You see, I was trying to remember how I got started doing my hair in a braided updo, which has been my style of choice in this muggy weather. (See my video tutorial for this style here.) And then I remembered - it was Maude's style I was trying to emulate!

It's easy to see why I would have forgotten the original inspiration for this coif, as it spans many eras and cultures. I sometimes get teasing "Swiss Miss" comments when I wear my hair up in Heidi braids, seeing as this hairdo brings to mind yodeling in the Alps. My mother calls it my "fraulein" hair, another nod to its Euro roots. But then there's the glamorous Hollywood side of a braided updo: Casey did a great post on vintage up-dos that included Madelene Carrol's beautiful Heidi braids.

But the reason I love Maude's version the best is that it encapsulates her character as a feisty bohemian. Maude is an eccentric, sexy, glamorous, smart, charming 79-year-old woman, and her hairdo manages to get all that across somehow. Jeff thinks it a little amusingly strange that I should have a geriatric style icon, but it makes perfect sense to me.

I was also recently reminded by a yoga teacher that another one of my favorite women in history sported this hairdo: the excellent Frida Kahlo. (The teacher warned me not to grow a uni-brow to go with my braids. Indeed: I should be so lucky to pull off a uni-brow as Frida did!) This must have been another unconscious style inspiration for me, as I have long been a Frida Kahlo enthusiast. I spent a summer in Mexico City many years ago and I visited La Casa Azul once a week. I loved looking at the relics of her life - colorful dresses, skulls, religious tokens, and jewelry strewn everywhere. It must be said that Frida Kahlo goes down in history as the ultimate accessorizer of the Heidi Braids. Who else could pull off all those flowers right on top of one's head? (I can't seem to get the hang of it. Not for lack of trying, believe me.)

And look at the ribbon woven throughout! Genius!

It's sort of fascinating to make a connection between Maude and Frida: one fictional, one real - but both very off-beat, political, feminine, flamboyant, passionate, glamorous, tragic, and artistic. I think they make perfect style icons, don't you?

'Dear Gertie' (In Which I Attempt to Give Fashion Advice)

Readers, I love getting your e-mails. And I have a particularly interesting one to share with you today: a lovely lady named Kris wrote to me recently for vintage style advice. It was especially thrilling for me since it made me feel like a style columnist for one of them there fancy fashion magazines or something. Hence, "Dear Gertie" is born.

Kris is a beginning seamstress who would like to try her hand at vintage patterns, but has one nagging concern: her body type, which she describes as size 12-14 hourglass, or "aging Marilyn Monroe with a tummy bulge."

Here's what Kris had to say, in her own words:

Can those of us without supermodel flat stomachs wear a wiggle dress without the aid of our grandmother's girdle?

And ya know, in writing this email a new train of thought has steamed into the station. Why should I care if I have a few bulges? Rather than stressing out and trying to make myself fit the clothes, why shouldn't I just make the clothes fit me? . . . So, what say you? Should I face "reality" and continue with the jeans and t-shirts or forge ahead with the pencil skirt (and stiletto pumps) of my dreams? Can a regular, non-waspy woman make these vintage styles work without a winch and pulley system? Any suggestions on good styles for a beginner to start with?

As you can imagine, I have a lot of thoughts about all this. But let's start with the first part of the question: foundation garments. I feel like my thoughts on this subject vary from other ladies who like to wear vintage styles. Namely: I do not like girdles, and I do not feel I need to wear a girdle to make a vintage style look "right." I have one 50's style girdle made by Rago, and it does absolutely nothing for my figure. It actually makes me lumpier, with all the boning and hooks and such. I do make use of Spanx for smoothing purposes under fitted pencil skirts and sheath dresses. (Tip: I highly recommend Spanx control-top tights - perfect for winter!)

Now, to the question of facing reality. "Reality" can bite me. "Reality" tells me that I can't have a dress that fits me in both my waist and hips, that I have to choose one or the other. To this I say HA! Every dress and skirt I make needs extra room added to the hips. I could take this as a sign of defeat, but instead I like to think that conventional sizes simply aren't bodacious enough to contain me. Yeah, it takes a certain attitude. And, obviously, I am a big believer in making clothes fit ME, not making myself fit clothes.

My overall thought is this: In essence, you should definitely wear what YOU want and what you're comfortable in, and hopefully those two things overlap in some way. And honestly, Kris, it sounds like you have the perfect figure to pull this stuff off! Imagine that you're Joan Holloway from Mad Men. When I worry that I'm not skinny enough, I don't have the confidence to pull off pencil skirts and sheath dresses. But when I tell myself that I'm a smokin' hot curvy lady like Joan, it does wonders for my confidence. I guess it really is all in the attitude, huh? So here's your new mantra: What would Joan do?

As for style recommendations for curvier and plus size ladies: You might want to start with retro-style contemporary patterns rather than jumping into vintage patterns, with all their quirks and fitting issues. I think a simple high-waisted pencil skirt (try McCall's 5590 or Burda 8155) and a secretary blouse (maybe McCall's 5884 or Simplicity 2501) are very flattering on larger sizes and will help you get your sewing skills sharpened before moving on to bigger challenges.

There! I've done written an advice column! (Don't worry, I won't quit my day job.) Readers, do you have anything to add?

P.S. If you have a question you would like answered in "Dear Gertie," kindly e-mail me at gertie [at] blogforbettersewing [dot] com.

My Impressionable Mind: Annie

I've been thinking a lot lately about the movies and books that had the greatest style impressions on me when I was a wee lass. You see, I loved reading about fancy clothes and I loved seeing fancy clothes in movies, and I have a feeling this planted the seeds for a later obsession with vintage clothing. I've come to the realization, however, that my taste was perhaps a bit questionable now that I look back on it all. So I'm now on a bit of a mission to see whether my girlhood fashion influences hold up to the test of time.

So let's start by looking at Annie (1982), which is basically the greatest movie OF ALL TIME. It's set in the 1930's, but it's the 1980's version of the 1930's. It's about a spunky little redhead who gets saved from an evil orphanage by a handsome millionaire who adopts her! What's not to like, really?

I was obsessed with this movie as a youngster. I remember watching it one day and then just immediately rewinding the tape to start it all over again. That's how good it is, people. First of all, the cast is comprised of the three women that I was sure were the most glamorous in the world: Carol Burnett, Ann Reinking, and Bernadette Peters. And their wardrobes are FABULOUS. (At least that's how I remember it.)

Ann Reinking is the classy one, obvs.

OMG, how fab is she? Just look at the hat and tie. (No wonder Daddy Warbucks falls in love with her. Sigh!) I still think this is a great look, though I'm willing to accept that I am biased here.

Carol Burnett is the evil Miss Hannigan who I realize now was portrayed as a slutty, money-grubbing drunk. This did not matter to my young self, and even though I knew she was mean, I coveted her wardrobe, especially the purple dress above. I also thought that she was a fabulous accessorizer.

This high opinion of Miss Hannigan's sartorial choices explains my later obsession with glitzy costume jewelry and my conviction, to this day, that drinking gin out of a bathtub is the epitome of bohemian chic. (Yeah, that actually explains a lot.)

So, okay, perhaps my taste was in question with Miss Hannigan.

But then in comes Bernadette Peters! She's like a way classier version of Miss Hannigan, like a gun moll or something. I'll admit it, I still love the look she's rocking here.

The hat? The lipstick? Gorge!

As for the menfolk, there's no doubt that Daddy Warbucks is the dreamiest.


But Punjab gets the fanciest costume, with an elegant bejeweled turban. Punjab is obviously very, very wise.

I was soooo jealous of Annie. She got a whole new wardrobe, which included a fabulous bathing cap.

(Okay, trust me, it was WAY more fabulous in my clouded memory.)

One of the best scenes is when Annie and Ann Reinking are getting ready to go out to the movies with Daddy Warbucks. Ann Reinking dances around in her slip, and is basically the embodiment of all that is feminine and glamorous.

And the best part is that Daddy Warbucks grows to love Annie and then he falls in love with Ann Reinking and Ann Reinking is totally gonna be Annie's new mommy! The movie ends with a fabulous dance number that I'm pretty sure included elephants and all the little girls from the orphanage got pretty new dresses.

Yep, I can't deny it, this movie pretty much lives up to all the awesomeness I had imbued it with in my childhood memory.

Any other Annie lovers in the house?

Is This Love that I'm Feeling?

Good lord, what is happening to me? This pattern is totally not my usual style and yet . . . I WANT it. It caught my eye on Etsy early yesterday, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I think it's fantastic, especially with the Annie Hall styling on the left. (Fun fact: this pattern was released 5 years before the movie was.)

Perhaps this pattern crush means I secretly long to return to my roots as a child of the 70's. Some fashion elements of that decade certainly appeal to me: the tie-neck blouses, pleated skirts, dolman sleeves, the narrow-shouldered jackets. Then again, there are many more that definitely do not appeal to me: polyester, disco wear, caftans, maxi dresses, and bell bottoms, to name just a few.

But there's probably a bit more to my obsession with this pattern than that: I also find myself filled with an overwhelming sense of giddiness at trying a style so far out of my comfort zone. Do you know what I mean? I think it's kind of like imagining oneself with a completely different haircut: that soaring feeling that maybe there's a new, more fabulous version of yourself just waiting to be revealed. But then you chop off all your hair and realize that you're just the same person with a different haircut. And it dawns on you just how large your derriere will look in a pair of 70's-style trousers, even though you know you shouldn't say those things because you're trying to set an example of being more body-positive. Wherever you go, there you are, eh?

I still do have a tiny yearning desire to have this pattern in my collection. Sadly, I can't find it in my size and I'm not about to try grading this one, especially when I'm not sure I'd make it anyway. So, if you are a 32-1/2 inch bust and want to dazzle the world with your devastatingly glamorous Annie Hall look, please buy this pattern. Come on. Do it for me.