Make a 1930s evening dress in 2 days

I recently made a 1930s style evening dress by drastically altering something that is fairly easy to find in most thrift shops - a 1970s maxi-dress.

Below is a full account of the transformation from '70s to '30s, and step-by-step instructions of how I did it in two days using fairly basic home sewing techniques.

First, the backstory

About a year ago I bought a 1970s maxi-dress at a thrift store (for a whopping $30 - more than I normally spend!) mainly because I liked the pretty blue floral fabric and the floaty cape around the neckline, and I figured I could 'do something with it' at some stage.

Oh the 1970s... this is pretty much what
my original dress looked like. Except blue.

No fairy godmother - I'll have to make it myself!

Fast-forward to a few days ago when I was hunting around for something dressy to wear to a vintage formal ball, and I found the forgotton maxi-dress in the back of my closet.

I decided to quickly alter the dress to make it less 1970s and more swing era style. I didn't want to spend a lot of time on it, so I figured I would nip the dress in at the waist (it was a bit loose on me, probably 1-2 sizes too big) and hem it just below the knee. Easy-peasy. Except I screwed it up.

The nipping in at the waist went fine - I took in the side seams and when that wasn't quite enough I chucked a couple of darts in the back on either side of the zipper. Then on to the hemming.

The dress is lined so first I chopped the lining off around knee-length and hemmed that so it was above the knee and wouldn't show below the dress hem. Then I measured the chopped off the dress fabric - allowing extra so that when I turned it up and hemmed it, the final hemline would sit just below the knee.

But somehow I managed to totally screw up my measurements and after I chopped the dress and tried it on again, to my horror the unhemmed length was already sitting above my knee.

Crap.

[Sidebar: I abhore dresses that sit above the knee - the only exception being authentic styled mid-twenties flapper dresses that are only jusssssst above the knee. I have a whole post to write on the subject of hemlines but that will have to wait for another day.]

My original plan was to leave the skirt quite full with just-below-the-knee hemline to create a 1940s look, but now I was in a pickle because I had cut the dress too short and was going to end up with a 1960s 'mod' dress instead.

I needed to sew my way out of this mess, so I started flipping through some vintage fashion reference books for inspiration, and came across these illustrations from "Fashions of the Thirties" by Carol Belanger Grafton, which gave me a novel idea on how I could salvage my sewing project and end up with something elegant and wearable.

1930s evening gown illustrations -
note the decorative 'flounces' along the bottom

I decided with a bit of creative alterations I could opt for a longer, narrower 1930s gown, using the extra material I had just chopped off the lining and dress to create a frilly flounce to add back the length I needed. Perfect! I wanted to be able to dance easily in the dress, so I opted for the classic 1930s mid-calf hem length rather than a sweeping floor-length gown.

Classic 1930s mid-calf hemline length - my new target

Now I just needed to figure out how exactly to execute my plan. It involved a lot of knitting of brows, fiddling of fabric and more than one cup of tea. But I made it in the end, and was really pleased with the results (considering my sewing skills are not what you'd call advanced).

Below is a step-by-step account of what I did. Apologies that there are no photos of the process - I wasn't sure if any of it was going to work out and didn't think to take photos along the way. I've included some simple diagrams and anyone with average home sewing skills and a little creativity should be able to give it a whirl.


Instructions for sewing your own 1930s style 'flounce' dress

1. Get hold of a maxi-dress from a thrift store. Choose one of a suitable fabric colour and pattern that doesn't scream '1970s'. Look for soft, muted colours and/or dainty floral patterns. Think ultra feminine and elegant. Chiffony-floaty fabric is good, not anything too heavy or coarse.

The top part of my dress was fine as is, with a nice 1930s style cape effect, so I didn't make any changes to the top. Look for a dress that is fine in the top area but just needs altering from the waist down. Also make sure it is easily take-in-able along the seams. My dress had 4 seams - 2 side, one front and one back - running the entire length of the dress.

2. Take the dress in at the waist if need be. You want it fitted throughout the waist and hips. I did this by taking in the side seams first, and when that wasn't enough I pinched and sewed a couple of vertical darts from the shoulder blade to the top of the hip, placed either side of the back zip. This nipped it in enough in the mid-section to have a nicely defined waist.

3. Cut the dress to length. I cut mine so the new unfinished hemline was sitting just above my kneecap. My ultimate goal was to end up with a classic 1930s mid-calf length dress (rather than floor length) because it would be easier to dance in. However, if you want to go for a more formal floor-length number, follow the same instructions but cut the dress a little lower. Bear in mind the lower you cut the dress, the shorter your decorative frill bit will be (unless you do it in a different fabric and don't rely on only using fabric from the original dress itself).


4. Hem the lining, if there is one, and the dress itself to finish the raw edge and stop fraying. I did a standard hem on the lining - turn it up a couple of centimetres, press, turn it up again and sew. Then I did a narrow rolled him on the dress material, leaving as much length as I could.

5. Now you've got a dress that's fitted through the waist/hips and hemmed around knee-height.

6. Take in the extra girth of the full skirt to create a narrow skirt style. To get the 1930s fishtail look from the flounce, you need the circumference of the flounce to be much greater than the circumference of the hem you're attaching it to, so you need to take as much from the current dress as possible, which also gives it a nice narrow 1930s silhouette.

My dress had 4 vertical seams, so I started by taking in the side seams from the hips down - I probably took in around 7-8 cm per side - it was quite a lot. I then took a little (2-3cm perhaps) out of the centre back seam, starting just below the buttocks, as this also has the effect of pulling the back of the dress in and making it more figure-hugging. I then took in a small amount of the front seam as well.
Now you should have a hemmed, knee-length (or thereabouts) dress with a narrow, figure-hugging style. Now we need to attach the flounce to the bottom to create a longer dress with a cool fishtail look.

7. If the dress was lined and you have the extra lining cut off in step 3, you can opt to add an extra detail to the top of the flounce. This step is optional. If you like you can just skip to step 8.

I found it a bit fiddly but I like the look it gave at the end. Essentially what I did was sew a strip of the ruffled lining back onto the dress at the hemline, then sewed the main flounce overtop, leaving 2cm of the lining material sticking out at the top.

So - first cut a strip of the lining (or other) material to about 8-10 cm and, double it over and press it. Pin the strip to the bottom of the dress so it sticks up about 2 cm from there the final flounce will eventually be attached. The strip of lining/material should be larger in circumference than the dress hem. Pin it at the sides and front/back so it is evenly distributed around the hemline. I then worked on a quarter section at a time to gather the material into ruffles and sew it in place, but if you're keen you could do it all in one go.

Using a needle and thread I ran a length of long stiches along each section and then used the ends of the thread to pull in the material and form even gathers (as you would for gathered sleeves, etc.) Once I had nice even gathers I put a few pins in to hold them in place and ran over them with the sewing machine to sew them in place.

Close-up of flounce with pleats and 'ribbon' detailing
made from the extra lining material. Click image for larger view.

(Note a bit of puckering on the vertical rear seam -
probably due to my less-than-steller sewing technique.)

8. Attaching the 'flounce'. You'll use the bit you cut off the bottom of the dress and stick it back on as a decorative flounce. First, do a rolled hem on the raw cut edge of the fabric to give it a nice finish, as this edge will be visible.

Next, pin the flounce to the dress at the front center, back center and side seams. Once again, because you've drastically taken in the original dress, the circumference of the flounce should now be greater than the dress hem and it should be 'too big' to pin on flat, i.e. when pinned at the front, sides and back the rest of the material should droop down because it's too big to fit around neatly.

The idea is to take up the extra circumference when you sew the flounce on. I did this by making pleats (but you could do ruffles like we just did for the decorative lining bit in the previous step).

How many pleats and where you put them is up to you. I put three in the front and three in the back, at the front and back centre seams and in-between the front/back centre seams and the side seams.

I did reverse pleats, but really you can do whatever you like. The idea is to just nicely gather the excess baggage along the current hemline so that the flounce fishtails out from a small circle to a large circle when you're done.

I pinned the flounce in place (including pinning the pleats where I wanted them), then topstitched all the way around, just below the rolled hem.

et voila! A very cute 1930s style frock, ready to wear to the ball!

The finished dress, front and back.
It was highly dance-able at the ball and
got lots of compliments - mission accomplished!

If anyone else out there is inspired enough to have a go, has suggestions and/or has their own alteration techniques to share, do drop me a line at sharonblance@gmail.com. Send photos!

Jive Talk! Cab Calloway's hepcat slang

"Oh stewardess, I speak jive!"
My favourite scenes from the classic movie 'Airplane'

Tired of sounding like a square? Keen to talk like a real swingin' hepcat? Take some lessons from the ultimate hipster, Mr Cab Calloway.

I think Cab Calloway has got to be one of the heppest cats that ever lived. The guy just oooooozed coolness from every pore, and he invented his own unique 'hepster' lingo.

See how many Cab-isms you recognise - and how many you can pull off the next time you're 'sliding your jib'...

Musical instruments

Guitar: Git Box or Belly-Fiddle
Upright Bass: Doghouse
Drums: Suitcase, Hides, or Skins
Piano: Storehouse or Ivories
Saxophone: Plumbing or Reeds
Trombone: Tram or Slush-Pump
Clarinet: Licorice Stick or Gob Stick
Xylophone: Woodpile
Vibraphone: Ironworks
Violin: Squeak-Box
Accordion: Squeeze-Box or Groan-Box
Tuba: Foghorn
Electric Organ: Spark Jiver

Jive talk words and phrases

A hummer (n.): exceptionally good. Ex., “Man, that boy is a hummer.”
Ain’t coming on that tab (v.): won’t accept the proposition. Usually abbr. to “I ain’t coming.”
Alligator (n.): jitterbug
Apple (n.): the big town, the main stem, Harlem.
Armstrongs (n.): musical notes in the upper register, high trumpet notes.

Barbecue (n.): the girl friend, a beauty
Barrelhouse (adj.): free and easy.
Battle (n.): a very homely girl, a crone.
Beat (adj.): (1) tired, exhausted. Ex., “You look beat” or “I feel beat.” (2) lacking anything. Ex, “I am beat for my cash”, “I am beat to my socks” (lacking everything).
Beat it out (v.): play it hot, emphasize the rhythm.
Beat up (adj.): sad, uncomplimentary, tired.
Beat up the chops (or the gums) (v.): to talk, converse, be loquacious.
Beef (v.): to say, to state. Ex., “He beefed to me that, etc.”
Bible (n.): the gospel truth. Ex., “It’s the bible!”
Black (n.): night.
Black and tan (n.): dark and light colored folks (not colored and white folks)
Blew their wigs (adj.): excited with enthusiasm, gone crazy.
Blip (n.): something very good. Ex., “That’s a blip”; “She’s a blip.”
Blow the top (v.): to be overcome with emotion (delight). Ex., “You’ll blow your top when you hear this one.”
Boogie-woogie (n.): harmony with accented bass.
Boot (v.): to give. Ex., “Boot me that glove.”
Break it up (v.): to win applause, to stop the show.
Bree (n.): girl.
Bright (n.): day.
Brightnin’ (n.): daybreak.
Bring down ((1) n. (2) v.): (1) something depressing. Ex., “That’s a bring down.” (2) Ex., “That brings me down.”
Buddy ghee (n.): fellow.
Bust your conk (v.): apply yourself diligently, break your neck.

Canary (n.): girl vocalist
Capped (v.): outdone, surpassed
Cat (n.): musician in swing band.
Chick (n.): girl.
Chime (n.): hour. Ex., “I got in at six chimes.”
Clambake (n.): ad lib session, every man for himself, a jam session not in the groove.
Chirp (n.): female singer.
Cogs (n.): sunglasses.
Collar (v.): to get, to obtain, to comprehend. Ex., “I gotta collar me some food”; “Do you collar this jive?”
Come again (v.): try it over, do better than you are doing, I don’t understand you.
Comes on like gangbusters (or like test pilot) (v.): plays, sings, or dances in a terrific manner, par excellence in any department. Sometimes abbr. to “That singer really comes on!”
Cop (v.): to get, to obtain (see collar; knock).
Corny (adj.): old-fashioned, stale.
Creeps out like the shadow (v.): “comes on,” but in smooth, suave, sophisticated manner.
Crumb crushers (n.): teeth.
Cubby (n.): room, flat, home.
Cups (n.): sleep. Ex., “I gotta catch some cups.”
Cut out (v.): to leave, to depart. Ex., “It’s time to cut out”; “I cut out from the joint in early bright.”
Cut rate (n.): a low, cheap person. Ex., “Don’t play me cut rate, Jack!”

Dicty (adj.): high-class, nifty, smart.
Dig (v.): (1) meet. Ex., “I’ll plant you now and dig you later.” (2) look, see. Ex., “Dig the chick on your left duke.” (3) comprehend, understand. Ex., “Do you dig this jive?”
Dim (n.): evening.
Dime note (n.): ten-dollar bill.
Doghouse (n.): bass fiddle.
Domi (n.): ordinary place to live in. Ex., “I live in a righteous domi.”
Doss (n.): sleep. Ex., “I’m a little beat for my doss.”
Down with it (adj.): through with it.
Drape (n.): suit of clothes, dress, costume.
Dreamers (n.): bed covers, blankets.
Dry-goods (n.): same as drape.
Duke (n.): hand, mitt.
Dutchess (n.): girl.

Early black (n.): evening
Early bright (n.): morning.
Evil (adj.): in ill humor, in a nasty temper.

Fall out (v.): to be overcome with emotion. Ex., “The cats fell out when he took that solo.”
Fews and two (n.): money or cash in small quantity.
Final (v.): to leave, to go home. Ex., “I finaled to my pad” (went to bed); “We copped a final” (went home).
Fine dinner (n.): a good-looking girl.
Focus (v.): to look, to see.
Foxy (v.): shrewd.
Frame (n.): the body.
Fraughty issue (n.): a very sad message, a deplorable state of affairs.
Freeby (n.): no charge, gratis. Ex., “The meal was a freeby.”
Frisking the whiskers (v.): what the cats do when they are warming up for a swing session.
Frolic pad (n.): place of entertainment, theater, nightclub.
Fromby (adj.): a frompy queen is a battle or faust.
Front (n.): a suit of clothes.
Fruiting (v.): fickle, fooling around with no particular object.
Fry (v.): to go to get hair straightened.

Gabriels (n.): trumpet players.
Gammin’ (adj.): showing off, flirtatious.
Gasser (n, adj.): sensational. Ex., “When it comes to dancing, she’s a gasser.”
Gate (n.): a male person (a salutation), abbr. for “gate-mouth.”
Get in there (exclamation.): go to work, get busy, make it hot, give all you’ve got.
Gimme some skin (v.): shake hands.
Glims (n.): the eyes.
Got your boots on: you know what it is all about, you are a hep cat, you are wise.
Got your glasses on: you are ritzy or snooty, you fail to recognize your friends, you are up-stage.
Gravy (n.): profits.
Grease (v.): to eat.
Groovy (adj.): fine. Ex., “I feel groovy.”
Ground grippers (n.): new shoes.
Growl (n.): vibrant notes from a trumpet.
Gut-bucket (adj.): low-down music.
Guzzlin’ foam (v.): drinking beer.

Hard (adj.): fine, good. Ex., “That’s a hard tie you’re wearing.”
Hard spiel (n.): interesting line of talk.
Have a ball (v.): to enjoy yourself, stage a celebration. Ex., “I had myself a ball last night.”
Hep cat (n.): a guy who knows all the answers, understands jive.
Hide-beater (n.): a drummer (see skin-beater).
Hincty (adj.): conceited, snooty.
Hip (adj.): wise, sophisticated, anyone with boots on. Ex., “She’s a hip chick.”
Home-cooking (n.): something very dinner (see fine dinner).
Hot (adj.): musically torrid; before swing, tunes were hot or bands were hot.
Hype (n, v.): build up for a loan, wooing a girl, persuasive talk.

Icky (n.): one who is not hip, a stupid person, can’t collar the jive.
Igg (v.): to ignore someone. Ex., “Don’t igg me!)
In the groove (adj.): perfect, no deviation, down the alley.

Jack (n.): name for all male friends (see gate; pops).
Jam ((1)n, (2)v.): (1) improvised swing music. Ex., “That’s swell jam.” (2) to play such music. Ex., “That cat surely can jam.”
Jeff (n.): a pest, a bore, an icky.
Jelly (n.): anything free, on the house.
Jitterbug (n.): a swing fan.
Jive (n.): Harlemese speech.
Joint is jumping: the place is lively, the club is leaping with fun.
Jumped in port (v.): arrived in town.

Kick (n.): a pocket. Ex., “I’ve got five bucks in my kick.”
Kill me (v.): show me a good time, send me.
Killer-diller (n.): a great thrill.
Knock (v.): give. Ex., “Knock me a kiss.”
Kopasetic (adj.): absolutely okay, the tops.

Lamp (v.): to see, to look at.
Land o’darkness (n.): Harlem.
Lane (n.): a male, usually a nonprofessional.
Latch on (v.): grab, take hold, get wise to.
Lay some iron (v.): to tap dance. Ex., “Jack, you really laid some iron that last show!”
Lay your racket (v.): to jive, to sell an idea, to promote a proposition.
Lead sheet (n.): a topcoat.
Left raise (n.): left side. Ex., “Dig the chick on your left raise.”
Licking the chops (v.): see frisking the whiskers.
Licks (n.): hot musical phrases.
Lily whites (n.): bed sheets.
Line (n.): cost, price, money. Ex., “What is the line on this drape” (how much does this suit cost)? “Have you got the line in the mouse” (do you have the cash in your pocket)? Also, in replying, all figures are doubled. Ex., “This drape is line forty” (this suit costs twenty dollars).
Lock up: to acquire something exclusively. Ex., “He’s got that chick locked up”; “I’m gonna lock up that deal.”

Main kick (n.): the stage.
Main on the hitch (n.): husband.
Main queen (n.): favorite girl friend, sweetheart.
Man in gray (n.): the postman.
Mash me a fin (command.): Give me $5.
Mellow (adj.): all right, fine. Ex., “That’s mellow, Jack.”
Melted out (adj.): broke.
Mess (n.): something good. Ex., “That last drink was a mess.”
Meter (n.): quarter, twenty-five cents.
Mezz (n.): anything supreme, genuine. Ex., “this is really the mezz.”
Mitt pounding (n.): applause.
Moo juice (n.): milk.
Mouse (n.): pocket. Ex., “I’ve got a meter in the mouse.”
Muggin’ (v.): making ’em laugh, putting on the jive. “Muggin’ lightly,” light staccato swing; “muggin’ heavy,” heavy staccato swing.
Murder (n.): something excellent or terrific. Ex., “That’s solid murder, gate!”

Neigho, pops: Nothing doing, pal.
Nicklette (n.): automatic phonograph, music box.
Nickel note (n.): five-dollar bill.
Nix out (v.): to eliminate, get rid of. Ex., “I nixed that chick out last week”; “I nixed my garments” (undressed).
Nod (n.): sleep. Ex., “I think I’l cop a nod.”

Ofay (n.): white person.
Off the cob (adj.): corny, out of date.
Off-time jive (n.): a sorry excuse, saying the wrong thing.
Orchestration (n.): an overcoat.
Out of the world (adj.): perfect rendition. Ex., “That sax chorus was out of the world.”
Ow!: an exclamation with varied meaning. When a beautiful chick passes by, it’s “Ow!”; and when someone pulls an awful pun, it’s also “Ow!”

Pad (n.): bed.
Pecking (n.): a dance introduced at the Cotton Club in 1937.
Peola (n.): a light person, almost white.
Pigeon (n.): a young girl.
Pops (n.): salutation for all males (see gate; Jack).
Pounders (n.): policemen.

Queen (n.): a beautiful girl.

Rank (v.): to lower.
Ready (adj.): 100 per cent in every way. Ex., “That fried chicken was ready.”
Ride (v.): to swing, to keep perfect tempo in playing or singing.
Riff (n.): hot lick, musical phrase.
Righteous (adj.): splendid, okay. Ex., “That was a righteous queen I dug you with last black.”
Rock me (v.): send me, kill me, move me with rhythm.
Ruff (n.): quarter, twenty-five cents.
Rug cutter (n.): a very good dancer, an active jitterbug.

Sad (adj.): very bad. Ex., “That was the saddest meal I ever collared.”
Sadder than a map (adj.): terrible. Ex., “That man is sadder than a map.”
Salty (adj.): angry, ill-tempered.
Sam got you: you’ve been drafted into the army.
Send (v.): to arouse the emotions. (joyful). Ex., “That sends me!”
Set of seven brights (n.): one week.
Sharp (adj.): neat, smart, tricky. Ex., “That hat is sharp as a tack.”
Signify (v.): to declare yourself, to brag, to boast.
Skins (n.): drums.
Skin-beater (n.): drummer (see hide-beater).
Sky piece (n.): hat.
Slave (v.): to work, whether arduous labor or not.
Slide your jib (v.): to talk freely.
Snatcher (n.): detective.
So help me: it’s the truth, that’s a fact.
Solid (adj.): great, swell, okay.
Sounded off (v.): began a program or conversation.
Spoutin’ (v.): talking too much.
Square (n.): an unhep person (see icky; Jeff).
Stache (v.): to file, to hide away, to secrete.
Stand one up (v.): to play one cheap, to assume one is a cut-rate.
To be stashed (v.): to stand or remain.
Susie-Q (n.): a dance introduced at the Cotton Club in 1936.

Take it slow (v.): be careful.
Take off (v.): play a solo.
The man (n.): the law.
Threads (n.): suit, dress or costume (see drape; dry-goods).
Tick (n.): minute, moment. Ex., “I’ll dig you in a few ticks.” Also, ticks are doubled in accounting time, just as money is doubled in giving “line.” Ex., “I finaled to the pad this early bright at tick twenty” (I got to bed this morning at ten o’clock).
Timber (n.): toothpick.
To dribble (v.): to stutter. Ex., “He talked in dribbles.”
Togged to the bricks: dressed to kill, from head to toe.
Too much (adj.): term of highest praise. Ex., “You are too much!”
Trickeration (n.): struttin’ your stuff, muggin’ lightly and politely.
Trilly (v.): to leave, to depart. Ex., “Well, I guess I’ll trilly.”
Truck (v.): to go somewhere. Ex., “I think I’ll truck on down to the ginmill (bar).”
Trucking (n.): a dance introduced at the Cotton Club in 1933.
Twister to the slammer (n.): the key to the door.
Two cents (n.): two dollars.

Unhep (adj.): not wise to the jive, said of an icky, a Jeff, a square.

Vine (n.): a suit of clothes.
V-8 (n.): a chick who spurns company, is independent, is not amenable.

What’s your story?: What do you want? What have you got to say for yourself? How are tricks? What excuse can you offer? Ex., “I don’t know what his story is.”
Whipped up (adj.): worn out, exhausted, beat for your everything.
Wren (n.): a chick, a queen.
Wrong riff: the wrong thing said or done. Ex., “You’re coming up on the wrong riff.”

Yarddog (n.): uncouth, badly attired, unattractive male or female.
Yeah, man: an exclamation of assent.

Zoot (adj.): exaggerated
Zoot suit (n.): the ultimate in clothes. The only totally and truly American civilian suit.

Shoo Fly Pie

"Shoo Fly Pie and Apple Pan Dowdy,
Makes your eyes light up,
Your tummy say 'Howdy!'"

I've always loved the song 'Shoo Fly Pie'. Dinah Shore had a bestselling hit with it in 1946, and I quite like the version by Ella Fitzgerald. The name of the song so intrigued me that I decided to find out what this strange sounding pie was, and how to make one.

Shoo Fly (or Shoofly) pie is a molasses pie considered traditional among the Pennsylvania Dutch and Southern cooking. Some say the pie gets its name from the need to 'shoo' flies away that are attracted to its sugary sweetness from the molasses filling. Wikipedia notes the term "shoo-fly pie" first appeared in print as early as 1926.

The early Dutch settlers brought staple food items with them on the long boat trip, including flour, brown sugar, molasses, lard, salt, and spices. Women skilled in the culinary art of 'making do' found a way to make a sweet pie from these basic pantry ingredients. Shoo Fly Pie is essentially flour, sugar and fat. In other words, it sounds delicious!

As with many classic recipes, there seem to be a huge variety of variations of how to make a Shoo Fly Pie, but there does seem to be agreement that it is best served slightly warmed with whipped cream and a cup of coffee.

Here's a recipe for Shoo Fly Pie to try. Now I just need to figure out how to made Apple Pan Dowdy!

Shoo Fly Pie

INGREDIENTS
1 unbaked 9" pie crust

1 cup flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/3 cup butter

1 cup boiling water
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 cup golden syrup
1 tsp. baking soda
1 egg, beaten

METHOD
Preheat oven to 325 F and baking sheet covered in foil (to catch any overflow) on the rack.

Mix the dry ingredients together with a pastry blender until it resembles coarse crumbs. Alternatively mix the flour, sugar and spices together, then cut in the butter with a knife and rub between your fingertips until it resembles coarse crumbs. Set aside.

Beat together the molasses, syrup and egg. Add the baking soda to the boiling water, then add to the molasses mixture and stir well. Pour molasses mixture into the piecrust.

Spoon the crumbs over the top (they will sink in). Place the pie on the baking sheet and bake for about 40 minutes or until it is set and dark brown. Serve warm with whipped cream and a cup of coffee.

For a stronger flavour you can make the pie with a full cup of molasses instead of using golden syrup.

1920s Flapper Fashion: the Cloche Hat

Even though they were worn as early as 1910 and well into the 1930s, the cloche hat is usually thought of as the iconic headwear style of the 1920s flapper period. Cloche hats went hand-in-hand with short haircuts of the times, such as the Eton Crop, and symbolized the ‘modernity’ of the wearer.

Wikipedia credits Parisian milliner Caroline Reboux as the creator of the cloche hat. Whether she invented it or not, she certainly helped make it hugely popular in the 1920s. Reboux would create her cloche hats by placing a length of felt on a customer's head and then cutting and folding it to shape.

The basic shape of a cloche hat is a form-fitting bell shape. They hug the head but can have a bulging crown, so as to add height to the wearer. Cloches were worn pulled low over the forehead so the wearer’s eyes ‘peeked out’ from just below the brim.

Actress Vilma Banky in a cloche hat

Angelina Jolie sporting a cloche for her role in
The Changeling, set in the late '20s

Cloche hats are relatively simple in construction and were easily mass produced, commonly made of felt, as this material conforms well to the head-hugging shape.

Decorations on cloche hats were usually minimal and often Art Deco (geometrical) in style. Decorations took the form of surface appliqués or other ‘flat’ items like feathers, ribbons or art deco jeweled clips, that did not alter the distinctive bell shape of the hat. The decorations were usually asymmetrical – that is, appearing on one side of the hat only.


Brimless cloche hats were also fashionable.

The huge popularity of cloche hats in the 1920s is part of the major shift in women's fashion that was occurring as women started to wear more casual, loose clothing rather than formal and physically restrictive clothes. Cloche hats are low-effort, practical yet stylish – part of the statement of the new ‘modern’ flapper of the 1920s.

Cloche hats were initially seen as a ‘shocking’ and even scandalous fashion statement, but once they become more accepted and commonplace they symbolized feminine style and refinement.

Norma Shearer in Vanity Fair magazine, 1926

Cloche style hats suit just about anyone, and can be purchased today from numerous stores and designers. There's a fancy hat shop in the town where I live and I'd venture to say at least 50% of their women's hats are based on the classic cloche shape. Fashions are fleeting, but style is forever!

Modern-day cloche hat, by Etsy seller Boring Sidney

Keen to make a cloche hat yourself? You can purchase a pattern
to create this stylish cloche from Etsy seller McHats

Hot Dogs and Red Hots

My father Henry was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1930 at the beginning of the Great Depression. Now, over three-quarters of a century later he has written a number of recollections of his childhood in America during the 1930s and 1940s. This is one of my favorites.

Hot Dogs and Red Hots
by Henry Speer

One of Tulsa’s two newspapers was the Tulsa World, which is still located on the East Side of Bolder Avenue between Third and Forth streets. The Coney Island Sandwich Shop was just next door. I remember when I was about five or six years old that we would sometimes get a bag of hot dogs for supper. I would drive down town with my dad in his ’33 Chevy to carry back the hot dogs in their brown paper bag.

Black people ran the Coney Island Sandwich Shop. Unfortunately, in those times, and in that place, always referred to as 'niggers'. Anyway, one of their specialties was hot dogs. These were the only hot dogs that I had experienced and I naturally assumed that all hot dogs were the same as these. They were really great hot dogs.

When you went into the shop there was a large grille right at the front looking out onto Bolder Street through the shop window. On the grille, neatly arranged in rows, were the wieners being grilled. Lined up with the wieners were the hot dog buns being toasted. On a side counter there was a large pot of chili and a huge bowl of chopped onions. You placed your order and one of the men behind the counter filled it. He put a grilled wiener into a toasted bun, spooned on a liberal amount of chili, and topped it off with chopped onions. Each hot dog was then wrapped in a sheet of thin, waterproof tissue paper. The entire order was neatly packed into a brown paper bag – all of this for a cost of only 5 cents each. So, for fifty cents we would get a bag of 10 hot dogs. This was a great supper for the four of us: mom, dad, sis, and I.

In the spring of 1945, when I was 14, we moved to San Francisco, California. World War Two was still going strong and, what with all of the service men about, San Francisco was a very lively place. Tulsa was the second largest city in Oklahoma and, in population, was close to the size of San Francisco. However, there was a world of difference between the two. Tulsa was a rather conservative place with a large fundamentalist religious population. San Francisco was a wide open, exciting city to a boy from Oklahoma.

One day I was in downtown San Francisco wandering about and taking in the sights. There were several movie theaters along Market Street and I was deciding which movie I wanted to see. I happened to wander past one of the many open front street shops and saw a sign with a picture of a wiener in a hot dog bun. It had a caption in big red letters saying "RED HOTS - 25 cents".

Well, I thought that was rather a lot to pay for a hot dog but perhaps that was the going rate in San Francisco. I was hungry and didn’t want to sit through a movie with only a bag of popcorn to satisfy me. So I stepped up to the counter and ordered a red hot. I handed the man my 25 cents and he flipped open the top of a steam cabinet and pulled out a hot dog bun. Then he lifted the lid of a big kettle of boiling water and fished out a wiener. He slapped the soggy wiener between the soggy bun and handed it to me.

I took it from him and asked, “Where’s the chili and onions?”

Of course, I had a strong Oklahoma twang and he looked at me with a scowl on his face, probably thinking 'Stupid Okie'.

“What chili? We don’t got no chili kid. There’s mustard and ketchup over there.” he said, pointing to a side counter. I dabbed a little mustard on the soggy affair and walked out onto Market Street.

That was my introduction to a San Francisco hot dog, ugh. Twenty five cents would have bought me five really good, proper, hot dogs in Tulsa!

Many, many years later chili dogs, as they were called, became a popular item with hot dog venders in San Francisco and New York. But I remember that in Tulsa, in the 1930’s at the Coney Island Sandwich Shop on Bolder Street we were eating proper chili dogs, and for only a nickel.

Gorgeous 1930s Art Deco Dresses

I came across some gorgeous 1930s dresses on thefrock.com and wanted to share my favourites...

Black satin Art Deco dress, from thefrock.com

This art deco number has a fabulous vintage geometric pattern and a lovely handkerchief hem (I need to learn how to sew like this!) The annotation on thefrock.com website says it's a "flapper era dress" but I would bet money that it's from the 1930s, not the 1920s, judging from the waistline. I wish there was a photo of the back, but if I was designing it I'd have a low-cut '30s style back design.

Meanwhile, check out this blue velvet starlet number:

Blue bias-cut velvet gown with silk bodice, from thefrock.com

It looks stunning, and it's a fairly simple design. I saw some gorgeous blue velvet on sale at the fabric store last week - now I'm tempted to go buy some and try to make this dress!

Finally, here's a gown that would be amazing to wear (though lord knows where).

Beaded charmeuse gown, from thefrock.com

Book Review: Jazz Age Beauties - the lost collection of Ziegfeld photographer Alfred Cheney Johnston, by Robert Hudovernik

I'm a freelance photographer as well as an aficionado of all things 1920s, and when I came across this book on Amazon I fell in love with it just from the stunning cover photo.

It's a hardcover book of the work of celebrated 1920s New York portrait photographer Alfred Cheney Johnston, made famous from being the official photographer of the (often notorious) Ziegfeld Follies girls. I ordered it right away, and it's taken pride of place on my 'vintage-related' bookshelf.

At first glance, the book is utterly beautiful. Hardcover and 271 pages, it's a decent coffee-table size volume.

Twenty-one pages of text appear in the front of the book, including a foreward by Julie Newmar - that's right, of Batman 1966 'Catwoman' fame. (Her mother Helen Jesmer was a dancer in the Follies in 1919 and had been photographed by Johnston. Three decades later she took Julie to be photographed by Johnston as well.)

The text is well-researched and gives a good overview of Johnston's life and work, concentrating on his heyday in the 1920s working with Florenz Ziegfield to be the official 'beauty' photographer of the Ziegfeld Follies girls. Additional information in the back of the book give more details about Johnston's advertising work, his studio set up and methods, as well ad a timeline of magazine covers he photographed.

But the main content of the book is Johnston's photography. The photographs are divided into three chapters or 'Galleries':

1. The Stars
2. The Secret Nudes
3. Advertising images

The Stars contains portraits of Follies showgirls as well as actresses and other celebs of the day, including Gloria Swanson, Norma Shearer and Louise Brooks. His images have a wonderful ethereal quality to them, a mystery and beauty that is so often absent from portraiture these days.

Follies girl Jean Ackerman

Actress Marjorie King

The Secret Nudes alludes to a collection of nude photographs in boxes marked "Private" discovered in his estate after his death. Far from being lewd or tawdry, however, the nude photographs encapsulate just as much grace and beauty as Johnston's other work.

Unknown nude

Originally trained as a painter, Johnston studied artistic principles such as the "Line of Beauty" and had a stunning eye for composition, which is clearly evident in his pictures - they do, in fact, look like ethereal paintings, composed and lit to perfection.

Johnston's artistic training and eye for composition is clearly evident

The (few) advertising images show his commercial work, for products such as soaps, beauty powders and cigarettes. Again, Johnston's timeless style is present, wrapping the products in a timeless, classic and poised sense of beauty.

The only let-down of the book is that some of the images reproduced are at too low a resolution, and contain unacceptable levels image noise and compression artifacts (jpg 'jaggies'). I think this is a real shame in an otherwise gorgeous volume. I can't understand why better scans weren't obtained or, if that was impossible, why the lower resolution pictures weren't printed at smaller sizes - a smaller image is preferable to a full-bleed picture that has lost too much image quality.

Thankfully it's only a minority of images that suffer from these reproduction issues, and overall the book is gorgeous. If you're a fan of the 1920s or just extremely well-executed portrait photography, I highly recommend this book for your coffee table.

1930s Formal Wear Wardrobe Tips: PDF versions available to download

Last year I posted images of 1930s Formal Wear Wardrobe tips for men and women in the form of single page info sheets I created for a 1930s themed event.


You can now download PDF copies of the 1930s wardrobe tip sheets for your own personal use and reference. I've amended the original post with the links and will include them here also.

The tip sheets are a great resource for anyone throwing a 'silver screen' style 1930s party - you could even send copies out to the guests to help them put together their costumes.

I'll be doing more vintage wardrobe tip sheets in future, covering aspects of 1920s and 1940s fashion as well, so stay tuned.

Download 1930s Formal Wear Wardrobe Tips for Women info sheet (PDF)
Download 1930s Formal Wear Wardrobe Tips for Men info sheet (PDF)

Modern 1930s fashion: Kate Moss in Vogue magazine

Here's a great example of a modern take on 1930s silver screen glamour - it's Kate Moss as featured in Vogue (UK) magazine, December 2007.

I'm not a huge fan of the chunky necklace and ring and would have opted for more of an art deco diamonds look, and the dress is just a tad too low-cut/high-cut for my tastes - if I were designing this gown the V of the neckline would end between the breasts rather than at the waist, and the slit in the skirt would stop just above the knee. I love the colour and drape of the fabric, and all the other accessories work well.

Overall the whole outfit really captures the look of a sultry, sexy 1930s screen siren. Hats off to Kate for helping to bring vintage glamour back in style!