Our Vintage Baby

Last year when our eldest daughter, Evie, told us that she and her husband Zack were expecting a baby we were all thrilled. This would be our first grandchild, the second for Zack's parents. My mind immediately turned to the all important task of baby knitting.

Evie and Zack decided that they did not want to know the sex of their baby before it was born. As Zack said, there are not that many important good surprises in life so he didn't want to give up this one. Evie was adamant that she wanted traditional baby clothes. She loves vintage. She particularly dislikes the modern fashion for dressing babies like mini adults, particularly dressing them in jeans. When you come to think of it, jeans must be so uncomfortable for a little baby. I started rummaging in my massive vintage pattern collection for likely items.

Very old books from the 1920s and earlier have delightful baby patterns. However, I decided to pass up "Baby's second set of stays", knitted binders, pilchers and vests. See my post on Ella Allan's delightful books. In Australia at least, it does not get cold enough to dress a baby in four layers of wool. The SIDS people would tell us we were overdoing it, too. However, there are some delightful patterns in these very old books.

Here is some beautiful antique baby knitting I found on Pinterest.

This set, with detachable sleeves, is from the 1850s and appears to be in remarkably good condition. It has been beaded all over. I have only recently seen instructions for beaded knitting but have not yet tried it. You slip the stitch off the needle and hook it through the centre of the bead with a tiny crochet hook, then slip it back onto the needle and knit it. Ingenious. However, although they seem secure, I do not like the idea of beads for babies. This set was probably knitted in silk.

There was nothing for it, I had to knit two baby ensembles, one for a girl and one for a boy. My partner Geoff couldn't understand why I was doing this, and said he couldn't see why we couldn't put a dress on a baby boy. OK, I know they dressed small boys in dresses until early last century, but it wasn't going to happen for any potential grandson of mine. 

 This little cherub looks very smart. Walter, by the way, was the surname of the photographer, not the name of the boy.

The image above, taken in 1870, is also a boy. Note his military style hat!

I really wanted to make a lacy dress so I chose this pattern from an Eve Lyn book from the 1940s.

I have mentioned Evelyn Bellamy's books in an earlier post. They are delightful. I had bought a pile of 2 ply baby wool on special so I chose this 2 ply pattern:

I made the dress, jacket, bonnet and bootees. Vintage patterns can be tricky to follow. They often assume a lot of knowledge on the part of the knitter. This lacy pattern was certainly tricky and I had to pull it undone a few times, which is really annoying when you have 141 tiny stitches. My mother added her special touch with some "grub roses".

Here it is: 

And some close ups:

That lacy pattern really did my head in, but it turned out beautiful. Now for a boy's outfit. I checked with the expectant mother and she enthusiastically gave her approval to this other Eve Lyn pattern:

I had always wanted to try knitted "smocking" so I gave this a go. Evie's grandmother is a talented embroiderer and particularly loves smocking. I put in an order for smocked rompers. My mother was sceptical, saying "She won't put those on him these days". Evie said she most definitely would but my mother is not convinced. Here is my knitted set for a boy:

My mother contributed her bit with the embroidered bees across the yoke. Here is a close up:

And the jacket - shortened from the coat in the pattern:

Just when I thought I was finished, I was sewing it up and referred to the making up instructions because I hadn't much experience attaching collars. I know, you should always read the recipe right through before you start cooking, but of course I hadn't. The instructions said "Work over the smocking in silk." What the heck does that mean? I decided to skip it. They also said "Work a row of chain stitch above the smocking in wool." I decided I was too lazy and would skip that too. However, "Work a picot edge in crochet around the edge of the collar and cuff ruffles" had to be done, but how? I'd done it years ago but had forgotten. I managed to work out something that looked acceptable.

So, which one gets gifted and which gets archived?

 Henry was born on 27th March. He is the most gorgeous little boy imaginable, with a mass of black hair (and a voracious appetite!). Here he is:

So, the little dress and layette will have to be archived. Wrapped up in tissue paper and some how moth proofed. I'm thinking cedar balls. Can I trust them? It would be a tragedy to find moth holes when a grand daughter arrives one day. The little romper set is a bit big yet. It will probably fit Henry when it's the middle of winter here, so my mother bought him some leggings to go underneath, for the Elizabethan look!

And to finish off, Easter.
I saw this pattern on Craftsy and I couldn't resist it. I put it with the little faun I crocheted him for Easter:

Maybe I'll make something for myself now...but maybe not.

Thank you, Miss Beers

Miss Beers was an elderly lady who lived next door to my grandfather and his partner in Muir Street, Richmond, Melbourne, for many years. Pop and Mona were very friendly with Miss Beers, although I'm not convinced that they actually knew her first name. Certainly, nobody else in our family ever heard of Miss Beers having a given name. Miss Beers apparently never married and had no family, and when she died in the 1980s at more than 90 years of age, quite a few of her belongings ended up in the hands of my grandfather. Some of these have made their way to me over the years.

In the '80s Pop gave me Miss Beers' furs. He was very determined that they went to me, I don't know why. Maybe he was just thinking that I liked old fashioned things. Maybe he even thought I was fashionable! Now, you need to know that no way can I do fur. I think it looks wonderful in vintage fashion shots, but even better on the animals. I can't touch it, and I can't help thinking about how the poor animals need their fur a lot more than I do. In a little suitcase were a short red fox shoulder length evening cape with stand up collar, a lynx pelt with a paw at each end (shudder!) which was probably meant as a trim for a coat collar, and two long fox stoles complete with heads, glass eyes and paws (double shudder). I put the suitcase up through the manhole into the ceiling cavity, and after my grandfather passed away, I gave it to the op shop. Sorry, Miss Beers.

One of the few things I know about Miss Beers is that she had some kind of connection with Helena Rubinstein. I don't know whether she was a friend, a business associate or an employee, but she reputedly had much Rubinstein paraphernalia in her house. My mother and cousin remember a lot of beauty products and make-up cases in the house, and they remember my grandfather talking about a connection. Helena Rubinstein opened her first beauty salon in Melbourne in 1902. Her London and Paris stores were opened in 1908 and the New York store in 1916, according to the Australian Dictionary of Biography. Miss Beers was reportedly in her 90s when she died in the 1980s, so I'm guessing she was probably born in the 1890s. She would have been far too young to have been a contemporary of Rubinstein's (who was born about 1870) although she certainly may have come to know her later. One of the items that has made its way to me is a hand towel from Helena Rubinstein's salon. It is signed "Helena Rubinstein" in what appears to be the lady's hand.

 I can only imagine Rubinstein marking her own laundry by hand in her early shop in Melbourne. It appears to be a personal signature rather than a shop name printed by an employee. I wonder whether Miss Beers may have worked in this inaugural salon. She would have been a teenager during the early years of that shop, so the dates fit. I would love to know more about this connection, but probably never will.

Pop also gave me some of Miss Beers' clothes. There were three 1940s blouses, which I wore quite a bit many years ago, but I threw them away when they became discoloured with age. I also have a beaded dress from the 1940s, which I have always wanted to wear, and keep promising myself that I will as soon as I lose a kilo or two (or more like five, now).

Here I have the dress pinned onto the front of the model because it is too small to go on. There is no zipper, and it is not stretch fabric. 

Even now I can't bring myself to put this dress into my shop because I love it, even though I never wear it.

Mum has given me other of Miss Beer's bits and pieces over the years, such as these:

I love the little tin for the boot buttons. The beading needles are in a tiny packet. There are ten packs of needles bundled up here, each set wrapped in black paper, I think to prevent rusting. I wouldn't dream of opening them.

Yesterday, Mum gave me Miss Beers' sewing basket.

Inside is a little treasure trove in miniature. Here is what I found:

An assortment of bits of vintage lace:

A selection of old wooden cotton reels, mostly of silk thread.

Here is my favourite:

An assortment of tools and bits and pieces:

Clockwise from left- fancy braid, a travelling sewing kit, a wooden needle case,  a rug hook, a boot hook for hooking your boot buttons, a tape measure, thimble,  plastic buckle for a school dress, large 1940s button,  a man's mother of pearl collar button and a length of beads.

My favourites are the travelling sewing kit and the mother of pearl button, though I love the big button too. 

This little plastic kit is a hollow tube in which to store your needles The outside doubles as your cotton reels. It is less than 2 inches long.

This button is for buttoning on a man's detachable collar, it works a bit like a cuff-link.

Here is the biggest surprise in the basket. A scrunched up, raggy bit of fabric:

I was nearly going to throw this away, when I thought "I wonder what this is?" So I ironed it. Look what it was.

This absolutely gorgeous lace is extremely old, I would guess it's from the 19th century. It's only about 1/2 cm wide and is threaded with the tiniest ribbon, only a mm or so wide.

Mum still has lots of Miss Beers' other things. Maybe that will be another chapter. 

How I wish I knew who she was.

Flora Klickmann - Domestic Doyenne and Queen of the Needle

Amongst my burgeoning collection of vintage knitting, crochet and needlework books are three treasured volumes by Flora Klickmann. I had never heard of her before purchasing one of her books on ebay recently, but her books are wonderful for anybody interested in vintage linens and how they were made.

Wikipedia gave me the following information about her.
She was an English writer, journalist and editor, for many years editor of "The Girl's Own and Woman's Magazine".

 She also published popular novels for women and girls, such as the "Flower Patch" books. She edited many books on needlework published between 1900 and 1920.

The first book I purchased was this little gem, "The Little Girl's Sewing Book":

This delightful little book was published in 1915, and as the title suggests, it is an introduction to sewing aimed at small girls. It is full of simple instructions for gifts and dolls' clothes. Many of today's adults would be challenged by skills which even small girls were expected to have in Edwardian times.

As a bonus, it features beautiful pen and ink illustrations, although the illustrator is given no credit, probably an artist doing hackwork for the magazine.





As well as instructions and patterns there is also plenty of covert moralising going on in this book, as was the custom in those days. Klickmann included  little poems she wrote for the edification of her readers:

Here are some of the adorable dolls' clothes she gives instructions for:

And their owner

This book has been republished and there are quite a few copies for sale on ebay international, though I have yet to see another original edition.









This book got me interested in Klickmann and I started searching for her other books. As well as her novels, I have found a few other original editions of her needlework books. So far, I have acquired "The Home Art Book Of Fancy Stitchery" and "The Modern Crochet Book".

You have to love the Victorians and the Edwardians for their ability to create an interminable subtitle.

If you ever wondered what to do with all those old hankies now that you use tissues, here are some ideas:

I was awestruck by the suggestions for chemise trims. Much of this lace would have been made by gaslight or candlelight. My eyes struggle with the brightest electric light, and that's just for knitting! It's also amazing for us today to think of the time and effort that people put into making everyday items beautiful. Today, we buy it machine made and throw it away when it needs the simplest mending (not me, I have an enormous mending pile, it's a bit like a Black Hole, items disappear into it, never to be seen again - Not quite, they do eventually surface for a new lease on life, albeit months later).

The ads in these old books are particularly entertaining and charming. Here are two of my favourites from Ardern's Crochet Cotton:

And I think that what was originally meant by a "brassiere" is not what we would mean today:

 Surely, they would not do all this beautiful fine work and then hide it on their underwear?

I also have "The Modern Crochet Book", also with an impressive subtitle:

I was pleased to find a pattern for swastika lace, or "Nazi lace" as my son calls it.

I have some old lace featuring this motif, but since the Nazis perverted the symbol it's hard to know how to market it these days. However, it seems to have been a popular design in its day.

Clearly, I have the lace upside down in the photo because the swastika is rotating in the opposite direction from the pattern above.

This crochet incorporates fancy braid. I've often wondered how such pieces were made. I think you would find it very tricky to find such braid these days, even if you had eyesight good enough to attempt this.

And finally, a divine petticoat trim. I wish I could see the finished garment.

In this book is an ad for another Flora Klickmann book which I would love to have. If I ever have to train a servant it will be invaluable to me:

While writing this article, I remembered that for several months I have had another of Flora Klickmann's books in my watch list on ebay, and writing this has inspired me to spend the money and buy it. I eagerly await the arrival of  "Beautiful Crochet on Household Linen". I hope I haven't inspired you all to start bidding against me for future Flora Klickmann books!

One Man's Trash...

Yesterday I purchased a pile of vintage linen. And when I say a pile, I really do mean a pile. I mean a mound about a metre high. So guess what I did today? Yes, lots of laundry.

One of the items I purchased was a lucky dip, a sealed bag of "stained tablecloths". Many of the other items were also stained. Last night I put them into the bath to soak in the laundry soaker.

So today was a big wash day. Luckily the weather was perfect, so, out of the bath and into the washing machine for a gentle rinse, then onto the line.

And this is only the first batch.

Oh, and hand wash the pile that didn't need soaking and hang them to dry inside.

By this time it was nearly lunchtime and time to start ironing, doing some easy mending as I ironed. Then, onto the table to photograph each cloth. I also had quite a few vintage garments to iron, including two very tricky silk numbers. One beautiful gold silk blouse had some stubborn wrinkles. A quick internet search suggested steaming to iron silk, so I held the steaming iron an inch or so above the garment for a few seconds, then pressed. It worked beautifully. I wish I had known this years ago.

I also took advantage of the good weather to wash the baby shawl I knitted when I was expecting my first baby 30 years ago. Now my daughter is expecting her first baby in a few weeks so the shawl is going to her. It had to lie flat to dry, which was tricky, but I managed well.

The pantry supplies did a good job as weights to stop it blowing away.

A few of the cloths in the soaker still had marks, but I had a contingency plan. Stage two of linen restoration was going to be a soak in a solution of cold tea to dye the item ecru. Any items that still have stubborn marks will go to Stage Three - Dye the item black.

Well, they're charcoal grey, actually.

I am really pleased with the way the black/grey doilies turned out. Stage Two has been held over to another day.

After a few hours on the line in the sunshine, most of the items were looking good. A few had marks that had faded a lot, and I have decided not to tea soak them, although I do have a pile of doilies that will get that treatment another day. Only one cloth had to be put back on the line for a blast of 35C degree sunshine tomorrow. Out of the dozen or so cloths in the "stained" lucky dip bag,  I have put aside 3 for crafting purposes, they have bits of embroidery and lace that I hope to be able to use to make something special. The rest have come up beautifully.

The mending pile has reached daunting proportions. It has second priority behind the baby knitting at the moment. It is full of forgotten treasures that I will rediscover in a couple of months time. If you are looking for long pink vintage evening gloves, let me know, and I will put them to the top of the pile - they only need new buttons.

After all of this I was feeling a tad weary. Just to cook dinner, then spend two hours watering the garden!
And it's my day off! It's back to work tomorrow for a rest!! Saving vintage treasures from the trash is a lot of  hard work, but a labour of love.