This week I’ve had the pleasure to work on a beautiful gown that was recently purchased from an Australian webshop, and needed a little TLC.

This dress came to the Australian webshop via the Rose Bowl markets in L.A, and probably dates to 1940 or early 1941, before the US joined WW2 and full length dresses were seen as too wasteful with all their fabric. Later during the war, even these long dresses were shortened so they’re hard to find in their original length.

The bodice, sleeves and pockets are decorated with a fancy cotton braid, a technique sometimes known as “Cornelli” or “Soutache”, it’s a type of passementerie and particularly popular in the ’40s (it had a brief resurgence along with other ’40s design elements during the 1980s).

The fabric is one of my favourites: a rayon knit sometimes called “Celanese” in Australia (perhaps because it was the Celanese company that wove rayons amongst other other products, much as Manchester factories produced linens?).

You see a bit of it during the ’30s and ’40s and it has lovely soft draping and breathability – it’s also quite a robust fabric as long as you don’t get any holes in it, upon which, like other knits, it can start to develop bigger holes. One of my tasks was to darn the holes, and secure the cornelli work where it was starting to unravel.

Notice how the bodice is drooping a little on one side – that’s because the seam from sleeve to almost the waist was ripped open.

This pic is a little clearer – a very brave lady would be needed to wear this gown!

Here are more rips – now, the difference between a rip and a tear: a rip is where stitches are missing along a seam, and a tear is where the fabric is has been damaged. Rips are easy to fix and in this case when I found more than twenty, I realised it would be more effective to resew every seam.

Back before synthetic textiles were invented in the ’50s, all garments were sewn with pure cotton (or sometimes silk) thread – and as wonderful as that is, over time the natural materials deteriorate. Many dresses from the early ’40s still have strong stitching, but when you see random missing stitches like this it’s usually a sign that the thread itself needs replacing.

From the ’50s to the ’80s, thread was generally a mix of cotton and polyester – and in more recent time, threads are pure polyester. Now as much as I dislike poly, I have to admit that it’s much stronger than the earlier materials and comes in a great range of vibrant colours, that don’t fade.

Here’s an example of a tear at the neckline – someone has probably been in a hurry to take the dress off and has tugged at the neckline, tearing into the fabric. To fix this, I unpicked the neckline a bit, ironed the opening flat, stitched the two broken sides together and then resewed the neckline a little over to one side, to take the stress off the weak spot. In this case, with the ruching at the neckline you don’t see the repair. Neckline rips are common, but straightforward to fix.

If you’re reeling at my mention that I restitched every seam, I’ll show you another reason why it was a good idea: the gown showed signs of many previous repairs – and not only were they not done very well, the thread colour didn’t match.

Inexpert hand sewn repairs can often be lumpy, and ruin the line of a seam – I carefully unpicked every repair and restitched by machine. As well, I replaced the lumpy shoulder pads with smooth modern versions (WW2 shoulder pads are often misshappen) of a size preferred by the client, and secured the neck and sleeve facings by hand.

I’m sure that I now know the gown inside out and it’s probably the most attention it’s had since the original seamstress did her work! Thankfully this is a beautiful gown, and looks wonderful on her new wearer and its now strong enough to last many years and hopefully grace many lovely events.

These dresses are getting harder to find, but if you fancy whipping one up for yourself, I have a similar pattern in the webshop. It would be great in a nice silk jersey.

As an aside, I’d like to mention that if you do receive a damaged garment from an online trader, regardless of any policies they might have saying “No Returns”, they have a responsibility to provide a garment that is fit for its purpose, ie, wearable – and under Australian law you are entitled to a refund, or happy resolution.

I like to think that all traders seek satisfied customers and are keen to resolve any issues, so I always recommend bringing them to their attention so that they have an opportunity to do the right thing.

And if you do have a frock that needs some love – I’m at your service!

Recently a lovely lady brought us this silk gown – Violet, the original wearer wore it on her first date with her future husband in 1929. Over the intervening years, it was kept safe with other sartorial treasures like her wedding dress, shoes and stockings and the gown she wore when her son was married in the ’50s.

It’s always so special when you have the stories behind clothes and wherever possible, I like to be able to hand them on with the clothing, to their new homes.

Violet’s beautiful gown, like many of that era, was made of delicate fabrics and it was never expected that over eighty years later we’d still want these fashions! I’m pleased to report that with patience and skill, they can be restored.

This once grand gown looks rather shabby at the moment (apologies for the out of focus photo) but still full of potential. Let me take you through our plans – this is how the gown looks in the original, unrestored state before any work has been done. I haven’t even pressed it because I don’t want to damage it further.

The main part of the gown is a soft blue silk charmeuse, still in very good and mostly strong condition which is great news: as long as the fabric is strong, there is always something that you can do.

You can see that there was an insert into the top of the bodice and under the arms – remnants of chain stitch embroidery show where it sat originally, but the delicate silk chiffon has almost all rotted away.

Thankfully silk chiffon is still a popular modern fabric and it will be easy to obtain a similar colour, or could be dyed to match the original. The sheer effect could also be reproduced using a silk organza, which is more robust.

Here’s a better shot of the bodice, where you can see the ghost of the insert -it’s quite beautiful despite it’s unwearability.

Here, on the left side, the sheer panel descends all the way to the hips, where a silk ribbon gathers the panels together. The inside portion of the skirt at this point is a heavy silver metallic fabric – you can just see it there on the right side of the split.

The skirt is open on this side from the hips to the floor, suggesting that perhaps it’s an overdress? At the very least, a petticoat would need to be worn underneath to preserve one’s modesty – this is a very revealing dress without the proper undergarments, and far too racy for a first date.

On the right side, you can see how that large sheer panel shows off the curve of the young lady’s back – I’m sure it wasn’t too sheer though, you probably just saw the afore-mentioned petticoat, something like this one.

Isn’t that embroidery stunning? Chain stitch combined with lots of large sequins, probably made of gelatine and looking almost like fish scales – the colours so vibrant, perfect for a young lady set to impress (and I’m sure she did).

So after replacing the missing panels, we’ll ensure the sequins and embroidery are secure and re-apply the detailing on the new panel too. There may be some rips in the seams: this dress is likely to be sewn using cotton or silk, so we’ll use the same material in the closest colour possible (most modern threads are polyester, nice and strong but not authentic for this era).

You may have noticed a gouge in the skirt in the first pic, near the hem: this dress is very long, even for a ’20s dress and so we’ll probably sacrifice some of the length and shorten the hem. This will only minimally affect the sequinned design and the skirt will still be long enough for the era.

An alternative would be to patch it, but it’s in a noticeable spot and we’d have trouble matching the fabric without dyeing, although some fabric could be taken from the side gathered portion – diminishing that aspect but preserving the length.

More of the fabulous detailing: a stylised floral design with sequins in assorted shapes – and a huge stylised bird! You can see that hem gouge at the bottom.

I’m delighted to inform you that we can now offer this service to you for your vintage and antique treasures. Perhaps you’d like some assistance with preparing a family heirloom for your wedding, or an ancient christening gown that needs freshening up and rejuvenation for a new family member?

Bring us your favourite things and we can advise on the work involved and give an estimate of the cost involved. Repairs and alterations also available.