Tailoring for Women

It’s time to sing that chorus again.  With the evenings drawing in and the temperature  falling,  we will need to think of bundling up in a few more layers when we go out.  For those who plan ahead, the ever reliable overcoat waiting in the back of the wardrobe can be taken out for an airing and a good brush…an old friend with lots of memories, here again to keep you snug.

Overcoats come in all sorts of styles; topcoats, peacoats, cover coats, crombie etc.  They are as wonderful a garment as they are essential, and can give real authority to a wardrobe.  Like a piece of sculpture, they help make you look smart and poised. I feel they are the epitome of style and good taste when the weather begins to turn.  Worn over a business suit or daywear, they come in a range of weights and fabrics.  Camel hair, cashmeres, wools or the luxurious vicuna can be styled into any design from above knee to ankle length.  The longer the length the better the protection.

Coats often have an interesting history.  For example, the polo coat originally started out as a simple camel-hair wrap coat, like a large blanket.  It was something the riders threw over their shoulders, like a bathrobe, while waiting to resume play. Originally it was called a ‘wait’ coat but in the 1920s, when English polo players were first invited to play in matches on Long Island (NY), the swagger of these coats didn’t go unnoticed, and they soon appeared on East coast campuses. By 1930, polo coats had supplanted the raccoon coats at the Yale-Princeton football game; a decided stamp of approval.

This coat for one of my women clients has a ‘button-tab’ collar.  It’s an unusual design that evolved as a means of keeping out the chill wind.  The lapel and top collar roll-line open and cross over at the center front fully covering and protecting the upper chest and neck area.  With an under collar from matching cloth, instead of the melton collar one sees in most men’s tailoring, it looks equally smart whether open or closed.

To emphasise the accents in this colourful Donegal tweed, and to add an eye-catching finish I  hand-worked each button hole in a different colour silk twist.

My own worsted wool overcoat, inspired by the ‘swing’ style of the 40′s, has a magnificent autumnal check and finishes just 3″ above the ankle.  It covers all skirt lengths and is one of my cosiest items.  Real weather…..bring it on!

With due acknowledgement paid to Rogers and Hammerstein, I thought this week’s post should be devoted to a garment I am personally becoming quite attached to; the happi coat.

This loose fitting Japanese jacket originated as a lightweight over-garment that became a traditional part of a shop keeper’s uniform. The family crest, shop name or emblem was printed on the back of the coat.   In Japanese restaurants the chefs often wear something similar to a happi coat called a hippari.  However, rather than having the traditional obi tied around the waist it has a small belt that ties inside the foreparts.  Today, happi coats are still used by some shop keepers, however you see them more usually at Japanese festivals.

It is an extremely practical garment that folds, packs and travels well, and no doubt this is in part what lends it such popularity.  The traditional garments can be made in cottons or linens but there is no reason why they couldn’t be made from most any fabric.

I made this one recently for a client.The fabric I used is a hand woven ‘shot silk and its irridescence is captivating.

Flattering, as it drapes on all figures with its soft shoulder line and proportion that skims the hipline, its belt can also be decorated with beads or perhaps something similar to the traditional netsuke.

I received this picture recently from Japan.  This particular happi was a small token of thanks I made for a friend who had treated me to a day of kabuki drama at the Kabuki-za followed by an evening of sushi and sake with her family.  Here she models the finished garment with her arms tucked in to show the shape of the sleeves!

It is made from a length of kimono fabric woven by one of her forebears.  The width of the roll of fabric fits within the traditional standard, around 15 inches, whereby one length would make one of the foreparts, two lengths joined together would form the back, and another length would wrap around the arm to form the sleeve.  This foreward thinking in the manufacturing process eleminates much of the cutting.

I think that there is something almost uncanny about these garments that has also been remarked upon by my clients.  It may well be that the feeling of freedom these garments give somehow encourages a different sense of poise when you wear them.  Maybe it is the way in which this garment highlights the character of the person who wears it rather than it becoming the centre of focus.

Whatever it may be, I now wear them all the time as my signature garment when I am working in the studio.

Photo: thanks to Japanese gifts