Author: VintageJenny

Decorations and Decor · The Creative Corner

Your Surprise Gift

VintageJenny
Felt gladiolus flower, pink with yellow stamens. Made as a corsage.
The kit includes everything you need to make this gladiolus. Well, almost.

Your surprise gift is enclosed. Mail order companies of the 1920s, 30s and 40s often enticed their readership with promises of free, surprise gifts should they order. Some companies spelled out what the customer would receive: Order our new fabric, and receive three skeins of our best embroidery floss, free — or whatever they could throw in to sweeten the deal. When the package came, it arrived in an envelope emblazoned with: Your surprise gift is enclosed!

Often a company selected them on receiving the answer to a question. What is your favorite color? What is your birth month? August was the birthday of the person who possessed the gladiolus gift. It was easy enough to create a dozen different flower kits, one for each month of the year. That way, if your neighbor did business with the company as well, the chance was slim that you would end up with the same kit. Plus, it looked as if the organization actually cared, and less like what it was — a marketing tool to snag more orders.

Flowers in the Mail

In my stash of patterns, I have three of these gifts. All from the same company. All from the 1940s. And all of them unmade. Two sets were for lapel pins, which I hope to cover later. The third was for the gladiolus corsage you see at the top of this post. The original contents appear below.

Flower kit from the 1940s consisting of a paper pattern, instructions, and three tiny pieces of felt in pink, green, and yellow.
The original kit as received.

This was all packed very neatly in a glassine envelope. I wondered why it was never completed, and why it was saved. Could this have been from someone who wanted to do it on a rainy day? Or perhaps a person who saved everything? I’ll never know.

The project looked easy enough, so I thought I’d give it a try. You can see my result in the top photo. I used my own felt, not the pieces from the kit.

After about an hour struggling to put this thing together, something became very clear. Neither the person who designed this nor anyone on the company’s staff ever tried to put this together. The instructions simply did not work. It was a tiny sketch of a finished piece, some pattern pieces, and nothing more.

Missing a Few Things

As you can see, I did manage to finish the thing, but not without some frustration. Your Surprise Gift may have contained a cute pattern and some felt, but it was missing some very key ingredients to be called a project. To finish this, you need:

  • the pattern
  • three small pieces of felt

So far, so good. I had those. But reading the instructions, I also need:

  • thin wire or floral wire
  • green embroidery thread
  • green sewing thread for tying (which I did not have handy. You can see the light blue thread in the photo.)
  • pin back for making it into a corsage, or magnet for sticking it onto the fridge.

I’m still not sure any of the felt pieces were large enough for the project except the yellow piece. I had a larger piece of pink felt, almost twice the size of the piece in the photo, and I used over half of it. You can see my traced pattern pieces on the original kit pieces below.

You’re supposed to get six leaves from this piece of pink felt.

I don’t know that any amount of geometry would have gotten six leaves of various sizes plus the bud piece you see on the green felt from that little piece of pink. Four? Sure. I could get four. But not six. And the flower needs six pieces to make a gladiolus.

Creating the Spray

I was beginning to see why these kits were never completed. Then I started to put it together. That’s where the real fun begins. The instructions read: This is your surprise gift. Make a gladiolus spray – August. So far, so good. I’m going to create a gladiolus spray. That will be pretty as a corsage on my jacket. I’ve included the original instructions in bold, and my comments follow as I attempt to assemble the flower.

Cut six petals of varying sizes as given here, a bud and another bud piece of green. Nowhere does the instruction sheet say what sizes to cut the petals, only that I need six. After peering at Internet images of gladioli, I decided that I needed one large, two medium, and three small petals to make a gladiolus.

Make long yellow stamens by slashing the yellow felt. That was simple enough. I cut my small yellow square into a fringe and rolled it up.

Arrange petals around these and tie tightly with green thread. This proved to be more difficult than it seemed. First, the instructions do not tell you how to arrange the petals. I guessed from looking at photos of flowers. Second, the petals do not simply arrange. I had to construct the flower one layer at a time, tying each layer as I went. Here is a photo of the first layer. I put two medium and one small petal around the yellow center and tied it around the bottom of the petals.

For the second layer, I placed the large petal between the two medium ones, and finished the row with two small petals in between the petals in the previous layer. You can see how it turned out in the top photo.

And It All Goes Downhill From Here…

The green bud portion is folded over the pink bud, which has been rolled tightly. And this is where everything started to fall apart. The pink bud did not roll tightly, in any fashion. The only way it would have rolled is if I sewed it in place, and I was attempting to follow the directions as they were written. I finally got some semblance of the two layers together, which you can see in the top photo. They’re held together with some kind of Viking stronghold lacing and now they are afraid to move.

This is fastened to a short wire stem and wrapped with green floss. How short? What kind of wire? This is the first time wire appears in the instructions. I have some floral wire, and some a bit thinner than that, so I grab a length and snip off about four inches. I stick the end into the bottom of the finished bud and wrap about two and a half inches of it with green embroidery floss. A knot around the wire finishes off the wrapping near the bottom of the wire.

Attaching the Flower to a Wire

A flower is to be fastened on stem next — wrapping with floss as you go. This is all well and good. Do I fasten it to the wire I already started? Um… nope. No way to affix it to the wire at all. So I need a new wire. Got it. I cut a wire about eight inches and stuck it in the bottom of the flower. Then I started to wrap the wire with the green floss. And… it didn’t work. It bunched. It jumped. The bottom of the flower had no sloped edges to help it hold onto the wire. The green floss refused to wrap smoothly onto the wire. Along the way the outer layer of the petals started to fall off.

Along the way, the flower fell off the wire. Nowhere in the instructions did it tell me to attach it to the wire in any concrete way. I put the flower back onto the wire, and pushed it all the way through until it came through the yellow center. Then I bent the top of the wire into a small hook, and pulled it back down. Voilá! The wire stayed where it needed to stay.

Actually, only working with the inner layer of petals proved much easier. I attached the outer layer one petal at a time as I wound the green floss around the wire. A bit below the main flower, I added in the bud and continued to wrap with the floss.

Finishing the Stem

I wound the floss until about an inch and a half from the bottom of the wire. Then I bent the wire in a U, held the top against the stem, and wound the stem again. This time I caught the bare wire against the stem, finishing it off and making a finished end of stem at the same time.

Last, a long, slender leaf may be cut, pointing the tip. Fasten over stem and wind in to hold. There is no pattern for this leaf. In addition, the original green felt was far too small for a long, slender leaf. Putting reality aside, I cut a leaf from my own felt. Holding it against the stem I continued to wind upward until it was securely attached to the stem. Then I tied a nice solid knot to finish it off. I’ll work in the end of the thread later.

Your Surprise Gift

All in all, Your Surprise Gift wasn’t all it was promised to be. If the instructions were more clear, the project would be simpler to do. If all the pattern pieces had been included (I’m looking at you, Long Slender Leaf), that would be good, too. And if anyone at the company had bothered to try to make this before sending it out, that would have been excellent.

Another option would be to take the pattern as written and make the flower in crepe paper. It would be easy to do and probably turn out splendid. In fact, this whole project may have started as a crepe paper idea that was (sadly) transferred to felt.

I’m glad that I gave the project a try, but I certainly understand why so many Your Surprise Gift packages remain unmade. It would only take one for me to swear off them forever.

If you would like to try to make your own gladiolus, let me know how you get along. Below is a copy of the instructions and pattern along with a measurement. The page is 8.5 inches wide and about 2.75 inches high. Instructions were probably printed four to a page and cut apart for mailing.

Here’s a copy of the instructions with measurements.

And here’s a copy you can print.

1940s pattern for a flower made from felt.
Pattern for gladiolus. Prints 8.5 inches wide.

If you enjoy working with felt, you might also like these Spring Bookmarks.

The Creative Corner · Vintage Fashion · Vintage Sewing

1920s Wardrobe Accessories

VintageJenny
Large purple hat from 1924. It is decorated with big purple embroidered flowers and large green leaves.
Make a statement with a large decorated hat.

Once you create a Twenties wardrobe, capsule or not, what are the 1920s wardrobe accessories that pull it together? Last time I talked about creating a Twenties capsule wardrobe. In this post I’ll suggest some add-ons that will make a Twenties outfit stand out. Incorporate a few of these ideas, or use them all to really expand your wardrobe and its capabilities.

Keep in mind that the traditional Twenties wardrobe contained few pieces. Most people didn’t have a closet filled with clothing. Clothes were expensive. The Twenties saw a time of inflation before the Great Depression that had everyone complaining about prices of everything from meat to the clothing budget. Generally, your typical Twenties woman had two to three dresses she wore at home, a visiting dress, perhaps a travel outfit, an evening gown if she moved in those circles, and a few other pieces. Separates such as those found in a capsule wardrobe would be a godsend to someone like this.

So if you begin with six pieces consisting of a travel or business suit, one extra skirt, and three blouses or tops, what will finish your wardrobe? Add one piece at a time, with thought, and you will soon have a beautiful selection of period reproduction garments from which to choose. One of the great benefits is that you can choose what you like from the decade, without the pressure to update your dresses each time the calendar turns.

Hats, Hats, Hats

The most obvious 1920s wardrobe accessories are the small items that finish an outfit. The hat at the top of this post, for instance, would make anyone look twice. Or choose a hat like this one, that gives you more flexibility. This one could top a suit just as easily as an afternoon outfit.

Twenties millinery can be as challenging as learning to work with blocks and wires, or it can be as simple as using a Twenties crochet hat pattern and decorating it to match various outfits. Some fabric hats, such as turbans, used no infrastructure at all.

Charming Twenties spring hat from printed or embroidered fabric.

Bags and Bling

Once you have something to top off the outfit, so to speak, you need a portable container for your things. Here are some options.

Crocheted pouch handbag made in two colors of lavender. The main body is in a dark lavender mesh, while the bottom of the bag has a light lavender triangle lace with solid diamonds between.
A visiting handbag or small workbag for on the go

One of my favorites, I have this bag almost completed. When made with the size thread suggested, it comes out quite small, about eight inches in length. It would be enough to hold necessities for a day out, but little more. This is a general everyday bag or small workbag if you tat. Nothing much larger than a tatting shuttle, ball of thread, and current project will fit.

Twenties handbag made from knitted beads and deep beaded fringe.
Carry all the bling in your handbag!

This type of handbag was knitted with seed beads. It sparkled every time its owner moved, and these were very popular. Interesting to note, these were not touted as evening bags. This was another type of everyday handbag.

Twenties handbag with intricate beaded embroidery and a beaded fringe hanging from the bottom.
Bag with bead embroidery and netted fringe.

Here’s another example of a beaded handbag. This time, the beads are embroidered onto a satin foundation, and then beads are attached in a netted fringe pattern along the bottom.

…And the bling

Twenties woman with short curly hair wears a beaded or ribbon band across her forehead that looks somewhat like a falling star.
Hair band adds bling to this woman’s hairstyle

Hairstyle accents like this one added pizzazz to an outfit without requiring much storage space. 1920s wardrobe accessories like this dress up the outfits you have.

A dress belt made from ribbon circles and ovals.
Dressy belt made from ribbons.

Belts, sashes, and corsages made from ribbon helped to heighten the dressiness and flash of an ensemble without replacing the dress underneath it. The belt above is made completely from pieces of ribbon, and hand sewn. The dress ornament below is also made from pieces of ribbon.

Ribbon corsage from the Twenties. A large fluffy flower made from ribbon heads six long streamers.
This ribbon corsage leads the eye below the waist.

Ribbon corsages of all shapes and sizes attached to dresses, coats, capes, and hats to change the appearance to suit the wearer and the occasion. Often they were attached to long streamers or strips of lace and suspended from the low waistline of the dress, like this one. These additions pinned to the dress so they could be removed after the event, and they drew the eye away from a plain neckline.

Coats and Wraps

1920s winter coat with a high collar buttoned around the neck and the sleeves making part of a cape that falls down behind. The coat has a belt at the waist and is of a plaid material.
A coat makes your period outfit complete

If you plan to go outdoors at all, and you live in an area that produces cold air and snow, you are going to need a cover. This might be something like the spectacular cape coat illustrated above. Or you may prefer an article like a full cape. Long capes were often utilized for evening wear. They gave warmth without crushing delicate lace or ruffles.

You can’t get much more classic than this 1925 spring raincoat.

If classic is your goal, you might like this 1925 raincoat. With few alterations, these coats still appear in shops and online every year.

Sweaters and Overblouses

Knit dress from 1922. Image from Antique Pattern Library; link to free download below.

An easy way to add mileage to your wardrobe is to add sweaters and other knitted or crocheted items. Sweaters, tops, knitted dresses, shawls, and so on add versatility with just a few items. This knit dress with its matching hat is an example. You can find the entire book, with many sweater and knitted blouse options, from the Antique Pattern Library. View the images and download it here.

1920s photo of a woman in a knitted Twenties cardigan. It buttons down the front with large patch pockets on each side below the waist.
A longline sweater for cool days

A simple cardigan can alter your look at the same time that it provides warmth. You only need one, if you want any at all. A sweater like this makes a great 1920s wardrobe accessory.

A woman from the 1920s wears a
Simple Twenties top in filet crochet

Another option is a filet crochet blouse that can go over a Twenties chemise or underskirt you already have. Relatively simple to make and memorable, these little overblouses were quite fashionable in the Twenties.

Shawls and Wraps

Woman wearing an embroidered cashmere shawl. 1924.
Twenties embroidered shawl made from cashmere.

Add a shawl to your 1920s wardrobe accessories kit. A nice shawl dresses up an outfit and provides an extra layer if necessary. A shawl can be made from wool and fringed, like the one above, or it can be crocheted, like the one below.

Crocheted shawl for dressy occasions.

This shawl can be used for dressy or not-so-dressy occasions. In fact, a large square shawl like this could see a lot of use in a Twenties wardrobe.

Making It Your Own

The best way to accessorize a wardrobe is to have a plan. My everyday modern wardrobe looks like it was assembled by a gerbil with ADHD. Don’t do that. Don’t be like me. Spend some time and determine what you want for the basics, and then build from there once you have it.

Looking at the cape coat above, for instance, makes me want to grab my pattern drafting paper and create one as the basis of my wardrobe. Perhaps that’s because I live in the Frozen North, and am looking out at a 12-degree Fahrenheit (-11 Celsius) morning as I write.

Weather aside, perhaps you have a dream and desire of holding historical tea parties. Then build your wardrobe around nice separates. Throw in a one piece dress if you like. Make sure you spend some time researching and making the most darling little tea apron you ever saw. It can be made from sheer organdy, or handkerchief linen, or a fabric you fall in love with. If that apron makes your heart sing every time you see it, you will enjoy every tea party you throw.

More suggestions

To see some options of other accessories for the Twenties wardrobe, take a look at A Gift of Handkerchiefs and Crochet a Twenties Wrist Bag.

The Creative Corner · Vintage Fashion · Vintage Sewing

Creating a 1920s Capsule Wardrobe

VintageJenny
1920s woman in a skirt and matching suit jacket. The jacket has flared sleeves and hangs below her hipline. It is open in front. She wears a large hat with a large feather in the front.
Use a nice simple suit as the basis for your Twenties wardrobe.

If the fit and flare of the Twenties makes your heart flutter, look here for suggestions on creating a 1920s capsule wardrobe. As I’ve stated in an earlier article, the concept of the capsule wardrobe didn’t really appear until the late Thirties. Even though we’re still more than ten years ahead of the times, we can still use Twenties clothing to create a great versatile wardrobe.

You might think, after looking at various photos of 1920s clothing, that women wore nothing other than one-piece dresses. This is simply not true, which is a good thing for those who want to incorporate a 1920s capsule wardrobe into their costuming. Suits appeared at the business office, for various sporting events, and at the train station. They came into use quite often during travel because they made it possible to pack few clothes for many different days and occasion. Surprise! The 1920s capsule wardrobe at work during vacation and travel.

First, choose a suit as a foundation. It can be classic or faddish in styling, whichever you prefer. Either the suit above or the one below would prove a great starting point for a beginning 1920s wardrobe. All these photos date from 1922-1924, so they fit well together without trying to emulate the teenager “flapper” look. These are the clothes that real women wore in the Twenties before 1925.

Woman in a double breasted business suit with long skirt. 1922-23. She wears a close fitting hat on her head that matches the suit color.
This suit gives you a completely different look.

For a 1920s capsule wardrobe you only need one suit jacket to start with. The top example is more flirty and fun, while the bottom suit is more businesslike. Its jacket would work with a variety of skirts. Choose one that fits its intended wear. The best reconstruction in the world won’t work if you choose an after-five dress and all you attend are afternoon tea parties! You will look just a bit out of place wherever you go.

So, assuming that you plan to live during the daylight hours, a simple suit gives you a matching jacket and skirt. You could choose any color, from peach to dark brown, or from dark green to blue. Make it a color you like, and that you can build a wardrobe around. Remember, it’s hard to match pinks and reds with like colors unless the fabrics were designed to go together. It can be done, but it takes time, patience, and fabric swatches.

1920s striped skirt, almost ankle length, with a side front button and a small pocket placket at the right hip.
This skirt would look well made in either stripes as shown, or in a solid fabric.

This skirt blends well with the double breasted jacket. Or, if you prefer, here’s another, more dressy option.

1920s skirt illustration. The skirt hangs about six inches above the ankle, with drapes at both side seams that hang almost to the floor.
A slightly more dressy option to round out your wardrobe.

The skirt with side draperies on the bottom is actually much easier to construct than the tailored skirt above it. Either one would look nice as part of a small 1920s capsule wardrobe.

Of course, once you have your skirts all determined, you need blouses to finish the outfit. A 1920s capsule wardrobe shines here. Blouses and tops were popular, with distinctive designs and folksy embroidery. Here are some examples:

1920s illustration of long sleeve blouse with embroidered yoke. The sleeves tie at the wrist.
Blouse with embroidered yoke
1920s white long sleeve blouse with a long ruffly jabot that reaches almost to the waistline. The shirt has a soft turnover collar.
Make the jabot detachable and you have a blouse for a suit and one for an afternoon party.
Two 1920s blouses. One is a scoop
The scoop neck blouse works well with the flirty suit at the top, with or without the extra embroidery. Wear the blouse under the skirt.

With one suit, one extra skirt, and three blouses you have a total of six outfits, worn with or without the jacket. Because the jacket likely won’t work with all the tops you select, you can count on six ensembles instead of nine. Add a simple white silky top without too much decoration and the draped skirt above, and you have a nice dressy combination as well.

Once you have six workable pieces, enough to take up a few inches in your closet but no more, you can evaluate your new wardrobe and decide what additional pieces you need. In the next article I’ll give examples of add-ons that will take your small 1920s capsule wardrobe to the next level. Plus, it will become even more versatile.

The Creative Corner · Vintage Fashion · Vintage Sewing

1910s Wardrobe Accessories

VintageJenny
Illustration of seven different belts to add to 1912 clothing. Text: Pretty Belts and Girdles Easily Made at Home. A wistful woman sits in the middle of six belt illustrations, one of the decorative belts attached to her waist.
A selection of belts to accent the 1912-1913 wardrobe.

You’re interested in building a Titanic-era wardrobe. But you have limited funds for costuming, limited space, or both. What to do? First, if you haven’t, read about buiding a very basic 1910s Capsule Wardrobe here. Then come back and we’ll continue building your collection with 1910s wardrobe accessories.

If you’re still in the planning stages, that’s okay. Planning is a lot of the fun. Creating it is the hard part, especially if you sew the set yourself. You might even put the entire ensemble together in your mind and then decide it’s not what you want. That’s okay too. But if you do decide that 1912 is your year, then you’ll need a few pieces to wear. Then you will need some extras.

Adding The Extras

Currently, if you are building an historic capsule wardrobe, you have two skirts, three blouses, and a jacket. That’s enough for a dozen different outfits. But how do you make it a bit more distinctive? The same way the original wearers did. You use accessories of various kinds.

Wear a girdle

One possible accessory lies in the belt or girdle. Made from velvet, fabric or ribbon, and sometimes trimmed with fur, these belts made a statement. A draped belt could be decorated with an eye-catching ribbon rosette. Or perhaps you have a bit of silk and some dark cord. Make the belt from the silk, stiffened and lined to hold its shape, and then use cord or braid to embroider a design like the one in the upper left corner of the illustration at the top of this post.

Your belt can be drapey or tailored. Let it match your outfit and your personal style.

Carry a handbag

Choose a handbag or a miser’s purse to complete your outfit

These are illustrations from 1912. Make a purse with a little metal closure. Or choose one that folds over like No. 90 above. Perhaps you’d like to carry a miser’s purse like the ones in the bottom row. They are a bit more difficult to keep hold of, but they are classic and were still in use at the beginning of the Twentieth century. Basically they are made of two pieces that look somewhat like an hourglass or a dumbbell. Rounded at both ends and thinner in the middle. The middle part has an opening, which you can barely see in the photo on the right. Two rings hold everything secure at the top of each larger part so that nothing falls out. You move the rings back and forth to access the items.

Add a Wrap

Photo of 9 shawls and sweaters from 1915. All are on headless manniquins, and all are knit or crocheted in a light colored yarn.
Shawls and sweaters abound in the 1915 Beehive Woolcraft book.

You may be chilly. Or you might want a knitted or crocheted extra layer for effect. To make your own shawls, sweaters, and crocheted jackets, look no further than the 1915 Beehive Woolcraft book, available from the Antique Pattern Library. This particular illustration, and the instructions, are in PDF number 2, although you will want PDF 1 for basic instructions, yarn sizes, and so on. PDF 3 includes socks and gloves for the 1910-1016 period. Frankly, they’re all great. Get them all.

You might need to do some conversions for sizing or different sized yarn, but these patterns are definitely doable. And you’ll look great in them! (The first illustration, top left, is a man’s vest. Everything else is for women’s sizing of the period.)

Dress Up That Blouse

With a little creativity and some time, you can make collars and jabots to dress up the blouses you make. Add a few of these, and it doesn’t matter how plain your waists. With a little ruffle magic you can transform the everyday suit shirt into a great afternoon ruffly visitation creation.

Special Occasion Magic

Everything listed above is for everyday wear. Add a couple special belts, or that amazing belt and sash combination in the belt photo, and you have some interesting alternatives for your six basic pieces. Then if you continue with changable collars or jabots, a couple purses, and a shawl along with a sweater, you have a gorgeous and complete wardrobe for most occasions.

But what if you do all this, you find that you love it, and you have a special occasion? Although these can’t be actually considered 1910s wardrobe accessories, they are wardrobe extenders. But like masquerade clothing, you should only include them if you have the spare cash for the cost and if you think you will get some use out of them.

Splish splashing away

1912 illustration of three women wearing bathing dresses. Each one wears a bathing cap to match her dress, and one of them wears a beach jacket, a long coat over her bathing suit.
Wouldn’t you love to hit the beach in this?

If you live near the seaside, you might find yourself with an invitation to the beach. These dresses usually consisted of a top, short bloomers, and a skirt over the bloomers. Often everything buttoned into a waistband on the blouse. These were most often made of a light wool. Cotton clings when wet, and a twill gets dangerously heavy. If you’d rather start with a real pattern, look at Folkwear’s Bathing Costume. Folkwear drafted the pattern from an 1890 original, but it will give you somewhere to start along with “current” illustrations.

Here we go a-motoring

Two women stand together dressed in long coats. One of them peers at a pair of binoculars.

These are automobile coats. You don’t mean to say that you’ve been in an automobile without one! The dust! The wind! How did you ever manage?

The automobile coat kept the dust and grime from the road off your clothes. It also kept you a bit warmer in a car that may be a bit drafty. While in no way a necessity, if you plan to go motoring to your next picnic, you might want to consider one of these. It will ensure that you arrive at your destination clean, tidy, and serene.

That special evening

Finally, we get to the clothing that most people think of when they envision the Titanic Era. This is a formal evening gown that exudes drapery and class. Compared with everything else in your wardrobe you can see that this stands out like an ostrich. However, if you need something like this, nothing else you have already will do. So purchase the net or the sheer sparkly fabric and have a ball. You will be gorgeous.

The End, or the Beginning

As you can see, six pieces of clothing are only the beginning to wardrobe prep if you want them to be. You can add all kinds of things to add spice, and even include special occasion clothing to round out your mix. Or you can take your six pieces and add some more utilitarian items to your stash to round out your wardrobe.

An entirely different approach

The Five Dollar Wardrobe. In 1912.

This is called the Five Dollar Wardrobe. In 1912, with five dollars and knowledge of how to use a sewing machine, you could have a servicable set of clothing like this. The assortment includes one suit with a blouse. The jacket was lined with flannel and a fake silk. The blouse had a kimono shoulder and was made from white silk. Moving left to right, the woman holding the teacup wears a house dress. It uses hand-embroidered eyelets down the front as decoration, and scallops made from piping created out of the dress material. The black and white checked dress that comes next actually cost three times what the house dress cost. The dress trim used cross stitch in black to x out some of the white lines and form a border. The last dress pictured, made from white net, functions as a party dress. It cost less than anything in the room other than the house dress.

You can see that this is a viable option for wardrobe planning. However, you get four outfits instead of twelve with an investment of six pieces. Five outfits if you wore the blouse and skirt without the jacket. Adding an extra blouse would give you two more outfits. These dresses, while lovely, do not mix and match on their own. They’re designed to appear together. Often they are created in one piece.

What’s Next

I hope you’ve enjoyed this look into 1912 clothing planning. Next we’ll take a little jump in years and plan a Twenties Capsule Wardrobe.

The Creative Corner · Vintage Fashion · Vintage Sewing

Create a 1910s Capsule Wardrobe

VintageJenny
Three women stand in a 1912 fashion illustration. The background is shades of light orange and black. The one on the left stands in a long skirt and suit coat. In the middle the woman stands with her purse hanging in front of her, also in a suit and skirt. The third soman wears a long coat theat looks like a coverall. All of them are drawn in black and white.
Either of the suits pictured here, left and center, would form a great foundation for a 1910s capsule wardrobe

Last time, we talked about the concept of the original capsule wardrobe. You can find that post here. If you love the time of the Titanic through the First World War, you can create a stunning 1910s capsule wardrobe. Your collection can be as authentic or as inauthentic as you like. 

Fashion changed quite a bit in the middle of the Teens. Before 1915 your 1910s capsule wardrobe will look like the fashions of the Titanic or Downton Abbey. After 1915, however, your wardrobe will look more like a World War I recruitment poster. Make a skirt and blouse from white, with simple lines, and you have a Suffragette costume using either half of the decade. 

Suppose you want a wardrobe that emphasizes the first half of the decade. All the photos in this post come from 1912 and 1913 Good Housekeeping fashion pages. Unless you have access to a fashion historian on a regular basis, anything you create in the 1912-13 two-year span will work well together. 

First The Foundation

For these outfits you will probably need a foundation garment like a 1910s corset. If you don’t, your shape is amazing and I wish I was still built like that. I need a corset. 

You can find illustrations of corset patterns and draft them up to your size. I don’t have that kind of patience for fitting a corset, so I bought the 1913-1921 corset from Scroop Patterns. It’s close enough to 1912 for what I need, and it goes through 1920, which is one of my greatest loves in fashion history. So it matches almost everything I’d need in a corset.

Creating Your Capsule

Let’s start with a suit. That was a very 1912 thing to wear, and it provides a great foundation for the rest of your wardrobe. So you select one of the two suits in the top illustration. They are both attractive, flattering, and they have great skirts with them. 

Now you have your suit. Skirt and Jacket. Choose a color. Let’s say dark blue. You, of course, can choose any color you like. Depending on the season, black, green, brown, maroon, unbleached linen, and yellow were all popular colors. But we are going to start with a dark conservative blue. For one reason, it’s easy to find fabrics to match or blend with it. We have one jacket, and one skirt. 

Next we need to add another skirt to add some variety. It should be in a color to harmonize with the jacket, either another shade of blue or the same shade as before. It can be the same or a different fabric. 

Fashion drawing from 1912. Four women sit in a room drinking tea. One of them sits behind a tea cart. Another stands next to her. Seated on the other side of the standing woman, someone holds her tea cup at a precarious angle. The fourth woman sits on the end, engaged in embroidery with her teacup and saucer balanced on her knee.
The dark skirt pictured here would make a great second skirt. And look at those blouses!

The dark skirt pictured here would be perfect. It has an easy construction but looks very different from either of the suit skirts above.

Blousing around

Now that we have two bottoms we need some tops. Any of the blouses pictured in the illustration above would work, but the two white blouses offer more versatility. Both of them would fit under one of the suit jackets. Let’s keep looking.

Four blouses illustrated. Each one is in white with embroidered trim. 1912.
Any of these could finish off a wardrobe quite nicely.

This illustration offers five different blouses, and four of them would work. You could include the embroidery, or not. The needlework does finish the blouses nicely, but it might make them a bit too memorable for a classic interchangeable wardrobe. The fifth blouse, with the apron held in place by the belt, won’t work with the suit unless the apron detaches from the shoulders somehow. Then you would get two blouses for the work of making one. 

Choose three of the six possible tops. Now you have two bottoms, three tops, and a jacket.

With the skirts and blouses alone you have six possible outfits. Add the jacket to each one and that makes twelve. You will have a very respectable Titanic-era wardrobe with just a few pieces.

Finding Your Look

Paging through magazines like Good Housekeeping, Ladies’ Home Journal, Woman’s Home Companion, the Delineator and the like can lead you to all kinds of design ideas for your chosen era. Examples of these magazines live on Google Books and the Internet Archive.

Once you have an idea what you like, put it together with a six piece wardrobe like the one discussed above. You can always add to it later. In fact, that’s the subject of the next post. Stay tuned for 1910s Wardrobe Accessories.

Poems from the Pages · The Magazine Rack

Poem: Humanity from 1874

VintageJenny
Two boys conspire to reach the doughnuts in a 1920s cupboard. The doughnuts sit in a large pottery bowl on the top shelf. A boy in a red and white sailor suit holds his younger brother, dressed in blue, on his shoulder. The younger boy is reaching up to grab a doughnut or two from the bowl.

Today’s poem, Humanity, from 1874, is by Harriet Bush Ewell. You may remember the first Bush family poem I wrote about, called October. Although Harriet had fewer poems published than her older sister Belle, you can see with Humanity that she also had a gift for rhyme.

Harriet lived and worked at Belvedere Seminary in New Jersey. The school accepted students from kindergarten through graduation. It offered all customary subjects plus some extras. At one time the school even had an astronomy instructor on staff. Harriet taught music. Her two older sisters ran the school.

Wedding bells

On June 23, 1870, Harriet married Belvidere Seminary’s mathematics teacher, Arthur Ewell. She was about 33 years old. Arthur was six years younger. The wedding capped a three-day anniversary celebration for the school. June 21 and 22 focused on the student’s achievements, with an address to close the celebration by suffragist Elizabeth Cady Stanton. The next day the celebration continued with wedding and cake. The newlyweds spent the rest of their careers and lives working at the school, leaving it more than 30 years later.

Harriet was a Spiritualist, and Belvidere Seminary was a Spiritualist school for children. Spiritualism became a cultural phenomenon a little after she was born, and she and her two much older sisters spent their lives as Spiritualists dedicated to teaching the younger generations.

After the school closed, Harriet accompanied her husband and her sister to New York, where they settled at a Shaker Community. Her sister Belle officially joined the Shakers before she died. However, it seems that Harriet and Arthur never did, although they lived in the community and were active participants. (The Shaker Museum Facebook page discusses

Her poem Humanity was specifically written for the Spiritualist publication Banner of Light. It was published in December of 1874.

Humanity

Humanity
by Hattie (Harriet) Bush Ewell

Each life on the earth is a poem,
  A volume of measure and rhyme,
With pages of truth and of beauty,
  With stanzas both grand and sublime.

Each deed is a line from that poem,
  The record of glory or shame,
That leads to a beautiful moral,
  Or covers with sorrow the name.

The chapters are wonderful stories,
  Of love, of unkindness, of hate,
Of the soul in its struggle for freedom
  Through many a battle with fate.

The leaves of this book have a gilding
  From the gold of a beautiful life;
How sad that they ever are tarnished
  By the fingers of envy and strife.

The type is full often illumined
  By the smiles of the good and the true;
And each year we may add to our treasure
  Some pages both charming and new.

This is the only poem by Harriet I could find. Her description of each life as a poem, tinged with gold, added a positive note to the day. I hope to discover more, dated later than 1875, to see how she matured as a poet.

If you enjoyed this poem Humanity from 1874, you might also enjoy Harriet’s sister Belle’s book of poetry, Voices of the Morning.

The Creative Corner · Vintage Fashion · Vintage Sewing

Capsule Wardrobe Concept

VintageJenny

For quite awhile I’ve been intrigued by the capsule wardrobe concept. Not because it’s such a new idea, but because it isn’t. The capsule wardrobe arose from necessity rather than fashion.

The term Capsule Wardrobe first appeared in the late 1930s and resurfaced in London during the 70s. A London boutique owner hit on it as a marketing term, and it took off for a second time. Here’s the Wikipedia article about it, in case you’re interested.

Original Capsule Wardrobe

The concept behind the original capsule wardrobe was simple. Two skirts, three blouses, one jacket, perhaps a pair of shorts for summertime, and you’re ready for a season of clothing. It reduced clothing planning to the bare minimum. It saved closet space. And most important of all, it saved money over purchasing readymade clothing that did not match.

Pattern envelope from the 1960s showing a possible coordinated capsule wardrobe. Six women pose in a variation of dresses, tops and skirts, with and without coats or jackets.
Although it’s not in the greatest condition, this 1965 pattern envelope shows the 1940s idea of the capsule wardrobe.

The Great Depression was in full swing in 1938 and finding the money for new seasonal clothes proved difficult if not impossible. Fabric was expensive, and in the Forties due to the war effort, somewhat scarce. Clothing costs soared after WWI, and had dropped again by 1923, but not to the prices consumers had seen in the 1910s. Families could see that clothing was becoming more and more expensive. And once the Depression hit, money to buy that clothing might be nearly nonexistent. What was a family to do?

The answer was to plan a seasonal capsule wardrobe. Several pieces of clothing made from one long piece of fabric saved on fabric usage, for one thing. Any leftover scraps of the material could be fashioned into a matching hat or purse, a definite plus. Leftover blouse material could line the hat, the purse, or be fashioned into matching handkerchiefs if enough existed. 

Using It Today

Why does the original concept interest us today? For one thing, it’s much smaller than the set of clothing used for the term now. A sample 2020s capsule wardrobe might list three pair of shoes, two skirts, two pair of trousers/pants, one pair of blue jeans, several tops, a dressy blouse or two, one to two dresses, a dressy dress, and one to two purses. That’s not a capsule wardrobe. It’s a full wardrobe created with some planning, what we used to call Wardrobe Planning or a Trousseau.

If you enjoy a specific time in the historic past, you might want a small wardrobe you can wear. A small capsule wardrobe fills that need without breaking the bank or your storage space. But only if you keep it to the bare minimum. 

Take Six Pieces

Of course, if you create a five or six piece capsule wardrobe and decide you want to wear these clothes all the time, you can always increase your pieces. Add a vintage winter coat and perhaps a vintage pair of slacks or bloomers. Pedal pushers were the knee-length capris of the Fifties and Sixties and they’re darling. I remember wearing a pedal pusher outfit of my grandmother’s as a preteen, and feeling beautiful in it.

Pick a time you like, and begin to build an ideal small wardrobe. Take two bottoms, three tops, and something that pulls it all together like a sweater or a jacket. Perhaps a white knitted shawl will work, depending on your time period. If you live in a warm climate your extra piece might be made of sheer fabric. Or it might be physically small, like a bolero vest.

Back to the Sixties

In the photo above, the 1965 home dressmaker could create an entire wardrobe from this one pattern. Let’s say she purchases this pattern and a ton of fabric in four coordinating colors. She buys a blue print, blue solid, yellow print, and a yellow solid. From the blue solid she makes a full dress and a long coat. From the blue print she makes a blouse and skirt. The yellow print gives her a blouse. From the yellow solid she makes a jacket, skirt, and blouse. Now she has three blouses, two skirts, a full dress, and a long blue coat that she can wear with anything. For a bit of extra glamour you could add an extra long coat in yellow, but it’s not necessary. One coat is plenty for a season, especially with a suit jacket that goes over a skirt and blouse.

Whatever you do, pick classic, timeless pieces that you love. If you don’t love it you won’t wear it. The whole point of the vintage capsule wardrobe concept is to allow you to dip into time-period fashion as much or as little as you like. 

Next time, we’ll talk about creating a simple 1910s Capsule Wardrobe.

Short Stories · The Magazine Rack

A Subway Romance: Conclusion

VintageJenny

Welcome to Part III and “A Subway Romance” conclusion. Here in A Subway Romance: Conclusion we will learn what happens to Nick. Does he throw it all away and go to Cuba? He has the money saved up for it. The Great Depression is still five years off. He could feed his wanderlust by closing his news stand and living the roaming life.

When we left Nick and his vagabond friend Shorty, they had just finished breakfast over the campfire at the Brooklyn waterfront. If you missed that section, you can find it here. To start at the beginning of the tale, begin here.

The conclusion

They strolled to a railway station, skulking along the outskirts of the crowd. They walked on through the switch yards. A truckload of baggage crowded them against a moving freight. As Nick cringed and stepped aside he felt a nudge at his elbow.

“S’long,” muttered Shorty, as he swung aboard.

“S’long,” answered Nick.

Nick hurried to the nearest railway station. It was late. He would be losing his brisk eight o’clock trade.

Dreaming on the train

Once aboard the Broadway train, however, he was lost in a dream of palm bordered roadways, of Pampas plains and tropic seas. He created vividly luxurious groves of bananas and breadfruit trees. He imagined how the moon would look shining through a notch of the Andes.

Nick came to with a start, as the crowds pushed on and off at Times Square. He moved nearer the door so as to be ready for his station. He would send his resignation in to the news agency right away. They would have no trouble getting a man for his place. Only one more dy at the stand. Tomorrow he would be free.

The train jerked to a stop.

Reaching the news stand

Nick separated himself from the crowd and went up to unlock the news stand. He was startled to see that the windows were open, and the morning papers arranged in orderly piles. He looked in across the papers and saw a curly dark head over an open magazine. Looking closer he served large gold earrings and long-lashed eyes.

He leaned over the counter.

“What––what did you do with the Gipsy dress?” he asked.

The girl started and then blushed.

“How did you know me?” she asked.

“I’d have known you in––South America,” babbled Nick. “But it’s great to fid you here. How did you get into the news stand?”

“By the door. Isn’t that the way you get into yours?”

“Into mine? Mine? Why––isn’t this mine?” Nick stared wildly.

“This is Seventy-second Street,” laughed the girl. “Did you think you were home?”

Nick looked at the huge sign, foolishly.

“My––I––” He wanted to say that his heart must have directed him here. “But what did you do with the Gipsy shawl and everything?” he blurted.

The shawl

“Oh, I want to explain to you,” said the girl. “They’re my grandmother’s. I wore them to an autumn pageant one day, when I danced a Gipsy dance. And when I came back I was very busy dreaming, and I got off at the wrong station. I––I felt rather free and reckless in my Gipsy togs. So when I saw a strange, dreamy-eyed man where I thought my news stand was going to be, I––I’m afraid I acted very silly and––nervy. I––apologize. But, it was the costume, really. And, of course, I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“I wonder what her name is,” mused Nick, as he arranged his papers, uncovered the candy and gum, and dusted the magazines. He was an hour late, but the thought failed to worry him.

The crowds surged up and down stairways and crossed and recrossed between local and express. Nick saw them not. Trains shrieked and bellowed, but he did not hea.r His lean hands juggled change or reached down a magazine from the rack behind him. His eyes were on the gray subway arch, and he was smiling at the memory of a brown roofed cottage he had seen once, away up at the end of the subway near Van Courtland Park.

His mind was busy adding a few fanciful details, among them an open wood fire and a dark-haired girl beside it, wearing a Gipsy shawl. He would be able to get home by nine o-clock in the evenings, and sh would come to meet him down a grassy little bystreet bordered with poplars. The wind would ripple the poplar leaves softly, and sometimes there would be a moon shining through a notch between the trees.

The End

This is the end of A Subway Romance Conclusion. I hope you enjoyed reading this very typical example of a magazine short story. These stories appeared in almost every magazine of the time. Stories sold magazines. I’m sure, after reading A Subway Romance to its conclusion, you can understand why.

You may also be interested in reading Cinderella’s Confession, an advertisement from 1919 that changed advertising when it mimicked the popular magazine short story.

Short Stories · The Magazine Rack

A Subway Romance Part II

VintageJenny
A young woman stands next to a newspaper stand in this 1924 illustration. People stream behind her. Most of them are men in suits, overcoats, and hats.
The young womanl stands among the bustle of the New York subway tunnel.

When we last left our dreamer Nick, he had just met an intriguing girl at his newsstand in the New York subway system. If you missed the first section of the story, you can locate it here. Now we continue with “A Subway Romance,” Part II.

The story continues…

Her voice was rich and low, with a kind of sighing lilt in it. She seemed not to have seen the price labels.

She bought two nut bars and slipped them into a bag at her side, while Nick tried futilely to think of something to say. It had been a long time since he had indulged in social small talk. At last he found himself commenting upon the coolness of the weather and urging her to try some of the whipped creams.

The Gipsy shook her head. Her red lips smiled. Nick caught a tantalizing gleam between long lashes and stood staring helplessly as she walked away. When he had recovered his wits sufficiently to crawl out of the low side door and go to look for her she had disappeared in the crowd. Nick ran up the stairs and down. He plunged frantically into the floods of passengers streaming from local to express and from express to local. He returned to his stall flushed and baffled, and found two customers thrusting coins over the magazine counter, with no pair of hands there to return the change.

After this Nick began to look at the people around him instead of gazing dreamily at the subway vault. He began to grow vaguely dissatisfied with his life, yet unwilling to break away for one of his vagrant adventures. A wan loneliness possessed him, such as he had never known in the most isolated country places; and still he felt loath to desert his subway stand. He studied the faces that streamed past him and began to experience a faint thrill of satisfaction at discovering some of the same ones day after day. Often he watched hopefully for a flash of the Gipsy’s crimson shawl. But he watched in vain. Her voice had broken the spell of his long silence, her wild beauty had stirred the sluggish pool of his content, and then she had swept on, lost in the seething current of the subway crowds.

An old friend resurfaces

One night, a week after the Gipsy passed, Nick saw a familiar face peering in at him. It was a loose-mouthed, heavy-jawed face with no self discipline. In a flash of recollection Nick recognized this man. They had bunked together in a slum hotel in San Francisco. Nick usually avoided the out and out hoboes. Shorty had been more congenial than most of his kind. In Nick’s present mood the familiar face was welcome.

“Hello, Shorty,” said Nick.

“H’ar ye, Bo,” grinned Shorty sticking his hand in across the newspapers.

When Nick closed the stand that night Shorty was waiting for him. They had lunch at a hot tamale wagon down in Christopher Street and they sat on a park bench and watched the moon edging over the roofs while Shorty told of his wanderings. Again Nick felt the pull of vagabondage. His mind raced out along an Arizona canyon slivered with moonlight. He heard the sough of the pines, the murmur of prairie grasses, the trickle of water beside a pitch-pine campfire. He crumpled a sooty park leaf in his fingers, and longed for the smell of sage and resin.

Catching up

Nick only half heard the marvelous tale that Shorty related with profane emphasis. He was planning to pack the battered suitcase that lay covered with dust under the cot in his hall bedroom, planning to chuck the news stand and the rewards of a regular income. He had thought of it vaguely before, but the force of habit and the weekly check had held him. But tonight, with the moon rising over the roofs and Shorty chuckling at his elbow, his business acumen had sunk to almost a minus quantity.

Why had he stuck there for the last two years? he asked himself. He had money now, enough to take him to Cuba, to South America, though he had never thought of saving it for that purpose. Well, he was ready at last to leave the noisy glare of his burrow. He had hoarded his savings senselessly like a blind mole storing away food. He had watched the trains pass long enough. He had watched millions of faces without hearing a voice or touching a hand. Restless feet had surged past him, day after day, and he had quietly stuck to his cage, pushing out papers and picking up change.

Yet, under all his eager planning, there lurked a poignant regret. More than he would admit, he had hoped that the Gipsy girl might return sometime and smile and speak to him over the candy counter. It was she who had aroused him from his strange lethargy. But he had a persistent intuition that he would miss her, out along the open trails, for in spite of her Gipsy dress she had seemed a creature of the town. At the thought of missing her, Nick’s heart sank, and his bold resolution ebbed like water.

At water’s edge

“Guess we’d better move on somewheres.” Shorty’s arm was around Nick’s shoulders. Shorty’s corncob pipe was unpleasantly near Nick’s nose. Nick looked up and saw a policeman moored in the offing, swinging his club a shade ostentatiously. They moved on. Over on the Brooklyn waterfront they lighted a driftwood fire. Nick stretched on the ground beside it, unmindful of the fact that his suit had just been cleaned and pressed. In spite of the cheering blaze the wind crept up with a little nagging chill, and Shorty made a tour of investigation along a row of warehouses and returned with a dirty horse blanket. They crept under it together, after arranging some empty boxes to protect themselves and their fire. Nick sniffed the smell of the water and stared blissfully up at the stars.

He heard the waves lapping against the pier, and his drowsy wits went roving. South America, Cuba. Long roads that he had never traveled, blue seas that he had never crossed. Perhaps China and Japan a little later. Strange cities, far ports. That would be his way of life. He rejoiced at the thought of the money he had laid by. When that was gone he would work again, and then he would go on. What had he been thinking of, to sit dreaming behind a counter? He felt a sudden contempt for the Sunday afternoon hikes he had taken around Manhattan, the holiday excursions up in the Bronx. He laughed as he remembered his nonsense about that Gipsy girl.

Shorty stirred sleepily.

“What’s the joke, Bo?” he inquired.

“Nothin’. Jest a-dreamin’, I guess,” murmured Nick.

A new morning

It seemed only a few minutes until he turned on his side and peered out at the sky, reddening beyond the warehouses. Shorty had kept the fire going and Nick felt warm, even with the wind blowing up stronger from the water.

They boiled their coffee in an empty Karo can, munched sandwiches, and watched the bay flashing like a vast opal under the morning sun. Ships crept up the harbor, ferry boats steered a resolute course, motor boats chugged erratically about.

To be continued…

Find out what happens after “A Subway Romance,” Part II. Look for Part III, which brings an end to the tale.

This is a typical Twenties short story. These tales sold magazines by the thousands for a good many years. Sometimes they were serialized, and then released in book form. Often, though, they appeared like this: short, single tales that transported the reader to a different place, time, or situation.

Short Stories · The Magazine Rack

Short Story: A Subway Romance

VintageJenny
A 1924 illustration of a woman, dressed in a blouse and skirt, stands before a news stand, gesturing. A dark shawl hangs over her skirt, knotted at the hip, and she wears a silk handkerchief on her head. Illustration from the short story A Subway Romance.
“How much are the chocolate bars?”

Today’s short story, “A Subway Romance” appeared in The American Needlewoman in December, 1924. Written by Rose Henderson, this story is in the public domain. Henderson was an accomplished writer whose stories appeared in several of the story-printing publications of the day.

Keep in mind that this is an antique story, posted as it was written. It is a product of its time. It may contain terms and ideas that we find outdated or offensive. For ease of reading the story will appear here as a three part series. This is Part I of the short story, “A Subway Romance”.

A Subway Romance

To the New York crowds pushing and swirling through the Ninety-Sixth Street subway station, the man in the glass-windowed stall behind the candy, newspapers and magazines was hardly more human than the penny-in-the-slot weighing machines, or the chewing gum boxes with dirty mirrors at their tops and a row of coin slots below. He seemed like another mechanical convenience, a pair of hands that made change deftly or reached down a magazine that somebody pointed out. In the noisy, garish gloom of the subway station people pointed at what they wanted a good deal of the time, or they merely threw down their money and took their choice.

Nick Barnes had arranged his stall to suit the haste and directness of his customers, who, in their turn, were mere marionettes to him. With thousands whirling past him, hour after hour, it was seldom indeed that anyone spoke. They knew the prices of their favorite magazines; and the packages of chewing gum and candy in the pasteboard boxes bore conspicuous price labels. Conversation with the man behind the wares was a needless waste of time and energy. They didn’t even look at him. Rushing from local to express, and from express to local, they saw only his ands and the things he sold.

Even if they waited hectically before his booth watching for the Bronx express to come shrieking in, they looked at the magazine covers and read the newspaper headlines. And their impersonal attitude seemed natural enough to Nick. He was equally indifferent to the crowd, though often lonely for a real friend.

Dreaming in the subway

If anyone had paused to study the face above the deft hands he would have been surprised at the dreamy remoteness of Nick’s long, brown eyes. Looking out over the stampeding crowds, Nick saw strange and remote scenes blossom into life down the dim arch of the subway tunnel. He saw, for instance, a pine-shaded trail leading through the Rocky Mountains, an oil-packed automobile road bordered with lupin and California poppies, a golden expanse of Dakota wheat fields, a sloping-roofed farmhouse, gray with rain. The pictures were dim and elusive, to be sure, but they held Nick’s mind with a kind of placid enchantment while his hands gathered in the pennies for papers and chewing gum.

He had always possessed this facility of detachment, of living in places far remote from his real surroundings. It was a source of much pacific enjoyment, though as a rule the tranquility was broken, sooner or later, by a sudden fling at actual adventuring.

There were boyish wanderings when he deserted the slant-roofed farmhouse and the school across the fields. At first they were one-day excursions, a fishing tour up Gipson’s creek, or blissful idleness in the great meadow behind his father’s barns. For hours at a time he would lie in the clover, looking up at the clouds that flocked across a midsummer sky. Then came the insistent wanderlust of his early manhood and his tramp from Kansas to California, his season in a fisherman’s deserted shack on the Pacific Coast, his gold-hunting period in Alaska.

Singurlarly, his love for the open road was balanced by an almost equal delight in sheltered seclusion. Sometime he had always returned to the old farmhouse, loitered through the grassy orchard, loped along the meadow, helped with the work for a time and then went on again, down the long hill to the main highway, out through the grain-covered prairies to the little town where he took the train, if he happened to have money enough, traveled to a strange neighborhood, worked, dreamed, and traveled on.

Moving to New York

In one of these home visits he found his mother stricken with a sudden severe illness. The doctors recommended a New York specialist. Nick had a little money saved from his Alaska venture. He had always adored his mother. So the two came to New York, she to linger for a year in the specialist’s sanitarium, and Nick to sit dreaming in the underground world of the subway station. She had been dead for two years. Still Nick stayed on, seldom stopping to wonder at his strange docility, only half alive to the swirling activity that isolated his retreat.

But just as it seemed that the city’s intricate energy had caught him like a dazed gnat in the corner of a gigantic web, the latent wanderlust stirred within him. He looked at the pushing mobs and longed to escape them. He became conscious of the narrow confines of this booth and felt foolishly imprisoned. The pictures of his fancy still wavered confusedly along the subway vault, but they no longer soothed him to passivity.

Colors of October

It was a day in early October when the awakening came. The magazine covers were aglow with autumn colors. Women were wearing furs for warmth instead of for style only. The wind blew fresh from the river in the early morning when Nick left his fiurnished room and went down to unlock the news stand. The air in the subway was heavy and chilling. Nick sat humped on his stool behind the candy boxes, skimming through an adventure story. The trains shrieked and clanged and roared through their black-walled caverns. Lights flashed and glared. The crowds poured up and down stairways, pushed in and out of iron doors, swirled about the windows of Nick’s booth, threw down coins for candy or reading matter and swept away, dissolving continually into new eddies and currents.

Nick closed the magazine and remembered the frost-covered leaves around his camp in a Canada forest. He looked up at the subway roof where his memories visualized most effectively, but his eyes were caught by the flare of a crimson sash like a bit of gay foliage in the dark masses of the crowd. It was a Gipsy shawl, worn about lithe hips and knotted at the side. A yellow blouse, a brown skirt, brown stockings and moccasins completed the costume, with a red silk handkerchief forming a cap set jauntily over curly dark hair. The girl was strikingly handsome in the garish costume, with huge gold rings in her ears. She returned Nick’s stare with a keen, level glance that make him flush self consciously.

Then she stepped in front of the little piles of gum and candy.

“How much are the chocolate bars?” she asked.

To be continued…

This short story, “A Subway Romance,” will be continued. Watch for the next installment. Discover what happens with Nick in the short story A Subway Romance.

Browse through another issue of The American Needlewoman at the Internet Archive.