The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe of Vintage Clothes

IMG_20160108_161656067.jpg

This week, I’ve been mostly marking essays from my undergraduate module Origins and Developments of Children’s Literature. Actually, I’ve been mostly marking essays about C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (1950) because the majority of the class are completely fixated on the book and want to write about it. Which is no bad thing really.[1]

I’ve done a lot of research about C.S. Lewis, particularly into in his use of landscape and the role that his memories of Ireland and his relationship with Ireland play in his fiction. I’ve given a couple of talks about his work and there was a brief time when I thought I might write my next book about his Narnia series. But then I got distracted by Victorian children’s books and the possibilities of archvies I’ve had to put Narnia aside for another day….

But I still get to lecture about Lewis and Narnia every year which is some compensation.

The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe was published in 1950 though it was conceived of rather earlier. Lewis wrote to a friend in 1948 to say he was working on a children’s story “in the tradition of E Nesbit” and in his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, he notes that the image of the faun in the snow had come to him when he was a teenager. But the story is set during World War II and it bears the marks of its wartime setting throughout.

Several critics have noted the influence of rationing on the story. Judy Rosenbaum observes that the meal Lucy shares with Mr Tumnus

“is not, it would seem, a feast befitting a wondrous kingdom. Yet meals of this simple, hearty variety abound in Narnia. One reason might be that as Lewis wrote the Narnian Chronicles, England was still living under stringent wartime/postwar food rationing. Every English child would have savored reading about these meals.”[2]

But the description of the meal doesn’t just make it seem like a wonderful treat in the midst of rationing, it also suggests that there’s something very odd about Mr Tumnus. The meal he provides for Lucy is almost totally comprised of items that were rationed and were increasingly hard to come by. So, the tea may even hint that there is something sinister about Mr Tumnus. Is he a black-marketer? Does this luxury and abundance come from his alliance with the White Witch?

But the aspect of rationing that interests me is clothes rationing.

Clothes rationing  came into effect in Britain in 1941. There are numerous  blogs about vintage fashion that cover the topic. Lucky Lucille has a fantastic round up of links about different aspects of rationingand The History Girls have some brilliant resources, including a review of the Imperial War Museum’s “Fashion on the Ration” exhibition.  One of the best things I’ve stumbled across is a radio show called “Harry and Edna on the Wireless” which combines old-timey tunes with up-to-date chats about the vintage scene: this episode features an interview with Laura Clouting, the curator of the “Fashion on the Ration” exhibition, and historian Julie Summers (who has her own wonderful blog here).

Clothes were so strictly rationed that, as Laura Clouting points out, a new outfit was seen as something you saved up for, a ‘dream’ purchase for some future after the war ended.[3]

large

Plan Your Future, Save with a plan, 1945 poster: Art.IWM PST 16368 Taken from http://www.iwm.org.uk/history/8-facts-about-clothes-rationing-in-britain-during-the-second-world-war

 

Clothes play an essential part in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe – they help to describe character and they shape relationships between characters. The children enter Narnia through a wardrobe (which is full of fur coats and mothballs).

Pauline Baynes illustration from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

illustration by Pauline Baynes

So, for the most recent lecture on C.S. Lewis and The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, I decided to focus on the role clothing plays in the text.

 

In the seminar on Lewis and Narnia, I put up the clothing allowances and the number of coupons allocated to each item and ask students to add up how many coupons their outfits would have cost them.

There are always gasps of horror and giggles as we realise how prodigal our attitudes to clothing have become. There’s usually an argument about why dresses should ‘cost’ more than trousers and why men’s shoes have to cost more than women’s shoes, regardless of the size. Most of this year’s group were either cutting it fine or well over the rationed allowance (wearing socks over a pair of tights was a particular extravagance). One student this year had an outfit that ‘cost’ 60 coupons – more than a whole year’s ration. And then there’s always the moment that the realisation sinks in…no more new clothes for a whole year.

Always winter, never Christmas.

Which makes clothes in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe all the more interesting.

Think about the wonderful new clothes bestowed on the children when they reach Aslan’s camp. Or think about the luxurious furs worn by the White Witch and the weight and warmth of the mantle she drapes over Edmund.

Clothes also reveal much about the characters in the story. For instance, Mr Tumnus’ dual nature is show by the contrast between his bare torso (his Pan-like wildness) and the red scarf muffling his throat (his essential domesticity).

In terms of rationing, we can look to the Beavers:

At the Beavers’ house, Mrs Beaver is busy sewing when the children arrive. Like the freshly-prepared meal that nourishes the children, sewing is a sign of a deeper trustworthiness. It’s a sign that the Beavers, unlike Mr Tumnus or Jadis, are frugal and are willing to make do and mend. Though they are Narnians, the Beavers adhere to the codes of food and fashion the children are familiar with from war-time England.[5]

And so to the wardrobe of war-time clothes…

When I visited the archives at the Imperial War Museum I found a bundle of knitting patterns. Some of them were terrible – things that could only be made for a joke, or for a post-apocalyptic horror movie where there’s no heating and fashion has been murdered in its sleep. But other patterns had the potential to pass as real garments and I planned to make a couple of them. The first one I made was a land girl’s pullover.

But then other projects and other archives grabbed my attention and I didn’t really think about the possible projects from the IWM for a long time.

Then in Autumn I heard that twin-sets were back.

I’m now pretty certain that this is a lie but the internet did a pretty good job of persuading me twin-sets were, indeed, THE thing to wear this winter. And I was pretty sure that Peggy Carter would be everyone’s idea of a style icon and I was certain that a twin-set would be just the ticket.

And so I turned to my notes and rediscovered this thing of magnificent and hideous beauty.

WP_20150822_001.jpg

Striped Twin-set from Vogue’s 20th Knitting Book

Just look at those shoulders!

This striped twin-set is from Vogue’s 20th Knitting book. I don’t have an exact publication date but the advertisement for Sandisons Real Shetland Yarns printed to the right of the pattern makes reference to coupons so I know it was published while rationing was still in effect.

 

IMG_20160108_161921093

This issue and several other issues of Vogue were used in the Imperial War Museum’s “Fashion on the Ration” exhibition.

The original pattern calls for 12oz of Sirdar Super Shetland 3-ply in dark green and 3oz of the same in light green. After a bit of research[6] I found out there was approximately 140 yards to the ounce of this yarn. It’s unavailable now so I cast on in Mabel and Ivy’s Supersoft 2-ply (Prussian blue because green makes me look like I need a lot of sleep and a generous amount of rouge). The Supersoft is rapidly becoming my go-to yarn for vintage projects.

Because I hate seaming, I decided to cast on the back and fronts together and knit them as a single piece. This didn’t seem to affect the overall width of the cardigan. The pattern suggests that it’s for a 34’’ bust but there is a lot of ease and the shape of the body (increasing gradually in width from the waistband to the underarms) leads to a very generous fit.

The pattern instructions are here. The magazine is laid out very strangely so I’ve had to use several images to reproduce the pattern. If you follow them in order, all should be well.

 

Modifications

Needles: I could not get gauge using the needles suggested in the pattern so I went down a couple of sizes. The ribbing was worked with a 2.5mm needle and the stocking-stitch worked with a 2.75mm needle.

Sleeves: I’ve had problems with the sleeves on vintage patterns before so I decided to add an extra half inch to the suggested length for the sleeves.

Buttonholes: The original pattern suggests adding buttonholes where needed as you knit but I wanted to try on the finished cardigan first before I decided how many buttons to use or where to place them. So I decided to add buttonholes afterwards as part of a buttonband. Once I had the cardigan finished I tried it on and marked where I wanted buttons with safety pins.

Button band: I don’t hate myself and so I decided not the follow the pattern for the buttonband (which suggests casting on six stitches and knitting back and forward until you have a strip long enough to face the entire edge of the cardigan). I picked up stitches with the 2.5mm needle and worked in K1P1 rib for 7 rows, adding button holes in the 3rd/4th row, before casting off in rib.

Shoulders: When I tried on the finished cardigan I realised that it was designed for someone with a serious addiction to shoulder-pads. As you can see from the photos above, it looks like it’s falling off my shoulders and I am losing the effect of that lovely high sleeve cap. I either have to invest in some shoulder pads or I will need to put a couple of stitches in the top of the sleeve to secure the sleeve cap in place and give the effect of narrowing the shoulders without having to rip back or fold the fabric. Will experiment and update.

Pocket Flaps: I haven’t made these yet – I’m waiting to see if I have yarn left over from the sweater before I do anything rash.

Next up – half a dozen other vintage projects including trying to cook from William Morris’s recipe file, knitting from a 19th century lace pattern for Glasgow University’s Knitting in the Round Project, and my part in Roehampton University’s bran-new Archiving Childhood Project. And making the jumper for this twin-set!

***

[1] I secretly yearn for the day when Maria Edgeworth is given her due as a clever, forward-thinking writer of children’s books and is the star of a whole batch of undergraduate essays. Though it’s hard when she’s up against Lewis in the module. Lessons about logic and managing the household budget just aren’t as thrilling as talking lions. Pity.

[2] Judy Rosenbaum. “Critical Approaches to Food in Children’s Literature (review).” Children’s Literature Association Quarterly 34.3 (2009): 297-299. Project MUSE. Web. 8 Jan. 2016. <https://muse.jhu.edu/&gt;.

[3] http://www.iwm.org.uk/history/8-facts-about-clothes-rationing-in-britain-during-the-second-world-war

[4] Plan Your Future, Save with a plan, 1945 poster: Art.IWM PST 16368 Taken from http://www.iwm.org.uk/history/8-facts-about-clothes-rationing-in-britain-during-the-second-world-war

If you’re more interested in the style than the history, I’d recommend Mrs. Fox’s Finery and Tuppence Ha’penny Vintage  which have numerous posts about vintage clothes, makeup, and hair which are very useful for all vintage enthusiasts and really just lovely to look at too.

[5] Though it is worth noting that the Pevensies are wearing fur coats when they arrive at the Beavers’ house. In WWII many fur coats were made of beaver-skin so I’m always a little curious as to what the Beavers really think about their fur-clad visitors.

[6] For ‘research’ in this instance read “creative Googling”

Me Made May – the halfway line & the fabric dreams are made on…

So, I’ve passed the halfway mark of my very first Me Made May.  I know this veers away slightly from the old books and vintage crafts remit of the blog but, trust me, by the end of the post we’ll be back in familiar territory.

I’m not one for instagram or millions of photos of myself so I haven’t been recording the day-by-day stuff online.  I’ve made some discoveries though:

  • I have only two pairs of hand-made socks. I make a lot of socks. All the socks I make are for Karl. This is probably an injustice.
  • Me Made November would be kinder for knitters. Many of the sewn items I’ve made are very summery and I haven’t been able to wear any of the tops because the weather is stupid.
  • I have made a lot of things that don’t suit me. Why did I make them? What was I thinking? Some genius put me on to Wardrobe Architect which might actually lead to me sorting out what I actually want to wear and planning projects properly.
  • I buy a lot of fat quarters.
  • Fat quarters are not as useful as I often believe them to be.
  • I have a lot of buttons.

But so far it’s been an interesting and oddly productive month.

First off – I won something! East London Knits were holding a May Day giveaway.  And I made out like a bandit.  Look at all this!

There are seven skeins of yarn – two laceweight in pale yellow, two laceweight in blue, and three DK-weight skeins of undyed silky lovely stuff. I’m not sure what it will become yet but I am thinking about lace projects and I’m toying around with a new design…

And on May 1st I started working on the Ginny cardigan which has been in my Ravelry queue since the dawn of time. Or at least since it was published. Same thing.

And so…to vintage crafts….

Yesterday I went on a lardy-cake eating, fabric-buying adventure to Witney where I found this:

WP_20150517_001

I know it doesn’t look like much but it is the fabric for my Victorian Walking Jacket.  I first blogged about the jacket months and months ago and since then I’ve been looking for the right fabric. This purpley-auberginey stripey fabric is the stuff dreams, or at least Victorian jackets, are made of. I was restrained through. I even made myself soak it first.  Which was a good thing because huge amounts of dye came out of it.

WP_20150516_004

The next step is to get hold of lining, piping, nerves of steel and huge amounts of tea and start making. That might be next weekend’s project…

And so to old books….

Tomorrow, I’m taking part in a short film about the University of Roehampton’s brand new collection of very old children’s books. The film will be part of our big announcement about the collection and I’ve a blog piece all about it ready to post as soon as I get the go-ahead!

In the meantime, here’s a sneaky peek of the collection:

Some day I will sit in the archive wearing my Victorian jacket and telling everyone who strays within earshot about my research. And because of my mighty sleeves and exquisite piping details, they won’t be able to get away.  It will happen. Soon.

***

Southlands, Scrapbooks and Sad Mittens

Yesterday I went on an Expotition to the Southlands archive at the University of Roehampton.  This was an enormous undertaking because Southlands is technically another college (I work at Digby Stuart and we have a cat called Digby).

Digby. Who is awesome.

Digby. Who is awesome.

Sometimes when I’m working in my office, Southlands seems enormously far away and getting there involves some hideous effort. You have to go past the duck-pond and everything.

Actually, it’s a walk of about a hundred yards.  And it’s worth it because of the archive.

Part of the archive is kept in a swish glass display case beside the senior common room. I’ve walked past part of the display dozens of times on my way to get tea but I’d never actually got to play with it until yesterday.

Like the other Roehampton colleges, Southlands started out as a teacher training college and many of the items in the archive relate to the kinds of things student teachers were expected to learn. There are some pretty strange things, including a miniature shirt from 1900 (I’m assuming the place was overrun with semi-clad homunculi because I couldn’t find any miniature trousers)

Tiny shirt

Tiny shirt

There are a couple of really lovely stitched samplers and portfolios.  Including a sampler dating back to the 1870s (one of the earliest items in the collection.

And a lovely little scrap-book collection of very fine crochet work.

At the Mary Lamb colloquium at the weekend there was a great discussion as to whether collections of stitchery and needlework portfolio like this one count as commonplace books.  I like the idea that they form a record of your work and that the little pieces might act as material ‘quotes’ that could be used in a larger piece of work.  I really like the idea that textiles can be texts – that both are narratives of a kind.

There are lots of narratives we can tell ourselves about things like this – the history of the production of each of the constituent materials, the dye, the thread, the silk, the cotton, the story about the person who made it, about the person who used it, and the stories about its making…

One of the things that caught my eye every time I passed the little cabinet was this pair of mittens:

They were made in the 1942 by N. Samuel. On closer inspection they appear to be made of an undyed 2-ply wool yarn (maybe fingering-weight but I figure 2-ply is more likely) with a pattern picked out in a slightly slubby brown wool (again I suspect in its natural undyed state).

N. Samuel was not an expert knitter.  And there is a clear difference between the two mittens – not so much in the tension, that’s pretty consistent, but in the tone and the assurance of the work. The cuff of the first mitten is not joined very securely in the round and you can see where N. has joined the round after a couple of back-and-forth rows.

WP_20141202_011

These were obviously a piece to learn on. The second mitten has a much neater cuff.

The same can be said of the intarsia work.  This is the first mitten.

WP_20141202_008

And here is the second:

WP_20141202_007On the second mitten N. has got the hang of colour dominance.

The thumbs improve too but it was really hard to get a photograph of them.

Basically, these mittens tell the story of N. learning how to knit.  They were never worn and they were never made to be worn and, to be honest, I feel a bit sorry for them languishing in their glass case with all the other things that must have taken students such time and effort.  It seems a bit sad that after all the work N. put into them, they were just left behind in the college.

It got me thinking about my own unloved early crafting efforts…the, frankly terrifying, Santa dolly I made in primary school that Mammy still put up with the Christmas decorations even though it look like it was trying to run away from its own face, the wonky pink headband that stretched out of shape in about two minutes, the hideous acrylic purple scarf with extra purple….my early crafting was rubbish.  But it sort of didn’t matter.  Because at the time they was the very best things I could have made.  If I find a picture of the terrible Santa dolly, I’ll post it.  Sometimes I suddenly remember it and burst out laughing.  Sometimes this happens when I’m on the bus or in the library.  This is not so good.

Imperial War Museum Library at risk

i was greatly saddened to hear that the library at the Imperial War Museum is at risk of closure.  The closure would be a great loss.  A loss of jobs.  And a loss of a valuable and unique resource.  Some of you may have read my early posts about my visit to the archives at the IWM and my attempts to make a genuine Land Girl’s pullover from a vintage pattern.  I still have some patterns that I found in that archive that I need to make (including a cardigan dating from WWI – I had intended to get it done by November 11th but well, the best laid plans of mice and men etc.etc.)  Above all, for me, it is about the loss of stories.  The library and archives offer us the opportunity to connect with the past. And while it might seem from the outside that the collections are all about military history the archives contain all sorts of materials about people who had nothing whatsoever to do with the military but whose lives were, nevertheless, affected by war.  There are stories there – stories about children’s letters home, about people trying to make birthday cakes on rations, about people trying to make snazzy jumpers with as little yarn as possible.

And those stories will be lost too if the library closes.

Here’s the information from the press release.  If you want to help with the campaign to save the IWM library, please sign the petition below and spread the word.

4 November 2014

Imperial War Museum staff launch petition to save its library and services

The Imperial War Museum’s Prospect union branch today launched a petition calling on the government to reverse a £4m cut in annual funding, which has left it facing the closure of its unique library and the loss of 80 jobs, just months after the fanfare of IWM London’s reopening following a £40m refurbishment.

The move comes as the museum – the world’s leading authority on conflict – plays its part in marking the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War.

When Prime minister David Cameron reopened the museum in July 2014 he said “When I launched our plans for the First World War centenary, I said that the renovated Imperial War Museum would be the centrepiece of our commemorations. And what a fitting centrepiece this is – a national focal point in which we can all take great pride.

“You have created something fitting and lasting – something of which we can all be proud.”

Prospect negotiator Andy Bye said: “Closing IWM’s library is not a fitting way to mark the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War. IWM aspires to be a highly respected authority on its subject matter, but this will be impossible without a library.”

IWM London’s library acquired its first item in 1917 and has been a vital part of the museum ever since, playing a key role in helping staff do their jobs whether curating exhibitions or helping them to understand and identify artefacts. It also provides members of the public with access to research materials.

The closure has also been proposed of the ever-popular Explore History facility in London. Open seven days a week it allows the public to explore IWM’s collections and find out about objects and subjects not on display. It attracted 55,000 visitors last year.

School educational visits, led by museum and education professionals, to IWM branches at Duxford, HMS Belfast and the Churchill War Rooms are yet another service under threat.

The possibility of closures and cuts comes at a time when demand for all the museum’s services has never been higher: the IWM attracted 433,000 learners in 2013-14 and 256,000 children took part in its on and off-site educational programmes.

“Prospect fears this is only the start and that further damaging cuts are likely,” added Andy.

The petition is at: http://bit.ly/save_IWM

The prime minister’s speech is at www.gov.uk/government/speeches/reopening-of-the-imperial-war-museum-david-camerons-speech

A trip to the archives…

With this year being the 100 year anniversary of World War One I decided to have a look for some vintage patterns from that period. So I set off to the Imperial War Museum for a morning of fun in their archives. The IWM archive has lots of patterns and craft ephemera – boxes and boxes of them – but sadly very few items survive from the First World War.  Partly because ephemera is, well, ephemeral.  Patterns just don’t have a good survival rate.  And let’s be honest, few knitters can keep a pattern in pristine condition for long – we fold them, shove them inside craft bags, write notes for modifications all over them, leave teacups on top of them – and so I wasn’t really surprised to find that most of the really good items in the archive are a little more recent.

After a day playing in the archive boxes, I’ve identified three items I really, really want to make from the IWM Archive.

*Land Girl’s Pullover

*Mystery Cardigan (of which, more later)

*Hideous Twinset

To make life easier, I’m starting with the most sensible of these patterns – the Land Girl’s pullover.  This pattern has the bonus of

*being in my size!

*having a sort of proper gauge!

*having a picture of what it should look like!

I can hardly contain my joy.

More to follow on the history of the Land Girls and their spiffy outfits and my attempts to follow a pattern that is rather vague about things I consider kind of important – like proper instructions…