Second Hand and Vintage in Spain

Here's a little article I wrote about my observations (and assumptions!) on the Spanish attitude towards second hand and vintage things, in particular, clothing. Of course, you may not want to trawl through such a topic, feel free to just look at the pictures, like I do when I look at most magazines! These paps are of another of the charity shop finds that I scored back in UK in August. I wasn't sure about this dress at first as I'm not into the 80's revival, but my mum insisted I try it on, and to my surprise it looked awesome! I've decided the only bits of 80's style I'm into, are the initial early 80's New York Graffiti/Hip Hop scene looks that are argueably hangovers from the late 70's, or when the 80's does the 50's, like this!

Anyways, onto the main business at hand:

Having recently spent some time this summer re-immersing myself in contemporary culture in the UK, when I hit the streets upon my return to Spain, I was struck by some glaring differences I had previously not considered. This time around, my attention was really drawn to the differing approaches towards vintage and second hand clothing.

The UK is the proven home of fast-fashion, as the advertising agency JWT recently discovered by asking young people in the UK, America, Brazil, Canada and Australia which items they would never cut back on, no matter how tight their finances. Brits ranked “buying new clothes” higher than any other nation in the poll. Despite this apparent obsession with new clothing, young style conscious consumers also embrace vintage and second hand clothing as ammunition in the war against bland or outdated appearance.

This is evident in the wardrobes of the individuals regularly touted as today’s UK style icons, the most prominent examples being Kate Moss and Alexa Chung. How many times have UK newspapers and magazines sited that a mix of high-street, designer pieces and vintage finds is the ideal combination to create a unique and dazzling look? Vintage has become a by-word for unique, brave and innovative fashion statements.

However, the reverence and respect shown in the UK towards an amazing vintage dress, is less likely to be shared by their Spanish counterparts. As is evident through a comparative lack of charity/thrift stores and second hand emporiums, Spanish perceptions towards all things old, not just of the wearable kind, is markedly different.

Since the end of Franco’s fascist dictatorship in 1975, Spaniards have rushed to modernise their society and ‘catch up’ with the rest of the west. This has resulted in a struggle to distance themselves from an unsavoury past and a visual identity that had more or less been put on hold for decades. These days ‘old’ and ‘used’ are more often than not associated with ‘dirty’ and ‘tired’, to be discarded and replaced.

In Spain, standing out of the crowd and using clothing as a form of individual self expression until 1975 was not a desirable or advisable practise (and even potentially dangerous), so perhaps a subsequent actual lack of mid-20th century Spanish vintage also contributes to the dearth of present-day second hand. Today, Spanish youth are as quick as the next countries’ to use clothes and accessories to express how the perceive themselves and society, also, they will more commonly do so in clothing created by Spanish-based brands (Bershka, Pull & Bear, Zara, Mango, Desigual etc.). However, the products must be new and box-fresh. Used garments are what you leave out for the rubbish collection, or to be picked through by members of society who cannot afford new garments (but due to the low price points of Bershka, Pull & Bear et al, includes very few young Spanish natives).

Which is not to say vintage clothing shops, here in Barcelona for example, do not exist. There are some very fine ones. However, they stock, almost exclusively, US and other nations’ imported clothing. I would argue that they are frequented on the whole by the odd ‘alternative’ Spaniard looking to create a more international look, or by the many foreign students and tourists. It is no coincidence that the vintage and second hand clothing shops in Barcelona are all located in the Raval, an area close to the main tourist drag which is also home to the main university, art galleries and student-friendly rented accommodation.

In conclusion, I would most definitely encourage any shopping-hungry visitors to Barcelona to hunt down the vintage contingency on offer. However, do not expect to be met with a slice of trendy Spanish culture, either from the past, present, or foreseeable future.

Getting back on the Horse

The next pictures I should be showing are meant to be of a fantastic pair of black capri pants. You should be looking at detailed shots of cute patch pockets on the front, neatly executed mock-pocket flaps on the back and well fitted side zip. Maybe I'd throw in a shot of the three super-cute, if surreal, contrast buttons featuring the faces of different breeds of dog, two on the pocket flaps and one on the waistband. That would be fun wouldn't it?! But, no. That is not what you are looking at because that project proved a disaster and had to be aborted. The details of which are presently too raw to go into, maybe one day we can talk about it, but instead I will offer you this:


My personal method for lifting myself out of a failed-project-induced funk, is to whip up a tried and tested garment from a pattern that I KNOW is going to work out well, and holds no nasty surprises. It always amazes me how using different fabrics can make garments from the same pattern look like utterly different items. That's how many clothing ranges bash out so many apparantly new styles season after season, so I'm applying a little of the same shizzle to my sewing escapades.

The pattern for this top's first in carnation was Built By Wendy #3835. I have made four previous manifestations of that pattern preceeding this creation, each time making pattern alterations, which lead me to this, my most successful to date. For this one, I used the full sleeve variation I had previously devised, but perfected it by making the sleeve hit just right, avoiding the awkward and uncomfortable 'sleeve sitting in the crook of elbow' phenomena of manifestation number #4. I added (to my mind) delicately proportioned bias-cut sleeve bands to finish them off.

Aside from the well fitting pattern, I think the majority of props must go to the lovely fabric. It's more from the ex-Springfield stash I wrote about here. This is a light cotton in a fairly subdued (for me) mid grey with metallic threads running through. Now I'll be the first to admit that The Smock is not the sexiest of garment shapes, but I think the slight sheer quality of this fabric, combined with the back keyhole detail I added, injects enough raunch to steer me clear of Frumpsville. Similarly, I think the metallic fibres exude enough sparkle to make it special enough for bar wear (midweek, say), but not too much to make it inappropriately 'disco' for daytime biz.

The second time I wore this was in in Birmingham, UK. I was medicating a particularly viscious post-wedding hangover with a satisfyingly greasy pasty, and got a massive grease stain down the front of it! So it goes.

Further Tales from the Stretch Fabric Frontline

After my previous successes in the field of stretch, as reported in my last post, I was riding high! Two wearable endeavours were making me feel like I had made solid progress towards stretch domination. Here’s the boat neck version I was wearing yesterday paired with my birdy appliqué skirt (BTW, I’m pissed off with Christmas having the monopoly over the colour combo red/green, I’m trying to take it back for the masses). With a bit of time before I had to start back at work, and my overlocker sitting there all threaded up and looking at me, I looked around for some ideas to inspire another quick stretch garm.

At this point I must admit I’ve massively fallen in love the Macaron dress pattern by Colette patterns, pictured above. It’s just so cute and sexy in a really wearable way. I especially love the kind of bustier line, that is neatly and subtly emphasised by using contrast fabrics. I am on the brink of ordering it, but am holding back to see the new Autumn collection, so I can make a bulk order and reduce my, umm, carbon footprint or something. However, seeing more and more people’s interpretations of this pattern has set thoughts of potential colour and fabric combos whizzing round my brain.

Then I saw the amazing creation above by alisondahl on Burdastyle. I realised it’s a way to recreate the sexy bustier line of the Macaron dress but in comfy stretch. I decided to, well let’s not beat around the bush, more or less copy it. I think that’s fine if you just say it out loud! So using my newly tried and tested stretch top pattern I set to work tracing a bustier line to the front and back. Using some of the remains of the blue and white stripe slinky stretch fabric from my last project fabric for the bottom section, and some plain white T-shirt fabric my flatmate had knocking around for the top pieces, I eagerly began construction.

Now, little did I realise that the normal T-shirt fabric would behave quite differently to the slinkier stuff I had previously been dealing with. The joining of the pieces over the bust line curve was a bit of a nightmare, creating little annoying tucks on the join on the white fabric. But the real disaster occurred when I tried to self bind the neckline. It looked disastrous! It stretched the neckline hideously, and no amount of steaming could encourage it to shrink back to something wearable.

After feeling thoroughly disheartened and confused, I carefully unpicked the offending binding, trying not to stretch the neckline any further than it already had been. I resolved the situation by applying the technique I used on the blue and white striped top, which was to zigzag stitch thin elastic close to the edge on the wrong side of the neck line, to kind of ping it back into some sort of reasonable shape. Whereas the blue and white striped top’s neckline sat pretty flat, with this normal T-shirt fabric, the effect ended up kind of gathered. This is because I had to pull harder at the elastic when zigzagging it into place to utilise more of its elastic properties to stop the neckline from gapping. I’m pissed off that I didn’t see this coming, but I’m not unhappy with the final result, so I can swallow the gathered effect and attempt to pass it off as deliberate!

Now in hindsight I’m guessing the difference in fabric behaviours is to do with the fabric content. I’m thinking that the slinkier striped fabrics I used for the first two stretch tops had an elastane content which helped keep the neckline (and on the second top, the curve of the bust line on the stripey lower half) in shape when the fabric was cut. I am also thinking, that the normal T-shirt fabric’s stretchability come purely from the knitted ‘weave’ of good ol’ cotton, without the ‘help’ of any stretchy elastane type fibres, which is why all hell broke loose when I cut it and tried to mould it into fancy curvy shapes. If anyone knows ANYTHING about what the hell is going on here, PLEASE leave a comment. And any suggestions for how to deal with the necklines of normal T-shirt fabric tops would be most grateful. Phew! At least the frikkin’ thing is wearable:

Strexcellent!

If previously to reading this you’ve cast your eye toward the side bar to the right, you will already have noticed that the Wardrobe Refashion ‘Life’ icon is announcing my eternal pledge. If you haven’t, take the opportunity now. Ok, so we’re all up to speed. In short, I couldn’t imagine going back to buying mass manufactured clothes, my feelings and thoughts on such matters have altered way too much, so I’ve taken the metaphorical plunge.

Becoming a ‘Lifer’ has raised new questions about how this pledge is to be sustained. There are certain wardrobe requirements and desirables that my sewing spheres don’t yet cover, and I’m not sure I can rely on charity shops and hand-me-downs to solely provide them from here on out. Nor would I want them to. One of the best things about sewing is the freedom and control you have over the fabric/colour/print/fastening/details/fit of a creation, and I’ve got used to that. So I’ve come to accept that I’ve got some sewing bullets to bite, starting with STRETCH FABRIC.

I could make all the amazing dresses and blouses I like, but realistically when it comes to throwing something on to go to work, 7 out of 10 times I reach for a comfy T-shirt or stretch top. But I hadn’t touched stretch since university. During my time there I dabbled a bit with reworking existing T-shirts, but also had fear of stretch instilled in me by my pattern cutting teacher talking about stretchability ratios and two/three/four way stretch and the alleged effects on the pattern. Hmm, really? There are thousands of successful stretch creations on Burdastyle, and I doubt the vast majority of the creators concerned themselves with stretchability ratios. With this in mind, I got amongst.


University provided me with access to lots of proper industrial machinery like a cover-stitch and binding machine which are specifically for using with stretch fabric. I had to work out how best to utilise my overlocker and normal flatstitch machines to produce similar, if not so professional effects. The acquisition of the Built by Wendy ‘Sew U: Home Stretch’ book helped iron out (nice pun, eh?) my concerns by providing lots of advice on techniques and finishes. Next I had to find a good pattern. First I tried the Lydia basic T-shirt pattern from Burdastyle, but hated the fit and trying to figure out how to alter it was beyond me. So instead I used the basic T-shirt pattern included in ‘Sew U: Home Stretch’ as a starting point, and then laid an existing nicely fitting T-shirt on it as a guideto reshape the side seams to accommodate curves, as the original pattern had no shaping at all. After some fiddling around (AKA, pattern alteration) I produced a ¾ sleeved, boat neck pattern that resulted in this:

The most observant will have noticed this top paired with the red shorts from my last post. The super nice stripey fabric was bought in the summer sale of a fairly high end fabric shop, it was reduced from €16.95 a metre, to €2.95! After the sale, the price went right back up. Jeez, talk about mark up! Well, fresh from the triumph of this well fitting top, I cranked out a puff sleeved scoop-neck item from another striped fabric from the same source:
Now seeing as these are essentially day time items, and I’m not much of a day drinker, I cannot pass them through the previously prescribed field test of applying large quantities of booze to the scenario. Instead, you’ll have to take my word that the latter top fared very well during it’s initial outing to the supermarket, and has continued to do so since. In fact I’m wearing it now. I've still got some experimenting to do and improvements to make, but Stretch Fabric, I fear you no longer!

Red Hot Sewin'

My goodness! My sewing machine has hardly had a minutes rest since I got back from UK. I've been massively making the most of my free time before I start back at work next week by getting amongst some creating whilst I've got the chance. Since both these two creations were deploying red fabric, it made sense to make them at the same time, whilst my machine and overlocker were both threaded up with red thread. Also, it cut down on the annoying switching between the two machines, which I don't have the space to have set up in unison. One of these styles was a virtual straight up repeat of a garment I'd just made, and the other was a new pattern, so it was nice to alleviate the respective monotony and confusion that both situations can, at times, bring!

Despite my protestations of self-restraint from immediately repeating these shorts but in red, that's pretty much exactly what I did once the chicken dress was a wrap. I reasoned that there were a few weeks of hot weather remaining to enjoy in another pair of smokin' hot shorts. The red ones are created in virtually identical stretch twill, with buttons lifted from a charity shopped dress. As I reported, the success of the navy version was somewhat of a revelation in terms of what I found to look good on me, and what I felt comfortable in. So much so, that I decided to make this pair a little more 'pin-up girl', by making them tighter and shorter. From fearing the exposure, to downright flauting my booty, it's been somewhat of a turnaround!

In a similarly vein, I set about the creation of another figure fitting garment, the Beignet skirt from Collette Patterns. I love the vintage inspired styles produced by this new pattern company, but most of all I love that this is a new independent company, that is seemingly a success. I'm very excited to be able to support such an endeavour, whilst enjoying such a beautiful product.

Anyway, I decided to eliminate the side-seam pockets to create a more stream-lined fit, and I omitted the lining as it's still very hot here. Next time I make it, I'll add a lining to make the finished skirt smoother and viable for colder weather. I also did my usual of cutting out the size too big, and had to refit, re-stitch and re-overlock the whole damn thing! However, this style provided me with the perfect canvas to show off these amazing vintage buttons which I'm assuming are from the 1960's.

Aside from perhaps being a tad short, overall I'm really happy with the outcome. It's a fun and sexy skirt that I débuted, as seen in these pictures, on an evening out to celebrate me and my boys first anniversary. The top I am wearing it with was a charity shop score from the UK last April. Moths had sadly got to it and made a couple of little holes at the bottom, but which are cunningly disguised in this outfit as the Beignet skirt require a tucked in top! I refashioned the top to make this possible by removing the back tie detail and stitching down the closing instead. Win/win!

Anda Made Some More Dresses!

Now, I have chatted on at length about the virtues of Burdastyle's Anda dress before (here), but to summarise: it is a very easy dress to make and wear that shows off printed fabric very well. But just HOW well does it show off print, I wonder? Just how ridiculous can the print be, and still the Anda dress pattern will just soak it up and display it as perfectly wearable? I think these are questions of potentially global importance. I set about seeking answers:

First up is a version I made from a charity shopped childrens' bedsheet. The above picture is when I wore the final garment to the Fiesta de Gracia, and got my bottom pinched by one of the many street decorations, cheeky devil! Making this turned out to be a bit of a pain in the arse, as the fabric was too thin to use in a single layer, so I had to alter the manufacture method to self-line the bugger. I made a couple of fitting changes to the original Anda pattern, I raised the elastic casing to make it more empire-line (my African dress is a bit ambiguous, neither empire nor waisted) plus I made the top section a bit tighter by taking it in at the side seams. At first it evidently wasn't taken in enough, as when I tried it on my boy declared that I looked like a special patient. I took it in some more and the comment seemed to have been withdrawn. Here's a close up of the self-bound neckline, don't mind Wizardface:

Over all, the dress is a bit too thick, I probably should have used something finer to line it with, rather than simply using the other half of the sheet. Also, argueably it's a little 'maternity', but I think that is somewhat unavoidable with gathering such as this. Neither of these things prevent me from wearing it, and so you see this dress pattern is able to carry off print as strange as this:

Second up, is another African printed fabric version. Before you get all 'Zo, you've tried and tested it in African fabric before, what's the dealio?', well Homes, THIS is the frikkin dealio!:

This fabric was a gift that had been sitting in my stash for some time waiting for the right project. Well, my best mate Vic is heading off soon for a year long Oz adventure, and thus requires some hella-hot weather wear. With the chicken fabric in one hand and altered Anda pattern in the other, I stepped up. Initailly the fabric was really stiff, but after a wash it changed to a soft, almost silky texture. Despite that, this fabric still scared me. The eternal chicken-or-the-egg debate, objectified into fabric, might be enough to drive the sanest person crazy. Was it simply too much for the Anda pattern to tame? I always knew this dress would fall somewhere between ridiculous and amazing, but I feel the outcome has fallen firmly towards the latter.

So, in conclusion, the Anda dress pattern is apparently capable of turning the most fruitloop of fabric prints into a wearable garment. I feel that my Anda work is done, but I really hope someone takes this quest further and deploys even more insane prints. Let's see how far we can take this people!

A-Team Skirts Live Again

I've got a couple of things to show you, if you'll permit me. Remember the skirt above (the creation of which I documented here)? Well, in the excitement of planning, fabric and fabulousness, I pushed to the back of my mind the niggling feeling that the lace panels wouldn't hold up too well to laundering. I tried to convince myself everything would be fine if I handwashed it when laundering time came. It didn't get that far. The lace sections started to rip just through WEARING the damn thing. But still I continued to wear it until they got so raggedly that my boy basically suggested I shouldn't go out the house looking like that! THAT'S how much I loved that skirt.

Well, I eventually unpicked the lace, recustomised it and it lives again!:

This reincarnation features leather bird silhouettes hand-appliquéd on a ribbon 'wire'. I developed this decorative effect when my obsession with bird images was still in it's infancy. I made a grey and red version, both of which have miraculously ended up in my best friend's wardrobe. Strangely enough I never had a version myself until now.


Here's another cheeky twill A-line skirt I whipped up a month or so ago:

Last Spring we went on the miniest of breaks to Girona and chanced upon a Marimekko shop. I sated my desire for their squillion-euros-a-metre fabrics by buying a few little sample pieces that were €1 each. I decided to utilise one of them by creating these 'bubbles' which I machine-appliquéd on the front and back panels. Rare 'work in progress' pap:

I'm trying to come up with interesting ways to add contrast pattern to otherwise plain garments. I think this technique would work well for refashioning and enlivening existing garments, as well as for new creations. I'm going to leave skirts alone for a while now and focus my attentions elsewhere. Keep posted....