Deborah Cooke: Author

Some of us share a fondness for old things, particularly for vintage patterns. For me, they can be sewing or knitting patterns, even books. They fascinate me, not just because of the design of the garments but because of the way they reflect social history in general and the perceived role of women in specific. Sewing and knitting patterns and books of any era use models who fit the cultural ideal of what woman should be, how they should dress, how they should look, even how they should conduct themselves.

And that intrigues me. It’s a trend that is interesting in itself – there have been books of manners and books of comport for centuries, but in the 20th century, advertising became another vehicle for social conditioning and the reinforcement of gender roles.

This fascination gives me an excuse to roll through the thrift stores once in a while, and check out what’s there. You can find nothing at a thrift store, or something really interesting. The mix varies from day to day, even in the same store. It’s all part of the adventure.

And so, a few weeks back, I was at a thrift store. They had a huge windfall of vintage sewing patterns. A lot of them were Vogue patterns, and most of them were uncut. Treasure! Even better, they were twenty-five cents each. So, I had myself a good rummage and spent the princely sum of five dollars for a huge sack of patterns. I was pretty proud of myself for this score.

Mr. C. is always skeptical about my buying used sewing patterns. He always asks me how I know that all the pieces are there. Well, I prefer to buy uncut patterns so one peek inside the envelope proves that the tissue is uncut. And I’ll take a chance on a cut pattern in a design I really like, betting that most sewers will put all the pieces carefully back in the envelope, just in case they want to sew the garment again.

But when I get home, I always review my score and check it all again. This time, I had good news and bad. You might remember that Vogue patterns used to have these little embroidered labels – you had to get the label at the cash counter when you paid for the pattern. They weren’t in the envelope. Well, one uncut pattern had the label! Wow!

The other surprise wasn’t so good. One envelope felt a bit thin in the thrift shop, but it was only a pattern for a short sleeveless dress, so I hadn’t worried about it. You guessed it – there was no tissue in the envelope, just the instructions.

So, it finally happened. Mr. C. was proven right. But I think for the investment of twenty-five cents, it wasn’t that much of a loss. Plus the instructions show the shape of the pieces – I could probably draft them myself if I really wanted to make that dress.

Plus, I GOT THE LABEL!

What about you? Have you scored a bargain lately that turned out to be a little less – or a little more – of what you were expecting?