Tuesday, June 22, 2021

Blast from the Past: Getting Down and Dirty in the Garden

For various reasons, I was over two weeks late in getting my garden planted this year...but as of this past weekend, the tomatoes and peppers and zucchini and cucumbers were finally in, and the bush bean seeds I did manage to plant last weekend are popping up like crazy. In honor of (or perhaps relief at) the occasion, here’s a walk down memory lane into 1917 via 2014...and down the garden path.

* * * * * 

With the clarion call to American women to save food at home so that the starving of Europe and the troops fighting the Kaiser could be fed, 1917 could be called the year of the canning jar...sort of. 

It started in the spring. American women were exhorted to plant gardens and preserve their crops, and by July, the women’s magazines blossomed with advice: July’s McCall’s article “Uncle Sam’s Kitchen Brigade” gave a detailed list of how each type of garden bounty could be canned, both fruit (apricots, plums, berries, and cherries) and vegetables (bean, peppers, asparagus, cabbage spinach, cauliflower, carrots, and beets).

The Independent featured an article on dehydrating foods in June as did The Ladies’ World Magazine in August which suggested dehydrating foods--including leafy greens like spinach-- to preserve them (as the lady above is doing, with wire mesh trays and a house fan!) for a very practical reason: because of the success of the canning campaign, there was a national shortage of canning jars! The Ladies’ Home Journal included an article about “the new containers”, primarily different types of coated paper--the forerunner of our paper milk and juice cartons today. 

In addition to all the encouragement to can, preserve, and dry, American women were also encouraged to change the way their families ate. Based on the number of articles and recipes published about salads this summer (in Women’s World and The Modern Priscilla in particular), I have to wonder if anyone actually ate them before 1917.  The salad was a somewhat different creature from today’s greens and chopped veggies: it tended more to be a collection of foods mixed together and served cold, thereby saving cooking fuel and using up not only the garden’s bounty but also anything else that happened to be lurking in the icebox.  How can you resist a tasty Baked Bean salad, presented by such a fetching young lady?

Friday, June 18, 2021

Read This If You Get the Nineteen Teen by E-mail

Special service announcement, my dears! Effectively July 1, the app used to send posts from Nineteen Teen via e-mail will be deactivated by its creator, and there doesn’t appear to be an alternative. The RSS feed will still function. The blog will post online as usual.

Here’s what you can do. If you prefer to get your information via e-mail, sign up for our newsletters.

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You’ll be first to hear about sales and new releases, plus we both offer free content like short stories and novellas to our subscribers. Win-win.

(Image by Rocapurpura from Pixabay)

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Tuesday, June 15, 2021

Nineteenth Century Heroines: Taking Command

I recently read The Great Clippers by Jane D. Lyon, who mentions a young wife who took command of a sailing ship as it rounded the Horn in a storm. Of course, I had to learn more! I give you Mary Patten, a true nineteenth century heroine!

Born in Chelsea, Massachusetts in 1837, Mary Ann Brown married at the tender age of 15 to a dashing sailing ship captain named Joshua Patten who was nine years her senior. He was a rising star among captains, so it wasn’t surprising for him to be offered command of an extreme clipper, a more than 1,600-ton sailing ship with massive amounts of canvas, within two years of their marriage. Neptune’s Car was built by Page and Allen of Portsmouth, Virginia, for the line of Foster and Nickerson in New York. Under Patten’s command, she had broke records for the time from Boston around the Horn to San Francisco.

And Mary came along. In her first 17-month journey, she saw the coasts of South America, San Francisco, China, England, and New York. But she was no idle passenger. She used the time to learn navigation and the role of a captain aboard a sailing ship.

In 1856, they started out on another long voyage to San Francisco, racing several other clipper ships. Mary was 19 years old and pregnant with her first child. The trip began much like the previous, with more than some $300,000 of cargo in the hold and a valiant crew, but things began to worsen fairly quickly. For one thing, the first mate proved inept, sleeping through his watches and failing to let down the sails to catch the wind. There was some speculation he had bet on one of the other ships reaching California first. After attempting to reason with him, Joshua relived him of duty and clapped him in irons, then took on the duties of the first mate himself.

Tragedy struck just as they reached Cape Horn. Joshua came down with brain fever and was insensible. (Some accounts say it was tuberculosis.) With the first mate unreliable and the second mate unable to navigate, Mary Patten assumed command. She is credited with being the first female captain of a sailing ship.

It couldn’t have been easy. The Horn is notorious for its gales. Besides ordering the work of the crew, Mary had to devote herself to caring for her sick husband. She studied the medical books aboard to gain ideas of how to ease his suffering. When the first mate tried to instigate a mutiny, she stood up to the crew and rallied them to her cause. They reached San Francisco ahead of all but one of their competitors, and Mary herself piloted the ship into port.

She and Joshua returned home to Boston via another ship, a steamer, but her beloved husband never recovered. It’s likely he didn’t know Mary had given birth, to a son she named Joshua. Having heard of her heroism, the New York Daily Tribune tried to interview her, but she was too humble. The reporter said she was “of medium height, with black hair, large, dark, lustrous eyes, and very pleasing features.”

Sadly, Mary caught consumption and died four years later. She was 23. She has been the inspiration for a novel, and the U.S. Merchant Marine academy named its hospital after her.

One of the most touching things I learned about Mary, however, was the stone she put on Joshua’s grave. It reads, “Are there seas in heaven, Joshua? And is there such a vessel as our Neptune’s Car? If there is, wait for me. And we shall explore the vast and boundless reaches of eternity.”

Now, there’s a nineteenth century heroine.

And I will be so bold as to draw your attention to another nineteenth century heroine, this one fictional. The Unflappable Miss Fairchild, the first book in my Uncommon Courtships series, is available for free through June 16. The ever-practical Anne Fairchild knows the proper way to seek a husband. So why is it one moment in the presence of the dashing Chas Prestwick, and she’s ready to throw propriety to the wind? Chas excels at shocking Society with his wild wagers and reckless carriage racing. But his bravado masks a bruised and lonely heart. Can the sweet-natured Anne convince him to take the greatest risk of all—on love?

You can find her at fine online retailers such as

Smashwords 

Amazon 

Barnes and Noble  

Kobo  

Apple Books 

Tuesday, June 8, 2021

Shawl We Dance?**

 Another stunner from La Belle Assemblée! This one is dated May 1810, so was likely published in April of that year.

The text reads:

ENGLISH COSTUME.

No. 1.—Evening Shawl Dress.

A rich Paris-brown French silk shawl robe, with short full sleeves, made to sit very much off the shoulders; worn over a white satin body with long sleeves. The hair divided on the crown of the head, curled in ringlets in the neck behind, and on the right side of the face, with a small bunch of curls on the left side of the head; a band of diamonds, or coloured stones (with a cornelian clasp or brooch), is worn round the head; diamond earrings; Persian scarf of green silk; white satin shoes; and white kid gloves.

Aside from general bemusement at the description of an “English costume” made up of Paris-brown French silk, what do we have here?

In the early nineteenth century (well, before then too), shawls woven or silk and/or kashmir wool in India and elsewhere in Asia and imported to Europe were prized indeed by fashionable women. The plates in the French Journal des Dames et des Modes in particular contain many depictions of beautiful shawls. So prized, indeed, were these shawls that it became a bit of a “thing” to make dresses out of them (and later, from fabric that had been made to look like a shawl.)  They tended to be quite large, so this was not as silly as it initially sounds; with the slim profile of Regency-era dresses, it was quite doable, as can be seen here at right in this portrait of Empress Joséphine by Baron Antoine-Jean Gros, ca. 1808, from the Musée d’Art et d’Histoire at Palais Massena, Nice, France.

So what about our Belle Assemblée example? It’s a fairly straightforward design: the ends of the shawl, with its deep paisleys, are used to decorate the lower edge of the skirt. I like that the fringe edge was utilized, as you can see around the very bottom of the hem. I’m guessing that the shawl’s selvages form the trim up the front and around the bodice. As this dress is made to be worn over a bodice (white satin, in this case), less fabric has to be used.


And may I just say that her hairstyle may be one of the prettiest I’ve seen in any fashion plate? Simple and charming, though using a diamond necklace as a headband may be anything but “simple!” 

What do you think of today’s confection?

Oh...speaking of prized indeed, Im happy to announce that Evergreen is a finalist in the Young Adult category of First Coast Romance Writers National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award contest.

 

 

 

**This is, of course, not a ball dress or at all suitable for dancing. But I couldn’t resist the pun. 😊

Tuesday, June 1, 2021

Temple of the Muses: Your Ultimate Regency Bookstore


We’ve talked about where the fashionable bluestocking shopped, but I recently came across what must have been the BEST bookstore in London: the Lackington Temple of the Muses. 

It’s a rather grand name, isn’t it. But the bookstore lived up to it in several ways. First, its founder, James Lackington, started poor and illiterate, but he taught himself to read and fell in love with books. Legend has it when he and his wife were down to their last cent at one point, and he had a choice of buying food or a book, he bought a book. I’m sure we can relate. 😊

Second, his Temple of the Muses was easily the largest bookstore of its day, boasting nearly a million volumes at one point. Located at Number 32 Finsbury Place South, at the southeast corner of Finsbury Square in London (east of fashionable Mayfair by a good clip in what appears to be the Spitalfields area), the warehouse featured multiple stories and bookshelves towering to the high ceilings. This print gives you a good idea of the breadth and depth.


Third, he managed to sell his books at a reasonable price. He billed the Temple of the Muses as the “cheapest bookseller in the world.” To make good on that claim, he purchased remaindered stock from publishers for much less than a typical bookseller would pay, and he extended no credit. Purchases at the Temple were purely cash.

Books were listed in an annual catalog, and shoppers came to the central desk to request their preferences. It was said that young gentlemen newly acquired of lands and houses would come shop for entire libraries! You could also request the color of the bindings. Hard to imagine a library where every book spine is the same color!

Lackington also ventured into publishing. Though he retired in 1798, leaving the management of his businesses to his cousin George, his company published Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.

Tragically, the Temple of the Muses burned down in 1841. You can find more details about this wonderful establishment courtesy of author Maria Grace at her blog.

Tuesday, May 25, 2021

No Slang Like Old Slang, Unless It's New...Part Five!

We haven’t played this game in awhile, so let’s have another round of No Slang Like Old Slang…Unless it’s New, the Nineteenteen game show where you have to identify whether a word or turn of phrase was used in the 19th century, or has a later (20th century) origin. I’ll post the answers in the comment column...in the meanwhile, happy guessing!!

1. Elbow room (Sufficient space to act in): My clumsy cousin Fred avoids our town’s assembly rooms, saying that he never feels he has enough elbow room there…for which the rest of our town is quietly grateful.

2. Down in the Dumps (low-spirited, melancholy): Amelia has been down in the dumps ever since Captain Toploft failed to show up for the dance he made her promise to save for him.

3. Look down one’s nose (to regard with a feeling of superiority): As he is known to look down his nose at any girl who isn’t at least a viscount’s daughter, she should probably not be surprised.

4. Tight (drunk): But my brother said that the captain has an unfortunate tendency to get tight before most assemblies, so she likely had a lucky escape.

5. In clink or in the clink (in prison): As it turns out, Captain Toploft and three other friends spent the night of the assembly in clink for public drunkenness.

6. Blot one’s copybook (disgrace one’s self): Papa said that if he continues to blot his copybook in such a fashion, he’ll have to resign his commission.

7. Shortchange (to cheat someone by giving them incorrect change or treat unfairly by withholding something of value): That dreadful Mrs. Pinche at the sweet shop shortchanged my little brother when he went there to spend his birthday money.

8. Conniption (a fit of rage or hysterics):  As he had a conniption right in front of her shop just as the mayor was walking past, I doubt she’ll do it again.

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

My Father's Mountain

Today would have been my father’s 91st birthday. He died in his early 80s from Alzheimer’s. I think of him often, but never more so then when I see the massive, majestic bulk of Mt. Rainier rising into the heavens. My father loved that mountain.

He was born in the Appalachians, in a sleepy little town now called Whitehall, whose claim to fame is that it was the birthplace of the U.S. Navy in the Revolutionary War. A silk mill employed many in town for some years. The oldest of ten children, he wanted more than anything to get out and see the world. As soon as he could, he enrolled in the Air Force. His dream was to go into radar.

After some training, he ended up at what is now Joint Base Lewis-McChord. He arrived in the winter and endured weeks of unrelenting rain and snow. The first sunny day, he looked out in surprise, then asked his fellow airmen, “Who put that big pile of snow at the end of the runway?”

That big pile of snow was Mt. Rainier. From a certain angle, it does indeed look as if it rises from the end of the main runway.

Even before he married my mother, he was spending his free time up on the slopes, hiking, taking pictures, soaking up the beauty. The tallest mountain he’d seen before then had been less than one-quarter the size. He and Mom went there often. When I was a few months old, he was given the chance to go to Greenland and learn about radar. Instead, he mustered out. His dream was less important than spending time with his family.

I don’t recall a time growing up when we didn’t spend a good chunk of the summer on the mountain. My father liked to brag that I had made the long and steep climb to the Ice Caves (now gone) above Paradise when I was only six. One of the pictures of the climb shows me up on his shoulders, so I’m pretty sure I didn’t walk the entire way!

We hiked, and we camped. He always wanted to summit, but life got in the way. When we moved north for five years, he found other mountains to love in the North Cascades, but Rainier was ever his favorite.

She is mine as well. Happy birthday, Papa. Now, at least, you get to look down at her instead of up. 

Tuesday, May 11, 2021

Regency Fabrics, Part 32

Here’s another post in our ongoing series on Regency fabrics.

As I have in previous posts, I’ll be examining actual fabric samples glued into several earlier editions of Ackermann’s Repository, samples supplied by the manufacturers and published by Ackermann in order to boost the British cloth-making industry at a time when exporting British goods to Europe was almost impossible because of the Napoleonic war. I'll give you a close-up scan of each sample, the published description if available, and my own observations of the color, weight, condition, and similarity to present-day materials, to give you as close a picture as possible of what these fabrics are like.

Today’s four samples are from the July 1813 issue of Ackermann’s Repository. The overall condition of my copy is excellent; the page itself is free of foxing and is only slightly toned, though it is a bit ragged on the right-hand margin. The samples themselves are in excellent condition, with only a little fraying on the edges of two of them.

Here we go!

No. 1 A primrose floret sarsnet. There is great beauty and lightness in this fabric, and the colour is chaste. It is necessary in adopting a dress, that the wearer should chuse the colour with some attention to her complexion. It not unfrequently happens, that a dress may be admired for its becoming appearance, from the accidental circumstance of some fitness in the arrangement of colours between the complexion of the wearer and the hue of the dress. Those who are desirous of ascertaining what colours would best suit a Brunetta or a Phillis, would do well to have two handsome figures drawn on a small scale, with faces, necks, and arms painted to each; the shape for dress might be cut out, and the various patterns of silks, muslins, &c. might easily be inserted, to fill up the space, which would afford the means of ascertaining what colours would be most becoming.—If some eminent portrait-painter would write his sentiments upon this subject, he would serve the cause of female fashion. Surely dress, or fashion, might be governed by scientific principles as well as any other matter of taste. This sarsnet is sold by George and Bradley, Golden Key, Holywell-street, Strand.

My comments: Hmm. The actual discussion of the “article” itself gets rather lost in the essay on scientific fashion! Which is a pity, because this is a truly beautiful fabric in a pale buff color, woven in diagonally ribbed stripes that create a dark-light effect. Add the sheen of silk, with just enough body to drape elegantly, and you’ve got one of the loveliest samples I’ve run across. I do wonder if it has faded, as the originally description calls it “primrose”, usually a light yellow, but that’s hard to discern.

 

No. 2. Peruvian spotted net. Very different in colour from the preceding article, yet in one respect similar, namely, that the paleness of the ground only approximates to the beauty of the blue with which it is spotted. It rarely happens, that a dress of one unbroken colour, let it be ever so brilliant, adorns the wearer, be she dark or fair, or her figure ever so graceful: so large a mass of colour overpowers the countenance and complexion, and produces no high opinion of the taste of the wearer. Sold as above.

My comments: Hmm. Maybe these samples aren’t in as good shape as I’d thought, if the dots on this loosely woven silk netting were actually once blue; either that, or the copy was written for a different fabric than was actually sent. As it’s a net, it was definitely meant to be worn over an underdress; it’s a silk as well, with just enough body to have draped well.

 

No. 3. Fancy wove muslin. This is a lightsome fabric, that will suit every complexion, and is fitted for the sunnier season. The ornaments best suited to this and the preceding patterns, must be regulated by the taste of the wearers, as less control pervades these matters than heretofore. Indeed, the little expletives of female attire are usually best conceived, and better arranged by the spontaneous hand of the wearer, than by the precise rules established at any particular toilette. Sold by T. and J. Smith, Tavistock-street, Covent-Garden. 

My comments: I’ll agree that this sample is “lightsome”—a charming word for a charming fabric, which makes me think of little girls’ Easter dresses. The muslin is woven of fine, even cotton thread with the pink design woven in, not printed. This picture isn't doing it justice, alas; a very dainty fabric, likely worn over a slip.

 

No. 4. Russia Paper. This paper is a close imitation of Russia, now so much used in book-binding, pocket-books, purses, and all ladies’ ornamental work. It may be had a shade lighter or darker, at option. It is particularly neat for binding or covering any port-folio, for the toilette or desk, any may be adapted to the many uses for which Morocco paper is calculated. It is not so apt to soil or damage as many of the lighter fancy papers. It may be seen made up and adapted to various purposes, at R. Ackermann’s Repository of Arts, 101, Strand; where ladies will find the newest articles in the fancy paper line. Size of Russia paper, half sheet wove drawing medium, 12s. per dozen.

My comments: We’ve seen paper samples presented here before, but I have to wonder if this one is here because a fourth fabric sample didn’t arrive by the print date. I’m trying to think of a type of paper used today that might be analogous, but not having much luck: this paper is crisp, even after 200+ years…but it’s maybe as heavy as a kraft envelope. All of the color is printed—the back is white—and the printed surface is glazed like a chintz.

What do you think of this month’s fabrics (and paper)?

Tuesday, May 4, 2021

It’s Always Sunny in Regency England

Well, no, no it isn’t, any more than it’s always sunny anywhere. Even the driest places on Earth occasionally experience a rain shower (except for the Dry Valleys in Antarctica, which haven’t seen rain in millions of years, apparently, but I don’t intend to set a story there 😊). But I recently caught myself slipping into the habit where every day in my books is a perfect sunny day, and my characters take strolls and sit in open carriages wearing nothing more than a muslin dress and a spencer. It seemed appropriate when I was talking about the Dorset seashore in August, but November?

Ahem. No.

Fortunately, there’s an intriguing site now parked under Weather Web. Researched meticulously by Martin Rowley of Dorset, it pulls together reports of weather in England for centuries, including 1800 to 1849. For example, based on recorded observations, we know that 1805 was a dry summer in London but 1807 was a wet one. January 1810 saw 10 days of fog in London. And January 1820, when George III died and Prinny became king (though he wasn’t officially crowned until later), the weather was terribly cold. Tunbridge Wells, in Kent, recorded 10 degrees below zero at one point.

One of the most intriguing events is recorded on December 14, 1810. On that day, at Old Portsmouth in Hampshire, what is believed to be the strongest tornado ever reported in England touched down. It barreled through Old Portsmouth and on to Southsea Common, blowing down chimneys, peeling back roofs, and levelling houses. Meteorologists believe it was a T8 on the TORRO scale, with winds exceeding 213 miles per hour. Miraculously, no deaths were associated with it.  

Now, I may not be able to pinpoint the weather in Dorset in November 1804, but I can be reasonably sure it rained, a lot, and the weather hovered between 40 and 55 degrees Fahrenheit, requiring me to study lots of lovely shawls, pelisses, cloaks, and redingotes in which to wrap my heroine.

Writing historical novels is such a difficult thing. 😊

Tuesday, April 27, 2021

What Lay Beneath Those Teaser Posts…

 

This!

 

I’m happy to announce that my new young adult fantasy, What Lies Beneath, will be out on September 14 from Book View Café!

War. Spies. Gossip and lies. Mythical Creatures. Falling in love. And it’s still only July.

It’s 1917, and everyone is doing their bit now that America has entered the Great War—everyone except 17-year-old Emma Verlaine. Her overprotective dad won’t let her go to nursing school while he’s off doing war work; instead, she’s been sent to stay for the summer with her Gran on an island off Cape Cod, and the most she’ll be able to do for the war effort is knit socks. Socks!

As it happens, island life isn’t so bad. There are the seals that seem even more fascinated by her than she is by them. There’s the new Navy Air Station that guards the coast from German U-boats where she’s determined to get a job. But most of all there’s Malcolm, whose family owns a resort hotel on the island and who gives her swimming lessons and delicious kisses.

But danger lurks in the waters off the island. Only Emma can save her new home—if she accepts that everything she thought she knew about her life is a lie, and that the seals are following her for a very good reason…

It was quite a change of pace to write a story set firmly in the twentieth century, after dwelling so long in the nineteenth. Telephones! Airplanes! Bathing suits! Working women! And as you saw, the research for this book was a lot of fun: 1917 had so many more similarities to our world, yet still some crucial differences. But some things will never change—young women striving to find their place in the world…and love. It was also great fun to set a book in a place I know and love so well, and to incorporate real bits and pieces of history, both national and local, into the plot.

What Lies Beneath is up for pre-order at Amazon (affiliate link), Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Apple, Googleplay, and Smashwords, and will also be available in print from your favorite bookstore. And if you're feeling impatient, there's a sneak peek over on my website to whet your appetite.

I hope you'll enjoy it!


Tuesday, April 20, 2021

Here’s Your Chance: New Release and Three-Book Sale

She’s out! The Lady’s Second-Chance Suitor, the fifth book in my Grace-by-the-Sea series, launches this week.

Hester Todd hoped never to run into her first love, Rob Peverell, again, until she does just that at the annual Grace-by-the-Sea Harvest Ball. Rob broke her heart seven years ago, sending her flying into the arms of a dashing naval lieutenant instead. Now a widow with a daughter she adores, Hester has finally found a little peace with her past. But one moment in Rob’s company, and her heart begins to whisper of a different future.

A tragedy propelled the rapscallion younger son to the title of viscount, and Rob is struggling to become the man his sister and tenants need. Romance at the moment is out of the question, but Hester always knew the way to his heart. When smugglers once more try to infiltrate the little coastal village, Hester and Rob must find a way to trust each other and protect their families and friends. In doing so, they may find that true love always deserves a second chance.

To celebrate, I’ve lowered the prices on the first three books in the series. Through April 21, the ebook version of The Matchmaker’s Rogue is 99 cents, The Heiress’s Convenient Husband is $1.99, and The Artist’s Healer is $2.99. Tell your friends!

The Lady’s Second Chance Suitor is available as an ebook (print too on Amazon) at fine online retailers such as

Smashwords  

Amazon (affiliate link) 

Barnes and Noble 

Apple Books 

Kobo 

Return to Grace-by-the-Sea, where romance and adventure come home.

Tuesday, April 13, 2021

More Hints...a look back at May 1917’s Fashions

I’m back to be a dreadful tease with another Blast from the Past about 1917 and what was going on then...with a promise that in my next post, I’ll stop being mysterious and explain why. Till then...enjoy these wonderful fashions!

* * * * * * * *

So I got hold of a beautiful copy of the May 1917 edition of The Delineator, a magazine published by Butterick, now best known for their sewing patterns. Well, you know that their magazine would have to have gorgeous fashion pages—over twenty of them!--and you’re right. So I thought it was time to have some slightly more recent Fashion Forecasts, which will continue through the summer months.

 
The fashion section begins with a look at the latest Paris fashions, with the headline, “Fleet-Footed are the Fashions that Defy the U-Boats”. Designers mentioned include Georgette, Marthe Wingrove, Magraine-Lacroix, Laferriere, and Parry.


 
One thing you’ll notice that differs from the 19th century prints that I post is that dresses are usually not labeled “Morning Dress” or “Walking Dress” or what have you. What started with this issue of The Delineator was individual breakdowns of the cost of making each pattern, including estimated cost of fabric, trim, findings and patterns, as a result of expected belt-tightening with the newly entered war. The dress at left has a total cost of $4.94, and the dress at right costs a mere $3.37.


 
Silhouettes are interesting in this year: though many of the dresses shown still have waists, the general lines are hinting at the coming “vertical”, straight look of the twenties. Busts are still low, an echo of the previous decade.


Parasols and creative millinery were definitely in. The pink hat at right very definitely resembles a type of military hat known as a “shako”; hardly surprising to see, the month after the US had entered the war.


 
Separates—blouses and skirts, or two piece suits—were also in vogue.
 
What I found especially interesting is that there was a separate section of clothes intended especially for teens, though that exact term is not used. Still, the pattern descriptions are for 16- and 17- and 18-year-olds--a definite change from 19th century fashion.


The biggest difference I can see between these teen clothes and the more grown-up patterns is that the hemlines seem to be a trifle shorter.

More “teen” fashions, along with some younger girl outfits.

 
Children’s clothing is also included, both for girls...


And for boys. Note the ringlets!


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
What do you think of May 1917’s fashions?