Getting a Weave
Why finding a simple top for an outfit that is both festive and hostess ready turns into a quest.
Dressing for me is a quest. Because my body isn’t fashionably androgynous (my post-lockdown is size 6), I end up custom tailoring half of my wardrobe. This is the only way I can present myself with dignity and grace and enjoy quality garments for years, instead of becoming a trends mill marionette who buys clothes, gets rid of clothes, and buys again, practically confined to BIG SALE leftovers.
I couldn’t sew two clothes to save my life, so I must rely on talented tailors. I can’t stand non-talented tailors, which contributes to the already complicated path I have chosen for myself. Luckily, my penchant for indulgence and creative experiment attracts all the right characters.
My job is to calculate the design that fits my body and my lifestyle, find the right fabric, and stay focused.
Finding the right fabric for those of us willing to dress with dignity and grace while consuming less means jumping through hoops. Let me give you an example. I would like to duplicate this dark teal top in a more subdued color.
The organza skirt is part of a custom-made gown for the Vienna ball I attended in 2018. After the ball, the top and the skirt continued on separate journeys. I pair them with other garments depending on the formality of the event. This combination was for a 2022 New Year celebration with friends. The gala skirt gives the sense of a special event, while the top with open shoulders (called curved or round scye, is a signature of Sporty style, with scye being a technical term for an armhole) makes a comfortable completion of my outfit. As a hostess, I celebrate between the kitchen and dining room and have to be both festive and sink-and-oven-ready.
I would like to have a similar top in a mocha color to compose more exciting and versatile outfits I have in mind. This top is by the French high fashion brand Rochas and I found it on YOOX, in the category of tailored blazers without sleeves. YOOX is the only fashion retailer that bothers to give you a well thought out system of filters to help people who know what they are looking for find what they are looking for. That’s why half of my wardrobe comes from YOOX.
This top, or bodice, is a modern version of a corset, which is what’s required to balance a voluminous frock on a non-androgynous body (i.e. moi). Androgynous bodies achieve the same nonchalant look with a t-shirt and it’s such an ubiquitous combination that most people are sure that the simple tee shirt goes with anything and looks good on anyone. False. Non-androgynous women usually need more structure. This structure comes with a modern version of a corset inspired top. But these are nowhere to be found. Partly, this is because women do not know they need tailored pieces in their wardrobe. Partly because they never had a chance to try at the store and see how it works. It’s a chicken and egg problem, but at this point women with sleek, non-androgynous bodies are routinely poorly dressed. Basically, they are screwed.
Since I know I need a corset inspired top to balance this skirt and I know it’s practically impossible to find one ready-made, non-black and non acid bright and in my price range, I head to online fabric stores. There I select a suiting category. The Rochas top I want to duplicate is composed of wool and silk, in 70%-30% proportion, a practical blend with a touch of luxury.
But what provides the right amount of structure is called weave. There are several types of weaves: plain, twill, satin, basket. While all of them can be used for blazers, trousers, and suiting, each of them gives a slightly different flow to the garment.
In twill weave, threads meet diagonally, which gives the garment a softer drape reminiscent of dreamy Greco-Roman sculpture. In plain weave, threads cross at right angles and the garment broadcasts the practicality of Fachwerkhaus architecture.
Since what I am after is an elevated version of a t-shirt, I will need the practicality of a Fachwerkhaus. I need a plain weave, not twill. I would like to know this before I order my swatches, but none of the big fabric stores list this feature in their descriptions. This also makes Google searches useless. I need to manually go through all the silk-wool blends, hoping to spot the right weave. This is a time-consuming endeavor, which is why dressing with purpose turns into a quest.
Fabric stores do not put this information into their descriptions, and neither do ready to wear retailers, because the public does not seek it. The public does not seek it because women’s ability to dress with purpose atrophied a long time ago. It gave way to fitting into revolving door of the trends or proving something to someone, which disconnected girls and women from themselves. If this situation continues, we will never get out of the vicious circle of over consumption and female anxiety epidemic. When I think how many problems we could avoid if women knew what represents them and had tools to find it, I want to scream. The change however starts with us, individual consumers. Educating women how to dress with purpose is what keeps me from living my life just smelling the roses.