Why vintage patterns?

During the last week I have spent many hours beginning to catalog my pattern collection. I pull each pattern out and type up relevant details into a spreadsheet. I open each pattern to make sure every piece (and instruction sheet!) is still present and usable. I research years for patterns that are unmarked with a copyright date. I laugh at some styles and wonder at others. I shake my head and mourn over the fact that not a single pattern envelope prior to the 1970s shows a person of color. I relate to how many patterns are still factory folded, proving that once again a sewist was more ambitious than they had time for—or simply changed creative direction.

One pattern in particular was special this week: Simplicity 3724 from 1941, described as a “child’s bolero suit,” in size 4. The proud sewist of this pattern had tucked away the fabric scraps leftover from cutting out the suit. I imagine rather like keeping a congratulations card or a snip of hair from baby’s first haircut. Not a particularly practical treasure, but a treasure none-the-less. And what a lovely fabric it is! I believe it is rayon and the print is just an amazing modern-retro midcentury delight. Through this little scrap, I feel connected to the hands and hearts that touched this simple package of paper 80 years ago.

I’ve been pondering why I felt the urge to purchase and take on such an insane project as managing a 1400 item pattern library. But this is it. It is because it truly touches so many things I love: creativity, sewing, fabric, design, fashion, history, practical crafts, beautiful illustrations, and more. Each small, unassuming envelope full of delicate tissue paper holds history, hope, success, failure, and learning.

I don’t know where I’m going on this adventure, but going I am. In my dream world, I figure out how to loan patterns out from my library. In my dream world I collect more patterns, particularly from other countries and cultures. In my dream world, I help people connect the past to their own future. Because, after all, a pattern is inherently a creative hope, an idea for what might be, a possibility.