Does this ever happen to you? One day you notice something odd, or new, or both, and then over the next several days (weeks, months, years) you start noticing the same phenomenon ALL THE TIME. There's a name for this; believe it or not — it's called diegogarcity.
And, anyway, I must have given you all diegogarcity, big time, with the fake boleros, because you are all now seeing them everywhere. Here's a recent submission, from Lorraine (or, seeing as she prefers to be known by her Sewing Conspiracy Drag Name, Dixie S. Hoyt):
This one is SLIGHTLY more elegant than some of the other candidates, but it's still fakety-fake-fake.
If you can live with the deception and the tissue of lies, click on the image to visit Woodland Farms Antiques; the pattern's a B39 and $15.
And keep those fake-bolero entries coming, if you would … maybe later we can have a fake-bolero-off. (You know, like a contest, with voting. Because the actual fake boleros DON'T COME OFF.)
A Dress A Day 
eirlys: I think 20th Century redingotes can have a variety of shapes. It basically has the look of a coat over a dress, yet is thin enough to not need removal indoors. It doesn’t have to look like a coat. Here are 2 versions I found (neither of which I’m crazy about) Designers got versatile with this; notice one is flannel and the other chiffon. http://i87.photobucket.com/albums/k148/kfmost/Patterns%20-%20Examples/Redingote.jpghttp://www.oldpatterns.com/jumper/3960mccall.jpg
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I think all three punishments are descended upon one who makes a pact with the sewing devil – eating pins, resewing seams and visiting trolls.
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So did redingotes evolve or de-evolve, as the case may be, into dusters?(although in the country/outback a duster is not a coat you wear indoors.)Aw you all are too smrt – I mean smart for me.
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Don’t worry, Lorrwill: Reningotes are pretty uncommon items, and I didn’t know what one was until I saw a picture of a 1930’s movie star in one and though “What’s THAT?” In fact, the book said they seem to become less popular each time they’re revived. I still don’t even know how to pronounce the word, and I have to check its spelling each time! I would think dusters would have evolved out of reningotes…because I think of those as being Edwardian, and reningotes may have appeared around the time of Napoleon? (sp?)
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Thanks Cookie: those were really interesting, though I think I’m blind to the subtler distinctions between these garments of coatness (still loving it, La Belladonna!). Stands to reason that they must be somehow related to dusters, Lorrwill. Is the duster so-called because you stay home and do a little light dusting in it (I’m thinking Doris Day) or is that too obvious?There’s a bit on Wikipedia here about redingotes : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Redingote It seems to have been an 18th Century French attempt to say the English “riding coat”. I’m guessing that the resulting continental garments would have had far more panache than their English cousins – it was ever thus – and I’m also guessing that they were so obviously more stylish than the English originals that the French started to export them back to England, thus our use of the Frenchy term. But that’s the sloppy kind of logic that means I’d never make the grade as a lexicographer.There’s probably a good term for these words that jump lock, stock and barrel straight into another language, but I don’t know it. Any enlightenment you can offer here, Erin? Another example is the Japanese word for suit, which sounds like “Savirow” and is a corruption of “Saville Row”: the street in London famous for its tailors. But that might open the floodgates on a whole slew of new posts about eponymous places, because fabric and clothing names are littered with them. My favourite has absolutely nothing to do with either: the Russian for railway station sounds like “vaxhal” which, the story goes, was lifted straight from the South London train station, Vauxhall. Apparently, a delegation of 19th Century Russian railway developers did some reconnoitering there and approved – or maybe misunderstood which part of the term “Vauxhall Station” meant “station”! Who knows? This is mystifying if you’ve ever spent any time waiting for a train at this not-very-impressive station. Why not Clapham Junction, say, with it’s dozens of platforms? If any Londoners/railways enthusiasts know the answer to this conundrum, please let me know: it bothers me.Sorry, that mention of “eponymous” was a bit showy-offy, but I love the word and think it needs dusting off every now and again. I’ve hardly ever used it since my English degree. An “eponym” is one who gives his name to a people, place or institution – says my ancient concise Oxford, so, if you’re talking about novels, the eponymous hero of ‘Tom Jones’ by Fielding, say, is Tom Jones. Easy. But my favourite eponymists – in terms of daily usage – would probably have to be Earl Grey, or possibly the Seventh Earl of Cardigan. See, the aristocracy exists for a reason!
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OH MY! The Vauxhall Station in London should most appropriately only have shops that sell faux clothing! And that means we can now call all Russian train stations…fauxhalls.
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Goodness Cookie! No picture yet? Do you think you have some kind of image schizophrenia or multiple image disorder? I only ask because I have multiple home decor disorder. I can never decide if I am mid-century, Danish Modern, Asian Modern, Traditional or French Country. (I hope you did not think I was insulting you!)
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No…sadly, I have not committed to a final image yet. I had high hopes for this little lady. I named her Taffy and was going to add big Mr. Magoo style hornrimmed glasses to her, and be all done…but now I like the Betty Crocker looking lady (who still needs nostrils) or the “mottled” lady in the dark glasses. I believe they are our 2 finalists.
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hmm…trying to see if I can edit my image. I have decided Taffy has to go!
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There…better.
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I remember doing a lot of Fake Bolero dresses when I was in school. Mom was really good with the sewing machine and she did a lot of those cuts. I now realize that she was just saving time :PThanks for the word. I had been trying to remember the word for precisely this phenomenon.
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Heres one they admit to being a faux bolero, tho i wouldnt call it that exactly:http://www.burdafashion.com/en/Service/Fashion_history/Burda_fashions_Autumn_56_Winter_57/1000001-1617206-1609505-1609519.html
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Eirlys, you should start finding some lovely examples of “redingotes” at around 1780/85; many more around 1790. Look under “Directoire” “Incroyable” and “Marveilleuse”. And double-check the spellings, because I didn’t. 😉 The English “riding coat” became a popular item of apparel with the French, as they turned from highly formal wear, to the more “natural,” country-influenced clothing of the English. Once the French had it, it then became a “redingote,” and traveled back across the Channel to England.You will start seeing references to “mantuas” during the late 1660s; Sam Pepys’ wife had one. You’ll see more recognizable ones starting at about 1670. They started, basically, as a kimono-shaped (sleeves-in-one) robe with a belt, worn over a corset and petticoat, and formalized into styles that are more recognizably 18th century. Both the French sack-back gown (gown with wide pleats hanging loose at back), and the English robe (gown with fitted back, rather than wide pleats), evolved out of the “mantua”; the “mantua-maker” was one’s dressmaker, for rather longer than mantuas themselves were worn. By the time “redingotes” were being worn, the “mantua” was well on its way out for all but the most formal occasion. You should be able to find links to these clothes. The more modern “redingote” in its more familiar form seems to have crystallized starting about the 1930s, and was most worn between 1930-1960 (based solely on what I have seen). They’re not worn a lot, but they do still crop up, and I think they make a lovely alternative to the standard suit.
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