Leafing through wartime copies of Woman magazine, a British publication, I can’t help but admire certain aspects of the severity of UK fashion during the war. I’m not a particularly girly girl — I’ve discussed my love of a little light cross-dressing elsewhere — so I find some common fashion trends of the 1940s (frills, Peter Pan collars, puffed sleeves) hard to wear because they feel fussy and infantilizing, which is the last thing a 21st-century woman needs. But in wartime Britain nearly all women were working women, so fashion also had to focus hard on function. Before there were jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt, the tweed suit was the British woman’s Getting Things Done outfit. Really good suits often featured gloriously lean, stiletto-sharp tailoring. Check out Sherry here. She may be mad, but man does she look hot. That outfit’s as streamlined as a shark.

Actually, I feel like I’ve seen that look somewhere before.

I would love to get my hands on one of those rakish little lady-trilbies — all the vintage-inspired milliners on the internets seem to be exclusively hung up on things involving feathers and netting. And a smart little tweed SUIT! I wonder how many more years it’ll take me to feel confident making my own vintage suits.

Here’s another woman sporting some sexy cross-dressing at work (the article is a breathless military-romance story about peril in the jungle). When was the last time the ordinary woman could rock jodhpurs?

"How badly hurt are you?" Stephen asked Harriet. "I could sit in front of you on your horse," she replied. Yeah. I'll just bet you could.

Meanwhile, back on the home front, here’s a DIY design for a fabric-economical blouse with a tie waist and horizontal tucks to add bust interest. With a toned-down sleeve cap, this would make up very nicely today into a slightly boxy blouse to wear over high-waisted skinny jeans or a pencil skirt.

Here’s another article highlighting a newfound problem for women: how to stay beautiful while balancing a demanding work schedule and a personal life. Ah, the old third shift!

Here’s a glimpse into some female bedtime rituals of the time: “It’s a bitter disappointment for a man who led a glamorous bride to the altar to have to spend his life with a greasy-creamed, curling-papered, chin-strapped wife.” Very true. Men must never be exposed to the machinery of beauty. Which is why I always sedate my boyfriend with a tranquilizer dart before embarking on my nightly toilette.

The good news: smoking still okay

Speaking of real vs. ideal:

But one takeaway message from women’s magazines is the same in every era and on both sides of the Atlantic: Purify your foul, noisome lady bits!

Dettol + “delicate tissues” = AAAAAHHHH.

Here’s a silent film short of unknown date (looks postwar to me) showcasing austerity fashions by designer Peter French. I like how curiously astringent some of the models look, even when smiling. However, there are some interesting fashion ideas here — love the cascading pleat detail on that straight skirt, and now I just have to try elbow gloves with a button-back blouse.  I particularly like the playsuit/convertible skirt beach ensemble — the cape is perfect for huddling under on those summer days when lashing winds are whipping damp sand across your exposed flesh.

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Back in the days when designers could be bothered with plus sizes, in-store mannequins (i.e. models) were needed to show them off to customers. This wartime film follows a chic plus-size model with the delightfully gothic name of Mrs. Danvers through an average day.  Note to furriners: Mrs. Danvers weighs 182 lbs. or 82.5 kg. For some unknown reason, the British claim to understand human body weight only when given in “stones” (units of 14 lbs.) Honestly. Tell a Brit how much you weigh and they’ll pretend they have no idea what you mean.

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Attention ladies: the time has gone when smart women wear slacks in the house! That’s right, the war’s over — drop that spanner/scythe/anti-aircraft gun and get back to pouring tea, tinkling on the piano and making bright, inconsequential chitchat. “Day Wear, Gay Wear” features some admittedly very smart little outfits in enviable fabrics (chenille on a georgette background, anyone?).

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This 1941 film with the amusingly patronizing title “Ladies! Here is news for you!” features fashions from an America not yet at war. The timing is particularly cruel when you consider that less than a month after this fashion flash was released, the UK would enter the long dark night of clothing rationing, which was to last a brutal 8 years. Also, from the sound of the commentary, our narrator seems to have had a few himself. Eek!

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A great way to use up all those spare petticoats you’ve got lying around the house. Enjoy!

• Download: Re-Make Wrinkles (PDF, 1.14 MB)

• Men’s and boys’ wear: jackets, blazers and trousers

Despite the fact that the wartime restrictions on women’s clothing were, at first glance, far more numerous and detailed than men’s, it was the men who complained the loudest. The Board of Trade stated in a July 1943 submission to the Select Committee on National Expenditure:

The main criticisms of these restrictions have come from the men’s side (which is natural enough, since in women’s garments they cause little or no difference from the conventional point of view — which is what seems to matter most with the public). The men’s tailors in particular have complained that they are constantly pressed by their customers to evade the restrictions…

It’s hardly surprising that bespoke tailors, many of whom no doubt catered to the sort of man who wafts through life in the cheerful conviction that rules were not meant to apply to him, came under pressure to make suits in pre-austerity styles. The restrictions instantly dropped an axe through a range of male garments that had been popular for decades, especially among the upper classes — the Norfolk jacket, Oxford bags and waistcoats adorned by watch chains, to name a few.

The total ban on trouser turn-ups (US=cuffs), though, provoked public ire that transcended class. There were earnest debates in Parliament, huffy Letters to the Editor and plaintive appeals to reason. But Hugh Dalton, head of the Board of Trade, refused to yield, saying, “There can be no equality of sacrifice in this war. Some must lose lives and limbs; others only the turn-ups on their trousers.” Nevertheless, the restrictions were so unpopular that the Board of Trade had to crack down on tailors found to be profiting from a willingness to “accidentally” make trouser legs a few inches too long, necessitating the coveted turn-ups.

Warning to Tailors

Offences against the Making of Civilian Clothing (Restrictions) Orders are so rife that the Board of Trade has decided that offenders will be summoned… In the present case [a Soho tailor named King had been prosecuted] the number of pockets in the jacket and waistcoat had been exceeded and the trousers had turn-ups and the width of the bottom exceeded 19 in. King, in a statement to a Board of Trade inspector, had said:– “I admit I have made about 45 to 50 suits in a non-austerity style during the past 10 months, but if I had not done so my business would have ended. I only made these suits to oblige my customers.”

– The Times, 1943

The wartime austerity restrictions on clothing may have been unpopular, but they did the job. The Board of Trade continued:

The aim [of the clothing restrictions] is to eliminate extra pockets, pleats, trouser turn-ups, embroidery and other details which were not necessary for the general convenience of wearers and which involve unnecessary use of labour and/or materials. They also in many instances limit the number of styles that any individual manufacturer may make, in order to encourage long runs of production which save labour. As much flexibility as possible was left however: for example, while a man’s coat must not have more than three pockets, these pockets may be placed wherever the customer or clothier desires. The restrictions on women’s clothes still leave the possibility of an almost infinite variety of style and design…

The saving of labour and materials by these restrictions on manufactured clothing is very substantial indeed. In respect of men’s, youths’ and boys’ outer clothing the total yearly saving at the present rate of production is about 1.5 million sq. yds of woollen cloth and 1.25 million sq. yds of pocketing material. The restriction on the length of men’s socks [no more than 9 inches] save over 2 million lbs a year of wool. In addition… there is a substantial saving in the use of buttons, buckles, hooks and bars, most of which are made from very scarce raw material. The restrictions have substantially increased production per man-hour; the saving of labour on men’s, youths’ and boys’ clothing is estimated at between 5% and 10%… In all, these restrictions may have saved labour represented by the time of 10,000 workers.

As satisfying to page through as Vogue in its own homely way, Woman is a typical women’s weekly magazine of the day, serving up a mélange of starchy advice columns, knitting patterns, fashion and beauty tips, household hints, schmaltzy short fiction and recipes — all with an unmistakably British stamp.

It’s absolutely impossible to read these issues and not be acutely aware there’s a war on. Nearly every article and ad is saturated with the realities and the mood of war — changed lifestyles, separation, extra work, rationing, shortages, challenges, anxiety, duty.

Rather unfairly, manufacturers of beauty and fashion goods advertised their wares even when there was depressingly little chance that women would actually be able to buy them:

But some things never change — in this case, the barrage of remedies for the bewildering profusion of digestive problems from which the women of Britain apparently suffer. (Seriously, am I the only woman on this island who doesn’t struggle with the mysterious affliction known as bloating? Probably not, but you’d never know it from the countless female-targeted ads for antacids, probiotic yogurts and, yes, laxatives.)

But I digress. Here’s an interesting insight into the received wisdom on personal hygiene in the 1940s. Remember, ladies, deodorize every few days and floss once a week! (James, wandering past the bathroom one night: “You floss?“)

Here’s a great example of what fashion editors had to contend with during the years of austerity restrictions, clothing rationing and shortages galore. “Here, love, pin a bit of dustmop on that butt-ugly frock!” I’ve left the image uncropped so you can also see a sample of the tepidly torrid fiction favored by Woman.

Finally, a sweet and innovative touch — colorful motifs for women to embroider to show in what branch of the forces their husband or sweetheart was serving:

Brazenly you can proclaim where your interest lies by working the emblem of your choice on the pocket of your dress, on a lapel, or on a scarf. More secretly you can decorate a slip, or work his emblem in the palm of your glove.

The look of British clothing during the war was largely owing to the Making of Civilian Clothing (Restrictions) Orders, a series of legislative measures passed in 1942 and 1943 whose aim was to minimize the amount of labor and materials diverted from the war effort into the garment industry. These austerity restrictions applied to all clothing sold commercially, whether made by mass producers, by local dressmakers or by high-end bespoke tailors (who tended to kick up the most fuss).

When researching this subject online, I kept coming across the same handful of factoids on austerity restrictions, which were mostly either recycled generalities (the number of pleats in a skirt was limited, trouser turn-ups were forbidden, etc.) or inaccuracies (hemlines were dictated by law). I was frustrated by my inability to get a complete picture of the government’s design decrees. Nowhere could I find the original orders, or even a tolerably complete set of restrictions, reproduced online.

Fortunately for me, I enjoy a unique advantage when seeking out obsolete pieces of 70-year-old secondary legislation. I work for Parliament, which means that the parliamentary archives, where the original austerity orders can be accessed, are a four-minute walk from my desk. After a bit of rummaging, the friendly archivists there dug out a bound and yellowed volume of the Statutory Rules and Orders from 1942. Voilà! My long-sought Making of Civilian Clothing (Restrictions) Orders, which I will be reproducing in a series of posts. I’ve stripped away the preliminary hocus-pocus but left the meat of the orders intact, and put my own comments in [italics and square brackets]. Follow the link below to read all about

Here a model gamely demonstrates several ways of wearing a headscarf:

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This film shows how to make one dress do duty all week long by adding collars, waistcoats, false bodices and other embellishments:

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I showed that video to James, who wasn’t convinced. “‘Lancelot’s coming over — put on a pinny!’ That’s the best you can do for a Knight of the Round Table?“

Here are several ways to wear the ubiquitous turban — some more successful than others:

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Here’s her method for making your own handbag (assuming you could obtain a hide, which was a pretty big assumption at the time):

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And here’s her advice for making women’s hats from hubby’s. The amount of millinery skill she assumes is pretty impressive — how many women do you suppose actually owned a hat block?

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I like how some of these fashion ideas are so dubious even the models betray visible uncertainty. Still, it’s a great insight into how much innovation was required to stay smart in wartime.

And now for the giveaway!

Up for grabs is one copy of Complete Dressmaking in Pictures, a postwar British dressmaking guide edited by Constance Howard and published by Odhams Press. Those of you accustomed to freewheeling American vintage sewing books may be amused by the comparatively prim illustrations.

Others overwhelmed by the proliferation of sewing advice available in books and on the internet may enjoy how blessedly simple it makes sewing look by reducing the options to an acceptable few techniques.

The book also includes instructions for how to draft basic pattern blocks and adapt them to make the illustrated designs.

The Complete Dressmaking in Pictures giveaway is open to readers everywhere — just leave a comment below about your favorite wartime fashion tip! I’ll be picking a winner at noon (London time) on Monday, April 19.