Start with the question: what makes anything collectible? Supply and demand does. What else? The condition of the envelope ... the beauty of the envelope artwork ... cultural or historical significance ... a real postage stamp and a crisp cancellation stamp on a mail order envelope ... even the flotsam that occasionally turns up tucked into the envelope by a former owner! Here is an overview of what makes a pattern valuable.
Like art prints, only a limited number of patterns were originally printed, based on the expected demand at the time. We may never know how many, but we can make certain generalizations: more lingerie and nightwear patterns were printed than wedding gowns. More women's dresses than men's suits. More baby clothes than prom dresses. More aprons than bathing suits. You get the idea.
If you're selling patterns, you will notice trends come and go. As of this date, Hollywood Patterns featuring photos of 40s starlets are highly sought after. Aprons are hot right now. Barbie is a perennial favorite, but a near mint Vogue doll pattern is worth a heck of a lot more.
The only mint condition pattern I have ever seen was an empty envelope distributed to a store for use in their marketing. The flap had never been folded over and there wasn't even a size printed on the outside of the envelope. The fact that there weren't any pattern pieces at all was a minor detraction, but hey, the envelope was a piece of mint condition, frameable artwork! If it sounds like I'm being a bit tough on condition, you're right. Most of the pattens I see are either "good" or "very good." A few are "excellent" and maybe half a dozen in the several thousand in my collection are "near mint." Chances are, if you set out to buy a mint pattern from the store today, you couldn't find one. Patterns get damaged in various ways in the printing and shipping process. Just stuffing all those pattern pieces into the envelope creases the edges. Take the pattern pieces out just once and you'll probably tear the opening putting them back in. Here is a first cut at establishing a standard for describing the condition of patterns.
Not being much of a sewer, I collect patterns for the beauty of their artwork, and to my mind, the McCall's patterns of the 1940s represent the height of fashion illustration until New Look Patterns reached their flambuoyant zenith in the 80s. Art lovers also watch for topical illustration eg. a toy rocket ship on a late 60s children's pattern that signals the rise of the world's space programs. Edwardian (1920s) patterns, with their soft feminine drapery and bias cut layers, are just plain amazing to me!
Hollywood Patterns are the earliest example of celebrity patterns that I have seen, but others may exist (tell me! send me pics!). Photos of famous designers popped up from time to time, and Miss Frances of American television's "Ding Dong School" promoted a child's educational apron with her picture. The "celebrity series" of patterns originated in the 1970s with TV's "That Girl," Marlo Thomas, and went on to showcase Linda Evans , Diahnne Carroll and the rest of the cast of "Dynasty," fashion's evening soap opera. Brook Shields and a host of others followed.
Apparently only Vogue had an exclusive contract with the haute couture designers of Paris. Admittedly, some of Vogue's interpretations were pretty tame, but others had a style and flare that is recognizable even today. A mail order pattern company operating under the name "Prominent Designer Pattern" brought Paris, Milan, and Jackie K's styles to rural dressmakers. Designers featured by this company included Edith Head, Carolyn Schnurer, Oleg Cassini, Nat Kaplan, Estevez, Philip Hulitar, Gothé, Alan Phillips, Isabel Dobson and Muriel King, to name a few that have flowed through my hands.
I will admit that my eye for art tends to move too quickly over the mail order patterns in their plain brown envelopes and two color printing process. But while I'm skimming, I look for an original envelope with mailing label intact (usually the label has the pattern number written on it, so don't let anyone sell you a mismatched pair!), a stamp (the stamp collectors often beat me to these collectibles), and the return address of a defunct newspaper. To mail order afficionados, a complete collection would be a combination of a seasonal mail order catalogue plus all the patterns that were described in it.
Surprisingly, many otherwise well used patterns have unused, intact transfer patterns. The transfer was issued as part of the pattern company's pattern marketing scheme, although busy mothers did not necessarily have time to embroider or applique a child's dress. Although methods exist to recreate a worn-out transfer, an original unused transfer adds significantly to a pattern's value.
Toys and trademarked goods fall into this category of collectible patterns. Think "Barbie," "Holly Hobbie," "Cabbage Patch Kids," etc. and you'll know what I mean. Even abstract artist Paul Klee's "Seneca" was briefly available as a 70s needlepoint pattern from Simplicity!
Wartime patterns are a particular favorite of mine (in keeping with my 40s fixation!). During that time, both the Canadian and American governments encouraged dressmakers to cut down on the amount of fabric that went into a dress. Skirts narrowed, hemlines rose, and flowing gowns became a thing of the past as women everywhere adopted the new regulations. [Of course some people flaunted the regulations, giving rise to the fabric-wasting "zoot suit" which sparked riots between soldiers and too-cool civilians in big cities across North America, but that is another story!] Pattern makers, stuck with non-regulation stock on their hands, did their patriotic bit for the country by saving paper: they simply stamped their patterns "This pattern does not meet Canadian WPTB Regulations," or words to that effect.
I use the term flotsam, the debris that floats around on the surface of the ocean after a shipwreck, to describe the bits and pieces that people tuck into pattern envelopes. I recommend keeping the flotsam with the pattern because it adds to its historical significance. Older patterns (with the exception of McCall's) were often undated. Finding a receipt in an envelope, often from a defunct department store, can be particularly exciting. Similarly, finding a piece of fabric in an envelope gives another tantalizing little glimpse into the past. If you're lucky, your Vogue Pattern will have a "Vogue Special Edition" dressmaker's tag tucked into the envelope (you generally had to ask for a tag, and most seamstresses couldn't be bothered). My most exciting find was a red plastic elastic shuttle tucked with the original elastic and bias tape into a 1940s clown costume. The shuttle almost made up for the fact that the pattern was just about in tatters with all that stuff inside.
I have an apron that was given away to promote the new printed pattern. Lori Hughes lists an Advance Pattern promoting the Jane Russell and Bob Hope movie "Paleface" that was given away compliments of Penneys. They are few and far between, which makes them that much more special!
Let's face it: collectors are categorizers. It is impossible to have a collection of patterns and not break it down into categories. My collection, for instance, consists of 1940s McCalls ... long-term investment pieces ... patterns I can sell to make more money to buy more 1940s McCalls and investment pieces ... and patterns that aren't worth the storage space I've allocated to them. It would be impossible to name them all, but here are the categories I've encountered in my chats with other collectors: turn of the century patterns, aprons, Hollywood general, Hollywood starlets, Barbie clothes, Cabbage Patch Kids, doll clothes in general, smocking transfer and clothing patterns (and instruction booklets), bridal, accessories, stuffed toys from the 1940s-50s, 60s flower power, 70s glam, 80s TV stars, patchwork and quilting patterns, 50s decor patterns (dressing table skirts, etc.), and so on. You name it, someone collects it. Value, of course, is another matter.
Look at demand, age, and condition, as a starting point. At this time, value is almost totally in the eye of the buyer. If the pattern you're selling is the missing piece in my collection, you could be looking at up to $US 100. That's almost as good as getting in on the eBay IPO if your original investment was 25¢ at a garage sale! Most of the time the price will range from a modest $US 3 to about $US 36. Lori Hughes lists a value range for more than 3,000 vintage patterns in her book A Century of American Sewing Patterns 1860 - 1959 Identification and Price Guide" available from Ms Hughes at Box 5595, Concord, CA 94524), but prices have definitely gone up since the 1998 edition to judge from Internet auction prices. Since part of the value of a pattern depends on its age, it is nice to know how old it is. Look in the fine print on the envelope for a copyright date. If there is no date, refer to Lori Hughes' book. Even if your pattern isn't listed in this extensive guide, she may have an illustration of a pattern in a similar envelope of a known date. It is this lack of dates that makes pattern counter books, seasonal pattern catalogues and flyers so valuable to collectors. After suitability, collectors look at the condition of the envelope, condition of the pieces, presence of the original instruction sheet. That is why it is vitally important to protect your collection from damage.
Store your patterns in a cool, dry room. What is the greatest risk facing your collection? Think about this for a moment before someone talks you into shelling out a fortune for mylar sleeves for your collection. IMHO, it is handling damage and water (including humidity problems). Handling damage can be minimized with just about any kind of plastic bag, humidity is managable with air conditioners, and the most expensive mylar in the world won't protect your collection against freakish storms and accompanying water damage (I live on the fringes of a tornado alley).
Bag your collection. Every time you riffle through your collection, every time you remove the pattern pieces to see if they are all there, every time you show a particularly precious piece to a friend you run the risk of widening existing tears or creating new ones in the brittle, high-acid paper that pattern envelopes are made of. Sticky fingerprints become dark age spots over time, and you can imagine the mess cookies crumbs will make! Here are four plastic sleeve options to minimize handling damages. Mylar is the plastic of choice for archivists, but it can be expensive, hard to find, and so rigid that it won't provide a good flap to keep out moisture or insects. Polypropylene is the plastic of choice for your most valuable patterns. Buy it at your local comic book specialty store. Everything except the large Vogue Patterns will fit in these sleeves. Ask for low-acid cardboard backers to reduce wear on the pattern itself. One day the polypro industry will recognize pattern collectors and create sleeves and backers just for us, but right now they just don't get it! Polyethylene bags can be bought inexpensively by the boxful from local plastic bag suppliers. Polyethylene is not recommended for long-term store of valuable materials, but again, don't get snowed by the sales pitch: handling is your biggest risk factor. Finally, if you are absolutely destitute and they are available where you live, use the plastic bags that milk is sold in (wash really well and turn inside out). Archivists would be horrified, but this is the real world not the Smithsonian.
File your bagged collection upright. Next on the high risk list is water damage. I recently pulled an old course binder out from its storage place between a filing cabinet and an outside wall. Although no water actually leaked into my suite, the pages were stuck together with black mould. I won't miss the course notes, but I'm sure glad that my patterns were safely stashed in the middle of the spare bedroom! And many times I've found a priceless box of patterns at a garage sale with the tell-tale odor of mildew. Basements and attics destroy patterns: if that's where yours are stored, you won't win any brownie points with buyers. Once you have placed your patterns in the best plastic sleeve you can afford, store them upright (not flat) so that if your pipes burst and flood the floor, you have a few more precious moments to rescue your collection. If the roof collapses over them ... pray!
Protect from the sun. Ever left a newspaper sitting on the back seat of your car in the summer? Some envelopes age attractively, but in doing so they turn as brittle as a bag of potato chips! And brittle patterns simply aren't worth as much as a comparable pattern in unyellowed condition.
Search and destroy! Left unchecked, mice will turn your collection into colorful bedding. The famous American bird artist J.J. Audubon learned that the hard way when mice destroyed all of his early paintings in the course of a single winter. Insects will gnaw characteristic little holes around the edges of the pattern. Use your nose and your eyes when you bring new patterns into your collection. If you buy a cardboard box filled with patterns, throw that old cardboard box out immediately. Always! Trust me on this - you'll find new boxes! Unfold suspicious-looking patterns and "quarantine" them if necessary! If you see a spider, Miss Muffet, you've got an infestation of tiny bugs: spiders don't eat paper, they eat other insects.
People who sew can be divided into three categories from the perspective of people who collect patterns: the Dreamers, the Careful Ones and the Careless Ones. By knowing how they work, you can speed up your pattern buying process and get around to more garage sales on a Saturday morning. Dreamers buy patterns because the design captures their fancy. They take the pattern home and dream over all the wonderful things they will make ... but they never get around to it. When you find a stash of these, do a sniff test for mildew, and if your nose comes up negative, open your wallet and give the seller their asking price. The Careful Ones use the pattern and carefully put all the pieces back into the envelope. Some use pins to keep the bits together, some wrap elastics around a torn envelope, others carefully sort tiny doll clothes pieces into labelled envelopes or put the whole thing into a clean milk bag. Envelope flaps are carefully tucked down around the pattern pieces and instruction sheet. When you see some evidence of this level of care in a box of patterns, you're probably going to find most of the patterns are complete, although the pins and elastics will have caused damage. Be willing to pay for a collection like this. The Careless Ones want to get their dress made and get on with the next task. Making another dress is the last thought on their mind. You know you're looking at a Careless Collection when you see floating individual pattern pieces, grossly torn envelopes with nothing holding the bits together, pieces sticking willy-nilly out of the tops of envelopes, black mildew spots ... in short, yuck! Your first offer on a lot like this should be to take them off the seller's hands for free. You'll spend hours sorting and the most precious patterns will turn up with critical pieces missing. [Note: keep the Careless Collections together until you sort through them. A few of those missing pattern pieces will turn up in other envelopes. We're talking major mess here!]
Once they served a purpose, to keep the pattern pieces, instructions and envelope together. But pins rust and devalue your pattern. In the short term, elastics crush and tear the envelope. Over the years, elastics rot and leave little crumbs that stick to everything. Get those pins out ASAP! Toss those disgusting elastics! Get your pattern into a bag of some shape or form! If you're dealing with a zillion little doll or toy pieces, store the pieces in a thin white envelope. Again, never mind the archivist's chatter about "high acid": ask yourself "What is my biggest risk?" If you've ever sorted the pieces for doll's clothing (and looked frantically for a tiny missing bridal veil or an itsy bitsy blouse) you'll agree loss of pieces is your most immediate risk.
Early patterns were cut one size to an envelope. If a piece is missing, you may never find a replacement in the right size. On the other hand, some patterns are not size specific. Dolls, toys, and other novelty items often came in a single size (or small/medium/large doll) so, given the high value of these patterns, it makes sense to hang on to every scrap of a pattern you turn up. Also keep in mind that some collectors are willing to pay for a beautiful envelope ... the missing pieces just aren't important to them.
In time, the stickers will probably fall off by themselves (leaving a little white square behind, in most cases!). If you try to remove it yourself, you risk damaging the envelope. So what if you only paid 25¢ for it at the Goodwill store? I'd rather deal with a canny shopper than buy a torn envelope. Many stores stamped "No Return on Patterns" along with the store name on the face of the envelope. If you are buying a new pattern for your "mint" collection and the clerks get the ink pad out, stop them. On an old pattern, just accept it as part of the beauty and history of your pattern. If you know the history of the store, note the information on a slip of paper and store it with the pattern. As patterns are shipped all over the continent, this information will become more important to the buyer. Imagine 500 identical patterns from 500 different North American department stores! What a tribute that would be to a dying breed of stores!
Collect what you love. Collect what catches your eye. Choose a theme. Go forward in time buying only mint condition new patterns. Go backward in time buying vintage patterns. Get yourself a copy of Lori Hughes' book so you know what's out there. Here are a few ideas to get you going.
Lots of people collect paper stuff, and some of it is incredibly valuable. I don't know about you, but frankly, I'm too old to collect comic books and too much of a Luddite to collect TV Guides (to name two of the categories that plastic bag manufacturers cater to). I want something that reflects the beauty of women's arts over the years. Something that my grandmother might have dreamed over. Something that reflects a slower pace of life. Like all other collectibles, patterns will continue to increase in value as long as men and women have the disposable income to spend on them. But be warned: patterns will come and go in vogue. Today's hot seller may not last. In 1972, I was wearing bell bottoms to high school. In 1982, I searched stores everywhere for the wide-shouldered, narrow skirted look of the 1940s. Over 25 years later, high school students are raiding their mother's pattern boxes for vintage bell bottom patterns, while I'm spending hard cash for 40s patterns. Will that high school student, 25 years down the road, be looking for 40s patterns or will she still be rummaging around for 70s patterns? Like any other investment, the secret lies in analyzing the trends, making inexpensive purchases, storing securely, and selling judiciously. If you can do that, you're on your way to an exciting new opportunity in the world of collectibles!
A Beginner's Guide to Pattern Collecting by Jennifer Warris, copyright 1999 Questions? Comments? Think I'm out to lunch? Want to take me out to lunch? Oops, sorry ... This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it me!
