A necessary garment

 I usually don't write about my undergarments here on this blog, because frankly it isn't any of your business. I make an exception here.

A full slip or a wardrobe of full slips used to be part of any adult woman's wardrobe. Back when most women's dresses and suits were made out of wool wearing a full slip made wearing the wool dress more comfortable than wearing itchy wool against the skin.

A slip also provided a layer of modesty. Once could wear a lace or sheer dress or blouse and not show more of yourself than you wanted to. I also noticed not long ago that when I wore a full slip under a knit dress that had worn thin in spots,  a full slip camouflaged the worn bits so they weren't noticeable.

A slip keeps a garment from sticking to you--the outer garment "slips" and glides over a slip clad body rather than gripping or clinging to undergarments or skin. A slip can make a dress appear to fit and flatter the wearer a bit better than not wearing a slip.

A slip can also offer a sleek layer of warmth.

I had made myself a simple thick strapped black slip (similar to the one on the upper right of the Layne Bryant ad above) a long time ago and wore it until it died a few years ago. A few years ago I purchased a replacement black slip on Amazon. It worked OK but the fabric was grippy as opposed to slippy which makes the slip less than useful, and the fit itself was pretty unflattering.

I knew that the time had come to make myself a black full slip. I had purchased a couple of possible slip fabrics in the intervening years but hadn't gotten my act together to make a slip. 

Last week I finally tackled the task. I had purchased some nylon tricot a few weeks ago,  Nylon tricot is often used for slip making. It wears like iron. I still wear a black half slip made of nylon tricot that my mother bought me in the early 1980s. I have replaced the elastic at least twice. That half slip may out live me (as long as I continue to replace the elastic every once in a while).

I used another full slip that I had made a few years ago  out of gold and black striped Lurex as my patter. That is one of the joys of making your own clothes. You can own a full slip that makes you look like a bumblebee if you want to. I adjusted and edited as I cut the fabric accounting for the fact that this woven tricot had far less stretch than the striped gold Lurex (I actually wanted something that didn't glimmer through my clothes).  I am sure that there are charts that tell you how to convert the actual amount of stretch into an actual mathematical formula. I just cut a little bit bigger than my original slip. This time, my guestimation methods worked. If  they hadn't, I would have figured out a workable solution, perhaps adding a godet at the side seams or added a strip of lace into the center of the slip. 

 I also didn't like where I had attached the straps on back of the Lurex slip. It took me far too long to realize that to keep slip straps from falling off your shoulders you need to attach the straps closer to your spine than to the outer edge of your back.

I could have played a bit more with the strap placement but figured that attaching both at the center back would do the job without any complicated figuring out.

I could have done something fancy with the straps but I made them out of turned tubes of the same tricot. I did line the top of the bodice front. It sounds like a fancy added step but the lining meant that I didn't have to figure out a fancy edging for the top hem.

Often the neckline of a slip is embellished but I kept the neckline plain. I added deep darts to shape the body of the slip to fit my body.

My friend Mori used to work at a famous lingerie company whose pink catalogs you probably got in the 1980s and 90s.  Once a year they would hold a sale for their employees. They used to sell undergarments for a pittance but they also sold offcuts of fabrics and trims. Mori gave me a bag of fabric and trimmings from one of those sales. One of the bits that I didn't use all those years ago was a wide mesh galloon embroidered  in gold. I thought it would be an excellent hem for my new slip.

My new slip was worn more than once over this past weekend in Boston.  It did all the things that a full slip needed to do. It kept my dresses from appearing too sheer. The slip added a layer of warmth. It also  helped my dresses skim rather than cling to my body.

I now own enough tricot to make lots of full slips to meet all of my full slip needs for the next very long time.