The distinction seems to be length.
A friend’s story about how she and her siblings inherited a nun’s habit, and how it’s been used through two generations to dress superheroes, Hogwarts students, and Halloween witches, encouraged my whole cape and cloak adventure.
Initially, the mother of my young friend drew me a little diagram of a simple cape with instructions to cut and hem a rectangle, gather the top with elastic, and add ribbons at the neck to tie. (I think I recommend the versatility of this version.)
But for the capes going north for make believe in Alaska, I used a pattern. I enjoyed figuring out the whole thing – so much is new to me these days – patterns you download, print, and piece together, a PDF of instructions, smaller seam allowances. These capes, with hoods and pockets can be reversed – but my first attempt at sewing on buttons led to buttons too tight to fit through fastening loops.
But I have a friend, a favorite, funny person, who is a master seamstress – queen of custom sewing – I’m convinced she can sew anything. She routinely wrestles huge sofas and boat upholstery for her clients, but when I asked her to describe a less utilitarian creation, she wrote, “Drag queen dresses for a coronation ball in 1979. Nobody rocks a two-foot headdress better!”)
To my button inquiry she advised me to hold a wooden match between cape and button on each side while sewing. Awkwardly accomplished and perfect!
Now that I’ve seen the movie of “Little Women,” I realize Jo and her sisters could wear the Alaska capes. (Oh, the clothes in the film! Did you see the article about the costume designer? I loved reading about her work: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/on-and-off-the-avenue/how-jacqueline-durran-the-little-women-costume-designer-remixes-styles-and-eras ).
Lady B and Baby Brother won’t know about “Little Women,” and we’ll see what they make of these capes.* I didn’t say which cape for which, when I sent them, but his mom told me that Baby Brother’s favorite color these days is pink.
Making things – such a fine way to stay inside one’s head for a while and see what might be there – but I’m probably cloaked and caped out for now!
*Addendum: One evening, after sending the capes, I responded to a FaceTime call from Alaska. The phone connected and a darkened room, lit only by candlelight, came into view. Two hooded figures hunched over bowls of hearty soup, and a voice intoned: “…and at this inn this stormy night, two weary travelers break their journey…” One figure remained firmly in character while the other soon brandished a foam sword and requested more light. I loved it.
Love this whole story, and especially the image of the caped figures hunched over candlelight. What wonderful gifts these are, and so personalized – (I remember that wedding dress fabric, I think) with your imaginative choices of fabric and additions like little pockets. I remember my brother wearing one of his prized Halloween costumes (bought, no doubt, from a store, since my mom didn’t sew) of a Zorro cape, a black hat, and a black eye mask. He, too, was brandishing a sword!
Thank you Carol! – and I so loved that phone call with hooded figures. It’s fun to think of your brother in his Zorro cape!
I’m going to have to up my cape game. Forty years ago I made my boys cloaks from two of my old long wraparound skirts. (I did add hoods.) I recently turned a pretty Amazon git bag into a cape for Josie. But no hood. I ADORE the way they thanked you!!!
I think I never used to realize what magic a cape can be, and I’m impressed by your early ones with hoods!
Love hearing your story of the little ones on FB and your tips for caps and buttons. Maybe one day I will get to make a cape for a wee one of mine. First, though, I think I need to get mine thinking kids!
Think of the fabric you will have! First things first though – you are headed that way!