Years ago, I found a copy of The Classic Techniques on a charity store shelf. Inside the pink MC Escher-esque covers were psychedelic fashion photocollages interspersed with in-depth fashion and textile history and straightforward sewing tutorials. It was beautiful and very confusing. Further reading and research revealed it was the first issue of the Time-Life book series The Art of Sewing. There were fifteen more, all on different topics and each with its own unique textile-inspired cover. I immediately set about ordering the complete set, which, due to the huge circulation of Time-Life in its heyday and the resulting proliferation of the product, cost me less than one new hardcover.
Awareness of Time-Life Inc. and their various products will vary wildly between generations. As a Gen-Xer, television commercials for the ‘Best of Soul/ Disco/Oldies’ ad infinitum series (available on cassette tape AND compact disc), as well as the cheesy ‘Mysteries of the Unknown’ and ‘The Enchanted World’ book sets were part of my teenage soundtrack. Older generations will have grown up surrounded by the products and the marketing. Younger ones will likely have zero awareness.
The Art of Sewing is a thing of beauty. Published between 1974 and 1976, the series was introduced during the height of Time-Life books success. Started in 1960, the book series division intended to capitalise on the vast photo archives held by Time Inc., the parent company of both Time and Life magazines, both of which were known for their award-winning photography. Publishing and marketing guru Jerome Hardy shifted the model towards original content; the first series was the long-running 34-set Life World Library published between 1960-1967, this was the first of over 30 titles. The system operated as mail-order; you were sent one book to trial for a short time, and if you were happy, you kept it and were invoiced and sent the next book. The Classic Techniques, the first book, was sent free; each following book would arrive every other month and cost $6.95.
The Time-Life series were a huge success; in 1975, 10 percent of all American families owned at least one set, and the books earned $215 million in revenue. Earlier series dealt with educational topics like history, geography, and politics. When Joan Manley became publisher in 1970, she introduced practical subjects including cooking, DIY, and sewing, but with a prestige treatment.
From the beginning, the focus was on a quality product. Each series had its own dedicated staff, and appropriate industry experts were consulted. The Art of Sewing regularly featured Gretel Courtney, an author on couture and staff member at Fashion Institute of Technology and French Fashion Academy of New York; Annette Feldman, a knitting and crochet designer and writer and the renowned textile designer Julian Tomchin; then a teacher at Parsons School of Design and Coty Award winner and recipient of the Vogue Fabric Award as well as a changing roster of textile and design experts.
Each book covers a different topic within the same artfully designed format and satisfying tactile feel. The Time-Life books were intended to be kept and displayed. This didn’t come cheap – Manley estimated the investment in each series in the 1970s was $400,000. This equates to over £3m in today’s currency.
Ironically, the least interesting aspect of the series is the sewing instruction, which are merely absolutely fine and functional. It’s the accompanying history, contextual information, and lavish illustrations that make this set so spectacular. The books were published by the New York Graphic Society, an artistic imprint and subsidiary of Time Inc. The New York Graphic Society published fine art prints and worked with museums, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on their catalogues and imprints. This might explain the access and coverage of exhibitions such as The World of Balenciaga at the MOMA in 1973 and items by Mme. Paquin, Madeline Vionnet, and Paul Poiret held by the Costume Institute.
Each volume contains six chapters; the first chapter contextualises the book’s theme, introducing fashion and textile milestones from the Beau Brummell to more contemporary history like Paco Rabanne and Courreges. The incredible photocollages of Ryszard Horowitz enhance the text; the artistic handling of the images locates home textiles in glamorous contexts. Considering himself to be a ‘photocomposer,’ Horowitz had begun his career as an apprentice to Alexey Brodovitch, the art director credited alongside Carmel Snow for the reinvention of Harper’s Bazaar in the thirties.
This approach is what marks The Art of Sewing as unique. Instead of treating its readers like dowdy homemakers, it speaks to them as part of a historical continuum that places them alongside names like Chanel and Schiaparelli. Insets show designers Valentino, Margarita Missoni, and Bill Blass at work in their ateliers. Blass is fitting an uncredited Ingrid Boulting, who shows up multiple times in the series. This is all characteristic of the high-quality contributors throughout. Illustrator Antonio Lopez features regularly, as does WWD illustrator Steven Stipelman. Although they regularly referenced the titans of design, newer names featured as well; John Kloss, Clovis Ruffin, Scott Barrie, and Stephen Burrows get mentions as well as Japanese designer and boutique owner Reiko Ehrman. This integration of high fashion, history, and practical guidance creates a narrative that not only is fashion multifaceted and integrated into many aspects of life, but that the reader is included in the process.
Marketing for the series changed depending on the publication it featured in. Ads in fashion-oriented titles like Cosmopolitan, Vogue, and Harper’s Bazaar focused on the beautiful ‘high fashion couturier style clothes’ and the ‘lavish illustrations’; while Better Homes and Gardens and Redbook extolled the potential for cost-cutting.
The Art of Sewing is an underappreciated treasure. It refuses to make assumptions about home sewers and puts a high value on the ‘art’ of home sewing as well as treating fashion as a culturally rich subject in a way that’s accessible, without losing content value.
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