This is part 2 of a series about the history of clothing rationing during World War 2 Britain. If you missed last week’s edition, you can click here to read it.
When the British Board of Trade (BOT) declared the start of clothes rationing on June 1, 1941, it undeniably changed the face of fashion in the country. However, the advent of rationing was far from the only measure taken, and as the war continued the British people on the Home Front had to contend with several other schemes that further challenged how they thought about fashion.
Make Do and Mend
If clothes rationing was meant to reduce the waste of labor and raw materials needed to buy clothing and distribute clothing more fairly among the population, the Make Do and Mend scheme was supposed to encourage people to take steps to make their clothing last.
Courtesy of the National Archives
Launched in 1942 as part of a joint effort between the government and groups like the Women’s Institute, Make- Do and Mend encouraged women to mend clothing rather than buying new and care for their family’s garments to make them last. Women were also encouraged to alter their clothing, rip out old jumpers to knit new ones, and repair whatever they could. Only when garments were threadbare and unusable should they be thrown away.
This scheme was supported by a poster campaign from the Ministry of Information, as well as news reels, educational pamphlets, and classes.
CC41 and Utility Clothing
One of the most influential schemes when it came to British fashion was the Civilian Clothing Order (CC41) or the Utility scheme. This program, which extended well beyond to clothing to shoes, furniture, and other fabrics and textiles, was meant to standardize both the products that consumers could buy and also what those products were made from.
Utility clothing, shoes, and furniture were easy to spot because of the CC41 stamp marking them. This was known as the Utility mark or sometimes the “cheeses.” Clothing with the CC41 mark is now highly collectable by vintage enthusiasts.
Under the Utility scheme, the government dictated what kinds of cloth could be produced in order to make the textile and garment industries more efficient. It also standardized how much cloth was produced and its quality, with Utility versions of cottons, wools, and leathers were all produced during this time.
The garment industry was also instructed as to the types of clothing that could be made at this time, setting out restrictions that were meant to save on valuable inches and yards of cloth. The Utility Clothing Scheme restricted the design of women’s garments by dictating that skirts and dresses had to be made with no more than four knife pleats of two box or inverted pleats and only five buttons. Men could no longer buy trousers with turned up cuffs, and the length of their socks was limited to nine inches which caused such uproar that the issue was brought to the floor of the House of Commons.
It wasn’t just large-scale manufactures that had to learn how to navigate the BOT’s restricted. Dressmakers were forced to adapt, and the CC41 scheme becomes a major plot point in my book The Dressmakers of London!
This video goes into more depth about Utility clothing.
One thing that I think bears mentioning is that despite the restrictions that the Utility Clothing Scheme introduced when it came to fashion, the war was not a dull, drab, and grey time in fashion. Pattern and color were hallmarks of Utility clothes, and one of the things I enjoy about the above video is the emphasis on the fact that one Utility-designed dress could be produced in a number of different fabrics in order to bring a sense of variety to the public’s wardrobe.
Another highlight was the fact that some of Britain’s leading fashion designers including Norman Hartnel1, Edward Molyneau, and Digby Morton under the umbrella of a group called the Incorporated Society of London Fashion Designers designed Utility clothing. This meant that the average woman might be able to purchase a dress, skirt, or blouse from a designer who never would have been within her reach before the war. Drawing in some of Britain’s top designers to the scheme was meant to boost morale, injecting a touch of glamor and sophistication into rationed clothing.
My book The Dressmakers of London, a novel about two estranged sisters who are forced back together when they unexpectedly inherit their mother’s London dress shop during World War 2, is now available in print, ebook, and audiobook. Further information is available on my website.
Designer of the future Queen Elizabeth II’s wedding dress.
As a dressmaker for many years and 1940s fashion enthusiast, I am really enjoying your book! Your newsletters with background information are particularly interesting but I was wondering if you have ever come across photos of actual dressmaker shops during the time period. The factory photos are fascinating but I would really like to see a photo of a small dress shop workroom - I have searched but to no avail.
Seeing these dresses did make it easier to understand what your book says about the pleats that were allowed.