Why is it that we have to stop playing dress-up once we reach a certain age? Sometimes it’s good to have a special dress that makes you feel like the prettiest girl in the room, the one all eyes are on — like a princess, really.
Party Princess
Hot chocolate
I’ve been doing so many long and involved projects for other people recently, that I’ve realised that I haven’t done anything for myself in a while. My sewing schedule is pretty much booked solid through to Christmas now, so I wouldn’t be able to make anything for me until at least January! So this Sunday, when I finished my housemate’s Gez’s party dress early (more on this later this week, I promise!), and got to a good stopping spot on my boyfriend’s pirate jacket, I suddenly found myself with a free evening. Starting at 5pm with an unopened pattern, I had the following shirt finished by 9pm (in amongst making dinner, too!).
Oh Baby!
I took a little sideline from my current two big projects (a massive velvet pirate coat for James and a lemon yellow tulle dress for a friend’s 30th birthday) to sew up some new arrivals for a friend’s, err, new arrival.
Vintage fair finds
On Sunday I dragged my boyfriend out of the house at a very early hour in order to get to Anita’s Vintage Fashion Fair before all the good stuff was gone. There were loads of vintage dresses ranging in price from £10-60, mountains of antique jewellery that refused to fit on my very unladylike fingers, and likewise, a beautiful bunch of classic hats that were far too small for my head.
But I’m not one to be disappointed easily, and I was thrilled to see so much vintage haberdashery on show, and at very good prices. I picked up a gorgeous Art Deco style (“style”, because I have no idea when it was actually made) belt buckle for £2, a card of five very mod-looking buttons for £3, and from the only stall selling any dress patterns, a late 50s Butterick dress pattern, 9734, for £4.
Velvet goldmine!
One of the nice things about buying tons of lush, black velvet for your boyfriend’s pirate coat is that you get to have your way with the leftover fabric! And if you’re a bit cheeky and insist that you’re going to be left out in the cold very soon because none of your other jackets fit anymore, then sometimes, sometimes, you can get away with making use of the scraps before the intended recipient of the fabric.
I made Jacket 101B from the 08/2006 issue of Burda World of Fashion magazine, which, if you’re not familiar, contains about 50 patterns in each magazine, ranging from incredibly fashion-forward to designs to some real “who in god’s name would wear THAT?” shockers. But overall, there’s at least a few things you’d make in each issue if you had enough time. August’s was a particularly good issue, but seeing as how my need for a jacket was the greatest, I tackled this first.
Pink rocker skulls
I’m rather proud of my recycling skills on the grey halter top I made this afternoon – the grey jersey fabric came from a pair of oversized lounge trousers I picked up at a Naked Ladies Party (it’s not what it sounds like – it’s a party to get rid of all your old clothes and pick up new ones off other ladies!), the pattern was a gift from benevolent craftster RiAnge who was cleaning out her pattern stash, and the fantastic plastic skull charms were a gift from my friend Caramel who picked them up at a craft sale in NYC last time she was over. So in total, I spent absolutely nothing and I’ve got this fab top to wear for the rest of the summer!
Jeepers creepers!
I’ve finally finished the 1930s Day Dress and debuted it at The Big Chill music festival last weekend. My boyfriend is rather fond of crisp linen suits and his beloved authentic Panama hat, so I thought we’d strike the perfect couple pose strolling around the Malvern Hills…
There's no Depression here…
I’m terribly excited to finally have begun work on Folkwear’s 1930s Day Dress! I bought the pattern and both the vintage-print crepe de chine and the contrasting teal crepe de chine (which you may recognise from the kimono top a few months ago, but I set myself a goal that I wouldn’t make the dress until my measurements matched that of my dressmaker’s dummy, unpadded (yes, I realise it’s adjustable, but bear with me here). I’m happy to say that I’ve lost the 4 inchess off my waist that held the biggest discrepancy between myself and Susan (said dummy), and I’m headlong into a new project, thankfully with enough summer left for a vain hope to still wear it before the first frost!
Not your average von Trapp dress
As you may have already read, I started work on a sheath dress made from a 1960s dress pattern. I am happy to report that the dress is now finished, though the end result bears little resemblance to the pattern sketch. Mostly because the pattern sketch does not show a sack of potatoes. Once again I fell into the trap of being entranced by the lovely, stylish drawings on the fronts of vintage patterns, choosing to ignore the little voice in my head that knows you can only trust a photograph on these kinds of things.
I normally hate IKEA, but…
…it was just before closing time and there was some cute fabric I wanted to grab (and the boy wanted some pear cider from the Swedish shop) so I allowed myself to be dragged into the 9th circle of hell, just this once. Across the warehouse-wasteland expanse of the store, a bold red print called out to me. But on further inspection, the print belonged to just some pillowcases. How disappointing!
Or, what if I could somehow turn those pillowcases into something wonderful? It took an evening, but out of two pillowcases and a bit of bias binding, this skirt emerged (and because the pillowcases each had a zipper, I’ve got an extra now!):
