Miss Noelle Walks in Technicolor

Good evening, kittens! Things have been a bit hectic around here, lately. While summers are supposed to be languorous and sunshine-filled, mine has been filled other things entirely. Namely, frantic bouts of writing on a deadline and lots of driving. We've been to Albuquerque, Houston, Austin, and Marfa, all in the span of a few weeks. I am le tired, y'all.

Before all that hubbub, however, I did get some sewing done. This lovely dress, which fairly screams Mary, was my Mood Sewing Network project for the month of June. I've had this lightweight floral cotton on my radar for months now. It's exactly the sort of fabric that gets my sewing engine going: bright, floral, and breathable. So, I finally gave in and ordered a few yards. Somehow, this cotton is actually prettier in person. Oranges, reds, yellows, and greens tumble across that hot pink background in the loveliest watercolor floral pattern. It's gorgeous! 

Naturally, I turned it into a sundress. Because, of course I did.

The pattern I used is, technically, Simplicity 1873. However, I had a different vision than 1873's simple two-dart bodice. Something a bit more interesting was called for, in this fabric. I changed the scoop neck to a deep, rounded vee. Then I extended the shoulder line out and up, to make a cut-on cap sleeve, which was finished with a bias band of fabric. To match the front bodice, I then drafted a rounded v-neck onto the back. It's a design similar to a RTW dress that's been in my closet for ages and is one of my favorites.

For the skirt portion, I nabbed the pattern pieces from Vogue 9100. It's a gathered skirt, with hip shaping, and gloriously deep pockets. It's the perfect pairing for the bodice and fabric. The gentle gathering doesn't add bulk, but it's super swishy in the summer heat. Lovely, right?

Technique wise, I pulled out some stops with this dress. It's fully lined in a polka dot, lemon-colored cotton batiste that's been in my stash for eons. The center back zipper is lapped, sewn in by hand, then whip-stitched to the lining. Our main dress fabric was also hemmed by hand, then the lining was triple top-stitched on my machine with a pretty wide hem to increase the swoosh factor. 

Yeah, that's a lot of snooty "by hand" talk in the paragraph above. Plenty of that could've been done by machine just as well, but I needed something to do with my hands, while watching Orphan Black! (Can we talk about the great Donny & Helena moments, this season? They were my absolute favorite scenes, of the whole series. Except, perhaps, for Allison's glue gun psychotic break in Season 1.) Either way, I really like the result. The dress feels special, when I'm wearing it. 

Even better, it dresses up or down beautifully. For summer weddings or date nights, a bright belt and nude heels elevate the look. During my usual day-to-day roamings, though, it looks great with strappy tan sandals and sunglasses.  It's a deceptive workhorse of a garment.

 

Oh, there is one last fun detail of this dress!  Did you check out my clothing label, earlier in the post? Sam surprised me, last month, with a whole heap of sew-in labels for my garments. They have a cute vintage machine on them and say, "A lovely garment by Idle Fancy." He's really the most wonderful of men.

It seems fitting that this dress, the most Mary dress I've made in quite some time, should be the first to get a real label. Since making this dress, I've worn it about once a week. The lining is so light that it's still comfortable and breezy, in the Texas heat. I need a bit more practice putting the labels in, but y'all gave me some fabulous tips on Instagram. Thanks again!

Unfortunately, this is the last sundress I'll be working on, for a little while. I have a writing conference coming up in New York, at the end of July. More business-appropriate clothes are on the docket, for the next few weeks! Happy sewing! 

 

Note: The fabric for the main body of this dress was provided to me, free of charge, by Mood Fabrics as part of the Mood Sewing Network. However, all opinions in this post are my own. 

Miss Gidget Demands a Tiki Drink: Simplicity 1873

Good evening, my dear finicky foxes! This weekend was an exciting one at Chez Danielson Perry. Not only did my younger sister graduate from high school, but Sam and I took her to her very first concert! Laine tossed her cap on Friday morning, then we all saw Brandi Carlile at Stubb's, Saturday night. In between, there were two cakes, lots of visiting family, and (finally!) plenty of sunshine basking. It was an idyllic weekend, to say the least. 

It was, also, a great weekend to wear my new sundress. Now that the sun has arrived in central Texas, all I want to wear are breezy cotton dresses. Unfortunately, my measurements have changed a bit in the last six months, so my go-to sundress bodice needed refitting. It was pulling slightly at the bust, but overly large in the waist and upper chest. I traced off a fresh version of Simplicity 1873, then set about refitting the pattern. I went one size smaller on the bodice overall, then performed a larger FBA, and lowered the neckline by an inch. Voila! The sundress returns.

As a test run of my altered pattern, I gave in to novelty fabric whims. Right now, JoAnn Fabrics has the most adorable line of tropical print cotton shirtings. This red-and-white hula girl print came home with me last month, demanding to become a sundress. Unfortunately, the colors bled, during its pre-sewing wash. The white flowers are no longer true white, but a very, very light pink. Not wanting to abandon the fabric entirely, I used it for this project, in case the bodice turned out horribly. 

Spoiler alert: It didn't. While there are some things I'm going to change, the first approximation of this bodice is quite a good fit. It's much more secure around my waist, while still having enough room for my, shall we say, ample bosom. Huzzah!

Instead of Simplicity 1873's original skirt, I subbed in the gathered A-line from Vogue 9100, which I converted to box pleats. Since this fabric is a true shirting, it felt entirely too stiff for the floaty, circular pleats of the original skirt. Plus, let's be honest. If a fabric bleeds in the wash, no way am I using it to make a labor-intensive skirt! All the pleating and circular hemming of 1873 is worth it on a deserving fabric, but this dress probably won't last past this summer. Four box pleats and I'm out, y'all.

Apart from deciding on pleat placement, the construction of this one was deadly simple. All the seams are serged in white thread, then the neckline and armscyes were finished with white bias tape. I put in a lapper zipper down the center back, hand-stitched the hem up, then called it a day! Dress construction doesn't get much easier, kittens.

As for further tweaks, there are just a few. The neckline needs another half-inch rotated out to the bust darts and the armscyes could use a little tweaking, of their own. I think I might also bring the shoulder in by a half-inch and further plunge the back neckline. For this version, I played at turning the back neckline into a vee, which I like, but it's pretty subtle. Next time, we're showing more skin!

All in all, though, this dress makes me happy. Tropical prints, especially in primary colors, make me long for umbrella drinks and sunshine. This summer, I'm planning on enjoying quite a lot of both! Soon enough, I'm sure the heat in Texas will start getting on my nerves, but it feels wonderful, after all that rain we've had. Even better, I have a fun, new dress to enjoy it in!

Finally, I wanted to extend a huge thank you to everyone who cheered me on in the last post, regarding the Avon writing contest. The support and book love y'all sent my way was deeply appreciated. It also must have rubbed off on the editors, because my alter ego actually won the second round! Yes, I am still flabbergasted and squeeing. Thank you all so much. It's been a bit of an exciting week, top to bottom. There are three more rounds left, so if you're interested in participating, you can still join in on the fun! If not, well, no worries. I'll be back with more sundress ravings, soon!

Note: This post's title is derived, of course, from the Gidget movies. They were my favorites growing up and I watched Gidget Goes Hawaiian, while sewing this dress' hem. Halfway through, I paused the movie and called my mother. Apparently, my looming thirtieth birthday is showing. Instead of nodding along with Gidget's romantic predicaments, I sympathized with her angelically patient parents and wished for her to meet a young Gloria Steinem. What kind of girl complains about a trip to Hawaii, just because her boyfriend won't be there? Drink an illicit piña colada and chill out, Gidg! Also, Jeff is going to be a womanizing ass in Rome, next year, so enjoy your break while you can. Ahem. Needless to say, that movie hasn't quite held up in my heart, like the original Gidget has. At least, in the original, Gidget has some gumption and interests outside of Moondoggy. 

/vintage movie rant

Miss Juliet Forgets You Not: Simplicity 1873

Good evening, Jedi sewing warriors! Tonight, Sam and I are celebrating this most momentous of days (May the 4th) by drinking wine, making horrible Star Wars jokes, and watching Return of the Jedi. Naturally, I thought it would also be the perfect night to blog about this sweet little floral dress. Nothing says "Let's kill some storm troopers!" like quilting cotton covered in forget-me-nots and baby's breath.

This dress was my contribution to the Dress Up Party, hosted by Sara of Sew Sweetness. Throughout the month of May, she'll be featuring guest bloggers in their favorite garment patterns and tons of giveaways. For my post, I decided to sew up another version of my own go-to dress pattern, Simplicity 1873. It's been over nine months since my last version and my sewing machine threatened to revolt, if it didn't revisit this bodice soon.

 

 

To be honest, this dress was also influenced by a terribly boring factor: the weather. Our forecast is nothing but mid-eighties and thunderstorms, as far as the eye can see. Summer advances oh-so-quickly, kittens. 

As you may know, my Texas summer wardrobe has a few rules. There must be natural fibers, minimal layers, and ease of movement. If any garment fails on one of these counts, it won't get worn. Fully lined dresses and pencil skirts molder at the back of my closet, unloved, until October. Or, let's be honest, November.

This dress follows my rules in a gloriously practical fashion. I used midweight quilting cotton that didn't need a lining, lowered the front and back necklines for less coverage, and finished the whole thing with light blue bias tape. It's swishy, breathable, and so ready for summer! Even if my ghostly pale skin isn't.

I've blogged about this pattern so many times that it seems redundant to chatter on, but let's take a quick look at its construction anyway. This dress has a two-dart bodice, scooped neckline, and a wide, pleated circle skirt. Honestly, the most painful part of sewing this dress is cutting out all those darn skirt panels! I've been so spoiled by simpler patterns, in recent months, that the refolding and cutting out of this one felt like pulling teeth. I can't believe I tackled this thing, without a rotary cutter, for my first iteration. How torturous!

Luckily, all that tedium is made up for by the construction process, itself. Call me a sewing nerd, but there's nothing I love more than large swaths of pleating. The marking, the folding, the pressing. It's all so cathartic! Putting a heavily pleated floral skirt together is my sewing catnip. 

Beyond the skirt, however, this dress is pretty basic. Eons ago, I performed a two-inch FBA (on the size 20) and a half-inch narrow shoulder adjustment, so it also fits like a dream. It's finished with an invisible zip at the center back, light blue serging along the seam allowances, and the aforementioned bias tape. I even cheated on this one and sewed a standard machine hem. The horror! The quick and satisfying horror!

In the end, I have one heck of a sundress. It's ridiculously feminine, yes, but still easy to throw on with a cardigan and sandals. Wearing it out, especially with my slightly shorter new hair, makes me feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland. It's just so, so sweet. For this time of year, that's one of my favorite qualities in a garment. Even better, wearing it seems to provoke kiss ambushes, from Sam. There are certainly worse consequences from a dress!

Why are you moving into my frame? You know I'm taking pictures, right?
Nevermind. Carry on, Professor!

Miss Melinda Fancies a BBQ: Simplicity 1873

Hello, my loves! Sam and I have made it back home, after our meandering road trip out to Georgia. We had an absolute blast visiting with family, eating delicious food, and unplugging from the world. I didn't realize how internet-dependent my morning routine was, until we were without connectivity for a week. The number of times I checked Instagram, only to belatedly realize my phone had no service, was truly embarrassing! Almost as embarrassing as the discovery that I'm allergic to pastoral charm. 

Apparently, living my whole life in a city means that one sniff of hay and one pat of a horse can set my whole system reeling. I spent much of Saturday in a Benadryl-induced coma, after said discovery. The sneezes, they just wouldn't stop! Thankfully, I was still able to finish my Mood project for this month: a striped summer party dress.

I ordered this fabric, an ecru and red cotton by Marc Jacobs, a few months ago from Mood. It was a total impulse purchase, bought for no other reason than I was struck dumb with love for these wide, scarlet stripes. They would make the perfect summer dress! Once the weather heats up, I start yearning for that classic Americana palette of red, white, and blue. (As similarly indicated by my last post.) It's a color scheme that hearkens back to summers spent on sailboats, eating apple pie and soaking up the blazing sun under a glamorous, floppy hat. 

I haven't actually experienced a summer like that, of course. If I tried eating pie on a sailboat, I'd probably slip on an errant baked apple and fall right overboard, floppy hat and all. The yearning for an elegant, traditionally "summer" outfit remains, however. Damn Ralph Lauren and all his aspirational, Ivy League designs! 

So, yeah, I wanted a striped dress. I wanted it desperately.

Luckily, this fabric ended up being perfect for such a project. It's a lovely crisp cotton, almost a poplin in weight and drape, which lent itself really well to the dress I had in mind. I wanted something classic in silhouette, but comfortably swishy and unlined. Though I fully understand all the benefits of lining a garment, I just can't do it for these mid-summer dresses. When the temperatures soar above 90 degrees, I want as few layers as possible! It may be dressmaking sacrilege, but such a sin rests east on my conscience. 

As for the dress itself, this pattern should look familiar to you. It's another iteration of Simplicity 1873, that queen among fit-and-flare patterns. I've made it a half-dozen times already and have absolutely zero plans to stop now. Tried-and-true for the win! 

For this version of 1873, I opted for the high, rounded neck bodice of View A. It's the same bodice I used in my final Project Sewn dress and I absolutely adore wearing that dress. Busty women are told so often that we can't pull off high necklines, but they don't bother me in the least. Society doesn't need to peek at my bubbies all the time and I'm tall enough that it doesn't throw off my torso proportions any, as is the worry implied in that advice. 

Note: Though, even if it did, I come down on the side of not giving a shite. Plus-sized fashion rules do nothing but harsh my sewing buzz. The word "flattering" makes my feminist nature go all wild-eyed and stabby. It intimates that women are nothing but a bucket of flaws to be hidden and camouflaged, so that we can achieve that vaunted status as pretty, decorative object. "Oh dear, this woman has a poochy stomach and extravagant breasts!  Best hide those with fabric magic or turn her toward the wall!" Such claptrap!

Back to the matter at hand, though. This dress! This lovely, stripey confection of a dress!

Instead of attempting to stripe match the bias-cut panels of 1873's usual skirt, I subbed it out for a pleated dirndl. Once again, I concentrated the pleats toward the side seams of the dress. This was both an attempt to give the skirt more swish and leave some of the stripes unbroken down the front of the dress. I spent so much time stripe matching, as I cut out this baby, that it seemed silly to break all the stripes up with pleating! So, I left the center four unbroken, then pleated like a madwoman. The resulting skirt has two box pleats on each front side and two box pleats on each back side, each folded along a stripe edge. 

The whole dress is finished with French seams and self-fabric bias tape. I absolutely adore an exposed bias-tape finish, especially with striped fabric, so that's what I went for at the neckline and armscyes. The resulting barber-pole diagonals are such a cute pop of interest, don't you think? Even if I had lined the dress, I would have been tempted to add that finish. I love it!

So, there we have it: a simple striped dress for those muggy, summer nights. It was the perfect outfit to wear for Uncle Bill's 60th birthday party! Cool, but resiliently crips against the heat. I am going to get so much wear out of this piece, as I do all my unlined cotton dresses. There is no better Texas summer staple, I promise you. Though, this one does have the added advantage of filling that sailboat attire gap in my wardrobe. 

The details...

Things I Loved:

• The fabric! These stripes just make me so darn happy. It's all too tempting to buy the balsam colorway, as well. 
• The silhouette! Simplicity 1873 is ever a winner for me.
• The bias tape finish! 

Things I Changed:

• 2 inch FBA on the bodice, done many, many moons ago. 
• Subbed out the skirt for a pleated dirndl.
• Omitted the lining, in favor of a simpler finish.
• French-seamed everything possible.
• Used a traditional zipper, instead of my nemesis, the invisible zip.

Fabric & Notions:

• 3 yards of Marc Jacobs striped cotton - courtesy of Mood Fabrics
• 22'' zipper

Project Sewn: A Trip to Sweetish Hill

Hallå! God morgan, friends! Can you believe we're already in the third week of Project Sewn? Time has flown by, no doubt thanks to my recent weekends of manic sewing. Though I had planned to sew ahead in the competition, I'm too prone to flights of sartorial fancy to turn that into a reality. My ideas, they are both dogged and tardy.

This week, we're sewing along with the "Going Global" challenge. The idea is to choose a country as inspiration for an outfit, drawing influence from its culture, food, architecture, or whatever else gets your gears turning.

Now, this is where my political little mind hesitated for a few weeks. My mother refers to me, lovingly, as a "bleeding heart, touchy-feely socialist," which is not an incorrect assessment. To my mind, this challenge could quite easily verge into the dangerous territory of cultural appropriation, rather than the intended cultural appreciation. I wanted to steer clear of such territory, for my own peace of mind. That left me with a few safer alternatives: use something specific to a country, but not its people, like English roses or the Eiffel Tower, or channel a culture I have direct ties to. As you may have realized by the overabundance of yellow and blue in this week's entry, I chose the latter option.

While my mother's line is made up of English planters who came to America pre-revolution, my dad's family was one of the many millions that came through Ellis Island in the 19th century. They left their small village, outside of Gothenburg, Sweden and eventually settled in Iowa. (Note: His mother's side has a very similar story, only originating from Germany and winding up in California, instead. We Americans are such a melting pot!) Like many other American families, we've kept vestiges of this heritage alive in our own traditions. Swedish flags decorate our Christmas tree ever year and meatballs make regular appearances at large family gatherings. What's more, if you're a wee Danielson girl, there is a picture over a mantle somewhere of you in a lavishly embroidered yellow-and-blue dress. My mother, somewhat thankfully, couldn't put her hands on mine for this post. It exists and it is cute/embarrassing, I promise you. (Here, members of the Swedish royal family wear similar versions to my own)

For this week's challenge, I decided to make a modern, womanly version of that exact outfit. My vision was a dress in the same timeless blue and yellow of the Swedish flag, with touches of embroidery and heirloom sewing, all paired with a simple, feminine silhouette. This would be my homage to all those hard-working, hand-sewing Swedish foremothers of mine. 

Using a midweight bright blue linen, I made a base dress from Simplicity 1873 and a classic dirndl skirt. The high neck and slightly puffed sleeves of 1873's Version A fit my vision to a tee--simple, but with a dash of the romantic. Though the skirt of 1873 is already a pleated, full affair, I wanted something a bit more traditional than Cynthia Rowley's asymmetrical mix of box and knife pleats. Instead, I cut a wide dirndl skirt, which I box pleated myself. On something of a whim, I decided to concentrate the pleats toward the sides of the dress, rather than evenly spaced, for a fuller effect. 

I've made this pattern a few times now, though this was my first time using the higher neckline and sleeves. Y'all, these sleeves are my everything. They are so pretty and brilliantly constructed! The fullness comes not from the sleeve cap, as expected, but instead from five darts along the sleeve hem that cinch everything in. The resulting sleeve has a nice fullness that makes one think princess, not linebacker. When you've inherited not only blonde hair, but wide viking shoulders, from your Swedish ancestors, this is a welcome difference. 

Meanwhile, the high neckline would not usually be my choice, but I wanted the detailed embroidery to act almost as a necklace would, pointing interest toward my face rather than my decolletage. Not only did that work out splendidly, but I love the mix of high neckline and puffed sleeves. The whole dress makes me feel a bit like a Disney extra, with talking birds and helpful vermin just one cheery song away.

Let's see. What else can I say about this dress? Oh right, I EMBROIDERED THE HECK OUT OF IT. You see that charming yellow and white motif around the neckline? I did that myself and it took forever. We went to visit Sam's lovely parents last week and I did not stop embroidering. I embroidered in the car. I embroidered on the couch. I embroidered, to disastrous effect, while fetching with Seamus. The pattern is a variation on Sublime Stitching's Double Dutch, which I tinkered with to get the desired Scandinavian flair. 

After embroidering for days upon days, of course, my mother informed me that the embroidery on my own wee Swedish dress was actually just ribbon. That would have saved time, but I like this oh so much better! Hand sewing is soothing in the kind of way I'd always hoped knitting would be. Don't be surprised if I embroider 1000 things now. 

Technique wise, this was laborious but relatively pain-free. The design was made using a mix of stem stitches, split stitches, and french knots, which are the basic tools of the embroidery trade. To prevent buckling of the fabric, I interfaced the neckline before placing the bodice on a hoop. If you're also keen to do this yourself, check out the tutorials from Austin's own Sublime Stitching. Not only do they have awesome modern patterns, but Jenny's tutorials are super helpful if you're a beginner or need a quick refresher! 

Once the embroidery was finished, I turned my attention to the hemline. Usually, a traditional Swedish folk dress is accompanied by a coordinated apron skirt. Since such an addition would be a bit too much for everyday wear, I forewent it in favor of rick-rack. These three lines of yellow and white rick-rack maintained my goal of heirloom sewing, but kept it from being too literal an interpretation. It's such a cute detail, don't you think? We need a rick-rack comeback, sewing friends! 

Anywho! The dress is lined in more blue linen and finished off with a lapped zipper in the center back. The hem was turned with navy blue lace and could use a less timid pressing, if these pictures are any indication. I was terrified the polyester lace would melt, as can all too easily happen. That would have been a nightmare!

I adore this dress, y'all! I'm not sure there's a more Mary piece in my wardrobe. The only problem, of course, is that it's too cute to cover up with a sweater or jacket! So, if I wanted a second piece for this week's Project Sewn, I needed to get creative. 

Enter the ever-beloved bow clutch. Not only are they fabulous, but so easily DIYed. I needed my own version! I bought a length of mustard yellow leather-like fabric from JoAnn's and made it so. Though it looks a bit complicated, the project is just a matter of sewing rectangles in the correct order. I added an outside bow to a basic rectangular clutch, which sits free across the body, so that a cute hand hold is created. To keep up the theme for this week, I finished it off with a bright blue zipper for a bit of contrast. 

On Thursday, I'll actually be back with a quick tutorial for this project. Once everything is measured and cut, it's an amazingly quick bag project. Friends of mine may get entirely too many for birthdays this year! Personally, I now need them in a dozen more colors...

So, there you have it! What do you think of my updated Swedish folk dress, kittens? My poor grandmother had to put up with an emergency embroidery phone call, but I think it was worth it. All that hand-sewing was such a calming, centered sort of creativity. I highly recommend giving it a try, if you've yet to try real thread-work. 

 If you're of a mind, make your way over to Project Sewn to check out the other fabulous projects and vote, vote, vote! Incidentally, the title for this project is taken from one of my favorite places in Austin, Sweetish Hill Bakery, which not only sits at the base of Swedish Hill, but baked our wedding cakes. They also make the best Swedish-style cinnamon rolls in Texas!

Miss Violet Finds Her Moorings: Simplicity 1873

Hello, darling meerkats! Have you had a wonderful week so far? Mine has been rather hectic--lots of work and school to attend to--but has also been filled with sewing adventures. There was an ill-fated second knit dress (Note: if you're using a woven pattern with a jersey, only going down one size probably won't cut it!), some fitting adjustments on older makes, and oh yeah...a new camera! Apparently, 2014 is going to be Mary's Year of Modern Technology. First a serger, now a DSLR. I'll keep you posted, if we get a Jetsons-style hair robot. 

For this blog, I've always shot with a point-and-shoot, despite knowing full well that I needed a DSLR. It just seemed a pretty big purchase to make, when so many beautiful fabrics yearned to be bought, you know? However, thanks to some Mysterious Sewing News I Can't Mention Yet, Sam and I decided it was time for an upgrade. Enter the Canon Rebel T3i and my new obsession! 

After three straight nights of playing with the manual settings (Read: Photographing our dog in various "Why aren't you playing fetch with me, human?" poses.), I decided to document a real project. The knit dress was planned, but it's now wadded into a ball somewhere in a deep dark cave of sewing death, so that was out. Enter Simplicity 1873! This lovely little fit-and-flare dress is made up in an anchor print cotton, from Dear Stella, and piped in white around the neckline and armscyes. 

I have long lusted after the retro sailor dresses of Stop Staring and Pin Up Girl Clothing, but couldn't conscience buying one, when they're so easy to make. When I stumbled across this Dear Stella anchor print, it was a simple leap to pairing it with Simplicity 1873 for a cute nautical dress.This pattern is, as we've talked about recently, one of my favorites. With its simple bodice and full pleated skirt, 1873 is my platonic dress silhouette. It's the perfect blend of comfortable and waist-emphasizing! 

As far as construction, this was a super straight-forward dress. I'd already made 1873 five times before, so all the fitting kinks were worked out. For this version, I omitted the zipper out of pure laziness, and lined the bodice in pink-striped cotton shirting. I used store bought white piping, which I inserted around the neckline and armscyes, as mentioned. 

Incidentally, piping is my sewing true love. I would happily pipe All The Things, if I could. Perhaps that is my resolution for 2014: Pipe everything possible! It adds just the right amount of emphasis to a neckline. I've also found that, if a fabric is in danger of washing you out, a bit of coordinated piping can mitigate the effect. These anchors weren't doing that, as navy is universally flattering, but it is utterly adorable. 

So...another 1873! In a seasonally-inappropriate fabric choice! I don't normally love working with a "quilting weight" cotton, but I've found Dear Stella's fabrics to be high-quality and durable. Plus, how many times do you come across apparel-weight nautical prints? Sometimes, rules must be thrown out, in order to achieve sartorial bliss. 

The details...

Things I Loved:

• The fabric! Anchors are the best, all the taste-makers agree. 
• The piping! Of course. 

Things I Changed:

• Omitted the zipper, due to extreme laziness.
  

Things I Would Change, If I Made It Again:

• Nothing! Mostly because I've made this pattern so many times that the kinks are worked out. 

Notions & Fabric:

• 3.5 yards of Dear Stella fabric
• 1 yard of striped shirting
• White Piping

Construction Time:

• Four hours. So much pleating!

I'm now going to fiddle with my new toy some more. Do you have any good DSLR tricks or favorite photography sites, friends? I have a pretty good handle on the basic manual functions, but would love some advice from any camera nerds out there. 

Miss Juliet Dons a Rose: SImplicity 1873

Good afternoon, noble sewists! Today has been - surprise! - a whirlwind of wedding related shenanigans. I have painted dozens of wooden snowflakes, contacted every vendor, formatted all of our signage, and spent thirty minutes trying to get metallic spraypaint out of my nail beds. For a moment, it looked as though I'd developed some rare Midas form of lepresy.

Quite frankly, I can't imagine what The Week Before (cue thunder, lightning) would be like for someone who really cared about every detail. We're having a relaxed brunchy affair and I'm still up to my eyeballs in projects. My to-do list just won't die!

Ergo, it should come as no surprise that I haven't been sewing. There are two giant wedding projects that will require my sewing machine later this week, but other than prepping for those, my sewing room has seen little action. The good news is that this allows me to show off one of my most beloved unposted projects!

This, my dear ones, is Simplicity 1873. In the summer of 2012, I made four of these babies, and wore them nonstop. A simple bodice attached to a pieced, pleated circle skirt, this Cynthia Rowley pattern is one of my all time favorites. For my first one, reviewed last year in this post, I followed the instructions to a tee, but these latter versions are pretty bare bones. I wanted easy cotton dresses that I could wash, wear, and survive the brutal Austin summers in.

Despite using some gorgeous modern prints for my others, this muted rose version is my reigning favorite. My mother graciously allowed me to pick through her stash a few years ago and this is one of the fabrics unearthed in that adventure. It's a very drapey rose-print quilting cotton from the late 1980s. It looks like bad curtains.

I love it. Hard.

Blame it on a childhood spent decked out in Laura Ashley dresses, but I have gooey, sappy feelings for chintzy florals. They make me want to curl my hair and frolic through meadows. This one, with its shades of dusty rose and sage against a black background, is no different.

As for construction, it's been awhile, but I'll try to dredge up some details. Instead of the prescribed full lining, I finished this dress with black bias tape turned to the inside. If one is to survive the kind of heat we see here, layers must be dispensed with. Plus, bias tape is quick to install. I wanted these done quickly!

For sizing, I completely cheated on ALL of the 1873s. While I should have done a real full bust adjustment, I instead graded from one size at the shoulders, up at the bust, down at the waist, then back up again. That's why it's just a smidge too big in certain places, like my under bust. Ah, well. For an quick cotton dress, who really cares?

While my other 1873s are limited to mostly summer outfits, this rose print lovely layers up perfectly in the colder months. Today, I wore her with my trusty emerald cardigan, but she also looks snazzy with tights, boots, and a dark rose cardigan on top.

So...there we have it! A frock Laura Ashley would call her own. Now, I'm off to sew endless amounts of wedding bunting for this weekend. Six days!