Fashion Square Dress

Sometime last year I went with my mother to Scottsdale's Fashion Square Mall; we were supposed to meet my grandmother at one of the restaurants, so I picked up a map to figure out where it was. The front of the brochure had a picture of a gorgeous dress, but sadly no information about the photograph, photographer or (needless to say) the dress. Here it is:


Pretty, right? Simple lines, a rather unique fabric design, and lovely colors.* What I really like about this dress is how unusual it is--the bandeau style bust, the almost star shaped bodice, and of course, the lovely scalloping of the skirt along the waist. Looks very elegant and yet also fairly comfortable (at least for a strapless dress). Anyway, since I don't have any of the info about the designer and probably couldn't afford the dress if I did, I'm going to make one.

Foreseeable problems:

- Umm, what's going on in the back? Wish I knew!
- Side zipper? Back zipper? Maybe the back has huge buttons? Probably not a lace-up!
- What kind of fabric? Ideally, I'd love a cotton with just a tinge of stretch. That's probably not going to happen, though. A batik might be interesting.
- This dress looks suspiciously like it has boning. Bummer. Never used it, probably won't for this one, either. It might have a built in bra (or bra pads), but I rather doubt it.
- Boy I wish it had straps. I could add some in, but a.) what style? and b.) do I really want to? Seems like it would ruin the lovely lines.
- How many skirt pieces? I'm betting five. I'm hoping five. Five skirt panels would mean a back zipper (=easier), but six would mean a side zipper (=much more complicated, but nicer). On the other hand, a side zipper means it would be easier to fit. Hmmm.
- How many bodice pieces? My guess: 1 central front piece; 2 front side pieces; 2 back side pieces; 1 central back piece. This would work with five skirt panels. If this is true, it means a side zipper.
- A little low cut for my taste. I'll probably have to fix that or wear an outrageously huge necklace so that no one notices.

*More coral than orange in the original photo.

Baby gifts: because they can't complain about your color scheme.

Finally, finally, someone I know is having a baby, which means I can make baby gifts! Wheee!* My very fun friend Pat and his lovely wife Sarah are expecting their first child sometime in June. I immediately pulled out my copy of Last Minute Patchwork and Quilted Gifts, by Joelle Hoverson, and made every baby item she had. Overwhelming, I know, but I just couldn't resist. So, the new little tyke will be enjoying a cheerful blanket, some happy changing cloths (or maybe spit rags?), and (my favorite) a huggable little elephant. I even sewed the ears on extra tight so they could withstand that deadly combination of slobber and chewing.


* Hurry up, college friends! High school friends are beating you 1-0!

I love the fabrics--happy little trees and polka dots! All part of my devious plot to turn their child into an environmentalist who enjoys wearing bright orange.


Peanut, the littlest elephant.


The finished blanket and changing clothes. All matchy-matchy!

Tessa and her elephant (a practice model for the real thing).

Tessa's elephant was made out of denim and upholstery fabric, to withstand her combined slobber and chewing, but sadly the little guy only lasted for about five minutes before he began to leak stuffing.

Is it spring jacket time yet?

'Cause I've got mine! Vogue 8480, a few yards of sandwashed twill, and upholstery thread (ha!) makes quite a nice little jacket. I particularly like the bell sleeves. I'm not terribly enamored of the pockets (not very deep, which means they won't hold my keys or mp3 player securely) and I wish the pattern included a lining. I especially wish this because it would be fun to line this little coat with quilter's flannel--something cute that would provide a bit of extra warmth. All things considered, though, I'm really tempted to make this pattern again . . . in lime green or violet.

Displayed on my new dress model!

A detail of one of the buttons--fake vintage, but cute!

Probably in mauve.

Anthropologie has the kind of dresses that I absolutely love, but that I'm really not willing to pay for. Not because they aren't worth it, but simply because I hardly ever have occasion to wear a dress and when I do, I'd rather make one. But it is hard to pass up on some of their lovely clothing, such as the Autumn-to-Winter dress from last fall.

Then, today, I ran across a pattern on eBay, Vogue 7345, that I think could be altered to make a similar dress--a "A Few Leaves Die-to-Slightly Chilly Weather" dress, perhaps. Obviously, the neck would need to be altered, the sleeves changed to cap sleeves, and something done about that big streak up the middle. Still, it has potential. The basic pieces are there (including the gathering under the bust and along the waist) and this version even has pockets!

So, corduroy, like the Anthropologie version? I'm almost tempted to try it in cotton first, since here in CA we are already rapidly exiting "winter" and shifting back towards our natural state of gorgeous.

Bodkin

Probably the very first thing I ever made on a sewing machine was a scunchi.* My sister at the time played high school tennis, but cheap, cute shorts with large pockets were hard to come by, so she made a bunch of shorts. This was back in the late 80s, so of course she made matching scunchis to go with her shorts. The cutest pair of shorts, in my opinion, was made using fabric that had tennis games on it--one row had the crowd looking to the left, the next row had the crowd looking to the right, etc. In fact, I liked those shorts so much that I wore them about six years later when I played tennis in high school. Tells you something about my fashion palate.

Anyway, to make these scunchis, my mom had a bodkin. A bodkin is basically a pair of tiny tongs, with a metal ring around it. You could grasp something (say a piece of elastic) with the tongs, slip the metal ring up until it held the tongs closed and then easily string the elastic through whatever fabric casing you had haphazardly put together. Without this little tool, making scunchis involved quite a bit of swearing.**

When I finally got my own sewing machine practically the first thing I wanted to buy, even before getting a good pair of scissors, was a bodkin. I'm not even sure why I wanted one so badly; perhaps I had plans for some kind of scunchi plot, in which I used up all my fabric scraps and then inflicted hideous hair-ties upon unsuspecting young tennis players. Anyhow, my mom didn't know what the little thing was called and several trips to Jo-Ann's turned up nothing. I was shocked. Shocked! How did sewists get by, on a daily basis, without such a delightful little thing? Various other "turning" tools simply masqueraded as being useful, in my opinion (especially that purple plastic thing you can get at Jo-Ann's). Luckily, I was saved from a lifetime of frustration when turning tubes or threading elastic through casings, since my Gram had an extra bodkin in her sewing cabinet that she'd evidently forgotten about. Probably she had moved beyond her scunchi-making phase.

Then, in December, my mother and I treked to Jo-Ann's and in the Notions section we found a whole stack of bodkins! Ecstasies! And imagine our surprise when the Jo-Ann employee informed us that we probably hadn't seen them there before simply because they were out of stock. My mother, fearing such a calamity might occur again sometime in the next few decades, promptly bought every one they had left. I got two--you never know.

*Or are they spelled "scrunchi"? Actually, I think there's an umlaut in there somewhere.
**Mostly "shooty" and "darn it." Or perhaps "shooty" with an umlaut, in honor of the scunchis.

Bodkin-- sounds like a good Hobbit name.