The Blue Gardenia
Channeling Catherine: Classically glamorous, unassailably chic. May 25, 2011 01:59
Fabulous hair: Genetics.
Gold baubles: Au courant.
MAC Costa Chic lipstick: Dazzling.
McCall's 7007, copyright 1963, available at The Blue Gardenia: Quickie.
Snuggle up on the sofa and channel Irene Dunne. Delay not. May 21, 2011 15:04 2 Comments
Do you ever have those days — those days where you are in a mood, and not a particularly good one — where you just want to snuggle up on the sofa with a good book and your little canine pals? Well. I do. And today is one of those days. If I had made my fantasy wardrobe, this is what I would be wearing today. This, Pictorial Review 7468, circa late 1920s. It glamorous — ever-so-slightly — yet comfortable. I could pretend I'm Irene Dunne. Perhaps eat some organic chocolates and read The Long Embrace: Raymond Chandler and the Woman He Loved. (I'm reading that, anyway, though I'm clad in yoga pants and a shirred knit top, circa 2006. Hardly befitting a Chandler heroine or vixen.)
In case you actually make your wardrobe dreams come true, instead of wishing and hoping and thinking and dreaming, then this fabulous pattern can be all yours. All. Absolutely. The details: Pictorial 7468 Pajamas Bust 36 Complete Circa 1920s $100. Very popular size. Very gorgeous pattern. Truly.
Just click over to The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (And, yes, we do ship abroad, for a fee. Global Priority or Express. Your choice, my sweets. Yours alone.)
The book closet: This Chandler vixen's worth a stare on page . . . May 19, 2011 18:08 2 Comments
Or on screen, where she's played by Lauren Bacall, and her name is Vivian Sternwood Rutledge, rather than Vivian Sternwood Regan.
Raymond Chandler, as you recall, dearest readers, is my favorite writer. He knew how to tell a story. He knew how to turn a phrase. And his descriptions? Well. Second to none.
He describes Vivian of The Big Sleep as worth a stare. And here is his picture of Vivian when she visits Philip Marlowe's office:
She wore brownish speckled tweeds, a mannish shirt and tie, hand-carved walking shoes. Her stockings were just as sheer as the day before, but she wasn't showing as much of her legs. Her black hair was glossy under a brown Robin Hood hat that might have cost fifty dollars and looked as if you could have made it with one hand out of a desk blotter.
Oh, I can't stop there. I can't. Let me share more of this passage. OK? Please?
"Well, you do get up," wrinkling her nose at the faded red settee, the two odd semi-easy chairs, the net curtains that needed laundering and the boy's size library table with the venerable magazines on it to give the place a professional touch. "I was beginning to think you worked in bed, like Marcel Proust."
"Who's he?" I put a cigarette in my mouth and stared at her. She looked a little pale and strained, but she looked like a girl who could function under a strain.
"A French writer, a connoisseur in degenerates. You wouldn't know him."
"Tut, tut," I said. "Come into my boudoir."
You can see, the movie heroine doesn't exactly look like Bacall. She's no blonde. (Not that there is anything wrong with being a blonde. I, after all, sport that particular shade.) And her wardrobe is different as well. If you want to duplicate either look, may I recommend Vogue 6047, from the 1940s. (The book was published in 1939; the movie released in 1946.) And for the blouse, McCall 7238 would work ever-so-nicely. For the hat, you might choose Simplicity 1076. The beret, of course.
I love this look. I do. I do. I do. Absolutely. And may I suggest this mannish linen-wool check fabric from Michael's for the suit? It's perfect. Truly.
And, of course, this smashing ensemble of vintage patterns can be yours. Just click over to The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (And we happily ship abroad for a fee, generally even less than the USPO charges us. Are we special? Well, yes. Yes, we are.)
Uncage your inner Rosie the Riveter, Doris Day, baby chick, etc. April 25, 2011 17:25 4 Comments
It's that time again, dear readers, time to sit down and treat yourself to a few something-somethings from The Blue Gardenia. More than 70 luscious pattern additions, from the cutest little girl's apron to a Rosie the Riveter jumpsuit. May I add add a few pics to tantalize you, to lure you into opening your wallet? Of course, I may. So here goes:
Advance 2795: If you read Erica B.'s DIY Style, then you know she's already whipped up three jumpsuits this year. This Advance from the 1940s adds that Rosie touch. It's a Bust 38, and it's $45. And you know how hard these 1940s jumpsuit patterns are to come by.
McCall's 4461: Channel Doris Day in this smart ensemble. A skirt. And an overblouse. Perfect for a business lunch. Or a lunch of the more personal sort. Bust 34. $33.
Vogue Couturier Design 1488: It's sleek. It's chic. It's oh-so irresistible. It's a Bust 38. It's $75. And it's a design from Simonetta.
McCall's 2199: Adorable. Totally. Can you resist little baby chicks? Can you? Say no. This one's a Breast 30, and it's $25.
You'll also find additions in the 1920s, 1930s, children and men sections. Don't tarry. You don't want to miss these smashing styles. You don't.
The fine print: New patterns go at the beginning of each category. We take Amex, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa. And, yep, we do ship abroad. With pleasure.
Dance him to the edge of love. (Or is it lust?) March 27, 2011 12:35
You danced. With him. Till 3 a.m. The rumba. The foxtrot. The tango. The cha cha. The bolero. The ballroom two-step. The waltz. He knew them all. And he excelled at each. It was amazing. Every hour. Every minute. Every second. He was amazing. So very. Every move. Every gesture. Every word. He was handsome. He was sexy. You were beautiful. You, in your Vogue Special Design S-4942, circa 1949. In lilac silk chiffon lined with lilac silk crepe. You made it yourself, you meticulous seamstress you.
The evening was intense. So very. Your emotions gripped you, pushed you to dance at the very perimeter of wild. Your attitude overflowed. And yet. And yet, you don't want to see him again. Even though he was smart. Witty. Dashing. He could own you. Usurp you. Envelop you. Consume you. That is not what you want. It isn't. You want to be in control. You do.
Make this pattern yours. It's available at The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (We do ship abroad, happily. At cost. No handling charges. At all. Ever.) And we take American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa. Let those fingers waltz over. Now. That's an order. It is. Albeit a gentle one.
All eyes will be on you when you don this frock. March 23, 2011 10:58 1 Comment
She's decided she'll do it. Take the plunge. Say yes. Sashay down the aisle. At last. But she will not wear a floor length dress. She will not. She's too practical. Much, too. She wants something she can wear again and again. Oh, she'll spend money. On style. On quality. She'll use fine fabric, perhaps silk satin. Perhaps in platinum or ice blue. She'll buy a fabulous vintage pattern, American Designer's 1266, circa 1950s. It's a not a bridal pattern. It's not. It's a regal yet sexy cocktail dress designed by Sylvan Rich. And is it ever gorgeous? A resounding yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. She loves it. Yes indeedy.
And, yes, this lovely pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (We happily ship abroad, but there is a postal fee.)
The book closet: A huckster blonde in a green knit suit. February 23, 2011 10:09 3 Comments
A former co-worker (read Michael Dickson's excellent ex-pat blog, The Zapata Tales) recently raved about John D. MacDonald. Naturally, I was skeptical. So very. But because I am so open-minded (keep those snarky comments to yourself, please) I checked a few of his books out at the library. While my heart still belongs to Raymond Chandler, I find that I like John D. In fact, I think I'll toy with him for a bit. Cheat on Chandler for a brief affair. I especially love MacDonald's descriptions.
Of course, I dress the characters when I read. I do. Surprised, dear readers? Of course you aren't.
I see Alma/Almah, a companion to a shady millionaire, a woman whose intentions are perhaps less than honorable, in Butterick 3621, circa 1960s, View A. This passage is from A Deadly Shade of Gold, published in 1965:
She was walking slowly, barefoot, fastening the side of a green knit skirt, her head angled down so that a heavy sheaf of shining blonde hair obscured her face. She wore a white bra covering small breasts. Her upper torso was golden tan, with the narrrow and supple look of youth. She fixed the skirt as she reached the foot of the chaise. She threw her hair back with a toss of her head, and stood and looked at the man with a cool, unpleasant expression. It was a very lovely face. I could guess that her earliest memories were of being told how pretty she was. It was a cool and sensuous face. The springing blonde hair, with a few tousled strands across her forehead, fell in a glossy heaviness in two wings which framed the sensitive and bad tempered face. I had seen her before, and I groped for the memory, and finally had it. She had stared very earnestly at me many times, looked deeply into my eyes, held up a little squeeze bottle and told me it would keep me dainty all day long. Despite all rumors to the contrary, these huckster blondes are not interchangeable. I knew this one because her eyes were set strangely, one more tilted than the other.
She said something to the man. The curl of her mouth looked unpleasant. He lowered the book, said something, lifted it again. She shrugged and turned away, and walked out of my field of vision . . . When she appeared again she was fastening the top half of the green knit two piece suit and she wore shoes. She had that contrived walk of the model . . . the business of putting each foot down in direct line with the previous step, toeing outward slightly, to impart a graceful sway to the body from the waist down. She was not tall. Perhaps five-four. She made herself look tall.
She stopped on the right side of the chaise and perched one hip on it, facing the man. She spoke to him. I could hear the very faint cadence of her voice. She was intent, persuasive, half-smiling. It was like a commercial with the volume turned down. As she talked, he put two cigarettes between his lips, lit them, handed one to her. She stopped talking and looked expectantly at him. He reached and caught her wrist. She sprang up and wrenched her wrist away, her face ugly with sudden fury. She called him a ten letter word, loud enough for me to hear it through the doors. She was no lady. She strode out of range in the opposite direction, and I heard a door slam.
She left with the look of somebody who was not coming back immediately. There was no profit in watching a hairy man read a book.
Love it, love it, love it. The passage. The pattern. The book. The writing. Absolutely.
And, yes, this pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia. But you knew that. You did. The details: It's complete. Uncut. $22. Rush over. Buy it. Have a John D. MacDonald moment. Or two. Or three. To quote Carl Hiaasen: He was the first modern writer to nail Florida dead-center, to capture all its languid sleaze, racy sense of promise, and breath-grabbing beauty.
So. There ya go. Buy the pattern. Buy the book.
Tonight, a little something different. February 14, 2011 04:36 4 Comments
You're going over to his house. You're going to cook together. The first time. Ever. Y'all are making Pasta Carbonara and Strawberry Tiramisu. Yum bunnies. You're bringing the flowers. He's picking up the groceries. (You're going to try to squelch your inner control freak. It won't be easy. You love to make sure you get the perfect produce, the freshest eggs and cream. You pinch every tomato. Check every egg. Approve the date on every carton. Oh. Well. You'll just have to trust him. Drat. And trusting is not your strong point.)
Anyway.
You don't want to spoil your gorgeous 1940s frock. You don't. So. You're taking your favorite apron. Your very favorite. McCall 2105. Copyright 1955. With a strawberry. You love a theme. You do. But a heart for V-Day is so trite. So very, very. You made the apron last autumn. And you are so glad you did. Absolutely. You're going to make the watermelon version as well. So delightful. So summery. Mmmm . . . is it trite to make that version for the 4th of July? Or is it traditional? Oh, well. You've plenty of time to decide.
And, yes, this pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (And we happily ship abroad for a small postal fee.)
And, dear readers, I wish you the happiest Valentine's Day. Ever. Ever, at least, til next year.
The dress to wow that significant someone on Valentine's Day. January 26, 2011 08:26 6 Comments
Valentine's Day is just around the corner. Just. And you're having him over for a very intimate dinner. Very. You'll start with Crab Salad with Hearts of Palm, move on to Beef Tenderloin with Potato Hobo Sacks, and then, for dessert, Molten Chocolate Cakes. Yum bunnies. And for the final course, you. Or him. Or maybe both.
And you're making Simplicity 2229, circa 1930s, to wear. View 1. In silk velvet. Cranberry red, of course. Your favorite. Absolutely.
Yes. The pattern was expensive. It was. But it comes with not one, but two — yes, count them, two! — completely different views. A twofer. Both styles have exquisite details. The back of View 1. The sleeves of View 2. The godets. And both styles will complement your figure. Which is curvy. Of course. Because as the menu hints, you do like food. You do. So very, very much. Mmmmm.
It will be a night to remember. Yes. Indeed. It most certainly will.
And, of course, this pattern can be found at The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (And, yes, we do ship abroad, but there is a fee. There is. But just what it costs us. No handling charges. Ever.)
Now, this is the kind of swing-era dress you like. And how. January 18, 2011 11:23 1 Comment
You're in the mood to celebrate the new year. The new day. The new feeling of happiness. Abundance. Confidence. All the fabulous things that await you in 2011. And is there any better dress to illustrate your mood of optimism than McCall 5143, copyright 1943? Perfect for the office. It has an aura of competence. And it's snazzy enough for Sunday brunch, too. Perhaps in emerald green with a yoke the color of a Queen Elizabeth rose. Version B. Of course. You simply can't say no to three-quarter length sleeves. Maybe wool crepe. It's so beautiful and sews up so easily as well. Yes indeedy.
2010 is over. History. You learned a lot of lessons. You did. But it's time to march ahead. To embrace the new. Maybe even to skip. Yes. Skip! Be happy. Darn it. Ditch the blues. Do. Absolutely.
And, yes, this smart pattern can be yours. And for a mere $33. Just drop by The Blue Gardenia. Don't delay.
(And, yes, readers dear, that terrific giveaway I promised way back when is coming soon. Very. This week, in fact.)
Life is good. And this is the dress to celebrate that fact. It is. November 30, 2010 03:02 2 Comments
She is up early today. Unusual for her. She usually sleeps in. Really. Till noon. Sometimes till 1 o'clock. But. She could not sleep. She could not. She tried. And how. Without success. None.
She makes coffee. Stirs cream — yes, whole, heavy cream, complete with raw sugar — into the cup. Again, unusual. For her, anyway. Mmmmm. The cream. A luxury. So good. It is bliss.
She puts on a disc she made. She grabs in the dark. She does not know what her hand selects. The music will be a surprise as it comes out of the speakers. She has not listened to music in months. Months. She could tell you how many. She could. She could be exact. To the minute. To the second.
It is Dusty. " . . . is in yours eyes, the look your heart can't disguise, the look of love is saying so much more than just words can ever say . . . tonight, tonight, let this be the start of so many nights like this . . . don't ever go, I love you so . . .
They danced to it so many nights. Under the stars, the skin warm on her arms and her bare, tan legs, his hand firmly, tenderly guiding hers, strong yet, yet so gentle . . .
She is filled with desire. Desire so strong it nearly overwhelms her. She feels as if she opened her mouth, it would seep out. But she will not. She will not. She will keep it inside, that desire for nights long gone, nights that will never come again, desire that makes her feel alive.
Rosemary Clooney's voice comes on next. "Other dancers may be on the floor, dear, but my eyes will see only you . . . " She whips the turn. She is on the dance floor. Her skirt whirls. Flows. She glides.
But. But. He is gone. Gone. "To live it again is past all endeavor . . . and there we were, promising to love forever . . . till clouds came along . . ."
Oh well. Oh well. He is gone. Gone. It is time to accept that fact. She has mourned the dead romance too long. Absolutely.
The sun rises over the mountains outside her window. She sips her coffee. It is so good with cream. She has deprived herself for too long. She has. She knows now: Life will go on. Life will go on. It will. Yes. That is a cliche. And she hates cliches. But she must admit — she will admit — cliches become cliches for a reason. They do. Because they are true.
Tito comes on. Cha Cha Cha Mambo. She will go dancing this weekend. Alone. She will make a dress with a flippy, flirty skirt to celebrate. She paws through her patterns. Simplicity 8287 from 1969. She has the perfect lime-green silk crepe. Somewhere in her unorganized fabric stash. She will find it. And she will breathe again. She will. She has risen from her bed before dawn. She can do anything. She can. Even get over him. At last.
Oye Como Va comes on. Her hips wiggle. She won't stop them. She won't. Life will be good again. Heck. Life is good. Now. It is.
And, yes, this gorgeous pattern is available. At The Blue Gardenia. You can't live without it. Can you? Tell me so.
I am thankful for y'all & I'm showing it with a sparkling giveaway! November 26, 2010 07:44 181 Comments
So. You doubtless recall that I promised a fantabulous giveaway when I reached 30 followers. Well. Guess what, cupcakes? That moment has arrived. Yes indeed. It has. Yippee skippee. (Well. Actually, it arrived a few days ago. But. I am a procrastinator. You know that. You do.)
So. Rolling of drums. Blowing of horns. Crashing of cymbals. Here's what one lucky winner will get:
1950s pattern Butterick 5679 from The Blue Gardenia (of course!) in either Bust 32 or 34. Winner's choice. Yes. I agree. I am so nice.
Four yards of choose-your-favorite-over-the-top superlative 55" wide Italian wool from Michael's Fabrics in Blue Teal.
Revlon's Fire and Ice lipstick and nail polish. Introduced in 1952, this is truly vintage. And truly film-noir-vixen sexy. (That's Jessica Biel rocking the look today. The inset pic shows Dorian Leigh making it her own — and how — in 1952.)
Am I one fabulous babe or what? I am. I know you agree.
So. The rules: Leave a comment about why you like vintage patterns and whether you have ever sewn one before by Friday, December 3, 11:59 p.m. PST. And. If you are already a follower on Typepad and enter, or if you become a follower and enter, you get one extra entry. (Yes. I know it's a headache to become a follower on Typepad. I do. But perhaps an extra chance at winning this incredible prize will ease the pain.) See, girls and boys, I show my appreciation for those who show me the looooove. I do.
So. There ya go. And I thank all of you who follow. And I thank Sherri and Michael at Michael's for providing the luscious fabric. Absolutely. And if you haven't checked out Michael's, do. You won't regret it. You won't. I've shopped there several times over the years, and I've not been disappointed. Fast shipping, luxe fabric.
(A little hint: When I reach 75 followers, I'm going to do another sensational giveaway.)
Sewing spaces: Steph creates 3 hours past the edge of the world. November 21, 2010 08:56 2 Comments
Meet Steph of 3 Hours Past the Edge of the World. If you haven't already. She's an American. Who lives in strange land that is not the United States. (I do believe we have become one of the strangest lands around in the last year or so, a land best approached with a sea-to-shining-sea dose of humor. I love this country. I do. So much. But I would love to see sanity and tolerance and respect restored. "You go, then I go," to quote Jon Stewart. But that's another story. Heavy sigh. It is.) To get back to today's topic: Steph sews. She creates splendiferous garments. She blogs. Don't miss her post on candy stripes. A delight. Absolutely. But now, let's tour the space where she creates her gorgeous garments.
Do you have a dedicated sewing space?
I have half the study. My machines and ironing board stay out permanently. Occasionally, my sewing/experimenting takes over the house, but I do try to keep it contained.
What do you like best about your sewing area?
The cork floor tiles on the wall. I pin up all the little bits that used to clutter my sewing space. Extra pockets, samples, scraps, drawings, pictures of family, orphaned patterns, pretty colors.
What would you change about your space?
Right now I "share" with my "darling husband": his fishing gear, entomology projects and computer. Eventually, I'll have a room of my own: natural light, glass-fronted cupboards for fabric, an outsize cutting table and a kitchenette.
How is your space organized?
I have a comfy desk chair, and I barricade myself behind the ironing board. My sewing machine sits on a computer table, my computer sits on the pull-out tray beneath. My overlocker sits on a desk to the right.
It works pretty well to have the ironing board lowered to sitting height. I can pin, sew, finish and press by just spinning my chair. I used to think that was lazy, but this set up greatly improved my sewing speed.
I have a wooden tackle box next to my machine. Everything for a current project lies within arm's reach that way, no stopping to fumble around finding bits or fugitive tools.
If you have a fabric stash, how do you impose order?
I don't tend to stash, except fabrics of a particularly flattering tone of blue. My sewing goes through phases — I buy a nice pile of fabric, then work on the patterns, then cut, then sew, then buy again.
My stash, such as it is, consists mainly of scrap, inheritance and reclaimed fabrics.
How are your patterns organized?
I keep them in labeled manila envelopes along with any notes or scraps of fabric or whatever I think might be useful the next time I open the pattern. I have an accordion file which holds patterns for my little girl, my husband, crafts and my mother-in-law. I have a few others for my personal patterns, divided by decade. I store them in a little shelf by my sewing machine, sometimes stuffing them under the overlocker desk.
Are your patterns archived? How are they stored?
Since I work primarily from vintage patterns, which are in dwindling supply, I tend to copy a pattern and release it back into the wild via ebay. I never do that for patterns after the early 50s. I have a file on my computer of envelope scans, then I rummage through accordion files until I find it. When I am in the middle of a sewing frenzy, I often end up with orphaned pattern pieces. They go on the cork board until the pattern envelope turns up. Call it controlled chaos.
What do you cut out your patterns on?
I use kitchen counter or "bench" as the Aussies call it. I keep polytrace (for copying patterns), scissors, and some patterns in a commandeered cabinet beneath. My drafting tools hang on a board next to the fridge.
What is your most helpful tool? Why?
Can I name three if they all go together? Quilter's rule, rotary cutter and mat. I use it for quilting (obviously) as well as cutting bias strips, for squaring up, for cutting welts, some kinds of cuffs, bags, etc.
What tools do you recommend for the beginning sewer?
I teach beginner sewers. I know at the beginning, it seems like you fork out a lot of $$ to set up, but try to get the best tools you can afford. It's hard to do good work when you have to fight with your tools.
Scissors: They don't have to be expensive, but they do need to be sharp and dedicated solely to fabric.
Pins: Glass head, so they won't melt.
Chalk for marking.
Seam ripper: Once again, a nice sharp one is easier to use.
Measuring tape
Quilter's ruler: I'm so not kidding about how great they are.
Quality thread: Inferior thread creates inferior stitching. A branded thread is a safe bet, avoid generic like the plague.
Magnetic pincushion: not required, but many end up with one because they're so convenient.
What kind of machine do you use?
I use a Janome 4900 for my sewing and a Husqvarna 905 for my overlocking (serging).
What do you like about it?
I like the way it trills an electronic greeting when I turn it on. I like its get-up-and-go motor. I like the stitch quality. I like its bartacks, eyelets, hemstitching and range of decorative stitches. I like all the crazy feet it came with. I have to be familiar with all those functions as part of my job, so I constantly use the feet and stitching in my own sewing.
My machine is reliable, too. I don't have to stop sewing to fix some machine issue, which is a motivation killer for me.
Do you use a serger? Why do you like it?
I do use a serger, but it's not the be all and end all in my sewing. I use it mostly for casuals, little girl clothes and knits. I find it invaluable for that. However, I like to line garments, I like felled, French and Hong Kong seams, and I find they usually wear harder in the long run.
How long did it take you to develop your sewing space?
I've been working on my corner of the study for about a year now, but it only recently started feeling "right."
Mmmmm. Note to self: When setting up my space, consider the technique of Erica B. and Steph to keep things within arms' reach.
Next on Sewing Spaces: Karen of Sewing by the Seat of My Pants and Kay of The Sewing Lawyer. Don't miss 'em. Be there, be square. And all that.
And. No. No. I have not forgotten that I promised to update you, dear readers, on my own forays into the world of needle arts. I haven't. Maybe later today. Maybe. It could happen. Absolutely.
(Meanwhile: You go, then I go, she chanted.)
How to deal productively with your anger? Why, sew. Of course. November 17, 2010 09:15 13 Comments
OK. You'll admit it. You are annoyed about the decision on DWTS last night. Heck. You are pissed! Totally. First, Rick Fox, so sexy you could eat him with a spoon, was bounced, even though he was a far superior
dancer than Kurt Warner. Then elegant, graceful, no-dance-experience-to-her-resume Audrina Patridge was shown the door. And now, sexy, lithe Brandy booted, gracelessly, while reality TV starlet and presidential campaign veteran Bristol Palin, whom you'll admit has learned to be drug across the floor in the most simple choreography ever to be shown at this late date on the show, stays. Stays! In the finals. The finals! Isn't this show about dance? Maksim Chmerkovskiy's choreography for Brandy was difficult — and how — while Mark Ballas's choreography for Bristol was beginning-dance-class simple. And you're a trained dancer, so you know. You do. Grrrrrr. You wonder: Are so many white folks in America threatened by gorgeous black people like Fox and Brandy? Sure, Kyle Massey is still on the show. Sure. He is. And he deserves to be in the finals. He does. You won't argue that. But. He's childlike, delightful, totally non-threatening. He's the sweet and innocent saucer-eyed porter who ducks behind the bar in the 1930s screwball comedies when the silly white folk start throwing dangerous objects here and there.
Yes. You are angry. You are.
So. What to do with your anger? What? How to deal with it productively? How? Sew. That is the answer. Sew. A lot. Cape. Slacks. Skirt. Top. Hood. All designed by Sybil Connolly. All gorgeous. All sophisticated. All extremely wearable. All from the late '60s. All included in Vogue Couturier Design 1125. And. Yes. It is available at The Blue Gardenia. Yes indeedy. So. Buy the pattern. And tell me what you think. Heck. Tell me what you think. Even if you don't buy the pattern.
Sewing Spaces: Kristin of k-line's room is as pretty as she is. November 16, 2010 15:57 5 Comments
Oh my. In fact, oh my, oh my, oh my, oh my! Kristin of k-line has only been sewing for a year. A year! I feel totally deflated. Yet inspired. There is hope for me. Somewhere. Somehow. But. Enough about me. Enough about my lack of dedication to learning the craft. (Just do it, Denise! Do it.) Let's go see the stitching area of a dame with the pluck to go the distance. And how.
Do you have a dedicated sewing space?
I have a "sewga" room — a place I used formerly only for yoga practice (it was zenlike and empty) — which is now shared with my sewing paraphernalia. It isn't huge, but it works very well for its purposes. I am extremely grateful for it.
What do you like best about your sewing area?
Oh, I like so much. It's got great natural light (though not much in the way of views). It's got lovely hardwood floors and a mirror that makes me look skinny :-). I love my table with my machines. I just got these new organizer bins with a wood top that are quite cool and useful, IMO. Oh, and it has a door!
What would you change about your space?
Ha! Well, I'd give it a fantastic view. And I'm working on better task lighting (mine sucks) and a functional chair. I would, of course, love for both of these to be very chic. So it's taking a while.
How is your space organized?
Within an inch of its life! Well, I use the wooden cupboard for my fabric. The bins for notions and props and my special pattern filing system (stolen from Victoria). I like everything to be very straight, too. What I mean is, I can't stand it when things are off grain. So everything is lined up.
If you have a fabric stash, how do you impose order?
I have a stash, and I'd have a store if I could justify it. How I love fabric. All the potential in the universe exists on its surface. My deal with myself is that when I can't fit stuff in the cupboard, I stop buying. So far, so good. But it's close.
How are your patterns organized?
Oh, I have this great system which I mentioned at some length in a blog post. Here's the synopsis: I have a binder containing a pattern index which relates to clear plastic envelopes, also in the binder, that store pattern paper sleeves. The actual patterns are stored in my special storage bins. Index numbers link the pattern to the clear envelope to the index sheet to the binned pattern-content envelopes.
Are your patterns archived? How are they stored?
Oh, I guess my last answer goes with this question too. The pattern contents are archived in the storage bins, after use. So far I haven't exceeded the amount of space in those.
Do you have a mannequin made to measure?
I wish! I want one of those fancy made-to-measure ones that cost hundreds of bucks, but I'm still paying off my new serger :-) I think it would be very useful to be able to drape. I love sewing with stretch fabrics and knits and using drape styles.
What do you cut out your patterns on?
My dining room table. I use a rotary cutter and self-healing mats. It's not an optimal system. I need a mat that fits the entire table. Haven't got that yet and, truly, I have no idea of where I'd store it — but I couldn't leave it out.
What is your most helpful tool? Why?
I find this to be one of your most fascinating questions, Denise. How can I choose? I'm going to go with my rotary cutter, because it's so much better than scissors, IMO. Mind you, I've only ever used scissors once, so I could be making that up. Of course, I am indebted to my machines.
What tools do you recommend for the beginning sewer?
A decent machine — which need not break the bank or require Ebay scouting skills. I use one from Wal-Mart (not that I like to plug Wal-Mart, but my point is that it's a really reliable machine, and I got it for 200 bucks). Knowing what I know now, I might have tried to find a great mechanical machine second hand — like one from the '70s. But mine works very adequately. I did add about 100 bucks into the machine in presser feet and gizmos.
What kind of machine do you use?
I have a Brother CE5000. (I also have a Singer 185J, theoretically manufactured in the '50s in Canada, but I have my suspicions. I've looked into the serial numbers, and I think the shell was actually imported from Scotland. . . . My MIL gave me this one, which was her sewing machine when she got married. It's a tank — beautifully made and, now that it's refurbished, it works excellently. But I'm a bit intimidated by it still. Oh, and it doesn't do anything other than a straight stitch. So if I'm working on a project that needs multiple machine functions, I tend to stick with the Brother.)
What do you like about the Brother?
It's knowable. And it was easy to learn on. And it sews nice stitches — even with knits, which I understand some machines don't play nice with.
Do you like your serger? If so, why?
Oh, YES! I love this question, because I just got a serger, and it's a Babylock Imagine — the ne plus ultra. I feel a bit like a fraud for owning such a beautiful machine with my level of talent and experience, but I will grow into it. I swear!
How long did it take you to develop your sewing space?
I started sewing Nov. 1, 2009, and, at first, sewed at the dining room table, sewga room notwithstanding, until the early new year. It took me a couple of months of sewing in a communal space before I felt comfortable enough to cloister myself. I also didn't know if I'd have the fortitude to continue. But here I still am. And my room is definitely a work in progress.
Later this week, I'll chat with Steph of 3 Hours Past the Edge of the World. And. And — are you sitting down, dear readers — I'll share what I've been up to. Can you wait? I know it's hard. I do. But try. OK?
Sewing Spaces: Sewistas, we have a winner . . . November 11, 2010 12:48 7 Comments
We do. And she is one lucky female. Her name is Marisa, and her blog is beautiful, and I suppose I will have to forgive her for not being a regular reader. Or will I? Some things pierce the heart too deeply, and perhaps this is one. Pass those Puffs, please.
At any rate, she will be getting her prize — the ever-so-feminine Crepe pattern from Colette, luscious royal blue wool crepe from Gorgeous Fabrics, a cute-as-a-mewling-pup pin cushion from The Cupcake Goddess and pretty Cherries in the Snow, both lipstick and nail polish. (A warm-and-toasty thank you to Sarai, Ann, Sunni — and ever-so-modest me — for providing prizes. I bow to all of you. I do.)
And, Marisa, congratulations! Absolutely. And I thank each and every one of you for entering. I am touched and pleased that so many people left a comment. I am. Truly. And, yes, there will be another contest soon. Very.
Shameless plug: The perfect blouse. The sexiest negligee. Plus. November 9, 2010 13:22 4 Comments
It is that time again, girls and boys. Time to dazzle you (I hope) with fabulous additions. And I do think the vintage patterns we've added are fabulous. Absolutely. Here are a few of my favorites of the 70something or so we added. And keep in mind that I do like blouses. Ever so much.
In my opinion — and, of course, it is humble, you know it is — McCall 7768, View B, copyright 1949, is the perfect blouse. Absolutely. Yes indeedy. The collar has just enough width to add drama, yet not overpower; the shoulder gathers are flattering to all bust sizes; the low neckline adds just the merest hint of sexiness; and the cuffs add style that even Tim Gunn would give a shiny tinfoil gold star.
Another blouse that this fashionista adores: Advance 6893, from the 1950s. It's ladylike. So say the scallops. Yes. But its neckline that dips just north of there says it's wearer might just be ready to rumba. And definitely knows how.
And if you've been salivating over The Cupcake Goddess's boyfriend jacket — I confess, I have — you can make your very own with Butterick 3064. Sure, there are a few differences. But they are minor. Very. The collar is a wee bit narrower; the pockets are curved, big and usable for those of use who like to stick our hands inside to play with the pocket lint and to strike a scholarly pose. But the flavor is the same. (And while you're at The Cupcake Goddess blog checking out her jacket — read her posts on aging. Let me know what you think. Better yet, let her know.)
And then there is Butterick 5413. Talk about channeling Jean Harlow and Carole Lombard. And how. Luscious. Unusual. Screams 1930s glamour. It does. And don't you love those kimono sleeves? I do.
And, yup, you can buy each and every one of these lovelies — and more — at The Blue Gardenia. We take Amex, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa to make it easy for you. Do not — I repeat — do not let these get away. Make me happy. Make my little canine pals happy. And make yourself happy, too. Do.
Channeling Catherine: Frost hair. Don shades. Clutch coat. November 2, 2010 15:55
Shades at night: Mysterious.
Attractive male accessory: Wanted.
Rich brown silk taffeta seersucker, available at Gorgeous Fabrics: Luxurious.
Style 1946, available at The Blue Gardenia, made as an evening coat: Evocative.
Let this '30s coat remind you: Happy days will be here again. October 31, 2010 12:32
You were returning from a coffee date with Joan when she told you the news: Her house had sold after 11 months on the market. You were happy for her. You were. And the feeling was genuine. But. Now, now you're thinking why couldn't I get a bit of good news? Why? Why? Why? Why?
Oh, you hate this. You do. Feeling sorry for yourself. You won't stand for it. Sure you've been out of work for 14 months. Long months. Endless months. Penny-pinching months. Your retirement account? History. A pleasant memory. Gone. Still, you're grateful you had it. But you will not stand for self-pity. You won't. No way.
So. You think you'll make yourself a coat. In that kelly-green wool gabardine in your fabric stash. The green will remind you not to be envious of the good luck that shines on friends. Heck. On anyone. You'll line it with that luscious cherry-print silk charmeuse you bought years ago in San Francisco. And, that, of course, will remind you that there is delicious fruit as well as rocky pits.
You'll use Simplicity 1880. It's a 1930s pattern. Better days were ahead then. And better days are ahead now. That job? It's just around the corner. You'll be in clover soon. You will. You know it. All those job applications will pay off. Soon. Absolutely.
And, yes, this gorgeous and rare pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia. It's enduring proof that hard times can be overcome. To paraphrase Lawrence Welk, there are good years, and there are bad years, and this is one of them. So. As that cute-kitty poster said: Hang in there, kid.
This is the coat for your Dr. Zhivago moments. October 21, 2010 15:41 2 Comments
She's thinking coats. Something warm. Something stylish. Maybe something a little Julie Christie as Lara in Dr. Zhivago. Perhaps Vogue Basic Design 1983, View C. Yes. That's the one. Absolutely. It's gorgeous. And stylish. So very. And she'll be protected from those fierce winds of winter wherever she goes. Wherever. She'll stitch it up in cashmere. Lined in silk charmeuse. And fake fur. Of course. She wonders: Can she find faux chinchilla? Mmmmm . . . somewhere.
And if you can't live without this coat pattern — and I hope you can't — just drop by The Blue Gardenia. The details, if you please: Bust 36. Still in factory folds. $33. And, naturally, there's no charge for shipping if you are in the US. So. There you go. It's the perfect coat for winter 2010-11. It is.
That Touch of Fashion: Doris Day nails the casual look. And how. October 16, 2010 09:30
Now. This is stylish casual. This is comfy casual. This is the way to dress on Saturday. At the farmer's market while pinching tomatoes. At the cafe while dipping a fry in ketchup. At the car wash while reading People, your favorite guilty pleasure. Yes, Ms. Day knows how to do this look. She's got it down. Absolutely.
And if you want a similar look, you might stitch up Advance Sew-Easy 3436. It's the fall version, with the longer-sleeved tunic and the rolled neck to protect you from brisk winds. I recommend wearing shoes while outdoors, though. No need for frosty toes. And, of course, there are those proprietors that frown on bare feet. Go figure.
And, yes, this pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia. The details — because, of course, you want to know — Bust 34, still in factory folds, $33, and no shipping fees unless you live abroad. There you go. Let those fingers do their thing and walk on over to the The Blue Gardenia. Because. This look is classic. Because. It's a beginner pattern, and that means easy. Because. I appreciate you. Because. Henry and Emma like their canine treats. They do.
Wear this 1940s power suit, and that job offer is in the bag. October 14, 2010 17:57 2 Comments
You've pawed through your wardrobe with the determination of a pooch looking for his favorite bone. Time and again. Back and forth through the suits and dresses. And yet. And yet nothing seems perfect for your job interview week after next. Nothing. And since you've been out of work 62 weeks now — 62 weeks without one single interview — everything has to be exactly right, from your Ferragamo pumps (Gammy Ruth always told you to buy quality because quality lasts and lasts) to your suit to your French twist.
Now, you're pawing through your patterns. Eureka! Here is one that says competence and confidence, quietly but firmly. Butterick 2249, circa 1940s. It's simple. You don't want anything flashy. You don't. But it has style in those tucks that nip in the waist. And originality. You aren't just any applicant. No. You aren't. You are the one. The one they want. The one they must have. Yes, this is the suit. The suit that will have an offer coming your way — and soon. And you have just the fabric stored in your sewing room armoire: a blue-gray wool gabardine. Oh, yes. The phone will be ringing. It will. Gainful employment will be yours again. Oh, joy. Paychecks! Bliss is just around the corner. It is.
And, yes, this pattern can be yours. Yes indeedy. It's at The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free.
Be the only female in town to have a '40s style pouch peplum suit. October 7, 2010 13:54
You want a new jacket for fall. Something special. Something different. You'll even venture so far as to say something unique. And that is not a word you use lightly. You do not want something that every Ann, Tiffany or Celeste is wearing. You want something that will make a pair of jeans look sassy. Something that will look equally at home with a black pencil skirt at the office. And you have found it: Butterick 4422 from the 1940s. The pouch peplum creates that "smart new rounded hipline look," claims the envelope. And you have no doubt that is true. Absolutely. Perhaps in pistachio wool crepe? Or perhaps a hazy mauve. Mmmmm . . . Yes. That's the color. Perfection. Indeed.
And, yes, this magnificent suit is available at The Blue Gardenia. Didn't you know it? You did, didn't you? The details: Bust 34, complete, $50. Be the only one on the block to have this unusual and glamorous suit. Do not delay. The winds of autumn are blowing gentle, and this offers stylish protection. Truly.
For those Carole Lombard moments, say yes to Hollywood 928. October 6, 2010 17:56 2 Comments
You've spent the day in complete enjoyment. Lounging. A couch potato. Watching Carole Lombard movies. Eating M & M's. Was it fun? Yessiree Bob. Ever so. Yes indeedy.
Seeing Ms. Lombard slinking about in those sexy, bare evening gowns and those sleek, fashionable day frocks has you thinking: Why not you? Why not plunge into the 1930s with Hollywood 928, circa 1936? You can make the short frock for day now. It will set them back on their heels at the office. And later, if there's a Christmas soiree that calls for a formal gown, you can whip up that gorgeous version with the pleated sleeves. Grand detail that. Absolutely.
And, of course, this pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia. It's multifunctional. Day or evening. And it is bee-yoo-tee-ful. Without a doubt. Can you say no? Don't even think of it. Don't.