The Blue Gardenia

Your dress is finished for your date with Don. And it is so sexy. July 24, 2010 08:56

Mad_men_premiere_dressYou got up early today. Bought radishes, lettuce, peaches and purple cherry tomatoes at the farmers market. Now. Relaxation. The phone is off. Raul Malo is on the stereo. You're going to read Dancing in the Dark until your eyelids get heavy and naptime beckons. You can loaf, give your Type A personality the day off, and enjoy your entire Saturday. Absolutely. You're going over to friends for dinner and the return of Don Draper tomorrow. How you've missed him. And Joan. And Peggy. You know you'll look chic in Advance Sew-Easy 3460, circa early 1960s. You whipped it up out of some luscious vintage green silk. And you cannot wait to wear it. Sometimes, you are such a show-off. And sometimes — like this lazy day — well, not so much. Capris and a tee are just fine. Yes indeedy.

Learning to sew: Dry your eyes and get your fabric on grain July 9, 2010 09:12

So. I have been procrastinating about cutting out my Mad Men skirt. I admit, dear readers, that I feel a little silly calling it a Man Men skirt. Why, you ask, awaiting my answer with boundless anticipation? Well. Because. Because I have  been wearing pencil skirts for years, long before there was a Joan Holloway Harris. They are flattering. They are comfortable. They so often fit the occasion. (Though they do not work on the dance floor. Too limiting. Too tight.) However. I am addicted to Mad Men, and I am ever so glad that they have brought the pencil skirt to a new audience of devotees. Truly.

But enough babbling.

Lovely Marticia, that fountain of sewing knowledge she, sent me a scan from the Reader's Digest Complete Guide to Sewing to help me overcome my fear of cutting my gorgeous black linen-cotton off grain.

I also found some helpful tips in The Art of Dressmaking, published in 1927 by Butterick. Yes, of pattern fame. You know them. You do.

So. I am armed, if not dangerous. And I have cleared the day to tackle the evil forces of fraying selvages. Wish me luck. Do. And I hope that these pages will benefit any other scaredy-cat fledglings out there. Absolutely.