Inspirations: Run those Saturday errands in style February 21, 2009 17:07

Do you run those pesky errands every Saturday? The grocery store. Costco. The car wash. Staples.

Oh. You. Doubters. February 20, 2009 17:19

Inspirations: A little drama at the grocery store February 12, 2009 17:20

Vogue Paris Original 2789, Designed by Nina Ricci

There are days when you just don't feel like throwing on your quilted black car coat again. When it simply will not do. When it's too plain. Too ordinary. Too boring. Sure, it's well-cut. Sure, it's comfortable. It's as cozy as a cup of orange pekoe with two cubes of sugar.

Sure, you're only running to the market for mustard greens and peanut butter. But. Doesn't the checker deserve a little lift? Something more attractive than a faded Axl Rose tee-shirt under a tired hoodie? Of course, he does. Of course, she does.

So. What to do? What?

Enrich your options, you stylish cookie, you. Stitch up this exquisite cape by Nina Ricci. Love the scarf collar. So jaunty. So sassy. So perfect. Absolutely.

Inspirations: The dress that makes tough choices easy January 27, 2009 16:09 2 Comments

Vogue Paris Original 1113,

designed by Jacques Fath,

copyright 1950

I have lusted in my heart, dear readers. Yes indeedy. January 22, 2009 15:47 1 Comment

All right. I admit it. The gorgeous Tracy Feith dress that Michelle Obama wore yesterday morning to church inspired one of the seven deadly sins. Yep. You guessed it. Lust.  Or to be more specific — fashionlust: excessive love of another's clothing. Love this one. Love it. Love it. Love it. Abundantly. It's the perfect choice for one's first day at work. It's comfortable yet comely. Absolutely.

The simple  and hard to beat 1950s silhouette was made even more arresting by the print. If you want to make your own, try Simplicity 2338, copyright 1957. Simplicity claims it's simple to make. Note View 3, the black-and-white version. Didn't Skipper have one just like that?

Shameless plug: The slim silhouette or the frilly one? January 21, 2009 13:36 2 Comments

Forgive me. I was so overcome with excitement about the inauguration yesterday that I completely forgot to tell you about the update. I apologize. Profusely.

Yes, I added many amazing vintage patterns. I'll share pics and info about a few of them. But. Only a few, because I want you to visit The Blue Gardenia to see the rest. Don't let me down. Please. I look dreadful when my mascara runs. Really. I'm a sight.

From the early 1930s, Simplicity 1422 gently whispers "smart." (Can you hear it?) The tucks on the shoulders. The double row of buttons. The slim skirt with the graceful yet saucy inverted pleat. I see the blouse in ivory silk charmeuse — perhaps a 30 mummy ­- and the skirt in black wool crepe. (Yes, I can be quite the traditionalist. Quite. Surprised?)

Are you cooking more these days? You, frugalista, you. So am I. However. You may be pinching pennies. You may be scrambling your own eggs. But scrimp on style? No way. No how. In one word: Never! And that is where McCall's 2263 enters. It's stylish. It's sexy. It's from the fifties. And it includes three different patterns. How sensible is that? Yes. I see your accountant smiling. I do.

Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh, girlfriend. I am clutching my heart over McCall's 4257, copyright 1974. It's Stephen Burrows. So you know it's glamorous. You know it's comfortable. You know it's irresistible. You know it has his trademark lettuce edging. And you know why I am having palpitations.

And, now, the fine print. You knew it was coming, you smarty. New additions always go at the beginning of each category. And we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you. And, of course, checks, money orders, and cold, hard cash.

Michelle speaks, and I listen. January 20, 2009 15:42 2 Comments

I will let you, my pretties, decide for yourselves if Michelle Obama channeled Laura Bush or Jackie Kennedy in her inaugural ensemble. Sophisticate or sofa?  The choice is yours. 

I will give you the details — as if you didn't already know. The dress, coat, and cardigan was designed by Isabel Toledo, stitched up in the Cuban-American designer's New York atelier by Chinese, Polish and Spanish seamstresses. It's made of Swiss wool lace and lined in French silk. Oh, girl, you are going global. Absolutely.

So. If you want to emulate our beautiful First Lady, I have several suggestions. Of course. You knew I would.

Add a ribbon to the coat in Simplicity 4194, and you'll have one like Ms. Obama's. The dress is a little spicier, certainly, but you're not the First Lady, so who cares? Show that gorgeous skin. You can do it. And. I rather like this bodice. The better to show off a statement-making necklace.

McCall's 6676, from 1962 — speaking of Jackie  – offers another choice. Simple. Elegant. And, surely, surely, surely, it's not that difficult to make. Ya think?

Put your own slant on the inaugural dress and coat with Butterick 2219. It's full-skirted, sure, but the shoe-string belt pays homage to Ms. O's ensemble. And you can always make it in lemongrass. Or yellow, if you're feeling mellow. (Yes. I confess. I was practically imbedded in  the TV most of the day. I did rip myself away for a few minutes to paw through The Blue Gardenia archives to find these patterns. I suffer for you. I do. I'll do anything to make you happy. Anything. Almost.)

And then there's Vogue Couturier Design 1276, designed by Michael. This is the one I would wear. Love the overblouse. Love the coat details: the flaps, the collar. In fact, know what? I love this ensemble. Period. Love it.

So. Lemongrass. Lemonade. Sunshine. Maize. Whatever. Wear a dress and matching coat. Soon. Reference our new First Lady. Go forth. Be a glimmering ray of hope. After all. It's a new dawn. It's a new day. It isn't just cliche. It isn't. I insist.

Learning to sew: I did it. Gulp. December 15, 2008 13:58 2 Comments

I should be jumping. I should be skipping. I should be turning lopsided cartwheels. I should be. Because I cut out my fashion fabric. The real thing.

But.

I am not jumping. I am not skipping. I am not turning any kind of cartwheel at all. Because. Because I am not sure I cut the fabric properly. The problem? The root of my apprehension? I used a vintage fabric, only 39 inches wide, and Simplicity did not supply a cutting layout for that width.  Drat. Double drat. Fiddlesticks. And all that.

Here is the method behind my cutting madness: I folded the fabric horizontally, right sides together, placed the pattern pieces face down, and cut. Cut. Irrevocable. Undoable. Eeeekkk. Get me a paper bag, please. I am hyperventilating.

Tell me this will work. OK? If not, tell me what I should have done. The better to correct the mistake next time. I await your learned responses, dear readers. Really. I do. I am on pins and needles. (Yes, yes. Cheap pun. I know. Forgive me. Please. Just this once.)

Damp tissue dramas: This time, tears of joy fall like rain. December 11, 2008 15:56

Yes. Yes. I did cut out my pattern last night. I did. I was confused by the exterior jags at the bottom of each possible length, though. Why, I wondered, was there a protrusion where the shorts, capris, slacks ended? Why? So. I met a sewing bud for coffee, and she explained. The hem will pucker otherwise. Oh. Duh. You'll be happy to know the light switched on later today. Oh. Oh! I get it. I do. Really.

But. I have other topics of interest. To me, at any rate. The bathroom. You remember it. I know you do. You hang on every facet of my life. Of course you do. Don't you? Don't puncture my self-esteem if you don't. Please. I'm easily wounded. I am. Don't make me reach for those Puffs.

Well, it's almost done. Finally. Andrew, the tile master, above, is very pleased. And so am I. His trusty sidekick, Pat, is standing in the shower. The bee-yoo-tee-ful shower. Pat is wearing my favorite t-shirt slogan: Genius by birth, slacker by choice. A gift from his mommy. The tile pattern in the shower is his design, inspired by my floor design. Love those 12" by 20" floor tiles. Ummm hmmm. I do. You can see them in the pic with Andrew. In the background. Behind his smilin' mug. Love the master bath. I do. Now. Tiny, yes. So true. The size of a Twinkie. But also, well, rather attractive. If I do say so myself. Doncha think?

Inspirations: In this dress, the world is at your well-shod feet December 8, 2008 14:06 1 Comment

Simplicity 2296, Copyright 1957

You thumb through your closet. What to wear to work today? What? You're not in the mood for a power suit. You want something that whispers power, gently, softly. You want something that looks smart, that will look at home in a chic cafe. Something that will be comfortable for Christmas shopping. Oh, this. Yes. Simplicity 2296. You stitched it up a mere two weeks ago in that luscious red wool crepe you bought on sale this spring. Already, you've worn it twice. But why not? It has that Maggie Prescott flair, but it's as easy as an old pair of Tod's. Yes. This is the one. Absolutely.

Junior Mints, anyone? December 7, 2008 16:59

I know. You think I've been slacking today. Reading True Detective and eating Junior Mints. Watching Lifetime. Napping. Oh. You. Doubters.

Actually, I've been working. I have. Organizing. Sorting. I have 81 spools of thread. 81. Egads! I have more zippers than I care to count. Likewise buttons. I have 21 belt buckles. I have frogs in blue, red, black, green, aqua. (Have I mentioned I am fond of style Oriental?) I am stunned. I am amazed. Truly. I did not know.

But. My sewing space is nearly organized. Soon, I can say neatly organized.

Happy, happy, joy, joy. Oh, wait . . . hasn't that been said before? Oh, well.

Shameless plug: Oh, but you're lovely. Especially in these frocks. December 5, 2008 10:32 1 Comment

Because I am passionate about patterns. Because you want something new and festive for New Year's Eve. Because Andrew the tile guy likes to be paid for his labor. Because Henry Jones and Emma like their treats. Because. I've added nearly 80 dazzling vintage patterns to The Blue Gardenia.

And, boys and girls, I do not exaggerate. I do not overstate. These patterns are ravishing. And when I say ravishing, I mean ravishing. Absolutely. So. I'll share a few — just a few – of my favorites with you.

Starting with the 1930s, Simplicity 1708. This one offers not one, but two terrific views. If you're feeling unfailingly feminine and frilly, try the version with ruffles that cascade both front and back. If you want something that's stern yet stylish, something that has a whiff of businesslike briskness for the office, the other view more than fits the bill.

On to the 1940s. If you're in the mood to release your inner glamour puss, I recommend Butterick 3789. Slide on your above-the-elbow gloves — don't they feel good - and glide, glide, glide, girl, glide across the room to the piano. Play The Way You Look Tonight. Purr the words in your sultry voice. Meow. You kitten you.

Now, slip into your traveling shoes and let's saunter to the 1960s. Pile your silky tresses atop your gorgeous noggin — ouch! Don't cross those bobby pins — and slip into Vogue Paris Original 1333. Designed by Jacques Heim, it is perfect for channeling Suzy Parker in a Grecian goddess mode. Yep. That's one sexy, sophisticated minx looking back at you in the mirror. Yes indeed.

There are so many more marvelous patterns! You'll also find new in Children, Men, Lingerie and 1950s. And, as always, new additions go at the beginning of each category to make it easier for our loyal customers (I thank you, I do). And remember, we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you.

Now. Click. Shop. Enjoy. You've been good. You deserve it. Santa told me so.

Calling all seamstresses: Tell me what you think, please November 23, 2008 13:09 4 Comments

Simplicity 9624, Copyright 1971

Shameless plug: We've got style if you want it. And you do. November 20, 2008 09:10

Inspirations: I hear my Bernina calling my name. Yes, indeedy. November 2, 2008 13:59 1 Comment

McCall's 5592, copyright 1960

Well. I share good news. Great news, in fact. Andrew the Tile Guru told beloved hubby yesterday that he’s at the halfway point on the bathroom tile. Yippee skippee. I repeat: Yippee skippee. 

So. Guess what, my blog-reading friends?  I am dreaming of sewing again. Yes. I am. And this Hannah Troy design is one powerful inspiration. Alluring. Magnetic. Absolutely. Look at the neckline. Curvy lines. Plunging lines. Sexy. Yet graceful. Very. I see it in coral taffeta. The full-skirt version for night. Of course. For hours of unrestricted dancing pleasure.

For day, the hug-the-hips version in a charcoal wool. Perhaps single-faced. Perhaps crepe. Either would be irresistible. Completely.

Oh, Bernina, machine of mine, do you miss me?

By any name, it's packed with 1940s attitude October 15, 2008 18:38 3 Comments

Meet Gilda. Misnamed, I think. Frankly, it should be Gene. As in Tierney. This luscious wedge reminds me of the beautiful Ms. Tierney in Leave Her to Heaven. Sure. Her character was a manipulative witch. But what a stylish one. But. No matter what one calls it, it is delicious. Bewitching. Sassy. Elegant. And totally 1940s. Imagine it with 1940s slacks. I do. In fact, it makes me want to stitch up a pair right now. Oh, right. I have to learn to sew first. Which means I have to finish my home improvement project. So that I can restore order to our home. So I will have room to cut out fabric. So. So. So. Drat.

At any rate. I want this shoe. I am breathless with desire. All right. I exaggerate. Slightly.

However. It is too cold here for sandals now. It was 17 at my house Sunday morning. 17! In October. But. For spring, this is the shoe. The one. Be it Gilda. Be it Gene. No matter. It has my name on it.

If you feel the same, or just have a yen for shoes that look vintage but aren’t, check out Remix Vintage Shoes. Philip Heath of Remix says their shoes are made in Spain and Mexico, except for the Hollywood stilettos, which are made right here in the USA. In case you care. And I bet you do.

Inspirations: Happy days will be here again. Absolutely. October 13, 2008 17:37 3 Comments

Vogue Couturier Design 353, circa 1940s

This is, quite simply, a fabulous suit. It’s simple. It’s elegant. It’s multi-purpose. In sleek charcoal wool 120, it would signal “do not, under any circumstances, mess with me.”  It is fine armor for a trying business meeting. Protective. Absolutely. In black crepe with a black silk satin collar and a floor length skirt, it would quietly personify tuxedo chic at the most formal of affairs. And reference YSL. A favorite. In coral linen, it would command respect at the snootiest ladies luncheon. In navy silk, it would not only ensure the job would be yours, but it would command a salary that yesterday’s CEOs would not sneer at today. Can you live without this suit? It is a suit for precarious times. It will carry you through til better days. Sunshiny days. Happy days. Green days. Indeed.

Inspirations: Be it calm, be it brisk, you are ready. October 9, 2008 17:16 3 Comments

Vogue Couturier Design 242, circa 1940s

One weekend closer to sewing. I promise. October 5, 2008 18:35 1 Comment

Well. I can’t say this has been a typical weekend. Not at all. But. That, my dear readers, is a good thing. A very good thing. I won’t complain. Work was done. So. I am that much closer to sewing. Really.

His Bertness took some steps toward decluttering the garage. He built a new stand for the mailbox. He trimmed a ponderosa pine. Ever so productive was he.

And Mike the painter gave up his Saturday morning to paint the bathroom, so that Andrew the tile guy could work today. Yippee skippee.

And this all started because the roof leaked. As you no doubt recall. Because, of course, you remember every detail of my life with amazing clarity. Right?

And, yes. That is indeed vinyl flooring circa 1979 framing Mike. Brown vinyl flooring. Your eyes do not deceive. Please don’t tattle about it to my interior design instructor. Promise? 

More about ironing. You were holding your breath. Don't deny it. September 8, 2008 17:42

So. I promised you Sewing Secrets from the 1939 book of the same name if you were good readers. And I always keep my promises. Always. Always. Always. Almost always.

Anyway. Since you were not only good readers, you were very, very good, I’m going to share four ironing tips with you. Yup. Count ‘em. Four. Are you jittery with excitement? Perhaps even panting? I know you are. So. Without further delay (and, be warned, I paraphrase at times):

23) Steaming a Hem from Right Side in Final Pressing.  To steam out basting thread marks or any shiny spots that may show on the right side side of a hem, wring a press cloth very dry, place over the right side of the hem, then place a dry cloth on top of that (does this seem excessive to anyone but me?) and hold a hot iron over lightly over the cloth. Remove cloths quickly. (Pretend you are a magician’s assistant! Won’t that be fun? Add a little spice to  the ironing? You betcha.) Brush with a fairly stiff brush.

24) Creasing Narrow Hems with a Warm Iron. Much time may be saved by creasing narrow hems with a warm iron before sewing. When this is done, basting is not necessary. (Think of the time you’ll save!) First, turn the raw edge crossing it with the iron as you turn it, then make the second turning shown in the nifty drawing.

35) Dampening a Seam with a Brush. Before using water, test your fabric to see if water spots it. (We absolutely do not want that! No spotting allowed. None.) Most seams may be dampened on the wrong side with a brush without touching the material on each side of the seam.

36) Using a Press Cloth. Place a damp cloth over the seam. Make sure the cloth is free of starch. If pressing woolens, place a dry cloth over the seam and dampen that cloth with a sponge. Remove cloth quickly (of course!) after pressing. Remember that you press with the weight of the iron rather than by sliding the iron.  (Do not slide – we all remember this from previous lessons. Right? Right. You got it.) If the print of the seam shows through on the right side of the fabric, place strips of paper under the seam edges when pressing. (Who’d a thunk it?)

OK. Is everybody ready to iron? Give me an I. Give me an R. Give me an O. Give me an N. Shake those tom-toms. Get those boards set up and those irons plugged in. There's no time to waste. Practice. I understand it makes perfect. And there will be tests. You know it.

It's my dress. My future dress. (And my hairstyle, too.) September 6, 2008 19:45 1 Comment

Today, while thumbing through Us Weekly (a guilty pleasure that I relish with all the joy of those gooey, sticky, syrupy, cheap Brach's chocolate-covered cherries that were a tradition every Christmas of my childhood . . . yum . . . yum-squared – I’ve probably mentioned these before because I love ‘em) what did I see but a pic of lovely Reese Witherspoon wearing a dress that’s so very  similar to my first project, Simplicity 2925. The neck and shoulder detail looks the same, with the addition of a bow. (This embellishment may be overkill. But. You know how I feel about bows. They are not for me. Too girly. Too. Too. Too. You know it. But if they are your cup of tea, drink up. I won't judge you. I promise.) The silhouette, too, looks the same. Love this dress. Totally. Still. Even after all these weeks. (Or is it months? Don’t remind me. I know I am a Gold Medal procrastinator. You do not have to tell me.) I am inspired anew. Really. I am. Completely.

I did move toward sewing today. I did. I took time from counting pattern pieces in prep for the next Blue Gardenia update to buy an iron. (And groceries. Love to eat. I do. My hips proudly testify to this fact.)

So. The model at my friendly Costco was a Rowenta Professional. I know several of you, my dear and beloved readers, have said this is a good brand. Obviously, this is proof that you have earned my trust. And. I trust that Costco made the right choice when they selected this model. Sort of. Kind of. Sort of. Kind of. You get the picture.

Inspirations: A tough, cynical dress for tough, cynical times September 4, 2008 17:41 1 Comment

So. I was determined to find a dress, a suit, a coat, something that I really wanted to duplicate on my sewing machine. Not tonight. Not today. Not next week. But one day, in the future, the distant future, when my dressmaking skills are there. And they will be, one day. Because I have intent. I have resolve. I just need to clear out the clutter. In my house. In my life. In my head.

But. Back to the topic. Which is this incredible dress by Nicolas Ghesquiere for Balenciaga. It is the absolute most. The tip-top. The cream. I love the sleeves, which allow for a few missed sessions at the gym. I crave the boat neckline. It's ladylike. Tough. Cynical. Sexy. All at once. I covet the peplum detail at the waist and hip, which references my favorite era, the 1940s. I adore the slit in the skirt.  I am sold on this dress. Totally gone. Wrap it up. I will take it.

And that is saying something, because, as you know, I am not one for modern fashion. I am fond of things vintage. Very.

Of course, this dress doesn’t really fit my small-town lifestyle. It doesn’t. So easy to be a fashion slug in a small town. A regular sloth. Deep sigh. Heavy sigh.

Still. I can dream. Can’t I? The ubiquitous they says so. And they wouldn’t try to fool me. Would they?

(And while I'm dreaming, I want to be a cock-eyed optimist, a Nellie Forbush in my next life. If there is such a thing.)

His Bertness sweats. Emma licks the camera lens. Life is perfect. September 1, 2008 19:43 2 Comments

So. Recall when I complained about bloggers with camera-ready lives? Perfect houses, perfect pets, perfect living rooms, perfect hubbies, perfect selves, etc. I know you do. How could you forget one teeny word from my lips? One minute detail of my life? Of course you couldn’t. Of course. And if you can, don't tell me. Let me live in denial. It will be my warm winter cloak.

Well. Naturally. I thought to myself: Stop complaining. Take action. Do something. Something. Now. But what? I don’t want to battle dust bunnies. They can be so unruly. They can. They defy me. And spider webs are art. Right? But there must be something. Some little thing that I can do to improve my life. But what? I puzzled. I pondered. And I decided the first step is to clear out clutter. Yep. You know. The journey of a million miles begins with a single step. Just one. Or something like that.


So. The first step. Moving many boxes of books, books that have lived contentedly in their boxes since we moved here nearly ten years ago, to our storage unit. This involved more work for Bert than for me. He sherpa’d. I took pictures of his toting and sweating. You can see he was less than amused by this division of labor. He looks downright crabby. But. What can I say? Taking photographs is hard work. Really. Getting the composition just right. The lighting. And the camera is heavy. Ummm hmm. My biceps feel firmer already. They do. I can feel them bulging.

Oh. That is our trusty steed, the Bronco II, in the foreground. A wedding gift from my parents. After all these years, I still love it. Smarmy hearts and butterflies alert: After all these years, I still love His Bertness, too. Perhaps even more now than on our wedding day. (Are you gagging now? I'm sorry. Or maybe you need a box of Puffs? I have plenty. I will share.)

I also had to keep our little canine friends away from the door. And from licking the lens. That’s Emma. Beloved and beautiful Malamute. She gets up early every day to put on her eye liner. Very influenced by Liz as Cleopatra. This pic does not show her gorgeous looks to their advantage. Oh well. Maybe next time.

And this is Henry Jones. Half Lab, half Great Dane, all attitude. If he were a dancer, his favorite dance would be the paso doble. (And, yes, that is my muslin in the background. Alone. But not forgotten. Rarely a day goes by that I don't think of it.) Isn't Henry handsome? He's the most. Just ask him.

And, of course, sewing intervened. In a way. We found this treasure in one box. It’s from 1939. If you’re good readers — very, very good — I’ll share some secrets with you. The tips are worth the sacrifice. There's more information about pressing. And ironing. Is that thrilling? Your hearts are beating faster in anticipation. Right? Say yes. Yes. It's the right answer.

Oh, my heart: It pulses with gratitude for the steamy details. August 29, 2008 18:31 1 Comment

Don't gag, but my heart is brimming with gratitude today. Absolutely. Guess why. Not the usual suspects: coffee, rain, the pups, His Bertness. Though, I am, natch, very grateful for each one. Of course.
And no laughing — oh, go ahead, laugh if you must — but I am ever so grateful that I now know the difference between ironing and pressing (see Scintillating details, etc. http://thebluegardenia.typepad.com/the_diary_of_the_blue_gar/2008/08/scintillating-d.html), because tomorrow — feeble drum roll, please — I'll be pressing my curtains. Truly. Boring though it may seem.
The ever-so-domestic act is prep for stitching that oft-heard about fine seam.
You remember the curtains. Right? For the bathroom windows? The bathroom with the leaky roof above it?
Anyway. The fabric is a crinkled silk (or maybe it's polyester), and I do not want to iron out the crinkles. Not under any circumstances. No way. No how. The wrinkles are bee-yoo-tee-ful. In the extreme.
So. Fingers crossed. I'll letcha know how it goes. Promise.