Baby, it's cold outside . . . January 16, 2013 10:50 2 Comments

but, alas, you can't stay inside by the fire, listening to Johnny Mercer and Margaret Whiting. No. You have errands to run. Lots of them: Costco, Petco, Whole Foods. But you will be snug and toasty warm: jeans over tights, that fabulous cashmere sweater that your beloved wrapped up so nicely for you at Christmas, and your new coat, made from Simplicity 1278. You've made the version with the double row of buttons. You used a bee-yoo-tee-ful and oh-so-forties inspired alpaca blend herringbone from Gorgeous Fabrics. With the scarf and hat you knitted in November, you won't have to worry one bit about that chill wind blowing.

The details: Simplicity 1278 Coats Bust 34 Complete Copyright 1944 $35

So. Rush over to The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free, and snap up this lovely. (We happily ship abroad, of course, although there is a fee, less than the postal service charges us. You may choose Global Priority or Global Express. We love them both. We do.) And we take American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa. And cold, hard cash. Anything to make you happy, dears. Anything. Almost.

Channeling Catherine: Timeless face. Timeless coat. February 9, 2012 02:28 2 Comments

Mesmerizing beauty: Undeniable.

Creamy double-breasted coat: Timeless.

Pour La Victoire Bre Black flat, $190 at Endless.com: Elegant.

Vogue Paris Original 1675 Designed by Yves Saint Laurent, $57 at The Blue Gardenia: Time-saver.

Calling all customers: May I share your vintage pattern story? September 24, 2011 06:57

As many of you know, I requested your input. I practically begged. Pleaded. Beseeched. One suggestion that came through loud, clear: Feature patterns on this blog that were purchased at The Blue Gardenia. Patterns actually stitched by customers. Patterns that have gone from dreams into reality.

I like this idea. I really, really do. So. If you would be kind enough to participate, let me know. I'll send you a brief questionnaire. And, of course, I'll need a picture. Or two.

And if you haven't shared your opinion, do. And enter our giveaway. The deadline draws near.

Shameless plug: Evening gown extravaganza. Day dress drama. June 6, 2011 10:29 3 Comments

There. Some alliteration. I know. Dreadful. Cheap. But amusing to the easily amused. And that would be me. Sometimes.

Anyway. It's that time again, dearest readers. Yep. We've added more vintage patterns. More! We have. And this time, we've really outdone ourselves. (In my most humble opinion, that is.)

You'll find additions in all decade categories, as well as Lingerie, Bridal, Accessories and Aprons. Lots. Lots of stunning and pretty and smart vintage styles. Advance Imports. Vogue Couturier Designs. Vogue Paris Originals. Spadea. Even a 1940s coverall fit for Rosie the Riveter. And on. And on. Wow! Wow. (If I do say so my very own self.) A few highlights, if you'll indulge me — and yourselves, too, of course. Because this fashion show is truly a visual feast. Absolutely. Even if you don't make a purchase. But. Naturally, I want you to purchase and purchase and purchase and purchase . . . you get my drift. 

It's a chilly evening. It is. Even though it's June, the winds are brisk and cool. But you must go out tonight. A formal affair. Aren't you glad you whipped up Butterick 1240 in May? You are. The dress is stunning. The drapery so elegant. So very. And it has that beautiful jacket. It does. The details: Evening gown and jacket. Bust 38. Complete except for back facing. $125. 

You have a charity event in July. A ball. You want to look elegant. Beautiful. Absolutely. Very Ingrid Bergman in Indiscreet. What better choice than Vogue Couturier Design 771?  Yards of chiffon or marquisette. Yards. More than thirteen. 13 5/8, to be exact. The details: Evening dresses. Size missing, but most likely bust 32 or 36. Complete; skirt piece divided into two pieces. Copyright 1953. $75.

And then there's the ballroom dance in August. Again, formal. And you want to look sensational. Sexy. Vogue Couturier Design 773, with its saucy bolero and haute couture gown, is the perfect ensemble. With their first glance at you, all the men in the room will be as stunned as if you had Tazed then. You love the style. And you'll love its affects. The details: Evening dress and bolero. Bust 32. Complete except for easily duplicated skirt stiffening. Copyright 1953. $150.

And for a more comfortable evening at home, wear McCall 3817.  If I were the bossy sort, I would insist. I would. Perfect dinner party attire: It's feminine. Subtle. Dare I say it: Ladylike. You love this one. You do. Especially the long, full sleeves. Details, details, details: Evening dresses. Bust 38. Still in factory folds. Copyright 1940. $150.

And for your mod moments — drat, alliteration again — try Vogue Couturier Design 1680. A Belinda Bellvlle design.  It's sleek. It's yummy. And it has pockets! You can pack your lipstick and ID inside. No need to carry an evening bag. None at all. How cool is that? Very. Very. Very. The details: Evening dress designed by Belinda Bellville. Bust 31. Complete. $125.

And there's more. Much. So many designers. Even a 1950s Trigere and Givenchy. So glamorous. So hard to find.

So. Rush over to The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (We happily ship abroad, of course, although there is a fee, less than the postal service charges us. You may choose Global Priority or Global Express. We love them both. We do.) And we take American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa. And cold, hard cash. Anything to make you happy, dears. Anything. Almost.

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.

Learning to sew: Meet my new project, a "Mad Men" pencil skirt June 23, 2010 17:27

And the winner is . . . loud beating of drums and clashing of cymbals . . . the waist 30. It is, as you may remember, dear readers, 1/2" too small in the waist, but it fits perfectly in the hips. The pattern is McCall 5082, copyright 1959. It's a staple. Truly. If I do a good job, this is a skirt I'll wear again. And again. And again. And again. You get the picture. 

The fabric I've chosen is black cotton-linen with the tiniest bit of stretch. I've had it for many years. I love it. I do. Absolutely. I confess my heart beats a little fast at the thought that I might ruin it. Do any of you ever have that fear when cutting into a beloved piece of fabric? Nightmares abound. 

I especially want to work on my hand-hemming technique this time around. The exterior looked terrific in the Asian skirt. Not so the inside. Alas. And, of course, there's the zipper. Oh my. Doubtless you remember, dearly beloved readers, the mess I made of the centered zipper on the sewing machine in the Asian skirt. I do. How can I forget when I see it each time I wear the skirt. Heavy sigh. Dramatic sigh. I'm going to do a side-lapped zipper this time, and I think I'll do it by hand. Any advice?

So. I've laundered the fabric. Twice. Next, pressing. Then, gulp, cutting. Fingers crossed.

Learning to sew: The Asian skirt is finished . . . June 18, 2010 15:53 6 Comments

And tomorrow, I promise, I will put on makeup. And shoes. And model it for you. However, today, I am lazy. Enervated. After all, I have been hemming. And pressing. And grocery shopping. A woman has to eat. Right? 

So. I ask your advice about the size pattern I should choose for my next project, McCall 5082, copyright 1959. When I measured my waist, I found a surprising benefit of my dedication to Pilates: a loss of 3 1/2". Delicious. Yes. Excellent. Absolutely. Of course, I do not have a pattern that fits perfectly. I can choose a pattern 1/2" too small or 1 1/2" too large. Dear readers, dear sewists, what should I do?  The 30" waist size fits perfectly in the hips. Should I go right? Or left? Up or down? Oh, the quandary. I await your replies. I await your advice.

And tomorrow, I'll post pictures of the Asian skirt. Up close. Personal. Every flaw revealed. Can you stand it? I hope so.

A one-shoulder playsuit with a wrap skirt. Can life get any better? June 7, 2010 15:10

It's sweltering outside. The thermometer outside your kitchen window rose to 93. 93! And that is in the shade. Aren't you happy you stitched up Vogue 5283, circa 1960s, this weekend? You're delighted, actually. It's sassy. It's sexy. It's cool. Just the attire for your summer vacation. And if you decide to go into town tonight for dinner, you have only to throw on the handy wrap skirt and some coral lipstick, and you are set. Wow. Sewing is grand. It is. Absolutely.

And, yes, this pattern can be yours. Just drop by The Blue Gardenia.

Dinner with friends, and you felt fine in your 1930s dress. June 6, 2010 11:09

 
You sit on the sofa, feet tucked beneath you, and ponder the evening. A success. Truly. Excellent company. Articulate. Kind. With an ample and intelligent sense of humor. Delicious food. The grilled salmon salad was worthy of a five-star restaurant. Beloved hubby outdid himself. The table was beautiful. You chose Venture china from the 1960s. Sleek. Modern. Black and ivory. Matching stemware. Gossamer sterling. Sarah Vaughan and Bill Evans on the stereo. And you did not have to fret over your dress. You looked good — well, perhaps even beyond good, to be immodest – in

Available at The Blue Gardenia. Of course. 

The perfect dress for coffee with friends. June 2, 2010 09:48 3 Comments

There was a time when I dressed for work each day. I donned a sharp suit,  a smart dress, cloying pantyhose and sassy 4-inch heels, and I went to the office. No longer. I work at home now. And I live in a very casual town, a town where onlookers do not frown at me if I wear my yoga clothes (bless you, Lycra) to Costco.

But I have aspirations, aspirations to look stylish once more. I do. So. So. Heavy sigh. I also don't want to buy clothes made in China or Taiwan. I'm old enough to remember those "Look for the union label" commercials". They left a mark on this formerly impressionable kid. They did.

But, to be frank — and you know I generally am —  my budget (heavy, drawn out sigh) does not allow clothes made in the USA, assuming my local Dillard's even stocked them. (And, alas, a recent research trip there did not reveal a single garment made here in the good ole US of A.) So. What's a woman to do? 

Well. Learn to sew. Of course. (And I promise I will entwine both of these narratives. Eventually. Really.) We all know, dear readers, that I have had commitment issues with adding sewing to my skill set. I have. But. I am nearly finished with my Asian skirt. Nearly. I have only to hem it and to put a fastener at the waist. I am so close. So very. And so, much-appreciated readers, this is where you come in. I pledge to finish this skirt by week's end. I do. Hold me to it.

So. Back to my other train of thought. You knew I'd get back on that train, didn't you? You did. And see? I reward your patience. What would I sew to wear to Costco? Something comfortable. Something attractive. Something that did not involve capris or a knit top. So. What? My choice: Simplicity 3846, copyright 1952. It's cool. Pretty. Yet it would not draw stares and whispered behind-the-hand comments from other Costco shoppers.

And, natch, this lovely number is available at The Blue Gardenia. You'll need it this summer for lunches with girlfriends. For casual suppers with that ever-so-special someone. For the supermarket!

Oh, and do check Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing. She has a feature on yours truly. Read it here. And if you're not already a fan, you'll become one. She's a must-read if you sew. Or want to.

Shameless plug: Are you a Joan Harris or a Mildred Pierce? May 26, 2010 18:36

Simplicity Slenderette 4181: Look smashing while you recuperate May 16, 2010 15:19

Darn. Your arm is in a sling. You just want to stay in bed. You just want to eat Terra Nostra Satin Milk Truffle Bars and read Lawrence Block novels. You just want to hibernate until you have completely recuperated. But. Alas. That is not an option. There are things to do. Places to go. Grants to write. Friends to meet for coffee. So. What to wear? What? What will be comfortable with the sling but yet look good? What will be easy to maneuver — ahhhhemmm, how to put this in a delicate, ladylike fashion that will not make you, dear readers, blush — on those oh-so-unavoidable trips to the women's room? Not pants. No way. But a skirt. Not too full. Not too slim. Simplicity 4181. Yes. This is the perfect choice. Absolutely. And it will be quite fetching as well when you have mended.

And it is available — yes, indeedy — at The Blue Gardenia. The details: Bust 41, complete, and yours for a mere $33. Don't delay. I beg you.

Is gingham age-appropriate if you're older than 6? May 15, 2010 14:03 3 Comments

I have been thinking about gingham lately. It's fresh. It's innocent. It says spring. I particularly love Christopher Kane's fluid gingham dress. 

But — and this is a big one, perhaps — can a fiftysomething get away with gingham?

I personally have not worn gingham since I was knee high to a grasshopper. It simply was not me. I was not an ingenue. I was not girly. I was not innocent. I didn't wear gingham when I was nineteen. But I find myself drawn to this dress. 

And, naturally, I found myself searching through The Blue Gardenia pattern archives looking for the perfect gingham dress. A dress that a fifty-two-year old could wear and not look silly. Or ridiculous. And I found McCall 8082, copyright 1950. One could make this in gingham. And one could wear it to a picnic. A cafe. A garden party. And one would not look ridiculous. One would not be a laughingstock. One would look chic. Sophisticated. Yet comfortable. Don't you agree?

And, of course, you may add this fetching pattern to your own stash. It's available for sale at The Blue Gardenia. Bust 32. I find it irresistible. Totally. Completely. Alas, is it in my size? No. Am I a skilled enough seamstress to enlarge it? No. So. Pass the Puffs, please. I need to dry my tears.

Asian skirt's almost done. Shall I sew a Betty Draper top next? May 6, 2010 18:38

A quick-and-easy post tonight, boys and girls, about a quick-and-easy pattern. Or at least a pattern that promises it is simple to make. And we know that no pattern comany would lie. They wouldn't. Know why? Because that would be quite a mean trick  to play on beginning seamstresses like myself. A trick that might make us run from our sewing machines in frustration, straight into the cool and comforting arms of our fridges, and then right to the racks of ready-to-wear garments at the mall. After, of course, a consoling high calorie treat. Or two.

As you know, I am almost finished with my skirt. I have only to hem it. So, after hours of searching The Blue Gardenia's endless archives, I found this classy number, Simplicity 3916. Very Laura Petrie. Very Betty Draper. And, of course, simple to make. That, perhaps, is what I found most alluring. Most.

Now, if you want to make the blouse along with me, this pattern is available at  The Blue Gardenia.

The details, in case you want to know – and of course you do  – are thus:  Skirt, Blouse, Midriff Top and Shorts Bust 36 Complete $22.

So, rush on over, snap this up, and together we'll stitch, stitch, stitch. I'm thinking linen for mine. Maybe red. Or maybe aqua cotton. That would look scrumptious with the Asian skirt. Mmmmm . . . decisions. I'll feature the lucky purchaser's version and mine in the blog. Wonder who'll finish their blouse first? Could it be me? Well. Miracles do happen. Or so I've heard.

The fun you'll have in these dresses and coveralls. Absolutely. April 8, 2010 19:47

Oh. What a weekend you have planned. Vegas? No. Istanbul? Nuh uh.  San Carlos de Bariloche? Hardly. You are staying in town. Here. But you're going to have fun anyway.

First, Saturday. A day of gardening. Tilling the soil. Planting the lantana. Fertilizing the roses. Spreading the mulch. And you'll be wearing McCall 8520, copyright 1951. With a big floppy straw hat and your gloves. Are you the American Beauty or is your rose? Why can't you both be? You can. I said so.

And then there's Saturday night. Yes indeed. And you have plans. Yes, ma'am, you most certainly do. Dinner at a discreet bistro, where you will be wearing the fruits of last weekend's labor. McCall 3727. You'll keep your bolero on over the steak frites and the creme brulee. But afterward. Mmmm mmmm mmmm. The real fun begins on the dance floor at the Kenny Wayne Sheppard show. No bolero, at least not of the clothing variety. And then . . . well, there's no need to share all your plans for the evening, is there? You don't kiss and tell. You don't. You won't. Absolutely not.

Sunday, church. Can't miss what Rev. Tom has to say. And you're meeting your gal pals for lunch. The weather will be perfect. And is there a better dress for sunny days than Donna Karan's 1990 design, Vogue American Designer 2470? There's not. Trust me. Please. This is the ultimate dress for patio dining. It is.

So. You can see there is no need for a pricey airplane ticket and a costly hotel. None. You can stay home and save. You frugalista, you. And, yes. All patterns are available at The Blue Gardenia.

A warm, toasty thank you to Gabriella . . . April 1, 2010 16:02 1 Comment

I have been sewing, too. And perhaps I will blog about that tomorrow. You're frothing at the mouth in excitement at the thought of seeing my Asian skirt. Right?

In the meantime, scurry on over to see Gabriella's latest project.

And because I am not above a little shameless promotion of The Blue Gardenia, wouldn't Gabriella look fabulous in Vogue Special Design S-4887 from the 1940s? It converts from sleeveless to sleeves in a jiffy. How rare is that?

Storm the fashion podium with a clone of Michelle's dress February 27, 2010 06:43

Did you totally swoon over Michelle Obama's State of the Union dress? This little fashionista did. His Bertness had to find the smelling salts to revive me. 

If you loved the dress — designed by Isaac Mizrahi, by the way — then duplicate it with Very Easy Very Vogue 8385. It has the stretch knit top just like Michelle's. The pleated skirt. My only suggestion: Ditch the necklace and choose something bolder. No need to play it safe, girl. The fashion podium awaits. And, yes, this pattern is available at The Blue Gardenia. Yes, indeedy.

Is it time to release your inner Jean Harlow? It is indeed. January 31, 2010 08:19 4 Comments

You've looked high. You've looked low. Neiman Marcus. Saks. That sweet little boutique around the corner. You've done it all. You've practically worn a hole in the soles of your red leather Evins pumps. Still, other than a box of pralines and a loaf of French sourdough, you are empty-handed. (Well, you deserve a treat after all this walking, all this frustration, don't you? Yes. Of course you do. Bread and butter, then pralines for dessert. Yum.)

Wait. An idea. Why not make something? After all, you do know how to sew. Well, you did. Once. Your momma taught you way back when. It's like riding a bike, isn't it? Isn't it? You have Aunt Nedra's machine. Somewhere. Probably in the back of the guest room closet. Yes. That's where it is. You have a vague memory of stuffing it there, along with a box of her quilting supplies.

And this is one of those occasions. Worth the extra effort. Important. A party. Yes, you hate them. But it's for him. And you'll be meeting his friends. And since you're socially inept — no need to lie to yourself about your flaws — you want to look good. Great. Over the moon. Look good, keep your mouth shut, stifle that tendency to talk too much when you're nervous.

Simplicity 1971 — circa the 1930s, your favorite fashion era — is perfect. It will be slinky, sexy, yet comfortable. The style will show off your shoulders and your back. Add your bakelite bangles, and you will stun. Absolutely. But you won't look like you're trying too hard.

Yes. This is the one. It is. You'll find it at The Blue Gardenia.

Is he the one? Mmmmm. Probably not. But he does get your motor running. For now.

The perfect skirt for when the evening sun is sinking low January 9, 2010 14:45 1 Comment

The room is dark. The stove light seeps through the crack in the door. You are in his arms. Held tight. You sway. Back and forth. Right and left. Slowly. This is not a rumba. This is not a foxtrot. This is not a waltz. This is the grind. Plain. Simple. Sexy. The same one your best girlfriend Yvette taught you in junior high. This is not junior high. He is not your best girlfriend. Far from it. Oh so.

You feel the ash floor underneath your feet. You kicked off your shoes long ago. Your stockings make no sound as you move. The taffeta of your full skirt rustles. You do not hear. You don't. You are lost in the music. You hear only Sam and his band.  It might be one o'clock and it might be three. Time don't mean that much to me.  I ain't felt this good since I don't know when and I might not feel this good again.

Your hand is strong in his. Firm. Equal. You can do this all night. All night. Keep those Sam Cooke records playing. Yeah.

Yeah.

Hurry, scurry: Our once-a-year sale ends in mere hours! January 7, 2010 06:59

I'm tired. Lazy. Sluggish. Peanut butter on toast failed to work its energy magic today. Nonetheless, dear readers, here I sit, trying to find a creative way to say that the countdown has begun for The Blue Gardenia's once-a-year sale. 

So. I think I will let this gorgeous 1940s evening gown, Butterick 3625, do the talking — and selling — for me. Work hard, lovely pattern, work hard. Please.

Here are the sale details. And you'll note it ends tonight. Tonight! Buy 3 or more items, get 33% off. Sale prices are good through midnight PST today, January 7. All payments must be in my eager paws by January 9, 2010. As always, TBG takes American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, non-rubber checks and cold, hard cash. And you are all smart cookies, so you know to shop now. Time's wasting.

Textbook attire for teaching His Bertness to bake bread January 3, 2010 07:09

I, dear readers, have spent the morning and early afternoon teaching His Bertness to bake. Paul Prudhomme's Honey Bread, if I may add the details. And I may, correct? Because you want to know all the details of my ever-so-exciting small town life. Right? What a resounding and enthusiastic chorus of ayes. I'm pleased. I'm impressed. Absolutely.

Now, to really play the part of the small town baker, I should be wearing a fetching frock like Simplicity 2838, copyright 1948. It's a wrap dress - yep, decades before DVF - and it looks quite comfy. Perhaps not as comfortable as the yoga capris and top I am wearing as I write this post, but then, really, what is?

And please allow me to step up to the podium to extend a thank you to Shannon, she of the well-groomed fingernails and the blog I can't stop reading, Hungry Zombie Couture. Shannon wrote a fabulous post about some patterns she purchased at The Blue Gardenia. I know you'll want to see what she bought. Excellent taste has she. She has my vote for the best-dressed teacher in Canada. Absolutely.

And don't forget to stop by and check out our once-a-year sale. The skinny:  Buy 3 or more items, get 33% off. Sale prices are good now, this minute, through midnight PST Thursday, January 7. All payments must be in my eager paws by January 9, 2010. As always, TBG takes American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, non-rubber checks and cold, hard cash.

I will contain my gratitude no longer. I won't. I won't. I won't. January 1, 2010 07:27 1 Comment

I am taking a moment from teaching His Bertness to make chili to issue a most heartfelt thank you to a few folks. I am. So, listen up.

First up: Carolyn Norman, whose blog Dairy of a Sewing Fanatic has long been a favorite. Thank you so very much, Carolyn, for the post about The Blue Gardenia. It has brought so many new customers, and I hope all will join our roster of regulars.

Ditto to Gretchen, of Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing. Her blog is a new addiction, and for all of you out there: I want that book! I do. I do. I do. Namely Vogue's New Book for Better Sewing.

And I am also ever so pleased and grateful that Oliver + S listed The Blue Gardenia as something that should always be hanging above everyone's sewing machine. Wow! Thank you! That makes me so very happy. Yes indeedy.

Further, while this attitude of gratitude is swelling to bursting point, I'd like to thank Vicki at Yavapai Regional Medical Center, who went above and beyond to handle an insurance issue for me. Unasked. She volunteered! This week. A holiday week.

And I'd also like to thank my parents and my in-laws for being there this year. And His Bertness for learning to cook because sometimes I am just too tired to whip up tasty vittles. Love that cheerful, willing attitude, honey bunch. Yes, I do.

So. There ya go. Thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU! (Yes, my voice is  raised in appreciation.)

And just so I'll have art, how about gear for cooking chili? Simplicity 3382, Bust 42, copyright 1950, $33 at The Blue Gardenia, will have you looking as good as the chili will taste.

Oh, and thank you, Michael Buble, for covering Baby (You've Got What It Takes). Still like the Brook and Dinah version best, but your cover with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings is not shabby. Not at all.

Gee. I feel like I should be standing behind a microphone, clad in a tight, shimmery evening gown. Vintage, of course.

So. Happy 2010, everyone. I hope it's your very best ever. Ever. Absolutely. (Until 2011 anyway.)

For that Mildred Pierce moment: Modes Royale 336 December 29, 2009 12:59

Ahhh, New Year's Eve. You have to work. A busy day. Tight end-of-year deadlines with absolutely no room for wiggling. You'll have to rush straight from the office to dinner with your honey bunch. That is the only way. But. What to wear? That is today's question. There must be something that says both business and beauty. Something. But what?

Perhaps Modes Royale 336, circa 1940s. Don't-mess-with-me shoulders. Sassy pleats. A hide-anything pocket with a button. A button!  Big enough for a lipstick, a pen and a notepad. Love it. Yep. This is the one. Perfection. Absolutely.

Shameless plug: Motor running? Our once-a-year sale starts now! December 26, 2009 16:26

Just this once, I won't waste your time with needless words. Really. I promise. Brief. To the point. That's me at this moment. So. Intro over, here you go: It's time for The Blue Gardenia's once-a-year sale. The lowdown: Buy 3 or more items, get 33% off. Sale prices are good now, this minute, through midnight PST Thursday, January 7. All payments must be in my eager paws by January 9, 2010. As always, TBG takes American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, non-rubber checks and cold, hard cash. And you are all smart cookies, so you know to shop early for the best selection. Like now, this moment. Or this oh-so-mod, oh-so-Shrimpton Pierre Cardin number will be gone. Scurry. Hurry.