Channeling Catherine: Peel me some grapes, she commanded. July 20, 2010 11:18

Serene, commanding, penetrating gaze: Necessary.

Tassel necklace: Facsimile.

Luxurious divan: Comfortable.

Vogue Paris Original 1553, designed by Dior: Evocative.

Learning to sew: In which more than my skirt goes mad! July 19, 2010 09:05 1 Comment

Marticia lost patience with me, because I was taking pictures rather than pulling the thread to get the fabric on grain. Well, duh. I'm a blogger. I have to take pictures. I have to, beloved readers, for you. So that you can view my progress. So that you can be with me as I take baby steps along this path. I'm so unselfish. Really.

Now. Because you read the headline or title or whatever it is we call the words that go across the blog story to draw you, dear readers, in, you are probably wondering why something — namely, me — was driven mad by this skirt. Well. Here ya go. The reason: The fabric stretch did not go horizontally around my hips. No. It went lengthwise. I do not need a lengthwise stretch. I don't. I don't. I need it around my butt. Otherwise, how will the fabric puff out into an unflattering ball in my buns area? Obviously, I needed a new fabric. Absolutely.  I did not want to waste the Lycra in my yummilicious linen-cotton blend.

So. Marticia to the rescue. Again. She put on her cape. She put on her boots. And she went to her fabric stash. And . . . and . . . drumroll, please . . . she worked her superpower magic and pulled out a piece of jade wool blend. Which just happened to be the right size for my skirt. Yippee skippee. So. It is now cut out. I have only to pull out the tracing paper and the tracing wheel and mark, mark, mark the many darts. Then I'll be ready to sew my Mad Men pencil skirt. I will. Double cartwheels to celebrate. Please.

How casual is too casual at the farmers market? You decide. July 18, 2010 12:32 6 Comments

Yesterday, His Bertness and I went to the farmers market. Yep, the one right here in Prescott, AZ. It was hot. Almost 100. But. We needed radishes. And lettuce. And rose-gold potatoes.

I'm not going to be snarky today. I'm not. It's Sunday. So. I shall let you decide if the pictured were too casual. Or not.

These pooches won the Cuteness Award. Absolutely. That's why they get two pictures. 

Note her purse. Animal prints are always winners. (Unless, of course, they are real fur. I said I wasn't  being snarky. I didn't say anything about suspending my judgment. Did I?)

I'm being nice. Really. And I'm sure you've noticed there are no photographs of me. I'm so modest. I didn't want to outshine everyone in my perfect farmers market casual attire. But. Trust me. I looked good. Absolutely. (And I hope no one took my photo. I'd hate to be exposed as a dishonest woman.)

Channeling Catherine: Hand over the pencil skirt. Or else. July 14, 2010 20:01 3 Comments

Being held at gunpoint: Undesirable.

Helmut Newton behind the camera: Fantasy.

Gorgeous Fabrics red plaid stretch cotton:   Facsimile.

Simplicity 2196, copyright 1957: Handy.

He'll always remember the way you look tonight. July 13, 2010 20:10 2 Comments

There you are, standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for the pianist to start playing The Way You Look Tonight so that you can begin that long walk. No Bridal Chorus for you. Been there, done that, won't do that again. You have bowed to tradition in some ways, though. The church. The gown. The wedding ring. Not white this time. A beautiful silvery gray satin for the dress. Silvery gray lace for the bolero and train. Advance 3539, circa 1960s. Elegant. Regal. You know you look lovely. Why be modest? Why be insecure?

There. The first notes. You swallow. You move one foot forward. The other. Slowly. Tentatively. After all, this is huge. Huge. You've lived alone for years. You've grown set in your ways. And the first marriage wasn't exactly a fairy tale. But then your eyes meet his. Your heart flips. Skips. Just like it did the first time you saw him, smiling at you across the crowded airport. He is the one. You are the one. You know it. Your next step is strong. Sure. It does not waver.

And, of course, this gorgeous vintage pattern is available at  The Blue Gardenia.  I wouldn't tease you. I wouldn't. And we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you. So do drop by. We're waiting for you.

That Touch of Fashion: A sentimental yet strong Doris Day look. July 10, 2010 10:21 2 Comments

  "I want to wear beautiful clothes and look pretty." So said Doris Day. And is there a prettier look than this lovely scallop blouse, McCall's 8929, copyright 1952?

It captures Her Dorisness perfectly. Spot on. Truly.  Just add the don't-mess-with-me gloves and the feminine-as-a-perfume-bottle pillbox hat, and you are there. Be sure to put Latin for Lovers on the CD when you wear this blouse for full effect. Or maybe Sentimental Journey if you're in an extremely sappy mood. You decide.

If you want to make this ensemble complete,  then you'll want to snap up McCall's 8725, copyright 1950. A bargain at $18. Can you say no? Of course not. Because you want to make me gleeful. Don't you? That's your goal in life. Right?

And, yep, these patterns are indeed available at  The Blue Gardenia. You knew that was coming, didn't you? Well, I have bills to pay. And a hubby out of work. So. Naturally, I hope you cannot live without this pattern. Tell me you can't. OK? Make my day. 

In fact, make my day a very happy one, and go on a shopping spree at The Blue Gardenia. Por favor, if I may quote the beautiful, independent and kind Ms. Day.

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.

Channeling Catherine: It's a nice day for a white wedding. July 8, 2010 09:40 2 Comments

White wedding: Old-fashioned.

Bobbi Brown Salmon Lip Color: Perfect.

Simplicity 7389, copyright 1976: Beneficial.

Flowers: Achoo!

From frying the eggs at 6 to dinner at 8, we've got your number. July 7, 2010 18:37

It's that time again, dear readers, that time you've been waiting for breathlessly. Yes. We've been working so hard to bring you another fabulous update. We've been counting. We've been archiving. We've been scanning. All for you. Have we made you happy? Say we have. Say all the work has been worth it. Do.

Here are just a few of the delicious patterns we've just added to The Blue Gardenia.

 Aprons

Anne Adams Original 4917 is your idea of a picture-perfect farmhouse apron. There you are scrambling eggs, buttering toast, frying bacon. There he is, throwing food to the chickens. Your imagination is a little fuzzy here — you're not quite sure what chickens eat. But. Oh, well. They're chirping and squawking and doing whatever it is chickens do. Besides laying eggs, that is. It's a pleasant fantasy anyway. Let the farmer fill in the details.

1930s

Ahh, Simplicity 1937. The dress for dinner in town next Saturday night. Two wonderful views. Both so stylish. Both with such unusual details. But you will choose View 2, you think. Yes. Definitely. In 4-ply silk faille the color of the Arizona sky at midday. Blue and cloudless. You adore this pattern. So very much. The graceful drape of the jabot. The sleeves you could hide a puppy in. You will be the talk of the town. Truly. You will. You know it. 

1950s

You can already see yourself in Vogue Couturier Design 967, copyright 1957. Such an arresting rear view. Such a beautiful neckline. Silk shantung, you think. Fuschia. Or emerald. Maybe linen pique in . . . mmmm . . . canteloupe? Perhaps. It looks good against your skin. It does. And it's not a color you see coming and going. Oh, well. You can work out the color and fabrication later. But you know without a doubt that this is just the style for the theater. All eyes will be on you. Pity the poor actors. Do. For no one will be looking at them. No one.

1960s

You will wear Vogue Couturier Design  2204, designed by Valentino, for your annual review. It's coming up in two weeks. Ugh. You hate them. So boring. And what to wear. That is the question.   It's too hot for a suit, what with these 100-plus degree days. And a suit can be so formal, so intimidating. That's not the mood you want to strike. No. Not at all. You want to evoke confidence. Competence. Calm. Cool. All that. You can handle any deadline. Easily. The boss knows it. And so do you.

Channeling Catherine: Be moody. Be sexy. Be relevant. July 6, 2010 20:43

Lost in stubborn-memories-that-won't-fade attitude: Necessary.  

Fur throw: Replaceable.

Wolford thigh-highs: Sexy.

Simplicity 7069, copyright 1975: Helpful.

Channeling Catherine: Will the phone never stop ringing? July 1, 2010 18:33

Enemy telephone: Relentless.

Simply beautiful eyelet, white, of course, Gorgeous Fabrics : Necessary.

Paranoia: Undesirable.

The bag is packed. The canine pals are kenneled. The jet leaves . . . June 30, 2010 17:06

Ahhh . . . you have waited all year for this moment, for this vacation. Hours and hours and hours of slogging through stacks and stacks and stacks of paperwork. Weeks and weeks and weeks of dealing with your temperamental boss. Thank goodness she went on maternity leave for three months. If only she had decided to stay home with little wee bit . . . but oh well oh well oh well . . . at least you have a job. And at least you have a glorious week of vacation. A week of sitting by Moraine Lake in your peachy play clothes made by your very own meticulously manicured hands. And the first thing, the very first thing, you'll don after you land is Simplicity 1747, circa 1930s. Just the ensemble for your two favorite R's: reading and reclining. And there's the skirt, so handy if it gets a little chilly. Oh, what a pleasure it will be to loaf. To loaf! The biggest decision you'll face is which book to read first. Life is grand.

And if you want this luscious playsemble for your getaway, scurry on over to The Blue Gardenia. 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. Actually, we take warm soft cash, too. We are so agreeable.

How casual is too casual? June 29, 2010 11:07 6 Comments

Imagine this dress with spaghetti straps. Push your imagination a little farther. Imagine the spaghetti straps tied in little bows right at the top of the shoulders. Imagine the length a little longer, the hem falling right underneath the knees. Relax. Go deeper into the fantasy. Imagine this dress on a woman in her late 50s. Imagine her wearing this get-up at church. She is attractive. Yes. She is. She sashays when she walks. Her hips swing back and forth. Absolutely.

But. You knew one was coming. Didn't you?

Am I being harsh when I say that this dress is totally inappropriate for church? Am I? Now, it would look adorable on a child. And I could even see it on a 5-year-old at Sunday school. I wouldn't think twice. I would not frown. But on a woman? No. Absolutely not. It's too casual for a grown-up girl to wear to a house of worship. Way, too. Way.

Now. At this same church service - last Sunday, to be precise - someone else was wearing jeans. Ratty jeans. Not pressed and spiffy trouser jeans. No. These were ranch jeans. Suitable for riding horses or roping cows or whatever it is they do on ranches. And these were not just any folks, these two. No. These were ushers. Ushers! Walking down the aisles and collecting money for the deity.

I'm not taking on the ranch hand garb. I'm not. Maybe the cowhand found out at the last minute he didn't have to muck out the stalls and was therefore free to saddle up the pick-up truck and head into town for church. But I will take on the woman. She's at church every Sunday. I know her. She always has her makeup on just so. She always wears heels that reach to heaven. And she often wears clothes more suitable for a picnic or a hootenanny than church. And they are often more suitable for  a teenager.

I would dress her in McCall's 7675, copyright 1965. She has a lovely figure, this woman, and this would show it off.  Yet, it is respectful of a place of spiritual worship. Churchwoman likes red, so I see this in red linen. View A. That gives her a bow, but a sophisticated, age-appropriate one. Truly. This dress is chic. This dress is feminine. This dress is sexy. And this dress is elegant enough for church.

And, yes, dear readers, I know the Bible says "judge not, lest ye be judged." I know it. And I admit to feeling a tad guilty for criticizing my fellow churchgoers. But. On the other hand,  to quote a pal of mine who has a different perspective: "You'd better, by God, judge other people. They're examples for you. Watching them shows you how to act. Or how not to act."

So. I am curious what you think about casual wear. Do you think our definition of casual has gotten too lax, too broad? Are we simply too lazy these days? Are we unwilling to take the extra time to look presentable? Are we all just one two-sizes-too-small tee-shirt away from becoming people of Walmart?

(Yes. I am wearing yoga pants, a 3 Dots tee, and Merrell shoes as I write this. But, if I do insist myself, they are all attractive, and proper for my home office. And even Costco! Really.)

Learning to sew: Lead me out of the cold, dark night, she pleaded. June 28, 2010 16:50 4 Comments

I'm confused. Remember the selvage issue I mentioned with the black cotton linen fabric? To be specific, the selvage unraveled. Puffs Girl suggested going to my sewing books. Like the good girl that I am, I followed her advice. Absolutely.

But.

I didn't get much help. I didn't. In fact, I didn't find anything that applied to my problem: How to get the fabric on the straight of grain when the selvage turned to loose threads in the washing machine. Loose threads. That is my selvage. I did read over and over and over again the importance of getting the fabric on the straight of grain. All right. I get it. I do. Really. But how do I accomplish that task?

I could beat myself up for choosing a fabric I loved for this skirt. A fabric I've been saving for years for exactly the right garment. I could do that. I could. It would be so easy. But I'm not going to do that. I won't give in to insecurity. I won't give in to negativity. I won't go hide in the closet under the hems of my dresses. No. Absolutely not.  I am going to plunge forward into the darkness. I'm going to do my very best to find a path that leads to the straight of grain.

Is it wrong to wash the fabric first? Should I simply put it in a tub filled with hot water to preshrink it?  The sewing books ­­– and there were many - I went to for a way out of the darkness advised this is the way to go. What do you do, dear readers? Do you wash the fabric first? I want to know. I do. I want to get it right next time. Advice, please. Please, she asked, with urgency.

Channeling Catherine: Liberate your sanguine inner vixen. June 28, 2010 11:28 2 Comments

Plunging neckline: De rigueur.

Lippmann Collection My Old Flame nail polish: Perfect.

Cigarette: Optional.

Vogue Special Design S-4846, copyright 1957: Beneficial.

Aging gracefully: Desirable.

 

 

Learning to sew: I've switched patterns. I'm fickle. What about it? June 26, 2010 20:19 5 Comments

Excuse my tone. Please. I'm a little upset. No. No. Scratch that. I'm a lot upset. I am. You can probably hear me screaming.  Listen closely, listen, you'll hear my anguished cries amid the coyote yips. You will. Why, you ask? Why would a fabulous, together, with-it woman like myself have a minute's frustration? A moment's even?

Well. Because. Because Safari let me down. Hard. Right after I'd written the most wonderful post. Clever. Funny. Add your own favorite superlative here. Safari crashed. Cratered. Croaked. (Am I annoying you with alliteration? Forgive me. Please. I beg you. I deserve a little leeway after such a trauma. I do.)

So. Anyway. (Thank God for Madeleine Peyroux. Thank you, Marticia, for introducing us.) Today, I:

Switched patterns. It's a woman's prerogative. Isn't it? Isn't it? It's also a man's, but that is neither here. Nor there.

Turns out McCall's 5082 was factory fold. Factory fold! Normally, normally, this would make me all aglow. Positively radiant. But. I could not bear to unfold it. I couldn't. So. Back to the pattern cabinet went I. And I pulled out Simplicity 1345. (Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long. Oh, Leonard, the lyrics you write.) Same look. But a difference in construction. Not, I think, a big one. But. I could be wrong. It would be the first time, of course. Absolutely. But these things happen. They do. Or so I have been told. The Simplicity does not have side seams. None. Nary a one. Not on the left. Not on the right. There are darts in place of side seams. So. Dear, dear readers, I ask you: Will this be harder? Simplicity claims, right there on the front of the envelope "SIMPLE TO MAKE". And would such a venerable company fib? Tell me they wouldn't. Tell me. Please. Because I really like this pattern. I do.

Prepared the pattern and the fabric. Yep. I did. I ironed the pattern. I pressed the fabric. Then I hung both up. I did. Absolutely. I think my anal tendency toward perfectionism will be a benefit in the sewing room. Don't you? Speaking of perfectionism, I was quite unhappy to discover that the original dressmaker had pinked this pattern. Pinked it! Bad dressmaker. Bad. Bad! I tell you, I think I should hunt her down and rap her knuckles with a metal-edged ruler. I do. Yes indeedy. I have a mean streak when it comes to the care of patterns, dogs and cats. You should treat them with kindness and respect. They should be coddled. They should. Absolutely.

(Oh, my God. I love Shostakovich's Jazz Suite No. 1: Waltz. So much. Yes. I am moving around here, musicwise.)

Pondered sewing questions. When I washed the fabric, the selvage frayed. Frayed. Obviously, it is no respecter of this fledgling seamstress. It isn't. So. How will I ensure that the skirt pieces are cut on the straight of grain? How, lovely and wise sewistas, how?

Also, is it OK, I wonder, to cut a virgin pattern and the fabric in one fell swoop? Or is this time-saving technique frowned upon?

And now, dear fans, you are out there, aren't you? Prove it to me. After all, it's enough that Safari has let me down. It is. Truly. I'm feeling needy. Ever so. Answer my questions. Please. Reassure me. I beg you. After all, only you have that magic technique. (Yup, I'm listening to a CD I made, and now, Rosemary Clooney and Perez Prado are performing Sway. Love it.)

Channeling Catherine: It's a shame to call this a little black dress. June 24, 2010 17:51

Staring pedestrians: Repugnant.

Change for parking meter: Optional.

Chan Luu earrings: Necessary.

Vogue 9400: Time-saving.

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.

Just the dress to wear with a 1940s-style victory roll June 22, 2010 21:44 1 Comment

Some days — and I admit they are rare — I feel prim. I feel proper. I feel organized. (Well. All right. All right. I rarely feel organized, dear readers, except when it comes to business. But you know that. You do. Absolutely.) But. There are those days, those days that are becoming less rare, when I want to feel together. When I want to stuff the yoga capris in a drawer, pull something spiffy and ironed out of my closet, start up the station wagon, drive into town, have lunch and stop by Show Business and rent Mrs. Miniver on the way home. And on those days, I want to wear Simplicity 4310, View 1, circa 1940s.

I want to pull out the bobby pins —  I know I have some, somewhere amid the lipsticks and the mascara and the toothpaste and the hair goo — and style my hair in a victory roll. Like so in case you don't know exactly how to do one.

And, yes, ever-so-stylish, ever-so-1940s Simplicity 4310 can be yours. Available at The Blue Gardenia, of course. For a mere $18. What a deal. Yes indeed.

The suit for those days when you must look strong yet chic June 21, 2010 18:02

You want clothes that you don't have to fret over. Clothes that are comfortable. Clothes that speak competence. That instill confidence. Like Vogue 6806, circa 1940s. Chic. Powerful. Fashionable. A suit that Amanda Bonner would be proud to wear. In the courtroom or out, this is an ensemble perfect for your Kate Hepburn moments. Absolutely. So. Let your fingers stride over to

Channeling Catherine: Only your cold bite can satiate his hunger. June 20, 2010 17:11 4 Comments

Bowie: Fantasy.

The Hunger: Preparation.

Hairspray: Necessary. 

Vogue Paris Original 1376 designed by Claude Montana, circa 1980s: Evocative.

The Asian skirt: Let me share my experience, strength and hope June 19, 2010 17:44 6 Comments

 At last, the Asian skirt is done. Finished. Completed. While it is far from perfect — and much more likely to be a textbook Don't than a textbook Do  — I am pleased. Truly. First, it is wearable. Second, there are a few things that I did right. A few. The waistband looks professional. Really. It does. (Well, there is that little flaw at the end, where it doesn't overlap quite as much as I'd like. But I refuse to dwell on that mistake.) The hem is even, thanks to the expert pinning done by His Bertness. And although it took me hours to hem the skirt by hand, not one thread shows on the outside. Yippee skippee. Now. The inside of the skirt is another matter. Entirely. I could say pass the Puffs, please. But I won't. No tears. No sniffles. Because at least I finished this skirt. I did. I'm putting a gold tinfoil Dennison star right smack dab in the middle of my forehead. I am. There. I think it looks rather cute.

I managed to match two seams. (Again, I will  not dwell on the uneven stitching on the hem tape. I've discussed that before. Enough. I'll work on perfecting the hem tape application on my next skirt. Yes indeedy.)

However. Moving on. Here's an error too big to miss. What did I do wrong here? The seam doesn't match. And there's an unsightly pleat. Did I not ease the hem enough? Should I have pinned the seam to ensure that it lined up perfectly? I definitely do not want to repeat this mistake on my next skirt. Help!

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.

Channeling Catherine: Set free your inner snooty mod bitch. Now. June 16, 2010 09:51

Attitude: Essential. 

New York Designer's Collection N/8694: Beneficial.

Saddle-stitching: Necessary. 

Hue Diamond Tights: Helpful.