Learning to sew: Preparing to hem the Asian skirt. At last. June 15, 2010 20:27 5 Comments

You can see the result. Yes. I still must iron the hem. No. I am not happy with the length. But. I did not want to cut the figures in half. Compromises were made. So be it. Such is life. Etc. I still must sew it. But, thanks to Gertie, she of the fabulous Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing, I am no longer apprehensive about this step. She suggested  this video, Londa's Favorite Tailor's Catch Stitch Hem. I am armed. I am dangerous. And I can hem this skirt. I have the thread. I have the needles. And I have the knowledge. Absolutely. (And despite the shoddy camera work — done by yours truly - the skirt really is all pinned up. Perhaps I should double-pin it? I am thinking the pressing will take care of that. If I am wrong, tell me. Now. Please. I beg you.)

Channeling Catherine: Embrace the cold, competent, carnal look. June 13, 2010 11:08

Sexy man fan in shades: Desirable.

Sophisticated chignon: Essential.

Melamed "Demi" belt: Classic.

Vogue Paris Original 2568: Indispensable. 

Save the chaise for Henry Jones. (Yes. I adore Johnny Mercer.) June 12, 2010 15:18 5 Comments

Indulge me, dear readers, for a moment. Or two. Or three. Please. Our oldest dog, Henry Jones, usually watches over me as I do The Blue Gardenia shipping. Today was no exception.

He seemed especially adorable today. So. Naturally, I had to get the camera. Naturally, I had to share. Because you want to know. Right? Of course you do. Say you do. You don't want to make me cry. Do you?

You can tell he is having deep puppy thoughts here. Doubtless, he is pondering what I should make next. After all, I am almost finished with the Asian skirt. Almost. So close. The hem, and I am there.

Oh my. A potential threat.  On the street below our window. It could be an innocent jogger. Or it could be a terrorist disguising himself as a senior citizen in a baseball cap. I cannot tell the difference. I can't. But Henry can.

Oh. Thank Henry! Disaster averted. Shipping's ready. A quick trip to the post office, and I can return to sewing. Absolutely. I have needle and thread close at hand.

Learning to sew: The perils of pinking, the horrors of hem tape June 11, 2010 09:57 9 Comments

So. Dear readers, indulge my love of alliteration once more. I've had a bad day in the sewing room. 

First, I pinked the hemline of my skirt. You may recall that the fabric I am working with on the Asian skirt ravels. Prolifically. I had already zig-zag stitched the edge, but I was not pleased. I felt more needed to be done to prevent the abundant fraying. So I decided to pink. Now. I've had these pinking shears for many years. They have resided unloved and unused in a drawer of my sewing machine cabinet since I brought them home from Jo Ann's. Boy oh boy. Were they cranky? In a word, yes. They did not cut fluidly. It was a battle to use them. Rather like using my pruning shears when they're loaded with gunk. Is this normal? There's no rust. They look brand new. But. 

Next, I applied the hem tape. Now. One would think the tape would come with instructions. One would think. But. No. I went to sewing books looking for instructions. I found none. None! I was distraught. I was determined. I called a friend. She went to her handy sewing manual. Nothing. No tips. No advice. So. I forged onward. I decided to take matters into my own unskilled hands and sew the tape on to the best of my abilities. Well, let me say, it looks awful. Unprofessional. See the puckers? Another project for the ash can. What's a woman to do? Eat chocolate. Of course. It helps. Absolutely.

So. I ate dark chocolate. Yum. Reinforced, I ironed. It still does not look right. It doesn't. Help! Help. Please. What did I do wrong? Please. I beseech you. Share your experience and knowledge. You can see the complete skirt tape below. I thank you in advance, dearest readers. I want to finish this tomorrow. I do.

Channeling Catherine: Tips on being deliciously Deneuve* June 8, 2010 12:56 3 Comments

Iconic gay designer as accessory: Essential.

Cigarette: Optional.

Vogue Americana 1986, circa '60s: Helpful.

   
 * I love alliteration. I do. I won't deny this love. I won't. I won't. I won't. So there.

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. 

Is criticizing fit classist? June 3, 2010 10:44 8 Comments

In a recent post, Gretchen of Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing, faulted some ill-fitting garments she saw while out and about in New York. Her comments proved to be controversial. Boy. Was I surprised. You could have knocked me down with a feather. Really. One commenter found Gretchen's post not only offensive but classist.   

Naturally, this response made me cogitate. Contemplate. Ruminate. Darn it. Nix the big words. Do. I chewed over this, being the sensitive new-age dame that I am. And guess what, lovely readers? I do not think fit is a class issue, and I offer two photographs as proof.

The first is of a pair of slacks designed by Carolina Herrera, a designer I would wear — if only my budget agreed. This pic is from the catalog of a high-end retailer. And if you want these pants, you'll have to plunk down nearly $1,000. But. Take a moment. Look at the zipper! Look at the pleats! And these are on a malnourished model! Wait. Wait. I'm getting apoplectic. I am. Deep breath. OK. Note the pulling fabric at the top of the placket. These slacks don't fit properly.  

The second is an after photo from What Not To Wear. After! Now this is a show I watch. This is a show I enjoy. Absolutely. But despite the admonishments from Stacey and Clinton about the importance of good fit, I often find myself cringing at the makeovers. Look at this pencil skirt. It's a fabulous style. Truly. The high waist and belt are luscious. Love 'em. I do. But those wrinkles! Egads, this skirt is too tight. Way. Take a few inches off this skirt, and any hooker would be proud to wear it.

Don't get me wrong. I realize not everyone can afford a tailor. Heck, not everyone can afford new clothes. With a hubby whose job was outsourced last year, I know economic distress. But I also know well-heeled women who purposely refuse to wear any garment larger than a size 4, even though their bodies are a size 8. I know men who always buy high-water pants, even though they're nowhere near a pond.

So. What do you think, dear readers? Tell me. I'm listening.

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.

The waistband is on the Asian skirt. Let me share what I learned. May 10, 2010 14:11

Ahh, the Asian skirt. You thought I'd forgotten about it. You thought I wasn't working on it. Didn't you? Confess. Not that I don't deserve your doubt. Your skepticism. Your derision. Even. But the waistband is on! I have learned to put on a waistband. Are you surprised? I am. Astounded. Totally.

It doesn't look too bad from the outside.

The inside looks professional, too. Sort of. At any rate. And I did this by hand. By hand! Kudos to self!

There are flaws with the waistband. Well. One at least. The band itself is too short. This is because I accidentally stitched my side seams at 1/2" rather than 5/8". And my fabric was too delicate to rip. Oh, well. (Drat. My shoulder aches. I suffer for this blog. I do, dear oh-so-loved readers.)

I did learn a lesson from this waistband experience, besides checking to insure I am stitching on the right line. Really. I did.

The proper interfacing is important. Let me repeat this: The proper interfacing is important! Very very very. I did not check Sandra Betzina's Fabric Savvy before going to JoAnn's. I simply dropped by and asked a JoAnn's associate for advice. Uh-oh. Bad move. Very. Our JoAnn's is mostly a junk and craft store, and the salesperson was most emphatic that a stiff and heavy interfacing was exactly what I needed. Being a sewing neophyte, I was timid. I didn't argue. I did ask: Are you sure? So. I did try. Politely. Then I bought what she recommended. The waistband was too thick to sew on the machine, and, my friends, it was difficult to sew on by hand. Very. My fingertips were quite sore when the task was completed.

But. The waistband is on. Now. At last. I have to sew on a closure. And hem tape. Then hem the skirt. You'll hear about it when I do. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe. It could happen.

Meet the fashion icon of my youth: My mother. May 9, 2010 18:46 2 Comments

And now please forgive me for taking a moment or two or three from the regularly scheduled programming to honor my mother. In the picture, above, from the late 1950s, note the chic bolero. Yes. I believe those are flowers in her hair. She's flanked by my dad and grandfather.

This is a favorite of mine because of the glamorous hair. It always reminds me of that saying " the higher the hair, the closer to God." My mother made many of her clothes, but this was an off-the-rack purchase.

 In a stylish swing coat with Frosty.

Eating! A favorite pastime for us both. My mother did make this green dress. Butterick pattern, as I recall. All of her sisters had the same dress. Note the  glamorous hair. Always.

At my Aunt Kathleen's wedding.  Do females still wear elegant corsages?

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.

Come back, come back! Tell me what you think of these '40s PJs. May 5, 2010 08:01

Oh, wrenching pain in my heart. My stats have been tumbling. You don't love me anymore. Therefore . . . sigh . . . I have forced myself from my bed to post. Sure, it's difficult. Sure, I have to keep my wounded arm as close to my side as possible while I type. But.  . . . Sob. Sniffle. Pass the Puffs, please. . . . Where was I? Oh, yes. But. I can't lose you, my dear readers. I must try to win you back.

So, while spending this last week in His Bertness's jammies, I have spent some time thinking about what I would wear in a perfect world.  Never mind that in a perfect world I wouldn't sever my labrum. In a perfect world my shoulder would be perfect. Perfect! My labrum would be strong. Invincible.

But back to my point . . . please bear with me, beloved readers, the Percocet is causing my mind to drift here and there like a puppy on a leash for the first time . . . in that mythical perfect world, I would wear View B from Butterick 3306. The button-front design allows easy access to protect my shoulder. And the stitching is so very attractive. I think I'd like an alternate version lengthened a bit as a nightdress. 

Oh. What's that sound? It's my bed calling. And a Bernie Rhodenbarr book. So, dear readers, I'll say  ta ta for now. Don't desert me. Please. Think of me. Suffering. No yoga. No Pilates. Where are those Puffs?

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?

Learning to sew: The Asian skirt, part 2. March 16, 2010 16:17 2 Comments

Now. My assignment from sewing dominatrix Marticia was to stitch up the seams, then finish them by pinking and zig-zagging. (Or is it zigging-zagging? Mmmmm . . . .) At any rate, she was absolutely right in her seam-finish assignment because my fabric ravels. Make that RAVELS. All-caps. However. There was a slight problem. It seems that the line on my machine that I thought was the 5/8" line was the 1/2. So, dear learners, note this: If your machine plate is unmarked, TAPE THE 5/8" LINE. This bears repeating: 

I think the seams look quite professional from the outside. The Asian figures match nicely. Don't you agree, dear readers? And the skirt sits slightly below the waist, so if it's a wee bit big because of the seam size snafu, who is to notice? Really. It shall be our little secret. So. Put that in the vault. Toss the key. Promise?

And forgive my immodesty, but I think the dart does not reveal that this skirt is made at home by a novice. I'm pleased. Really. A bow to Marticia. Or a curtsey. Whichever you prefer. I thank you. 

My zipper has been drinking. March 9, 2010 10:43 5 Comments

Saturday, I spent the afternoon with Marticia, the Sewing Dominatrix. I worked on a simple A-line skirt. I was so happy, so pleased to be making a garment at last. But, dear readers, the joy, the excitement I felt over sewing (finally!) was tempered by the look of my zipper. 

The stitching is crooked! Crooked. Drat. Taskmistress Marticia insists it is because I did not pin the zipper in right on the seam. What do you think? Should I give up on centered zippers completely and do a lapped zipper instead? Do tell. Share your thoughts. I want my next zipper to look better. Absolutely.

Why, yes, I did sew this weekend. But rituals first. March 8, 2010 16:31

Note the vintage linens. Estate sale find many years ago. Note the salad, the pork chops — yes, fried, just the way we Southern dames like 'em —  and note the cake. Yes, the cake! Today, we celebrated the birthday of His Bertness.

He blew out all the candles. Good boy!

And we did eat the daisies. At least a few of them. But you, observant readers, will notice His Bertness extinguished all the candles. Each and every flame put out. Absolutely. I think that means he gets his birthday wish granted. I am thinking he wished for gainful and rewarding and well-compensated employment. I am hoping that wish is fulfilled very soon. Yes indeedy.

Be sure to tune in tomorrow for an expose on my adventure this weekend with the Sewing Dominatrix. You don't want to miss it. You don't. I would not lie to you. Really.

Oh. If only these two Oscar gowns were mine for the taking. March 7, 2010 17:55

 
Now, dear readers, I know I always promise to be brief when I share my thoughts on award show  fashion. I do. I know. And I always have the best intentions. Truly. I swear. (Or I would if my dearly departed grandmother had not always frowned on swearing.)

So. Quickly. Because the only way I could keep my eyes open tonight would be to use that nasty Clockwork Orange device. And I don't wanna. Because I do not like to suffer. I don't. Not one little bit.

So. Hold your breath no longer.

Favorite dress, bar none: J-Lo's Armani Privee. So fifties. So fab. And she always looks so bee-yoo-tee-ful. Know why? Cuz she is.

Second favorite: Sandra Bullock's Marchesa. Sparkly. Girly. Elegant. Dreamy as moonbeams. And didn't she just glow? Loved her rose-red lips. I did. I do. I also loved her side-swept straight long hair. Because it mirrors my current style. Which I am wearing because long hair requires fewer trips to the beauty salon. But that's another story.

(Excuse me for a moment. Time to switch Waylon for Ella and Nelson.) 

What, I must ask, what was Sarah Jessica thinking? This Chanel is a luscious color. But my warm and toasty feelings end there. My. Oh my. The less said the better.

Although I will say this does not look like a hug-friendly frock. I do love the makeup and hair. SJP's one caramel girl.

And Zoe Saldana's dress inspired love. It inspired hate. The full spectrum. As in, the bodice is outstanding. Totally. The skirt, though. Egads. It could be covering great granny's extra roll of toilet paper.  Blame Givenchy. Zoe, however, is pretty, pretty, pretty. As always.

So. There ya go. Now that I have done my duty, beloved readers, I am off to the land of Nod. 

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.

Shameless plug: Release your inner Liz. Right now. February 24, 2010 12:16 2 Comments

You've missed me, haven't you? Admit it. I know you have.

But today, here I am. Back at the computer screen to tell you about the smashing — and I do mean smashing — patterns just added at The Blue Gardenia. As always, I will tell you about a few of my favorites. Just a few. 

Perhaps my absolute favorite is Prominent Designer M130. Sexy. Sleek. And it has a bow up top, if you are into that sort of thing. Courtesy of Luis Estevez. This is the perfect dress for your Mad Men moments. You'll have a line of Don Drapers begging for your favors. They might be drooling, though, so have plenty of hankies at the ready.

Have you been watching the Olympic games? You have, haven't you? And now you're having fantasies of executing triple axels and Mohawk turns and taking home the gold.

But not for you those tacky sequins and shiny spandex. No. No. A thousand times no. You want something retro. Something feminine. Something with a skirt that swirls all the way to the North Pole. For you, McCall 3433 from 1939. The judges will stand up and applaud your choice. They will. Trust me. That gold medal is yours. Do with it what you will. Door stop? Framed as wall art? Mmmmm . . .

And for those days when you want to dish with the girls over lemon sole and lettuce, may I suggest Vogue 6169? This dress quietly yet firmly speaks sophistication. It's got it all: double peplum. Dart tucks. A frill at the sleeve. Of course, they'll want to know where you got it. Neiman Marcus? Saks? Barney's? Will you tell? The choice is yours.

And now for those pesky details, 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. Actually, we take warm soft cash, too. We are so agreeable.