Anne surveyed herself in the mirror of the blue room with girlish satisfaction. She had a particularly pretty gown on. Originally it had been only a simple little slip of cream silk with a chiffon overdress. But Phil had insisted on taking it home with her in the Christmas holidays and embroidering tiny rosebuds all over the chiffon. Phil's fingers were deft, and the result was a dress which was the envy of every Redmond girl. Even Allie Boone, whose frocks came from Paris, was wont to look with longing eyes on that rosebud concoction as Anne trailed up the main staircase at Redmond in it.

from Anne of the Island, L.M. Montgomery, 1915.

Submissions for this recurring feature of A Dress A Day are gratefully accepted.

The Ossie Clark exhibit from whence this picture comes is long over, but the nice thing about museums (especially the V&A, which is the spiritual home of The Dress) is that they don’t throw stuff away. Heck, they don’t even take down old websites! Thus, today’s dress. Which makes me wish (and not for the first time) that I were a six-foot-tall glamazon. (Barefoot at the party, of course, and dripping with gypsy gold-coin jewelry … ) You can see it again, in context, here.

Be sure to scroll down to the dress and coat with big red floral design (Celia Birtwell’s “Floating Daisy”).

I came across this dress while winnowing through my patterns for ones I wouldn't be too sad to get rid of. This one was an instant grab: I don't do peplums. It's been sitting on my desk for a couple weeks. Every time I see it, though, the "nah …" reaction diminishes, so much so that now I've reached the point where I'm thinking about what fabric I could possibly make this in. That, perhaps, a cheery yellow gingham would be an ironic counterpoint to the absolute hard-edged cigarette-holder Crawfordishness of this peplumed wonder.

I still wouldn't use the floral embroidery transfer. That's a bridge too far.