This dress comes from Buffalo Gal Vintage, and it caught my eye on a quick prowl through the site. It's mustard gold, one of my favorite colors; it has scallops, one of my favorite shapes; and it has pockets, one of my favorite things. And … it's made of corduroy. What an interesting choice! I am always leery of corduroy dresses because, if you're not careful, you turn into one giant lint brush. A corduroy skirt, yes, of course; a corduroy shirt (especially in a pretty ditsy floral) is fine (you're a lumberjack and you're okay); a corduroy dress … eh. But this one is so cute! I may have to rethink my anti-corduroy-dress fatwa.
Buffalo Gal's site is very interesting, as well — she has dozens of different models, it seems like, and the dress shots are much more like fashmag editorial pages or high-end catalog shots than they are like the typical vintage site dress shots. I'm not sure how I feel about that — on the one hand, the dresses seem much more alive this way; on the other, it's sometimes hard to see details, which are often the whole reason to go vintage.
Anyway, if you are as tempted as I am by the lure of mustard-and-scallops (sounds like a menu!), click on the image to visit the site. It's $55, and B36/W26.
Dee sent me this, from Old Navy. Isn't it adorable? I love that this style of dress has gone from the pages of Vogue to Old Navy in less than two years. And, unlike some other styles that have made the same journey, this is actually appropriate for a little girl to wear. And darn cute! The smaller sizes come with a matching diaper cover! (I wonder if the diaper cover is color-banded, too?)
Click on the image to go to the Old Navy site. It's $16.50, and goes up to a size 5T.
(And, just for my sister's benefit, I know this is two cute little girls' dresses in less than two weeks, but I promise, I am NOT pregnant. Honest.)
Thanks to Kate who sent me the news that Cheap Chic Weddings had declared the winner of their Toilet Paper Wedding Dress contest. This dress, created by Hanah Kim, won second place, but it's more interesting than the first place winner, in my opinion. Look at the detail! The rows and rows of ruffling! If you click on the image you can see the back of the dress, which is just as stunning.
The rules state that only toilet paper, glue, and tape can be used. My mind, at least, boggles. First off, how did she get the thing on? Secondly, she won $200. Did that even pay for the toilet paper? Also, the contest was sponsored by a company that makes "Just Married" toilet paper. I have to admit I never even thought of carrying my wedding "theme" over to the bathrooms. (In fact, I never even thought of a wedding "theme" — the theme of my wedding, was, in fact, "Wedding." But then again, this was way back in the paleozoic era; instead of saying "I do," Mr. DressADay grunted and handed me a haunch of wooly mammoth. Very touching. My mom cried.)
The last thing that amazed me is that, in order to enter the contest, you (or a member of your immediate family) must be planning a wedding. You're planning a wedding and have time to make a dress out of toilet paper? Obviously, there are people out there with much better time-management skills than mine.
Do please click on the image to see the other dresses … if you scroll all the way to the bottom you'll see a link to last year's entries, too. I hope, in a sick way, that some embryo Bridezilla takes a picture of one of these loo-roll creations to a local seamstress and says "Make me that! Only, do it in silk, please." That would be hilarious.
Many thanks to Cherokee Geisha, who sent me a link to Capricorn Vintage on eBay. Capricorn Vintage just happens to be listing this dress, which I adore. I love op-art prints, but most of them are 1960s shifts, which are not easy for me to wear. This is an optical-illusion print (the classic temple/door one) in a 1950s silhouette! Check out this close-up:
A very nice size it is, too: B40/W32. It's only got a couple days left to run, so if you want it, click on the image to go to the auction.
I also love how the print gets larger as it nears the hem of the skirt — what a great effect! It reminds me of one of my all-time favorite "idea dresses" (that is, dresses I have an idea for that I won't ever be able to make) — I want a dress with a print of Tetris blocks, dropping from the shoulders to make a border of nearly-completed rows around the hem. Wouldn't that rock? Obviously, it would have to be a '50s silhouette, as well, to get the full effect, and to reference the 1980s '50s revival that was going on about the time the game was invented. Now, if only someone would make that Tetris border print fabric for me, I could get to work on it.
In all the Duro-dress hullaballoo, I bet you thought I'd forgotten about the other design that I'm obsessed with: vintage midriff bands. Isn't this a great pattern? It's a good size, and the starting bid is only $2.99. If I weren't MOVING in a couple weeks I would snap it up. I wouldn't, however, do the elbow-length sleeves, which I hate — I'd either make them shorter, or do the 3/4 length version. Wouldn't this be excellent in black wool with a red or teal waistband? Piped, of course — the red with white, and the teal with pale blue. Or a solid heavy cotton with a print waistband, preferably an Asian-inspired print. Red with a cream/red/yellow print sounds good to me. And what about cutting the band with a center seam to match bias stripes there? Good times.
What would you do with this pattern?
Thanks to Ronica, who sent this to me, puzzled that this dress (the Vintage Inspired Garden Dress, in case the picture-link doesn't work and you have to search the site) is marked as "One Size Fits All". Obviously, this is another case of "One Size Fits All (the designer's friends)" or " … All (the people we deign to buzz through the door of the boutique)" or " … All (the people dumb enough to click 'add to cart' without getting any proper measurements)". This may also explain why the dress is marked down to $102.40 from $256. And why there are no customer reviews or comments about it.
I like both of these fabrics AND the sash, but I'm not sure I like them together. I mean, if it were a couch in the skirt fabric and throw pillows in the bodice fabric, yeah, that would be a pretty nice combo. But this just says to me that somebody had just enough of each of these fabrics to run up this one dress!
Believe it or not, this dress was intended to advertise office furniture. (Click on the image to see the entire original picture, which also includes western-themed draperies and a bemused-looking cow skull.) I feel the same way about this ad as I do about a recent series of ads in the fashmags that are intended to advertise faucets. "Great dress!" I think. "Where can I buy it?" And then I realize that no, it's not an ad for a dress, it's an ad for something else (faucets, steel office furniture, the Letter-Matic 1960) that I have absolutely no interest in. Then my inner thwarted moppet imagines jumping up and down on the ad. (Yes, I have a rich fantasy life. Why do you ask?)
Back to the dress. I love everything about it. The lemon meringue color. The halter. The bow. The midriff. The skirt. The haircut. The "I'm thinking exalted yet business-y thoughts" pose. Even the shoes are perfect! How I hope that the model was the glamorous wife of the company president, and that he demanded she be in all the photos, until she ran off with Fred from accounting. Or, better yet, maybe she was the glamorous designer of the "steel … gloved in style" desks, and responsible for the cow skull and the palm trees, and eventually came up with an aqua-and.jpgnk ladies' version, complete with built-in pop-up vanity mirror, for "the stylish female executive."
Of course, she's probably a local catalog model, and spent the shoot complaining about the air-conditioning and snapping her gum between shots. Sigh.
Do click on the image to go explore the Plan59 site. Isn't this one great? And this one would ALMOST make me drink Pepsi. (If I were a slightly-peeved orchid enthusiast, of course.) And best of all, this one. Oh, where oh where are the flying cars? We were PROMISED them, dammit.