I really love the waist treatment on this pattern (from Tina at What-I-Found Vintage Patterns) but it is a size 11. That's right, e-lev-en. Bust 31 1/2, which I might be able to fit into immediately AFTER I track down Ray Palmer and his shrinking lens. Possibly. I might also have to track down some superhero who has a "remove-a-rib" lens. (I'm sure there was one in 1970s Marvel comics.)
I do understand that people come in all shapes and sizes blah blah blah but it's so sad when something like this doesn't. I know I could always scale it up but pattern grading falls right after "regrout tile in public bathrooms" on my list of fun things to do.
The saddest thing about these adorable patterns is that they're often uncut … because adolescent girls either want to draw as little attention to themselves as possible, or they want to dress like raddled divorceés who drink in the afternoon. (Or, judging from what I see in the windows of Forever21 as I walk past, extras in a Pat Benetar video. Aren't we tired of asymmetrical jersey ruffles with unfinished edges yet? I know I am.)
I suppose there are so many truly awful things about adolescence—systemic "unfairness," skin problems, parents—that I shouldn't begrudge the odd pattern that only comes in sub-deb sizes. (To be clear: there's nothing wrong with having a 31.5 inch bust, even only considering how many awesome things you can wear if you don't have to take into account chestular scaffolding and trussing.) And it's not like I don't have roughly two patterns to sew for every day that I can expect to live, most just as cute as this one, if not cuter. So you should put this whole post down to the cranky ramblings of the aged. If I had a lawn, I could now shout for those darn kids to get off it. (And you'll have to excuse me now, my stories are on.)