Five Things I Never Seem to Have Enough Of:

1. Sharpie markers (where do they all go?)
2. quarters for parking meters
3. hours of sleep
4. milk chocolate Hobnobs
5. wrap dresses with midriff detail (see below)

So cute! I love the yellow backed with gray; not just because I love that color combination, but also because it looks like the flannel backing you find underneath ceramics. Like she has a right and a wrong side, and the wrong side is padded to reduce scratches.

The pattern's up on eBay now (click the image to visit the auction). B34. I'd bid myself but I'm Not Buying Patterns right now; at least not until I get mine all organized (now there's a topic for Mr. Mann) and figure out what I actually have. I did the first batch last night and it feels very odd to divorce the pattern envelopes from the innards … even though I know it's for their own good. And mine.

But, seriously, if anyone can tell me where all my Sharpie markers go, I'd really appreciate it. I swear, I feel like I buy a couple every month! The green ones seem to hang around the longest, but black ones disappear in a heartbeat.

(And if you're not reading Merlin Mann's 5ives, well, why not?)

Okay, perhaps that subject line was better left untyped, but this eyelet dress from La Redoute (kindly sent in by Angela) is pretty sweet. (Ignore that that model seems to be sizing you up for edibility.) It reminds me of this one that Helen was looking for a pattern for last year.

When I was in LA I almost bought $100 of broderie anglaise, but I restrained myself with difficulty, remembering that I already *have* an eyelet dress (I'll add it to the picture queue) and that there's something fishy about a wardrobe with more than a couple eyelet items. I don't know why, but eyelet, like lamé and lurex, is more of a condiment fabric than a main course. But it's lovely for summer!

Speaking of summer sewing, although I don't think I can do the full-on SWAP (sewing with a plan) lifestyle (as it involves the using only minimal prints, and you all know we can't have that here at Dress A Day Headquarters) but I am considering, this year, limiting myself to maybe only four colors — bright yellow, grass green, baby blue, and orange. That way I could maybe reduce my packing tsuris … and of course, even restricting colors still means I can wear stuff like this:

Or this:

Right?

I know, I know, I've been promising pictures of stuff I've sewn, especially Duros, for ages now, haven't I? Well, here's one …

This is made up of some of the Liberty I bought in London, along with some solid quilting cotton for the banding (which my friend Brad helped me choose — he has a remarkable eye for color, unsurprisingly). It was very difficult to get the right warm brown to match the brown lozenges in the print!

I really like the brown-and-blue combo (I like brown with most other colors, actually). It's fairly lightweight, which means for autumn and winter I've been wearing it over a ecru long-sleeved scoopneck shirt and tights. That makes it mostly warm enough.

Here's a closeup of the bodice (I made only an impressionistic ironing attempt, so excuse the remaining creases):

I think the only alteration I made from the original pattern was to lengthen the waist ties so that I could bring them around and tie them in the front, which I prefer. It's easier to tie, for one, and it looks a little more grown-up than the ties in the back.

All right. There you go. I made two other Duros round about the same time as I made this one, and I don't think I've posted pictures of either of them, so I'll try to take them tomorrow or over the weekend. Wish me luck!

Sometimes I look at a pattern like this one (it's a vintage Vogue Couturier from Jean Muir, # 2756.) and quail. Do I really have the chops for all those curved seams? Do I really want to sew on all those tiny buttons? Wouldn't my time be better spent making yet another circle skirt (number eleventy-billion in a series)? What if I mess up the fabric?

Well, sometimes all you need is the news that someone else has freed the pattern from its paper-envelope prison and made it into a real dress. In fact, Carmen did that for this pattern, and even better, sent me a picture! Yep, it looks complicated, but it's doable:

The goat's name, by the way, is Billie Holiday. Just thought you'd like to know. (Look at the shoes too, they're gorgeous!)

I'm glad to get this reminder, because even if I'm not going to sew this particular dress, there are plenty of other complicated ones in my stash begging to be set free. I'm going to get some cheap cotton and really WORK on one of them. Really do a muslin, and take my time with fitting. And if I ruin some cheap fabric, it still won't be a waste of time, as I'll be learning.

Monday night I went roller-skating (don't worry, this isn't as alarming of a segue as you think). I started working on backwards crossovers, and of course went immediately ass-over-teakettle to the floor. One of the instructors skated over to make sure I was all right, and I said "don't worry — if you don't fall down every once in a while, you aren't learning anything, right?" I think I need to extend that philosophy to sewing. If you don't ruin four yards of cheap cotton every once in a while, you aren't learning anything!

Lulu (no website link, she called herself "your classic lazy lurker") was nevertheless energetic enough to send me this … time will only tell if I'm energetic enough to sew it!

It's proportioned for 1" gingham, so that the tucks and pleats make solid bands, as you see here. I would definitely get rid of that tacky black lace on the skirt, but, hey, YTMV (your tacky may vary).

I love it in black, but I would ADORE it in pink, or brown, or grass green … even red, if you didn't mind looking like a picnic. (And who really minds looking like a picnic?) You could even make it in blue, and then next Halloween you could be Dorothy, with minimal effort.

The pattern also says you can use 1" stripes; I'm having trouble visualizing that, so I may have to make it just to see if my imagination is working. Call it a diagnostic test!

Summerset tagged me, so, here goes:

If you are tagged, you
1) Post 5 things about yourself that you have never posted
2) Tag 5 people whom you'd like to know more about

I have no idea what I've posted or not posted … feel free to Google and call foul on me in the comments.

1) I was the first, last, and only (as far as I know) National Junior Classical League Ambassador. This was way back in the late '80s. My "job" was to encourage the study of Latin (and Greek, too, I guess), but there was some kind of power-play between the outgoing student JCL president, who had thought up the position, and the main adult sponsor, who didn't think it was such a good idea, so I didn't end up doing much of anything. I did get a snazzy pin, though, and it looked great on my college applications.

2) Speaking of college, I ran a coffee shop when I was in school. This means that every person who was at the University of Chicago when I was there thinks they know me — I look so familiar! That's because I served them coffee every day. My favorite part was running the express line, with the ritual call of "Express Line: No soup, no pizza, no twenties, no waiting!"

3) Speaking of coffee, I don't actually drink it. I mean, I like coffee-flavor, and I love coffee candy (especially Pearson's Coffee Nips, which will break your teeth as sure as shooting), coffee ice cream, the smell of coffee (if people at the coffee shop asked me if the coffee was good, I would say "it smells great!") … and I will drink the occasional mocha frappuccino (aka the coffee milkshake) but I don't actually like the taste of hot regular liquid coffee. I always assumed that one day I'd be grown up and would drink coffee, but I guess I never grew up enough.

4) Another thing my childish self figured I would do when I was grown-up "enough" was smoke. My folks both smoked; that was just what grown-ups did, right? I even figured I'd smoke gold Benson & Hedges, just like my mom. Needless to say, if I never managed to grow up enough to drink coffee, I also never managed to grow up enough to smoke cigarettes. By the time I figured out that I wasn't smoking, there I was, a non-smoker. And thankfully, both my parents have also been non-smokers now for more than ten years!

5) And speaking of my forebears (well, the ones going back a-ways), I am supposedly a collateral descendant of a signer of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas McKean. (Collateral here means "descended from the same stock but by a different line", that is, I'm descended from the signer's brother, not the signer. What I really like about ol' Tom, though, is that he managed to hold multiple public offices at the same time. "One can scarcely believe the number of concurrent offices and duties this man performed during the course of his long career." So whenever I think I can't do everything I've signed up to do, I remember my illustrious forebear, who did so much — in several different states, simultaneously, and without indoor plumbing!

Now for the tagging part. I want to know more about all of you! I know a lot of you don't have blogs, so why don't each of you (who want to, of course, this is not compulsory) post something about yourself in the comments? If you do have a blog and want to do your five there, post a link in the comments. I promise to visit them all!

Oh, oh, oh, you MUST go watch this sewing video right now (click on the still to visit the page). Seriously. Not only does it give pretty good instructions for setting in a sleeve, it also has these perfectly delicious cringe-worthy bits:

— Betty, the star of the piece, asks her boyfriend what color her dress should be, and then has to think fast when he tells her a color she doesn't like (blue)! "Let's see what my book says," and then she uses SCIENCE to talk him into the color she wants … which is red.

— Her boyfriend suggests they have a fashion show! Great idea! What will they raise money for? New sewing machines for the home ec class? A trip to an art museum in the city for the girls? No! The boys' basketball team!

— Betty bastes her entire dress together before stitching it up on the machine! The ENTIRE DRESS! I never even considered such a thing. I barely baste in anything … I don't even mark darts anymore, I clip the legs and pin the point and have done with it. I should probably do more basting, but a WHOLE DRESS? I'm impatient enough as it is!

Thanks so much to Julie W. and to Lisa for the link!

Thanks to Jonquil for the link, from the great site Pink Loves Brown!

This is a 2" x 2" pin — adorable, right? If I wore a jeans jacket covered in pins (or 'badges') then this would have pride of place. I often wish I wore a jeans jacket covered in pins. Or maybe an army jacket? Olive drab canvas bag? Same genre …

They also have a needle and thread and scissors.

By the way, more than you ever needed to know about me is up at Norman Geras's blog — he asked me to do one of his profiles, and I happily agreed (I love questionnaires).

Several of you (Emily, Mel) have sent me links to this artist, Liz Tran, over the last few weeks — thank you very much! Of course I love her work.

There's a nice article about the artist and her work here. I especially liked this bit:

She's even painted dresses she wanted but couldn't afford, like a red strapless taffeta number with giant white polka dots. "After I sold the painting, I bought the dress," says a victorious Tran.

Now that's a woman after my own heart. And I love the idea of trading a representation of a thing for the thing itself … imagine going up to a hot dog cart and trading a sketch of a hot dog for something warm and covered in mustard. It's just so intellectually satisfying!

Tran's art isn't terribly expensive — the biggest ones seem to run only about $700 — so if you have an art jones this would be a good away to satisfy it!

The Sewist sent me a link to this knitted Duroesque dress … it's on a eBay auction that is ending momentarily, from seller kate_e_didit, but that seller has so many other wonderful knitting patterns that I was, momentarily, tempted to take up knitting. (Or rather, to pick it back up again. I think I have two sleeves and the back of a sweater around here somewhere.)

This pattern, however, does not inspire me to knit. It does move me to sympathy for the woman with the tight smile in what looks like a very heavy and itchy dress, and for the poor guy in the odd tunic sweater, who is thinking "Man, that summer roofing job is sounding a lot better than this modeling gig right now."

Does anyone know when the models in these kinds of ads started to look so self-conscious? There are models from the 50s doing equally goony things, if not even more so (lots of those ads involved men holding pipes!), and they look completely unaware of their potential to be targets of ridicule. When was the moment when people realized that pretending to dance in front of a camera was inherently silly, and stopped making a good-faith effort?

Anyway, check out the seller's author pattern auctions, if you are of the knitting persuasion. There are some incredibly sweet cardigans there, that if I were going to knit, I would jump all over. Especially that short-sleeve pointelle one …