Go check out this neato-keen Duroesque dress at The Sartorialist.

Someday lightning will strike and I will be wearing something attention-grabbing and fashion-forward yet classic and timeless on the same block as the Sartorialist when he has his camera out …

Thanks to Ju and Laura for the heads-up!

I get a lot of questions about how to sew. How can you make a skirt, a dress, a blouse? Where can you learn, is there a book, a class, what sewing machine do you need, etc.

I answer these questions cheerfully and in excruciating detail, of course, but sometimes I think that people are asking the wrong question. Before you ask HOW to do anything, you should always ask WHY.

My answer to "why", I realized, is not JUST because I'm a raging control freak who needs to be personally responsible for everything I put on my body, either in terms of creation or collation, but also because I love the way it feels to sew.

That's right. Sewing feels good. It feels good in the same sensual, atavistic way that holding a just-bathed baby feels good, and it feels good in the same disembodied, intellectual way that writing a computer program feels good.

There's the way the fabric feels before you wash it, and the way it feels after, and the way it feels when you're smoothing it with your hands, and the way it feels when you're smoothing it with a hot iron. There's the aha! moment when you have finally placed all the pattern pieces on the yardage, with nothing left out and everything on grain and square as it should be. There's the satisfying feel of of the sharp scissors biting through the warp and weft threads, the feel of those threads as they snap between the blades. There's the feel of slipping the pins through the layers, and the feel of taking them out.

There's the feel of the muscle tension in your hands as you guide the material through the machine, and the vibration of the machine, and the deep humming sound, like a cave full of bees, and the slightly burnt smell of machine oil and fabric dust. There's the release as the last stitch ends, and the sudden heaviness as the fabric is no longer supported on the table. There's the iron-feel again, as you press the seams flat. There's the way the fabric changes drape as it turns from flat yardage into a shaped garment.

There's the feel of the seam ripper stumbling through undoing what you've just done — sometimes that can be a very satisfying, spiteful feeling, an "I'll show YOU who's boss! feeling — and the feeling when the half-made dress goes on over your head the first time, when you're in front of the mirror, deciding if you have made all the right choices of fabric and pattern and construction that make fabric and pattern and construction into an actual DRESS.

There's the feeling, even, of putting everything away, the patterns in their boxes and the scissors on their hooks, and the two-step of turning off and unplugging the iron (belt and suspenders, belt and suspenders), clicking off the light above the machine and the light on the machine, feeling the potential energy of all the yards of fabric and patterns yet unfolded as they wait their turns.

That's how sewing feels.

(This pattern is B36 and only $5 at More of Macojero's Sewing Patterns!)

I'm saying both "Oh Schiap!" as an expletive, as this pattern (at Fuzzie Lizzie) is too small for me (it's B32), and "Ohhhhhhh Schiap!" as a kind of half-uttered dazed moan because this is absolutely beautiful. Without peer. The kind of dress that makes you think that there must be something to the notion that designers don't think the same way you and I do.

It's hard to tell, but if you look closely you'll see that THERE'S NO WAIST SEAM. Seriously, the front and back are each all one piece (it looks like) with a kind of shaping insert on the sides. That's gotta be a bitch and a half to sew but … look at the results!

Not only is it too small for me, it's $80. But it's worth it. If it were my size I'd be on it like a shot. I'd make it in a heavy silk — tawny yellow, lion-colored, or maybe a deep cafe-au-lait, or perhaps a grass green. Or even the dusty peacock of the pattern illustration. Something unusual, to be sure, and, for once, not a print. Nothing to obscure the lines of THIS dress!

Thanks to Lisa for sending me the link!

Quick note: because of nagging on the part of somebody and a hope that it will help pay my overuse charges at my host, I've added Google Adsense ads. I promise not to just start randomly mentioning high-demand, high-end brands like Prada, Marc Jacobs, Jimmy Choo, Burberry, Coach, etc. just to garner those big-dollar keywords. Seriously. I don't even LIKE Coach now that they're all-brand, all the time. Logo bags SUCK. Nor will I mention other stupid logo brands like the ubiquitous Louis Vuitton. C'mon — if you are fifteen and all the rest of your clothes came from Delia's and Alloy, do you really think you're fooling anyone with that fake LV logo bag? Stop buying knock-offs (and start buying something age-appropriate). Sigh. See what happened? I was all happy, talking about Schiaparelli, and it turned into a these-kids-today rant. While I'm being cranky, can I complain about the ugly 70s-throwback shoes?
These are so ugly I won't even give them a full-size picture! I swear, my CCD teacher in fifth grade wore these. And so every time I see them I want to start belting out "On Eagle's Wings." It's a serious problem! I can't reach those high notes anymore! Good thing there are still shoes like this (which not quite so incidentally would look WONDERFUL with this Schiaparelli dress:

Now THERE'S a shoe that deserves a full-size picture. (They're really cheap at Gotham City Online. Go ahead, click!)

Check out this great dress on eBay, link courtesy Robin … not sure what that print is? Want a closeup?

Yes, that's right! It's a deer print. Thank god it's a leeetle too small for me (B36/W25) although I might be tempted to buy it just to have it around. I would wear it with all camouflage accessories, NATURALLY.

If it's just right for you (and if your name actually IS Bambi you HAVE to buy this, seriously, I will take up a PayPal collection just to help you buy this) click on the image to check the eBay listing.

What are some other onomastically appropriate prints? Obviously, Robin should have little red-breasted birds (or Batman's young "ward") on her dresses. I should have shamrocks or "green clovers, blue diamonds, orange stars, pink hearts, and yellow moons," right? What about you? What's your name print?

It's Leg Liberation Day. Today is day where I begin wearing skirts every day. I mean, I wear skirts most of the time, but after about mid-April, or as soon as I can see my way clear to a few weeks of sixty-degree temperatures, the pants all disappear (the few pairs that I did wear) and it's nothing but skirts from now until late September or even early October (depending on the tights sitch).

This is a new skirt pattern I'm going to try soon — I like the contour waistband, it's very wearable and easily adjustable for those who like their skirts to ride higher or lower — and I'm looking forward to it immensely. I have all sorts of fabric ideas for this pattern … too many even to list!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go dig up all my peds, too, because Leg Liberation Day is also Jack Purcells Day (Observed), where I start wearing all my pairs of Jack Purcell sneakers again with the now-bare legs …

Okay, the painting from a couple days ago and this new listing Lisa just sent, are sparking little starbursts of shirtwaist energy. Like, could I make a stripey one, with a ribbon placket? A very sexy Italian-movie-star sheer black gauze version with wide lace inserts? A white pique? A cherry-red lightweight poplin with white rick-rack? A pink and white polka-dot? I probably won't get around to any of them … all those buttonholes are such a pain! But a girl can dream.

In the meantime, I suggest y'all check out this eBay auction. It's at Buy It Now for less than $25! B37, W 29. Quick like a bunny, now!

Isn't this a wonderful couple of dresses? And so lovely for Christmastime, too. That's why I love Australian magazines; the swap of the seasons is like a guaranteed perspective shift.

I can't decide if the yellow or the green is more Christmassy. Hard to tell. I do like the pairing of the cummerbund with the sweetheart neckline, though.

This is from Christine's 20th Century Fashion Page, which has tons of great images like this. (Warning, it also has pop-ups.) Really worth a visit!

Lisa has been sending me such great links to OTHER people's ebay auctions that I thought I'd check out hers. Holy Moly. I wish I could pull off this kind of dress! (I always look as if I'd snuck into somebody else's closet in the dead of night. I may still try again …)

Click on the image for the auction, which has other pictures, too. The print is turquoise and blue Hawaiian tiki artifacts, and it measures B36-38/W28-30, with a full circle skirt!

Oh, and I am REALLY enjoying all the book covers y'all are sending in. Keep 'em coming!

You know what? This cover would definitely make me pick this up in the bookstore. Yay, dresses!

I like the idea of having a Best Book Cover Dress contest. Do you guys want to start trolling Amazon, B&N, Powell's.com, Google Book Search etc. for cover images? The rules will be that the cover must show an obvious dress (no anonymous folds of fabric). Extra points for books (like this one) that show dresses but aren't ABOUT dresses.

I'll choose some finalists and y'all can vote. Then I'll pick the winning book, and its nominator will win their choice of the finalists, assuming they're still in print. (So you can pick crappy books with great covers and not get stuck with the book …)

Let's say the deadline is April 25. Ready, set, go!

From the moment I laid eyes on it, I wanted this pattern SO badly. So, about a month ago I gave in to the longing and I ordered it from The Blue Gardenia. I was going to make this for the conference I went to a couple weeks ago, but I was a little hesitant to spend sewing time on it, as it's so different from the necklines I usually wear. I started the red view, but I didn't do the final slog that would have been necessary to get it completed for that trip.

However, I finished it up last weekend and was so happy with it that I brought it on *this* trip. I was going to wear it today, but the weather here has not cooperated and I had to redeploy dresses to alternate days. So I'll wear it tomorrow, when it should be in the 50s. (With a little white cardigan and ankle-strap heels.) Here it is, in a very busy "aerial view of fields and houses" print.

And a closeup of the bodice:

It's really cute on and very comfortable — fits like a dream. I didn't do anything to the pattern other than narrow the waistline side seams a little for more wearing ease. I think (looking at the picture) that I cut the front skirt on the fold to eliminate the center front seam, but I can't remember. I wish I'd had time to make a matching belt (belts are very "directional" now, as my fashion magazine friends say) but I was happy just to be able to do the sleeve hems by hand.

I'm definitely going to make this again, maybe in a solid with a contrasting neck band. It would also be fun in polka dots, with the neck band (and maybe a band around the bottom of the skirt) in different polka dots (different-sized, or reversed in color) from the body of the dress. This would be a great pattern for someone who's a little smaller on top, as the gathers definitely add bulk for a very hourglassy effect. It constructed very easily — even the sleeves were easy to set in, and this was the first set of sleeves I put in after switching to a sewing machine without a free arm, so that's really saying something.

So: Dress A Day pattern grade: A+!