Sometimes, when people discover that I prefer dresses — that, in fact, I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about dresses — they are instantly suspicious. "What do you have against pants?" they ask. "Do you hate pants?"

"No," I reply, in a calm, even voice. "I don't hate pants. I wear pants a lot. I just prefer skirts and dresses, that's all."

They often don't believe me, in the same way that some vegans secretly believe that people who eat meat must not like tofu. They won't believe a preference for one thing doesn't automatically lead to a hatred for the opposite. They believe that a liking for Dr. Pepper signals an anti-Mr. Pibb agenda or possibly vendetta; that a fondness for the color blue means you secretly hate orange.

You know what? Those doubters may be right, because last night I almost started to hate pants.

Check out this first pair:

OMG the fug! The dropped waist! The pindots! The pegged legs! The horror!

But then, I saw these.

At first, I only saw the polka dots–I was intrigued! I reached out! Then I actually — and I have a witness — shrieked in dismay. Nobody, but nobody, should wear polka-dot leggings. There oughta be a law. In fact, the manufacture, distribution, or sale of polka-dot leggings should be illegal in the 48 contiguous states, and highly restricted, at the very least, in Hawaii, Alaska, Puerto Rico, and Guam.

But oh, the Day of Pants Horror (or, as it is also styled, El Dia de Pantalones de Terror) continued with these white monstrosities:

Now, if that one isn't enough to make you fall to your knees and beg your dresses for forgiveness, I don't know what would.

So. My faith in my open-mindedness in regard to pants-wearing (of the literal, not metaphorical kind) has been shaken by seeing THREE Pants of the End Times in one day. That's gotta be a sign, and not a good one. If I see dead birds tomorrow, or there's an eclipse, or lots of people in acid-washed denim bustier sundresses, I'll know it's all over and I'll make my plans for the eschaton. In fact, those plans will probably involve a new dress …

Jen (from Mom's Patterns) sent me this picture of a Duro-esque dress … it's very close, and honestly, if it were my size I might have jumped at. If it were my size, and not a MATERNITY DRESS, I would have.

Ah, maternity clothing. Ugh, maternity clothing. I know, I know, it gets cuter every year, and those of you who had kids in the 1970s or earlier can go ahead and tell me in the comments about the bows and the infantilizing details and the sheer impossibility of finding anything not shudder-inducing. I actually had some nice things (I recommend Japanese Weekend — secondhand if you can find it, that stuff's spendy) but the monotony of wearing the same five things day in and day out was soul-deadening, for the most part. I did enjoy wearing a bright orange shirt that, in my eighth month, made me look like The Great Pumpkin, come to give all the good girls and boys presents on Halloween. (Too bad it was February.)

Anyway, if I could get past the maternity stigma (it's like getting food poisoning from something and not ever being able to eat it again, that's how I feel about maternity clothing) I might even think about making this. Of all the views in the pattern above, I like the center one. I hate beige in all of its guises, so I would make it in cherry red or bright green with a contrasting band, maybe floral, maybe geometric, and if anyone asked if I were pregnant again, I'd smile, say no, and thank them for being interested.

And, while we're here: NancyKay sent me two links you all MUST know about. First, this from the Sartorialist. Somehow, I think the woman in that picture and I would have a LOT to talk about. Next, this. EVERY COLOR OF TIGHTS (and FISHNETS) ever. And not at break-the-bank prices, either! My favorite orange fishnets have given up the ghost and I was despairing of finding replacements. And now: despair gone! (Just like pie.)

Maybe I could wear fishnets with the maternity dress, as an "I'm NOT pregnant" signifier. (Although they probably make maternity fishnets now.)

Check out this amazing painting, "Shirtwaists" by James Rieck. Click on the image to see his other work. I love this realler-than-real style and the headless bodies. And, of course, the dresses.

Thanks to George Spencer for the link!

Wow. Okay, more thanks to Lisa, who sent me this link. It's an eBay auction, and it's *nice*. And a good size, too (B38/W32). I'm really tempted to bid, so I'm posting it so that I don't hit that little "place bid" button. Instead, I'm going to look for a similar fabric and make a dress LIKE this, only without a button front or princess seaming. I have a great pattern with little cap sleeves that would be PERFECT. And I might edge the neckline, sleeves, and hems in narrow black trim to set it off a bit more, too.

Now I just have to find a fabric like this fabric. I'm thinking I'll be haunting upholstery shops for a while. If you see anything like this, let me know, okay?

Well, as you may or may not know, I've made more than 325 entries in this blog, nearly every one about dresses. I think I'm running out of strident assertions of indefensible opinions, and I want to expand the focus of the blog a bit.

In fact, I'd like to take up the banner of one of the most misunderstood and unfairly deprecated pieces of clothing known to man and woman — the spandex catsuit. Take a look at this one — who wouldn't want to wear it and stride confidently down the quotidian streets like a Centauri colossus? I can't imagine a situation that wouldn't be improved by showing up in this. Weddings (bride, groom, bridesmaid, OR guest — hey, it's not black!), funerals, job interviews, you name it. You don't even need accessories; it's complete and self-contained. And, a huge bonus point — because the gloves are merely bifurcated (they're like mittens with a plus-one) if you wear this to client meetings no one will dare ask you to type or even take notes!

Anyway, I'll still post about dresses from time to time, but I think from now on the spandex catsuit (especially those with a fantasy bent) will be the main focus of this blog. Like this one — isn't this an awesome print?
Absolutely gorgeous. And such a savings in terms of not needing makeup or hairstyling!

Sadly, I'm not finding a lot of patterns for these styles, and I haven't sewn with spandex, leather, pleather, mesh, vinyl, or neoprene before, so there's going to be a bit of a learning curve before I can post pictures of my own Katsuit Kreations (isn't that a cool name? I'm thinking of trademarking it!). But stay tuned!

And, of course, a major part of the new focus will be elaborate animated GIF birthday shout-outs. So, readers, email me your birthdays now! I just wish I'd gotten my act together in time to do a hopping bunny, a giant spinning fish (or maybe the banana from "Peanut Butter Jelly Time" — warning, that link NSFSanity) for FRANCIS, who was lucky enough to be born today, April Fool's Day …

Meredith was kind enough to send me an oblique reference to Lord Whimsy, which of course I pounced upon like a ravening police bloodhound. And I was not disappointed. In fact, I think I might have a slight but pervasive crush on Lord Whimsy, for several reasons. For one, he wears green ties (love!). For another, he says stuff like this:

What I find personally distasteful is when people add to the banality of daily life by not putting anything of themselves into their appearance. When they do put thought into it, it’s often a regurgitation of someone else’s idea of style, letting brand names do the work for them when they could come up with a much more tasteful outfit at a fraction of the cost. We now live in a time when jeans, t-shirts and sunglasses can run into the hundreds of dollars, yet it amazes me how such expensive items can look so cheap. The most tastefully dressed person in a room is now sometimes the one who has spent the least money on his or her clothes, but has expended the most thought.

Which is quite like what I said a few days ago, only I didn't say it as well. Click on the image for more such Whimsy.

He has a new book coming out in August. Which happens to be the month of my birth. Coincidence? I think NOT.

Well, thanks to Lisa, I was at the Diane von Furstenberg site, and saw this. Hoo boy, do I love this fabric. The dress is just 'eh', but the FABRIC — who doesn't want to swan around in artichokes bigger than one's head?

Somewhere, I'm sure, there is a fabric store with some roll-ends of this, the proprietors shaking their heads and wondering how they're ever going to get rid of it. I mean, it's not even right for quilting, and quilters will buy anything. (No, seriously. Think of the most appalling fabric possible — maybe dead babies, outlined in gold paint — and someone, somewhere, will have made it, and someone else will have bought it and done a quilt themed around it, and complained that there wasn't matching thalidomide baby fabric to REALLY set it off.) But perhaps this fabric store will be innovative and google "artichoke fabric", whereupon they will find ME, and they will email me to ask if I'm interested, and I will buy six yards and make an enormous circle-skirted artichoke dress and matching artichoke bolero (with the biggest artichoke very carefully centered over the back so as to make people walking behind me ravenously hungry) and I will be happy for the rest of my days.

Hey, it could happen, right? I'm not looking at how much this dress costs, because I don't want to be doing the mental math about how POSSIBLY I could buy one (or three) and take them apart for the fabric. Sheesh.

So: thanks to Lisa for the crazy-making, not that I needed all that much help, actually, and thanks to DVF for GIANT ARTICHOKES!

The amazing Helen in the UK sent me a link to her dress take on the New Look 6515 blouse pattern — isn't it great? (Now I really want to make the one I talked about here.)

Helen also let slip in her email (but I didn't pick up on it until now) that her MOTHER owns a FABRIC STORE. That is the coolest thing ever.

Anyway, she says this one is patterned viscose (that's rayon to us on this side of the Atlantic) and chinese silk, and that next time she'll make the midriff band wider. She also said she made it in two days, but don't hate her because she's talented and the dress is beautiful.

In order to get this effect, not only do you have to put a skirt on the blouse pattern, you also have to flip the facings to the outside, which needs a fairly steady hand for the topstitching. But, as you can see, it's worth it. I really want to get organized and do the paisley one linked above, and also a Liberty one in brown and maroon. (Yes, it's almost spring, which means I think it's a FINE time to do a brown and maroon wool dress. Me = Idiot. But the heart wants what it wants.)

This makes TWO dresses inspired (at least in part) by my Duro obsession. (Remember Caroline's?) Keep 'em coming, folks!

Thanks to Sarah Mitchell for this image.

The dress and hat are by designer Andre Tan, and were shown at Kiev's Fashion Week. (Don't even breathe "Kiev has a fashion week?" unless you WANT to be inundated with stirring nationalistic email from the Ukraine.)

I like the dress quite a bit, but I'm not so sure about the hat. First of all, I'd be completely frustrated by this both as a wearer and as an onlooker. How could I read it either way, unless the person wearing it was exactly the right height to put this at my eye level? And are you allowed to turn the page of a book when it's resting on someone else's head, or is that an invasion of their personal space? And is it removable, so that you can coordinate the content your bookhat to the rest of your outfit? Obviously, I'd like to wear retro cookbooks or romantic-advice books with some of my 1950s dresses, steampunk science fiction with my more future-Victorian outfits (okay, I don't HAVE any future-Victorian ensembles, but if I could wear a book on my head to match you'd know damn sure I'd get some!) and so on. The Great Gatsby with a white linen shift dress. Catch-22 with anything with militaristic detailing. Oh, god, stop me! Stalky & Co. with schoolboy chic. Clan of the Cave Bear with anything furry.

Anyway: too many questions, not enough answers. And even if all the answers were in THAT BOOK, I'd never know!

Probably one of my biggest pet peeves is designers who mess up good prints. Look at this number from Alessandro Dell'Acqua. This is a really gorgeous, elegant print, and he ruined it. Why the neckline approaching the navel? Why the gathers enlarging the waist? Why the blousyness? I just want to take the man by the shoulders and shake him, yelling "Hey! Why? What do you have against letting prints be prints? For the love of god, man, why?"

If I had access to significant yardage of this, I'd make a dress with high round neck and little cap sleeves, with either a 3/4 circle skirt or a pencil skirt. Something very simple, so that the print carried all the work of the dress. This the dress equivalent of a committee working at cross-purposes. Somehow the working group on fabric didn't check in with the neckline subcommittee, and, once they discovered the problem, both groups got pigheaded and wouldn't budge. It's a shame, really.