Every year, about this time, I think "I should put aside these frivolous cotton print dresses of summer, and make an entire wardrobe of sophisticated, narrow dresses in deep, solid colors." And I drag out this pattern again, and stare at it for a while. I'm fond of the cut of the red version. (The neck thing is a purchased scarf, not a sewn-in collar.) Doesn't that look like something Faye Dunaway would wear, in her role as an expert in international arms-treaty law? Or as the head of a multinational financial-services conglomerate?

I've never made this one. I buy (expensive) fabric to make it. I put it in the pile marked "Make Next." I have, on one or two occasions, dragged all the pieces out and pressed them, but I just can't bring myself to cut this sucker out. I delay and drag and then end up shoving them back in the pattern envelope. And then February rolls around and all I can think of making again is frivolous cotton print dresses.

It's a lovely pattern. Look at the seaming, the bell skirt, the POCKETS. (Click on the image to see all five views, including the marabou-trimmed evening version.) It's elegant, it's understated, in gray wool flannel and a black leather belt it would be irresistible. (In black leather with a gray flannel belt it would be really, really strange in a kind of Helmut Lang way.) And somehow I can't make it! I guess I'm just not the multinational financial-services conglomerate type.

There's only a couple of days left in this auction, so get on the stick, people! (This is another dress suggested by msbelle — thank you!) I love this print so very, very much. The seller calls it "camo" but unless you're standing in front of a wall of 1960s bathroom tile, I'm not sure how well you're going to blend in.

An aside: I love camo print. I really, really do. I love to make the girliest stuff out of it. (I have a camouflage circle skirt, for instance.) It suits my rather literal ironic sense. And I know that there was fad of girly camo a year or so ago but I Don't Care. I have right now, waiting to be sewn, three yards of pink camo jersey knit. And I have a pink silk camo bias dress waiting for me to Get the Goddamn Zipper Right Already. That one may need a "fixer." Anyway. This isn't camo, but it's close, and I love it.

The seller says the buttons need replacing. I'm thinking it would be lovely with transparent brown buttons, largish. Matching the brown in the print, of course.

Again: what are you waiting for? I'd buy it myself if it weren't on the largish side. (B41/W32). It's only $20 and there are no bids yet!

Most people who shop for vintage hate Halloween. That's when all the party-happy costume seekers descend upon the shops, buying up stuff they're just going to destroy. Lots of shop owners keep boxes of crappy polyester Brady Bunch clothes that only see daylight between the middle of September and All Saint's Day.

(Most people who sew hate Halloween, too, since the harried moms and dithering high-school students making costumes clog up the fabric stores, getting in the way and stressbombing all over the place.)

However — if you want a Halloween dress, and not just a Halloween costume, this sexy spiderweb-print is as good as it gets. (Sent by msbelle! Thank you!) And it fits with my favorite lazy Halloween costume: The Black Widow. Black 50s dress, black hat with veil, dramatic lipstick — instant costume!

Anyway, this is up on eBay; auction ends early next week. I think it's going to go for a premium. It's a decent size, if a little small in the waist (B36/W26) and in good condition. I'd recommend you snipe if you bid on this one!

It's probably a good thing that this stunner (sent to me by vintagecrochetgirl, thank you!) is already sold. I mean, I'm sure it was $100+, and I would have probably not been able to resist it even though it's a teensy bit too small, and then it would have just hung in my closet, mocking me. I mean, I already have more cocktail-wear than the hardest-drinking noir movie divorceé ever DREAMED of, and I work from home, I have a small(ish) child, and I don't even drink!

This isn't terribly noir; it's very "my husband is a VERY successful ad executive, and we're having his junior colleagues and their wives (and that poor bachelorette Miss Adams from the office, I hope she doesn't wear her glasses, they age her SO, poor dear) over for drinks." Don't you think?

Anyway, check out Kitty Girl Vintage, one-time home of this dress, which has TONS of amazing stuff, lots of Ceil Chapman and Trigere and other Big Names. Suitably priced, too, but if you need something amazing (and don't we all, at one time or another?) you'll get something amazing-er (I know one reader just had an aneurysm at that word, hee) for your dollars shopping vintage.

Years ago I held my breath and plopped down $80 (hey, I'm CHEAP when it comes to clothes) for a gorgeous navy.jpgnk-white atomic-print wiggle dress and it's gotten more wear than nearly anything else in my closet … (it was for the all-important college reunion). Even after buying pink shoes to go with it, it's still got an infinitesmal cost-per-wear ratio. And I'm happy whenever I wear it, and how can you put dollars on happiness? (I'm getting a new digital camera soon, nag me and I'll put up a picture.)

I really try not to post too many magazine-y dresses: you know, incredibly expensive, where-the-hell-would-I-wear-that designer-noodling, but (and you knew there was a but coming) this one, this one is SPECIAL. I could see wearing this one. That is, I could see wearing this one if the skies opened up and deposited nearly $1600 in small, unmarked bills at my feet. Think Net-a-Porter would let me pay in dirty singles?

Exhale. This wool jersey dress is by Roland Mouret. Net-a-Porter describes it as

Espresso below knee length square neck wool jersey dress with gathered cap sleeves and a knotted skinny leather belt. Dress has darting at waist on the front and back with tiny pleat detail underneath, visible panels at shoulders, button fastening slit on the back and a wide panel at hem. Lined in black stretch mesh and fastens at the back with a zip.

but that really doesn't do it justice. Just gaze at the picture. Gaze and enjoy.

Needless to say, I wouldn't wear it with pointy-toed shoes. Round toes only, please. And it would be lovely with a camel coat and a moss green bag. Both of which I happen to already have. You know, just in case the skies do open up. Going outside now …

At first sight, it was total infatuation. It was the second look that made me say "nah …" to this expensive-ish ($295) dress from Neiman Marcus. It certainly makes an excellent first impression. The garnet color, the way it aggressively outlines (and most likely creates) an hourglass shape … on the model, it's a beautiful dress.

However … on me, or on a lot of women like me (ha! we are LEGION) those gathers over the hip wouldn't lie down and behave. They cooperate nicely on this angular example of modern femininity, but on us old-school examples, I'm not so sure they would. I'm thinking the ruching under the arms would be irritating and bunchy. And as lovely as wide necklines as these are to contemplate, the undergarment-wrangling they require make them not worth the effort (for me, at least–your undergarment-wrangling-tolerance levels may vary).

Besides — it's 50% rayon 40% polyester! My polyester tolerance is LOW.

So. I won't be ruching (hey, it's my blog and I'll pun if I want to) to buy this dress. But don't let me talk you out of it. I think that if you are leanish and want curves, this is the dress for you. If you have a pre-existing curves condition, maybe … not so much.

Okay, aside from the fact that it seems to be an embryonic Susan Dey in this picture, I'm not sure this two.jpgece dress has all that much redeeming value. I mean, doesn't this it look like something that keeps you safe during shipping? It's called a bubble stitch but I believe they left out the word "wrap."

I'm not a huge fan of crocheted dresses (or knitted ones, either, for that matter, remember the Technofur dress?) but this one seems more egregious than the usual run. You'd be so … bumpy. I'd be worried about people trying compulsively to POP you. Not for the ticklish or those with a strong sense of personal space.

If you want to make this, though, and can fit in to a 1970s size 12 (or can scale it up, I know there are a lot of crocheters that read this) click on the picture to visit the pattern instructions.

This dress pattern is uncut, which means it seemed like a good idea at the time, but turned out not to be one. My first reaction was "whoa! cool sleeves!" but then came the question — how do they stay up in those perfect points? I don't think that string in a couple of the views is a style variation — I think it's an engineering concession.

I can't imagine that this dress would be anything other than a nightmare to wear. You'd be fiddling with it constantly, which violates my strict "if you can't wear it and forget it, forget it" policy when it comes to dresses.

The other thing that probably seemed like a good idea at the time was listing this pattern for $50. C'mon! I've seen wedding gown patterns by famous designers not listed for that much. $50 for this, which is pretty much unwearable? NOT as good of an idea as it seemed. Anyway, if you want it, click on the picture. Maybe you can email and offer $20, which would still be outrageous, but within the bounds of possibility. It's B39, by the way.

Whoa. I love *all* the dresses at TrashyDiva.com. I love them with a deep and all-encompassing love. I don't think there's a single one that I wouldn't gladly wear to rags.

This particular dress, though, (the "Kabuki") hits all my current obsessions in color, fabric, and cut. I'm a little dismayed that it only goes up to a size M, but perhaps the larger sizes have already sold out — this would be even MORE of a knockout on fuller figures. It's $238, which is pricey, but it's silk all the way through, and … just LOOK at it!

There's a huge sale section right now, and of course, Trashy Diva is based in New Orleans, so you'll be supporting the reconstruction of the Gulf Coast if you buy from them. It's practically your civic duty. (Note: their site says they can take only Paypal for the next few days.)

I was also entranced by their shoes (Princess Moonbeam, check out the pointy-toe button boots!). I'm actually afraid to look at their lingerie, for fear of being overcome with desire (which I guess is the actual point of lingerie, but usually it's one step further removed …)

Thanks to the indefatigable Madelene for the link!

(Especially when they're this small — sorry for the teen-einsy picture!). No, really, as if I didn't already have enough patterns to clothe every B36 woman in the lower 48, without repeats, I'm looking at this one — Vogue 7820.

However, I have my doubts. Recent painful experience has enlightened me that a blousy top and a narrow waist combined with a full skirt makes me look like a particularly bizarrely decorated fireplug. At least in pictures. Sigh.

So I'm thinking that despite all the things I like about it (kimono sleeves [for ease of making], defined midriff, fuller skirt, surplice bodice with small darts) that I should probably pass this one by. Besides, I'd have to change the back zip to a side zip, which is always a pain in the ass. The time would probably be better spent running up a half-dozen fall skirts, considering the stock I've laid in of charcoal corduroy, moss flannel, and orange twill! Mmmm … pumpkin orange twill.

But — isn't it nice? Wouldn't it be gorgeous in a dark mulberry, with the neckline edged in black tatting, and a slightly shorter skirt? Worn with tights and boots? Maybe I could sew it one size down in something with a little stretch. Talk me into it, folks. C'mon. I know you can. Lydia, when's the next Vogue patterns sale at Hancock?