Are these, or are they not, insufferably adorable? Seriously, these are the cutest things I've seen since my son was two.

And I know, I know, I've sworn undying devotion to the shoes of Jack Purcell, but a girl can LOOK, can't she?

I think it's the extremely low vamp, which I think always looks feminine and dainty. (YES, no matter HOW big your feet are. Seriously.) In fact, this reminds me of a holy-grail pair of shoes: the very-low-vamp saddle shoe. There was a girl in my junior high who had a pair, and damned if I can remember her name, what she looked like, whether she was even in any of my classes … but I remember the low-cut two-tone saddle shoes she had. In detail. It was a sad, sad day when I finally figured out where she got them (Thom McAn! Back when they had standalone stores!) and got my folks to take me to the mall … only to find they were sold out of my size.

Anyway, nostalgic digression aside, these are some darn cute sneakers. (Click on the image if your first reaction is OMG MUST HAVE NOW.) And if you were one of the folks who emailed me last summer about what sneakers go well with skirts? Here's the answer. (But, purist that I am … I'd put laces in 'em.)

I spent a few hours yesterday moving the winter clothes OUT and the summer clothes IN. This involves a great deal of dusting, both mental and physical. (For instance, why did I let another year pass without wearing my turquoise shantung hostess coat?)

Every time I make this switch I *vow* that I will finally pare down my closet to essentials. Just a few well-chosen pieces, blah blah blah. The truth is that I am not a "few well-chosen pieces" kinda gal. I am the kind of gal that has fifty cotton summer dresses and wears a different one every day, if she can.

However, I *am* getting rid of a few things, such as this brown-and-gold wool crepe wiggle dress. I made it several years ago (maybe even five or six?) and wore it, I dunno, once. I was having a wiggle-dress moment, back then; I don't know why. (Perhaps it was the joy of no longer looking mildly pregnant?) Anyway, I spent a lot of time on it and figured I should now set it free to live a full life with someone who will love it the way it ought to be loved.

Here's a closer view of the bodice:

The points on the tabs are a little lumpy, I have to say. Luckily the buttons are so nice (vintage!) that it draws the eye away.

This dress measures B 36-38, W 32, H 46, and the skirt is 28 inches waistline to hem. From the front neckline to the waist is 13.5 inches; from the back neckline to the waist is 14 inches.

So here's the plan: I'm going to put it up on eBay, at a very very low starting bid. If it sells for that, fine. But if it sells for anything upwards of $25, anything over that will go to charity — I'm thinking helping victims of rape in the Congo. How does that sound?

Here's the link: Brown Crepe Wiggle Dress.

Carol, a little while back, sent me THREE BOXES of patterns. Just because. (I know, am I lucky, or what?)

The boxes were FULL of treasures, but this one in particular caught my eye, even though I'm not a huge devotee of this era. But look at those gathers, and the sweet curve of the neckline!

So the plan is to go ahead and make the bodice, slap it onto a plain circle skirt, and see what happens. I'll have to change the waistline gathers to small darts (I don't like blousiness at my waist), and there will be some fiddling involved with the sizing (this is a B32; I … am not). However, I figure that the 1940s propensity for shoulderpads will work in my favor; by leaving them out I will get more room through the shoulder seam and the gathers should help with fullness over the bust. (And I have the "make the waist bigger" alteration down pat.)

I'm sure La BellaDonna could tell me why I want to put a circle skirt on this one — I think this straight-skirt cut is probably fine for those shaped like Rulers and Vs, but I need more sweep in the skirt to balance out what I insist is an Hourglass (but may in fact be a Pear — or perhaps just an Hourglass that needs to be flipped over?)

The only thing I can't decide is what fabric to use. I was thinking "huge floral!" (because I always think "huge floral!") but this might also be adorable in, say, gingham. Or seersucker. Or even eyelet. Ideas?

Oh, if you want to see the back of the pattern, it's here.

The Liberty fabric above costs roughly $45/yard, slightly less if you're a lucky eBay bidder (click on the image if you feel lucky, punk). And though I often recommend that if you possibly can, you should sew with Liberty prints, many people tell me that they couldn't possibly cut into such expensive fabric — even people who have been sewing for many more years than I have, even people who have made tailored jackets, for pete's sake. They're too afraid they'll screw it up.

So I was wondering about this, and decided (very uncharacteristically for me) to do the math. So let's say you buy fabric for four Liberty-print dresses: that's ($45*4 yds)*4, which would be $720.00.

And let's say that you ruin, beyond hope of recovery, ALL FOUR of your Liberty-print projects. That's a lot of money wasted, right? That's a month's rent for some people. Two or three car payments, maybe. Months of groceries, depending on how many teenage boys are in your household.

It's also 5.76 $125 dresses bought at a department store. (I'm taking $125 NOT as the median department-store dress price, but because it's the absolute maximum price I think I could bring myself to pay for a new dress off the rack.) Have you bought more than 6 dresses in your life that you didn't like? That you wore once, maybe? That hung in your closet until you pushed them into the forgiving arms of the Salvation Army? (Replace "$125 dress" with "$45 sweater" and "6" with "more than I want to recall" and you have MY experience.) What did you learn from buying those dresses? A lot less than you would have learned from trying to sew them, I wager.

Here I'm assuming (highly unlikely) that you would be unable to salvage anything that you had sewn … but I'm also assuming (highly likely) that you would learn a GREAT DEAL from four sewing projects, even if they were all sobbing failures. So much so that with the *next* project, you would most likely make something wearable.

That's just what failure is, or what it ought to be: failure is just figuring stuff out the hard way.

Almost every Saturday morning my little boy and I go roller-skating together. And every Saturday I tell my son (who HATES to fall down) that if he doesn't fall down, he won't learn anything. If you don't fall, you won't ever know how fast is too fast, how tight is too tight to take a turn, how soon (after a mega-blast blue-raspberry Slurpee) is too soon to head back to the floor. And if you don't screw up something — anything — in your life, you won't ever know how good you could have been.

So I *hate* it when someone tells me they don't want to try something because they might screw it up. So what? Unless what you're trying to do involves tightrope walking 5000 feet up, you probably won't DIE. And short of death, almost everything is fixable. Don't ask me for advice if that's not what you want to hear, because I'm the person who is going to tell you to take the new job, to ask the guy (or girl) out already, to move to the new city, to wear orange. I'll tell you to stop focusing on what you might lose, and start thinking about what you might LEARN.

Sometimes when people say they're afraid of failure, what they really mean is that they are afraid of humiliation. Which is completely understandable. But, speaking as someone who has felt humiliated more times than she'd like to remember, humiliation passes. (It passes like a kidney stone passes, but that's another story.) Not to mention that humiliation passes differently for each person: you remember it for months; the witnesses remember it for seconds (they have their own humiliations to obsess over, and don't have time for yours). You wake up the next morning, same as always. You head back into work, you run into that guy again ("Uh, hi!"), you get a new haircut to fix the one that wasn't such a good idea, after all. But at least you tried, and now you know something you didn't know before.

Or … you try, and it works! It works beyond your wildest dreams. (Insert wildest dreams here.) Even if it works a little bit short of your wildest dreams, that's still further along than you were yesterday. And there's no rule that you can't try again.

So, that thing? That thing you've been scared to try, because you think there's NO POSSIBLE WAY you could do it? That everyone would point and laugh when you fell? Today looks like an EXCELLENT day to give it a shot. Take it from me. (Everyone's looking the other way, anyway.) Go for it!

And if you're going to do it, you might as well wear something orange while you do. (I'm just saying.)

I swear I was going to post about something other than shirtdresses today, but Mary Fran sent me the link to this one, and I could not resist. It's up at MOMSPatterns and it's only $8.50. (And it's only not MINE because it's a B39, and if there's anything I hate more than grading UP, it's grading DOWN.)

I love the little pointy collar, the front skirt seams just scream "pocketize me!" and those gathers at the shoulder just make me swoon. I should add "shoulder gathers" that to the list of my "triggers"—isn't it true that once you're aware of your triggers, you can change them (if you want to)? My trigger list would probably read "penny loafers, robots, sarcasm, Peter Pan collars, synthesized handclaps, Adidas Gazelles (on guys), books that smell like old books, red lipsticks (which I never wear) …" Actually, looking over that list, I don't think I want to change any of those triggers. (Except maybe to start wearing the damn lipstick.) Oh, well.

Before I forget I should let y'all know that Janet at Lanetz Living is going to Mexico. Why should you care that Janet is going to Mexico? Because she's using it as an excuse to have a sale! You can take 25% off on all orders from now until she comes home next Tuesday. The sale will end at Midnight (CST) on 5/6/08. Use the coupon discount code "Mexico25". It needs to be entered on the shipping page as one word. (If you try to put a space between Mexico and 25 it will not work.) And, as always, Janet offers free shipping with 3 or more patterns … and patterns will continue to ship out while Janet's on the beach.

Oh — I really like the idea of Sept. 1 being "wear a dress day," as proposed in the comments on yesterday's post. Let's start working on the logistics, people!

Yes, I did see the NYT article about the "demise of the dress". (I was actually surprised that the story didn't make the NYT's most-forwarded list, since so many people sent it to me!)

The main point of the article seemed to be that those in the fashion industry are tired of dresses, and are looking towards pushing "the pant" for fall. Yes, even though the article touts dresses as "glamorous", "easy", "slimming", "efficient", "flattering", and "attractive", (not to mention the obligatory nod to the patriarchy with "guys like [them]") their time is UP.

In fact, Anne Slowey, of Elle, was quoted saying that the "expiration date" for the dress “is end of August.”

Which gives me, what, 124 days, more or less? Is "PantADay.com" already taken?

No, no, no, don't worry — I've made it this far without taking the pronouncements of the fashion editors seriously, and I think I can struggle through an autumn where "the full-legged, pleated high- and low-waisted legions will be out in the urban jungle" (as Ms. Slowey put it).

But if, like me, you are going to continue wearing dresses past 31 August, there are some strategies for getting through this difficult time of dress shortages and rationing. The most obvious work-around is to learn to sew, so that you simply don't care what's in the stores (aside from the fabric stores). If you don't think you can swing that by the end of August, you should start looking to buy vintage. Don't wait until October when the shortages will be most acute; start searching now — especially if you're an odd size. If you are shopping for velvet in July you won't have many competing bidders, and you can ward off the tragedy of having to wear pants to all your holiday parties.

Don't forget the downturn in accessories availability that accompanies a dress shortage, as well: tights may be in short supply, along with slips of all kinds and full-skirted coats. It's a little trickier to predict what will happen with shoes, but if you want taller boots, they tend to be harder to find in an environment where dresses are scarce.

With some careful planning you should be able to continue dress-wearing activities well past the expiration date forecast by Ms. Slowey and her ilk. And, while they're waiting in line at the tailor to get things taken in and let out and taken up and let down (pants are notoriously NOT one-size-fits-all), you can swan by in your easy, nicely-fitting dress. Don't forget to thumb your nose as you pass.

[photo from GEL 2008 by the fantastic Gene Driskell; L to R: Michael Montes, yours truly, Bran Dougherty-Johnson]

I know y'all are always clamoring for pictures of me wearing the dresses I make, and I know I have been consistently disappointing on that front. (I would do so more often if I weren't too lazy to go get a tripod to use with my camera. Also, I never know what to reply to the inevitable comments of "Erin, I thought you'd be taller.")

But here, ta-dah, is a brand-new dress that I made to wear to last week's GEL conference. (If you don't know the GEL conference, it is my great pleasure to introduce it to you — go check out the link above! Watch the videos! Pressure your employer to send you next year!)

This is made from some fabric I bought from Reprodepot, but which seems to be missing from their site now. And the pattern is Butterick 7513, which sews up like a dream. So easy! (I left off the sleeve bands, though, as I thought they'd be bulgy under a cardigan.)

What you can't see in the photo is that the buttons are covered in scraps of a different-scale black-and-white alphabet print. (You also can't see how hard Michael was making me laugh a few minutes earlier.)

This was a two-alphabet-dress trip for me; I wore the blue letter-and-number print dress the next day. Eventually I suppose I'll have made enough alphabet-print dresses that I can wear nothing but fonts for a week straight, and will have completed my descent into caricature.

Last week I got this wonderful email from Clarissa, who wanted to tell me about her first major project: her junior prom dress.

Not just any junior prom dress: Clarissa, as so many of us are, is infatuated with Audrey Hepburn, and she wanted to recreate (on a scale appropriate for a junior prom) this iconic dress from "Sabrina":

With some help from her mom (a former home-ec teacher — thanks mom!), Clarissa modified a Vogue pattern to get this:

Isn't it lovely? The overskirt attaches by a waistband, so it can be removed for less-formal occasions. I love that Clarissa didn't try to completely recreate the Audrey dress (that way lies tears, I tell you — it probably took a team of people three months to make that dress) but concentrated on the essential elements: the sheath and overskirt, the colors, and the embroidery. (Clarissa had the front embroidery done professionally, as she doesn't have an embroidery sewing machine.)

And she was so smart to turn it into a sheath with straps; I wore a strapless dress to a prom once and spent the whole night tugging it UPWARDS. Not what you want to be doing at prom!

In short, well done! I'm especially impressed by any young lady who chooses to look so elegant, when there are so many options to look … not-elegant.

Also: those are really cute shoes.

I know the general perception is that I am cornering the market on shirtdresses, but I swear that is not true. As evidence, I present these patterns that I have not (and probably will not — probably) buy:

This one, from Miss Helene's, is really cute. I love the faux-western yoke. But I am NOT BUYING IT.

And this one,

Sent by Deb, and available from BootyVintage, is really elegant and sophisticated. (Probably too elegant and sophisticated for me, as those of you who know me will attest.) So it's available to YOU!

Both TCarole and Deirdre left comments pointing out this one, which is a new Vogue pattern, and so is available both at the Vogue Patterns site and in major fabric stores:

And William N. pointed out this one, at Cemetarian:

Just the thing for when you can't decide between a wrap dress and a shirtdress.

So, see? I haven't bought the ALL. There's plenty left for you guys!

[Update: But that Butterick 7373 at Vintage Martini? Was already sold! Sob.]

I get a lot of email now from people who are new to sewing, and who want (for some reason) my advice. Just last week I got a very kind email from Elizabeth, who wanted me to help her choose between two patterns.

Now, usually, my advice is just to buy both, to avoid regret, but I went and looked at her pattern choices. Her choice B was unremarkable (and a little difficult for a first project) but her choice A … I fell in love.

If her choice A had been in a romantic comedy, I would have been in the role of matchmaker, and this would have been the perfect guy … who then asked to be set up with my best friend. Hijinks would ensue.

But, I hear you asking, how lovely WAS choice A? Here, you tell me:

Now, giving advice to newbies is a sacred trust, and even though the dress was up for auction on eBay, I couldn't go and snipe it! That wouldn't be sporting! So I appeal to you all — does anyone have a copy of this for sale? B36, by preference?

At least I am consoled by the thought that one new sewist is going to have a very happy first dress!