Can anyone tell me? Preferably someone in the Central or Eastern time zones? I am most impressively jetlagged, the kind of jetlagged that I most associate with people who are abducted in spy movies. I was mildly surprised to wake up this morning in a hotel room, and not, in fact, duct-taped to an aluminum chair.

However, I am aware enough of my surroundings to find and admire this pattern:

I'm intrigued by the hem ruffle lately, especially the half-hem ruffle. Just enough, you know, and no more. An admirable sufficiency. I think I'd leave the bows off this one … unless I could make them out of wired ribbon so that I'd have a handy lockpick/garotte in the unlikely eventuality that I ever DID wake up duct-taped to an aluminum chair.

Click on the image to visit the auction listing (from Dama Fortuna Vintage). It's a BuyItNow, though, so don't be surprised if it's already gone when you get to it. (I'm not buying it — in my jetlagged state I shouldn't be trusted with the purchase of so much as a pair of socks.)

A couple of folks have emailed me about their tape measures: some went out before I went to Tokyo/Taipei … the rest will be mailed on Thursday, when I am finally home. If you don't have yours by now, you're probably in the Thursday cohort, unless you are Not in the U.S. (although I tried to mail the international ones first as they are probably going to take the longest in transit).

Thursday … that's tomorrow, right? I hope so. I'd hate to misplace a Wednesday, they're so hard to come by …

Do you know what has always been one of my pet peeves? Brides who get married in the dead of winter in strapless or spaghetti-strap gowns. I know, I know, it's YOUR DAY, and you can do whatever you want, but is "whatever you want" to go around with goosebumps in all your pictures and a honeymoon with a brand-new head cold? (And no, a shawl doesn't really work.) I always think "Oh, she looks so beautiful … and she'd look even better if she wasn't shivering …"

Enter a dress like this, which is so gorgeous I almost want Mr. Dress A Day and I to renew our vows so I could get away with making (and wearing) it. (Although it's a BIT ostentatious for a vow-renewal …)

I'd make it in peau de soie, maybe with little white velvet buttons (or, ooh, ooh, white velvet *piping* and midriff band).

If you're getting married in early 2008, you probably have plenty of time to make this or have this made (I'd wait until the weather cools off a bit before tackling velvet, but that's just me, still in Taipei, where it's 90F and even thinking about velvet leads to heatstroke).

The special bonus you January brides will get for picking a dress like this, and not something strap- or sleeveless? You won't have to spend every minute of the next five months doing (or thinking you should be doing) triceps dips.

Allyson sent me a link to this dress that was wandering around the Comic-Con in San Diego. Well, it was being worn by this person above, not wandering around on its own (hey, it's Comic-Con, you never know …) The WB gave out enormous Smallville promo bags, and this enterprising person made a dress out of one (possibly two)! (Here's another Smallville-themed bag-dress.)

I've never gone to a Comic-Con (not for lack of interest, mind you) and now I think I really need to wrangle an excuse to go. Doesn't anyone need a dress-themed on-the-ground report from Comic-Con?

Allyson sending me this dress allows me to do something I've been meaning to do for a while, which is rave over her book, Will The Vampire People Please Leave the Lobby? (And not just because I'm mentioned in it.) Seriously, when Allyson told me she was working on a book, I think my first reaction was a pumped fist in the air, because, not only does Allyson have the best stories, Allyson is also one of the Best People. Allyson is why God made the internet, so you could meet people like Allyson. Allyson's book is "about" Buffy the Vampire Slayer fandom, but what it's *really* about is how the internet makes it possible to meet the long-lost friends you never knew before. About how communities arise around the strangest interests, like Buffy, or, you know, dresses.

If you like this blog, you should probably thank Allyson (by buying her book, see link above), because without her and the people like her (and the people who like her) I wouldn't have started hanging out online, and I wouldn't have started blogging, and I'd spend my time doing whatever it was I did before I blogged. (I can't even remember what that was … nothing special, I'm sure.)

So thanks Allyson, for the link. And for you!

Thanks to multiple recommendations and quite explicit directions, I made it to the legendary Tomato fabric store in Nippori Textile Town. That's the cotton floor, above.

I had a great time in Tokyo. There's something exhilarating about being completely on your own in a strange city where you don't speak a word, not one single word, of the language. All it needed was for me to be pursued by shadowy underworld figures out to kill me for it to be a major motion picture. (Although having the plot be "shadowy underworld figures try to stop Erin from buying fabric" probably wouldn't make it past the first script meeting.)

Anyway, despite having to take the slow train back to Narita late Monday night (I missed the last express), I managed to go everywhere I wanted *and* get back to the airport in time to make my flight to Taipei.

Here's what I bought:

And some more:

Whoops, almost forgot one piece:

(Boy, am I glad I packed the spare duffel bag!)

So, from the top down — probably the most "Japanese" of the fabric I bought, the little birds and trees on heavy cotton. Heavier than quilting cotton, anyway. I deliberately didn't buy anything self-consciously Japanese: no kanji prints, no geishas, no "Engrish" writing. I wanted cute, but not "kawaii!", if that makes any sense. Also, as hard as it was to resist, I didn't buy anything Hello Kitty.

The gray dot is probably has a good bit of polyester in it, and it has a small flaw, but it was 100 yen/yard and the dots are really nice, not the bad printing I usually see in the US.

The autumn-leaf print is very heavy, almost upholstery weight, so I think that will be a skirt. It think it would be cute with an orange corduroy jacket and green tights in the fall … although in 90+ degree Taipei, it is *very* difficult to think about fall!

The black and gray leaf print just *spoke* to me, which black fabric hardly ever does. And who am I not to listen when Japanese fabric wants to emigrate? I had to buy it.

The browny-greige wallpaper print has a really interesting texture, almost matelassé. And since I'm never afraid to look like a combination wallpaper/bedspread, I figured I had to have it. I thought it would make a nice structured dress — something with stiff tailored details. We'll see …

The stripe is a shirting stripe and it's green/gray on one half and yellow-gray on the other. I thought I was hallucinating when I pulled it out; I pulled out the green side and, then, clutching the bolt, only saw the yellow; I enjoyed a brief moment of panic while I wondered where the green fabric went! Do I have any idea how to sew this? No, I do not. But for 100 yen/yard, I figured it would come to me. Someday. I'll wait.

The last bit is the orange/yellow sunburst cotton. I'm betting I'll make that up first; If I work it right it'll be a perfect Indian-summer dress, the yellow changing to orange towards the fall, just like the falling leaves …

Despite the notorious expensiveness of everything in Japan, I think I spent less than $125. Although I probably spent at least half that on train tickets ….

Here's a street-scene photo, just to help you get your bearings the next time you're in Tokyo:

Thanks again to all the folks who sent me recommendations and directions for my all-too-brief time in Tokyo … I can't wait to go back!

Remember the "Let's Go To Florida!" dress from here? Well, a full-on dredge of eBay turned up one (not my size, alas) from seller On-A-Moonbeam, who nicely included a scan of the entire front pattern envelope, so now we can really see the lines.

And, hoo boy, look at that skirt! Those are godets, are they not? Four of them. The listing shows the back of the pattern, which tells you that the width of the skirt at the hem for a size 16 (B34) is 262 inches. That's about seven and a quarter YARDS. No way I'm hemming that … except, isn't it gorgeous?

This pattern doesn't look too difficult to do; this might be a good starter for someone who wants to start off with something glamorous. Only don't make your first version in satin or velvet or anything slippery and expensive … try a lightweight cotton, okay? Believe me, this dress would be a knockout even if you made it in cotton flannel. Not that I'm recommending that, but hey, if that sounds like fun to you, who am I to quibble?

And thanks to everyone who gave me recommendations for Tokyo; I did go find Tomato fabrics and I did buy nearly my own weight in cotton prints. I'll have pics in a day or two, I hope …

Reader Renee sent this lovely pattern image to me — she's actually made it, and the pattern was her grandmother's.

The pattern envelope reads:

"Make it in a jiffy — then simply slip it over your head, wrap the back to the front and button — you're set for a dozen chores in and out of doors. Carryall pockets are a handy addition. (A) Short cobbler's apron. (B) Coverall."

Renee also helpfully sends us the back of the pattern (have I mentioned lately how much I love you all? I really do)

Because I am an evil, horrible person, before I posted this I searched on eBay and found and bought one — in my size, even. I now recommend you do a search on eBay yourself (since I got mine). (See how awful I am?)

The only other one I found online is at SoVintage Patterns … and it's $35.00. I would love to go find Renee's grandmother and tell her that this Saturday knock-around dress pattern now goes for $35. Worth every penny, really, but still!

The nice thing about this version (compared with the the other wrap-around dress, Butterick 4790) is that this one shouldn't have the skirt-riding-up problem that was reported. Oh, and it has POCKETS! Triangular ones!

I think what I like best about these dresses is the implied assumption that you had STUFF TO DO; stuff that might be dirty or messy, but still, STUFF, and you were going to do it, and look good while doing it. And happy. You were going to look happy, too, or at least these women were. I don't see many modern clothes with this assumption … so I have a huge rant building up about the unnecessary disparagement of practical clothing for women. Prepare yourselves …

And I head to Tokyo today and Taipei on Tuesday, so posting might be spotty over the next few days. If you're a recent arrival here at ADAD HQ, may I direct you to the archives, over there on the right? Scroll down …

Peggy very nicely sent me the link to this eBay auction, which is for the June-July 1955 issue of Vogue Pattern Book.

I used to collect these old pattern magazines until I realized that all they did was make me covet the patterns, which were then impossible to find. It's not like I could hie myself down to JoAnn's at the $3 Vogue Pattern sale and pick up a couple copies.

Sadly, the one on this page that I really like (4544, lower right hand corner) did not reveal itself to the Questing Robots of Google, nor was it available in the Hanging Gardens of eBay. And the couple others I looked at from the listing images were AWOL from those places, too.

However, if YOU like to torment yourself by drooling over pictures of patterns you probably won't ever be able to find, go ahead and bid. Be my guest. Or if you have a line on Vogue 4544, leave a comment …

Do you know what my favorite organizing principle is? (No, not "the pile", although if you've seen my office, that's an excellent guess.) My favorite organizing principle is "random".

"RANDOM is not an organizing principle!" I hear you saying. Well, just because something isn't a GOOD example of a category doesn't mean it doesn't belong to that category. (For instance, 'vomit' is a flavor, it's just not a good one.)

Things are nice and tidy and predictable when they're in categories and folders (and, yes, piles) but I like to choose things arbitrarily. Pick the fourth restaurant on the list and eat there. Opt for the book with the most colors on the cover. Talk to the person carrying the largest bag.

Or, my favorite, choose a random four-digit number and search the eBay vintage pattern category using it. That's how I found this gem, McCalls 3053, and I love it! If this were my size, I'd have bought it already — but it's B32. (Sigh.)

I just love the little button and the tuck that defines the sleeve. I'd probably put a different skirt on it, I don't like a center-front skirt seam, but hey, that's just me. Maybe I'll pick the skirt randomly, and see what happens …

Seriously, would someone throw a party? I know at least five people who need an excuse to wear this dress. We may have to wait a while, because flocked gingham (flocked TAFFETA gingham) isn't really a late-July, early-August kind of thing, but still.

Here are the requirements for the kind of party needed to showcase this dress:

• grown-up drinks
• soft lights
• 'sophisticated' canapés, circa 1955 — e.g., pigs in blankets
• a nice low armless chair so you can sit and spread out the skirt
• red lipstick

That last requirement is for the wearer, not the party … not everyone at the party has to wear red lipstick, although it wouldn't hurt. But seriously, that's it. How hard is that?

This dress is from seller Tori at Flashbak58 Bombshell Frocks, and it's a nice larger size … B42,W34!

The only thing is that I'm late posting this so there's only half a day left in the auction (I don't usually like to post things with less than three days to go …). Click on the image to grab your winter party frock now …

This falls squarely under the category "What were they thinking?"

I mean, really. I can't imagine any sane woman buying this dress and expecting not to have to constantly, um, *refocus* the conversation. Or feeling comfortable wearing it any place where she might possibly encounter fourteen-year-old boys.

Of course, if you were of the right cup size to wear this dress sans support, you might enjoy a little bit of optical reinforcement. Maybe. Perhaps. It's a thought.

Aw, hell, who are we kidding? This dress is a train wreck. One caused by the engineer taking his eyes from the track, actually.

The topper, of course, is that the slightly darker image on her right side looks like a third nipple. (Hey! You were thinking it too! Or if you weren't, you are now.)

If you would like to buy this dress (perhaps to film yourself wearing it and the reactions of those around you, as an interesting documentary topic), it's at Nordstroms. It's by Tocca (who should Know Better), and is $319. (As usual, click on the image to visit the catalog page.)

[Thanks to Dianne for the link!]