You Like That Pretty Dress!

For some reason my dear friend Jane has taken it into her mind that I am the crafty type.  And because of this, she brings box after box, filled with book after book, on such subjects as: how to decorate your vintage table; or, how to make a lovely dress from an old pillow case, etc., over to our house on a fairly regular basis.  And she does this despite my continuous pleas of: 'No more, please!  We've no where to put them!  And what do I know of ruffled pom-pom aprons anyway?'

And so when she was over a few weeks ago with her husband (so that they could look at our rather nasty popcorn ceiling in the living room and proffer advice as to the best way of removing said nastiness) she, being Jane, couldn't help herself and brought more books.  She then proceeded to sit down with Emilia and look at all the pictures of the 'pretty dresses'.  Emilia, without losing a beat, ran to show me — 'You like that pretty dress!'  ('You' is Emilia and 'Me' is mama, by the way.)  In fact, she carried this particular book around for a few days pointing it out whenever she could.

'Well, looks like I'm making a dress,' I told her.

But guess what?  I did just that.  I made a pretty dress.  And, not to brag or anything, but it even looks like a dress.  Well, la-di-da!

Now, let me make this perfectly clear.  The last time I sewed an article of clothing was when I was in junior high (or middle school, depending on where you are from).  I made, all by myself, the most spectacular pair of bright blue crop pants — nice elastic waistband and all.  And you may rest assured that they were hideous.  But, oh, how I loved them.  (Dare I tell you that I wore them with my highly coveted huarache shoes?  Yes, it's true.  And being the first person at Davis Middle School to sport such a style, making all the other girls jealous, I fancied myself a bit of a trend setter.)  But other than those pants, all I've made are drapes -- and those are just big squares, really. 

So needless to say, I thought the whole endeavor of dress-making sounded a bit intimidating.   Turned out to be loads of fun, and although the dress is far from perfect — no buttons yet; no pocket yet; very wonky looking where the fabric meets up on the shoulders, Emilia loves her 'pretty dress'.  However, since we used a different fabric than in the picture, I don't think she's made the connection that it is the same dress she was pointing out to me ... over and over again.  The other fabric we got is a bit closer to the picture, and as soon as I figure out how to do those blasted buttons and pockets, I'll whip it together for her.

The pattern comes from the book Carefree Clothes for Girls, by Junko Okawa.  All the clothes have a very simple Japanese style to them — maybe that is why Jane thought it would be down my alley, with a strong emphasis on the word 'simple'.   However, I must tell you that the book assumes you have some familiarity with your subject, and are not, in fact, a nitwit.  When it comes to the part about attaching the skirt to the bodice, it simply says 'baste the skirt'.  As I happen to fall into the category of 'nitwit', I called my mom to be reminded of how one actually goes about doing such a thing. ('Mom, how do you baste?  A skirt, not a chicken.')  She quickly reminded me, and that was that.  

And so, despite the decidedly homemade look of the dress, I have decided that I love to sew again.  However, I'll be damned if I'm going to consider myself crafty.  Afterall, I don't even own a glue-gun and I believe that is one of the requisites.  (Although, I can't tell you how many times I've secretly longed for one over the years.  But don't tell Jane this, I'm sure she's got a book somewhere on how to remodel your entire house using nothing but a glue-gun and old lingerie.)