What Shall I Wear? is probably one of the most seminal books in fashion, at least for me. I'd rank it right up there with Fashion is Spinach, and that's saying something.
It was supposed to be released today, but Amazon is already showing it's out of stock -- I'd order it now to be sure of getting one! Copies of earlier editions sell for well over US$100.
This is what McCardell had to say about her designs:
"For me, it's America—it looks and feels like America. It's freedom, it's democracy, it's casualness, it's good health. Clothes can say all that."
The whole book is inspiring. I heartily recommend it.
Weirdly, we only have one pattern tagged "Claire McCardell" on the wiki. Hmm. I'll have to see what we can do about that!
Book Review Week: Martha Stewart's Encyclopedia of Crafts
I really wish I had been in the editorial meeting when this was brought up for approval. I mean, DUH. Martha Stewart + Crafts + Reference? Complete and total no-brainer. I bet the editor just said "Martha Stewart's Encyclopedia of Crafts" and everyone else said "Yup," and moved on to the next title on the agenda.
It doesn't disappoint (okay, it doesn't disappoint ME). (I loves me an A-Z format.) The projects are everything you'd expect from our friend Martha, and more ... incredibly cute pom-pom baby chicks, scrolled-paper hearts, rubber-stamped rain hats ... if it can be painted, cut, folded, beaded, silkscreened, marbleized, stamped, glittered, punched, or glued, Martha will tell you how to do it. With impeccably-styled full-color photographs, of course.
If you are a known crafter (and not a vocal Martha-hater -- I know they exist, but I don't get it, the woman is like a superhero—or at the very least, Lex Luthor, and I've kind of always had a soft spot for Lex Luthor) and do not receive this book from a loved one at the next major holiday, you may need to consider whether or not anybody loves you. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is.
Let's get one thing straight (especially if you are related to me): There is no chance that I am going to make anything in Alicia Paulson's new book, Stitched in Time, anytime soon.
(Okay, *maybe* the Baby Clothes Quilt. I do still have a bunch of baby clothes around here ...)
But that's only because I'm WAY overscheduled right now. If I could sit down every Sunday from now until Christmas with a pot of tea, an old movie on the television, and this book, I would work my way through it beginning to end. There are SO MANY adorable projects ... and, as the saying goes, so little time. Not to mention the fact that my niece is still too young for that cute little doll on the cover ...
However, even if you don't have time to make even the smallest potholder, you might still want to pick up this book just for the gorgeous photographs and Alicia's lovely voice on the page. (And if you're not already reading her blog, well, why aren't you?)
Because we can all hope that SOMEDAY, you're going to have a rainy Sunday with nothing to do, and you are going to want this book and a box full of fabric scraps and a little girl to make a doll for. You ARE. That's just how the world works. It's always better to be prepared!
Book Review Week: The Civilized Shopper's Guide to Edinburgh and Glasgow
The Civilized Shopper's Guide to Edinburgh and Glasgow is an adorable little book that is fueling my never-all-that-dormant desire to pay a visit to Scotland. (2009 *is* being promoted as "Homecoming Scotland", although I'm not sure if there's a statute of limitations as to how long ago, exactly, your ancestors can have left Scotland before they say "Eh? Never heard of you" when you show up again. I'm thinking two-hundred-some years is pushing it.)
Anyway, if you are lucky enough to be getting to Edinburgh (or Glasgow) this year, or both, I'd really recommend this little book. Unlike a lot of shopping guidebooks I've seen, this one really concentrates on unique shops, and shops all across the consumer spectrum: there's the obvious wool and whiskey and so on, but also chocolates, bagpipery supplies, and vintage clothing. The book includes so many luscious full-color photographs that I want to go to Scotland now just for the light in the pictures!
Born-Again Vintage is another book I'm not really the audience for. I figured this out along about page 10, where the author refers to a "frumpy fifties housedress." (I clutched my pearls and said "Well, I never!" Then I shook out my skirts.)
If I wanted to eviscerate some perfectly good (or not-so-good: think qiana shirts from the 70s) vintage and clap together the pieces into new, wearable garments, that would be one thing (and occasionally a fun thing, too) but here's a list of things I do not consider wearable:
jeans cut off at the knee with sweater sleeves sewn on them, "to create the look of a leg warmer while eliminating the struggle of "boot-horning" your cuffs"
(while we're on the subject of leg warmers) leg warmers made from sweater sleeves, in general
leg warmers AT ALL
a corset made from a sweater
short-shorts (made from anything)
arm warmers
If these sound like garments that have pride of place in your closet (and you have a lot of sweaters to cut up) then maybe this book is for you. I'm afraid that I spent my time flipping through this book wanting the "before" garments a LOT more than the "afters". And when the author wrote (on page 65) "Cutting any fabulous vintage dress is a risk, but the end result here shows that it is worth the gamble," I'm afraid I said "No it's not!" out loud. (Sorry about that, guy in the coffee shop next to me.)
If you DO want to cut up perfectly good vintage dresses and sew them to t-shirts, this book offers more than enough information to get you started. (And if that's what makes you happy, fine. Go, have fun!)
[P.S. the pocket haiku from yesterday are FANTASTIC! I'll post the winners (and some runners-up) next Monday.]
Perfect Plus is a very straightforward book, nothing fancy. You're not going to get any couture techniques here, or anything too fashion-forward or art-to-wear. This is primarily a book for petite, plus-size women who are not fashionistas, but are frustrated with the tatty stuff they see in stores (or with the price tags on the nicer plus-size garments) and who don't have a ton of sewing experience.
The book includes four patterns (a blouse with collar & sleeve variations, pants, an elastic-waist skirt, and a jacket with very nice pockets) and many, many pages of help on how to choose fabrics, construction tips, and fitting.
If you are newish to sewing, need a very basic petite plus-size wardrobe and want a lot of hand-holding, this book is ideal for you. These garments are so simple, though, that your fabric choices are going to be very important. Cheap polyesters or badly-designed prints will make these look like a dog's breakfast -- upgrading to better-quality cottons and silks and good buttons (and taking your time with construction) will make all the difference here.
If you're already an experienced sewist or you want garments with more advanced design elements, I'd save your money -- there's nothing here that you probably haven't already made on your own. You'd be better off getting a good book on fitting patterns (like Fit for Real People) and altering patterns that you really like.
I don't need to keep this book, so I'm giving it away ... the person who writes me the best haiku about pockets will get it! You can email your verse or leave it in the comments. (If you leave it in the comments and you want the book, make sure there's a way for me to reach you.)
In presenting a dress to a friend whose circumstances are not so affluent as your own, and who you know will gladly receive it, select one of excellent quality, and of a colour that you think she will like. She will feel mortified if you give her one that is low-priced, flimsy, and of an unbecoming tint. Get an ample quantity, so as to allow a piece to be cut off and laid by for a new body and sleeves, when necessary. And to make the gift complete, buy linen for the body-lining; stiff, glazed muslin for the facings, buttons, sewing-silk, and whatever else may be wanted. This will save her the cost of these things.
If there are givers reading this blog solely to get ideas of what to give givees who are very interested in sewing, a length (four yards is safe) of a very nice fabric is always welcome. Choose a color you've seen your givee wear, and ask for in the store for advice about fabric if you're unsure -- natural fibers are best. Or you could visit some of the advertisers there on the right and choose a fantastic vintage pattern or vintage accessory -- always welcome!
Oh, more about the charity drive for this year: first, we're up to $860! Second, I was wrong about international donors -- it only works for Non-USians if you use Paypal. If you can't use Paypal and want to donate to an equivalent prisoners' or literacy charity in your home country, you're still eligible, just forward me your receipt! Remember, one lucky donor will have a character in my forthcoming novel named after them (or after a person important to them) -- go out and donate here. Thanks!
If you've been a reader of this blog, you probably know about the Secret Lives of Dresses series. (If you don't know about them, the links are over there in the sidebar, on the right.)
And you probably also know that, for the last couple years, I've been lucky enough to be able to raise money for some great charities by offering to write new "Secret Lives" vignettes if we reach our donation goal. This year, I hope we can raise $1500 for Books Through Bars, a charity in Philadelphia that provides books, especially dictionaries, to prisoners. They are working towards starting a program in a nearby women's prison, and our donations would go towards that effort.
If we make our goal, I have a new prize this year. You see, there's going to be a "Secret Lives of Dresses" book (just like many of you have asked for!) sometime in 2010, from Grand Central Publishing in the US and Hodder in the UK. And guess what? It's a novel! A novel that I haven't exactly finished yet, so I have room to rename a character! If you donate to this charity drive and email me a copy of your receipt (email is erin at dressaday dot com), I will choose one name from all the donors and name a character in the novel after him or her. (Yep, seriously.)
I don't care if you give a dollar or a hundred dollars (although obviously, I'd prefer you give a hundred dollars, if you can ...). But if you give anything at all, you have a chance to be a character (or at least a character's name) in the "Secret Lives of Dresses" novel. In addition, my wonderful editor at 5 Spot/Grand Central, Caryn Karmatz-Ruby, has offered to send me a box of their fantastic books to give as prizes for some runners-up (whom I'll also select randomly from all donors) ...
So, what are you waiting for? Scroll back up and click the "donate" button, and help a woman in prison educate herself so that, when she is released, she never has to go back.
The Donate For Good site accepts PayPal and credit cards; please put "DressaDay" in the "Designation" box so that Books Through Bars can make sure that our donations go to their women's program.
First off, Ms. van der Post is a woman of a certain age, and that age is old enough to have grandchildren. I have never understood why people would want to read fashion advice from someone younger than they are. (Everything looks good on people who are twenty; getting fashion advice from someone who can sleep in her makeup without consequence is like getting a restaurant recommendation from a fourteen-year-old boy.) Fashion advice should be dispensed, ideally, by elegant silver-haired matriarchs, who know all and have seen all ... like Ms. van der Post. Even if you aren't trying to disguise middle-aged spread, or worrying about wrinkle creams, well, forewarned is forearmed, I say.
And although the book is jam-packed with useful information, like where to buy retro sunglasses (Cutler & Gross in the UK) and mothballs (Lakeland) and hats (nyfashionhats.com), the real value is in her insistence that fashion is about happiness ("Completely pragmatically, one observes that those who dress prettily, elegantly, or glamorously have a lot more fun than those who don't.") and that you shouldn't take yourself too seriously ("Only small people take offense," she says, quoting her father).
In addition to the usual topics of style advice books (hair, diet, clothes, accessories, manners, and men) there is an excellent section on home decor, which doesn't assume you will have hot and cold running decorators or a fifteen-room manse to decorate. (My favorite house advice was to buy slowly, one by one, things you really love, so that you don't waste money on temporary solutions ... even though I am the queen of the "let's buy this $5 Ikea lamp until we figure out what we really want.")
But the worklife section is a bit ... antediluvian. "Usually -- but by no means always -- it's in the family's interests for the man's career to be given most attention ..." Really? C'mon. You get the feeling that the "by no means always" was inserted by the editor in a desperate attempt to ward off the stink of irrelevance. And Ms. van der Post's musing on whether any "... alpha woman (or any woman, come to that)" would want a "meek, docile, beta house husband"? Sheesh. If all "housewives" aren't docile (and we know they're not) why should we assume all "house husbands" are?
Actually, when reading through it, I kept having the feeling -- not a bad feeling, but a strong feeling -- that this could be one of those advice books from the early 1960s, like Dariaux's Elegance, reprinted. If it weren't for the URLs (and the odd mention of Uggs or Jennifer Aniston) there wouldn't be all that much to set it apart from those earlier books. And even the year's time since publication in the UK makes for some of those "window on an earlier era moments": Ms. van der Post recommends "Pepe jeans" as a good present for a "Young Boy," as well as "iPod socks."
But really, that's as it should be. Some kinds of advice are timeless (iPod socks notwithstanding), and if we have to republish it every decade or so under a different name with different quirks, I'm happy to read it every time. And really, who doesn't need to be periodically reminded of some of Ms. van der Post's maxims, like "clean and tidy less, and read more." Or "Never go out with a man who doesn't make you laugh." Or "Use the things you love every day. It's never worth saving things for a special occasion."
Peoples! Did you know there's a new book out about Liberty in the 1950s and 1960s?
To say that I want it would be an understatement. Luckily, I've pre-ordered it on Amazon (Amazon.uk also had it, but has sold out) and soon, soon, a copy will be on the way to me. (I can't believe they didn't find me and offer to send a review copy; somebody at that publisher needs a quick refresher course in online marketing, if you ask me.)
And in other fantastic Liberty news, Anna Buruma, the archivist for Liberty has kindly agreed to answer some questions for you, dear readers. I've put in the first batch below ...
What do you think has been the most popular Liberty design of all time? The most popular design is impossible to say, but there are some very long-lived designs.
Hera, the Peacock Feather design, first appears (not at Liberty) in the 1870s; Ianthe (the art nouveau design) was picked up by the Liberty designers in the 1960s and has been identified with Liberty ever since; I think perhaps the most typical of all the Liberty classics is Poppy & Daisy which was designed for Liberty in the 1910s and has been in the fabric range on and off ever since.
Liberty has made Tana lawn, Kingly cord, Jubilee wool/cotton, silk (does it have a name?) and jersey, that I know of ... were there other fabrics, too? Flannel? Oilcloth? Some polyester in the 1970s that nobody speaks of now? Hemp, during the war?
Liberty has always experimented with different cloth bases: many different cottons from very loosely woven ones to coarse to tana lawn; different wools of which the most famous one is probably varuna wool; lots of different silks, we have three different ones at the moment; velvets, and certainly man-mades, from rayon in earlier times to nylon in the 1960s and polyester and viscose in the 70s, 80s and 90s. We don't have any man-mades at present, but never rule out any good bases.
Are there plans to put little biographies of any of the Liberty fabric designers on the new Liberty blog?
There are no plans to put biographies of Liberty designers on our web site at the moment. Many of the earlier designers are in fact unknown as Liberty wanted to promote their own name rather than that of others.
What is the oddest thing that has ever been made from Liberty?
Lots of odd things: someone made a teapot that was sold in the shop; there was a Cacharel/Liberty sailing boat in a race in the 70s with a Liberty sail; there have been various marketing campaigns for Liberty fabric, for example one where Elvis's blue suede shoes were substituted by tana lawn ones.
Can you think of other questions you'd like to ask of Ms. Buruma? Let me know, and I'll pass them along ...
Book the first is Sew Fast Sew Easy Sew On, which is subtitled "All You Need To Know to Start Sewing and Serging -- Today!" I'm not so sure about the "today" part -- it may take you a little time to round up the supplies you want -- but with a little stick-to-it-tiveness, you could be sewing tomorrow, or at the very least Sunday.
I love this kind of rah-rah, you-can-do-it sewing book, because (rah-rah!) you CAN do it. Seriously. People ask me if it's hard to sew, and I always say that if you can drive a car and follow a recipe you can sew, because sewing is really just like following a recipe (and my sewing machine has a foot pedal). You take measurements, you mix things up, and if you've been paying attention, you get something delicious at the end. (And to push the driving metaphor a bit farther: sewing machines hardly EVER crash into each other.)
Sew Fast Sew Easy Sew On lays out, with detailed illustrations, all the basics of sewing. What you need. How to cut out a pattern. The parts of a sewing machine and of a serger. Basic garment construction. It's a very patient and helpful outline of sewing knowledge, and a great beginner book. And it includes some beginner patterns -- a t-shirt, a halter dress, a pair of drawstring pants, a box cushion, and the inevitable iPod cozy.
One-Piece Wearables is for slightly more advanced sewists -- its subtitle is "25 Chic Garments and Accessories to Sew from Single-Pattern Pieces." At first I thought the single-piece thing was a gimmick, but then I remembered how many times I'd altered a pattern to remove a seam I thought superfluous, and decided to take a closer look.
The book includes 15 patterns, several of the halter-top variety (there's only so much you can do with only one pattern piece!) but I was pleasantly surprised by the dress patterns, including a sweet little number called the "window-shopping dress". There's a t-shaped tunic that's not bad either, a great circle skirt, a very interesting little jacket, and even a really cute cloche-y hat!
The illustrations are more aspirational than technical but there are good diagrams of the cutting layouts and the instructions and supply lists are very clear. For intermediate sewists, this would be a great purchase; for beginners it may be a stretch; advanced sewists might want to get their hands on a copy as a jumping-off point for their own ideas.
Forgotten Fashion is not a how-to book, unless what you need to know how to do is be charmingly absurd. I consider myself a connoisseur of the absurd, so take it from me: this is some high-grade absurd, right here. Forgotten Fashion claims to be an "illustrated faux history of outrageous trends and their untimely demise," including safari pajamas (modeled after those worn in a screwball comedy where the stars were interrupted -- repeatedly -- on their wedding night by the groom's pet elephant, Jinx), the "poly-chem Oxford," a man's shirt made of space-age chemicals and designed to last fifty years, and my favorite, the "Four-O'Clock Dress" a toga-like garment to be worn AFTER coming home from shopping but BEFORE "the mister" got home. It had "secret inner pockets to hide the tools of whatever vice occupied the otherwise abject and idle afternoon ... miniature gin bottles, marijuana joints, or palm-sized erotic novels." Genius! (What would be in your secret pocket, I ask?)
Ready to Share: Fashion & the Ownership of Creativity might be harder to find than the books above, but it's well worth it. A collection of essays on creativity, sharing, idea transfer, and homage/borrowing/"theft" in fashion, published by the Norman Lear Center at USC, it's completely engrossing. If you like fashion and are fascinated by the arbitrariness of copyright, patents, and IP law in general, you have to read this book. (And how much do I love that I know that a considerable number of you reading this blog ARE in that category?) The book also includes a DVD of the related event put on by the center.
Whew, okay, that's it for the books on my desk today. Check back at some undetermined interval for more book-reviewing madness!
Deborah writes in with a plaintive request: does anyone know what the pattern number is of the McCalls pattern on the cover of Blueprints of Fashion?
If you know (or better yet, if you HAVE) this pattern, please leave a comment ... I *think* I've seen this one before, but considering I can't even remember the number of the Walk-Away Dress, there's no way I'd ever be able to pull three or four digits out of my noggin for this one.
And to continue my unbroken string of sales announcements, there's a sale at Specialist Auctions, starting today:
Great Dresses of Mediocre Literature, Meta-Discussion
Reader Lynn is looking for fiction that describes twentieth-century older women and their clothes, which reminded me of the wonderful descriptions of clothes (on women of all ages) in the novels of Kathleen Norris, like this one:
Only the wearers and their dress-makers knew what hours had been spent upon these costumes, what discouraged debates attended their making, what muscular agonies their fitting. Only they could have estimated, and they never did estimate -- the time lost over pattern books, the nervous strain of placing this bit of spangled net or that square inch of lace, the hurried trips downtown for samples and linings, for fringes and embroideries and braids and ribbons. The gown that she wore to her own dinner, Mrs. White had fitted in the Maison Dernier Mot, in Paris; -- it was an enchanting frock of embroidered white illusion, over pink illusion, over black illusion, under a short heavy tunic of silver spangles and threads. The yoke was of wonderful old lace, and there was a girdle of heavy pink cords, and silver clasps, to match the aigrette that was held by pink and silver cords in Mrs. White's beautifully arranged hair.
Mrs. Burgoyne's gowns, or rather gown, for she wore exactly the same costume to ever dinner, could hardly have been more startling than Santa Paloma found it, had it gone to any unbecoming extreme. Yet it was the simplest of black summer silks, soft and full in the skirt, short-sleeved, and with a touch of lace at the square-cut neck. She arranged her hair in a becoming loose knot, and somehow managed to look noticeably lovely and distinguished, in the gay assemblies. To brighten the black gown she wore a rope of pearls, looped twice about her white throat, and hanging far below her waist; pearls, as Mrs. Adams remarked in discouragement later, that "just made you feel what's the use! She could wear a kitchen apron with those pearls if she wanted to, everyone would know she could afford cloth of gold and ermine!"
Do you have a favorite author for descriptions of dress, especially descriptions of twentieth-century dress? (Georgette Heyer is great for Regency dress, at least to read -- I have no idea how accurate her depictions are, but I'm sure someone will tell me!) Please leave your recommendations in the comments ...
Fashion Sewing on A Budget ... and the Walk-Away Dress!
I was flipping through some of my old sewing books a while back, looking for something (I can't even remember what) and was arrested by this image, which of course is the famous Walk-Away Dress:
If you can't read the caption, it is:
Even a beginner can make a dress like this one successfully, from two old dresses. This pattern is smart, adaptable, and easy to make since it only has a few pieces.
The book was Fashion Sewing on a Budget, and I have to say it's one of the more helpful of the ancient titles that I've accumulated. I think because it takes a "learning by doing" approach, which is the learning style I've always favored. (You make more mistakes, but you learn more from them!)
The online copies I've linked to above, on Amazon, are fairly pricey but my copy is marked "$1-" on the flyleaf and I'm sure I've seen this many a time in thrift stores and used book sales. Keep an eye out in those places, if you want it.
I still haven't made the Walk-Away dress, myself. I keep reading otherpeople'sreviews and can't decide whether to try it, and, if so, in what fabric ... and, of course, where to put the pockets!
Little, Brown sent me a copy of Sew U: Home Stretch to review (and two more to give away!) and I've just had a chance to sit down and take a look.
Although I think this book is not especially geared to my personal aesthetic (I lived through the 1980s the first time, thanks) the tips for sewing knits seem incredibly helpful. There's a real guerrilla, make-do tone; although a serger is suggested, you can make most of the knit projects in this book with your regular sewing machine. AND the book includes patterns!
I'm seriously tempted to start making my own t-shirts (or at least shorten the ones I buy online) now that I've read this book. Then they would finally all be the right length!
On to the giveaways: I'll give away the two copies to two people selected at random from those who've made recent changes at the Vintage Pattern Wiki by Friday night, CDT, June 20. (You don't have to join/log in to add to the wiki in general, but if you want to win a book you have to so that I can find you!) Not sure how to participate? here are the original instructions.
Also, Jenny added a Fauxlero category! Go forth and upload and tag, please.
If you're not into knits you might be interested in the first Sew U book, which I reviewed here.
I've been meaning to review Wife Dressing: The Fine Art of Being a Well-Dressed Wife for ages; it's been sitting here on the little typing table I use as an auxiliary desk (which should have a big bin on it labeled "stuff you should get to today but probably won't").
Make no mistake, this is a book primarily about "dressing for HIM" (the sub-subtitle is "With Provocative Notes for the Patient Husband Who Pays the Bills") and, although Fogarty was a very successful designer, she downplays that quite a bit (she spends more time talking about her eighteen-inch waist!). You get the impression that perhaps her Mister (one or all of them; she married three times) wasn't entirely comfortable with a breadwinning wife and that this book, in part, was meant to reassure him that he, too, was important in her life ... even if she was selling thousands of dollars of dresses every year.
But once you get past that, the book is full of gems, such as:
A travel wardrobe is personal. ... It is a condensation of your regular wardrobe, not a separate entity. After all, you're still the same person whether you're at home or far away, and you'll want familiar garments with you. Never cut your gear so close to the bone that you leave your personality behind.
(italics Fogarty's)
or how about this?
As for flagrant bad taste, there aren't too many examples. Shorts on a city street is one of the worst. This shows a lack of self-respect and a contempt for the people who are properly dressed. .... Strapless dresses in town are as bad. If a dress is strapless, it's either a cocktail dress that should be worn after five or else it's a sundress and should stay in the sun.
And my favorite:
The art of courage and discretion is a clarion cry for individuality, a turning away from slavish adherence to every fashion or beauty trend. Courage and discretion go hand in hand: the courage to dare to be yourself, the discretion not to overdo; the courage to do something unusual, the discretion to temper it.
That's good advice for everyone, whether there's a husband in the picture or not. In fact, it's even good advice for husbands themselves.
First off is Yeah! I Made It Myself, by Eithne Farry, which has been languishing under a pile of language-related books I have to review for I don't know how long. Since I came back from London, at the very least. Which is a shame, because it's a charming book.
I fell into immediate sympathy with the author, who declares (in the first fifty pages) her love for bias tape, sewing with furnishing fabric, and bright colo[u]rs.
But, be aware this is much more of a punk-rock, you-go-girlfriend-type book than a Martha Stewart "here are my 105 downloadable templates" type book. Most of the measurements given are approximate; the "diagrams" are done in what looks like magic marker. If you need constant reassurance that you are "doing it right", this is not the book for you; if you want to feel as if any way you do it is right (within reason), jump right in.
This book would be a perfect present for a teen friend who wants to sew but is put off by the embellished-quilted-vest crowd you see on a lot "traditional" sewing books ... just keep an eye on your curtains.
The other book that's up for review today is 99 Ways To Cut, Sew, Tie & Rock Your Scarf I was really looking forward to this one, because I'm always interested in ways to make clothing-type stuff from things that aren't necessarily fabric (although of course with scarves it's changing one clothing-type thing into another clothing-type thing, or, in this case, 99 other clothing-type things).
All of the 99 versions in this book have women's names, and, believe it or not, my copy fell open to "Erin" ... which is a balloon skirt. Not an auspicious start, although your opinion of balloon skirts may differ from mine. (My opinion is I hate 'em.) I think this was a sign that I'm not the intended audience for this book: first off, I don't really ever "rock" anything I'm wearing -- I prefer to "power-pop" my clothing, the choruses are better -- also I'm not a big fan of the halter top, versions of which I would estimate take up a good quarter of the "99 ways". One other reason why I figured I wasn't the audience for this book: none of the illustrated models are wearing eyeglasses! (Sunglasses don't count.)
However, if you are a halter-top fan, and you have been looking for a good quick balloon-skirt pattern, this book is totally for you. The instructions are clear and easy to follow and there's a great glossary of terms at the end. And even if you don't want 47 scarf-based tops that you can't wear a bra under, the "Jolene" kimono-style jacket is really lovely.
Again, though, this is a sewing book for non-sewers: almost every project can be made without a machine, and the emphasis is heavily on "find the scarf (preferably in a thrift store) today, wear it out tonight."
I actually got two copies of this, so if you want one, here's how to get it: be the first person to tell me where I can buy two more yards of this cotton poplin camouflage fabric:
I had just enough for a skirt ... I thought. Then I saw that I'd dropped the center-back pattern piece on the floor. D'oh! So help me out, and get a free book! Email or comments are both fine ways to enter. If you leave a comment, though, make sure I can reach you to get an address for the sending of your prize!
I was recently sent a copy of Hadley Freeman's The Meaning of Sunglasses to review. I wasn't exactly sure that I would enjoy it; you all know how I feel about most of the fashion-industrial complex. Also I have exactly one pair of (prescription) sunglasses, and they're decidedly not designer (they're very nice tortoise cats-eyes, classic, I've had them for years): what on earth would I find to like in a book called The Meaning of Sunglasses?
The answer, of course, is "quite a bit". Hadley's voice is wry and quite often exasperated and she doesn't take either herself or the fashion industry too seriously. We also agree on the core issues, e.g., dresses:
A good dress will never make you feel fat, it can be worn with flats or heels, and everybody can find a style that suits them—absolutely none of these statements can be applied to trousers with 100 percent certainty.
and shoes:
The brilliant thing about the sudden and surprising emergence of the thick heel—aside from the fact that, after 2000 years, shoemakers seem to have come to grips with the idea of weight distribution—is that it doesn't look like you're trying so hard to be sexy, and this, in itself, is sexier.
Of course, there is much that Ms Freeman and I disagree on: she's very down on orange coats (my favorite coat of the fall was traffic-cone orange); she's not a fan of Liberty ("Liberty prints have a kitsch appeal and so can only be worn in measured doses"), and neither does she like cardigans ("it is a rare woman who gets too excited about buying just one cardigan, never mind four or five" — I must be a rare woman, then ...). Wacky eyeglasses also come in for a little bit of finger-wagging. But her tone is such that I know if I met her in a bar wearing my orange coat, a cotton cardigan over my riotous Liberty-print dress, with bright-blue eyeglasses, she'd roll with it, and we'd have a great time.
Another plus: I laughed out loud several times, especially at this bit about Karl (He-Must-Be-Stopped) Lagerfeld: "Now he looks like a psychotic sixteenth-century German courtier, just as he'd intended."
Ideally, this is a book that a close girlfriend would give you as a gift, with the funnier parts called out with little post-it tags. At $24.95, it's just slightly too expensive (and the content slightly too lightweight) to really justify as a fashion-library addition. Also, if you read it straight through (as I did), some of it has the feel of reworked newspaper columns (Ms Freeman writes for the Guardian), with some repeated phrases and jokes. In fact, while you're waiting for someone to give you this book, I recommend subscribing to her RSS feed.
As for the sunglasses ... you'll have to read the book to find out exactly what they mean. This is a spoiler-free zone, people!
I get a lot of email asking me how to learn to sew, and with so many other things in life, the answer is "It Depends."
First of all, you have to know how you learn. Are you someone who likes the "monkey-see, monkey-do" approach? Then you probably want to learn from a person, instead of a book. Do you want to learn in a big group where you can hide in the back, or do you need one-on-one attention? Do you do better with a kindly-grandma type who's never met a zipper she couldn't fix, or do you want a hip young thing wearing a deconstructed t-shirt? If you are going to learn from a family member or friend, will your relationship survive the first buttonhole? (Be honest with yourself. If a family dinner with Aunt Biddy has you gritting your teeth and wishing for death, she is NOT the person to teach you how to sew.)
If your fingers itch at the thought of not being able to just jump in yourself and TRY things, maybe you should learn from a book. I really like the Reader's Digest Complete Guide to Sewing, because it has great pictures and is very matter-of-fact; other people swear by the Singer Sewing Essentials book or the Vogue Sewing Book, among other titles. I recommend that, if you go the book route, you buy at least two books (or as many as you can afford the money and space for) so that you can get second opinions if something doesn't work for you. (Remember, sewing is like perl: There's More Than One Way To Do It.)
Then there's the question of What Do You Sew First? Again, how do you work? Will you do better with the challenge of a complicated first project (because you really, really want the result)? Or will you be happy making a basic tote bag or placemat that you wouldn't otherwise want or use, just to learn techniques slowly? Will you not be motivated unless you're sewing beautiful fabric, or will it rip you up inside if you ruin something special?
And another thing: how do you deal with frustration and failure? Because learning to sew, at least at first, will add heaping doses of both into your life, I'm sorry to say. If frustration makes you crazy-angry, with bouts of throwing things and/or screaming, try to sew when your family/roommate/pet parakeets are elsewhere. Take lots of deep breaths. One deep breath for each stitch ripped out is a pretty good ratio.
If "failing" at something makes you want to sleep for a week (and either stop eating altogether or mainline Ben & Jerry's): redefine 'failure'. You didn't fail to make a skirt, you succeeded in learning how NOT to make a skirt! Go into every project, at least for the first few projects, with the goal of learning, and not with the goal of making something couture-level. Define success generously. If you got the machine threaded right, didn't sew through your finger, and the two pieces of fabric join up more or less evenly? You won. Do a victory lap.
More advice: isolate your variables. Don't try everything at once! In other words, don't try to change a pattern's size or design AND do a new technique you've never tried before AND use a difficult fabric: if something goes wrong you will find it hard to figure out just what to blame (except for sunspots: I find it convenient to blame sunspots for everything).
I still think the ideal first project is a full skirt; it gives you only one part of your body to fit (your waist), encourages you to jump right in to zippers (Zippers: not that hard. Take some deep breaths, go slowly, and baste; you'll be fine), and, truly, a full skirt is also forgiving of minor "mistakes". Waistband uneven? Don't tuck in your shirt! Your hem is wobbly? Walk fast, they'll never notice.
Lastly, here are some things I wish I'd known when I first learned to sew ... and that I wish I followed 100% now!
Cutting is five times as important as construction. Honestly. Once you've cut the pattern, your track is chosen. It's much harder to recover from a cutting error than a sewing error. If you take your time on the cutting out, you will never regret it. Don't cut out patterns when you're tired, angry, or distracted (or, needless to say, drunk); you'll never wear the dress. And all those markings on the patterns? MARK THEM ALL. You won't be able to 'figure it out later' -- believe me, I KNOW.
Have everything in place before you start sewing. And by everything, I mean, wind one more bobbin than you think you'll need, know where your seam ripper, measuring tape, pins, zipper foot for your machine, etc., are. If the project needs seam binding or buttons or a zipper or interfacing: have it before you start. The fabric store is a sad, sad place at ten p.m. (if it's even open). And once you get home with whatever it was you needed, sitting down with a book will look awfully inviting. (Of course, being by nature impatient and NOT having what you need can lead to some "interesting" design decisions ... not that I would know. Ha.)
Put your stuff away in the right place when you're done. That way you won't have to spend an hour cleaning up from your LAST project before you can start your NEXT project. Total buzzkill, that is.
Eliminate the "shouldas" from your sewing life. Has a project descended into that abyss from which it shall never emerge? Write. It. Off. Don't let it hang around your sewing room like some Dickensian ghost. Give it away, cut it into quilt squares, mash it up for papermaking, hold an unfinished-object-swap with all your sewing friends, heck, throw it out or burn it if you have to -- I don't care what you do with it, but once you get to the point where thinking of it makes you feel guilty and self-flagellating, it is not a "unfinished project" but a curséd albatross. Sewing is no longer something people need to do to survive on the frontier [if you ARE on the frontier, pls ignore this part]; it's a FUN HOBBY. Vigorously expunge the parts that aren't fun. So you screwed up. So what? Bury the evidence, deny, deny, deny, and move ON.
I called this "Part One" as I may (or may not, you never know) add other parts later. But don't wait for them! Start now!
I don't know how anyone over the age of 8 is bored any longer. Hasn't the internet killed boredom? I haven't been bored since about 1993, possibly earlier. All you have to do is enter some random search string, like "most beautiful dress", and you get a treasure like this:
The most beautiful dress in the ball-room that season was worn by Miss D. It was a very handsome India muslin. She was not called the belle of the evening, but belle of the season. She was not only beautiful and graceful, but so winning and attractive in her manners, so amiable and lovely, that the belle-pickers, who picked all to pieces, could not find anything to say about her.
...
The ladies were all elegantly dressed, a few of which I will describe. One lady was dressed in white silk, with upper skirt of silk, with white illusion puffings, which swept the floor for half a yard. One well-known East Fourth- street belle wore a double-skirt of illusion, small puffs about half a yard up each side; berthe to match, trimmed with little forget-me-nots, which could not be distinguished from natural flowers; her hair was trimmed with the same shade of blue flowers, drooping down on her snowy neck, which made her look more like wax-work than a human being. She had not too much religion to go to either the East or West-end, whenever she thought it proper to go. There were many others there—but I will only say they were all beautiful.
C'mon -- who DOESN'T want to read the memoirs of an abolitionist hairdresser of Cincinnati? Especially when it's full of stories about gossips and beautiful dresses and scandal? It's like Little Women crossed with People.
Book Review: Trappings: Stories of Women, Power, and Clothing
I've been meaning to write about Trappings for a while now, and then of course I "tidied" my office and an enormous number of things got put in one of those dread piles (from which only now are the bravest and most stalwart to-dos escaping).
But I'm glad this book struggled back to the top, because I thoroughly enjoyed it. The authors, Tiffany Ludwig and Renee Piechocki (who call themselves Two Girls Working) did something very simple, and very worthwhile: they traveled around and interviewed women about what they wore that made them feel powerful, and why.
The clothing (and makeup, and hair, and tattoos, and so forth) that the women interviewed talk about are all over the place: purple capes, red lipstick, cowboy hats, black bras, bellydancing costumes, and tribal dress. Ludwig and Piechocki seem to have done their best to get a good mix of ages, geographic distributions, socioeconomic classes, races, and (admirably) included transpeople, as well.
My only disappointment with the book is not the authors' fault -- it was that so few women interviewed had MADE their "powerful items." (I think the only people wearing things that they had made themselves were two women who were Eastern Shoshone and Crow, in traditional dress.) I think making something yourself adds an extra dimension to clothing -- I've gotten to the point now where I hardly ever wear a dress or skirt that I didn't make, just because I feel so much better, more competent, and more all-around alive when I'm wearing something I did make.
That said, Trappings is a wonderful read. Check it out!
What do YOU wear that makes you feel powerful? Feel free to tell me in the comments ...
I was asked if I wanted a copy of Basic Black for review, and I said "yes, of course." Cathie Black is the president of Hearst Magazines; I am a magazine junkie: why not?
Basic Black is not only very readable (unlike quite a few other how-to-succeed-books I've come across) it's also very enjoyable. Ms. Black has a practical, friendly tone that comes across well on the page, and her advice is of the "this worked for me, I think it will work for you" variety rather than a one-size-fits-all manifesto. The whole book leaves you feeling refreshed and optimistic about the world of work and your place in it.
Here's one of my favorite bits:
If you want to be an innovator, express yourself like an innovator. Dress in something with verve rather than a corporate uniform. Take your team offsite and do something wacky. Wear a costume to a sales meeting [...] and recruit a few others to do the same. Pick a theme -- have people dress like cartoon characters.
I really wish I'd recruited people to dress like cartoon characters more often. It's absolutely on the to-do list now!
One of the things I really appreciated about Ms. Black and her book was that she doesn't think that feminism and business are incompatible. She worked for Ms. and for USA TODAY -- and you don't get more mainstream than USA TODAY! And when people grumbled that she hired "too many women" (whatever THAT means) she made her point in a very direct, concrete, and nonconfrontational way: at a holiday lunch for Hearst executives, she was supposed to make some brief remarks after the meal. She stood up and said: "Some people seem to think I hire too many women. I just want you to know I'm listening to their complaints. So I thought I'd do a little survey. Would the women executives please stand up?" A third of the room stands. Then she asks for the male executives to stand ... and when dozens of men get to their feet, her point is made.
One of her best points, I think, is a slightly-kinder "Get over it," urging women not to dwell on their mistakes but to pick themselves up and move on. "If I needed three days to get over every day I was criticized, I'd never have gotten anything done in my career," she warns. It's more important to get things done than to get things done perfectly, and better to try and fail than never try at all.
If you're looking for a book for a recent college graduate, especially one interested in working in publishing or media (or sales, for that matter), this is an excellent choice, and it's not bad for people who have been in the work world for a while, either.
The post office has delivered some fun books lately for me to share with you -- I love getting review copies, especially of novels, because then reading for fun magically becomes Work with a capital W. As in, "Honey, I'd love to put away the laundry right now, but I really have to finish this book for Work. You understand, don't you?" Of course, my husband twigged to this little ruse years ago, so there's some eye-rolling involved (and if I'm eating chocolate while "Working" all bets are off) but still. It's fun.
One of the books that was sent to me was this one, Violet on the Runway, which I suppose is technically YA, although it certainly has what we used to call Adult Content. All I know is that if I had come across this when I was thirteen, I would have read it three times, and even as an adult, it was truly entertaining. The people are whole and well-rounded and I liked Violet very much, as the ugly duckling who turns out to be a swan (and who might be happier as a duckling). It was so nice to read a fashion-y book that didn't go overboard with the brand names, didn't seem like an extended game of paper dolls, and which featured people you could like and understand. An excellent book for your favorite fashion-mad teen (and if you're careful and don't get chocolate on the pages, you can read it yourself first).
I was also sent The Collection, a novel set in part in the workrooms of Coco Chanel; kind of a The Devil Wears Prada, only with Coco as the Devil. I tend to like historical fiction, and this was a nice change from kings of the realm and so on. Unfortunately, the characters were a bit flatter than my ideal -- I kept waiting for Isabelle to do something dramatic -- but the plot was such that I read it all in one sitting, so that must mean *something*. (Weirdly, I also got an email blast from The New Yorker yesterday inviting me to a reading of this novel at the Eileen Fisher store in the Water Tower Mall. Is Eileen Fisher the new Chanel and nobody told me? It certainly makes a kind of sense.)
Lastly, this is probably better suited for my other blog, but Burgess Unabridged is just an adorable book, and I'm so glad that Walker has brought it back in print. Gelett Burgess was, in fact, the guy who coined the word blurb, which makes me insanely happy, in a meta kind of way, that I was able to blurb this book. (Not many people get to blurb the blurber.) Burgess Unabridged is a collection of his other neologisms, none of which ever had the success of blurb, but which make for interesting reading, nonetheless. Like the word kipe, which he defines as "A woman's glance at another woman." Leaving aside the heteronormativity of that for the moment, doesn't that word describe every two-figure illustrated pattern envelope you've ever seen? Or his word gorgule, meaning "elaborate bad taste," something we always know when we see it -- and now have a handy word for. Burgess Unabridged is illustrated, too, by Herb Roth, in a kind of Aubrey Beardsley-meets-Gahan-Wilson style.
DORA. Then, we are all to learn dress-making, are we?
OLD LECTURER. Yes; and always to dress yourselves beautifully—not finely, unless on occasion, but then very finely and beautifully too. Also you are to dress as many other people as you can; and to teach them how to dress if they don't know; and to consider every ill-dressed woman or child whom you see anywhere, as a personal disgrace; and to get at them, somehow, until everybody is as beautifully dressed as birds.
I'm being asked a lot now about how to learn to sew, and since my method, although ideal (get my mom to teach you) is somewhat impractical to recreate, I've been looking at gateway-drug, I mean introductory, sewing books.
Sew What! Skirts looked good from the get-go, and I wasn't disappointed.
It's not just that several of the skirts offer pockets (albeit simple patch ones), or that the idea is to learn fitting techniques that you can apply across multiple (patternless) skirts, or that rickrack features prominently. It's that I think that the authors (Francesca Denhartog & Carole Ann Camp) have figured out what motivates beginning sewists: it's the fabric, stupid.
Fabric is what draws folks in. It's the promise of taking that gorgeous yardage and draping it around oneself (or one's home) that leads people down the path towards the $7000 Bernina. And in every home-ec horror story I've ever heard, the indignity of having to make something useless has been compounded by the useless thing having to be done in boring, hideous, cheap fabric.
The fabrics shown in this book are, frankly, awesome. Beautiful patterns, lovely weaves; not a scratchy double-knit in the lot. The skirts are wearable, the instructions clear.
This is a very good book for beginners, in that it explains *everything*. The instructions stop just short of including "Inhale. Exhale." They also, bless them, allow for the possibility that you might screw up, and screw up badly. They advise you to leave extra seam allowances so that you can fix your mistakes, for example, and tell you to start with cotton, as it's easier.
Lately I've been feeling a bit guilty about some of my sewing cheerleading -- I'm worried that I'm making it sound too easy, and that I've forgotten how hard it was for me to learn some techniques -- things I could do backwards in a hailstorm now, but which occasioned many lonely hours with a seam ripper before. Part of that frustration was me being an impatient teenager, sure, but part also is just doing and doing and doing until you can feel when you have something right. This book has a little of the same cheerleading problem, but since it's at such a basic level, and advocating a do-your-own-thing, "it's not a flaw, it's an interesting design decision" attitude, I feel as if it's warranted. The only change I would have made would be to emphasize more the need for practice.
Sewing, I've come to realize, is a lot more like athletics than I'd like to admit. Despite having been, at one time or another, a cross-country runner (slowly), a college soccer player (ineptly, and inept in Div III at that), and a discus and shotput thrower (not very far, and not for very long), and despite my obsessionwithroller-skating, I think of myself as profoundly unathletic. So the realization that sewing, like other muscle-memory activities, is something that you just can't read a book on and be note-perfect at, was one that was slow to come to me. But, just as you don't have to train for a marathon to enjoy running for exercise (shudder), you don't have to practice couture techniques to make a perfectly lovely skirt. All you have to do is practice, period. Those practice runs are still exercise, even if they aren't marathons, and those practice garments are still wearable -- and if you are patient and follow the instructions in this book, they'll be better than wearable.
So: this is a good book, especially for beginning sewers. Fabric is good. Experimentation is good. You (too) can be good. Take it to heart, and take your heart to the sewing machine.
So recently I was offered a chance to read & review Queen of Babble, by Meg Cabot. Somehow (probably due to living under a rock, or at least below grade for the past decade) I managed to miss the phenomenon that is Meg Cabot, but I'm clued in now, and will probably be wolfing down her other books in short order, as I enjoyed Queen of Babble immensely.
As part of the publicity-industrial complex, I've also been given the opportunity to ask Meg some questions (on your behalf, dear readers) -- here they are, with her answers. Doesn't Meg sound like someone you'd love to go vintage shopping with?
Q. I love Lizzie's clothes in the book, especially the Lilly Pulitzer bathing suit and the Anne Fogarty linen dress. Are they based on real dresses you've had (or wished you had)?
First of all…love your site! It’s so adorable.
Okay, in answer to your question…I have a dear friend who is nuts for anything Lilly and I have to admit, she has passed the addiction on to me. I live in Key West, Florida, though, so everything is Lilly all the time here. My poor friend lives in Indiana and has to restrict her Lilly wearing to summer only, or she’d freeze to death. I do have about five Lilly bathing suits.
The Anne Fogarty dress was pure lust … I saw it online and fell in love with (it was way too small for me) but since my character worked in a vintage shop, I figured it was possible she could have snagged one like it at a discount in her own size at some point.
Q. Can you tell me a story about a dress that "got away"?
Oh! Well, yes, my mom’s prom dress. It wasn’t designer--she made it herself, my mom’s a fantastic seamstress--but I’ve seen photos, and it was this gorgeous off-the-shoulder pale blue chiffon number with a full skirt and crinoline, and pretty fake flowers between the boobs.
When I asked her what happened to it, she just shrugged like, “Why would I keep my old prom dress?” I have ALL my old prom dresses … and I didn’t even MAKE them! UGH! I still get depressed when I think about it. She gave it to Goodwill or something. Some lucky girl out there has my mom’s now vintage gorgeous handmade prom dress.
Q. What are you obsessed with, clothing-wise?
Jeans. I have yet to find a pair of jeans that actually look good on me. And I am 40. It’s so sad. I know I should just give up but I can’t. They have to be out there somewhere, right? But they all look terrible on me. Bootcut, stretch, you name it. But sometimes you just CAN’T wear a skirt [When? -- Ed.], and khakis, slacks, and cords look even worse on me. Don’t even talk to me about leggings. I’m just not a “pants” person.
Oh, great looking jeans…where are you????
Q. In the book, Lizzie dislikes low-rise jeans (and I don't blame her). If you could make one fashion-y thing disappear from the earth tomorrow, what would it be?
Anything with a designer’s name on it in large letters. Really, my hatred for all things Juicy borders on the pathological. I don’t mind if, for instance, Diane von Furstenberg is written in small writing subtly somewhere in the print of a dress, or the word Prada is on a buckle.
But I will not buy anything Juicy, or a Louis Vuitton bag with LV all over it, or Gucci or Chanel sunglasses with the giant G or CC (well, okay, not that I would buy these things anyway because they’re too expensive, but let’s say I was going to splurge) or even a scarf by these designers because the brand logo is so huge on them, it’s like you’re a walking advertisement for a product!
Okay, sorry, I just ranted. But you asked! I have to go drink some water to calm down now.
Q. I am always looking for an excuse to use the word 'bathos.' Were there any words you wanted to use in the book that you couldn't work in? Do you have favorite words in general?
Okay, back. Wow, bathos is good. I don’t think I’ve ever used that in a sentence (true confession: I had to go look it up). That is quite a word!
I can’t think of any favorite words. I guess I like them all. But “princess” has always had a tendency to leap out at me -- also “queen”…! I can’t think why… ;-)
Q. I loved Lizzie's "reading" of Luke's clothes on the train. Do you do a similar party trick?
I’m not as good at it as Lizzie! She can do it on the spot and it probably took me multiple days to write that scene. Plus Lizzie doesn’t misjudge people based on their clothes, and I do. I made the BIG mistake of judging my husband by how he was dressed at the party where I met him. I instantly dismissed him as a boring preppy (he does dress preppy … but he’s not boring, and he is actually a rebel at heart).
Years later I met him again and realized my mistake. If you had told me that day that I’d end up married to him, I’d never have believed you (also, I probably would have killed myself ... but then I was sixteen and a bit drama-prone)! But it’s probably just as well since I got to kiss all those frogs in between before finding my handsome prince (he would totally throw up if he saw I wrote that) ….
Q. Lizzie lost 30 pounds in three months before the book begins. How realistic do you think that is?
Well, with Atkins and daily aerobic exercise it’s possible, but of course in the sequel out at the end of this month, Queen of Babble in the Big City, Lizzie has gained it all back as she begins to eat normally again (actually, she gains a lot of it back in France, as soon as she starts eating bread). Hmmm. French bread.
Oh, sorry. I got distracted.
I actually lost that much weight that fast myself on Atkins once. But, like Lizzie, promptly put 20 pounds back on. But bread is so worth it.
And, like Lizzie, I find you can always wear Spanx to squeeze into those special somethings (and let out the waist a little).
Q. Was there a dress you wanted to work into the story, but couldn't?
Ha! That’s what sequels are for!
Actually, in Queen of Babble in the Big City, Lizzie gets a job as a vintage wedding gown restorer in New York City, so I was able to squeeze in tons more dresses for her (and wedding gowns). And I’m working on the third and final book in the series, which will be out next year, Queen of Babble Gets Hitched, in which, as the title suggest, Lizzie plans her own wedding … so there’s lots more “research” to do. If you can call it research when you get to spend all day looking up vintage dresses and wedding gowns online! It’s a tough job, but somebody has to do it!
Thanks for the opportunity to be interviewed on your site! It was really fun!
First of all, and I know this is the kind of thing only an editor would notice or appreciate, but one Joanne Paek is given credit, right on the cover, for technical writing. That's awesome, because, well, technical pattern writing is HARD. And no matter how good you are at the doing, the writing of the doing is a completely different skill. I really admire Kim (and her publisher, Potter Craft) for not only hiring a technical writer, but giving her prominent credit. That's a sign of a generous spirit and consideration for the readers.
And that generous spirit continues through the book. Kim outlines half-a-dozen classic hats with as many variations each. I'm not especially a hat person (okay, I love hats, but that thing you do when you look in the mirror and take one thing off before you leave the house? What usually comes off, in my case, is the hat) but I'm definitely going to make her beret, and probably the cloche and the fedora as well, if I can figure out a way to keep the latter two from fighting with my glasses. Some of her hats are worth wearing contact lenses for, and that's saying something.
One last thing: isn't that bib dress on the cover adorable! I love it with the fedora (although I also believe that cowboy boots are fashion-victimy nine times out of ten. Of course, every time I see that tenth woman on whom cowboy boots are *perfect*, I change my mind ...)
In my prowls through the library I came across this title, and I have to say I learned an enormous number of things from it, including:
Vogue, Butterick, and McCalls produced more than 600 patterns a year each in the 1930s and early 1940s, dropping to an average of 500 patterns a year thereafter. (And when you put it that way, I hardly have any patterns at all! Let's see, the 10 years of the 1950s times three pattern companies times 500 ... and that doesn't even count Advance or the newspaper pattern companies ... or modern patterns ... )
McCalls were the first printed patterns, patenting them in 1919. When the patent expired in 1938, most of the other pattern companies started using them, except for Vogue, which continued to use hand-cut patterns until 1956. McCalls was also the first company to produce patterns that were licensed copies of Paris designs.
The price of a Singer sewing machine in the 1860s was $100 -- $50 if you were the wife of a minister (which should tickle the writer of this funny and useful blog; thanks to Sendhil for the link!).
The Culture of Sewing also led me to this book (which I'll have to try to get from interlibrary loan), and this one, which I can't believe I didn't have, and will now have to buy.
All in all a successful read ... although some of the essays (it's a collection) were much too theoretical for my enjoyment, most of them were very good reads. One even had a word I can't find anything else about: humby, in this context:
Household duties -- worried over new poplin dress, bought last winter which is a perfect humby -- looking as if it were rough dried. Pressed it.
This is from the diary of a Susan McManus, in Philadelphia, in 1869. There was an actress named Humby about that time (it's a commonish surname) but I can't make any links or find evidence of other uses like this. Yet.
Is there anything more pleasurable than reading a good book about a subject you're fascinated by? (If there is, don't tell me, I have enough trouble keeping up with all I have to do already.)
[No cover image, as it's NSFW. It's an arresting and beautiful image, but I have to say that one of the New Laws of the Internet should be that if you want people to blog about your book, it helps to not put nekkid people on the cover.]
is probably one of the most seminal books in fashion, at least for me. I'd rank it right up there with Fashion is Spinach, and that's saying something. 
" and everyone else said "Yup," and moved on to the next title on the agenda.
, anytime soon.
is an adorable little book that is fueling my never-all-that-dormant desire to pay a visit to Scotland. (2009 *is* being promoted as 
is another book I'm not really the audience for. I figured this out along about page 10, where the author refers to a "frumpy fifties housedress." (I clutched my pearls and said "Well, I never!" Then I shook out my skirts.)
to review, and it's taken me a while to get to it, being neither perfect nor plus-size.
) and altering patterns that you really like.
is by Lucia van der Post, who is (was?) a columnist for the Times of London. (The book came out last year in the UK, I have the new Americanized edition.) I hadn't been a reader of Ms. van der Post's (and was dismayed to find that she thought the 
, reprinted. If it weren't for the URLs (and the odd mention of Uggs or Jennifer Aniston) there wouldn't be all that much to set it apart from those earlier books. And even the year's time since publication in the UK makes for some of those "window on an earlier era moments": Ms. van der Post recommends "Pepe jeans" as a good present for a "Young Boy," as well as "iPod socks." 
about Liberty in the 1950s and 1960s?
, which is subtitled "All You Need To Know to Start Sewing and Serging -- Today!" I'm not so sure about the "today" part -- it may take you a little time to round up the supplies you want -- but with a little stick-to-it-tiveness, you could be sewing tomorrow, or at the very least Sunday.
, Lizzie has gained it all back as she begins to eat normally again (actually, she gains a lot of it back in France, as soon as she starts eating bread). Hmmm. French bread.
