Everything's Cooler with a Cape

I think this dress is aDORable. The pockets! The buttons! The CAPE! So cute. Even though the women in the illustration are obviously deciding which of the cater-waiters they will later kill, dismember, and eat.

This is also one of those rare pattern envelopes where I would follow the suggested color schemes slavishly. Red gingham-y print? Sure. Yellow poplin? You betcha. Then I'd make one in grass green, with white trim.

Even better? This pattern is on sale! That's right, Lisa at yourpatternshop is celebrating her one-year anniversary with a sale going on now. All items have been marked down 15% and can be used in combination with the "dressaday" code for free shipping to USA and Canada buyers. Happy Anniversary, Lisa!

Where to Draw the Line

SewStylish is having a Spring Sewing Contest, and GertieT emailed me to let me know that her adorable dress has made the finals (it's there up above). Go check out the other two dresses, too, and vote! Voting closes TONIGHT (the 16th) at midnight.

She also wanted to let me know that several of the less-courteous commenters had said things like "Your tattoos are disqusting [sic]......I wouldn't vote for your dress even if I liked it...." and "too bad!!! [about the tattoos] coz the dress is lovely!!!"

C'mon, people. This is how it goes. You can certainly refuse to vote for a dress if you don't like GertieT's tattoos -- it's your right to cast a vote based on any criteria you like. However (just so you know) you pretty much make yourself look like a blithering idiot by commenting to that effect. What will those comments accomplish? GertieT getting hers lasered off? (No.) Will they prevent some other person from getting a tattoo? (Unlikely.) All they do is make you look like narrow-minded ignoramuses.

Now, if this had been an actual moral issue -- say, one of the contestants had been convicted of assault, or was an avowed racist, or something like that -- I think you would be within your rights to announce WHY you weren't voting for a particular candidate. But because you don't like tattoos? Sheesh.

Now, I'm not a huge fan of tattoos. What does this mean? It means *I* don't have one. I've never found any image that I liked enough to want to make a permanent part of my skin. But that doesn't matter -- what other people do with their skin is no concern of mine. And it's certainly not pertinent to the questions at hand, which is: "What's the nicest dress?"

The contest wasn't SewStylish's Spring Beauty Contest -- it was a sewing contest! It takes a lot of gumption to pose for a contest picture, and if there are going to be these sorts of ad hominem comments, I bet there will be fewer contestants next round. What if next time one of the contestants is "overweight" (whatever that means) or is "too goth" (as if there was any such thing) or has an unusual hairstyle (whatever that is) or, heaven forbid, has something pierced other than her ears?

I don't want to be all "Oh noes! People are mean on the Internets!" but really, sewing people, I expect better from YOU. So if you're ever tempted to make this kind of comment, safe and protected behind your keyboard, think about how you would feel if a bunch of bozos decided to leave similar comments about you.

It's the Golden Rule, peoples. It's not difficult. Or if the "unto" in the Golden Rule trips you up, you can ask yourself two simple questions: "Is it truthful? Is it kind?"

"lovely, clever, labor-intensive"

"Lovely, clever, labor-intensive" was how Robin described the dress in this eBay auction, and I just love it. I am loving it from afar, though, because it's $160. I don't even think I'm going to attempt this myself, although I'm always tempted to be clever with striped fabric. There's clever, and then there's too clever by half, and every time I veer into "too clever by half," I wind up with something that never gets finished, much less worn.

(I actually just put a lot of "unfinished business" -- i.e., projects that I finally accepted that I'm never coming back to -- in the box for the Salvation Army today. There are still a few "somedays" left hanging in my sewing room, but they're precious few.)

I'm trying to let go of a lot of "somedays", or "just-in-cases", especially when it comes to books and fabric. If I am not head-over-heels in love with fabric, I think it's going to leave me in search of a more appreciative owner. And if I take a book off a shelf, open it, and don't feel like sitting down to read a few pages, it might wander off, too.

The Internet has obviated the need for hoarding, in my opinion. For instance, years ago I bought a copy of this book. It was a dollar, and it looked interesting, so I bought it, and read it. (I really liked it, although its author has the prejudices of his time and the vocabulary to match.) But now (as that link suggested), it's available online, and I don't have to hold on to my copy for fear that if I let it go, I wouldn't be able to find it again. Google can hold on to it for me — and I can download the PDF (it's well out of copyright) and have it on my hard drive in reserve against any Chicago-meatpacking-magnate's-advice-to-his-son emergencies.

Of course, you can't download fabric and keep it on your hard drive (although I'm sure my long-suffering husband wishes you could!) but I don't feel the need to hold on to "eh" or "just-in-case" fabric when a few clicks will take me to plenty of fabric that makes me say "ah" instead ... and when I already have enough "ah" fabric to swathe my entire house, Christo-style, if I felt like it.

(Another thing the Internet is making it easy to let go of is petty resentments. If I want to feel angry and pissed off, there are plenty of places I can go online to read stuff that will make my blood boil. Why carry that around with me in the meantime?)

What is the Internet helping you let go of?

A new twist

Check out this stunner from Dorothea's Closet on eBay. I love the way the straps attach to the bust.

I know the weather is about to change soon (it's been unseasonably warm here in Chicago these last two weeks) as I have had one last gasp of mooning over summer dresses, especially sundresses.

This is completely unreasonable, as I am not a sundress person. Dresses, yes, sundresses, no. I think the last sundress I was completely happy with was a cherry-print number with a ruffled hem and spaghetti straps. (It also had an elastic-smocked bodice, because I was ten.)

This dress might convert me to sundress-person mode -- especially the one made up in a border print. I'd love to try this in stripes, too! Or gingham. Or (it goes without saying) polka dots.

If you want to get a jump on next summer, you could do worse than buying this pattern. In fact, I think looking at this might be nearly as effective as those lightboxes in treating seasonal affective disorder.