The Living Is Easy. Or Not. Whatever.

So when it's snowing (which it is here right now), your sewing mind naturally turns to... summer dresses. Naturally.  Well, mine did because yesterday I received the Spring 2010 Papo D'Anjo catalog.

Ah, Papo D'Anjo.  I have a sort of love-hate relationship with them.  Liberty fabrics? Check.  Classic styles.  Check check.  $250 for a child's dress.  Che-- uh.  Wait.  What?  No.

However, this catalog is an inspiration for planning a little girl's spring and summer wardrobe if you are inclined towards the classical in clothing.  If you are in the habit of making traditional little girl's dresses, this catalog will no doubt alternately amuse, enthrall and irritate you because these dresses are basically what you already make at home.  If you charged $200 for them.  Which is about $200 more than most of you charge right now, right?

 
Check out this new item, as shown below.  The “cross-back sunsuit”.  I have no less than three patterns for this outfit and when my kids were babies they wore these all summer long.  I didn't charge them $70.  I'm not saying I shouldn't have... but I didn't.   They do take up a massive amount of fabric, so at least that justifies the cost somewhat.

 

One of the Big4 always has some version of this pattern in stock.  Always.  Butterick has it right now:

Doesn’t this just shout “summer picnic”?  Every summer I try to make at least a few traditional sundresses for my kids.

I still have some pieces of floral lawn that I got last summer from the fabulous Farmhouse Fabrics.  They have lovely fabrics at good rates-- not super-cheap to buy but high quality and worth the price.  (And I have no affiliation of course, I'm just a big fan.)

I still have this fabric, which is one of my all-time favorite prints:

 

And here's a dress I made for TLo last summer.  I used the cotton lawn from Farmhouse (which they still have in several colorways), fine cotton pique for the collar and cotton batiste for the bodice lining.  It’s a little messy looking here because strangely enough it’s been hanging in the closet for four or five months.

My original plan was to do a lace insertion on the front bodice, but I had absolutely no luck with it and it kept pulling apart at the seams. I didn’t have enough fabric to recut the bodice, so I finally decided to do a fix with pique insertions instead, which didn't go so well because of the bulk.  I was also going to do some sort of piping or trim on the collar, but I decided it was a bit too heavy already and to just Let. It. Go.  So it’s not quite as nice as I was planning, but it’s ok.

 

I can't tell you what pattern I used, because I basically mashed this together myself by altering  a drop-waisted bodice from another dress into an empire waist, changing it from a front button placket to a back button placket, adding a lining and then creating the skirt out of a rectangle of fabric.  I drafted the collar to match the neckline of the bodice.  If I could remember what bodice I started with I would tell you but I can't and frankly at this point it probably doesn't matter anyway.

And that is today’s little walk through the sunshine.  Well, I guess I'm off to shovel some snow off the driveway.  Ahhhh... makes you think of halter tops, right? 

(Edit: And just so you don’t think I’m completely deranged, I do realize that this little dress isn’t anything like as nice as the catalog dresses above.  I’m not totally delusional.  It’s just that this is the only one I have that I could find and that I remotely remembered how I made.  You just wait, Doubting Susans, this summer I will have a plethora, plethora I tells ya, of nifty summer clothing to show off.  I will.  No, I am not being defensive.   I am not!  Quit saying that!)

Ich bin ein... uh... Wiener.

So I know these little chats we have about image collections are just so important to you.  Yes.  They are.  You know they are.

Because you just couldn't get through your sad dreary day without more pretty pictures to distract you-- oh wait.  That's me.  Well, whatever.  Here's another batch of things to look at.

So.  Did I ever mention that my grandmother was from Vienna?  Well she was.  Oh man, was she.  Picture growing up with... say... Greta Garbo.  Only, you know.  If she was an executive assistant instead of a movie star.  My grandmother could get some serious European on.  This is a woman who could tie a scarf in twenty fabulous different ways while simultaneously putting on lipstick, doing her hair and discussing international politics.  While blindfolded.  And chain smoking Camel straights.  Throw in a Liberty of London blouse, some cork-heeled wedges and a cup of espresso and you have my grandmother circa 1974.  She was the best.

I have a point.  My point is, my grandmother loved loved loved all things Wiener Werkstätte.  That movement was pretty much over by the time she was a small child, but clearly it had some sort of deep influence on her.  Which she passed on to me, apparently.  Because I too love all things Wiener Werkstätte.

Unfortunately, I have yet to find a dedicated or substantial online image resource for this work.  Therefore I'm forced to gather up little bits and pieces here and there, which isn't very satisfying.  It also means I am now required to spend $39.00 on the "Textiles of the Wiener Werkstatte: 1910-1932" book I found on Amazon.com.  Forced, I tell you! 

However, I had to share this online find:

 painted silk shoes, c. 1914

I love these shoes.   I found these on ArtLex.com under the “costume” page.

And not so coincidentally, these are the shoes I wore to work today.

Converse basketball shoes, c. 2006

Yes.  That is a Liberty of London “Ianthe” reproduction print on Jack Purcells. 

Maybe I can’t wear a scarf to save my life, but when it comes to shoes I can hold my own, baby.

And finally: If you have knowledge of a good consolidated online image library of Secession craftwork, pleeeease share!  Pretty please.

Chipper. Not the wood kind.

All day Monday I thought it might just possibly be Thursday.  Or more accurately, I hoped it might.  This isn’t really a good sign for the rest of the week, but I have determined to be cheerful and positive.  No, really.  I have.  Yes.  Me.  I am not making that up.

However, because the day was just too exhausting for words, I did not even remotely have any intention of sewing something.  In fact, I counted myself pretty lucky to have slumped down in my chair to watch the second half of “The Women".  No, not the fabulously over-the-top 1939 version starring the fabulous Norma Shearer with fabulous supporting performances by the fabulous Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, Joan Fontaine, et al.  No.  I mean the horrid 2008 version.  Yes.  That is how tired I was.  All I can say is Clare Booth Luce must be spinning in her grave.

So while I did not in fact do anything sewing related, I did manage to put the entire Burda World of Fashion Skirt Fiasco behind me and make a firm decision to Move On.  Um.  I didn't quite get to the What To Move On To part, but hey, it's a start.   Those Burda women will not get me down!  And yes, it is totally their fault that I keep laboring under the delusion that I am, in fact, 6 feet tall and not, in fact, 5 feet tall.  That is their fault!

Ahhhhh… in with the good air… out with the bad air…

In the meantime, here's another good image library link.  This is the Bridgeman Art Library based in the UK.  They have a nice collection of online resources that are relatively easy to sort through by topic.  And yes, they have a textile section (look under the "Crafts and Design" sub-heading).  The images are sometimes watermarked in places that obscure your view and there isn't an option to zoom in, which is unfortunate since there are tons of things that I would like to see more closely.  But for a quick eye-candy fix, this is a great stop.

Here's a random sampling:

cotton block printed dress, French, 18th C. 

fabric swatches and fashion sketches, 20th C.

woven scarf, 20th C

pre-Columbian embroidery, 12th – 13th C.

Coptic shroud, painted fabric, 4th C.

 Mexican embroidery sampler, 19th C.

lining from boy’s coat, Russian, 19th – 20th C.

Roller-printed chintz, English, 19th C.

cotton curtain, English, 19th C.

And now I have to feed my starving family.  Assuming I can scavenge something.  I’m like a wild puma that way.