Slightly Guinness Induced Rant: Irish Dancing Dresses

Niece No. 1 (Vanessa): Snubbed me royally when I tried to get her to pose for a picture. Usually, I'm not used to this kind of treatment. I mean, I'm a cool aunt. I can do things that her parents can't or won't. For example, I let Vanessa watch "Dancing with the Stars" back when Julianne Hough and her partner, pony-tailed Olympian Apolo Anton Ohno, were fodder for gossip. She instantly had a crush on the guy, and all that glitter, faux tan, spandex made such a huge impact on her that she still talks about that one episode two years later. I wonder if the dress she's wearing above isn't a little boring for her taste? If so, in a few years she can graduate to the neon-hued dresses the older girls wear. Wait til the end of this post for a rant on these expensive dresses. I need to finish my Guinness and wipe off my foam mustache, ok?

No. 2 (Lucia) (middle two photos): She too snubbed me! I barely recognized in her wig, which I swear dwarfed her. She looked like she was drowning in dark brown ringlets. But she was a natural out on the dance floor, otherwise known as Tommy Nevin's Pub in Evanston. This is a girl so flexible she walks around with her toes curled under. Naturally, she has calluses in unusual places on her feet.

No. 3 (Elena): Younger than Vanesssa, older than Lucia, Elena also acted like she didn't know me! What is it? Do I smell or is it...I'm an adult just like all those parents in the room? That must be it. When it's just the two of us and the rest of the world, she will acknowledge me, beg me to swing her around until she's so dizzy she can barely stand, play games on my cell phone, dig around in my purse for make-up.

They all looked so cute in their dresses, which I know cost a small fortune (perhaps not Lucia's..hers appears simple). What is the appeal to having these garments made in Ireland? I know this dance, the costumes are all about tradition, but I studied these dresses...I saw laces and wovens that I know aren't from the Emerald Isle, but more likely the country shaped like a boot. So you have the bragging rights of having a dress made in Ireland...but it's really expensive (hundreds of dollars). The exact dress could probably made for less here in the U.S. with the identical materials. No one would know (unless you got 'em drunk on Beamish) that it was made in North America and not on the other side of the ocean. No one! Those crochet collars could be handmade by a granny or found in a thrift shop and stitched on with a sewing machine. All that embroidery? It's all done by machine, why not just hoop up the fabric and do the magic locally a Viking embroidery machine even if you had to rent it? Maybe when it's all said and done, adding up the labor and the lux fabrics, it comes still adds up to be an expensive dress. I just don't get sending hard-earned dollars overseas when the same thing could be stitched up within five miles of your own home. Loca-vores are all about eating vegetables grown practically in their backyards, why not do the same with expensive, custom clothes? If I had a little girl who wanted to get into this pricey hobby, I'd be firing up the sewing machine and scouring the remnants at Vogue Fabrics' bridal section faster than you can dial 847-864-9601. Tell me: Would a dancer be scorned if she wear a dress that her mom made not some sewer in Ireland?

The Best of the Tablecloth Dresses

(image: Flickr)

I couldn't help but notice the cutest little girls' dress on SugarcityLynn's Sugar City Journal, which got me thinking about the topic of tablecloth dresses. How many pictures of them must be uploaded onto the Internet. So I naturally Googled the words "tablecloth dress" to see what I could find. In my quest, I found the tablecloth-turned-dress is the topic of a play: "My Life in a Tablecloth Dress." I was disappointed to find there are no reality shows on this peculiar garment and picture books for six-year-olds either. Really. What little girl doesn't want to read about the misadventures of one of her peers in a dress made from a piece of fabric that usually covers a table? I would. You know only spilled Coke, lots of ants and giggles would ensue! Oh, and perhaps a bee sting, if only for some picturesque drama!

Back to my mission. Besides the above-mentioned play, I got lots of other hits on Google. I firmly ignored ready-to-wear (so no Betsey Johnson), just one-of-kinds. Most of what bubbled to the top was....sigh...for little girls. Here's one from Flickr, another adorable jumper, and a whole slew of dresses from tableclothes on Etsy: A Waverly fabric version, and Turquoise Daisies. Still I was delighted to find some for Girls Who Happen to Have Longer Legs and Slightly Older Hearts: the Slapdash Sewist's and An Embroidered One. I love this one, minus the cleavage.

I understand the yardage from a tablecloth is limited and works best for toddler's clothing, but there are cute and stylish possibilities out there especially if you're willing to cobble together several vintage tableclothes. The outcome doesn't have to look like Dorothy arrived from Kansas either. Technically, I'm not sure how to do it, although I know I've got a torn tablecloth in my linen closet. If I didn't already have an outstanding stash collection, I'd work that cover like a Project Runway business. There you have it, I'm just saying, not doing anything because I just did a whole afternoon's worth of stitching yesterday afternoon (a bathing, a mock-up for my hat class, and hemming a dress, pictures still to come), and I cannot start anything right now.

Would you sew an adult-sized dress made from a table linen?

Two Dresses in One Day*

I'm not particularly a whiz when it comes to let's crank it out and get it done today sewing. I tend to do things in stages. First, there's the picking out the fabric, letting it marinate in the bedroom closet stage. Then there's the "Oh, what could I do with this" part, which could actually be amount to several scenes in my own female version of Groundhog Day. The only variation of this part would be the mounds of clothes on my bed as I read patterns which be appropriate for a particular fabric. That goes for several months, even years. Actually my hair style might change besides the clothes atop my bedcovers.

So it was with great alacrity that I bought fabric and sewed it up in one day. Not only that, I made two dresses. So it was perhaps fours or so from the time the fabric was plopped into my Vogue Fabrics bag to the time I finished the rolled hem on my second dress. So what's my secret?

Elasticized fabric panels. But it's the nice stuff, nothing like the spools of the scratchy cheap cotton stuff you see parked by the Hancock's cash register. The panels I bought looks couture - it's rayon but it's got a silky metallic sheen and interesting pattern...butterflies fluttering all over. There isn't a spot of gingham print or Daisy Kingdom to be found anywhere on it. Thank goodness, which makes my dresses wearable to a wine tasting, wedding reception or a fancy-schmancy fund-raiser dinner. And the price is unbeatable. My source (who works both at Voge and the local Hancocks) tells me these Tres Chic dress panels are only a couple dollars more than their ugly counterparts (about $15 a piece).

It's funny that I even encountered these panels. I wasn't looking for love in the right places on my Sunday visit to Vogue Fabrics. I was coming off my volunteer stint at a street fair, feeling hot, ready to cool off inside. I wandered aimlessly: remmants, sale items, pattern section, silks, nothing new for these tired brown eyes. Oh yawn, wasn't it for a time for siesta? Then I saw this jumble of what looked like pricey taffeta or something or other on the counter. What was this? There was more of the same on hangers propped on shelves behind the counter.

Without making you fall asleep at your laptop, no sooner did I find out these were rapidly disappearing dress (or skirt, you pick) panels cuter than Snow White, I had to have these, especially since the olive green colorway was gone, completely sold out. So I snapped up the last of the brown/black combo, and another of the black/burgundy. I wasn't planning on buy anything at all when I entered the store, not even a needle or a button or a Burda World of Fashion Magazine. But I melted faster than a Hershey's chocolate bar on a car hood, and pulled out my Discover card so I could get these fabrics home pronto.

But I couldn't take a nap once I got home. I felt too guilty about my impulse purchase. I felt like I had to justify what I Just Done. So I did the only thing I could do: turned the "On" button on my surge protector that connects the Viking Husqvarna to the electrical outlet. And I sewed. Bed-time would have to wait.

I tackled the darker of the two panels first. I had this idea that I could make the dress reversible, but I realized it wasn't intended to be that way. Besides, the poufy pleats at the bust would be uncomfortable worn against the skin. That was after I did the rolled hem and straight-stitched the overlap connecting the two sides (I actually figured out that the hem-finishing should come last. More on that later). I finished that dress by using the faux serger stitch on my machine, trimming the edge, folding that over, and tacking that down with a straight stitch. Done! I wasn't too wild about my rolled hem which looked a little ragged because I had to force two pieces together that didn't match up.

The second dress went better. First, I "serged" ( I say this because I'm not using a serger) the back seam. Then I finished the bodice (serge, cut, top stitch). Finally, I did the rolled hem, making the width of stitch smaller (2.5 wide as opposed to the normal 4.o). That hem looks a little better. Done! Three, easier-than-slicing onions steps! I couldn't believe how fast I was. I thought perhaps my unknownst to me a twin (the one that feels guilty) had stepped in and masterminded all this stitch-witchery.

Here are some things I learned:

* Really Focus on the Hem. A rolled hem is easy if you have the proper foot. Starting it as a bit harder since you have to feed the fabric into the foot, and hold it with your fingers like you're about to sneeze until you're done so that it continues to furl inside the foot while you're sewing, if that makes any sense. If you blow it, you can always cut it off and start anew. I might do that with dress no. 1.

* The bodice can look a bit plain if you're not used to sleeveless dresses. I thought about putting in straps (matching or contrasting bra straps are $2 at Vogue) or some black elastic ruffle normally used in underwear to jazz it up, but I couldn't find the latter at Vogue (the trims section is a bit lacking at this store. This is where a trip to New York City or the Internet comes in handy). I'm certain there are other ways to make the dress more festive. Right now, I'll just wear the dress with a knitted bolero jacket and a pretty necklace.

* No fiddling with making the hem even! I normally spend a couple of hours just on this part alone. I put the dress on my mannequin, pin, pin and pin at knee-length where I should cut. However, with this, there was none of that. Absolutely zilch! I don't worry about it being lower or higher than a Gulf of Mexico levy; I can simply adjust at the bodice while I'm wearing the dress. You know all that tugging up you do when you're wearing a strapless dress. That's my instant hemline adjustment on these dresses.

* One dress is not enough! Especially when you can whip this up as quickly as I did. If you're interested at all in these pancake-mix-quick dresses, I'd call Vogue Fabrics and ask for the silk room. Tell 'em that you're interested in the elasticized dress panels. As I said earlier, the burgundy's the only one left. If you don't want to make a dress, you could make a skirt, but it's going to be pretty high-waisted, which isn't flattering for all body types. A dress is more universally flattering. If you think one panel won't be enough, buy two and that should be plenty. You just have one more seam to stitch! You can still finish it in time to go out to the supper club tonight.

* Hamlet helps me model the burgundy version. I'll upload pictures of the other soon.

Summer Dresses Vs. Winter Dresses*

It's not quite what you think. The summer dresses are not duking it out with their winter counterparts in the closet. I was just pondering aloud about what I like in summer dress versus the same kind of garment worn the rest of the year.

Summer Dresses
1) Will it breathe? Fabric has to be supremely comfortable - 100 percent cotton or linen is ideal, but a blend is ok, although I will bypass the poly/cotton eyelet that I see parked on the walls at Vogue Fabrics. I can spot that stuff an armslength away along as I have my contacts on. The giveaway? The shiny, polyester thread. Blech. This fabric is just flimsy, and has no heft like the completely natural eyelet does. Besides, it just looks cheap. Another cottony fabric I like a lot is lawn - one sprinkled with bright and cheery florals is perfect. Ok, I'm walking through the store mentally right now. Another fabric I've my brown eyes on is this gold metallic Georgia mud dirt 100 percent linen from Italy. I think this particular fabric is like $14.99 a yard, not bad considering it's from a country shaped like a shoe with prices that feel like a kick in the pants. I could see that made up in a floaty strappy dress that will feel awesome especially in mucky August.
2) Can I layer it? This is also quite important since you can go from 90 degree weather to a 60 degree weather in a nano second, and that's not just because you're inside an air-conditioned office. If a particularly cold breeze blows through town, you need to be prepared. If you're near the lake (Michigan), you're going to feel colder than an ice cube in a freezer tray. Sitting in the shade will do the same thing. Layering for me in the summer usually means whipping on a jean jacket, but I despise carrying around the same. I'm not one to wear sweaters in the summer, not even lightweight cotton ones. For me it's a jean jacket or a straight-jacket.
3) How about a hat? Can I wear it with a hat? Yes, a lid of some sort is probably the quickest, easiest, most sane way to get warm in a hurry. Besides, it's so portable. If it's squishable, you can just put in your purse and go. If the temperature drops, pull it out. Now, it might not keep you warm in the same way a jacket or a sweater would, but it'll at least keep you from getting too cold. Or at least keep you from freezing until you can get somewhere warmer like a car or a campfire. A hat is also handy if it starts raining, and you're caught without an umbrella. It will keep your hair somewhat dry while the rest of you get damp. It also insulates you in the event you become wet and cold. If I wear hat that doesn't fit inside my purse, I make sure to bring a plastic bag, in the event the sky dumps water on me unexpectedly. That way my super-cute straw hat can stay dry while the rest of me is drenched. Yes, I'll be shivering but at least my pricey sun hat will remain in shape and dry.
4) How cute does it look with sandals? This is a fairly important question for me, because I live in sandals and wedgies nearly every day during June, July, August and sometimes September. So anything on the top of my body has too coordinate with what's on the bottom. Now that I really think about it, most dresses I own would look cute with sandals, especially my Borns which have interchangeable flowers. I probably need to deliberate more about whether my feet have a decent pedicure more than about whether my footwear goes with my dressware.

Winter Dresses
1) Can it Be Layered? During the cold winter months, I'm more like to put layers beneath my clothes than on top. I'll start with a tank top and put on tights. I'll slip on the dress over that. If that's not enough to keep me from quaking like a leaf, I'll put on a shawl on my shoulders or a sweatercoat. If that doesn't do the trick, clearly I need to move somewhere warmer. I won't quibble with the fabric quite as much during the month of my birth (November) as long as I can bundle up and keep my teeth from chattering. That said, it's not likely you'll find me in eyelet or linen on December 1. But I might still wear a jersey knit wrap dress, but I won't wear it the same way I might wear on July 1.
2) Does it look good with boots? Not all dresses can be worn with boots. I find I can wear virtually anything, including burlap, with sandals. Not so with boots. I don't like when the top of my boots clashes with my dress hem or worst yet, its beneath the dress. When I walk you see the bulge of my boots beneath my dress. From afar, it looks like I've got shin guards on, or I'm going to kneel down and do some garden work. I'm not opposed to wearing boots during summer but they have to stay a good distance away from any hems, particularly those on dresses and skirts. There will be no fighting between leather and softwoven goods. Not even flirting.
3) Can I wear a coat with it? Now I really don't like to wear a long dress with a three-quarter length jacket. It just looks like I fled a fire and I don't have anything else to wear. If I'm going to wear something floaty that skims my ankles I'll wear a wrap, shawl or even a lengthy sweater coat.
4) Who cares how it looks with a hat! It's nice that by this time of the year, I don't give an owl's hoot about how my hat looks with my clothes. By now, any dress I don is hidden underneath my coat. You can barely see it.

What about you? What's important in a summer dress?
* The dress above? It's another surplice-wrap dress, made from fabric from Metro Textiles in New York. The shoes are a well-loved 1940s pair of suede platforms.