Almost immediately following my last collaboration with the amazing Lucy Baribeau, where we brought one of my most coveted vintage trompe l’oeil prints into a modern day reality, we started chatting about the next colorway. Truthfully, they have all stolen my heart in different ways, and it was only a matter of time before each one ventured to my sewing table…
I was feeling pretty bolstered by my last sewing project and almost immediately jumped to the next. Given I have about 50 things in my head at any one time I want to create, plus an overflowing tailoring pile, the time I have never quite meets the time I need for sewing. However, after kicking the Imposter Syndrome squarely in the eye with my Garden of Eden dress, I didn’t stop to doubt myself and simply plunged on ahead.
I think we can all fall victim to a bit of Imposter Syndrome – you know, where despite your talent and skill, you feel that you really don’t know anything. And that it’s just a matter of time before your secret is revealed and you’re outed as a fraud. I think I’ve been internalizing this Imposter Syndrome with my sewing – despite the number of projects I’ve accomplished, I’ve always chalked it up to luck or the help that I’ve had along the way…
There are some projects that simply take forever. Not because they’re particularly complicated, but because life just… happens. Several years ago now (it’s actually embarrassing to think about how long ago it was…), I started to draft this dress. Like most of my creations, she was born from a true vintage piece that could never be mine. And as with most unrequited loves, I forlornly tucked her into the back of my mind. But, I never forgot her.
I’ve never been one to take something at face value. I’ve written before about how we can get creative with our clothes – use a hatbox as a handbag, wear a belt as a headband, and dig into your earring collection as a means to spruce up your lapel. And I feel my eyes are always scanning for things to be used in a manner they were potentially never intended.
One of my favorite dressmaking adventures ever, The Counterdanse, was featured on the website Cut Out + Keep! You can head over to see my step by step tutorial on embellishing the skirt of my dress. They also interviewed me for the site, to get my thoughts on my style, my fashion icons, and some of my favorite blogs.
One of the greatest things in my life is being able to watch my niece grow up – granted, much of this observing has to be done from afar via FaceTime, but every time I get to spend time with her I’m in awe of the person she is becoming. The amazing person she already is. My second greatest thing is probably the fact that, for every dress I make myself, I can make her a miniature version and marvel in the unending cuteness.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – one of the best parts of learning how to sew for me is the ability to see a dress that is very likely to be forgotten or discarded, and give her the opportunity to feel like new again. I spied this cherry red cutie at Pursuing Andie Vintage – an absolutely stunning Vicky Vaughn with lace trimmed collar and sleeves and a scalloped drop waist, all wrapped up in a cloud of dotted swiss adorableness.
This dress was (and still is) a bit of a wounded bird. She has definitely been worn and very, very loved in her time (which makes her all the more beautiful, in my opinion!) There is some color beed from the red panels, scattered pinholes holes here and there, and several popped seams that needed reinforcing. There was also a fair bit of wear and tear and staining on the shoulders from years of love and (I hope) some serious time spent on the dance floor. As she was a bit on the petite side for me anyway, I decided to pull…
My latest sewing project started as so many often do: with an Idea. At a few points in my vintage hunting, I would come across vintage painted mexican skirts or vintage square dancing skirts that had images of dancing couples, with the figures wearing actual miniature skirts. I was so smitten with the 3D quality of them – the idea that there was a miniature world within the skirt, like when you hold up two mirrors opposite each other, creating smaller and smaller landscapes inside.