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This pic, of two dresses from my closet — yep, my very own — illustrates many reasons why I want to learn to sew. Shall I list them? You’re holding your breath until I do, right? Therefore, sharing is a life-saving gesture. So, here ya go. (I’m such a selfless heroine. Just leave my Girl Scout badge at will-call. I’ll pick it up later.)
4. I love this pattern. It’s sleek. It has the 1950s feel, yet it also seems modern. It’s Lucy meets Donna Karan. It’s comfortable. It twirls on the dance floor like a lazy Susan in the hands of a bored 2-year-old. A local dressmaker made the royal blue one, and I liked it so much that I wanted another. That brings us to . . .
5. The dressmaker — let’s call her Elouise — was apparently having a very bad day when she made the gray and blue version. Very bad indeed. The collar does not lay properly. The buttonholes are a mess. Really. Stringy. Most unprofessional. Even though the fabric is a yummy cotton cashmere, I rarely wear this one. Now, if I had made it myself . . . It would look even worse? Did you really say that? Hush! Hush, hush, hush. Keep those negative comments to yourself.
6. And a major perquisite of patterns: If you like the garment, you can make another. And another. And another. And so on. Which eventually makes the pattern a bargain, even if you could have bought a house in Nebraska for the same price. And then there are the tears you won’t shed when you wear out a favorite dress, because, of course, you can simply stitch up another. In the fabric of your choice. With the buttons of your choice. And the belt of your choice. You get my drift, I know. You are smart cookies. That's why you read this blog. You cannot hide your intelligence from me.
7. You can personalize the dress, and not just with fabric and buttons. You can do fun things like add horsehair to the hem if you’re a dancer. A little horsehair makes the skirt really fly. Totally out there. You could add sequins. Or beads. Or ric-rac. If that's your thing.
8. You're not likely to run into your dress on someone else at your favorite bistro. It's unique. It's yours alone. It will show who you really are.
And, of course, I am one stylish and classy female. And I am not hiding my light under any bushel. And that includes my sewing talents. No giggling. No sneering. Stop it. Stop it! Now this minute!
Oh, enough about sewing. Enough about patterns. Send in Armand Assante. I'm listening to Linda Ronstadt's Frenesi, one of my absolute all-time favorite albums, and it always reminds me of The Mambo Kings, which always reminds me of that fabulous dance with the scarf.
Yeeeeeoooooooowwww. Let me repeat that. Yeeeeeoooooooowwww. You can have Antonio Banderas. The dregs, I know. The very bottom of the barrel. Oh well. Suffer. I'll think of you while I rumba through my dreams with Mr. Assante. Wearing a dress I made myself. Beautifully.