The Blue Gardenia learns to sow her blossoms

Channeling Catherine: Timeless face. Timeless coat.

Mesmerizing beauty: Undeniable.

Creamy double-breasted coat: Timeless.

Pour La Victoire Bre Black flat, $190 at Endless.com: Elegant.

Vogue Paris Original 1675 Designed by Yves Saint Laurent, $57 at The Blue Gardenia: Time-saver.

Calling all customers: May I share your vintage pattern story?

As many of you know, I requested your input. I practically begged. Pleaded. Beseeched. One suggestion that came through loud, clear: Feature patterns on this blog that were purchased at The Blue Gardenia. Patterns actually stitched by customers. Patterns that have gone from dreams into reality.

I like this idea. I really, really do. So. If you would be kind enough to participate, let me know. I'll send you a brief questionnaire. And, of course, I'll need a picture. Or two.

And if you haven't shared your opinion, do. And enter our giveaway. The deadline draws near.

Shameless plug: Evening gown extravaganza. Day dress drama.

There. Some alliteration. I know. Dreadful. Cheap. But amusing to the easily amused. And that would be me. Sometimes.

Anyway. It's that time again, dearest readers. Yep. We've added more vintage patterns. More! We have. And this time, we've really outdone ourselves. (In my most humble opinion, that is.)

You'll find additions in all decade categories, as well as Lingerie, Bridal, Accessories and Aprons. Lots. Lots of stunning and pretty and smart vintage styles. Advance Imports. Vogue Couturier Designs. Vogue Paris Originals. Spadea. Even a 1940s coverall fit for Rosie the Riveter. And on. And on. Wow! Wow. (If I do say so my very own self.) A few highlights, if you'll indulge me — and yourselves, too, of course. Because this fashion show is truly a visual feast. Absolutely. Even if you don't make a purchase. But. Naturally, I want you to purchase and purchase and purchase and purchase . . . you get my drift. 

It's a chilly evening. It is. Even though it's June, the winds are brisk and cool. But you must go out tonight. A formal affair. Aren't you glad you whipped up Butterick 1240 in May? You are. The dress is stunning. The drapery so elegant. So very. And it has that beautiful jacket. It does. The details: Evening gown and jacket. Bust 38. Complete except for back facing. $125. 

You have a charity event in July. A ball. You want to look elegant. Beautiful. Absolutely. Very Ingrid Bergman in Indiscreet. What better choice than Vogue Couturier Design 771?  Yards of chiffon or marquisette. Yards. More than thirteen. 13 5/8, to be exact. The details: Evening dresses. Size missing, but most likely bust 32 or 36. Complete; skirt piece divided into two pieces. Copyright 1953. $75.

And then there's the ballroom dance in August. Again, formal. And you want to look sensational. Sexy. Vogue Couturier Design 773, with its saucy bolero and haute couture gown, is the perfect ensemble. With their first glance at you, all the men in the room will be as stunned as if you had Tazed then. You love the style. And you'll love its affects. The details: Evening dress and bolero. Bust 32. Complete except for easily duplicated skirt stiffening. Copyright 1953. $150.

And for a more comfortable evening at home, wear McCall 3817.  If I were the bossy sort, I would insist. I would. Perfect dinner party attire: It's feminine. Subtle. Dare I say it: Ladylike. You love this one. You do. Especially the long, full sleeves. Details, details, details: Evening dresses. Bust 38. Still in factory folds. Copyright 1940. $150.

And for your mod moments — drat, alliteration again — try Vogue Couturier Design 1680. A Belinda Bellvlle design.  It's sleek. It's yummy. And it has pockets! You can pack your lipstick and ID inside. No need to carry an evening bag. None at all. How cool is that? Very. Very. Very. The details: Evening dress designed by Belinda Bellville. Bust 31. Complete. $125.

And there's more. Much. So many designers. Even a 1950s Trigere and Givenchy. So glamorous. So hard to find.

So. Rush over to The Blue Gardenia, where the patterns are counted, the jewelry is sparkling, and domestic shipping is free. (We happily ship abroad, of course, although there is a fee, less than the postal service charges us. You may choose Global Priority or Global Express. We love them both. We do.) And we take American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa. And cold, hard cash. Anything to make you happy, dears. Anything. Almost.

Uncage your inner Rosie the Riveter, Doris Day, baby chick, etc.

It's that time again, dear readers, time to sit down and treat yourself to a few something-somethings from The Blue Gardenia. More than 70 luscious pattern additions, from the cutest little girl's apron to a Rosie the Riveter jumpsuit. May I add add a few pics to tantalize you, to lure you into opening your wallet? Of course, I may. So here goes:

Advance 2795: If you read Erica B.'s DIY Style, then you know she's already whipped up three jumpsuits this year. This Advance from the 1940s adds that Rosie touch. It's a Bust 38, and it's $45. And you know how hard these 1940s jumpsuit patterns are to come by.

McCall's 4461: Channel Doris Day in this smart ensemble. A skirt. And an overblouse. Perfect for a business lunch. Or a lunch of the more personal sort. Bust 34. $33.

Vogue Couturier Design 1488: It's sleek. It's chic. It's oh-so irresistible. It's a Bust 38. It's $75. And it's a design from Simonetta. 

McCall's 2199: Adorable. Totally. Can you resist little baby chicks? Can you? Say no. This one's a Breast 30, and it's $25.

You'll also find additions in the 1920s, 1930s, children and men sections. Don't tarry. You don't want to miss these smashing styles. You don't.

The fine print: New patterns go at the beginning of each category. We take Amex, Discover, Mastercard, Paypal and Visa. And, yep, we do ship abroad. With pleasure.

Learning to sew: Meet my new project, a "Mad Men" pencil skirt

And the winner is . . . loud beating of drums and clashing of cymbals . . . the waist 30. It is, as you may remember, dear readers, 1/2" too small in the waist, but it fits perfectly in the hips. The pattern is McCall 5082, copyright 1959. It's a staple. Truly. If I do a good job, this is a skirt I'll wear again. And again. And again. And again. You get the picture. 

The fabric I've chosen is black cotton-linen with the tiniest bit of stretch. I've had it for many years. I love it. I do. Absolutely. I confess my heart beats a little fast at the thought that I might ruin it. Do any of you ever have that fear when cutting into a beloved piece of fabric? Nightmares abound. 

I especially want to work on my hand-hemming technique this time around. The exterior looked terrific in the Asian skirt. Not so the inside. Alas. And, of course, there's the zipper. Oh my. Doubtless you remember, dearly beloved readers, the mess I made of the centered zipper on the sewing machine in the Asian skirt. I do. How can I forget when I see it each time I wear the skirt. Heavy sigh. Dramatic sigh. I'm going to do a side-lapped zipper this time, and I think I'll do it by hand. Any advice?

So. I've laundered the fabric. Twice. Next, pressing. Then, gulp, cutting. Fingers crossed.

Learning to sew: The Asian skirt is finished . . .

And tomorrow, I promise, I will put on makeup. And shoes. And model it for you. However, today, I am lazy. Enervated. After all, I have been hemming. And pressing. And grocery shopping. A woman has to eat. Right? 

So. I ask your advice about the size pattern I should choose for my next project, McCall 5082, copyright 1959. When I measured my waist, I found a surprising benefit of my dedication to Pilates: a loss of 3 1/2". Delicious. Yes. Excellent. Absolutely. Of course, I do not have a pattern that fits perfectly. I can choose a pattern 1/2" too small or 1 1/2" too large. Dear readers, dear sewists, what should I do?  The 30" waist size fits perfectly in the hips. Should I go right? Or left? Up or down? Oh, the quandary. I await your replies. I await your advice.

And tomorrow, I'll post pictures of the Asian skirt. Up close. Personal. Every flaw revealed. Can you stand it? I hope so.

A one-shoulder playsuit with a wrap skirt. Can life get any better?

It's sweltering outside. The thermometer outside your kitchen window rose to 93. 93! And that is in the shade. Aren't you happy you stitched up Vogue 5283, circa 1960s, this weekend? You're delighted, actually. It's sassy. It's sexy. It's cool. Just the attire for your summer vacation. And if you decide to go into town tonight for dinner, you have only to throw on the handy wrap skirt and some coral lipstick, and you are set. Wow. Sewing is grand. It is. Absolutely.

And, yes, this pattern can be yours. Just drop by The Blue Gardenia.

Dinner with friends, and you felt fine in your 1930s dress.

 
You sit on the sofa, feet tucked beneath you, and ponder the evening. A success. Truly. Excellent company. Articulate. Kind. With an ample and intelligent sense of humor. Delicious food. The grilled salmon salad was worthy of a five-star restaurant. Beloved hubby outdid himself. The table was beautiful. You chose Venture china from the 1960s. Sleek. Modern. Black and ivory. Matching stemware. Gossamer sterling. Sarah Vaughan and Bill Evans on the stereo. And you did not have to fret over your dress. You looked good — well, perhaps even beyond good, to be immodest – in Simplicity 1935, from the 1930s. You made the sleeveless dress in 4-play silk crepe the color of apricot skin. With covered buttons. You'll wear it again and again. And again. You'll use this pattern again and again, too. So sleek. So comfortable. Absolutely. 

Available at The Blue Gardenia. Of course. 

The perfect dress for coffee with friends.

There was a time when I dressed for work each day. I donned a sharp suit,  a smart dress, cloying pantyhose and sassy 4-inch heels, and I went to the office. No longer. I work at home now. And I live in a very casual town, a town where onlookers do not frown at me if I wear my yoga clothes (bless you, Lycra) to Costco.

But I have aspirations, aspirations to look stylish once more. I do. So. So. Heavy sigh. I also don't want to buy clothes made in China or Taiwan. I'm old enough to remember those "Look for the union label" commercials". They left a mark on this formerly impressionable kid. They did.

But, to be frank — and you know I generally am —  my budget (heavy, drawn out sigh) does not allow clothes made in the USA, assuming my local Dillard's even stocked them. (And, alas, a recent research trip there did not reveal a single garment made here in the good ole US of A.) So. What's a woman to do? 

Well. Learn to sew. Of course. (And I promise I will entwine both of these narratives. Eventually. Really.) We all know, dear readers, that I have had commitment issues with adding sewing to my skill set. I have. But. I am nearly finished with my Asian skirt. Nearly. I have only to hem it and to put a fastener at the waist. I am so close. So very. And so, much-appreciated readers, this is where you come in. I pledge to finish this skirt by week's end. I do. Hold me to it.

So. Back to my other train of thought. You knew I'd get back on that train, didn't you? You did. And see? I reward your patience. What would I sew to wear to Costco? Something comfortable. Something attractive. Something that did not involve capris or a knit top. So. What? My choice: Simplicity 3846, copyright 1952. It's cool. Pretty. Yet it would not draw stares and whispered behind-the-hand comments from other Costco shoppers.

And, natch, this lovely number is available at The Blue Gardenia. You'll need it this summer for lunches with girlfriends. For casual suppers with that ever-so-special someone. For the supermarket!

Oh, and do check Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing. She has a feature on yours truly. Read it here. And if you're not already a fan, you'll become one. She's a must-read if you sew. Or want to.

Shameless plug: Are you a Joan Harris or a Mildred Pierce?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is that time again. That time that you have been waiting for with bated breath. We've added so many patterns. And, of course, they are fabulous. You knew that already, didn't you? Because The Blue Gardenia aims to please. We do.

In the 1920s and earlier category, you'll find this outstanding jacket. Pictorial Review 7432 has so many unusual details: the convertible collar, the turned back cuffs, the buttons! I love this one! I see it in linen for summer. Perhaps wool crepe for fall. Bound buttonholes, of course. You must have those. Bust 40, in case you care. And you do. Don't you?

And if you simply cannot bear to think of a jacket, then may I recommend Simplicity 1936? Sassy shorts. Sleek skirt.  Blouse   with pleated sleeves. So 1930s. So very. Just the ensemble for a week in the country. You can play tennis. Laze in a chaise on the porch. Wave at passersby. Swat at mosquitoes. Drink fresh strawberry lemonade. Nibble tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches. Summer just doesn't get any better. Does it? Mmmmmm . . . I think not. (Although the mosquitoes could vacation elsewhere. Perhaps a swamp? Definitely.)

And for those days in the city, you cannot go wrong with Butterick 3571. It's casual. It's easy. It's concisely nipped in at the waist. It's becoming. Butterick says so. They do. And they would not lie. Would they? Of course they wouldn't. This two-piece dress from the 1940s can go to a budget meeting. A boardroom. A tea room. A nightclub. You can't go wrong with this choice. You can't. But I said that already. I did.

Ceil Chapman is at her very best with American Designer 1251. This dress is one visual magnet. It's got it all going on. And some. The sexy drape at the bosom. The arresting bustle at the rear. The artful folds on the sleeves. So haute couture. So. There are those who say that Ms. Chapman was Marilyn Monroe's favorite designer. I say it's no wonder. She's most certainly one of this pattern diva's dearly beloved.

And for those moments when you feel like a 1940s film noir movie star, when you absolutely must wave your hair, when the only lipstick to define your mood is red, is there anything to wear except this negligee? Absolutely not. Butterick 3708 channels Gene Tierney. Joan Crawford. Rita Hayworth. It's strong. It's seductive. It does not need the bow. The bow is excessive. The bow is frippery. It softens the glamour quotient. Can it. I insist. Of course, if you buy it, it's your choice. To bow or not to bow?

Are you a Mad Man fan? Yes. I know. Who isn't? How did we live without Don Draper? How did we? His sultry voice. His chiseled jaw. His . . . Oh, enough about Don. Enough. Really. I must think about patterns. I must think about Vogue Special Design 4108. It is the Joan dress. The body-loving black one with the fetching red flowers. The one she wore when she threw the dinner party for that repulsive, reptilian man of hers in Season 3. The one she wore when she entranced the guests with her accordian. Totally irresistible. Totally. (To see the dress of which I speak, check the Mad Men Fashion File.)

So, pour yourself a cup of joe. Saunter over to The Blue Gardenia. Enjoy the fashion show. Whip out your wallet. Shop. You'll find something you like. I'm sure of it. And now for those pesky details, new additions always go at the beginning of each category. And we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you.