A few years ago, I had a dress. It was exceptional. My mom and I had spent the day shopping together, and we capped it all off with a stop at our favorite store, Dillard’s. This is where we found The Dress. It was straight out of the 1950s: it was fitted in the bodice with an enormous, tea length full skirt and side seam pockets and a belt. It came in pink and blue; I bought blue and my mom bought pink. We were so delighted with ourselves trying it on and twirling around in the fitting room, talking about how quickly we could come up with an excuse to wear it. (Pretty sure that’s when I started saying “I don’t care! I’ll wear it to the grocery store it’s so good!”) This was circa 2004, before camera phones and social media, so I regrettably never got a picture of this dress. I wasn’t a big picture taker back then to begin with. Anyway, somewhere along the way I lost that dress. At some point I probably thought it was too mature for me, or maybe it just got lost during one of the dozen or more times I moved in my 20s. Either way, I sure wish I still had it.
I took an international politics class in college, and a requirement of the course was participation in a mock UN meeting. I chose to represent Monaco, and I thought my new blue shirtdress was the perfect thing to wear. I will never forget the feeling of wearing that dress. It was like I was floating. I remember sitting at my table listening to the international relations majors engage in mock debates, and all I could do was daydream about my dress and getting back to tailoring class to finish the blazer I was working on. My thoughts were soon interrupted when I got a note from Spain, sitting at the table behind me. This too, I wish I still had, because it one of those things that has stuck with me. It read, “Hey, Monaco, I love your dress.” There may have also been a smiley face doodle, I can’t remember. Spain was represented by a male classmate of mine, and that whole exchange stands out in my mind all these years later. The power of clothing and style and your confidence in clothes is real and cannot be overstated. Was he flirting? Did he just really like the dress? Did I look better in it because I felt so good in it? Maybe a little of all of it.
Here’s what I know: a shirtdress is classic, and it looks good on everyone. A few months before I closed my business I started thinking about shirtdresses again. So once I was free and clear to start sewing just for myself again, I was on a mission to make a few. At first, I had trouble finding the right pattern, but eventually I discovered Vogue 9077. It’s not the truly full skirt I’m ultimately after, but the details were too good to pass up. I love the front bands and the gored skirt. The first time I made it was last spring, and I used an eggshell linen/rayon blend. The skirt swishes and sways like you would not believe.
The second time I made it I used a pink linen/cotton blend, and it’s nothing short of lovely. The third and most recent time I made it was in olive sateen, and I love it. The swish factor isn’t there as much as it is with the others, but you lose some of that movement with sateen–and I’m okay with that. I went with long sleeves, and I adjusted the button placket so that I could sew a facing. Just to change things up a bit.
In addition to drafting a front facing, I also drafted a back yoke and combined the collar pieces into one. I sewed the darts to the inside, only because doing it the way it was designed looks like a mistake to me. (I might even twitch a little at the thought of sewing darts wrong side out. Ha!) No fit adjustments were necessary. I can hardly believe this, but these are the first long sleeves with a button cuff I’ve ever sewn. How crazy is that?!
All three together.
Things to know about this pattern:
#1. It is gorgeous, easy to sew, and unique.
#2. I would make it again in a heartbeat, but after three dresses, I’m forcing myself to move on to a new challenge!
I got the olive sateen from Fashion Fabrics Club, for about $5/yards and I got four yards. Two spools of thread for $6, and about $6 on buttons, kept cost of materials under $40. Every time I sew a shirtdress I’m reminded of how refreshing it is to sew something without a lining and zipper!
I have a number of vintage patterns which I’ll look into for the next shirtdress project, which will be in navy. The ultimate color for me, of course.
Until next time!
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