There's something just slightly wrong about this pattern, and I'm pretty sure it's the buttons.
The bodice, with the little mandarin collar and the fluttery short sleeves, is just great. The right-side pocket is nice, too. But then your eye hits those buttons, and it's all over.
It might just be me, though — I hate buttons on skirts. They always (at least on me) show strain, get weird wrinkles around them, and are uncomfortable to sit on. Not to mention drawing the eye down and away.
If you want this pattern (B30), click on the link, and be prepared to wait for it to be shipped from Australia …
By my reckoning, there are 36 days of summer left. This eBay auction ends five days from now; allowing another five-six days for shipping leaves you 25 days to wear this dress before packing it away for next year. (Your summer may vary if you live further south than I do. Australians may, of course, anticipate.) No one will mind if you wear this dress half-a-dozen times in those last 25 days–I would, if I could!
B36/W27; right now it's at $37.99 with no bids. Somebody go grab it, okay? The last days of summer are waiting.
I'm not sure why this dress is calling to me. I bought the pattern on a whim at an estate sale a few weeks ago, and it's been floating in the back of my head ever since. I'm not really a plunging-neckline kind of gal, and this skirt makes even these ectomorphic illustration women look like toilet-paper cozies, so I find its constant presence in my head disturbing and a bit irritating.
It might be time for a switch, though, and that would explain why this dress is pinging me. You know how you know, one day, just from something undefinable in the air, that summer is over? And how it's different every year, and not very closely tied to the calendar? That's how it is with styles, too. All of a sudden the very dress you loved, that you couldn't wear often enough, that was somehow the perfect shape and line — looks wrong. Its summer is over.
So. The short version, in gray challis with red banding. Or cream challis banded with chocolate brown. With the neckline, um, adjusted a bit upwards (to obviate the need for double-sided tape) and perhaps the skirt narrowed. Whaddaya think?
Also, Blogger tells me this is the 100th Dress a Day post! Thanks for reading!
I wanted to post a wedding dress today, but I just couldn't find one that sang to me. And then (since if you can't praise beauty you can always resort to mockery) I wanted to find one that was risible, but I couldn't find one that rose to the height of risibility that I was looking for. This is the problem with wedding dresses, in my opinion — they serve no purpose other than to make one person (POSSIBLY two, but usually just one) happy on one day, and for that reason they are not really subject to criticism in the same way as ordinary dresses are.
If wedding dresses are just, at their ideal, crystalline distillations of personality … I want to meet the woman who chooses this one. For some reason, even though this wouldn't be MY choice, I think I'd really like her.
Click on the image to go to the web page offering this dress. If you buy it, drop me an email! We'll have coffee.
Ignore the model's glassy stare and think for a minute what this dress would do for YOU. First of all, although I am a fan of the little black dress, this dress is not a LBD. It's a BBD, actually: dramatic, flattering, graceful. That neckline would, at the same time, make your neck look swanlike and feature your embonpoint charmingly. The embellished bodice is just understated enough to be tasteful, just sparkly enough to be festive. The Grecian twining at the waist will set that part of you off discreetly, and the soft flowing pleats of the skirt will flutter around you enticingly. This is the dress to wear when you want to look effortlessly elegant.
This dress is a siren's call to rival all siren's calls, but doesn't look like it. Gorgeous. From Narciso Rodriguez's Fall 2005 collection (by way of Serenada — who would look like a goddess herself in this gown! — thank you, Serenada!). Click on the image to visit the Style.com slideshow.
Yes, it's a flocked dress! There's not a lot of flocking on adult clothes lately — it seems only kids get the satisfaction of having raised fuzzy patterns on their clothing. But I'm all in favor of fuzzy party dresses — why NOT give people an excuse to touch you? (Okay, introverts, you can all say "eeeewwwww!" now, but I didn't mean it THAT way.) So, where were we? Yes. This dress — a tad expensive at $225, but in great condition, and it's not only flocked, it's flocked taffeta! — is just the perfect combo of color and pattern, and it's at The Cats Pajamas (I don't know where the apostrophe went either and without it I think that perhaps the pajamas are MADE of cats, and that is not a good mental image AT ALL) so click on the link if you must have it. B36/W28.
I may have to go troll Ebay for some flocked fabric now. Preferably a nice abstract like this one, and not flaming skulls or Hello Kitty, as much as I like both those motifs. Hmmm, flaming Hello Kitty skulls? Oh well.
I like this dress — it looks Modern without looking as if you were trying too hard to be modern. It's a nice shape, a nice length, and no matter how clever and manipulative your personal body-image demons are, they probably haven't gotten around to talking you into hating the very tips of your shoulders yet. So show 'em off! This dress also requires Important (or at least Very Dangly) Earrings, or perhaps even a Striking Cuff Bracelet, so keep that in mind. (Neither of which accoutrements could I wear for more then ten minutes before slipping them off to be lost forever in the bottom of my handbag, so I would be drastically underaccessorized in this dress.)
And by "try something new," I mean if you're a size 0/2 and have $119 to spare — this is on sale at Neiman's and 0/2 is the only size left. Ah, end-of-season sales, where the two ends of the bell curve make out like bandits, and the rest of us in the hump just LOOK.
This dress is NOT — and I can't stress how important this is — NOT made of that hideous stretch polyester that so many knit dresses are molded of these days. No, this one is very nice combed cotton.
Why the model was told to have no two planes of her body facing the same way, I have no idea. But she's doing a really good job of following instructions, isn't she?