Every year, about this time, I think "I should put aside these frivolous cotton print dresses of summer, and make an entire wardrobe of sophisticated, narrow dresses in deep, solid colors." And I drag out this pattern again, and stare at it for a while. I'm fond of the cut of the red version. (The neck thing is a purchased scarf, not a sewn-in collar.) Doesn't that look like something Faye Dunaway would wear, in her role as an expert in international arms-treaty law? Or as the head of a multinational financial-services conglomerate?
I've never made this one. I buy (expensive) fabric to make it. I put it in the pile marked "Make Next." I have, on one or two occasions, dragged all the pieces out and pressed them, but I just can't bring myself to cut this sucker out. I delay and drag and then end up shoving them back in the pattern envelope. And then February rolls around and all I can think of making again is frivolous cotton print dresses.
It's a lovely pattern. Look at the seaming, the bell skirt, the POCKETS. (Click on the image to see all five views, including the marabou-trimmed evening version.) It's elegant, it's understated, in gray wool flannel and a black leather belt it would be irresistible. (In black leather with a gray flannel belt it would be really, really strange in a kind of Helmut Lang way.) And somehow I can't make it! I guess I'm just not the multinational financial-services conglomerate type.