On this day, the 25th of November, I’m slowly turning into a plague rat, cuddled up in my bed sneezing and generally feeling very sorry for myself. But yesterday, I was out and about, enjoying my lazy Sunday.
This white dress easily gets the most wear out of anything I’ve made myself. The pattern is Simplicity 4105 and dates from 1952. I’ve worn it plain, I’ve worn it with turtlenecks underneath in the wintertime, and now I’ve discovered that one of my favorite ways to style it is with a 70’s wide-collar blouse underneath.
It seems like a weird fashion flex at first blush. The 50’s and the 70’s might have been 20 years apart, but they represent a lifetime of change in American society, and an equal lifetime of advancements in textiles and technology. But the wide statement collar was just as much a thing in the 50’s as it was in the 70’s, and this blouse happens to match my lovely Fluevog boots, which I don’t get to wear as often as I’d like.
Thinking back to when I made this dress, in a holiday-deadline-fueled mania on December 21st, I will point out to anyone who asks that I picked this entire dress specifically to match the buttons. That’s… not how I normally operate, for the record, but I had exactly 10 of those vintage black and white shank buttons (you can see them in my blog header), and didn’t want to have leftovers, so when I found this pattern, I decided they were a match. Everything else came from the textile outlet in Pilsen (the fabric’s a herringbone…probably polyester blend. I did a fiber test once for school, but I can’t really remember the total result)
Apropos of nothing, I found this Lana Lobell ad on Pinterest at some point and immediately went “IT’S MY DRESS.” It’s… it’s not my dress, but you can see why I would draw similarities. At some point in the future, I may be tempted to use good old Simplicity 4105 as a starting point to replicate the dress on the left too.
($5.95, what a steal! JK, that converts to $57.60 in today’s dollars.)
These photos, like most of the ones I shoot myself, are taken in Ravenswood, just outside of Beans & Bagels. People kept walking by, on their way to the yoga studio across the street, looking at me like I was a crazy person. Whether that was because I was taking a bunch of selfies or because I wasn’t wearing a coat, I’m not sure.