project planning: gonna-get-it-done bruyere

I have this horrible tendency to be over ambitious when I make plans and personal goals.

I had a not-so-happy last few months, and my first response is to try to overhaul. Join a yoga class! Join the church choir! Make friends! Rework the entire classroom from top to bottom! Jump feet first into five or six projects at once! Write a pile of short stories! Go big or go home, right? I realize that all this does is leave me wiped out with some halfhearted attempts at different goals and a shaken, discouraged feeling in the pit of my stomach. Instead, I'm trying to shift to small, manageable goals. One craft. One new activity. One change in the classroom. Plenty of room for error and for getting tired and falling short. I've found that giving myself that leeway room is how I actually succeed. 

Small, manageable changes. Illustrated with only the worst and most blurred out of pictures, but you can see that beautiful fabric.

To start with, I'm only committing to making one thing. I bought Deer and Doe's Bruyère pattern as a treat way back during Black Friday. My goal is to make my pretty blue Bruyère by Easter. I've bought this beautiful fabric from Fabricworm, I've massacred a tired, worn out blouse for buttons, and I've decided to be lazy and use the white thread I already have. I even got fancy pattern tracing paper, to save my beautiful paper copy of the expensive, expensive but already beloved indie pattern. It made cutting out the fabric a dream.

Goal set. Let's see how this works out. 

me-made-monday: making it work skirt

I look surprisingly angry in this picture. Don't really know why. 

Once upon a time, I thought a fun thing to do would be to post an outfit with at least one me-made item every week. What with the busiest semester of my life, it hasn't worked yet, but no time like the present to start! I'm hoping to get a bit better and a bit braver about taking pictures of myself. 
At the beginning of the semester, my roommate was going through a closet purge, much to my benefit. Shirts, a skirt, an absolutely gorgeous red silk dress--her castoffs got me through student teaching. This skirt started as a lovely, but not quite me dress. I wasn't a big fan of the coral under the lace or the slightly too big fit, but I loved the pockets. So I took it apart and gathered up the skirt into a nice wide piece of black elastic--perfect teacher wear!

I wore this exact same outfit on a typical boring school day and also to parent-teacher conferences. I felt so professional and chic and teacher-y that it deserved a repeat!

finished: fourth of july shorts

I didn't actually wear these on the Fourth of July. I did, however, cut them out that day. Also, high waisted shorts instantly feel vintage and a little forties-style patriotic to me--I decided on the styling for these photos while cutting out the fabric!

I may have then suddenly realized that the forties/vintage/patriotic poses that worked so well in my mind didn't really feel like they worked in photos. At least, not this time, with my camera self-timer ticking precariously away atop a kitchen chair.

The deets
Pattern: Simplicity 5499, copyright 1982
Fabric: 7/8 yd denim, maybe 1/2 yd of random lining fabric my little sister let me use
Size: 12 (26-1/2" waist, which explains a lot about that waist)
New techniques: "round derrière" alteration, waist alteration, fly zipper, making trousers in general?

Inspiration {sources: 1 (the pattern), 2 (Nina Leen), 3}

I found these beautiful shorts on Modcloth towards the end of the semester, and fell in love--the sweet, subtly vintage styling possibilities were just too much. Unfortunately, I'm a broke student, and I don't have $40 plus shipping to spend on one pair of shorts, especially because I can't wear them this fall for student teaching--broke chispitas gotta prioritize. Obvious answer? Make them for less--yes, sewing can still save you money! But I'd never made trousers before, and I'd never really tried to do serious alterations. And with a round, full bum and a distinct pear shape, alterations are not an option for me when it comes to trousers. Here, I did a "round derrière" alteration (maybe a little too much of one) and took in the waist (not enough--I probably really need to do a sway back adjustment).

The guts--also look at the Fourth of July pockets!

The pattern itself was great just because it walked me through every possible trouser alteration. I totally could have looked up trouser alterations in one of the multitude of sewing books somewhere around the house, but I really appreciated having the alterations right there in the pattern, specially tailored towards pants with a back yoke, like jeans, as opposed to darts. While I still ran into some problems (probably stemming from lack of belief that I would need to take that much out), the instructions themselves were excellent. (Fun fact: My mom made these pants waaaay back in the day, when the pattern was much, much newer. She even had the little card she made of her measurements and planned alterations inside the pattern envelope. It was so much fun to see! And also made me understand where my pear shape comes from.)

Do these fit perfectly? No. You can see the little roll of fabric above that is either too much of a FRA (Full Rear Adjustment--I'm not saying round derrière again) or proof of my sway back. Next time-- and there will be a next time--I'm going to do a sway back alteration and make that waist fit tighter. But with a belt, they fit pretty well, especially around my bum. And my mom told me that they were really slimming and flattering on me (take that, all you advice for pear shapes that say I should never wear high-waisted trousers!).

I love these shorts so much, even with the little extra fabric round my waist. I feel so unobtrusively vintage-y in the best possible way. And for the first time since maybe sixth or seventh grade, I feel good about how I look in a pair of trouser-y shorts, particularly from the rear. While doing the FRA, I kept thinking about how sad wearing pants has made me feel, ever since I started developing hips and a round bum. The spandex-y jeans just make me feel like I'm too big, too curvy to really wear jeans. But these make me feel okay about myself. They make me feel like I can be beautiful in a pair of shorts, instead of feeling like I should go back to hiding.

Classic Lisa blog photo--had to have one!

In other news, if all goes as planned, I'm teaching a math lesson for observation (eek!) as this post goes up. Student teaching has so far been an amazing process, and I can't wait to keep learning so much from my cooperating teacher and students. Happy Wednesday!

building a wardrobe

all from my pinboard here

This fall, I start student teaching, which is beyond-possible-words exciting. Except I need to be able to look like an adult five days a week. And for the past three years, I have grown to rely on the fact that A. people who see me on Tuesday don't see me on Friday (repeat outfits), B. I'm an adult and can keep myself fairly clean (unlike children who can and will spill who knows what on everything), and C. leggings with a long sweatshirt can form acceptable attire. Essentially, I can wear whatever I want, within reason of course. But in the classroom, I have to look like a professional teacher while wearing machine washable clothes, because I'm working with first graders. On top of that, most of my store-bought clothes are cheap/secondhand finds from before my freshman year of college, and they're falling apart at the seams.

My goal is to plan and make a wardrobe that is comfortable and clean and cleanable and professional. I looked at it from the perspective of trying to make capsule wardrobes: one for warm months, one for cold. 20 items each for some variety. Then I somewhat randomly assigned quotas for tops, bottoms, and dresses (which I love and will just pair with shorts to make them appropriate for the classroom). And then I realized just how big the holes are in my wardrobe. Example: I do not have a lightweight cardigan. I just don't. Which is frankly ridiculous, considering how much I love cardigans.

In true Internet fashion, I've started a pinboard to collect all my inspiration and ideas. More importantly, I've started a couple of projects this summer--including one that's already to show off to the internet!--but my main goal right now is still to nail down exactly what I'm looking for, style-wise and to fill the holes. Right now, I think I'm going to try some of the exercises in Colette's Wardrobe Architect to kinda solidify what I figured out from my first capsule wardrobe drafts. I want to be extremely intentional about how things work together, so that I have a wardrobe, not a closet full of individual pieces. I'm really excited about this challenge (and let's be honest--about the opportunity to make a lot of stuff)! I'm hoping to really get a lot out of looking at my closet and trying to figure out how to make it work better for me.

finished: basic-but-not-boring tee

Confession: I really like hand-sewing. I love it, in fact. This doesn't really ever seem to help my mending pile, unfortunately, but sometimes it leads to me making clothes or storage to hold all my medicine.

I finally finished my Plantain recently, despite the fact that it's not winter. Spring is here, and I'm yearning for short-sleeves and bare legs and running around in the sunshine like a tiny little toddler. Yet here I am, willingly wearing a long-sleeved, winter colored shirt. Then again, I don't really wear spring pastels. So there's that.

Pattern: Deer and Doe's Plantain
Fabric: mystery Amazon jersey, used earlier in my magic switch-y dress
Size: 36 (no alterations)

The pattern itself was a bit of a challenge. Not because the actual construction was difficult--I didn't even need the instruction. But wow, PDF patterns can be tricky. The taping together, the trying to match sides up correctly, it made the cutting-out-part of the pattern much tougher. Add to that a slippery jersey that folded and scrunched and stretched under the paper and my carpet floor turned into a cutting surface, that was very much not my favorite part of the pattern.

But the pattern is also beautifully designed. The scoop neck is graceful, the sizing is accurate, and the A-line, hip-skimming cut is really elegant. I even liked the fabric, which for a dirt-cheap Amazon buy holds up pretty well and is super soft. Sure, it's probably 130% polyester, but it's still cozy and comfy, while still looking pretty nice. The look in general suffers a bit on close inspection from the typical pulling I always find with my hand stretch stitching, but I think that's because my stitches are a little too big still.

I did piece the neckband, because I didn't have enough fabric in the right direction to cut it in one long piece. But I don't think it's too noticeable. And the biggest secret of all the secrets: despite taking the time to hand-finish every single inside seam, I have not hemmed it. Sleeves or the bottom.

All in all, I know the product is an extremely wearable tee (proof: these pictures were taken on three days when I actually, in fact, did wear it). Also, several of these pictures are super out of focus, but three. times. taking. pictures. I got bored of putting on a shirt that was too warm for the day just to take pictures.

fo: bucket-y bucketness

Forgive me for that title. I'm in the midst of midterm projects, actual midterms, sleep deprivation, and what looks like the slight beginnings of a cold. But I'm observing pre-K students who are basically little germ factories, so sick happens.

When you move into an apartment for the first time, it's this giant empty slate. Maybe you have some furniture that you acquired from the previous tenants. You have a couple of tchotchkes or knick-knacks (by the way, I love the word tchotchke and I wish we used it more often), but mostly, you have an empty room.

I wanted a little more storage, so I decided to make a bucket bag based on this tutorial from Victory Patterns. It took me three times longer than it normally would, because I had to hand sew the whole thing, but the result is that I finally have somewhere to stick my bobby pins, headbands, and hair ties. They used to be sprinkled liberally around the room. Not cool.

I used some mystery fabric I got from a friend for free and some leftover heavy interfacing instead of buckram, because I already had the interfacing and I figure they serve essentially the same purpose: make something not stiff act stiffer. The tutorial itself had clear enough instructions, for the most part. I didn't have to look anything up, and the techniques were basic enough, especially when you're making the whole thing using hand stitches you learned when you were five (whipstitch and running stitch for the win). Really, there's not much to say about it, except that it very perfectly fits its niche.

sewing fo: not-a-gum-drop skirt

Because this summer is a dreadfully slow making summer, I waited til my last few weeks at home to finish a skirt. Even though I've had the fabric since December. Even though it's basically the most beginner of beginner skirts. It's like page one of the how to sew clothes book. Makes me a little ashamed of myself because I've been sewing for years. I want to be making fantastic wonderful creations, but that's not really what I'm making, apparently.

All this simplicity really does let that gorgeous fabric shine. After all, it's the star here!. It was a Christmas gift from a very good friend, and it's some of the most beautiful fabric I've ever laid my hands on. It's beautifully soft and fluid with this deep, rich color and that border! So elegant. And it is that beautiful, not-to-be-harmed border that led to the gathered skirt. That and a lot of Call the Midwife making me desperate for a longer, very full skirt. Almost a dirndl skirt, right?

I wanted it very full, so I gathered this enormous swath of fabric into the waistband, which is the only advanced part of the skirt. I made what is, according to my mom's sewing book, a couture waistband, with three layers: the actual fabric with interfacing, the lining with interfacing, and then the lining by itself to cover up this whole mess. That soft, drapey main fabric would have led to a very rolly waistband without some major stabilizing and all the interfacing and layering that the couture waistband required really gave the support it needed.

Actually, I've been terrified of gathered skirts for years, which really is stupid. It's not really a fear of gathering or something; I'm just worried about them looking funny on me, either like My First Skirt! or as if my lower body from the waist down was shaped like a gum drop. Looking at the pictures now and having worn it a few times, I know how not gum drop-y this skirt is, but while making it I kept asking my mom and sisters what they thought about it.

Honestly the only time it looks gum drop-like is when twirling. But how many times do I do that on a daily basis? (Answer: regularly. But I'll just deal.) On the whole, it's a really lovely skirt, though one trip through the wash, and it's starting to pill a little, so I'll have to be super careful to avoid another episode of ruin-the-thing-I-just-made.

Anyway, off to get ready for the first day of school tomorrow!

sewing fo: a (kind of) practical bag

Oh, what a gloriously unproductive summer. To think, at this time last year, I had a couple of projects in the air. This year, I've barely finished a make-up bag thus far. To be fair, I do have a part-time job working with kids. High energy, never-not-moving, 3-12 years old kids.

I've been wanting to make a make-up bag, 'cos until now my make-up has resided in a quart-size plastic bag. Super convenient for TSA, except for the fact that it's ugly and falling apart. I made this with some inspiration from The Dancer's Book of Ballet Crafts, but I drafted the pattern myself, if you can call 6 rectangles of differing size a pattern.

The outer fabric is left over swiss dot cotton print from this dress-ish tunic thing. I had to piece a lot because I didn't have very much left over, but I'm telling myself that the extra seams add structure and shape to a fairly simple pile of rectangles. The lining is that pretty cobalt blue poly-satin leftover most recently from this unnecessary semi-formal, that was fashioned from leftovers from my senior prom dress. The fabric that won't just disappear. Do you have one of those in your stash?

The inside corners are a little funky and the lining turned out bigger than the exterior, but some odd little pleats later and you can't really tell. It's just our little secret.

It's pretty small, but I don't have a lot of makeup (most of my makeup was acquired for the stage and therefore never gets worn except for performances), so it's perfect for me. And even something small and creative counts as being creative!

fo: magic switch-y dance-y dress

forgive me for the messy room

As a sidenote: do you ever see that girl in the cafe or the library who's got headphones in and a serious shoulder dance going as she mouths the lyrics to some song? Yeah, that would be me. The music in question might be show tunes or Shakira or indie stuff (often the show tunes--oh, to be on Broadway! All the world's a stage though, right, so it's totally fine, right?). But keeping it to the shoulder wiggle and the silent singing at least keeps it from full-out taking over the whole place and belting. Which is a good thing, right?

Anyways...the dress. which you might actually care about, as opposed to my true confessions about singing in public. I used these two tutorials by Sew Like My Mom to make this dress during Thanksgiving break as a dance costume for a couple of shows. It's a great basic dance costume because A. you can change it every show if you want to be indecisive (I sure as heck did) and B. it's so easy to move in! I loved my costume. Bonus points for following what a professor told me about good dance costumes for a piece: it looks expensive.

apparently my new game is don't look at the camera

I stayed at school over break and therefore was still over a 1000 miles away from my sewing machine. So this entire dress was hand-sewn. I searched a little bit for instructions for how to do a stretch stitch by hand. A couple (more like half a season) of Breaking Pointe later, I had a dress. It's only three seams (the way I did it at least), so it didn't feel like that much work to hand sew it. Actually, it was a lot of fun! I really like handsewing. It's relaxing.

I basically took pictures of all the ways I know how to tie it. I'm not super creative about it, especially because I have relatively high standards for modesty when it comes to how I dress.

wait! I do know where the camera is!

Yep, we've come to the end of my four different stylings. I'm not very exciting. Do you have any suggestions for tying this thing in more creative ways that are still fairly covering? I'm too shy to do strapless, but I'm trying to experiment with how to look like a cool person in this.

top three tuesday

This is super late in the game, but I'm really only doing this because I want to have nothing to do with my French paper*.

...things I wish I could cook, but can't because of ingredients/appliances/supplies

coming from the time-wasting buzzfeed

all those pancakes (except for the red velvet because I'm allergic to red food dye).

buttermilk chocolate chip crumb cupcakes

cookie dough dip with garbanzo beans (darn you lack of food processor!)

It's kind of just not fair that I don't have access to all these ingredients and a gourmet kitchen in my building. I mean, I have a whole pinboard of things I want to make. :(

...things that are sew inspiring (aren't I clever, using the oldest sewing pun ever) in blogland

this pattern book from 1940 posted by Lucky Lucille--it's absolutely beautiful.

Anna's entire blog--I've been procrastinating on my homework taking long well-earned breaks reading it, working my way back to the beginning. I kinda want to be her best friend. In a normal, well-adjusted kind of way.

this gorgeous magazine page about appropriate dance clothes by none other than the lovely Irene Castle (dance nerd smile)

...favorite ravelry finds

Susie Roger's Reading Mitts--I actually have these just barely started because I have extra yarn from my sad, shrunken sweater. 

Aidez--my mommy wants a cabled sweater and this just looks like it might be it. 

Faerie Wings--why don't I have a pattern for knitting fairy wings?

...goings on in chispita world

getting a cold and then not sleeping which really does wonders for the cold

silly, silly French papers

The Mark of Athena, by Rick Riordan--from my recent fantasy-literature-for-kids presentation, I know this book is roughly a fifth to sixth grade reading level; my eleven-year-old sister reads them. But. That didn't stop my college kid self from reading it in 12 hours over the weekend, completely enthralled. I have super mature tastes in books. 

*I actually like the book this time, and I usually like French. Honest. I'm just struggling a little bit this semester. 

sewing fo: back in black skirt

I'm not normally some kind of crazy AC/DC fan. But that is exactly what happened here. I am, in fact, back in the world of black and not blue. Phew. Bet everybody was a wee bit bored of the perfect azure-ness.

Pattern: a vintage 1970s Simplicity pattern (I forgot the number...bad chispita)

Fabric: 1-3/4 yds of black cotton (100% for the first time!)

This was my end of summer project. The basic black fabric has an interesting (in my mind) back story. Originally, I thought I'd glimpsed out of the corner of my eye the most perfect white-on-black butterfly fabric at Hobby Lobby. I got ridiculously excited in a five-year-old kind of way. When I went back to buy my dream butterfly fabric, I found out it was just that: a dream. The actual fabric with its dramatic white flower outlines over grey leaves on the black background was pretty, but not butterflies. I pouted for maybe an hour, walking around the fabric department trying to find something among all the quilting cottons that would be appropriate for a basic, a-line skirt for a dark-color-loving teenage girl (me). And then I settled for most basic, almost boring, black cotton in the corner. I was going to add some lines of bias tape to the bottom to shnazzy it up, but I decided versatility was more important than color.

Anyway. The actual skirt.

weird headless picture...oo...

It's very simple, just a four-gore A-line skirt. It's so simple that I actually made the entire thing without the instructions, on account of the fact that the instruction sheet took a walk around the house. The only thing is that I messed up somehow and the skirt part wound up larger than the waistband so there's two little pleats at the top that are my I'm-fixing-my-oops issue. I got rid of the patch pockets of the original skirt pattern and then considered adding in-seam pockets. I decided against because I was lazy and didn't want to go through the trouble of trying to figure them out. 

I also put the waistband overlap on the opposite side as compared to the lapped zip (which, I have to say, is one of my best lapped zips ever--I'm so proud). Well. Oops. 

here you can see the little lumpiness caused by my oops

and the mismatched overlaps for a lapped zipper and lapped waistband

I finished most of the skirt on the inside with french seams, but because I had a lapped zipper in the center back, I decided to fold my seam allowances under and just stitch the edges. Because I was running out of black I decided to use some navy blue thread. It stands out really well, and I like having the (very) little tiny secret of having that inside splash of color. So, I guess the blue did sneak in. 

Overall, it's a great skirt. The oopses don't really bother me, as they're not really evident unless you're staring really closely. I love that it's actual, real cotton. It holds folds really well (almost too well), but that made for a pretty darn nice hem (in my humble opinion, at least). Even in the very small space of two weeks of class, I've been reaching for this skirt often. It's just such a good basic! Now I just need to make more shirts that would really show off its...basicness. :)

this skirt makes me feel all student-y. :)

sewing fo: why don't we just (sew a) dance dress

There is nothing quite like looking at your completely boring social calendar (hmmm...let's see, Thursday night: dance; Friday night: dance; Saturday: dance; yeah, I have no life) and then sewing a formal. A shiny, satin party dress that forces you to look for an occasion to wear it.

Pattern: Simplicity 2252

Fabric: leftover cobalt blue poly-satin, I'm going to guess about 1-1/2 yds

This was the last of the blue projects of this summer and my first major stash-busting sewing project ever. See, I don't actually have a stash, except for odds and ends left over from projects. Normally, I take the pattern envelope to Hobby Lobby and buy the exact amount of fabric required for the project and then I finish the project before starting a new one. But when I bought the yards and yards of blue poly-satin for the long version of Simplicity 2252 for my senior prom dress, I didn't know that halfway through the year I was going to change my mind and make a Downton Abbey inspired dress that took half the yardage. Then this summer I decided to make up the short version of the pattern. Just 'cos.

side angle

I struggled a little with this pattern. The simplest change I made was binding the bottom edge of the bodice lining in bias tape instead of hemming it. It's tight enough that the hemmed edge stood out ridiculously on the skirt. So I tried the bias tape, which worked better, but is still visible. Darn.

But when it came to the actual fitting...I started out by making a size designed for someone slightly smaller than me. And then I took five inches out of the bodice. A whole five inches. I have no idea why there was so much ease designed into it, because that's just darned crazy. I graded it down to about four inches at my waist and then to the proper seam placement at my hips, because I'm very much a pear shape. But still. That's a heck of a lot of ease. The side seams didn't match up too well either. I wound up taking a tiny little pleat in the side along where all the pattern pleating already was.

And then the back. Oh the back.

It's an awful wrinkly mess. We're not sure why ("we" being my mother, my sister, and me). It might be because my waist is a tad bit higher than the pattern model. It might be because I'm bigger up top than the pattern model was, but I have a fairly small waist and a fairly sway back, so the pattern's distorted on me. It might be operator error because I'm very, very far from being a perfect seamstress. I don't know. If anyone knows why, feel free to tell me what I did wrong! In fact, pleeease tell me!

I'm super proud of the edge of that lining because of my little hand stitches. I love hand sewing parts of my dresses, because it makes me feel extra accomplished when I make them as invisibly as possible. I always do hems and darts by hand, but this time I did the edges of my linings too. And on that bias tape edging, I got little running stitches. I think I may have even gotten them down to 10 per inch. :D

with my finger for comparison

All in all, I'm pretty happy with the dress, except for the back, which I can't see when I wear it but still frustrates the dickens out of me. During move-in day at school, my roommates, suitemates, and friends all oohed and aahed over it, so I guess I did an acceptable job in the world of less-than-perfection normal person standards.

this is swineflu. he's the closest thing I have right now to a prom date

top 3...

indie patterns I wish I could sew:

picture originally belongs here

the Cascade skirt by Megan Nielsen

the Bombshell Swimsuit by Closet Case Files

the Cambie dress by Sewaholic

(but also the Sureau dress by Deer and Doe--can I make this a top four? or maybe five?)

things I wish were on my needles right now:

shamelessly fliched from here

Velvet Night by Julie Crawford

Stockhom Scarf, also by Julie Crawford

I Heart Cardigans by Tanis Lavallee

(I might be a bit excited for fall and snuggly wool cardigans and scarves and leaves changing and cooler temperatures and...I'm going to stop there before I turn this into why-I-love-fall)

recipes I want to try:

Chocolate Covered Katie's version of the one minute chocolate cake

chocolate peanut butter microwave oatmeal

dorm room enchiladas (my mommy's/abuelita's recipe combined with college student ingenuity!)

things that are confusing me:

comes from here through the glorious google images :)

Yvain ou le chevalier au lion (it's a book we're reading for my French class and I'm totally lost in a mess of "il vint". Passé simple what?)

cronuts (nuff said)

the pricing of Victoria's Secret sweaters (come on, folks, your likely sweatshop-made sweater is not worth $70)

things I want to do today:

sewing

knitting

dancing

Sorry, Yvain, you just didn't make the cut. ;)

all the pretty ladies: a 1900 silhouette

Hey Internet world! Unfortunately, the end of school meant the end of stable Internet for me (I don't have a connection at home), but fortunately, as long as I'm at the local community college, I have access again. Still, my already spotty presence is just going to get spottier. :/

My senior year of high school I took some really fantastic pointless classes: Theatre and Desktop Publishing, even though I'm not really an actress and I'm not going to be a graphic designer. But the first taught me to use croquis* to design costumes and the second taught me how to make silhouettes and outlines of figures. Useful skills for a sewist/designer, I thought to myself.

Then I started looking for a croquis for other decades. The 1900s, for instance. I like designing vintage/historical clothes, and in order to properly do that, you need a croquis with the proper foundation garments. After all, one can imagine that a modern croquis is wearing a nice bra and some cute undies. It gives the proper silhouette. And yet...these seemingly don't exist. So I used my senior year random classes and my Adobe CS2 (that I got for free), and came up with this:

For the sake of other would-be designers who are lazy and don't like drawing silhouettes and constantly getting them wrong (or want to make a 1900 Cinderella dress like me!), I'm going to share this. 

Get your own 1900 silhouette!

I really enjoyed making this silhouette, and I'm going to make more for other time periods (probably the Natural Form bustle period next) because I love drawing old clothes. If you guys would like to share in the fun, let me know in the comments and we can all have pretty little historical ladies! 

*I hate the word croquis. It makes me think of how when people die you say they croaked. I will say silhouette forever rather than say croquis, no matter how much more specific it is. Same with trolling and derp. I hate those words with a passion. 

princess for a day: cinderella

Back in October, I looked at Belle's costume and how you could make a not-80's inspired Belle dress. Basically, it was I-wish-I-had-a-sewing-machine-and-money daydream about pretty dresses around midterms. Now that I'm getting into spring finals, the same thing is hitting me. This time though, I picked Cinderella--and I want to do a little better at putting this together now!

This is the Cinderella I'm used to (and that I think most people are used to). Cinderella came out in 1950, so her look was very Dior New Look inspired, with the holdovers from the '40s. Her dress has a series of box pleats going down the center of her skirt, an overskirt/bustle/pannier thing going on, a tight, center-seam bodice, and cute little puffed sleeves. For the most part, though, to be identifiably Cinderella, you just need a pale blue dress with sleeves (preferably puffed!) and a natural waistline. But mainly the color. 

This is a 1943 pattern that looks a lot like Cinderella's! You can see the inspiration from things like this in her gown.

source

This might be colored Belle, but that full fifties skirt and the little sleeves are definitely also Cinderella reminiscent. And if it were blue, this would look pretty Cinderella-ish. 

source

Here's a mid-1880s bustle gown with an overskirt, vaguely reminiscent of Cinderella's. It has the same tight-fitting bodice with a very different skirt silhouette, which plays up the historical changes. It wouldn't be too hard to add in some puffed sleeves, with a little bit of sewing experience.

source

Not at all the right color, but the 1890s were all about puffed sleeves, tight bodices, and full skirts. Many evening gowns had tiny little puffed sleeves much like Cinderella's. Done right, something like this could be very princess-y!

source

Now, we don't do the big floofy skirts of sixty years ago. But I'd love to see someone take a simple pattern like this A-line skirt one and make it a fantastic formal for Cinderella--especially with the cut-out back!

source

Of course, most of these are so costume-y/formal, I'd never sew them for their impracticality. So I also love the idea of an everyday princess dress, for all those days when your social calendar is perverse and simply won't give you a ball to attend. This has such cute, mid-century princess-esque details, like the puffed sleeves and ruffles. 

Where do you find inspiration for a princess dress?