DIY: A Mid Century Mod Dress

Do you find my creepy grin as disturbing as I do? I can't decide if it's the part where I'm trying to bare all my teeth or the dead look behind my eyes. I predict this is the same creepy grin I'll be baring upon the first day back to school. "Welcome back! I am soooo happy to see (uncomfortable swallow whilst maintaining creepo grin) yoooooou."

   Holy moly, I have so much to tell you I don't even know where to begin. Despite the title of this post, I definitely will not be chatting about this new dress right away. That was just a ploy to draw you in (because "DIY: Mid Century Mod Dress" is such a great hook, right?!). We have much more pressing matters to discuss. Like dangerous kitchen accidents with food processing blades where a tampon is applied to the wound to slow the flow. Yeah. See? I told you. LOTS to discuss.

   I don't know if you know this about me, but I have a fabric hoarding problem. No, really. I know, you're thinking, "Whatever, Stephens. Ralph Waldo Emerson said, 'Tis a rule of manners to avoid exaggeration.'" Wow. You're like so well read and stuff. But I'm not exaggerating! Upcoming post, I'll prove it to you. In the meantime, this here amazing mid-century mod fabric has been in my stash forever. Because I found it at the thrift store and there was no writing on the selvage edge, I dunno if it's actually vintage. Nonetheless, it spoke to me and said "Make me into a dress. After you make me a sandwich." Ermkay.

 Okay, so I know you're dying. Tampons?! Food processing accidents?! (Geesh, why wasn't that the title of this blog post? It woulda gone viral!) Well, just hold on. If Ima gonna tell this story right, I've gotta start at the beginning. And, like most beginnings not often shared on this here blog, mine begins with a DIY fail. Or four.

 Oh, look. My lovely deck. Funny story about my deck. Last summer I was put in charge of getting some quotes to have our deck painted. Which, as you can see, I never did follow through with. But whatever, that's not the point of this here story. One of the dudes who came out to quote us showed up in his adorable turquoise mini-cooper wearing skinny shorts and Beatles boots. In the summer. In Tennessee. Which means it's like 150 in the shade. But look at the way I dress, I'm not one to judge (haha, yes I am). Anyway, dude was a super nice guy from New Zealand. Are there any New Zealanders in the house? If so, I've gotta tell ya, ya'll need to learn the correct pronunciation of the word "deck". Because my deck quoting friend referred to it as our "dick." As in, "You're dick's in bad shape. I think if I stain your dick it will look so much better." Hubs and I could hardly keep a straight face. Because we're 12.

DIY fail item #1: My deck decorating. First of all, lemme just say, we have this nice big deck (heehee) and never use it. Because it's 150 degrees outside in the shade, remember? AND it has a hot tub. Which we've never ever used because it's not 1987 and my husband isn't Tom Seleck. I hate the unsightly thing so this summer I got the genius idea to "hide" it with plants. As you can see, it's working out great. As did hanging those planters on those diagonal boards. And, let's not forget the oil cloth pillows I attempted to sew. All of which frustrated me to the point that I just dropped my tools, snapped a photo and went inside to destroy another DIY dream:

These here Anthro-inspired chairs. Which I am determined to conquer. Although, as you can see, I currently stand defeated. Because after the 56th rouge staple flew out of the staple gun, I thought, "forget this noise, I don't wanna end up getting hurt" (little did I know blood shed would come later). And, just like the deck, I left the mess where it was and did what any normal person would do. I made a dress.

 Aw, don't act like you wouldn't have done the same thing. I've been toying with the idea of turning this fabric into a sort of early 1960's tiki dress for a while. And with my deck and living room covered in DIY disasterness, the only safe place seemed to be my sewing room. I used my two fave patterns, combining the pocketed and gathered skirt of the Project Runway pattern with the bodice of the vintage pattern.

 I am kinda in love with this bodice and the big band of fabric...as you may know. Because I've made this same bodice like 4000 times. Not only is it slimming but it's also a place to play with color and pattern. Which is why I've used it, oh, here, here, here, here and, um. Here.

 Now, being a pattern from the 1960's it has that close-to-the-neck fit. Which I don't totally love because it's not comfortable. And because of my gorilla neck. The other prob with this pattern is that once complete, there's this extra fabric at the at the neck. As you can see, along with my hairy gorilla neck, above.

 So, as usual, I went to get hub's opinion of the dress. And he was like, "What's with the gap in the back?" He's actually said that every time I've made this dress. And I'm always like, "oh, it's a design element" which is code for "I have no clue!" It was at the point in our convo for me to deliver my design element BS when hubs said, "wait a minute. I have an idea." Now, I have to tell you, my hubs is kinda this amazing idea man. My favorite case in point: the time he and his roommates who never ever cleaned the bathroom of their apartment were moving out of their soon-to-be-condemned place. But they were still expected to clean the joint to get a return on their deposit. Idea Man's suggestion? Buy three cans of white spray paint and paint that bathroom clean. Kid ya not. And it worked. So when he suggested I simply unzip the dress, create a v-neck line and stitch it in place, I thought, wow. This man is like a genius.

Which now brings me to the point in my post when I'm ready to share with you the Attack of the Food Processing Blade. Genius hubs was outta town and I decided to host a lil crafty get together. For which I got the grand idea to make hummus. Yeah. Even though you can buy it at the store for, oh, I dunno, 3 bucks? And I really got into it. I skinned a 30 ounce can of chick peas just for the occasion (yes, you read that correctly. It's actually kinda fun in a bubble-popping kind of way) threw 'em in the food processor with some lemon juice and tahini and, viola! Some seriously good hummus.

The day of the get together, I'm cleaning (which I only do when people are coming over...so it's like an all day event) and I drop that stupid food processing blade on my foot. It didn't even hurt and I didn't think much of it until I noticed my foot felt all warm and sticky. When I looked down, I almost fainted. There. Was. Blood. EVERYWHERE. It looked like an episode of Dexter. If Dexter was a complete idiot that dropped food processing blades on his feet. Now, I'm not a total dope, I did grab a cleanish towel, put my foot in the air and applied pressure. But it just wouldn't stop gushing blood. I convinced myself I was feeling faint decided to hobble all the way upstairs for a Band Aid. Because, in my deliriousness, I just knew that would fix it.

Oh look, an extra large photo of my veiny feet. Hawt.

In true Girl Scout Drop Out fashion, I couldn't find my first aid kit. Oh, who am I kidding, I don't even have a first aid kit. But I do have tampons. Which is what I applied to my foot before forcing my tampon'ed foot into a sock and shoe and zipping over to the walk in clinic. Thankfully, it turns out, I'd hit a vein, not an artery (which would have required surgery, what?!) and was good to go with two little stitches. Doc told me it'd leave a scar to which I replied, "What?! How will I continue my career as a foot model?!" At which point he looked from me to my foot several times before saying, "Really? No. Really?" 

"Um, my husband refers to them as 'troll feet', so what do you think?"

"No."

And that's why those doctors get paid the big ole bucks.

HOLY MOLY. This was the world's longest post. If you stuck around the for whole thing, give yourself a pat on the back. You've earned it. 

Until next time, stay away from food processors. They's cray cray.

Read more »

DIY: Blue Christmas Dress

 As you read this, you might be sitting in your decked-out-for-the-holidays living room. Complete with a bedazzled and trimmed tree, wreath on the door, candles flickering in every window and lights strung outside the house.

If you came over to my house, you'd find a couple of pumpkins on my front step, flowers still blooming in planters (darn petunias just won't die!) and a bedazzled and trimmed pink Christmas tree. It kinda looks like Holiday Goulash. I'd apologize to my neighbors if they were still speaking to me.

Despite all that, what I do have is one completed Christmas dress! And not just any ole completed Christmas dress but one that Lights Up!! That's right, something that rad calls for Unnecessary Capitalization and Multiple Exclamation Points!! Eat That, Grammar Po-Po.

No, that's not my beeper. I upgraded to a cell phone last week. It's my battery pack for my LED lights.

I couldn't resist this vintage reproduction fabric when I found it at my local fabric shop. I scooped up three yards and decided to go with another version of the Simplicity pattern I used for my Cuckoo Clock Dress. This time, I went sleeveless for a coupla reasons: one, if you know me at all, you know I hate putting in sleeves. Like, hate isn't even a strong enough word. Despise. Detest. De-reallydon'tlike. And, two, I felt sans sleeves would give this dress a vintage vibe.

 But the idea to create a light-up dress didn't happen until hubs and I took a trip to his fave store in the whole universe: Big Lots.

Now, my hubs is an Idea Man. He is constantly coming up with new ideas for food trucks (my fave: the Organic Create-Your-Own-Flavor Cotton Candy Cart), clothing, and, of course, musical instruments. I usually know when a Big Idea is coming because his sentences begin with, "Tell me what you think of this..."

And that's what happened when I was wandering the isles of B.L. on Saturday, checking out where all ya'll snagged your Christmas decor. Hubs pointed out the little box of lights and said, "Tell me what yo think of this: You make your Christmas dress light up."

 Now, sometimes, hub's big ideas are just too big. But once he explained this one, I began to think it was doable. With his help, it was actually a piece of cake. 

You can make any ole dress light up. Here's how you do it:

•  Sew a 2" hem at the bottom of your dress with a piece of twine that has a long enough tail to hang out of the opening of the hem. Leave about a 6" opening at the center front of your dress, right underneath the pockets.
• Seam rip a hole in your pocket.
• Feed the end of the LED lights through the hole.

Originally, I was going to sew in two strings of lights but the weight of two battery packs in my pockets didn't seem ideal. Hence the two strands of twine.

•   Tie the end of the lights to the end of a piece of twine and pull through. I'm making that sound very easy...it was actually a two person job.
• Untie string from the lights and close most of the hem opening.

 Dress front and back. This dress version of the Simplicity dress actually went by quickly. Skipping those four hour sleeves really helped. Normally I'd need sleeves in December but so far, no. It's been almost 70 degrees for the last coupla days.

This bodice is different than the other dress too in that it doesn't have that inverted V thingie. Thankfully.

 So you know, sewing a blue Christmas dress means I had Elvis' Blue Christmas running through my head the entire time. I managed to score this unopened album over Thanksgiving for a mere $3! It's been spinning on my record player since.

 And so there you have it! A Blue Christmas Dress. I'm pretty stoked and I can't wait to wear it to school. The kids are always full of questions and curiosity when I wear I dress I've created. 

Okay. I'm off to remove my pumpkins, planters and finish the Christmas decoratin' I've started. Because the song goes "I'll have a Blue Christmas..." not "I'll have a Pumpkin on my Porch for Two Months Christmas." Although that does have a certain ring to it...

Read more »

DIY: Bewitch Yourself

Remember the TBA dress I mentioned in the last post? Well, here it is: The Bewitched Dress. Which doesn't really have any connection to the old television show except that when I donned the little pointy hat, the batwing'ed shades and the witchy shoes, I suddenly felt very Samantha Stevens. And who doesn't wanna feel as though they could cast a coupla spells with the twitch of a nose?

I actually have a little Samantha Stevens story (btw, if you know me for like 5 minutes, you'll find I have a "story" for just about any occasion). This story begins way back when I was in 8th grade and an absolute Trifecta of Fugly: glasses the size of dinner plates, braces complete with headgear and a gangly 98 pounds. Smokin' Hot. 

Needless to say, the boys were not exactly fallin' at my feet, let alone talkin' to me. And when they did, I was just plain clueless. Case in point: my response to a transaction with a Junior With a Mustache: 

Junior with a Mustache: Hey, what's your name? 

8th Grade Me: Cassie Stephens.

JWM: Oh, like Samantha Stevens! 

8GM: [dopey confused look]

JWM: You know, from that old show Bewitched! Are you related?

8GM: [lacking any sense of humor] What? No. That's a TV show.

JWM: I bet you are related. I bet you can twitch your nose and make stuff happen.

8GM: What would I make happen? 

JWM: [shrugs and turns to talk to his other mustache'd friends]

Present Me: [face palm]

So I might not wear the headgear (still have it though, thanks Hoarder Mom!), the big ole glasses or have that stick-thin frame but I'm still a complete and total geek. Which is what drew me to this total geek-tastic owl fabric. The design was originally created by one of my favorite fabric designers Tammis Keefe. I've actually used her fabric designs in two other versions of this dress. Her designs have most recently been reproduced by fabric designer Michael Miller. I paired the owls with black linen for the midriff and vintage fabric from my stash.

Oh, Elizabeth Montgomery. How beautiful are you? I need that big tousled hair and those cat eyelashes pronto. Do some nose twitchin' and make that happen for me, won't ya?

Now this dress doesn't have the sleeve issue that my el Dia de los Muertos dress had...but I still managed to procrastinate long enough to add some bewitching decorations to the house. Like this giant web I thrifted with some phoney-baloney leaves and a die cut spider.

Okay, that whole nose twitching thing? Check out the difference between Elizabeth Montgomery's (aka Samatha Stevens) nose twitch and mine. Let's see if you can tell the difference...

Do you see the diff? She's actually not wiggling her nose but moving her mouth from side to side. Which is much cuter than my face. I look like I'm trying to silently squeak out a noisy fart. Again, Smokin' Hot.

You try it. Just wiggle your mouth from side to side. It gives the illusion you are wiggling your nose. Without that Squeaky Fart Face look.

Well, once I had my nose wiggly down pat, I was magically able to decorate my mantle. I sewed the garland using some images I had die cut at school. And I added hubs' deer antlers and turtle shells that he'd found on his walks in the woods.

Have you ever sewn paper on your sewing machine before? So super easy. For these, I just ran one of the die cuts through my sewing machine, let the machine continue to run while I gently pulled on the die cut piece and then inserted another piece. I did this for my mantle way back in February too.

So, to bring this whole post full circle, I'm gonna give Junior with a Mustache an answer to his thought about "making stuff happen." 

What would I make happen? 

Well, this October, I think I would just Bewitch Myself. And my house. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got headgear to go put in. 

P.S. Outfit details:   witchy shoe covers and mini doll hat: JoAnn's; Best Sunglasses Ever!: one of my super thoughtful students. You know who you are, thanks Little Buddy!

Read more »

Vintage 911: Shrink My Dress

Vintage 911 before...and after.

Just recently a totally awesome coworker gave me this amazing vintage dress. I immediately fell in love with the print. I mean, it's got it all: umbrellas, toucans, starfish, a startled lady in a swim cap  -- it's just the most adorable thing ever. The prob? There was just a little too much fabric. Everywhere. A nip/tuck was in order.

Upon close examination, I found that this dress was entirely hand sewn. Can you imagine? In high school, when I was sewing-machine-less, I hand stitched the hem of a skirt. The process and the end result were equally painful.

 When thinking of how I would alter this dress, my first thought was to simply take in the sides and be done with it. However, that proved to be impossible for a couple of reasons. One, the dress only had a top button at the back of the neck. If the dress was altered to be form fitting, there would be no getting in and out of it. Two, the dress was pretty poorly crafted. I mean, it was hand sewn, the seamstress did what she could. But I wanted to do this dress up right. So, no short cuts. No slight modifications. This was gonna need to be a complete redo.

 I began by dissecting the dress. This was so hard to do as I wasn't sure exactly how this was going to end. I couldn't bear the thought of facing my work buddy knowing that I'd needlessly slaughtered her dress. Despite my sweaty palms and worry, I hacked away.

After cutting the back of the dress from top to bottom, I then took out the seam connecting the bodice to the skirt.

The original dress had a bodice that was gathered at the waist. I prefer a darted bodice, so I got out the dress pattern that I've used here, here, here and here. This cleaned up the bodice and created a more fitted look.

The sides were still wide, so I pinned and altered on my mannequin, as seen in the photo on the right.

 To be certain I took in an equal amount on both sides, I created a tissue pattern. I sewed along the line of the tissue paper, trimmed and ironed open.

 Once the bodice was complete, I was ready to add the skirt. Before I did, I took up 3 1/2" from the bottom. I then baste stitched two rows at the top of the skirt so that I could gather it.

I gathered the skirt to fit the bodice, pinned it like mad and stitched it to the bodice as seen on the right.

Gotta love a wind-created crinoline.

And, viola! Couple hours later and the dress was complete.

After adding even bigger darts on the second fitting, the dress fit much better.

Putting in the zipper was the last step. I used the zipper/tape trick again and it worked great. This dress has a beautiful pearl button at the top that I was able to keep in the dress.

Now, with the dress complete, I need your help: do I keep the parts of the dress that come off the shoulders (on left) or get rid of them (on right)? Hubs is leaning toward the look on the right...while I'm not sure if I want to take away from that wide collar.

So, what's your vote? You can cast your vote at the top of this page on the right. The last time we played this game, I was seriously out-voted (gee, thanks guys). After you vote, feel free to leave me a comment and lemme know what you think. Thanks for playing!

Read more »