Glee and Sewing (and Fat, Fashion, and Flamboyance)

Readers, I think we need to form some sort of Sewing Alliance Against Defamation (SAAD, I suppose). As I have noted before, Glee can be a little weird when it comes to gender and sewing. Then on last week's prom episode, sewing came up not once but twice! And it was all linked in to various notions of body image, gender, and sexuality.

I give you Exhibit A. Lauren bemoans that she can't find anything to fit her plus-size figure and says that she's considering making her prom dress because of it. The other girls practically recoil in horror. Brittany deadpans, "Don't, you'll look poor." So we never get to see the potentially awesome dress that Lauren would have made (I'm picturing something New Wave-inspired).



Exhibit B. The girls bring Kurt along on a dress-shopping trip. Lauren tries on a poufy yellow dress with a chic fur capelet and says, "I look like a lemon meringue pie." Brittany, with the line of the night: "I think you look delicious." I concur. Lauren looks pretty adorable, save the over-the-top skirt, which was obviously intended only as a punchline anyway. Kurt (who conveniently turns into a walking stereotype whenever the script calls for it) supposedly saves the day with some hackneyed advice about wearing a "slimming" darker color, and everyone applauds, including Lauren herself, who has never been ashamed of showing off her body. UGH. I hate this scene.

To be clear, it's not Kurt's flamboyance itself that bothers me. I love his colorful personality and I often don't think it's so out of the realm of reality. Plus, the show has done well showing a myriad of gay characters. It's when he becomes a caricature of the "gay sidekick" that I get a little uncomfortable.

Exhibit C. Kurt is super excited to bring ultra-dreamy Blaine to the prom. (Hello, who wouldn't be?! It's wrong how highly I, um, regard Darren Criss.) Being a long-established fashion history buff, Kurt of course can't just go with a half-price tux rental from his dad's buddy's shop. Instead, he whips himself up an ensemble inspired by the Royal Wedding and the late Alexander McQueen. LOVE.



Of course, the sewing nerd in me was saying, "I'm sorry, he WHIPPED UP a tailored jacket and kilt? Yeah, okay." But, yes, I can suspend my disbelief and enjoy a story. Blaine (who is out of the closet but a little afraid to rock to the boat) and Kurt's dad try to talk Kurt out of wearing something so flamboyant. Kurt declines, saying "prom is about joy, not fear." In a moment that any sewist would applaud, he declares, "I'm wearing this suit. I worked hard on it and I think it's fantastic." Go Kurt!

But . . . wait a second. Why is the show ultimately applauding Kurt's ostentatious ensemble while telling Lauren she should cover up and hide in something "slimming"? I'm happy to see Kurt express himself through sewing, but I want better for Lauren than to be given some dumb fashion advice and then made to wear a navy sack. (By Kurt himself, no less.) Kurt and Lauren both have larger-than-life personalities that create interesting storylines, but the writing so often forces them into the absurd and inauthentic.

Now, I always feel a little silly trying to analyze a show that doesn't seem to give much forethought to, you know, character development or consistency. But there's really so much to dissect here! Thoughts, readers?

Would You Pay $348 for this Dress?

Because I almost did. Seriously, I was SO close to buying this little Nanette Lepore number. I think I about lost my mind, readers. You see, I went on a lunchtime expedition to Lord & Taylor with a coworker who needed to return some shoes there. Of course, I had to take a swing by the designer dresses and try a couple on "for research."

I get that this black ponte knit sheath probably doesn't look like anything to get too crazy about. I do get that. But I put it on, and it was like THE MAGIC DRESS. I was quite sure that I looked absolutely sensational in it—it framed my tattoos perfectly, my figure looked smashing. Don't even get me started on how great my butt looked.

I can't remember the last time I bought a dress, but I really talked myself into this one, even at the steep price. It's the kind of thing I'd wear to work all the time.

The only problem was that it had a tiny little flaw: the twist tie that goes around the waist had become un-tacked on one side and was flopping around. The easiest thing in the world to fix, right? But for $348, I wanted a flawless one.

I told my issue to the sales person. She didn't have another size 10, sorry. At that point my friend cheekily piped up that I might be offered a discount on the flawed one, which the sales girl declined to do. My only option was to pay full price for the one they had, apparently. Readers, I was NOT going to be making any repairs to a $348 dress before I even wore it. It was the principle of the thing. I'm sure you understand.

Well, I left it, thinking I would find it elsewhere online. But by the time I got back to the office, the magic of the MAGIC DRESS had worn off. Was I really about to pay that kind of money for a doubleknit sheath dress? Granted, it had incredible butt-flattering properties and a few special design features (pleated cap sleaves, a wide waistband, a surplice pleated sweetheart neckline, and the aforementioned waist wrap) . . . but nothing I absolutely couldn't try to replicate, I suppose. So instead of ordering the dress, I ordered three yards of black doubleknit. When I'm going to find time to sew with it, I'm not sure.

Damn, it's hard being principled sometimes.

Please tell me you understand, readers. That a certain magical item of clothing has you so entranced that $348 seems like an absolutely reasonable price for a simple work dress. Anyone?

WTF Sewing Moment on Glee

Let me start by saying that I loved tonight's episode of Glee so hard. Jeff was working late, and he arrived home at the end of the episode to find me sobbing on the couch trying to explain why Lady Gaga's "Pokerface" performed as a ballad by Lea Michele and Idina Menzel had me positively weeping. So many other good moments too: Finn sticking up for Kurt while dressed in a red latex gown, Puck singing "Beth" (oh, the waterworks!), and the girls and Kurt (and Santana!) killing it on "Bad Romance." Oh, Glee! After many weeks of being embarrassed that I like you, you came back strong tonight. But there is one little moment that we need to discuss.

The Mystique of the Long-Sleeved Dress

What is it about the October issue of Vogue and long-sleeved dresses? The beginning of fall seems to send fashion writers into a tizzy of "OMG, dresses with sleeeeevz!" You might remember that last October was the issue that Plum Sykes wrote her supremely annoying essay on her quest to find the perfect dress with long sleeves.

Here is a taste of the annoyingness:

There are three things a woman really needs at 38: a husband, at least one child, and a dress with long sleeves, which, I have discovered over the years,may be harder to come by than the husband. I found two potential husbands in the space of four years—and married one of them. But in all that time, I found only one really good dress with long sleeves, despite looking for such a frock just as diligently as I looked for the husband.

Ah yes, the eternal quest to acquire husbands, children, and long-sleeved dresses. WTF, Plum Sykes? I think, as sublimely irritating as her first statement is, Sykes has an eye for a good silhouette with long sleeves: high, tight armholes and a sleeve that extends past the wrist.

Now this year's October issue loudly states on its cover: "WHY YOUR DRESS NEEDS LONG SLEEVES." Uh, okay. The evidence for this bold statement is a spread of loudly printed, long-sleeve dresses.

I think I've come to a conclusion on this frenzy: well-tailored, long-sleeved dresses are expensive. (Setting a sleeve in perfectly, as we sewists all know, can be a challenge.) Sure, you can get a long-sleeved poly/spandex jersey dress at any Macy's, but what about one in a lovely wool or crepe? Try a Roland Mouret:

These will only set you back a couple grand.

I confess that, with the weather turning a bit chilly, I've been feeling the pull toward long-sleeved dresses myself. Thank god I can make my own. Here are some of my pattern picks:

Vintage McCall's 6523. I adore the bell skirt here. It has a tulle petticoat to keep its structure!

McCall's 5927, with its high neck and slouchy sleeves:

This fab number from the August 2009 issue of Burda World of Fashion:

And lastly, Vogue 8615.

I think the key to these dresses is making sure you have the right bodice fit, as well as fabric choice. To get a slimming silhouette, one might need to raise the armhole a bit. And, of course, in order to maintain mobility, you'll want a fabric with a hint of stretch in it. It does help, in life, to be able to move one's arms.

So, what do you think? Are you feeling the long-sleeved dress this season?

Vogue Patterns Winter/Holiday Collection: a Big Batch of WTF

I imagine it must be very hard to work at one of the Big Four sewing pattern companies. In fact, I would guess that it's probably a lot like working in book publishing: you have to toil away with limitless creative energy and enthusiasm at something that many people consider to be a dying art. (Yes, reading and sewing are both definitely endangered in the U.S.) There are probably dreaded bottom lines, scary budgets, and constant restructurings. So, believe me, I get it. But still, Vogue. WTF?

I got an e-mail announcing their winter/holiday 2009 collection yesterday and hopped right over to the site to take a look. What greeted me was . . . befuddling.

Let's start with the Anna Sui offering.

Anna, WTF is this? I actually enjoy granny-chic styles. But seriously, this is way too much of a good thing. A high neckline and an ankle length skirt? A wrist corsage? Goodness gracious.

There was also lots of asymmetrical hem action.

Holy elementary school art teacher!

Now for the real clincher:

What. The. Hell. Is. This.

The hat really takes the cake, does it not? Wouldn't you think that the jaunty chapeau would be an integral part of the pattern? No, my friends! According to the pattern description, that is a "purchased hat." Good god, where does one purchase such a hat?

There are two new Vintage Vogue offerings, which are quite fine and acceptable and boring.

I'm sorry, what was I saying? I seem to have dozed off for a second there.

Ah yes! The Vogue Winter/Holiday collection. In my honest, irritable opinion: a big batch of WTF and tedium.

P.S. If I have offended anyone who might like these styles, please take my rantings with a grain of salt. I'm a cranky old broad, remember? You sew what you want and do it with style, ladies!

The Dirndl Mini: WTF?

Here's a current trend I'm totally confused about. While recently browsing at Anthropologie, I found all of their gathered skirts to be of a completely befuddling length. The one above is a shocking 17 inches. Mon dieu! Fetch me my smelling salts!

I've noticed girls wearing these out and about. They usually seem to be paired with a tank top, a wide belt, and flats. Cute, but I always wish their skirts were about 4 inches longer. Not just for modesty's sake. (Though can you imagine trying to pick something up off the floor in one of these?) My real complaint is one of proportions. I think a knee-length gathered skirt is flattering because the poufiness of the waistline is tempered by the weight of a longer hem.

I usually make my skirts 24 inches long, which hits right below my kneecap. The longest gathered skirt I could find at Anthro was only 20.5 inches long.

The irony, though, is that I'm always complaining about the long length of vintage dirndl patterns. For my full gathered skirt from VoNBBS, I had to take a good four inches off of the pattern. Of course, hemlines are one of the most quickly shifting and provocative elements of fashion history. There are even economic theories surrounding hemlines, as well as a handy "abstract conceptual hemline overview chart", if you're really interested.

What do you think of these lengths? Do I sound like a cranky old fuddy duddy?

Snuggie Sewing Pattern: WTF?

Beware, my friends. Snuggie is invading both the fashion and sewing worlds. For those of you who are lucky enough to live in a culture that is untouched by the Snuggie phenomena, let me explain. (Also: can I come live with you?)

A Snuggie is a blanket. With sleeves. Because, you see, traditional blankets are so terribly inefficient! You can't, like, do stuff in blankets. Important stuff like eating and clicking the remote. Oh, and reading. (Whatever.) Amazingly, Snuggie has a major competitor which has named their product the "Slanket." (Get it? Sleeve/blanket = slanket?)

Snuggie took part in New York Fashion Week on Tuesday, which I have to say, is brilliantly cheeky of them. Jezebel wrote up some must-see hilarious faux commentary on the show here.

But the thing that gets to me is this new McCall pattern (#5970). So, this is considered a "contemporary, trendsetting design"? It's also one of those "one-hour projects" that seem to be replacing designs that are actually interesting. This is truly the Angel of Death to the sewing world, don't you think? I mean, is this where we've ended up? Really?

Come on, guys, let's all go down to Jo-Ann's and pick up some fleece with kittens printed on it! And then we'll have a Snuggie-making party! And sit on our sofas for the rest of our lives!

(I know. I'm a snob.)

I've actually heard people declare these horrid things to be fabulous and ultra cozy. While I do not doubt that one bit (the cozy part), I just don't think I can bring one of these into my life. To me, that's like saying "You know what I need? More fleece! And more sweatpants! Big baggy ones!" I mean, it's in the same direction. The direction I'm trying not to go in.

Okay, true confession time (now that I've alienated anyone who might want one of these): will any of you be making McCall's 5970? Do any of you own a Snuggie? Don't be shy. Jump right in.

Project Runway and Avant Garde Fashion: WTF?

Last night's Project Runway included the now-familiar "avant garde" design challenge. I have to admit, I've always been a bit bemused by these episodes. It seems that, at least to PR contestants, avant garde means there is required to be at least one huge poufy or sculptural thing extending from the model's body, like Irina and Johnny's design, pictured above.

Why, I wondered, in the world of Project Runway, does avant-garde always mean playing with volume? I suspect it has much to do with the nature of Project Runway itself, that little fashion tempest in a teapot. Considering that the very definition of avant-garde is something that opens boundaries of art forms, is it really feasible to conceive, design, and create an avant-garde look in one day?

I think that's the thing that's always bothered me about these PR challenges: the avant-garde project seems like an afterthought, something to be whipped together. So the designers rush around like the insane, taking breaks to whine at each other, and then end up just plopping a big pouf of organza on a model's shoulder and crossing their fingers that they don't get cut.

In reality, I suspect that experimental looks actually require a lot more planning and technical expertise than traditional designs. As we've seen, to try to be a "conceptual" designer on Project Runway is to essentially be ridiculous - and a death wish, competitively speaking. Just this season, we've met the unforgivably weird Ari Fish, who was cut for her "disco soccer ball halter diaper," and then the ethereally annoying Malvin who was axed for his bizarre chicken/egg take on fertility for the maternity challenge. I think we all collectively groaned when he primly posited that he was "just too conceptual for America."

Oddly enough, the designs I've seen on PR that have felt the most avant garde to me were Chris March's from the All-Star Challenge. His minimalistic and monastic creations seemed both beautiful and ominious, evoking something beyond just clothes. (Maybe he wasn't napping through the challenge, he was just thinking really hard.)

But I suppose this all opens up the question: what the hell is avant-garde fashion anyway? What makes a design truly experimental, in the way avant-garde theatre or art is experimental? And I'm afraid that's one I'm not prepared to answer. I guess I just wish the producers, judges, and contestants of Project Runway were.

And you, lovely readers? What do you think of the avant garde challenges? Also, any fashion nerds out there that could help out with some historical context?

Simplicity "Slenderette" Patterns: WTF?

So, I just received a copy of this lovely dress pattern from this Etsy seller who has lots of great vintage finds. You'll notice that it's marked "slenderette" in the black box at the top of the pattern. I've been racking my brain and the internet to try to figure out what that term could possibly mean.

Unfortunately, the pattern doesn't specify anywhere, and I can't seem to find any specific information online. But as far as I can tell, these patterns were made for women of a certain size. Now, the pattern I bought is for a 34" bust, which of course doesn't jibe with our modern idea of plus-sizes. But when I did specific searches for slenderette patterns, I saw a lot of larger sizes that you don't normally come across that often in vintage patterns: lots of 40" and 42" bust sizes.

For what it's worth, there was also something called a "half-size slenderette." The bust sizes run in odd instead of even numbers: 35" up to 41", as far as I can tell. One site specifies that the half-size slenderettes were for women 5' 3" and under.

But I also found a slenderette in a bust size 32". Damn, I'm confused.

What can we make of all this? Were these patterns actually made for plus-size women? Or were they suppose to give the impression of slenderness?

Furthermore, what in the world could a word like "slenderette" possibly even mean? Slender means slim, and "ette" is a suffix added to a word to make it diminuitive and feminine. Kitchenette. Bacholorette. Smurfette. So, I guess slenderette is like extreme slenderness. Whoa.

Damn euphemisms.

Does anyone have any clues or ideas about these patterns? I'd love to hear your thoughts.