Scarlet and black

As a granny fashionista, I feel that it is my duty to dispense the occasional handy hint regarding matters sartorial, and this weekend I felt that I learned a lesson worth sharing.

And my advice is, please don't listen to those grande dames of decluttering, and ladies of high fashion who insist that if an item of clothing has not been worn for a couple of years, then the only thing to do is to toss it smartly into a bin bag and consign it to history.

No, the granny fashionista knows better - and in fact, I have come to the conclusion with matters of fashion and style, then the older the better, and even better if it is so old that you have forgotten that it belongs to you.

Many moons ago

Last Friday I found myself in the unusual situation of deciding what to wear to a party more than one hour in advance (mainly because those dastardly admirals were keeping me waiting, and I had time on my hands) and I stood in front of the mirror gazing sadly as this year's party frock purchase, and finding it sadly wanting.

I made the mistake of buying a new dress in the spring, thinking that three rather exciting parties in the offing justified such impulsive extravagance and would of course reduce the CPW to a mere nothing (fashionista-speak for cost per wear, a concept about as useful as that of investment dressing which somehow implies that spending large amounts on clothes is akin to putting the money into the bank or a pension. Take it from me, the more you spend on fashion, the more you spend and the less you have in the bank, whatever the CPW).

And as for my little piece of investment dressing, it has not stepped up to the mark for any party as yet. 'It is a very pretty dress,' said Princess Bunchy kindly. 'I think I might be cold,' I replied as I tried leggings and a variety of cardis, and every single pair of shoes to my name, and felt the sinking feeling that this fatal frock was not really up to a Hollywood theme in a rather lovely venue in the Great Wen, or anywhere else for that matter. In fact, this dress came under the category of Big Mistake, and contrary to the effusive affirmations of the shop assistants, it was not a dress for me but a dress for somebody else. I am not sure quite whom, but definitely not for me.

So Princess Bunchy went exploring in the back of the wardrobe and emerged with three party frocks from many moons ago, including the one I wore to my twenty-first birthday dance. 'It's rather revealing,' she said in a shocked voice, and I tried to explain about the 1980s and strapless ballgowns with boned bodices, not that my frock was strapless or boned, or revealing as I explained as I shifted the waistband up six inches to the 1980s, and pulled the laces tight, so this was only marginally relevant. 'Whalebone,' she said knowledgeably, and then I had to explain that actually I am not that old and plastic had been invented by the time I first donned a ballgown.

As you might gather, we were not getting very far: shocking pink and purple chiffon in layers, no, too strappy for granny arms. Pale grey and cream silk with pearl buttons from Singapore - dropped waist and boxy shape far too girlish. The princess dug down into another layer - only twenty years this time - heavy black velvet with a wonderful drape on the skirt. Beautiful - a dress of dreams and probably only worn once, and I still don't regret the purchase because I would wear it again if someone would invite me to a winter party (but I don't get out much, especially in winter). But a touch warm for London in August, even one as chilly as this.

Time was

And then, hiding behind everything, covered by dry cleaner's plastic, the princess pulled out a dress only a year older than she is. Scarlet and black, chiffon and burnt velvet, a whole raft of memories came spilling out with it. A mere fourteen years old, from a time when the Commander-in-Chief occupied a position which required his daughter to have one or two rather smart party frocks. And a sad time for other reasons, and I remembered the other velvet frock in ash grey and dark blue, rather roomy in its cut, which I had discarded because of the sad memories attached to it.

And this one in scarlet and black - bought after the grey one, for a summer party which I can't quite remember, but I remember feeling not quite at ease in the dress, and trying to forget things and be cheerful and graceful in a dress that was a little too tight and a little too bright for my feelings.

Scarlet and black, hidden away for all these years, and from memory, and now not too tight and bold at all, quite perfect for wearing on a red carpet and having its picture taken.

Very old

So this frock did go to the ball after all, and the story had a happy ending.
 
And the moral is, never throw away a party frock, because they come festooned with memories of all kinds, and far better to wear a really old one, where the cost is historic (and that is a genuine economic concept) and thus more thrifty than buying a new one.

Or you can buy a really old one, older than you are, which has been emptied out of someone else's bin bag, and thus become a genuine granny fashionista. Just like I did last week.

News from nowhere

I was young once, although it seems an awfully long time ago, young and foolish too (I can feel an Andrew Aguecheek moment coming on but for the sake of all I will smother it quickly).

But I am not sure that I would ever have gone cycling in the snow and ice, wearing shorts and no coat.

Pomona on a bicycle (no, I'm only joking)

The General is obviously made of sterner stuff than his mamma (and those of you who know the General will know exactly where to find him in the picture).

The General and a few hearty friends

The snow has been slow to melt here, and as an old countrywoman I know that means more to come - snow lingering on the ground draws more along and the skies certainly have a grey enough air.

Little and large

When the light improves enough for me to take some pretty pictures I will post up my long-postponed giveaway, which is of a stitchy nature. I am sure that you are all overcome with excitement.

Overcome with excitement at the news

All in the bag: heaving out a winner

Twice in the last couple of weeks I have been listening to Radio 4 and heard people I know from university days, who are most definitely on the way to being Eminent (if they are not already) opining in a most grown-up and erudite fashion, the second time this morning when I was standing in the kitchen, enmeshed in domesticity, well wrapped up in a pinny and stirring up some double chocolate muffins.

I think that I am beginning to feel a failure, never having been invited onto Radio 4 and actually not doing too well on the grown-up front (although the very sagacious Angela did call me erudite recently; I am thinking of having a badge made with the label 'Erudite' to make up for my lack of an Important Job, or indeed Eminence).

Bag on a tree

I comforted myself with the thought that I do know how to knit socks (although I am struggling with my Postmodern Socks at the moment, not so much with the theory as the putting the postmodernism into practice), and that yesterday I made a Ruched Happy Bag and a Swatch Book Cover, both to be carried in my recently completed Multi Tasker Tote (made from a pattern by Anna Maria Horner) - fabric Pop Garden flowers in green by Heather Bailey, together with Bijoux Tile in ice blue and red (all from Saints and Pinners).

For Multi-Taskers everywhere

And anyone who has need of a Multi Tasker Tote must of course be multi-tasking, which seems to be a most happening thing to do, although possibly for credibility's sake the Efficient Multi-Tasker should be wearing a suit, and as you will see from the photographs so ably composed and taken by the Head Chef I am failing most sadly on the sartorial front, the recent vertiginous drop in ambient temperatures having necessitated the donning of vest, cardi and mitts (luckily we have B&Bs arriving tomorrow so lighting the fire is allowed (this is why I was making chocolate muffins again, and not of course for me to comfort eat while contemplating the ashes of my career ambitions, oh no)).

How not to stand

I would not dare criticize the Head Chef's competence in fashion photography. I hinted that the photographer must be below the subject for a slimming effect, and thus the suggestion was that I should stand on a very wobbly chair (one of whose ilk has been known to collapse under the weight of an only moderately large course attendee on a former unfortunate occasion).

Note the photographer's careful attention re extraneous objects in background of photo

On viewing the results of the Head Chef's shutter work and being asked to comment, I made the mistake of being honest, and ventured the opinion that the images were Not Up To Scratch at which point I found out that the fault was in the way that I was standing. It was good to clear that one up, and I shall be very careful not to stand in any pictures again.

Loops and pockets - how jolly!

I am happy to say that my jolly new multitasking bag is far more photogenic than Pomona the granny fashionista, the epitome of cardigan grunge chic, and I would ask you to admire the nifty little inside pocket, so artfully divided into sections for pencil and pen (for multitasking mummies always have such things handy for sticky moments in restaurants even when their offspring are way beyond the stage of having any call for such old-fashioned writing implements).

And the contents are even more exciting for one of my limited needleworking skills - I have made another Ruched Happy Bag, from Amy's wonderful pattern (you can see my first Happy Bag here); these are truly happy bags, for they make me most happy to have made such a professional-looking zippy bag.

And I have also made a Swatch Book Cover, from a Keykalou pattern, so that I may always be prepared with notebook to hand in case I have any Deep Thoughts, which I can write down in the hope that one day someone on Radio 4 would like me to expound them so that I, too, can join the pantheon of those who fulfilled their early promise and made their Aged Parents proud.

This is a rather nifty pattern, which works for the two sizes of Moleskine Cahier - it thus makes a good present, for wherever the recipient is located, they are sure to be able to find refills. Not only do Moleskine Cahiers come in large and small, they also come in ruled, plain, and squared, so by choosing the fabrics appropriately I have come to the conclusion that you can make these Swatch Book Covers as a present for almost anyone (can you hear the production line cranking up?). And what is even better about both of these patterns, they only use small pieces of fabric, so great for using up stash - just right for an thrifty Christmas as the world economy approaches ruin.

And now we come to the Very Important Bit: choosing the winner of the Sugru giveaway.

Can I help?

As I cast about for a receptacle capacious enough for all of you to fit in, my optics fell upon the Multi Tasker Tote and the Little Stranger lurking about with intent.

In here, you say?

As you will see, the Little Stranger needed a little explanation and encouragement, but I think she is beginning to understand the concept of the blog giveaway.

How far down?

A sausage roll is an added incentive - I am not sure what they put in dog sausage rolls, but I suspect that it is either Addictive or Mouse.

Oh, I see!

And so my little furry friend rootled around in the recesses, and out she came with a winner.

Got one!

The photograph doesn't make it clear, but hip, hip, hooray for Mrs Micawber - perhaps you could let me know your address so that we can get the Sugru winging its way to you.

It's Mrs Micawber . . .

The Little Stranger was disappointed that there was only one winner to be rootled for today, but hey, who knows, another day may bring another giveaway.

Now I must get back to the production line: the geese are getting fat . . . .

A sartorial emergency; or, how to make a Dorothy costume in a hurry

I hope that a nice weekend was had by all and sundry: I found myself in an emergency situation (not of the medical kind, thank goodness) when on Friday night a certain Princess informed me that she had decided that she and her black sheep were going to the agricultural show as Dorothy and Toto, and thus she would need a Dorothy dress and ruby slippers in a frighteningly short timeframe. Luckily I dissuaded her from going as Toto, and the sheep as Dorothy - a Dorothy dress for a sheep, or even a lamb, seemed utterly beyond my ken.

As time was of the essence, ordering in a Dorothy costume was out of the question. I thought I had the solution in a length of blue gingham left over from lining the Princess's crib in the last century, and McCall's 5458, which I made up in red homespun here. Skip the pockets, make the body in blue gingham, and the sleeves in white, and hey presto! Except the Princess is at the foal-like stage and there was no earthly chance of making a dress with a modicum of decency with only a metre and a half of fabric.

So off we went to the shops on Saturday, where in the first shop we found the perfect small blue check in Makower's Blue Gingham - except it was the end of a roll and only 1.6m ... Cue quick rethink: we decided on a skirt with bib and straps, and also bought two metres of red satin ribbon to tie round the neck of the sheep (I did struggle with how much ribbon is needed to encompass the neck of a very fluffy sheep, and erred on the generous side, just in case.)

Then the red shoes - oh dear, the red shoes! Thereby hangs a tale as long as your arm and back, involving a decidedly high-street shy mother and daughter visiting every single possible shoe emporium, and every possible emporium which might by a remote chance sell a pair of shoes that were remotely red, and remotely fitted a Princess with the most awkward feet, Cinderella-like in their slimness, and plum in the middle of every size interval known to man. My strength began to fail, and I was a-weary,  as I racked my brain for a solution to our dilemma.

So desperate did I become that I was begging my little Princess to wear shoes that did not fit, shoes that were truly uncomfortable, shoes with heels appallingly high for one of such tender years ... and finally as we entered the shop where we first started, where a pair of ruby red, kitten-heeled, excruciatingly uncomfortable-looking shoes, which I had rejected out of hand at the beginning of our outing, proved to be the most comfortable pair that a Princess had ever worn or set eyes on in all her born days - and so, dear readers, I bought them, on condition that the Princess took me straight to a coffee shop and fed me copious amounts of cake and intravenous caffeine, or failing that, half a scone and a latte, as long as I could go home and we never visited another shoe shop again, ever.

And then home to stitch, stitch, stitch - but luckily such was my dear girl's enthusiasm, she did a lot of the machining and some of the ironing, while I puzzled out how to make clothes without a pattern, which up until now has not been in Pomona's skillset.

 But she was very happy with the result - not entirely authentic, but surely up to the standards of the Young Farmers, although I am not sure how the shoes will go down, severely black and protective footwear being recommended for animal handlers.

For those who might be faced with such an emergency, I made a simple dirndl skirt - the Princess is svelte enough for one width of fabric to suffice (you will need one and a half to two times the hip measurement, so for bigger hips you would have two side seams, and two pieces of two-thirds width), which she stitched into a tube.

The length was calculated by measuring the length of skirt required, then adding on enough for a double fold narrow hem (say 1 inch, or 2 cm), plus enough for the elastic waistband casing, which is made by turning over and ironing about 0.7cm/1/4in, then turning over again by the width of the elastic (3/4 in/20mm in our case), plus a tiny bit extra to make threading the elastic easier.

So, first stitch along your side seam(s) to make a tube, then around the waist for your elastic casing, leaving a gap for threading, then turn up and stitch your narrow hem.

For the bib top, I cut a double thickness on the fold, 12in/30cm square (ie a rectangle 60x30cm/24x12in) - adjust this according to the size of child, which I did by holding the fabric against her body and folding until it looked right. Iron a 30cm/12in square of lightweight interfacing to the wrong side of one half of the rectangle, fold it in half right sides together and stitch the two sides. Trim the seams and turn right sides out.  We then folded the two open sides in by about 1cm/1/4in and ironed them.

For the straps we cut two long strips twice the final width of strap required, plus a seam allowance either side. This is best done on the body - we cut them extra long, and trimmed them to length at the end. Fold the straps right sides together, stitch along the long side, iron the seam open, then turn the long tubes right sides out, and iron flat positioning the seam along the middle back.

Then tuck the straps in the open bottom of the bib at the centre and fold back diagonally to leave the bib at the two top corners as in the picture, then pin in place. Topstitch the bottom of the bib closed, and topstitch the straps in place, along each side of each strap. We sewed buttons on the outside front of the skirt waistband, and buttonholes to match on the bottom two corners of the bib, working out the positions by pinning on the body. A large popper on the bottom centre inside of the bib fixes the centre to the skirt.

Then pass the straps over the shoulders and cross them at the back. They need to be quite tight to stay on - sew buttons at appropriate points on the inside of the skirt waistband, and make buttonholes in the straps - and hey presto! You just need a basket and a compliant dog (or sheep) and you have a Dorothy.

By making a detachable bib, it means that the outfit will have more than one life. We plan to reuse the skirt afterwards by shortening to a slightly more modern length by turning up a few cm and hemming, and removing the buttons to make a pretty summer skirt. We might even add a bit of ricrac or lace trim at this point.

The shirt was made using Simplicity 4206 (a sewing pattern for dummies like me!), and some white polycotton similar to school shirting, which I had been given some years ago, and never used. Be warned - this pattern comes out very small, so I made age 14 and added 4in/10cm to the body length, so that it could tuck in the skirt. By gathering tightly we achieved a puff sleeve effect.

So that's how I spent my weekend. I had dreamed of having fun with some fabric scraps and this lovely pattern, and perhaps completing another couple of Farmer's Wives, but never mind - a happy Princess in a Dorothy dress is enough to warm the cockles of anyone's heart, and easier to make than a Dorothy costume for a sheep, so I am thankful for small mercies.

Delectable floral frocks

In a previous post I gave my dear readers a little thrifty hint regarding a most enticing charity shop to be found just across the road from the V&A, and what is more, I also dropped a little hint about a floral frock which was hanging there waiting for me to call in.

So in the spirit of show and tell which suffuses the land of blog, I present this flowery dress in all its rosy beauty.

Note the shoes

I must admit that I hesitated just a little on the point of purchase, for I am not used to paying out amounts that venture into double figures in a charity shop, but the label said LK Bennett and although I thought this was just a shoe shop, I had a vague idea that they certainly aren't at the cheap and cheerful end of the market, thus this charming confection must be a Bargain not to be sniffed at (and subsequent research confirmed this, to my great satisfaction).

It's my best side

And to continue my career as self-styled granny fashionista, you will be very glad to hear that this new addition to my wardrobe of flowery frocks also coordinates beautifully with my granny cardi.

Granny fashionista

And just in case you were concerned that I was hurtling into granny territory at too cracking a rate, I think that I must be regressing into a second childhood. Those dainty little bronze pumps are courtesy of Mini Boden via Princess Bunchy.

Do I really have to face the camera?

Yes, my youngest child is now giving me her hand-me-downs as I shrink with age: or are my offspring just growing very tall?

The frock is also accessorized by a Naughty Dog who is showing promise as a canine model when not herding unwanted strangers off the premises.

(Credit where credit is due: photography and animal handling by Princess Bunchy.)

And just to confirm that my love of floral frocks shows signs of becoming an unhealthy obsession, this impossibly wonderful book has just arrived to feed my flowery fantasies and rose-tinted dreams.

Good night, sweet ladies, good night ...