Burda Tracing Time

Today I have a rare couple hours to myself, so I'm am tracing a couple patterns that I need to make from Burda's latest issues. The dress on the cover of the latest caught my eye. I am tracing it as a top, as I don't need the long sleeve top option in Virginia in the summer. It must be cooler in Germany than here. They show lots of long sleeved options for summer. (I'd faint from heat stroke if I wore some of their ideas: sequined pants and long sleeved silk high necked tops? In the summer? Really, Burda? It must be a cultural thing.)
Then I have to do an FBA, using my trusty copy of Fit For Real People, adjusting dolman sleeves. It looks pretty voluminous in the picture, so it may not need much at all. Although, on the other hand, that model is a wisp of a thing, whereas I am considerably more voluminous than she is. I'll lay a pattern piece on top of of the traced pattern of a similar top that I have already adjusted and see where I need more room.
The blue fake wrap skirt from last month's issue caught my daughter's eye, (as well as about every other thing in that issue. If you want your daughter to get interested in sewing, show her that issue. Lindsay T says the same. She made a dress for her daughter that is awesome.) My daughter has begged me to make it for her. So I will trace that too. Plus from this month's issue she likes the shirtwaist dress, the two high waist buttoned skirts and another dress. I hope I have enough tracing paper.
The other choices for me are this blue dress
and the red one.

I can't decide which I like better. Mr. Hunting Creek likes the blue one but also expressed appreciation for the red one. (I would also like the lace bedspread, and the diamond necklace in the box but that's not an option. What story are they telling here? Are they lying on the bed contemplating unwrapping that dress because of the fancy diamond necklace?) Their photographers and stylists have an interesting sense of humor. Maybe if I were German I'd get more of their visual jokes.

Don't forget that tonight we will do a drawing for the purse pattern featured earlier this week. Drop a comment on that post if you'd like to be in and sign up as a follower of the blog to be eligible for this drawing and the following ones later this month.
Happy Sewing!

Cinderella Syndrome

I love reading Burda World of Fashion, and I especially love the formal wear. I have just realized that this is some kind of mental illness. I want a velvet and silk formal dress. I don't know why. I work at home. I do not lead a Gala Formalwear life. When I was down in the fabric/sewing cave this weekend with my daughter, we counted dark teal charmeuse, silver shantung, green velvet, iridescent green/turquoise velvet, red velvet, wine velveteen, forest velveteen... I could go on. For a person who works at home and wears nice t shirts and jeans every day I have an awful lot of velvet. Every year I read the Threads issue on how to sew a velvet dress with interest. I made a velvet and silk wrap for my sister and my daughter. I made velvet stockings for gifts. Everyone loved them. I know how to sew velvet: lots of basting. But I have not made one single velvet thing for myself. I want to. I have the fabric. I have the patterns. A fellow blogger called this "an irrational lust for impractical clothing". I think I will call it the Cinderella Syndrome. When I read her words I recognized myself. "I have that too!", I thought. I wonder if our irrational brain, the one that engages in magical thinking, is reasoning "If we have a formal dress, will we then start to lead that kind of formal dress kind of life? With Glass Slippers, Princes, champagne out of the aforementioned slippers, coaches, fairy godmothers?" This is the same kind of magical thinking that reasons that broken cookies have no calories, that the cute guy "forgot" our phone number, and that trickle down economics works, in spite of all rational evidence to the contrary.
If you saw my fabric stash, you'd think that I was anticipating leading a glamorous life that required many changes of velvet and silk outfits, with some beautiful jewel toned wool coating thrown in for practicality. I think my fabric could lead a more glamorous life than I do, if it were set free to find its soul mate.( This imaginary woman has unlimited time to sew and fancies chic DVF style wrap dresses for day, and velvet ballgowns for evening.) It's all potential down there. If I sew the dress, will the invitations pour in? There's only one way to find out.