“Nic is making heart-breaking decisions over which of her concert gowns are salvageable or not. She has three that just can't be taken in any further without losing their shape entirely, one that was too magnificent to take in but was kept *because* of its very magnificence (bought in Paris in 2001, 1930's style, jet black floor-skimming dress, with a beaded and sunburst halter-neck collar, and matching short-sleeved mandarin collar jacket), and one that was never worn but is just too complicated to alter.
In other news, take note, Queens of Drag - eBay will soon have 5 spectacular evening gowns going for a song!"
They're gorgeous, these dresses, but they have to go and live out the rest of their lives being worn, and not hanging on the back of a bedroom door, loved but useless. It does make me sad, though. I had history with these dresses. Some, perhaps history of the more obscure, or even pernicious in one case, but we've been through a lot together, these dresses and I, and they deserve life back in the limelight, and not a slow fade into dusty obscurity.
But let me present unto you the Fabulous Five Dresses Of Past Glory:
There's the burgundy gown with the white 'underskirt' that I bought new from a seller on eBay in the days before it was inundated with El-Cheapo dresses from China. It was expensive, but still much cheaper than buying in a store, and was nicely made from thick, luxurious satin, complete with pretty crystal and embroidery detailing to the front, finishing with a faux over-skirt/underskirt effect that was the fashion fifteen years ago. (You can still find the style if you search hard enough, but they're really quite the product of their time. I'll attempt to spin that to make it retro and glam when I sell it, though...)
Then we have the exact same dress, but in pale blue satin and white underskirt, bought a couple of years after the burgundy one. (If it ain't broke, etc.!) This is the dress that only had one outing (for a concert in Portugal), for the simple reason that it was evil. Jinxed. Beset by satin devils who were only content when they caused harm and embarrassment to the wearer, in this case ensuring that a broken zip and a broken foot was the end result of a tumble down stairs outside the venue just after the concert. In front of the entire audience. I haven't worn it since that fall, and it's only today (ten years later) that I finally got round to repairing the zip and making it look all pretty and un-jinxy again. (I shan't be mentioning its ill-fated history on eBay, either. There's no spin doctor in the world that could make that story sound like anything other than a Stephen King novel.)
In other news, take note, Queens of Drag - eBay will soon have 5 spectacular evening gowns going for a song!"
They're gorgeous, these dresses, but they have to go and live out the rest of their lives being worn, and not hanging on the back of a bedroom door, loved but useless. It does make me sad, though. I had history with these dresses. Some, perhaps history of the more obscure, or even pernicious in one case, but we've been through a lot together, these dresses and I, and they deserve life back in the limelight, and not a slow fade into dusty obscurity.
But let me present unto you the Fabulous Five Dresses Of Past Glory:
There's the burgundy gown with the white 'underskirt' that I bought new from a seller on eBay in the days before it was inundated with El-Cheapo dresses from China. It was expensive, but still much cheaper than buying in a store, and was nicely made from thick, luxurious satin, complete with pretty crystal and embroidery detailing to the front, finishing with a faux over-skirt/underskirt effect that was the fashion fifteen years ago. (You can still find the style if you search hard enough, but they're really quite the product of their time. I'll attempt to spin that to make it retro and glam when I sell it, though...)
Then we have the exact same dress, but in pale blue satin and white underskirt, bought a couple of years after the burgundy one. (If it ain't broke, etc.!) This is the dress that only had one outing (for a concert in Portugal), for the simple reason that it was evil. Jinxed. Beset by satin devils who were only content when they caused harm and embarrassment to the wearer, in this case ensuring that a broken zip and a broken foot was the end result of a tumble down stairs outside the venue just after the concert. In front of the entire audience. I haven't worn it since that fall, and it's only today (ten years later) that I finally got round to repairing the zip and making it look all pretty and un-jinxy again. (I shan't be mentioning its ill-fated history on eBay, either. There's no spin doctor in the world that could make that story sound like anything other than a Stephen King novel.)
Next we have the dress I described in the status update. Oh my, but I thought this dress was the bees-knees! I bought it in Paris in 2001, albeit in a discount dress store on the Boulevard de Magenta. Still. I bought it in Paris, and that's what counts. The fabric itself is rather rayonesque, but it draped beautifully. The halter neckline (although in all honesty one that I should have avoided, having no neck at the time to actually speak of) was a triumph of beading, and matched together with the little jacket, looked like something out of a golden-oldie Hollywood film. It made me feel very glamorous. I managed to time things just about right in the Summer of 2013 and I was able to wear it one last time in concert before it started to swamp me, which was wonderful. (Please excuse the light patches on the photos. The sun shone. My phone's camera wasn't sure what to do with such a rare phenomenon.)
The purple gown is a bit of a mystery to me. I got it in a sale, but I don't remember when. Possibly last millennium. I do have a vague inkling that although I thought it was a tiny bit too small for me at the time, I felt like it was a bargain that had to be snapped up, because it would fit eventually? Ah, I'm rolling my eyes so hard at my past self right now. It's quite a simple dress, with a gorgeous curved V neckline, but you know, I strongly suspect the Cadbury purple colour had a lot to do with the belief that the gown needed to come home with me... It actually fits a little loosely around the hips just now, but because it's such a classic dress there's nowhere to hide my amateur bodice-alteration skills, so it's joining the others in the way of eBay.
Last is the dress I don't really want to sell yet because I managed to alter it so that it sits nicely at my waist and doesn't gape at my bust, and continues to sit without rucking at my hips even with all my taking in. And I did a fantastic job, even though I say so myself - check out the seven inches in total that I took in at the side and the back. Yes, that's right. SEVEN INCHES in total! Those stitches were tiny, even and beautiful. Not that you can actually tell, given that the dress was chucked on the bed to take an impromptu photo. But they are. Those stitches were exemplary!
I don't really want to sell it because it still fits. Just about. It's on the verge of being baggy, and there's no way I'll be able to take it in anywhere else without making it look like some designer wannabe from Project Runway had a massive amount of fabric to use and got way too creative with ruching. It's such a gorgeous dress; bought on eBay (you may be noticing a trend here) from a private seller in the States around 2004, it fit me absolutely perfectly when it arrived. Described as 'apple red' (which I found charming, because if there's any colour I'm used to associating with apples, it's always green) and beautifully beaded at the bodice and at the opening to the faux underskirt at the back, it was a dream to wear. Once. Then I got too big. And then I got smaller again, thought I'd lost out on being able to garb myself in its glory, then discovered that my sewing skills were enough to render it sing-in-able again!
So it's there, hanging on the back of my bedroom door, waiting to be worn before it's too late. But there's more chance of me being able to sell it if I have other dresses for sale at the same time. Such is the nature of the eBay selling beast. And it won't be long (fingers crossed) before it's not a wearable option any more. I just can't quite bring myself to attack it with my seam ripper and give it back its former glory.
FOUR DAYS LATER...
Well, attack it with the seam ripper I did. I figured that as I already knew what colours I was to wear for all concerts until March (a combination of certain ensembles having their own colour scheme; and a couple of other soloists who like to organise what dresses they will wear well in advance of the actual performances and wanted to make sure we didn't clash) and that I hope to lose something in the weight department at least by March (the fates willing), Apple Red will be made redundant. And because it's such a glorious gown I'd like someone else to partake of the joy. I was sad to rip out those threads just the same, even though the dress is now back to it's original (and beautiful) dimensions. I hope they all go to people who will enjoy wearing them as much as I have.
:: sobs quietly ::
The purple gown is a bit of a mystery to me. I got it in a sale, but I don't remember when. Possibly last millennium. I do have a vague inkling that although I thought it was a tiny bit too small for me at the time, I felt like it was a bargain that had to be snapped up, because it would fit eventually? Ah, I'm rolling my eyes so hard at my past self right now. It's quite a simple dress, with a gorgeous curved V neckline, but you know, I strongly suspect the Cadbury purple colour had a lot to do with the belief that the gown needed to come home with me... It actually fits a little loosely around the hips just now, but because it's such a classic dress there's nowhere to hide my amateur bodice-alteration skills, so it's joining the others in the way of eBay.
Last is the dress I don't really want to sell yet because I managed to alter it so that it sits nicely at my waist and doesn't gape at my bust, and continues to sit without rucking at my hips even with all my taking in. And I did a fantastic job, even though I say so myself - check out the seven inches in total that I took in at the side and the back. Yes, that's right. SEVEN INCHES in total! Those stitches were tiny, even and beautiful. Not that you can actually tell, given that the dress was chucked on the bed to take an impromptu photo. But they are. Those stitches were exemplary!
I don't really want to sell it because it still fits. Just about. It's on the verge of being baggy, and there's no way I'll be able to take it in anywhere else without making it look like some designer wannabe from Project Runway had a massive amount of fabric to use and got way too creative with ruching. It's such a gorgeous dress; bought on eBay (you may be noticing a trend here) from a private seller in the States around 2004, it fit me absolutely perfectly when it arrived. Described as 'apple red' (which I found charming, because if there's any colour I'm used to associating with apples, it's always green) and beautifully beaded at the bodice and at the opening to the faux underskirt at the back, it was a dream to wear. Once. Then I got too big. And then I got smaller again, thought I'd lost out on being able to garb myself in its glory, then discovered that my sewing skills were enough to render it sing-in-able again!
So it's there, hanging on the back of my bedroom door, waiting to be worn before it's too late. But there's more chance of me being able to sell it if I have other dresses for sale at the same time. Such is the nature of the eBay selling beast. And it won't be long (fingers crossed) before it's not a wearable option any more. I just can't quite bring myself to attack it with my seam ripper and give it back its former glory.
FOUR DAYS LATER...
Well, attack it with the seam ripper I did. I figured that as I already knew what colours I was to wear for all concerts until March (a combination of certain ensembles having their own colour scheme; and a couple of other soloists who like to organise what dresses they will wear well in advance of the actual performances and wanted to make sure we didn't clash) and that I hope to lose something in the weight department at least by March (the fates willing), Apple Red will be made redundant. And because it's such a glorious gown I'd like someone else to partake of the joy. I was sad to rip out those threads just the same, even though the dress is now back to it's original (and beautiful) dimensions. I hope they all go to people who will enjoy wearing them as much as I have.
:: sobs quietly ::
