A couple of months ago I needed a dress. Now, I know that there are plenty of wonderful shops here in Copenhagen that I could go to to find the ‘right’ dress for a special occasion. I did indeed spend far longer than I ought to have traipsing round all the vintage stores. Hoping to find something unique and so inherently me that it would almost leap from it’s hanger and onto my being with a grateful sigh, in doing so transport me into the pages of Vogue magazine.
But, it didn’t happen. I am not entirely at one with the heady aroma that seems to settle upon vintage clothing and I find myself using an inordinate amount of anti bacterial hand cream on such trips. Yet I cannot keep myself away in the hope that I will, on occasion, find that special piece. I did indeed find a few things, another habit I need to conquer for a dress does not mean shoes, clutch or anything else but the illusive dress. I also found another dress but decency and a three child cleavage prevented me from acquiring it, although how tempting to step back a decade.
So I gave myself a challenge, make a dress for a very special night out from fabric in the house. I had some shirt fabric I had bought earlier in the year to make something for my husband and a soft grey wool that in a moment of ambition would have made a beautiful jacket, but they had lain untouched ever since reason coupled with sewing ability stepped in.
This is the result, it wasn’t perfect I admit but I class myself as a beginner and hope to practice. The dress was the dress I wore for my hen party just prior to marrying my very own Scandinavian after a very long, eleven year (apparently Scandinavian) courtship.
I think from now on I might try to make many more of my own clothes, maybe one day they will become a vintage find for someone else in need of that especially unique special something.