Tell you what, after making this dress, I think the Greeks were on to something. Soft, roomy, comfy, stylishly wrinkled, togas have got it all! Seriously, if we all just had togas in multiple colors, we’d be set for life.
(Ok, for the nitpickers and fact checkers among us, yes, I am fully and completely aware that the Greek garment was not called a “toga,” but a “chiton.” But nobody talks about “chitons” and half of those who do, probably don’t know how to pronounce it anyways.)
The main difference between this dress and togas is that this is sewn and not just an artfully draped piece of fabric. But the sewing was super easy. Because it is so simple, I was able to put in some nice French seams. This thin cotton lawn is perfect for that treatment.
Now, the girl on the pattern cover seems to have a much more pleated dress than I do.
I don’t know how that happens. Also, she is so fashion forward that she doesn’t even need the little fabric tie to cinch it in. I liked that look. I cannot pull off that look. I realized that, without the fabric tie, I basically just made a purple version of my nightgown. Really, the differences between the two are negligible. Negligible, I said, not negligee.
You may notice that the hem is not straight across — it actually dips a bit lower in the front and back than it does on the sides. The pattern drawing for view A makes it look straight across which is what I wanted because I’m not a big fan of asymmetry (sorry, views B & C). I suppose it’s alright because, in the end, it is symmetrical, just not how I expected.
I wonder what this would look like in a slightly heavier fabric. I may never bother finding out because this is a fabric monster. But hey, if I could add fall/winter/spring togas to this summery one, my wardrobe would be set for the year!
And once again I am fascinated by the incredible pallor of my skin. I live up close to myself so it never really registered. Oh sure, I knew I had pale skin, but man, I am white. Just living up to my name, I guess (Jennifer: Welsh form of Guinevere means “white, soft, smooth.”). And, I suppose given my ancestry, coloring, and the forest background, I’m more akin to some kind of Celtic fairy in this dress than I am to any Greek goddesses. I’ll take that.