Born to be a gypsy girl

gypsy girl top and skirt

I gave up Flamenco dancing when I was 7 months pregnant with son. My teacher told me that if there was an ounce of gypsy blood in me I would continue dancing right up until the baby was born. Clearly my o-neg wasn’t cutting it. Lord knows how any amount of footwork is achieved when one is the size of a whale!

Anyhoos, just 4 years of practice and 17 years later there is still undeniable evidence of gypsy in me. Even if I’m not a real one. The dancing, the music, the earrings, the roses . . . the dresses. I think I’m just going to have to grab that bull by the horns and start over again.

gypsy girl dancing

But before I drift back to when I had time on my hands, lets talk about this outfit. It’s not a dress. It’s a top and a skirt. Separates, like!

I literally snatched the fabric out of the hands of the shopkeeper when he showed me some precuts on the counter. Just how hard is it to find border print these days? I knew it was going to be a skirt already but I had enough to make a top and my lightbulb moment was realising I had the perfect pattern in Butterick B4685. I’ve made it a few times before and blogged one of them here. Another version even served to complete Dorothy’s World Book Day costume! But this is the first time I’ve included the flounce on version C. And this fabric was perfect for the job.

Butterick 4685 top

I do have an issue with the fabric though. Mostly I find the shop keepers in the Goldhawk Road honest about the content. At least where they are informed themselves. And some even do an on the spot burn test for me if I ask. But this one (who shall remain nameless) confidently told me it was linen lawn. I had no reason to disagree. After all I’ve never purchased linen lawn before. But it sounded good and most importantly, implied of natural fibre. It is lovely and soft and lightweight. Perfect for keeping gathering bulk to a min. But I got that suspicious sweet smelling odour that hit my nose when I ironed it and felt compelled to do a burn test myself.

gypsy skirt and top back view

Surprise, surprise. Not an ounce of natural fibre to write home about. Well maybe one fibre in a million. It did crumble a bit betwixt forefinger and thumb so not 100 per cent plastic. Gah!! I hate the dishonesty. I probably would have still bought it with a bit of a haggle attached. But why glam it up when its so easily sussed?

I’m not too cross because I’m very happy with the outcome. I’m just cross with the bull****!

gypsy girl in the orchard

So the skirt is just a self-drafted gathered rectangle on a waistband with an invisible zip in the side. Unlined and therefore so quick to run up. Though I did hand-sew the hem because it pleases me!

gypsy skirt and top

Dan took these photos in and around the grounds of Fulham Palace, London. Such a beautiful and understated palace which is openly used as a museum and wedding venue and picnic grounds! The gardens are so immaculately kept. And the perfume from the wisteria was gorgeous!

gypsy style with wisteria

gypsy girl by outhouse

And as has become the norm, we had some more interest from the local residents. Clearly cleaning up from the picnics!

squirrel with a sandwich

And once again outposing me on the log shot! I’m sure Mr O does this on purpose. It had bugs and cobwebs and everything on it. Eeeewwww! Can I just say out loud. I hate sitting on logs!!

gypsy girl on a log

I love this outfit, not only because it brings out my inner gypsy, not even just because I made it  (well that as well!) but because its a style that never goes away. I’m as happy wearing this kind of dress now as I was in the 90s and the 80s and I’m pretty sure there’s photographic evidence of me wearing a dress very similar in the 70s! Or maybe I’m just plain old fashioned. Who knows. Who cares. I’ll make more anyway!!

The Pink Suit by Nicole Mary Kelby

The Pink Suit book

Every single day, without fail, I’m reminded how wonderful it is to be a part of such a wonderful sewing community. So much more than just sewing. Who knew? Only those of us that are part of it will truly understand. And then, and only then, is when one knows exactly what I’m on about!

Opportunities. Chance meetings. True friendship. Support. Experience. Education. Skills. Not to mention a fabulous wardrobe. And so much more. Tantamount to proper therapy!

And did I mention free gifts? No? Probably because I’d sound like I was only in it for the win! Which I’m not, of course, but one never looks a gifthorse in the mouth, right?!

Now back in April, a certain Little Brown horse contacted me to see if I would like an uncorrected bound proof copy of The Pink Suit by Nicole Mary Kelby. Talk about targetting an audience! Er…. like, yes please!!

For those that don’t know, I have freelanced as a designer in the publishing world for more fingers than I can count on which might give the impression that I am well-read. Haha… I wish! I proof read and I skip read and get to read the beginnings of manuscripts but I can not honestly tell you the last time I sat and read a whole real book, all by myself, just for pleasure.

I can’t read as I walk to work. Fear of treading on pigeons or in other unsavoury stuff. My tube journey barely allows enough time to bagsy a seat and get the book out of my bag. After-work hours are filled with schoolwork, catering, chores and some shoe-horned sewing time, obvs. And if I ever attempt to read before bedtime I’ll be asleep before the first para!

But. Given a book with a title like ‘The Pink Suit’. I would make allowances. I would sit in the park in my lunch-half-hour. I would risk taking out a couple of pigeons en route to and from work and I would whip it out at any opportune tube delay or in any waiting room.

I had given up the ghost for a sewing-related book. I’d even considered writing one myself because I couldn’t find any. It could be argued that I didn’t try very hard but that aside and in any case, I am so glad this was my first. And I loved it. Properly loved it. The characters; the setting; the facts and the fiction. For this story is based on the reality surrounding the Pink Suit that was created for the First Lady, Jackie Kennedy by – shock, horror, gasp – an Irish immigrant working from the back room of an American couture house… and not Chanel! That self-same suit that got spattered with the blood of her husband on that fateful day.

You can feel the bouclé, smell it even. You’ll find your self checking your tights for bits of pink fluff and if you’re anything like me, you’ll completely get how obsession and passion runs through every page. And you’ll come to realise that your own passions are far stronger than you think they are.

I’d so love to tell you more but I know how precious and rare this book is for us sewists and I don’t want to ruin your experience.

But what I can tell you is that it wasn’t just a good story. It was a great one in fact. But more than that it was a shed load of inspiration. I drew strength from the main character and worked late into the night on my own projects spurred on by Kate’s enthusiasm. I relished each of the next stitches I made, I refolded and neatened my fabric pile and I planned for future dresses and blouses… and suits!

The only downside to a good book is that it comes to an end. I so didn’t want it to end. I got so sucked in that I felt quite sad as I approached the last pages. First time I’ve ever read a set of acknowledgements too. I was that desperate to hang on to every last word!

I do hope you get as much from this book as I did. And if you do happen to hear of any similar reads, I’d be so grateful to hear from you.

Incidentally, the roses in the photo are care of my lovely milliner friend, Jayne. I popped in to her gallery to ask how she was feeling (she’s been ill for weeks) and yet SHE was the one to give ME the flowers. That’s how lovely she is.