Mrs. G is a 92-year-old quilter and sewist of prodigious output and great skill. Her son, my old friend A., recently made the difficult but necessary choice to move Mrs. G out of her home and into a memory care community closer to his house. Because Mrs. G can’t sew anymore, A. passed her huge fabric stash, sewing tools, and personal sewing files on to me. To say I am humbled and grateful is an understatement.
Tucked into one of Mrs. G’s sewing files was a dress pattern, drawn on tracing paper and accompanied by hand-written sewing directions. After studying the pattern pieces and reading the directions about a dozen times, my puzzle mind mapping each step, I started making dresses from some of Mrs. G’s larger cuts of fabric.
Well, I am now totally obsessed! What a fun dress to make, with each one a delightful interplay of color, texture, and print—the possible combinations are truly endless and the sewing process is technical enough to be interesting but not so much as to be daunting. Small details—like the piping on the bodice bib, slit in the back of the neckline, a skirt that be gathered or pleated, and sleeves that can be gathered or left flat—add outsize visual interest to so simple a frock.
This floaty blue number above is a toile, my first pass at the pattern. Though not perfect, it’s wearable, and it helped me quickly figure out how to piece things together, which led me to my next pass at the pattern: the cabana-striped dress with floral sleeves in the photo below.
This one I will wear all summer, with its matching bucket hat (which I made last summer). The fabric—reclaimed vintage curtains in a textured cotton—moves beautifully on the body and will be fun to swing dance in.
I made this red dress from a bolt of Mrs. G’s dead stock bandana print cotton (and, will, of course, make a companion hat cuz I do sometimes like to be matchy-matchy) and a half yard of white cotton with an abstract cloud pattern. The sleeves are currently a bit too stiff still but the whole thing will soften beautifully with some washings (note: I always wash fabrics before making garments).
A couple of days ago, A. invited me to stop by Mrs. G’s house, where he is coming down to the home stretch of the clear out. He had found another smallish trove of sewing files and thought I’d want them. Of course, I dashed right over and dragged a few more boxes home. Later that evening, I made a cup of tea and began poring over the files. And, what did I find, tucked into a zipper bag in the LAST box? The original pattern! It turns out that it was not designed by Mrs. G but by Mary Lou Lange, for The American Quilter, in 1983.
The pattern is cleverly drafted, with multiple sizes nested on one double-sided, oversized piece of heavy printing paper. This explains why Mrs. G drew her size onto tracing paper, as this is the only way to do it without cutting the paper and destroying the nesting. It doesn’t explain why Mrs. G went to the trouble of hand writing out the very detailed instructions when she had the instruction booklet. Some things must remain a mystery!
But another detail I discovered (for better or worse) is that the dress can be made in four views, which exponentiates that aforementioned fun of endless combinations. Aaaand, down the rabbit hole I go once more! I mean it: send help!
Yesterday, I exhausted myself researching The American Quilter, Mary Lou Lange, and the Ultimate T Dress online, but came up short. Though I found some copies of the pattern (and did purchase a back up for $7 plus shipping), I found nothing else about either Ms. Lange or the company who commissioned her.
I did figure out that the pattern is out of print, so for those of you who have asked about whether it’s for sale, I can only direct you to eBay and wish you happy dress making. Let’s keep a treasure like this sweet pattern alive!
xo,
Trish
Great story & great find. Love the dress.
I love the dress😍