Box Dress with Cloth Story
Driving up the 55 freeway-that’s how we say it here, “the 55”, “the 405”, as though these motor ways are treat destinations in themselves, like “the Louvre” or “the Taj Mahal” or “the Ohio State University” (just kidding)-I can recall the exact location where I could stick my head out the window and actually be able to smell the ocean. We lived about 20 miles and 30 minutes from the beach when I was growing up. The brine would hit just a few miles from the shore as we sped south, and it was something you could taste, laid over the asphalt and the exhaust. My mother always, always overpacked. By the time we hauled our ice chest, towels, umbrella, and various snack bags all the way down the sand, I would bolt straight for the water, an inelegant, skinny legged filly tossing its mane and making a joyous scene at the water’s edge.
Despite the eminent risk and previous experience of severe sunburn, I’d stay in the waves most of the day. My hair would mat at the back and curl around the edges, my lips would become puckered with salt, and my swim suit would sift sand between the layers of fabric until it collected in awkward pockets that would never truly be sand free again. But, those rolling waves, the heartbeat of the earth…you couldn’t pull me away.
Even the years during which I did not love going to the beach, when the care of three small humans made it a bit tedious, the ocean still spoke a language I could hear. I think it’s a rare person who is born and raised so close to the Southern California coast who doesn’t hear it. It’s mysterious, another world, and yet we’re made of the very same stuff, in our tears, in our blood. It’s all the deeply hidden things about ourselves, the Marianas Trench we each carry in our gut, and it’s our brightest, dearest childhood holidays, nostalgia and lifeblood and a power that will always elude our grasp.
I’m a person who dearly loves the symbolic and the nostalgic, which is just the symbolism of memory. I’m not the kind of beach person who wants to decorate with shells, but give me a dress that moves like the ocean and is the perfect shade of green/blue, and I’m in symbolic style heaven. I don’t have a lot in my closet that reflects the California in me, and I wanted something that flows, is maybe just a little tiny bit bohemian, but also simple, classic, and comfortable. And I wanted it in a sustainable fabric.
About six months ago, I made it a personal goal to switch the fabric for the majority of my sewing projects to second hand, thrifted, or dead stock fabric. Making my own clothes has been an important shift in living more sustainably, slowing my consumption and forcing me to define what it is a true need or want. Using what you have is slow fashion, buying from slow fashion makers is slow fashion, buying second hand is slow fashion, buying less frequently is slow fashion, and making your own clothes is slow fashion. Using what I’ve sewn out of second hand fabric could be the slowest of slow fashion.
In my patient search for the perfect floral, coastal inspired, flowy fabric, I was truly fortunate to come across Cloth Story, an online fabric shop based in California. Cloth Story offers a range of fabrics from denim to spandex swimwear fabric, including a selection of floral dead stock. Their focus is on offering the best quality fabrics they can source, whether newly manufactured or dead stock. Even when the fabric is brand new, it will stand up to wear and produce beautiful, wearable, treasured garments that contribute to sustainable sewing by virtue of their quality. This is a kind of intentional practice I can truly get behind. I love working with small businesses, California based businesses, and businesses who prioritize quality. Cloth Story very generously sent me some of their dead stock rayon crepe with which to make the dress that lived in my imagination.
Details
Pattern: The All Well Box Top hacked into a two their dress using the ruffle option
Fabric: Cloth Story Seafoam Green Floral Rayon Crepe Dead Stock fabric, 4.5 yards
Size: I started with a size 8 in the Box Top pattern, then measured the length of the tiers so that the first tier hit at about my knee, and the second tier hit at my ankle
Making Memo
I started with a stand by pattern, The All Well Workshop Box Top. I chose to size up to achieve the loose, flowing fit I was hoping for. The pattern is wonderfully hack-able, with a ruffle top option and a dress option built in. I chose to take the bodice of the cropped version of the top, then add the ruffle portion of the pattern, extending the ruffle so that it reached just above my knees. I then cut pieces for a second gathered tier, calculating the circumference at 150% of the previous tier.
Using such a simple, wonderful pattern as my base made this dress very easy to make. The Box Top is absolutely straightforward, and the fit feels comfortable and flattering on my body shape. Even very limited experience with gathers will enable you to create two tiers. This was truly a a simple piece.
Reflection
One of my favorite things about sewing my own clothes is the ability to make something that I imagined, and adjust it to fit my size and body type for maximum comfort. I loved the way this dress fit me, loose and draped across my shoulders, falling in a long column of swishy, floral goodness. It felt casual and free. I had just enough fabric left, however, to fashion a wide tie belt to give me the option of some waist definition. A long rectangle, about eight inches wide and four feet long, was folded in half length wise, right sides touching, and sewn along the edge with a 1/2” allowance, then turned right side out, ironed, and topstitched to create the curved edge coming to a point at each end. Wrapping the belt around my waist twice and tying it informally at the front gives the dress a dramatically different feel. The more defined waist makes it feel instantly more tailored and feminine, a little less “art teacher” and a little more “garden party”.
By far the best feature of this simple dress, the feature that makes it stand out, is the beautiful fabric. The 3.5 ounce rayon crepe is delicious in its fluidity, and I was able to fashion it into generous tiers that catch every movement and react like waiter.
Making my own clothes is always a meaningful experience for me. When I can make a piece that reflects a part of me I’d like to celebrate, this inner child who feels the compelling influence and beauty of the ocean, the process of creating my own garments is all the more special.
Thank you, again, to Cloth Story for providing me with the gorgeous fabric for this dress. They are on my short list of online fabric shops I look to first when in need of yardage for my next project.
