Technically I have now finished two dresses for Kitty and two dresses for Elma. I say “technically” because if we’re being completely honest the first of the dresses which I made for Kitty is in size 12-18 months (I think) and currently sat in Elma’s wardrobe.
But two is two, and girls, if you’re reading this in a few years’ time with all of the indignant feelings of injury to meticulous fairness that best manifest in the early teens, it totally counts.
Given that I had a little falling down in the Oliver + S summer sale then, assuming that the parcel doesn’t get eaten by marauding pigeons, this is not the last dress that I’ll make for either daughter. But it is the latest.
It’s another Oliver + S Music Box pinafore, in view B (just to change it up a little). I bought the fabric when Kitty was a sleepy 10 month old, curled up in the buggy snoozing while I battled my way around the NEC quilt festival, but I obviously know my own procrastination because there was still enough to make a 4T dress, and plenty of scraps to turn up in any quilt that needs a pop of blue or a little poodle. It’s a Robert Kauffman print called Vive La France and it was love at first sight.
We went to Paris for our first wedding anniversary; a long weekend bathed in sunshine and happy memories. We strolled down the Champs Elysees, explored little side streets behind the Louvre, people watched the banks of the Seine from a shady spot on the Bateaux Bus, and sat in a garden, watching the sun set and the lights twinkle out from the Eiffel Tower, as we plotted our future, celebrated our first year, and with a year’s distance providing a sprinkling of humour that was utterly absent at the time, reminisced about the rather inauspicious start to our honeymoon (I had emergency surgery for appendicitis on the fourth day of our marriage, less than 24 hours after we landed in Orlando).
We’ve always planned to go back, and this year I even went as far as getting Elma’s passport on the strength of it but the budget and timing just didn’t quite work out. One day I’ll be able to show the girls all the pretty bits, and I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of takers for Parisien food.
But for this year, and possibly next year if she doesn’t grow too much over the next 12 months, this little dress, and an echo of city window boxes provided by Grandma’s geraniums will have to be my little postcard of France.