Dear Crepe (Dress 48)

Dearest Crepe,
You're what I've been looking for for a long time, pure polyester mesh gorgeousness.
Today's dress would be lots of layers of crepe. (one on the top half, three on the borrom in creme.) Underneath is a white leotard- deep scoop back. The two neck bands have plastic reinforcement to hold them straight and evenly spaced.

All my love,

Dear Closing Sale (Dress 47)

Dear Closing-Stationers-Sale,
You're a really nice bunch of guys, selling stationary at stupidly low prices (and I know that sounds like an ad, but I feel like I ripped you off- and I was the one giving you money!) I bought twenty mechanical pen nibs for a dollar. That's nuts. And then I got thinking about calligraphy, and then there was this:

(Dress Specs: White muslin over a white leotard-shape-garment, detailing in ribbons and buttons with painted 'bleed' behind them.)

All my love,

Dear Law Lounge (Dress 45)

Dearest Law Lounge,
The lights on the Law Lounge Ceiling are switched on in a random configuration, sunk into square sockets- it's pretty without being intrusive, I wanted this dress to have patches of warm light (the spots are mesh/see through when lit) without being intensely radiant.

(LEDs in removable round attatchments, cotton and elastic-underdress.)

All my love,

Dear Artaud (Dress 44)

Dear Antonin Artaud,
You really needed a hug, didn't you? That would have done the trick. A good hug and then maybe you wouldn't have written so much crazy (some moments of clarity and cleverness, but honestly, mostly crazy.)
Your life started so idyllic and lovely, and it was pretty much all downhill from there on.
In memory of industrial-era france:

This is; I have to say, one of my favourite dresses so far. Spraypainted double-layers of denim with small washers in the centre, on mesh (which is allowed to bunch and fold between the points of anchorage) with a cotton slip beneath.

All my love,

Dear Olive/r (Dress 43)

Dearest Olive/r,
You're going to be born pretty soon i expect, no more than a month a way for sure- your mum looks like she's going to get pretty sick of lugging you around for so darn long. But I know the next li'l while is going to be insane (good god it already is.) so I thought i'd make you a little something early, and give it to your mum and dad to take into the hospital with them when you decide to make the grande arrival- it's going to be a bunny, of sorts, made from a pattern sourced at Hazlenuts. Having made four bunnies in the last two days, all I can see is rabbit ears swimming infront of my eyes, which may explain this:

Cotton with piping- pieced.

All my love,

Dear High School,

Dear High School,
It's getting to that time of year when (at my old high school) we used to hotly anticipate the end-of term; seeing as Melbourne gets goshdarned cold around now. We used to have our knees nocking in those silly cotton shifts they made us wear, and waiting for the day when we could turn over our uniforms to the loveliness of pleated winter. Whilst there isn't much love in my heart for the silliness of christmas-coloured-skirts; there is particular fodness left for pleating. I think evenly-spaced pleats is wasting their potential.

(Dress specs: Cotton-Wool blend, with each pleat sprayed with a light edging in grey to give them extra definition.)

All my love,

Dearest 'Lost Things' (Dress 41)

Dearest Lost Things,

I would love to print any of the patterns made on the floor (1.50-1.56) in this video onto simple cotton shifts.
Teacups perhaps?

 

All my love,

Dear IsraelPost (Dress 40)

Dear Israeli Postal System,
I bought WAY too many clothes when I was in Israel; which was somewhat of a problem when I realised I had to transport them home. Trusty SeaFreight meant I sent all my winter clothes home, and they promptly arrived this week, just as it started to get coolish. Timing = Win.

Also, surprise amongst the jumpers, was this hat- it doesn't fit, so i'm going to put a triangular 'slice' of some other felt in it, just under the ribbon (which will be revamped to match the wedge)
Therefore, in part in tribute to the gorgeous article on Coco Chanel's apartment (Harpers Bazaar), in part tribute to the wonder that is Israeli op-shops (they havn't realised yet!) in part a celebration of 40days and counting:

The dress is black crushed silk, the hat, a 2D construction of crushed silk and matte satin piping.

All my love,

Dear Red Wheelbarrow Books (Dress 39)

Dearest Red Wheelbarrow Books,
I've never been happier to work than I am amongst the mustyish smell of books. Tomorrow night you become something more than that, from a church of literature, to a (nondenominational) place of happiness when two people get married there. I'll be bartending the reception- and when I was thinking of what I could wear that was both pretty and splatter-safe it seemed inevitable that they become one item of clothing (now with 20% free splatter.)

Dye-washed cotton with a pieced-in black cotton/something stain resistant blend apron. 3D bow fixed at the back, zip down the side.

All my love,

Dear Matthia (Dress 38)

Dearest Matthia,
You used to tutor me in German conversation when I was in high school- you'd come to my house, sit down to tea and a biscuit, and patter away at whatever topic intrigued you- no matter what, you'd always have something interesting to impart, wheather it be about the traditional german mugs we had, and the history of their design, or the politics of teaching in the modern world. Always in German, and always so fascinating that I never realised how much you were teaching me. You had a very precise aesthetic, clean-cut suits and always a silk scarf, a broach, and on the last finger of your left hand, a gold set signet ring in royal blue. The idea of you carrying around the history of your family always mesmerised me, the object's memory of the letters it had sealed when that was all the rage- so when a co-commuter this morning had a similiar ring, more delicately set- It seemed natural.

(Dress specs: heavy linen for the front piece, modeled with corset underlay to hold stiff over the bust area, light cotton (undyed) for the waist/back piece. Resin brooch for the wax seal.)

All my love,

Dear Ballarat (Dress 37)

Dearest Ballarat,
We went on an excursion to see your goldfields once when I was in primary school, and as a representative of the large Chinese population there was a woman folding paper cranes (Doesn't make sense to me either.) The sharp lines have always fascinated me; even though I never remember how to fold the damn things. Maybe i'd have more luck in fabric?

(Dress specs: white and black heavy-weight fabric. Elastic choker with the 'crane head' affixed. )
All my love,

Dear 13-Year old IP (Dress 36)

Dearest 13 Year old IP,
You thought it would be a good idea to paint your ceiling lots of different colours, didn't you. Well you weren't prepared for the angsty bland years of 15yearold mopeydom, or the minimalism-crazy year that followed that, or the antique-minimalist-colour-happy-oversaturated strangeness that remains, were you.
Oh well. It still looks pretty interesting if you don't really focus or have particularly refined taste.
(Dress specs: one piece of dark purple cotton blend for the sleeves-under-bust-curve routine, and scraps into a corset-belt, lavender cotton all the way down. For a picnic or small child's birthday party.)

All my love,

Dear Vitamin E cream (dress 35)

Dear Vitamin E cream,
You're apparently awesome for scars; and since my legs got busted up rather wickedly last december when I went to the dead sea on insanely squelchy sinking mud (now with added scratchy salt crystals) I thought i'd do something about it; and hell knows if it does my legs any good- it certainly makes them feel awesome. Which got me thiking about textures and such, and thence came today's dress:

Not the easiest dress to draw, although i'll admit I botched it up pretty wicked. Something along the lines of either: low viscosity fabric paint sprayed in four layers- first goes from top to bottom, second from top to just below the knee, third from top to mid-thigh, and fourth layer ends at the upper thigh. That; or it's four layers of very faint grey-black mesh.

All my love,

Dearest This is not Hamlet (Food Habits)

Dearest This is not Hamlet,
You're really exciting, and a thrill to be a part of- but you're bridging the gap between what is technically autumn-autumn, but what is in post-climate-change terms, goodbye warmness, hello winter. And that means that now, in preparation for the weight i'm going to be putting on in winter, i have to take off the weight I put on last year. Three winters (travelling) is an error.
So. the plan is as follows:
No more making pastas as a there-is-no-food-in-the-house-and-I-am-hungry option (although there are two pasta recipes that still need to be written up and posted.) Salads will replace as speed-noms.
No more processed sweets. If I havn't made it- I don't deserve it. I just hope this means I end up having the baking skills of Canelle et Vanille or Bakerella. It wouldn't hurt if I learnt to make amazing healthy noms like Smitten Kitchen either...
And no. I should have never looked at either of these sites if I'm going to try and change my eating/cooking habits.
Dress will come later tonight,
All my love,

P.S. I don't know if this is jarring, I know that for the last month or so it's a dress every day and as little actual blogging as I can get away with; because i've been so freaking busy- I'm wondering what you think of this kind of thing- If it's alright by you that I punctuate the blog with the occasional ramble. To be perfectly honest this is just here to ensure that I actually do what I've said I will- but I thought I should spread the word about these three AMAZING cooks/bakers. It does not hurt my design-heart that not only is their food delicious in its composition, but their photography skills are also nothing short of gorgeous.
Anyhow- drop a line to let me know you exist; happy food-ogling.

Dear Mondrian (Dress 34)

Dearest Mondrian,
I meant today's dress to be a subtle tribute- it turned out just kinda silly; but I think it'd be a nice summer staple. Light cotton with white lining.

All my love,

Dearest Melbourne Weather (Dress 33)

Dearest Melbourne Weather,
This week has been good to Imprint-by-ip- we got our first follower; and we finished our first month of dresses. Almost all the dresses are available to vote for- I will be making the dress for March in May, so you have a month to vote. I will be making Dress 17 (Frankie) in preparation for whatever birthday celebrations I might organise- but if I get more than 40 people voting (in total) then I will make whatever dress is voted in. You might notice that I did not put all the dresses up, as between playing Ophelia and University and two jobs I don't think I will be able to perform seamstressmiracles at the same time (which is to say that the dresses left out are WAY over my sewing skills/printmaking abilities/funds availability)

However, while it's been a lovely week for IP, here in Melbourne it's been pretty crazy weatherwise- a real four seasons in a day situation- which means that you have to bring a variety of clothing; and can only venture into the land of sandals and boots in very small windows of time (very middle of summer and winter respectively) it means that jackets must be lightweight (for when you eventually have to carry them) and tee shirts must be of a cut that does not look silly if you wear another shirt over it. It means that umbrellas in interesting prints that are small enough to be reasonably travelable are in high demand (and therefore far too expensive) and that is why:

(Dress specs: Heavy cotton with petticoats to achieve 'bell' effect. comes with soft grey tights, a soft grey long-sleeve shirt, and an umbrella with the design of a sun and blue skies printed on it.)

Dearest Google Books, (Dress 32)

Dearest Google Books,
Now in 3D? WTF?
(Read: you got me. Complete article on google's april fools planks here)
Dress!

All my love,

Dear Lady Cottington C/O Brian Froud (Dress 31)

Dearest Lady Cottington (Care Of: Brian Froud)
I devoured your book as a child, enveloped in the idea of exploration and discovery and (most important; for an eight year old) Fairies.

I'm a little older, and nevertheless, although the fairy phase has been and  gone, and taken with it a host of other childhood obsessions, I always come back to the book- perhaps because of the beautiful calligraphy, more probably it is the stunning watercolours by the genius Brian Froud- their delicacy and blend is simply stunning; and so we have:

Dress for a pressed orchid:

All my love,

 

Dear Pina Bausch

Dearest Pina Bausch,

They talk about you with a kind of reverance I could not understand. Then they showed us this:

To perform in this dress might give the impression that one were even a fifth as electric as this remarkable artist:

(Stretch fabric, white or very pale blue- same colour elastic bands.)

All my love,

Dear Bloom (Dress 29)

Dearest Bloom,

Once upon a time you were a lovely (yet inhumanely expensive) fabric store but several hundred metres from my house, and then came some sort of Mother-of-the-bride crisis, where Greek and Italian ladies no longer went to tailors, or required your exquisite hand-beaded extravagancies, and began buying boring things in satin. with shoulder pads. and the occasional sequin.

In memory of extravagancies, and in the event that I ever use the babillion fabric samples I picked up from the pile left on the nature strip when you closed.

(My post-passover drawing skills do not do justice to the monochrome fading that was meant to occur... Technical specifications: matte silk on a cotton shift.)

All my love,

Dear Modcloth (Dress 28)

Dearest Modcloth,

I wish I did not know you exist, lurking, in the internet space where I could one day spend my money (if I ever had any to speak of) But looking at your (frankly Gorgeous) dresses did give me the idea for today's dress, so thanks... I guess.

All my love

P.S. For some reason formatting has gone kablooie... I will endevor to fix this somehow...

Dear Joan Holloway, (Dress 27)

Dearest Joan Holloway,

An inspiration to curvy gals everywhere not to dress like those stick figures they (rather annoyingly) get to advertise clothing lines inspired by your look....

(via: this is london.co.uk, L-R, Paula Ke, Victoria Beckham and Marks and Spenser.)

All my love,

Dear: Shakers, Alannah Hill, and Kate Winslet (Dresses 24, 25 and 26)

Dear Shakers,
Your strange and secretive sect brought together craftspeople of various inclinations. One of my favourite of the shaker inventions; the bent-wood-box, often finds its way into my designs, less blatantly, or sometimes:

Dear Alannah Hill,

Your new-romantics style influenced roses bag was so crowded- lovely materials, lovely idea, but it seemed a waste; what about the gorgeous subtlety of your dresses perhaps?

Dear Kate Winslet,

All the trash mags are fascinated to rip your personal history apart, which i think is cruel and unnessecary; but it does mean they have rather a lot of pictures of you in the latest 'thing'; regular fabric interset with lace panelling- so i thought i'd have a crack at the new genre...

wish me luck?

All my love,