Fifties Fair 2010. Kittyhaul!

It was the Fifties Fair today at Rose Seidler house, hurrah!

(I've been playing with the hipstamatic app on my new iPhone, which explains the above photo of the house. If you are into such things you must get it, it's super fun)

Moggy and her Mr J came along; I finally met Livebird and the Curmudgeon; a grand time was had.

I bought a nice scarf:
I couldn't resist these vintage fabrics, frock lengths:
and this is what I wore:
I made this frock last Saturday night while watching the election coverage. The frock was finished on the night, unlike the election. (Moggy has an uncanny knack of making me look like a robot in photos. I don't know how she does it. She's done it before. I honestly don't know what I was doing with my hands here.) Anyway, I used this 1962 pattern (not 50s I know. I'm a rebel):
I didn't have enough fabric for the panel, which is actually sewn all down the front of the frock. Intweeging.

This just in...Fifties Fair Kittyhaul!

The Fifties Fair was today! Yesterday Moggy and I had our traditional Saturday-before-the-Fair festival of fabric shopping to get our mojo limbered up. (oh boy, the mojos got limber! We bought a tonne of fabric. More on that in a later post)

Because today is all about the Fifties Fair!
Here's my haul:
(above) Some of the patterns I bought, along with some nice grey, blue and pink vintage cotton. 1.8 metres, enough for a sunfrock, yay!

... some more patterns, and some vintage floral cotton, which Moggy and I shared as there was about 4.6 metres of it. I don't know what this fabric might become yet.

Enid Gilchrist pattern books. There's some beauties in there. The fabric is another vintage cotton, and I see it becoming a full skirted shirtwaister. With pink buttons.

1950s house plans! Now I won't need an architect once I find that large, wide plot of land with a view, in inner Sydney. There's gotta be heaps of those about. I can just give this booklet to the builder. I've not built a house before, but I think that's how it works. Just give me number 403 or number 188 I'll say. I'm sure it won't be a problem.

(Oh, and if you said hello to me at the fair because you recognised the frock I was wearing, I'm sorry I was such a stunned mullet! My (very) limited social skills escaped me, and I didn't even ask your name! I put it down to not having been recognised for the blog before... *blush* ...and I was rendered almost speechless. Please forgive!)