“How Far I’ll Go…”

     “See the line where the sky meets the sea?  It calls me. 

          What’s beyond that line?  Will I cross that line?

               If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me, one day I’ll know…”

     -lyrics from the song “How Far I’ll Go”

I might have my personal favorite princesses, but in our house, Disney’s 2016 “Moana” is an all-around favorite of all of us, especially my son.  The movie is an excellent example of Polynesian lore and culture, besides having Moana herself be an all-around exemplary, relatable 16-year-old human, even for all the legendary situations she is placed in.  I love that Moana has her family there for her throughout the film, which is unique for Disney (which tends to kill off the mom figure), and that she is searching for her own identity, not a love interest.  It has songs that are catchier than the best classic 90’s Disney tunes with amazing visuals that are an absolute treat.  It contains my husband’s favorite Disney song – “You’re Welcome” – and was my son’s first in-person movie theatre experience.  “Moana” is also the only Disney animated princess movie I cry to every single time we re-watch it again and again!  It is fitting that my last summer season sewing is something related to the princess Moana.

Of course I had to interpret this specific inspiration with a play set for my latest and greatest installment in my “Pandemic Princess” blog series!  There wasn’t a better decade for the cutest play sets than the 1940s, in my opinion.  Besides, with all the American soldiers (and their families in some instances) stationed at many of the Pacific islands during and after WWII, Polynesian culture heavily influenced the warm weather and playtime fashions for women of that decade. 

I had a head start on the 3-pieces which constitute a play set by wearing my pleated, skirt-style 40’s shorts, which I sewed years back as the base for another play set (posted here), to match with my newly made Moana novelty printed blouse.  The rich blue to the shorts reminds me of the ocean…and I enjoy being able to still be wear my older creations, after all.  Then the jumper, which is newly made and can be worn over both pieces, also matches with the blouse as it peeks out from underneath.  It creates a suddenly dressy tone to the fun time duo.  The brown linen jumper was custom dyed by me, and calls to my mind both Moana’s dark hair and the natural fibers that many ethnic Polynesian clothes are made of.

My accessories are especially coordinating this time.  I have a toy plush version of Moana’s sidekick the rooster Hei Hei to keep me company.  He might not be the best help on Moana’s boat (see this hilarious movie clip) but together with the pig Pua (shown on my blouse) complete her ‘conventional’ Princess ‘requirements’.  This Hei Hei toy was a present from my mother-in-law and can walk and “scream” by battery power.  I also have a large conch shell with me – it was acquired by hubby’s Grandmother in the 1960s or earlier.  It is a beautiful pink inside just like the ones the ocean gave Moana as a baby (see this movie clip – it’s so sweet). 

Now to the rest of my accessories, like my handmade ones! My belt is a multicolored novelty jute ‘ribbon’ which I originally made into a belt to match with this dress (post here) but works fantastically to brighten up the solid brown of the jumper.  Even my sea-inspired hair clip was me-made, too.  I started with a cheap $1 store basic hair item then glued on wooden themed charms of a sea horse, starfish, shell, and a fish that I bought from my local fabric store.  I love my self-made items which complete my outfits!  Finally my amazingly comfy shoes (the “Elinor” lace up ballerina pumps) are from the great brand Miss L Fire, which is sadly going out of business in the next week or two.  All together I felt fantastic in my outfit and also ready for whatever comes my way.  Oh ‘how far I’ll go’ for the perfect dream outfit…

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a heavyweight all-linen for the jumper and an all-cotton Disney brand Moana character print for the blouse

PATTERN:  McCall #5607, year 1944, a vintage original pattern from my stash

NOTIONS NEEDED:  lots of thread, vintage buttons from the inherited stash of both my Grandmother and my husband’s Grandmother, vintage hem tape, vintage bias binding, and some interfacing

TIME TO COMPLETE:  The jumper took me about 8 to 10 hours to make and was finished September, 25, 2021.  The blouse came afterwards, being finished on September 27, and was made in only 4 hours.

THE INSIDES:  all cleanly finished thanks to vintage bindings on hand

TOTAL COST:  1 ½ yards of the Moana cotton bought at Jo Ann Fabric store cost me about $12; the fabric for the jumper was linen I had on hand longer than I can remember so I’m counting it as free.  The dye for the linen cost $3 something dollars.  All other notions were on hand from my stash so I’m counting them as free, too.  My total cost for this outfit was about $15.

This overall project started out as an experiment.  I had this lovely bright orange, almost neon, soft and supple linen that was my ideal fabric but in a wrong tone for the jumper to match with the Moana print fabric.  I had an overall 3 ½ yard cut of the material, and only needed just over 2 yards.  Thus, I cut out the pattern pieces for the jumper and saved the rest leftover for my upcoming “Part Two” Moana-inspired outfit.  Then, those jumper pieces were partially sewn together (darts, pleats, and all secondary seams), and the front buttonholes were marked with thread, so they could be cooked in a bath of RIT brand liquid dark brown dye. 

I actually had absolutely no idea what tone I would end up with, but expected a burnt orange.  Any way the dye job would have turned out, I was ready to be happy with it as long as it remotely matched the Moana blouse fabric and became a different color.  I think that since my fabric was a natural linen (which takes well to dye), and I chose a dark brown versus just a natural brown, I ended up with this lovely rich and opaque nut color.  I wanted a jumper which would carry me beyond this particular outfit and be versatile going into fall, but overall become an all-season piece.  This jumper as it turned out is not what I expected but just what I wanted.  It was a planned surprise.  Dyeing is always so very interesting and fun, but always a gamble.

Other than the dye job, this jumper was easy to come together.  Part of the joy to it was how much like sewing through butter was the linen I was using.  Also, though, it has been too long since I’ve used a true vintage printed McCall’s pattern – they’re my favorite.  I appreciate the general predictability of how well they fit me out of the envelope and their details are understatedly fantastic.  The waistband panel – an incorporated ‘belt’ – was eliminated for my version of the jumper because I am both short-waisted and wanted to cut down on the blousiness of the style.  Otherwise, I sewed this jumper just as it is shown on the envelope, not counting grading up in size.  The deep cut armholes are great to show off the blouse underneath and keep the jumper from being confining.  The way the bust darts radiate from the sleeve openings is my favorite unexpected detail.  I went the extra mile to do only hand-stitching finishing touches so no thread is visible besides for the buttonholes.

My blouse was super easy and straightforward as shirts go.  It has menswear details, no doubt added just to keep a smooth profile for layering under the jumper.  Many 1940s blouses have some gathers or shirring somewhere, normally across the shoulders (to add bust fullness) or the back.  This blouse has the conventional separate shoulder panel across the bodice upper back, but with masculine-style pleats for reach room below that.  The front relies on a giant bust dart set into the shoulder down to shape the bust, then there’s a small below-the-waist tiny pleats to fit the hips.  Even this collar is rather on the tame side as 1940s collars go and I like it.  The shoulders are nice and smooth, too.  These features all help this blouse seem a bit more timeless than dated, more than many other 40’s blouses do.  I will definitely coming back to this top pattern to sew a dressy, solid colored version in the future. 

Even if you don’t know Moana or have not yet seen her movie, I hope you enjoyed my new play set with our beach themed photos and find yourself inspired by what I have said about our family favorite princess.  At a basic level, it is just an outfit inspired by a girl whose enthralling story revolves around what she will do out of her love for both home and family.  Whatever her culture, that is a universally admirable quality…but especially for a 16 year old heroine like Moana! 

My outfit respectfully avoids any cultural interpretation, and instead focuses on the predominant colors of the animated tale, vintage clothing for ‘fun in the sun’ by the water, and my personal fangirl manifestation.  With the blouse, the skirt, and my old favorite shorts all in one set, it has been a fun but still practical project to complete.  Out of all my other “Pandemic Princess” inspired garments, this one is perhaps my most natural or ‘organic’ interpretation.

I for one am not into logo tees or character tops unless it is for Agent Carter, Wonder Woman, or as a concert souvenir.  For Moana to be included in that category for me should tell you something big!  Please do yourself a favor and see the animated film “Moana” if you haven’t done so already…and if you have, let me know what your favorite scene was!  I have so many, it is hard to pick anything other than every minute of the movie.  I am so super hyped to have an outfit that embodies this special Polynesian princess.  Many Pacific Islands are an underrated and underrepresented part (if only a satellite affiliation) of the United States, after all!

Face Value

Yes, this is a cliché phrase but oh-so-appropriate for this post’s project.  You can’t judge a book by its cover, so the saying goes.  Well, even a line drawing to a garment design, heck – even the finished garment itself – can hide construction secrets…I’m specifically talking about the good and wonderful kind.  This jumper is definitely a case in point!

It’s made of a warm and soft common flannel made to look like a much fancier woolen suiting, with pockets and a front closure that are really not workable, and a back zipper that you can’t tell is really there (that’s why they’re called invisible, duh).  This garment carries a vintage vibe yet is a very modern release.  The pattern itself is called a deceiving “Waistcoat Bodice Dress” to designate that it is a jumper made to look like a dress that has a vest-style top half.  You’d never guess how I finished the inside, either.  Confused much?  All you really need to know is that I love this make!  It came together wonderfully, is freaking cute, and is crazy cozy for chilly weather.  It really brings a jumper to another level, and makes the most of its on-point details.

This was made as my last 2018 “Burda Challenge” make for the month of December.  I know, I’m running late to post it on my blog, but better late than not at all!  I HAD to make this Burda “Jumper Dress” after seeing their version paired up with the vintage 1963 ruffled neck “Beatnik Blouse” which I had made in November.  However, the jumper has such great wardrobe potential for me that it matches up to almost every other winter blouse I have, especially the Burda scrunched neck Turtleneck.  I paired it in these pictures with an older RTW blouse which I felt brings out the 1970s vibes that the jumper has…besides, it is more paisley and it brings out the turquoise in my outfit (one of my favorite colors!).  I am wearing my Grandma’s vintage 70’s drop earrings, and some modern T-strap wedges to match.

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  a 100% cotton flannel printed with a navy, tweed-like, imitation texture pattern; fully lined in both cotton and polyester…reasons explained down later

PATTERN:  Burda Style #109 “Waistcoat Bodice Dress” from August 2018

NOTIONS:  All I needed to complete this was luckily on hand – thread, a bit of interfacing, cotton and polyester lining remnants, an invisible zipper, and true vintage buttons from the inherited stash of hubby’s Grandmother

TIME TO COMPLETE:  This was whipped up in about 8 hours and finished on January 5, 2019

THE INSIDES:  Full lining means smooth insides with nary a seam showing…I love it!

TOTAL COST:  The flannel was found at JoAnn, and it was on sale on top of a coupon, so with the free scraps I had on hand for the lining, this cost about $15 or less.

Now, as for any Burda Style pattern, printing and/or tracing is necessary to have a usable pattern to lay on your desired fabric.  My pattern was traced from the inserts in the magazine issue, but most other patterns are available online as a downloaded PDF that needs to be printed out and assembled together.  What works best for me is to use a roll of thin, see-through medical paper to trace my pieces out.  It’s at this preliminary step that you pick out your proper size.  Some people add in your choice of seam allowance width directly to the pattern while some as they are cutting out the fabric pieces.  A scissor with a magnetic ruler guide helps immensely to quicken along the step to getting a finished pattern prepped.  Sorry to repeat something you might already know, but this is just an “FYI” for those that don’t.

When tracing it out and doing the cutting, I realized the individual pattern pieces themselves seemed quite small and easy to work with.  I was almost doubtful that they would turn out a garment which would actually fit a normal human body.  But, yes – it did turn out beautifully without any confusion or problems.  The sizing was right on, and it came together rather quickly…I actually spent just as much (maybe more) time on the finishing touches.  The fabric appears so dressy and I wanted to keep up the sham by taking the extra time to invisibly hand-stitch all the edges together, even on the pocket flaps, as well as the inner linings.

The only tiny thing that I did change to this was the button placement.  I felt that three buttons down the front mock closure is overkill, while free-flapping pocket flaps are weird without buttons.  The buttons that were in my stash on hand which I did like for the jumper were only four in number anyway.  I wasn’t only justifying what I had on hand, though!  If you’re going to make part of the ‘dress’ look real, do it all the way.

Flannel is one of those “sticky” fabrics (like corduroy) that need a lining to hang gracefully or have the proper body, especially if one plans to wear more winter layers under them.  I find that the more flannel gets washed it loosens up and changes shape, and I didn’t want that to happen to this jumper…at least the top half of the body.  This, I lined the waistband and above in an all-cotton broadcloth which also sticks to the flannel, keeping it in its original shape, besides feeling sturdy and warm.  I did iron a 3 inch width of interfacing to the wrong side of the flannel all around the entire neckline before sewing together to also help keep the flannel in check.  However, for the skirt portion I chose a silky buff finish polyester.  The skirt is slim and cut on the bias so it has a lovely body-hugging shape that is slimming.  Choosing a poly to line the skirt keep it flowing and cling free when I wear tights or even pants under this jumper.  As the skirts (lining and flannel) are cut on the bias, I have left the hems unfinished and raw.  The bias keeps them from fraying so they are good as they are with no hem confining the shape there!

I had been saving this projects flannel for a vintage winter shirtdress, complete with faux leather accents as I had imagined.  However, a jumper is a more versatile in between the choice of wearing either separates or a dress, and – as I said at the top of this post – this Burda one is so smart!  It really lets the blouse underneath still shine (most jumpers don’t do that) by having an open front bodice that is shaped so well by panels and darts it actually stays in place nicely over one’s curves while being so open in styling.  I’m such a sucker for clothes that are chic enough you forget to realize they are both cozy and comfy at the same time.  Things are not what they seem at first view when you sew…especially when you’re talking about something off of my machine tables!  Tell me about a sewing project of yours that has some great surprises to it!

Oktoberfest “Black Forest” Dirndl

As a girl of strong Germanic heritage – and as a lover of vintage fashion – an old-fashioned ethnic outfit to celebrate Oktoberfest has long been on my to-make list, and is now, finally, a reality!  Here’s my year 1942 dirndl. Even though the pattern I used called for this to be a dress, I made two separates for ultimate mix-and-matchability, so I can wear each on its own in the future or change up my dirndl in the future. This is something I am so happy with…it tuned out every bit as wonderful as I imagined.  Prost!

I was inspired by the traditional late 30’s/40’s “Black Forest Maiden” when making this.  The “Black Forest” is a very ancient, forested, mountainous region in southwest Germany.  It was already named in Roman times.  The cultural dress and traditions of this region are likewise very old, and the rich dirndl customs associated with it have been around for the last several centuries.  

Dirndls are an established manner of local dressing, an organic means of freely expressing cultural identity, for Bavaria, Austria, Germany, Switzerland, and more. Thus, I find it so sad that dirndls became twisted by Hitler before and during WWII. They were a mode of dressing used to suppress and subjugate women nationally in the late 30s and early 40s.  As a girl with very German roots I recognize that interpreting a dirndl via 1942 can painful. However, this is an outfit I made to honor a woman with a story I will never forget.

At a WWII reenactment two years ago, I met a wonderful, friendly, and knowledgeable man with a thick German accent. As we chatted, I seemed to bring to mind something for him by wearing my vintage garb, and he proceeded to tell me I reminded him of his mother. My vintage 1940s outfit was similar to the way she dressed when she moved to France with him after the war. You see, she was 11 or 12 when Hitler started his invasions, and the local Nazi Youth Movement chose her as the town’s “Black Forest Maiden” since she had the “perfect” body, hair and eye color as designated by their twisted idealism. Terrified and crying, she was forced to lead the town’s parades, forced to wear the traditional folkwear they chose, and be their “mascot” with her official photo. When I was shown that woman’s picture from back then, in her beautiful dirndl vest, with her stereotypical ‘Gretchen’ braids, I noticed a great sadness in her eyes despite that ‘perfect’ smile – her image is burned in my memory. And you think image crafting and body shaming is hardcore today…!  All the advancements that women of central Europe had been fighting for during the 20 years of the Inter-War period (and they were many) were threatened by the Nazi Idea of the model German woman.

I had no idea before hearing his emotional maternal story that a “Black Forest Maiden” was so strongly imposed on women and young girls who happened to fit the “faultless” Aryan mold. It must’ve been like living out a punishment – as if the way we are made is by choice!  We have been incessantly fed a need to change one’s own inherent individual beauty for ages, though not to this degree.  I have read that blond hair dye was extremely popular (and encouraged) back then for the brunettes, while posters and publications pressured a certain living ideal, too. Anyone can read and research about this topic all they want, but there is nothing like a first-hand account from those who lived through those times to get the real stories of the past.  Luckily, I can choose to wear what I want today, and be happy celebrating my heritage the way I choose, but making a 1940s dirndl reminds that was not always the case.

All of what I have said above in the last few paragraphs is why I did not too strongly adhere to the “Black Forest” ideal with my set as you see it worn to the public Oktoberfest.  American Oktoberfests that I have attended in my lifetime are not always culturally correct or properly respectful of their heritage.  To wear a paled down version of an authentic dirndl as I am makes me the oddball of the occasion.  Yet, I am still more traditionally correct than the popular “bar maid” version of a dirndl costume, with its off-the-shoulder under blouse, cleavage revealing bodice, and short skimpy skirt.  Keep in mind my Oktoberfest outfit is also a strictly 40’s interpretation, which because of the date to it (1942), would not have too strong of a Germanic influence due to both Hitler’s actions and because of where the Allied nations were at in the war.

However, at home I did accessorize my dirndl in a way that would make it truer to the Black Forest tradition.  I am wearing a trio of collar, apron, and earrings which are true vintage, with the traditional silver lasso necklace, and a full black skirt for a complete change of appearance.  My blouse is the design that came with my dirndl pattern, made by me out of a sheer white chiffon.  It is something very special for me to be able to respectfully embrace a tradition of my heritage through my own interpretation, adding my own memories and provenance to a garment whose history is frequently either painful or forgotten!

THE FACTS:

FABRIC:  all fabrics are authentic to a vintage dirndl of the times – cotton broadcloth for the skirt with a ribbed cotton velveteen for the vest exterior, interlined in an open weave, medium weight canvas cotton interfacing, lined in solid black basic broadcloth

PATTERN:  Simplicity #4230, year 1942, from my personal collection of patterns

NOTIONS:  I only wanted to use supplies that were on hand already, and all I absolutely needed to buy new was the front zipper!

TIME TO COMPLETE:  It took me about 20 hours to complete and was finished on October 13, 2018.

TOTAL COST:  As everything I used had been on hand in my stash for at least a few years (yay for whittling down my hoard of fabric), and (knowing me) I probably got it all on a good discounted price anyway, I’m counting this outfit as free!

I had the best surprise as I opened up the dirndl jumper pattern, the kind which don’t come that often (and I believe I have seen and opened up a lot of vintage patterns in my life).  This particular one is in top tier condition.  It was still factory folded inside, no discoloring, smell, or brittleness and the trailing floral embroidery transfers were miraculously as pristine as the day they were made – never used and still shiny and waxy, beaded up on the tissue paper strips.  I always see transfer papers either missing, used already, or the ink dry and crumbly.  Needless to say, I really have no intention of actually using them as iron-on transfers, but it is neat and rather tempting knowing they are there and fully usable!  Perhaps once my commitment to full scale embroidery is more guaranteed in the future, I might make a copy of these transfers and try the design, but I would have to start such a project two seasons ahead at my rate and I have enough going on in my life to convince me otherwise.

For the bodice ‘vest’, I chose a novelty ribbed velveteen – thick, sturdy, and lovely to touch. It was fully lined and fully interfaced with sew-in stiff cotton muslin so it would end up almost like a corset, or at least a very substantial jacket weight.  The top half of a dirndl is called a bodice, not a corset, even if it may have very distant origins to them. It is supposed to be a substantial weight to keep its own shape, be sturdy without boning, and not be a substitute to a bra or corset. They were meant to be long wearing enough to endure and be possibly passed down to the next generation if fancy enough! After all, though, lining a garment is always such a nice and easy way for both a professional finish and a clean way to finish all your edges and hide all your seams!  It was chilly the day of our town’s Oktoberfest, so my vest kept my entire middle so warm I needed no coat.

As I am a married woman, I have no obvious red trimming (meant for single ladies) and my vest is primarily black.  There is a separating front zipper, matching in black, wedged in the middle to close the front of my dirndl vest.  Happily it is not very noticeable at all.  A laced up front is more of the Bavarian-Alpine variety of dirndl, and a Black Forest version is ‘plainer’ than that, often having buttons down the front and/or applied embroidery. As zippers were the latest and greatest fashion edge in the late 30’s, I wanted this traditional-influenced dirndl to follow suit.  Besides, a simple closing accommodated the fancy trim I planned on using.

The braided trim is complex and dramatic, perfect for a dirndl where your haberdashery cannot be too fancy or your details too scrumptious.  It is a Simplicity brand roll that I had bought on deep discount years ago.  It is something so novelty that I had no clear idea of what to use it on at the time, but as something like this is hard to come by – and normally expensive – I had to have it.  I’m glad I did, because it was meant for this dirndl…the 4 feet on the roll was exactly the length needed to go completely around the front and neckline edge.  Even an inch less would have not worked.  It is a cotton rayon blend of a white satin soutache-style rope braided with multiple strands of twisted black rope which reminds me of what is on decorator’s tassels.  As much as I wanted a quick and easy way to attach the trim down, I put up with hand-stitching it down for a precise placement with threads unseen.  I am in amazement at how this special trim made my dirndl vest so easily go above basic. 

My skirt is self-drafted of a 40’s reproduction print.  The color is not as green as I would have liked, but neither is it solidly turquoise.  Whatever the tone, happily my skirt is very much a copy of the skirt and apron colors worn in the West German movie “The Black Forest Girl”, made in 1950.  The story for this movie is based on the operetta “Schwarzwaldmädel” by Leon Jessel, who died in the same year as my dirndl pattern – 1942. A married woman was allowed shades of green for her skirt besides black.

It’s merely your basic gathered skirt, and for a good amount of pouf I brought in just over twice my waist length into a very nice, 1 ½ inch wide, lightly interfaced waistband.  In order to use the whole of my fabric with minimal cutting, I hand-stitched down a 12 inch hem to shape some fullness into the skirt, weigh it down, and keep it opaque.  There is a true vintage metal zipper in the side for an old-fashioned touch.  It should definitely be a great basic wardrobe staple during the spring and summer worn on its own with a tee or blouse apart from this dirndl.  I hope to make another skirt like this one, using a completely different print and material, to see how that changes the overall feel of my Germanic outfit.

This is the family heirloom apron from the side of the family which came over from Germany.

An apron is a must with a dirndl!  The white apron I am wearing is a handcrafted fine cotton one that my mom had ordered from a vintage reproduction company, so it is not of my own making, but the details are just what I would want to pair with my outfit.  There is crocheted lace and both pintucks and ½ pleats for more texture and interest to the outfit.  The apron I had on for the Oktoberfest event is a very wearable new version that reminds me of the apron I would have preferred to wear (but wouldn’t dare take out) – my Great-Great Grandmother’s apron handmade apron from circa 1870-1890 (pictured at left).  This family history treasure was made while on a boat, immigrating to the United States, and the fine details are mind-blowing.  Just studying it is improving my sewing skills by prompting me to practice imitating such tiny, regular feather-stitching on other items.

I did intend on wearing the dirndl vest’s matching underblouse just like the cover shows, but I ran out of time to finish it completely for this weekend.  You can see the post of the blouse’s making here, where it is worn by itself with some 40’s style pants.  Instead, I wore a fine linen blouse already in my wardrobe, one that has lovely floral-and-vine shadow work along the neckline, visible above the sweetheart neckline of my dirndl vest if you look closely.  The earrings are vintage from my Grandmother (on my father’s side).

There is heavy German influence on all sides of my family, and around the last turn of the century they had immigrated over (before the First World War, when eight million German-Americans comprised this country’s largest non-English speaking group).  This was at a time when being a “Hyphenated American” was paramount to asking for the finger of suspicion to come to you.  Yet, during the First World War, when Ellis Island immigration was high, about 20 percent of all Americans who answered the call to arms were foreign born.  Quick assimilation was important to “Hyphenated Americans” for both their safety and because of their likelihood for a successful new start.

Even still, our families have not forgotten our past heritage over the last 100 plus years.  My dad has memories of going to Oktoberfest celebrations as a child in his little Lederhosen, and his Grandfather – who operated his own bakery for many years – always had stollen cake and coffee on hand to enjoy with him every Sunday after church.  My husband’s paternal side had originally settled in an immigrant city that has German still on the tombstones and street signs.  Conversely, our relatives did their part for America fighting against the Reich in both wars.  The German influence that still surrounds me in the Mid-Western United States where I live is all good stuff – stately, impressive churches, strong homes made to last, delicious and hearty food, creative micro-breweries, beautiful winery vineyards, and happy, down-to-earth, hard-working people.  I’m now asking myself why did I not make a dirndl earlier than now?!