Sisterwife Syndrome

One of the things that I struggle with when wearing vintage is what I can only call the frump factor. Maybe you've encountered it yourself - you buy a dress (or skirt or blouse or whatever) that is really cute, great fabric, fits well, but there's just something about it that takes you from modern women who likes the vintage aesthetic to bit player in your community theater production of Oklahoma. Or, as the title might suggest, like you, your husband, his three other wives, and the 12 kids you have between you just got an offer from Lifetime for a reality tv show.

Pose. The hills are alive, bitches. Alive!

And here's what it looks like straight on, no cute posing or anything. This is also what my bitchy resting face looks like straight on.

I got this dress at a clothing swap a couple of months ago, so it was free. There were some issues with it that I just got around to addressing, namely the fact that the bodice was separating from the skirt in several places, and there were some good sized stains that needed to be soaked out. However, it fits really nicely, and it's made of a soft, lightweight cotton, so when it was hot out a couple of days ago I decided it was time to bust it out.

"Are we gonna lose the farm, Pa?" "I just don't know, Sally. I just don't know."

Also, my neighbor is awesome for making this cool wooden sculpture thingy, because now I have something to pose with.

Also, filters are fun. 

I can't decide if this gets into sisterwife territory or just skirts the border a little bit. It's not very fitted through the waist, and the pointed seam at the front of the bodice and the puffed sleeves with the eyelet, um, fins(?) take it in that direction. On the other hand, I grew up in rural Colorado, and I can't say that I mind looking a bit like a Dust Bowl era cowboy's sweetheart.

I've been trying to think of some fixes, but I don't really want to take the sleeves off of another dress, and since this guy has waist ties, not to mention the interesting seaming, I can't really wear a belt with it to define the waist more either. I'm not sure if it's going to stay in my wardrobe, or if I'd like to do a few more repairs and then pass it along to someone who would be really enthusiastic about it. If I had a sewing machine, I might be tempted to just lose the top half and just make it into a high-waisted skirt, but I don't, so...

Any thoughts? What do you usually do with a piece that you like but aren't sure has a place in your wardrobe?

So I've got The Reverend Horton Heat concert tonight, and then I'm going to spend the weekend helping my boyfriend and his brother sell their handmade furniture at the Randolph Street Market, so if you're in Chicago come visit me!