Ahoi, Sea Witch. She is a worthy vessel, clearly, with a curly-headed crew. I love the light blue sail that disrupts the red, navy and white paradigm. I love the little red flag that waves faintly from the back of the ship, and how the striped sail fills with the wind. I love how the top mast extends almost to the waist. But above all, the name of this boat is the Sea Witch. It just doesn't get better than that.

At first blush I thought this was an Alfred Shaheen print. He has a number of red white and blue nautical dresses and skirts, such as this one pictured below, available from Etsy seller Tractordog.


















And another Shaheen print, this time a skirt. I saved the photo, but I don't think I have posted it previously. Unfortunately, I no longer have the name of the seller, as I always give people credit for their marvelous finds and photography, but these photos are from ages ago. So, I am breaking my own rules here and digging these out of my file for greater Shaheen appreciation.















I have a weakness for all things nautical. Last summer was officially my nautical summer. It involved boater hats, several actual boat rides and finally finishing Moby Dick, which turned out to be a rollicking read.

This summer it is all about Spain. Flamenco dancing, tapas and Don Quixote. Yes, Don Quixote. Again. I attempted it first back in 2008, and I didn't get very far, I made the mistake of getting bogged down in too much commentary. And sadly, my Spanish is not what it once was so I am reading slowly. I plan to dine at the El Quijote Restaurant to celebrate when I am done. The El Quijote on 23rd Street, festooned with images of the book's hero, is one of these New York time machines. Go through its doors and you emerge in the mid-1960s. Many of these untouched and unrenovated New York institutions are closing, so I worry that if I linger too long over my reading, El Quijote will no longer be around to see me prevail and serve me a lobster.

I've seen a number of windmill prints, usually of the Dutch variety, and I have a crypto Don Quixote print: red and white with smeary windmills, churches and a figure on horseback. I call it my Don Quixote dress, but I am taking liberties with the title.

Here is a real Don Quixote dress, and what looks like a Spanish souvenir print. I thought I had posted this one long ago, searching through my archives I couldn't find it. Again, I no longer have the name of the seller, as this was in my file from years ago. I do sometimes save pictures of dresses I like but couldn't buy (either they were too small, or I was outbid). It is a bad habit, perhaps, but I get a bang out of just looking at them. I thought I had written about the Don Quixote Dress before at great length, but alas, no. I wish I could link to its seller, as it is a delight. Never before and never again have I seen a Don Quixote print like this. Please enjoy.

Be an explorer in your very own Captain Cook trousers. Oh, the places you'll go in these wide-leg, high-waisted, pants (about a smallish-medium) that include photo print images of Captain Cook's portrait, ships, sepia-toned hand-written documents (including lists of stuff like hard tack), and possibly an etching of the Captain meeting his demise in Hawai'i. This print does not hold back. There are large close-ups of compasses and sextants, breadfruit, hand-drawn maps, and paintings of supposed Pacific Islander revels. Bidding ends in mere hours so hop to it.

These pants would be fun to wear if you feel like you don't get out enough, or you want to start a Mutiny on the Bounty, or when you dream of the open seas. These pants might even be enough ocean for you. Enough to keep you from wandering the streets barely able to restrain yourself from knocking people's hats off like Ishmael at the beginning of Moby Dick. And this light polyester is versatile. You could wear these pants to work with a blue and white striped shirt t-shirt, for nautical overload. Or you would work the Polynesian feeling and pair them with a coconut shell bra, or a tapa cloth halter top for a night at your favorite Tiki bar. You could muster up an 18th century vibe by pairing them with a puffy, ruffled, white shirt, or perhaps a pale corset and powered wig. One of those trendy admiral style jackets with lots of buttons could keep it looking very British navy, and very uniform official for work. A pair of espidrilles, a bikini top and a bandana on your head would turn heads at the boat basin. Truly, these pants could be the backbone of a summer wardrobe. Why not yours?

Would'nt it be great if there was a functional compass on these pants somewhere. Maybe you could wear a compass as a necklace.

I would play ukulele on the docks in these. I'd wear them with a powdered wig to Return of Rococo party. I'd wear them to a sailing lesson on the Hudson River. Though honestly, I don't know what kind of response I'd get if I wore these to a Hawaiian national sovereignty meeting.

Goslings, just when I think I've seen it all, especially when it comes to photo prints on polyester, some beauty comes along and shakes up my world. This is the first time I've seen a photo print on polyester devoted to a single historical person.

I hope you are out there doing summery things this summer.

This wavy ocean dress has already been snapped up by some lucky person. But it haunts me, so I had to keep a photo, and post and write a bit about it. The seller is Advintageous on etsy, and there are many other lovely things to see at the shop. Like this delicious powder blue turn table.

There are so many things to love about this dress. First is the very nice reworking of Hokusai's The Great Wave off Kanagawa, denuded of its tiny boats, reduced to its stronger lines and turned into a repeat print. Next, the use of color is truly fetching. Referencing the use of indigo dye in Japanese noren (fabric room dividers, often used in shop doorways), the royal blue and white really pop. Then there are the slits in the 3/4 sleeves and the long A-line skirt. Not to mention that I have an obsession with Hokusai in general, and this woodblock color print in particular. I can't think of what could have possibly kept me from buying this one, except perhaps the fact that I cannot fit another thing in my closet. (And that's after I removed about 2 huge trash bags worth of evening wear that must be sold.) Then there was the fact that it was a rather long dress in terms of inches of fabric, better to be enjoyed by a tall woman than cut down for my Liliputian height.

I am a sucker for anything aquatic. And this dress does it all. Shells and seaweed (or is that coral?), and aqua background, and a draped front split at the feet to trail behind you like tendrils. A hostess with the mostest dress for sure.

Too long on me, alas. The ebayer says the lot of dresses she has available are all from the same owner. She was a party girl because there's a whole stable of hostess dresses available with Hawaiian motifs, eye-scalding patterns, and beautiful faux Grecian drapery. Whoever the previous owner was, I'm sure she was lots of fun. Probably smoked cigarettes with a holder and called everyone darling, mostly because she was better at faces than names. I imagine her hobbies like scuba-diving, esperanto and blackjack. Maybe she liked to get her hands dirty at a pottery wheel, or play the harpsicord, something to surprize the neighbors. She had an analyst, of course, along with an astrologer and a psychic to help her make the really difficult decisions like whether or not to do over her boudoir in red silk. But she'd quote Schopenhauer or Mao in casual conversations so you knew she wasn't all icing and no cake. She was quick with a joke or a valium when you were feeling down. You could always stop by the back door of her avocado-colored kitchen and coffee klastch for hours. And she threw theme parties with cheese fondue and flambéed hors d'oeuvres. I imaigne she probably had a philandering husband but didn't care since she was too busy with love affairs of her own, darling.

And everyone was always talking about her. That Mrs. So-and-So, they'd say, you just never know what she will do. Maybe all my ideas about her were just the rumors they created. Maybe she was shy and pliant, uncompromising only in her love for eye-catching evening wear. But somehow I think she had to be as fun as her clothes.