Here's a new style of dress, a short ballet skirt. I can make them from any book pages, so if you ever want custom work, just get in touch.

The bodice is molded and the skirt is made from three layers, tulle, a cupcake wrapper and a folded overskirt made of text.

Each is one of a kind and decorated individually with a custom mini hanger.

I'm making a bunch of these beautiful miniature flapper dresses from the pages of The Great Gatsby in time for the Small Works Show this weekend in Cushing, ME coinciding with the statewide Maine Craft Weekend.

Each is a one-of-a-kind tiny dress with fringe and other decorations: each comes with a custom hanger.

This little flapper dress was made from a vintage F. Scott Fitzgerald short story: Bernice Bobs Her Hair.

And some more....

I'm busy making fairies, literary dresses and miniature scenes for an upcoming Small Works Show that I'll be in this Saturday, October 5. Here are a few of the fairies that will be hanging at this show.

Beach Rose fairy with pink wash on bodice and lichen skirt.

A Tree Shifter made from birch, lichen, moss, fungi and washed with green watercolor.

A fall fairy

The Fuin Fairy comes out this time of year: She is a symbol of the end of summer. Here she is resting on hydrangea.

Here she is without filter.

Her applique is made of rose petal, petals of cornflower and a sprig of green.

Her skirt is made of chenille and sprigs of green.

I'm making more of these, which will soon be taken to Brambles, the shop in Belfast that carries my fairy dresses.

As we approach the Autumn Equinox, there has been a lot of activity in the woods. The Wee Folk have been gathering all season. Here's one spotted taking a rest.

Her dress is yellow and pale green to blend in with the still green ferns with a yellow applique.

I bought these flowers at the United Farmer's Market of Belfast at one of the farm stands.

The grass sash and dress underskirt accents are called Explosion Grass, which I got from a florist in Blue Hill.

Stitched up the back with pale green thread.

There, in the early morning light, one was spotted on rain-dampened ferns.

Her skirt is perfumed by the rose petals gathered by the sea and the adornments are dried bramble and flowers; she is the sweetest smelling fairy, long after the flowers have gone by. She is a close ally to the Merrow, the sea fairies who communicate with their counterparts on land. 

The fairies are like everyone else: they love a new spring wardrobe. Here are a bunch of teeny fairy and literary altered book dresses (all individually made and one of a kind) that I just brought to Brambles in Belfast. They are $25 each and come with a custom hanger and backstory on my website.

I'm going to England in a few days to the countryside for the first time. I made a couple of Pixies as a tribute.

From Mythology.Net"Take a walk along England’s beautiful southern coast and you may be charmed by more than just pretty wildflowers, mystical stone rings, and the blue, blue ocean. Pixies also roam the countryside, and if you happen to have a pretty scrap of ribbon or a clever verse of poetry for them, they might just invite you to join in with one of their giddy dances or send you along your way with a blessing over your head."

"....they do love fine things, and they will seize upon any gift of beautiful clothing that is offered to them."

And here's the other one I made: with dried flowers and birch bark.

Adorned with delicate buds and dried rose petals. They smell so sweet!

All of these spring fairy dresses will soon be available at Brambles in Belfast.

Here is my latest Edna St. Vincent Millay dress

This one of a kind dress is made from this sonnet:

“She had a horror he would die at night.
And sometimes when the light began to fade
She could not keep from noticing how white
The birches looked — and then she would be afraid,
Even with a lamp, to go about the house
And lock the windows; and as night wore on
Toward morning, if a dog howled, or a mouse
Squeaked in the floor, long after it was gone
Her flesh would sit awry on her. By day
She would forget somewhat, and it would seem
A silly thing to go with just this dream
And get a neighbor to come at night and stay.
But it would strike her sometimes, making tea:
_She had kept that kettle boiling all night long, for company._”
― Edna St. Vincent Millay

This is Camden, Maine, where Millay grew up.