“Ooooh… modest!” was the first catcall this dress elicited from my man.

Can’t say that’s one I’d heard before. I imagine it might be the kind of thing one gets when out too late on the mean streets of Salt Lake City.

The high neck, the colour and texture do give the dress a kind of “burlap haute couture look” or “wartime factory elegance”. And I don’t suppose my prairie girl single braid helps.

Well, too bad boys. I keeps the goods under wraps.

I’ve worn this dress out with my new pair of Birkenstocks, a brand of sandal I used to wear a bunch but hadn’t owned in many years. What I had forgotten about Birks is that the profile of the sole mimics my high arches in such a way that they suction together as I walk.  In other words, my steps are punctuated by timid little fart noises.

“Pfft. Pfft. Pfft…” whisper my feet as I stroll.

So, yes, I’m the modestly dressed, perpetually gassy gal. That’s me.

• Pattern: Vogue 8805
• Size: 14, b cup
• Fabric: Army green linen-viscose blend, same as piped pants
• Notes: I somehow sewed one dart about an inch too deep, ending directly on the apex of the bust. I realized this as I sat at my desk at work. Like any sewing mistake I spot while out in the world (or any sartorial error for that matter – shirts inside out, mismatched socks), I was left feeling unreasonably embarrassed by the discovery. I took to carrying items in front of my chest and keeping my arms folded at all other times, lest someone notice my ever so slightly lopsided darts. No one did, of course, and the fact is no one ever would. But I knew the mistake was there. I could feel it burning a hole through my skin. I solved the matter later that night by extending the other dart as far. One mistake is an eyesore. Two symmetrical mistakes are a choice.