Bathrobe for Winter

My late Gramma Helen's birthday is only about a week away. Her presensce must be around or something because at the fabric store this weekend, it occurred to me that I have no winter bathrobe and I really need one.  But what to make it out of?  Fleece?  Warm, but sometimes too warm.  Flannel? Hmm.  It wears well, but it wouldn't be warm enough.  A heavy cotton?  No.  Not warm at all and too stiff.

Then I suddenly remembered the comfiest bathrobes I know are the ones my Gramma Helen always wore.  And they were made out of fake fur.  Incredibly warm, but not overpoweringly so.  And fake fur is very durable.  Her first one was a pretty turquoise blue.  She wore that one to shreds and then started wearing an identical one in red. 

By dumb luck (or maybe it was Gramma working with the Forces of the universe) they happened to have cuddle fur on sale at half-off.  And of the 20 or so prints, the only cute one I found happened to have a blue background with some red ladybugs on it - the two colors of my Gramma's bathrobes.  Coincidence?  Hmm....  Maybe not, since it also had green frogs. 

I bought this unnumbered pattern at a thrift store (which my Gramma totally got me into - Whoa!).  I think it was a freebie given out by a fabric store, although it was uncut. 

I love buying used patterns (when all the pieces are included) because you sometimes see the notes of the person that had the pattern before you.  The previous owner of this pattern included a clipping for a bathrobe idea using velour with a lace overlay.

I don't know about the lace.  But the velour is, indeed, regal ooking.

Anyway, the fleece was a dream to sew on but a pain when I had to rip out mistakes.  Nevertheless, I'm pleased with it.  I did it in a day.  So here's my tribute to my Gramma Helen.

By the way, my Gramma Helen was madder than heck when she found out I bought a sewing machine.  "Why would you want the drudgery of sewing your own clothes?" she'd say. 

And then she'd repeat her story about how her mother, my Great Gramma Jennie, who sewed everything, would always stop her when she came home with a storebought dress and inspect it up and down. 

And then she'd toss it back to my Gramma with a loud "pfft!" of disgust, throw up her hands, and walk away.  Which, funny enough, is the reaction I have to a lot of storebought clothes.  Cheap fabric, poor sewing, no durability - and top dollar prices for stuff I could make so much better at home. 

Like my new Gramma Helen bathrobe.