Many years ago, when I first began to sew, I had a dress form to assist me. I don’t remember her precise lineage or even where she came from, but I do recall that she had a gray cloth exterior and a black cloth neck, and that she expanded and contracted by way of wing nuts and sliding metal bars placed inconveniently within her segmented body cavity. She stood at attention on a metal rod screwed into a stand with four metal feet. Something about her construction was not quite stable, and she tended to sway drunkenly at the slightest touch – I always wondered if, when she was not on duty, she indulged in a bit more champagne than was quite good for her. I always referred to the dress form as “her.” It occurred to me that I should give her a name, but I never did.

I was in my early 20s when I acquired my dress form alter ego, and for many years she stood mutely in this hallway or that spare room waiting patiently for me to call her into service.

Sometimes I would catch a sudden glimpse of her when I was roaming the house in the deep hours of the dark night. I swore I saw her swaying, not drunkenly as she did during fitting sessions, but rhythmically, as if she were listening to a spectral kind of music and was about to glide into the steps of a waltz. One evening, to test that theory, I dressed her in an old nylon net petticoat and draped her with a swath of white chiffon – just to see what would happen. Well, I slept very soundly that night so I can’t say for certain what, if anything, transpired. But the next morning, the chiffon lay on the floor at her feet, the petticoat was askew, and I thought I detected a certain air of joie de vivre in her attitude. But no champagne on her breath.

I used her most often for pinning hems, calibrating the set of a sleeve and checking the proper alignment of buttons and buttonholes. I was one of those rare few who seldom had to alter a pattern to fit. And since I rarely gained or lost weight, I never had to expand or contract the dress form once I had set her to my size.

After a while, when I was preoccupied with raising children, writing poetry and teaching myself to write a novel, I began to use the dress form less often.

One day, when I had apparently taken leave of my senses, I decided it was time for the dress form and me to part company. This was in the 1980s when pattern technology was becoming increasingly simplified, and fashion deconstruction was on the horizon. Hems were done by machine, not by hand, and everything fitted so loosely zippers weren’t required. By then, I hadn’t used the dress form in years.

I put the dress form in a yard sale and the last I saw of her, she was riding away in the back seat of a convertible looking like a princess on her way to the palace. I suspect she rather liked going off into a world unknown. I hope she had a good life and a lot of waltzes with a gallant and handsome prince.

But you know how what goes around comes around? Lately, I find myself missing that dress form, and I want another one. If readers know of a good source for a dress form, have one they want to put up for adoption or have seen one swaying tipsily and telling stories about teaching a young woman from Bingham the basics of fitting garments, let me know.

Snippets

. The Southwest Harbor Public Library is sponsoring Ravels and Revels: Extraordinary Knitting on Mount Desert Island Sept. 27-Oct. 1. The weekend retreat, a fundraiser for the library, will give participants the opportunity to work with guest fiber artist and Maine native Cheryl Potter. Potter is an author of needlework books and has written and designed for needlework magazines, including Interweave Knits, Vogue Knitting and Family Circle Easy Knitting.

The retreat is open to 25 participants at a cost ranging from $720 to $950. To make a reservation or to learn more, call organizer Kristin Hutchins at 244-9687.

. To the By Hand reader in Hampden who is seeking a source of embroidery transfers: Dover Publications publishes paperback book collections of embroidery transfers. To request a catalog, write Dover Publications Inc., 31 East 2nd St., Mineola, N.Y. 11501-3582, or contact your local bookstore to check what they have in stock or may order for you. Another option is to try the Linea embroidery pattern stencils. These are modestly priced and available at local craft stores and departments.

. A special thank-you to Mrs. L. Graffam of Waldoboro, who donated 18 knitted squares to the cat mat project. This boosts the mat count to 21.

Ardeana Hamlin may be reached at 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.