A Gown’s Journey to the Spotlight
Building the Cheek to Cheek dress for Top Hat
As the final major show of the summer season began, I took a few moments to take it all in. Standing there, putting on my tape measure, tying up my hair back, brushing off my sewing table, I was excited to make one of the most famous dresses in classic movie history, the fabulous Cheek to Cheek dress for our production of Top Hat. This costume was going to be my best work yet. I was tap dancing on the cutting table while laying out the pattern paper and waltzing around the shop with the dress form as I draped her with muslin. Okay, not really. But I might as well have, as I was in heaven for the entire process of it.
From the beginning, I made a promise to myself that I would not let stress be a part of this costume’s creation. This gown was deeply personal to me, and I was determined that no trace of anxiety would be stitched into its seams. It didn’t matter how hectic this production became, from the pattern to the trim, this gown would be made with love and endless affection.
During our meeting, costume designer Tiffany Howard communicated to me she wanted the gown to float and flow effortlessly. Her vision was a gown that draped beautifully when the character was still, but also danced on its own when she spun across the stage. It was a standout moment in the show, and this dress needed to rise to the occasion.
Since we’re theatre and not Hollywood, our budget didn’t include $35,000 for ostrich feathers (thankfully!) to recreate the original. And to be honest, if it did, I probably would have stepped aside for this project and let our first-hand build it. The reason being that while studying fashion design, I learned about the cruelty to animals involved in sourcing feathers, and ever since then, I’ve made a point to avoid using them unless I knew they were ethically sourced.
So, instead of feathers, gathers were the solution. (Pro tip: when working with Tiffany, be ready to make a lot of bias tape and gathers!) The first step was figuring out how much width we needed at the hem to create the perfect flare — enough to make the dress flow but not so much that it became tricky to dance in. Godets were included in the design, but the challenge was figuring out exactly how wide and how high they should be to achieve just the right effect.
My mock-up had one side with more flare than the other, godets sewn in at various heights, and lots of videos of Amara, our first-hand dancing around, spinning, and twirling in the shop testing the design.
About a week later, the fabrics arrived. A beautiful soft pink silk charmeuse, ivory embroidered point mesh, pink stretch mesh for the ruffles, and crystal rhinestone trim. And, as always, once the mock-up was approved and all the changes were made, the next step is cutting.
But first, following the universal golden rule of the sewing studio: measure twice, cut once, I had to make sure there was enough fabric to cut everything on the bias. That meant calculating exactly how many yards my pattern would require, then double-checking that I had enough yardage to make it all work.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough—at least not in the pink charmeuse. So, it had to be cut on the cross-grain. Thankfully, I had more than enough of the ivory mesh for bias cutting. Regardless, the fabric was so light and soft that it would drape beautifully either way.
Then it hit: the cutting anxiety. This time it took a little longer than usual to shake it off. I started spiraling, thinking about how tricky the fabric was going to be and how slippery it gets no matter how many weights you use. I kept replaying past mistakes in my head. The times I had to recut pieces when I was learning, and how I couldn’t afford to recut this time. So I took a break and went to bother the team for a much-needed hype session. Actually, it wasn’t a bother to them. They not only gave me the confidence I needed to cut my pieces but also let me know I needed sewing therapy.
I couldn’t agree more. But moving on, I cut all the pieces. Sixty-six to be exact. Twelve panels for the skirt, four bodice pieces, four cap sleeve pieces, and twelve godets, each cut individually in both outer layer and under layer fabric. I also needed to cut some medium-weight interlining fabric to sew into the bodice and sleeves to help sustain the weight of the skirt.
Afterwards, I laid everything out on the cutting table to give myself a visual of the finished gown (and of course, to admire my cutting work). She was going to be beautiful. I started with the bodice first. The interlining also acted as the lining for the bodice. The only issue I had was getting the ruching evenly distributed at the chest because the layers of the fabric lay thick when sewn together.
Next, I assembled the underskirt up to where the godets would begin, then went back to sew in the godets. All twelve of them. Knowing how time-consuming this would be and how I’d have to do this over again on the outer layer of the skirt, I forced myself to really focus on what I was doing in the moment rather than thinking ahead about how much more was left to do. Because then I would have broken my promise to myself not to freak out, and I would have started freaking out.
Since I needed to make sure everything fit right, I couldn’t attach the bodice to the skirt until after fitting the actor. I also couldn’t connect the outer and under skirts either, in case we needed to make adjustments. So, while waiting, I moved on to working on the gathers. That meant deciding the size and how tight the gathers should be, how many inches of fabric we’d need for that, and whether we had enough fabric on hand.
There were gathers everywhere on this design—along the entire neckline, on each sleeve to create a dramatic shoulder, all around the godet seams, and one big ruffle along the hemline. It was gather math overload. Thankfully, Amara, our shop superhero, was there to save the day. My brain was completely fried by then, and adding one plus one was not something I was capable of doing at that point.
After all that math, it turned out we didn’t have enough fabric. So more had to be ordered. Unfortunately, the original was no longer available, so Tiffany rush ordered another color in a similar fabric. By the time it arrived, the fitting was done, I had assembled most of the dress, and prepped the gathers with the fabric we already had.
My table was covered in gathers. Two to eighteen inches long and about 70 strips. All having to be distributed and sewn into the gown. I began with the sleeves and went in a small downward curve starting at the shoulder. These gathers started at two and a half inches long at the top and gradually increased to four inches at the bottom. For the neckline, they were cinched at the center and sewn along the seamline beginning at the center back, extending to the center front.
The longer gathered strips were then joined with the godets and sewn together to the openings of the outer skirt, finishing the entire overlay. As for the ruffles on the hem of the gown, I used nineteen or twenty strips, roughly thirteen inches long, which would bring the sweep (circumference of a hemline) to about twenty feet. A fact I tried not to think about when I was gathering and sewing it, because then I would have started freaking out.
At last, it was time to add the finishing touch: the trim. As costumers, we all know that’s what truly brings a piece to life. Rhinestone trim was carefully sewn into gathers at the neckline and at the skirt seamline to add a romantic sparkle. The final embellishment at the center bust took several days of brainstorming and was the hardest to decide on. Several options were considered, but none captured the designer’s vision. In the end, as is often the case, it was a random passing thought Tiffany had that turned out to be the perfect choice.
I didn’t get to see the gown in motion until opening night, but when I finally did, I was blown away by how stunning the actress looked in it. She
danced beautifully. As they glided across the stage, the dress gracefully floated and flared outward in perfect timing through the air. It didn’t just follow her movements; it carried her. Vision accomplished!
In theatre costuming, things are always changing, and this costume was no exception. As pieces start coming together, you sometimes realize the fabric doesn’t match the vision, or the color just isn’t quite right. In this case, the pink mesh, which was originally purchased for the hem, was replaced with a bright ivory mesh. Also, the gathers on the skirt were set to start at the top of the godet, but looked strange, so they were shifted to start halfway down instead. Honestly, all brilliant calls by Tiffany.
Ultimately, creating this gorgeous gown wasn’t just the fulfillment of a dream. It was a powerful reminder of how far I’ve come in my craft, in my career, and how much more I am capable of. These fabrics are famously challenging to work with, yet to my surprise, they came together with absolute ease. There's no clear way to measure growth in a creative field, but making this became proof of the countless hours, dedication, and passion I’ve poured into my work. It reminded me not only of the progress I’ve made, but of the skill I now proudly own.
Of course, this gown couldn’t have been made without the expert guidance of Tiffany and without the support of Amara, who not only helped me when my brain checked out but also spent countless hours spinning around in circles in the costume shop just so I could see how the dress moved. And after opening night, you already know I allowed myself to finally have my freak out and ugly cry because, like sewing, that is what I love to do.
