I have one dominant memory of Mackinac Island in the Upper Peninsula...bright, white light and lots of class. It might have been because I was a gawky, adolescent last time I visited, but I've always thought that when it comes to lake side cities, Mackinac stands out like a classy, genteel lady amid a crew of industrial workers in a forgotten, more innocent time. With her stately, white hotel and curving bike trails, it's a place where each memory made is timeless.
When I designed this dress, I was pulling from the fuzzy memory of a picture I saw of my mother as a teenager, looking happy and carefree...wearing something I'm sure was made of double ponte knit. The details have faded a bit, but the relaxed smile on her face is what really stayed with me. With the Mackinac Island dress, I wanted to construct a piece that appears deceptively simple and effortless on the surface with detailing that on careful inspection, is more complex and intriguing (because no honest-to-goodness genteel lady would give all her secrets away at a mere glance).
