I'm more about the curtains and the pillows and the sock monkeys than clothes.
But I love fabric so much that I get overly ambitious every time I'm in a fabric store. This weekend, I decided I was going to tackle some of my projects.
So I took some fabric, chose a pattern, and went to work. Cutting, and measuring, and cutting, and then sewing the bodice, which has GASP! lining, and GASP! darts! I make it through.
A major advantage to making my own dress should be that I can sew it to fit me. But I don't really know how to "fit" clothes. More importantly, I've never uses this pattern before. The bodice more or less fits. The darts are a little pointy. I move on. I power through.
Time for the skirt. Easy, done. Attaching the bodice to the skirt requires some adjustment of the pleats. Done. Zipper time!
And by "zipper time!" I mean, "f%&*#$*&(*$# zipper *(R#*($ time." First it required a special trip to the sewing store, where I found it easier than usual to resist the calls of the lovely fabrics. Sewing is hard.
I get home, put in the zipper, try on the dress. Whoa bad fit, this is not going to fly. Plus the zipper is a little wonky. I remove the zipper, remove the skirt from the bodice, make the bodice band shorter, yell at T for making a loud noise, re-attach said skirt to adjusted bodice, re-attached one side of zipper. Then try to re-attach other side of zipper. Rip out, try again. Dangerously close to tears.
Decide to eat a weird organic brown rice stale marshmallow krispy instead of re-trying zipper attachment.
May Laura Ingalls Wilder was right - store bought dresses ARE special.
Current state of dress. Grr.
I got this dress on the interwebs. It required a click. And a credit card. But no frustration. Or satisfaction, which I suppose I will one day get from finishing the zipper installation. From now on, I may stick to skirts. And sock monkeys. And pillows.