Generally when I remake something, I have fairly positive results. I'm not saying I'm wildly talented, I'm just saying I have low standards. :) Ok, to be fair, I've produced some major cuteness, and so when something goes awry, I get cranky about it. Still, the only way to learn is to do and possibly fail, so I'm sharing my current project with you.
This project started with a dress I bought on Zulily that taught me two things:
1) fast fashion for plus size women is a disaster waiting to happen, thus
2) buying nonreturnable clothes on the internet is a really dumb thing to do.
[here is where I would have inserted a before photo if I'd thought ahead and took one; I know this is my first project here, but I've been doing this a while and should know better. sigh. next time!]
Now, don't get me wrong, I've had some massive wins with Zulily when it comes to toys or kid's clothes, but just-- if you see what looks like a good deal on clothes for your adult self, don't do it. This was supposed to be an adorable yellow gauze summer dress in a 3X-- it was a sack. It fit, yes, sort of in that I could put it on my body and headtilt in confusion at the mirror whilst doing so, but the bodice was... an unrecognizable mess, the straps were about a foot too long and the underskirt was more like a bodycon slip. Oh. dear. And no way to send it back! :( Fortunately, it had only cost me $15. Unfortunately, I now had a completely useless yellow sack that went into the fabric bin... until my baby girl (we'll call her Darth Cute) found it and was infatuated with it.
And then I found this. Oh yes. Leftover from the skirt on my first bellydancing costume. PERFECT:
Except for how it's a satin business, which is scary but that's cool because I'm invincible, right? Right. Also, I have interfacing. At any rate, I figured it shouldn't take too long-- I've found in the past that these 'easy' patterns are generally super quick.
Now, I took up using patterns because I wanted to learn how bodices worked, and how seams turned invisible, and they've been an invaluable tool in furthering my clothing chaos. I set about my mad science with fervor and took apart the skirt and the underskirt, cut out the dress parts such that I had ready-made hems (FAVORITE bit of restyling skirts), cut out the yoke and the interfacing, fused the fussy things then assembled the dress and arm holes.
Then came the bit I'm going to call "McCalls Thinks People that Make Easy Patterns Can Be Taught To Speak In Tongues". Step 12 for attaching the yoke is in English and has a picture attached, but I have no bloody clue what they want me to do. I've read it over and over, I've read it out loud, I've re-sketched the diagrams, and I got nothin'. So I pinned the yoke on and then... did stuff to attach it according to the instructions. It went... err, alright. Then step 12 tried to happen. What. The. Hell. I Googled "Easing in the Fullness" and hit so many posts that asked me to ease the fullness for sleeves that I sort of figured out what it meant without being able to intelligently explain it until I ran across a Burda page that discusses it in terms that made total sense. Turns out that 'easing in the fullness' is the official name for the technique we all use to do things like hem a flared skirt or set in a sleeve, where you end up having to carefully get those extra roundy bits into a seam without making it look puckered and cheap. Fine. I took another crack at it but I still am honestly unsure that I've got the second half attached they way they wanted me to, since the shoulders are doing something crazy and even ironed, the attachment to the bottom of the interfaced side looks funny. Still, Darth Cute will love it imperfections and all, so I've decided to handstitch that and call it good, and hopefully fix some of the weird stitches that happened.
Thus having decided to bust out my delicious vintage war needles, I held it up to behold my handiwork... and found that the armholes were silly large, even if you imagine it as a jumper over a long sleeve shirt. Honestly, these armholes would have fit both arms through, so I pulled them in a jot and that part at least worked out spectacularly. Finally! Something that looks like a gauzy, swingy, quirky summer dress!
Darth Cute is a tall girl that just turned two, and is wearing a 2T just right and a 3T a little loose (depending on who makes it, which my friends, is a tale for another time), so I cut this to a 3T. So, for next post:
1) handstitch the yoke and fix some of those ratty sleeve seams
2) photograph it on my model
3) Give a cost/time/lessons learned roundup
Alas, this episode is a cliffhanger. But progress!


