|The prettiest little straight jacket I've ever made|
Oh for the love of all things printed, would this dress just hurry up and finish itself already? My dozen readers now know the awful origins of this project. But how will it end? With the shreds of this divine Marc Jacobs bow print cotton braided together to make a noose? I'm not quite suicidal over this crazy-making pattern, but close. I love the skirt now and how it co-ordinates with the bodice and this brown leather belt (the new skirt is a cream-coloured corduroy. I cut my own A-line pattern for it to keep it simple after ripping off the hideous and unflattering original skirt). It's a little wrinkly here, and un-hemmed, but you get the idea:
It looks freaking adorable with my newish Dansko sandals. I took the back in a bit, re-shaped the waistline, and the whole thing just fits perfectly now. The only problem is I still can't raise my arms. Like, at all. None of the pattern reviews I read made mention of this bodice's straightjacket-like properties. Perhaps I made an error in construction. Or possibly those ladies prefer standing demurely with their hands clasped behind their backs. I tried it on and thought, "Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad!" It looks amazing, after all. But at that very moment my kid yelled "WATER!!" and I ran to the cupboard for a sippy cup. What followed was so totally awkward, I began to worry about the fact we don't have curtains in our kitchen windows right now. I had to bend sideways at the waist to raise my opposite hand high enough to grab a cup from the cupboard, arm bent at the elbow. If I went out in public in this thing and attempted a similar broken-doll maneuver, my friends would never let me hear the end of it.
UPDATE: Here I am in it (that's how high I can raise my arm. Sad, isn't it?):
So what to do? The bottom half of those amazing folded sleeves will have to go. Such a shame. I really liked that it was a short-sleeve dress and not sleeveless, which it will need to be if I ever hope to wear it out.