I KNOW what you're thinking (because you're judgey, aren't you? Plus you've already scrolled past my words to the photo below and are no doubt disgusted by the black stretch crushed velvet hanging on my dress form). But this is not something I plan on wearing. It's a muslin for a top I'm drafting that will be made from one of the amazing printed jerseys I mentioned in my last post (scroll down further if you want to see those too. I have yet to buy them, but a girl can dream — and get ready with a new pattern for when that dream comes true).
Sewing a test garment is the best way to find and correct any mistakes or alterations that need to be made in your pattern. And since my resolution this year is to take more damn care with the things I make, this seemed like a decent way to spend my spare hours this week. Anyway: scoop neck for some cleavage, flutter sleeves to show off my arms, and a goodly length to cover everything else:
It's about time I got back to drafting a pattern of my own — for myself to wear. I just checked and the last thing I designed, drafted and sewed for myself was this chevron-striped jersey dress, made in August — more innocent times around these parts:
I love that dress. And it's so cold in NYC this week, it hurts to look at this photo.
Anyway, the point here is not to show off my Blue Steel face again. The point with the muslin/test garment your see above is this: nearly every test garment I have sewn in the past year has been made with fabric passed down to me from sewers culling their stash. I accept all, and gratefully, for I never have to spend money on muslin when I have significant yardage of ugly fabrics I care little for cutting into. I'm guessing this black, stretch crushed velvet was the remnant from a Halloween costume. Or perhaps from my neighbor's Goth phase. No matter. I don't judge. She was getting rid of it, after all.
It's not hoarding if you do something with it eventually. And you never know when your kid may ask to be a disco witch queen for Halloween.