Finished Projects: From a Frumpy Fail to a Fine Dress Indeed

Last night at Workroom Social's Sewing Swap & Party in New York's East Village, the talented Gingermakes kindly told me she enjoys my tales of parental failure — that it's entertaining (and refreshing?) to get the real dirt on raising a daughter (and sewing for her occasionally) — not the edited-for-maximum-Pinterest-appeal version.

I can relate. As much as I find Pinterest to be a useful tool for bookmarking, it also makes me yearn for a time when the word "tablescape" was not widely used. It makes most of us feel terrible for the fact that our mantles aren't currently decorated with Mason jars stuffed with seasonal flowers, that the light fixture over our dining table is the same one the super installed before we moved in (and not, in fact, made from reclaimed Mason jars), and that our salads are served on boring old plates rather than (you know where this is going) in Mason jars. 

So in the interest of my earnestness cred, I'm sharing with you two finished versions of the same dress pattern: Pattern Runway's Easy Short Sleeved Kimono Dress. But, as you can see, one is what the kids today call an epic fail:

My husband suggested I stand like that, with my hands clasped together, because apparently every other pose was so unflattering....I looked in the mirror. It wasn't the poses that were unflattering; it was the dress.

I am not amused

Two sizes too big (I cut a medium based on what the pattern's measurements suggested) and sewn in the wrong fabric, I look like a full bag of laundry. The pattern suggested shirting as one fabric option, but the stiffness widens me. I mourn the loss of this fabric. It was so nice and clearly should have been used in some other, more appropriate way. The armhole is halfway to my waist. Blergh.

I went back to the Pattern Runway website. I still like their version of the dress. So I sized down to a XS on top and graded out to a medium on the bottom (I also added flare to the skirt because their straight-up-and-down skirt did not fit over my hips nicely at all). I found the perfect fabric at Metro Textile — a striped poly that actually feels like a heavy silk: 

Happy now?

So much better. The armhole is a decent size. The shoulders don't stand at attention like a row of tinted Mason jars just ready to be filled up with your love and homemade yogurt:

And this fabric, I think, actually looks like it wanted to be this dress. 

(Did I manage to fool your eye with my stripe placement? Do I look taller than 5'3"? I made my husband stand on the bed for these photos. No rest for the husbands & boyfriends of sewing bloggers).

The covered button (and my stripe-matching) are pretty great: 

What about you — Have you ever given a pattern a second chance after a first fail? Does Pinterest make you want to smash all the Mason Jars?

Finished Object! Bird-Print "Pussy Bow" Blouse

They said it couldn't be done. (Who are they? The voices in my head, obviously. You guys are supportive. The voices in my head are a bunch of withering bitches).

But here it is: my finished Pussy Bow Blouse by Pattern Runway (available in digital download format for just $9.50 US), sewn from a gorgeous cream-and-purplish-brown bird print silk chiffon from Mood.

I love this fabric: It's feather light, so floaty and delicate. And it feels just amazing, like the light touch of fairy wings.

But such delicate fabric requires a gentle touch — especially with the bird print running crosswise to the grain, which meant cutting all the pattern pieces with the grainline running east-west instead of north-south. If you've ever done this, you would know how shifty fabric like silk chiffon becomes positively rebellious when cut on the crossgrain. Why didn't I notice this in Mood? I know enough to know better. Let's just say I was distracted.

I also didn't buy enough of this fabric because when I was shopping I didn't know what I was going to make with it. A yard and a half seemed like enough for a top or short dress (it was 60 inches wide). But the "pussy bow" on this blouse requires a fair bit of fabric, which is why mine ended up in a matching cream color silk, which I happened to have on hand (a remnant from lining a dress).

I like wearing the tie undone, in a more menswear-inspired style (though it's a touch long to wear it that way; when I make this blouse again, I will shorten the tie by a few inches):

So what did I do to this pattern to make it fit so well? I shortened the sleeves an inch and a half, and shortened it through the waist by an inch and a quarter. But most importantly, I added some flare to the bottom hem to account for the fact that I have wide hips — hips that usually force me to leave the bottom button undone in store-bought shirts. Here's the muslin (see how it's pulling apart at the hips):

I estimated I needed to add about four inches ease to achieve a loose and floaty look. And the best way to add that much to your hem is by spreading it out (add it all at the side seam, for example, and you will create a weird shape like an "A"). So I added two inches to the front and two inches to the back, using two half-inch slash-and-speads on each of the two pattern pieces. It's so easy to do: draw a line from your neckline to the bottom hem using a ruler (just don't pass through any darts on the way). Then cut all the way up to the neckline edge and spread the pieces apart, measuring to ensure you're adding exactly as much ease as you need: 

Each spread measures 1/2-inch at the hem

Then you tape the whole thing down onto a large piece of pattern paper and use your curve to redraw the hemline (matching up all the existing points). Then proceed as normal.

I really love this blouse. I want to make another, but not in chiffon. I don't think I'll be attempting that again. I'll make the next one in a cotton voile maybe. Still, those birds...this would look great with a high-waisted skirt. 

I'll be wearing this blouse out to dinner tonight with the mister. We're going to Cookshop in Chelsea. Pray for me I don't spill anything on it (or if I do, that's it was worth it!).

Sewing For Stress Relief?

I'm relying on the Pussy Bow Blouse to help me cope with some stress this week. Because, I find, obsessing over fit issues and fussy fabric that just wants to go off-grain helps me stave off the panicky feelings creeping in as I get ever closer to Friday.

Here's the fabric: a cream silk chiffon printed with purplish-brown birds

I also keep trying to tell myself that no matter how bad Friday is, it will be a cakewalk compared to getting punched in the face by a crackhead in front of your preschool-aged daughter.

Because Friday I am finally having the minor plastic surgery needed to fix the small deformity left behind by getting punched by in the face by a crackhead in front of my preschool-aged daughter.

And I am nervous. Very nervous. Surgery always carries the risk of infection, and this one also has a chance of not improving my chin at all (or maybe my surgeon just said that to lower my expectations?).  I am also conflicted about undergoing a cosmetic procedure. I talked myself out of it at least 100 times in the past year (including 10 times today), convincing myself for a moment each time that the small deformity on my chin is somehow something to be proud of (I took a punch!) — or that I was vain for wanting to erase it (love thyself as thou art!). A couple of people have told me it's badass (I took a punch, after all!), and my husband claims to not even notice it.

But then I look in the mirror, and my gaze is immediately drawn to my chin, where my scar is so thick it casts a shadow beneath it (actually, my surgeon informed me, it's not even a true scar: the guy punched me in the mouth so hard, my teeth cut clean through my chin under my bottom lip. As it healed, there was not enough tissue structure to keep the top half of my chin from slumping slightly over the bottom half, hence the shadow). No amount of makeup can make it look better — unless I were to apply it with a spackle knife, perhaps.

I'm also conflicted because I have a daughter. She's only four, so we're not at the point yet where I have to work with her against our culture's unreasonable standards of beauty to maintain a healthy self-esteem. She's young enough that she's still enamored with her own reflection, and the only body modification she would ever imagine wanting is wings. At this point it seems best to lead by example: I don't put down my own figure or face in front of her. We talk about exercising for strength and eating well for our health. I would never even muse about making improvements to my self with surgery.

It took me months just to call the surgeon recommended to me by a friend of a friend. And then while I sat in the waiting room for the consultation, I considered leaving. Even now, as I write this, I am contemplating not going through with it. Is it really worth all the trouble? I could still cancel. My husband doesn't even notice it.

Searching for photos to illustrate this post, I'm anxious again. It's so small; in some photos, you can barely tell. If I posted a close-up pic, you would probably tell me, "It's no big deal" (which is not what I want to hear right now, by the way, so I decided against posting any pics). So what is my problem? Maybe I need therapy instead. Or regular massages. I can't afford those, however, so I'll keep working on this blouse. 

Accommodating my wide hips: A slash-and-spread alteration to the Pussy Bow Blouse pattern

Looking in the mirror, I feel entirely justified. You really have to see it in 3D to appreciate it; the scar sticks out so far. And I feel like there's more to it than just the scar. My face looks different since the attack. I look like I'm holding all my anxiety in my jaw, where I was punched. I don't know if getting the scar fixed will help release the physical memory of violence that has me subconsciously steeling my jaw at all times, even in a smile. I'm hoping if I spend less time looking at it, I will be less worried about something so terrible happening again, and maybe I can relax.

Anyway, I liked my face just fine as it was. I never asked for this. I didn't deserve to get punched in the face (nobody does). Why should I have to live with it, no matter how small? 

My blood pressure spikes every time I think about it. They better give me some good downers or I may just jump off the chair. I've considered asking friends for spare anxiety meds. I hope I can make it through the week without freaking out completely. Yesterday I sewed a collar to cope. Today I'll work on the sleeves if I get anxious:

At the rate I am going, I should have this blouse sewn by the big day. (But I think I'll save modeling it until after the bandage comes off!).

Has sewing ever helped you get through a stressful time? Or do you end up mangling a project out of distraction?

Pussy Bow Blouse Muslin

What kind of name is "Pussy Bow Blouse" anyway? (I'm guessing it's something the British made up to make us North Americans nervous. Kind of like how Aussies feel about our "Fanny packs.")

Either way, I am so far loving Pattern Runway's Pussy Bow Blouse pattern, which I bought to make a blouse from some lovely bird-printed silk I found at Mood last weekend. (Over lunch after our shopping trip, the lovely Oona had suggested I check out Pattern Runway's stuff, and this blouse pattern happened to be pretty much what I was looking for.) I LOVE that the seam allowances are 3/8 inch on Pattern Runway patterns. Trimming the excessive 5/8-inch seam allowances on commercial patterns bothers me to no end.

Oona told me Pattern Runway patterns tend to be long in the waist (which I am not), so I thought making a muslin was a must. (Plus the intended silk cost $14/yard, so I didn't want to waste it on an ill-fitting top).

I cut a straight medium from some poly chiffon I had on hand (it's similar in weight and feel to the bird-print silk), and as I expected it's a little tight through the hips on me. I got my husband to take a few quick photos to illustrate that point, and my sidekick insisted on appearing in every single one:

I'm lazy, so I only sewed in one sleeve:

See how the side seam is pulling to the back? I'll need to shift the side seam and do some slashing and spreading to add a little flare to both front and back. As far as construction goes this sews up like any other collared shirt. It's pretty easy if you're familiar with sewing menswear:

I couldn't take any more of the clinging-on, so I stepped aside and let Lucy have the photoshoot to herself:

So that's what I worked in the few spare minutes I had this weekend. Pattern Runway: check it out!