Man, crazy work week. But somehow, I managed to work in cutting out the muslin from the BWOF pattern I was considering using for the dress I’ll be wearing to my brother’s wedding. Notice the use of past tense… I basted it together yesterday, and it’s kind of a fail on me. I had to cut it as a size 40 to accommodate my hip size, which is slightly larger than my bodice size, so I knew it would hang loose on me.
But this is kind of ridiculous. (Please ignore my messy room in the photos.) It’s a little hard to tell on Donna (my faithful duct-tape covered model dummy), but on me, it has the overall effect of making me look rather flat-chested (which I am certainly not) and hippy (and not in the groovy 60s sort of way).
And while the top is helped somewhat by taking it in (here with the assistance of some clothespins), as you can see here, that has the unfortunate side effect of making the pleats balloon out. As stated before, my hips don’t need the help.
Also, it had the overall effect of looking like a dress that might be good on me…ten years from now. I’m already tripping over the thought of turning 30 in a year and a half…let’s not bump it up a decade, k?
So I am now moving on to plan C, which will be a simple sheath dress from a McCall’s pattern that I already owned and somewhat tested out (sort of… I hacked it up a lot to make it into an empire-waisted shirt, a la Firefly.) Cut out the muslin this afternoon, attempted to make a few adjustments to the darts, we’ll see how it works out. (Hopefully it will, because it’s getting to the point where if I don’t find a pattern that works by, say, the end of this week, I’m going to have to just suck it up and buy a dress. With the wedding 4 weeks from yesterday and 3 jobs going on, I’m running out of time!!)
Oh, speaking of making it work, I’m glad Marshall went home on Project Runway this week. Saying that he was looking for someone to carry him through the challenge was just suicide, and when Heidi comments on not sewing, you know it’s bad. But I really didn’t like Ra’mon’s dress. Sorry.