Sunday, July 3, 2011

I started the dress and I didn't die. Achievement!

For you Calvin and Hobbes readers out there, this has been my relationship to sewing for most of my life:

One of my earliest memories is of my thumb being impaled on a sewing machine needle because I tried to play with the machine when my Mom wasn't looking. Once I started the derby quilt, I conquered the sewing machine's urge to kill me. Still, clothing eluded me because of that whole third dimension problem. Also, making a functional thing was tough because everything I made tended to fall apart, and let's not get into how unflattering everything I tried to make tended to be because of the "fit" issue.

Still, the dress I have going so far actually kinda sorta fits and kinda sorta looks like it might be kinda sorta good. Observe:

I know, right? I made that and I didn't catch fire or bleed out through wounds in my hands. It's vaguely me-shaped. It has room for boobs. MY boobs, even. I hope that this isn't one of those weird sleep-dep dreams I have where I do all these awesome things and then wake up to find none of them actually done.

Things I learned so far while making this:
• How to sew a curved seam that actually fits my boob
• What those little notches on the edges of patterns actually mean
• That my sewing machine's tension is insanely wrong and needs correcting (Mom? HALP!)
• That I just can't rock this much color. The goth in me just won't die. Sorry Dad.

Next task: make a mountain of bias strips to cover this, because there is no way I'm wearing that much green without looking like a giant walking mint.

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