Well. Y’all had some excellent suggestions on getting the sewjo mojo back, many of which I implemented to get this dress past the “folded up and staring accusingly at me” stage. In fact, there were so many great ideas I’ll be doing a little credited wrap up on le blog later, a mojo-maker, if you will. (Oh now come on, if that isn’t a cocktail waiting to be made I don’t know what is. Must get Ruggy on that.)
Speaking of Ruggy, my reluctant photographer was unavailable this weekend, so I had to go all self-timer on these shots. Wanting some natural light, I turned to that old standby, the alley of my building. You don’t go teetering around Manhattan by yourself and expect your camera perched several feet away to remain where you intended. or expect to be left alone in a snazzy getup like this.
Speaking of get ups. This is one of Victory Pattern’s latest releases, the nicola dress. I LOVE THIS PATTERN. the pattern itself is as beautiful as the story behind it. It’s a deliciously forgiving wrap dress, with six darts at bodice front, two in the back, and simple tucks on the skirt portion. If, say, you happened to grade from a 6 to an 8 at hips, and really should have cut a straight 8, well then, you could just rip a dart n’ a tuck out and give yourself a little more wiggle room. But of course one could avoid that problem by MAKING A MUSLIN.
If I’m not going to get behind a muslin when I’m working with fabric like this, I’m truly never going to get behind it. but I did tissue-fit the pattern (read: hold it up to myself and call it good) and tried it on multiple times during the process. The carnival spiral staircase in our apartment got a workout on this ride, our one full length mirror being below ground.
Speaking of below ground. At this point, I’m glancing up the alleyway stairwell at four men getting ready to move many large pieces of furniture directly onto my camera.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand in I go. Had to get a last shot of the back for you, I’m in love with it (and no, not just because I am a cheerleader for my badonaka booty). Behold: no center back seam! Mount Crackatoa doesn’t stand a chance! Smooth as a baby’s bottom. You’ll forgive the pun.
So for the precious yardage: I knew this fabric was not going to be a stroll in the park, but I fell in love with it immediately. In a previous post, I dubbed it burnout velvet, but I think it’s a laser cut. I think. I really should listen more, because the lovely peeps at Mood LA certainly told me what it was. Sheer as a moth’s wing. Little furry velvet patches flecked with gold. My floors look like three hundred fairies went crazy with sparkly dust.
I cut the fabric on my twenty dollar Ikea low-pile carpet to keep it from shifting around, magazines holding it in place. Look, when you don’t have fancy pattern weights, you do what you gotta. There were a few wonky cuts I had to deal with on the large skirt panels, but as it turned out I tapered the skirt in anyways. This does not bode well for me, as really I need to just get some good pattern weights. I don’t need any more encouragement in the “do it wrong and make it right” department.
But I’m learning. Just a few months ago I would have made this jammie up out of the sheer fashion fabric only, and thrown a slip on under it. In fact I struggled with that decision here. Taking the time to do it right, instead of do it quick, is something I have to constantly pummel myself into. I think that years of buying cheaply made, inexpensive RTW produces a need for immediate gratification. Why go for quick now, when I have control of the wheel? I may want to cut a dress Saturday morning and have it ready by happy hour, but I’m always happier with the outcome when I take a more leisurely drive.
Sunday driver Oona won, and I decided to underline it with a satin I had in my stash. But I did forgo a lining, since I didn’t want to add any more bulk. Instead I serged the seams in a complimentary shade. Sleeves were left sheer, with a gold open weave ribbon as sleeve binding. The bodice is attached to skirt at waist, snap closures. I considered upping my Sunday drive with buttonholes… but I’m a belt girl anyway.
(and I do believe I will always be race car Oona in the case of buttonholes. But hey, I’ve been wrong before.)
How ’bout you? Speed racer, or sightseer?