This all started when I tried to find a skirt for my upcoming cruise. I've had a gold, beaded shell hanging in my closet for two years (purchased at a consignment store--I am nothing if not frugal about my formal wear.) But I had nothing to go with that piece. I'd looked everywhere for a chiffony, cocktail skirt to wear with said shell. No go. And it wasn't like I wanted to invest a small fortune in a skirt I might wear once a year.
That's when I got the bright idea to sew a skirt. Genius! The second obstacle occurred when I couldn't find any sheer, shiny fabric. Not to worry! Taking a cue from my boss as work, an avid,
I already had a pattern (or so I thought.) But upon cutting out the tissue pieces I began to have my doubts. I rechecked the measurements the pattern listed for a size 8. Yep, a size 8 should fit fine. So I proceeded to stitch the skirt together. Just to make sure, (before I went to the effort of putting a zipper in,) I tried to fit the skirt around my waist/ hips. "Tried" being the operative word. As I pulled the fabric around my middle, it became clear. Not since the Middle East Peace talks had two sides been so far apart of meeting in the middle. Errrgggghhh!
"Maybe you can just add another panel," hubby suggested.
"I'm not sure I have enough fabric left in the curtain to cut another panel," I replied. But it was worth a shot. So I managed to eek out one more panel from the curtain length and attach it to the rest of the skirt. Since the facing pattern for the top of the skirt was no longer going to fit, I decided to fold the top of the skirt over into an elastic casing. Now my six-gore skirt had become a seven-gore skirt.
It was time to try it on again. I slipped the skirt/cylinder over my head and tugged it down to my hips. And...it fit, like a glove (and not OJ Simpson's glove.) The only problem was getting back out of it which proved a bit like getting out of a wetsuit.
"I think you're going to have to put the zipper in," commented hubby.
When had I married Tim Gunn, the fashion critic? And why had I started this project on a day when he was home? "I don't know if the fabric will hold up to me pulling out a seam," I snarled.
"Well, there's always Velcro," hubby quipped.
The seam ripper is my friend...the seam ripper is my friend. I gingerly removed about seven inches on the back seam and rebasted it. I laid the zipper along the the seam edge and stitched down the first placket. And...the needle hit a straight-pin and snapped. I swear, if I hadn't had a spare needle in my sewing box, the entire project would have ended up in the trash.
I can't even begin to explain how I Macgyvered the waist casing together. Let's just say--it ain't pretty. But I didn't use Velcro. In the end I created a skirt which I may only wear one time. But since I only have $7 (and a whole lot of aggravation) invested in the finished product, who cares? Scarlett O'Hara--eat your heart out!
No comments:
Post a Comment