The Opposite of Sewing

Readers, what is the opposite of sewing?  If you said, not sewing, you'd be wrong.  No, my friends, the opposite of sewing is unsewing.  I know, because I unsewed yesterday.  The rose-print gathered skirt of last week is but a memory, six yards of rose-print polished cotton now neatly folded and returned to my stash.



I don't recall who suggested it first, but thank you from the bottom of my seam ripper.  It took less than fifteen minutes and afterward I felt as light as thistle down.

OK, I checked: it was MPB reader "Birdmommy" who suggested I unsew (which she calls "ungather") the skirt.  She also suggested I donate the yardage... to her, I suppose.  Well I'm keeping it!

Seriously, though, thank you, Birdmommy!

Readers, you'll be happy to know that I have picked myself up, dusted myself off, and started all over again -- on something else.  As I may have mentioned, I'm now making Simplicity 4227, the early 50s cocktail dress with matching jacket and perhaps some soutache braid trim as suggested on the pattern envelope as soon as I figure out what that is.

 

If all goes well I will be done by the weekend and maybe I can corral Cathy into a photo shoot, weather permitting.  I've already ironed my pattern and you remember the fabric, which I'm now calling polyester shantung (sounds exotic..well, the last part anyway).



The fabric is bold, no doubt, but I think Cathy can pull it off; the dress itself is quite simple really. 

I think the problem with the rose-print dress, in retrospect, was that that skirt was too gathered.  The difference between Cathy's chest and waist is a mere six inches (five on a bad day); I don't think she can handle that volume even beneath a very tightly cinched belt.  How is she supposed to eat at parties?

Yesterday on Etsy I picked up this vintage Butterick pattern, similar to the Vogue but more sophisticated and without those raglan sleeves.  It had been listed only hours before but I found someone else selling the identical pattern in the same size at half the price.  It pays to do your homework.

As you can see, the skirt, while poofy, is much less voluminous than the dirndl-style skirt on the Vogue with its 18 yards (I exaggerate -- but just a little) of fabric.  Look how this skirt is designed: the front panel of the skirt and the bodice are one piece and it's not belted.  Interesting!

Anyway, we'll see what happens. If I do make Vogue 4018 again, I'll do it in a lightweight black lace, with the bodice (but not the sleeves) and skirt underlined.



In other news, Michael and I were walking the dogs yesterday afternoon when we happened upon this troubling tableau:

Honestly, readers, how does this happen?



I know Superman changed in phone booths but didn't he keep his underwear on?  I hope whatever the person in question changed into was better than the outfit she/he discarded.  Scenes like this are what give New York City a bad name.

Sometimes people leave donated bags of clothes in front of the Salvation Army on Sunday, when it's closed, and other people rifle through them on the street, or just grab the bags, take what they want, and toss the rest.  I'm hoping that's what happened here.

Friends, that's it.  I hope you're up to something fun this week and if you're not, well, check in regularly for a few giggles.

And speaking of giggles, I wanted to mention that the George W. Trippon videos I posted yesterday had been uploaded to YouTube by Pittsburgh-based quilter extraordinaire and filmmaker Shawn Quinlan, who has produced a documentary film about Trippon that he's currently entering in film festivals.  You can learn more about Shawn and his incredible free-motion quilts here.

Happy Monday, everybody!

In memoriam...