You’re welcome for that ear worm. (And yes, I know the lyrics are ‘when doves cry’ but you don’t see any tears in this print do you? I hope not. I tried to wash them all out and cut around them. *sniffle*)
This fabric is easily the most difficult fabric I’ve ever dealt with. It was like cutting sand. Silky shifty sand. I ended up having to whip out the rotary cutter and a self-healing mat to make things easier. It kind of did. I only had to fiddle with it to make it flat. And then again after putting the pattern piece on. Pins were my best friends.
Fortunately, the pattern drafting was straight forward. It’s a simple v-neck with plenty of ease and no defined waist. The sleeves were a different story, however. It’s probably the weirdest sleeve sloper I’ve had the privilege of drawing up. I didn’t want the sleeve to just be flowy. I wanted it to billow out at the back of the elbow; a of shape reminiscent of dogale sleeves but not as long.
90% of the seams are French seams which was a nice change from the usual and the v-neck edges/hem have tiny rolled hems.
And after that is when I gave up. It could have had something to do with me cutting and partially sewing this dress within a week of moving but I did fold each piece very carefully and pin all the way through them with a label before they were packed away. However I think it was just the nature of the fabric that did me in.
Before this, I had no prior experience to working with sheer fabric, let alone a fabric as slippery as this. Sure there was that silky satin I used for my prom skirt but that turned out just fine. In a sewing space smaller and way more cramped than the one I cut and attempted to sew this dress in no less. So I’m not entirely sure what happened.
But every seamstress must have a failure. And it’s what she learns from the failure that is the most important. I’m thankful for the experience and maybe, when I can muster the courage, I will break this fabric out of it’s plastic bag and try again.