![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sewing update
Oct. 12th, 2004 09:01 amI finished the underskirt last night. My goal had been to finish its construction and work on the bodice, and deal with al the internal finishing, making it neat crap at the very last, but the white fabric is so tempermental, that it seemed like going through and doing all the whipstitching now was safer for the long-term life of the garment.
So that's what I did -- total time -- about six hours.
But that said, I have things that are starting to look like a dress.
Tonight I have to do the bodice, which should be a reasonable amount of work to complete in the night's 5 - 7 hours, and ideally will leave me time to pin around the edge of the outer skirt to finish its edges. That I will bring to work with me tomorrow (I'm working the final debate) and work on for a couple of hours between the end of the work day and the start of the debates (at which time I will also watch Lost on our fuzzy TVs).
Thursday is construction day, by the end of which I should have a dress that is in one piece.
Friday is finishing, which means doing the hook and eyes, hemming the botton, neatening up the stuff inside if need be.
I'm on a 10:07am train on Saturday.
This is probably the hardest project I've ever worked on, because it's the first time I've altered a pattern for stylistic reasons, as opposed to the fact that I invariably have to alter patterns to make them fit me. I'm proud that I can sew, and it puzzles me that this is not a skill people continue to posess beyond fixing a button. My mother doesn't sew (although she knits), at least not to construct garments, although her sill at alterations is pretty significant. I learned to sew in school, which is probably vaguely appalling.
At any rate: work, riding, sewing.
Meanwhile, I want to go dancing, but I don't want to go anywhere where I know anyone. Which seems to say no dancing for me. Because I don't want to be nice, I don't want to deal with rude, illiterate assholes aping courtly behavior, and I definitely don't want to deal with a bunch of fuckheads who somehow think their personal sexual narrative means I owe them any sort of deference, fascination or tolerance for their existence. Yeah, for the newbies, there are a lot of stories there.
Oh, hey, I'm supposed to get a paycheck today. Let's see how that goes.
So that's what I did -- total time -- about six hours.
But that said, I have things that are starting to look like a dress.
Tonight I have to do the bodice, which should be a reasonable amount of work to complete in the night's 5 - 7 hours, and ideally will leave me time to pin around the edge of the outer skirt to finish its edges. That I will bring to work with me tomorrow (I'm working the final debate) and work on for a couple of hours between the end of the work day and the start of the debates (at which time I will also watch Lost on our fuzzy TVs).
Thursday is construction day, by the end of which I should have a dress that is in one piece.
Friday is finishing, which means doing the hook and eyes, hemming the botton, neatening up the stuff inside if need be.
I'm on a 10:07am train on Saturday.
This is probably the hardest project I've ever worked on, because it's the first time I've altered a pattern for stylistic reasons, as opposed to the fact that I invariably have to alter patterns to make them fit me. I'm proud that I can sew, and it puzzles me that this is not a skill people continue to posess beyond fixing a button. My mother doesn't sew (although she knits), at least not to construct garments, although her sill at alterations is pretty significant. I learned to sew in school, which is probably vaguely appalling.
At any rate: work, riding, sewing.
Meanwhile, I want to go dancing, but I don't want to go anywhere where I know anyone. Which seems to say no dancing for me. Because I don't want to be nice, I don't want to deal with rude, illiterate assholes aping courtly behavior, and I definitely don't want to deal with a bunch of fuckheads who somehow think their personal sexual narrative means I owe them any sort of deference, fascination or tolerance for their existence. Yeah, for the newbies, there are a lot of stories there.
Oh, hey, I'm supposed to get a paycheck today. Let's see how that goes.
