My new summer make-my-own-clothing obsession is not yet over. Actually, I think it might be leading to a bigger love affair but for now I am not ready to commit. So I'm just enjoying this courtship full of dahlias and date nights and poetry. The engagement might come later. But for now I'm happy for the excitement of it all. The anticipation. The revelations. The promise of what is still to come. Sigh.
This time I challenged myself to think outside the dress. I wanted a grey linen top. And this pile of indigo dyed fabric has been sitting pretty on my desk so I decided to dive in with an indigo binding. Something about the dyed blue next to the linen grey made my heart race in all the right ways. (I know, I know. I'm pushing the envelope with my summer romance analogy but I just can't resist. It's love!)
So I altered the pattern from Sonya Philip's dressmaking class and made the dress pattern slimmer, shorter, and more like a flowing top than a smock. Lucky for me, it worked. And I also pushed myself to make the binding all machine-stitched instead of my usual hand-stitching for top stitches. It also worked. Phew. Add one off-center rectangular pocket and I call it a day. Done.
Now, back to the love affair. But, of course, I want to try a hand at linen pants. (Pants? Gasp.) Or maybe a skirt. Or maybe another dress using my patternless pattern. I've also invested in a few wonderful books to help me along this summer: Stylish Dress Book is so incredibly pretty and ever-inspiring, Design-It-Yourself Clothes is helping to demystify the patternmaking process, and Mend It Better has already darned a pair of my favorite jeans. And if you haven't heard my soapbox pitch about factory fashion, I'll go ahead and repeat myself about the book Overdressed by Elizabeth Cline. This book is THAT good.
Okay, the dahlias asked for a photo of their very own. They were not satisfied just peeking out from the background behind the linen top. Something about being the most magnificent shade of fuchsia and bursting color into the heart of my studio and leaping from the farmer's market stall straight into the back pocket of the little one's stroller. I swear. It's true.