The Skirt That Isn't

You know that little voice inside your head? The one that says things like "this isn't going to work", or "it's really not going to work", or "why are you still doing this? It isn't going to work..." 

You know that voice?

Why don't we listen to it straight away? Why do we push on and on, until the little voice becomes louder and louder, and then shouts "STOP! IT'S NOT WORKING!"?

I don't know.

So, the skirt is a disaster and I've abandoned it. Finally. But not before much shouting from the little voice and not before this:

Daughter (9): "Mum, everyone is going to see your skirt and think: she's got no taste, then never read your blog again."

Ah, kids. They're a humbling experience.

Of course, the fabric was beautiful and the pattern is a goodie. So what went wrong?

First, I didn't appreciate just how fragile this second-hand sari was. It had a big repair that I noticed immediately, but it wasn't until I laid it out and started cutting into it that I saw several small repairs and a bunch of tiny tears. Oh dear. I carefully tried to cut around them but that meant I couldn't cut it as full as I'd have liked. And, after cutting one piece out, I picked it up and it pretty much ripped to pieces in my hands.

So, in the end I didn't have enough for the skirt and the lining, and I had to use some green lining instead.

Second, I made the mistake of trying to change the pattern so that it was gathered instead of pleated at the front, without thinking it through properly. I should have thought about how the fabric was going (or not going) to fall, and about the shape of my body. My waist, or lack thereof, particularly. 

It was around about then that my dear daughter made her not very complimentary comment. To be fair, she was absolutely right. The gathers stuck out from the waist rather like a 360 degree bustle and gave me the appearance of someone who dresses wholly for comfort. Not quite the look I was going for.

You can imagine how loudly the little voice in my head was shouting by now. But did I listen? No, of course not. Instead, I thought I'd tackle my skirt in the morning and spent the night having bad dreams about it. I woke, almost decided to pack it in, but then rather irrationally changed my mind, deluded that it was salvageable and ploughed on.

The crunch came after I'd carefully joined the lining and the outer fabric together along the front panels and sewed on the waist band. I held it around myself in front of the mirror. It didn't meet at the front ...  The little voice in my head said "told you so" and I pulled it tighter. Nope, there was no way it was going to reach around my waist, not if I wanted to breathe at the same time. No way.

You see, the fabric at the waist had seemed to stretch and stretch. I measured regularly and after worrying that it was going to be too big, I sliced a strip off each side before I sewed the side panels down. That turned out to be a mistake - I needed those inches of fabric.

The beautiful sari skirt is not going to happen. I'll try to figure out another use for it because I can't just throw it away. Who knows, it might end up as a cape in the dressing-up box. It'll likely rip to bits in the first battle.

And, because it's boring showing you pictures of a not quite finished, disaster of a skirt, I've given you a peek at my "corner".  I'm fond of tins and they're useful for holding zips and elastic and other bits and bobs, but I hope you're not disappointed that my space isn't stylishly adorned or terribly pretty. This is the real McCoy, a working corner.

Actually, it's not normally so orderly. I usually get into quite a pickle when working on a project. But, I was overcome with an urgent need to tidy it last weekend after I had to relinquish my big table (it's our outside dining table over the summer) and after Mr Myrtle finished my cotton reel holder. See it at the back? I love it. It's not on the wall yet, just propped up and it'll probably stay that way for ages to be honest. 

My little space is in one corner of our playroom. That's why there's a blackboard (made by my clever Dad) beside me. There's also a sofa, baskets of toys, a bookcase and a little chair in there. Not to mention dolls, pushchairs and a dressing-up basket ... and usually at least a couple of kids ...

But, back to business. After my skirt disaster and some huffing and puffing, I was feeling a little weird. Not to mention a little freaked that I still had no skirt and only a week till the end of the month.

I rummaged under my bed, looked through all the tubs of fabric hiding under there, but unfortunately nothing said "good skirt fabric". So, I hopped online. I knew I wanted a totally different look. Something heavier for a start. This coffee pot fabric leapt out at me.  It's a cotton/linen (so it has some substance) and the colours would work. Coffee pots and psychedelic flowers I thought - hey, why not? And, it was on sale ...

Gracious. You won't miss me coming.