Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Over My Head

I woke up with an overwhelming urge to create this morning.  Great! I thought as I rolled out of bed, I can channel this creativity into writing!  So I went out to get breakfast and my coffee, sat down at my computer, opened my current novel, and . . . nothing.  I drank my coffee, ate my bagel, even put on my Pandora station (with In Tenebris, Within Temptation, Evanescence and Delain) to try to get myself into the mood.  But all I could think about was the medieval clothes that I had been researching the night before (do you know the difference between a surcoat and cotehardie?  I do.).

Apparently, my writing can wait.  I have an urge to make doll clothes instead.

I mean, how hard can it be?

When I was an overflowingly creative teenager, my mom and I used to go to a little store that always had severely marked down goods.  They had china dolls, and I went through phase where every time we went, I would buy a doll, since they were only $5.   I bought three of these pretty little ladies, dowdy clothes and all.

Esperanza and Jean.

It was never in the vision to keep them as the dowdy little girls that they are.  I was writing a short story series inspired by fairy tales, and they were to represent the strong, regal women who rocked in those tales.  I began a collection of remnant fabrics in order that some day I might be able to get patterns in order to make them the clothes they deserve.

The blue really brings out Esperanza's eyes.
Noble cloth for Jean.  Aaah, the colors!






















These lovely ladies were staying at my mother's house. I ran over to grab them and the fabric; she advised me to get a practice remnant of fabric, since most patterns are made for American Girl dolls, who are much beefier than my china dolls.  Brilliant, thanks Mom!  I happily ran to Jo-Ann Fabrics and found an awesome pattern.


Simplicity number 1134, pattern B.  Also includes fairy garb, in case I ever want to make them into glorious faeries or dress them up for Halloween instead.  There's a pattern for a cape, wings, and three dresses.  Hooray!

I skipped home, ecstatic.  Finally, my poor nekkid dolls would have their regal clothes.  Then all I would need to do is get some wire to wrap them a crown or a tiara or something.  Super creative, gave me something to do with my hands, and I would feel productive, because this project had been put on hold for a long time.

I don't have a sewing machine, but I've hand-sewn before, and I figured I could at least hand-sew the practice dress, figure out how to take it in, and then use my mom's sewing machine when it came time to make the real dresses.

Then I opened the pattern sleeve and pulled out the super delicate pattern.

Let me back up a scooch; I am no stranger to patterns.  My mom has been sewing for longer than I have been alive (she says since she was twelve, so that's what. . . forty-three years?).  She made at least four of my Halloween costumes, both of my prom dresses, a bunch of Easter dresses, and matching outfits for us to wear to Disney World (which was perfect; in case six-year old Cat Lady got lost, she could just look for the person who matched her!).  Mom's no slouch around a sewing machine, let alone patterns.  However, I have only cut out about two people-sized patterns in my life, and I have less experience with a sewing machine than an Industrial Revolution scholar.

I didn't let this information daunt me.  I'm good at building things according to directions, I'm really good at using my hands, and I was pretty sure that I had absorbed sewing knowledge through osmosis, because obviously, how hard can it be?

Um.... what?
I may have been a bit ambitious with this project.  Just a bit.  Still, I figured out which pieces I needed for my dress B (numbers 1, 2, 3 and 5), and cut out the pattern according to the directions, which I read but didn't necessarily understand.  But come on, I've put together book cases, cupboards, birdhouses, and even Lego sets even though I didn't completely understand how to get them arranged.  I'm a very spatial person, apparently.

As I pinned the patterns to the fabric, I remembered that the little triangles need to be cut out otherwise I wouldn't be able to figure out how to align my fabric.  Look, I did learn something through osmosis!  I cut out the bodice and the skirt, thrilled that I had even remembered to place the solid line along the seam.

Then it came time to put the pattern together.  Uh oh.


Yep, I managed to hand-sew the shoulders of the bodice together, and then I pinned the rest together because I wasn't sure how to exactly connect everything.  I didn't worry about sleeves yet for this process, since I have heard sleeves are a bitch to set into the hole properly.

I sure hope this is right!
Even more excited with my creation, I decided to grab Esperanza and try the thing on her, just to make sure that this teensy tiny pattern was the right size.


Mother... she was right.  The chunky American Girl dolls are way more solidly built and bigger than my china dolls.  They have bigger heads too, from what I remember.  I think my dolls are sixteen inch instead of eighteen as well, if that makes any difference.

So I called my mom to whine about how I'm not sure how to do anything, but how I just really want my dolls to have nice clothes.  We have a date for Saturday, and she is going to help me decode the pattern jargon, resize everything and put together a dress.







 Jean and Esperanza will just have to wait for the clothes that they deserve to wear.








I can't wait to finish this project with some guidance.  I feel like, if I can do this, I'm one step closer to making my own clothes.

I guess it's back to my novel in the meantime.



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