Sunday, January 3, 2010

Can't Cut It

My intention today was to finish fitting the front of a draped gown I started in a workshop way back in November. Let me say this gown has become the bane of exsistance for a few reasons. The biggest is that the fabric, all five yards of it which believe me is not a whole lot for a period gown, came all the way from Holland. Den Hann and wagenmakers have the most beautiful period correct chintz prints you could ever want. I remember standing with my nose pressed up agianst the glass of the shop on my one and only trip to Amsterdam...left drool makes! I bought it when the Euro was higher than it is now, costing me in the end $140.00 plus. Now I'm not going to complain about that, the fabric is beautiful. But what the price of it caused me to do is to be afraid of it. Yep, afraid of it. I waited close to FOUR years before finally deciding to turn the nicely washed and ironed beautiful bundle into a gown.

So off to Virginia it went with me. What could be better than turning a period correct piece of fabric into a custom made gown? I know how to drape gowns, been doing it for several years now but one really can't drape upon one's own back. So what a better way to turn this into something special than bring it with me?

Well, let's just say things didn't go so well. I don't know what happened between Saturday and Sunday, but by the time I sewed it together and put it on it was at least two sizes too big. So I've been trying to make myself cut at least four inches off the front edge closure in order to make it fit.

The problem is I just can't seem to get my hands to grasp the sissors and cut. The gown went on today with the stays in the correct spot, bum roll on. It was pinned, checked and double checked. And then...nothing. Can't do it.

Oh, I know I can fix it, that no one will know (except you now) and that it will be just fine. But deep down in side that "I told you not to do it" voice is screaming in my head. I can always take in sleeves, re-pleat the skirts and rework trim to the cows come home. But if I mess up the front of the bodice I'm gonna ruin the whole gown, all $140+ class + hotel + gas of it.

I know it will be okay. It always is. I've seen enough Frankensteined 18t century construction to know that whatever I do it it, it's already been done. Now if only I could convince my right hand of that we'd be okay.

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