queerbychoice (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
queerbychoice) wrote2002-08-23 01:04 am
queerbychoice) wrote2002-08-23 01:04 am
Sewing
I've had such a placid evening of old-fashioned domestic duties.
Some eight months or so ago, when I became suddenly infatuated with velvet clothing and had to buy every velvet item in sight, I bought myself two used vintage velvet skirts from some little online place specializing in 1960's clothing. I barely glanced at the measurements before buying them, since in general most skirts of any size just tend to fit me. But elastic hadn't yet been popularized when these skirts were made, so they're rather less forgiving about sizes. They're both long skirts, a red one and a yellow one. The red one is ankle length and a little difficult to get up over my hips, but once I get it on it's comfortable enough—and though I put it away in my bottom drawer eight months ago with the idea that I might need to shorten it to avoid tripping on it, further inspection now convinces me that it's perfectly wearable with no adjustments made.
Unfortunately, the yellow one is rather a different matter. It seems to have been designed for someone shaped rather like Jeremy, which is to say: 6'1" and 120 pounds, and lacking female-shaped hips—in other words, distinctly uncommon among skirt-wearing customers, though maybe not so uncommon among skirt-wearing professional models. Anyway, the only way I can get it on is to pull it down over my shoulders with exceeding care, and once I do get it on, it's far too long and rather uncomfortably tight around the waist too—but for some reason I was feeling ambitious this evening, and decided to attempt to adjust it. I cut off eight inches around the bottom all the way around and re-hemmed it so I can walk around without tripping. The waist would be very much harder to adjust though, and I'm not sure I even have adequate sewing skills to be capable of it. It's not that badly sized for me I suppose; it's only one inch narrower than the red skirt which is perfectly comfortable. The yellow skirt has a 28-inch waist whereas the red skirt and I both have 29-inch waists. My waist can be forcibly stuffed into the yellow skirt's waist but I just think it's the kind of thing that would get annoying if I ever wanted to eat a large meal.
So now I'm left wondering what exactly I bothered taking up the hem for if the skirt still isn't going to fit me comfortably anyway. But I suppose I do have sufficient skill to widen it an inch if I'm willing to put in about ten more hours of work. It's just that the number of hours required tends to intimidate me.
Maybe I'll just try wearing it a day or two first and see exactly how uncomfortable it actually proves to be?
Some eight months or so ago, when I became suddenly infatuated with velvet clothing and had to buy every velvet item in sight, I bought myself two used vintage velvet skirts from some little online place specializing in 1960's clothing. I barely glanced at the measurements before buying them, since in general most skirts of any size just tend to fit me. But elastic hadn't yet been popularized when these skirts were made, so they're rather less forgiving about sizes. They're both long skirts, a red one and a yellow one. The red one is ankle length and a little difficult to get up over my hips, but once I get it on it's comfortable enough—and though I put it away in my bottom drawer eight months ago with the idea that I might need to shorten it to avoid tripping on it, further inspection now convinces me that it's perfectly wearable with no adjustments made.
Unfortunately, the yellow one is rather a different matter. It seems to have been designed for someone shaped rather like Jeremy, which is to say: 6'1" and 120 pounds, and lacking female-shaped hips—in other words, distinctly uncommon among skirt-wearing customers, though maybe not so uncommon among skirt-wearing professional models. Anyway, the only way I can get it on is to pull it down over my shoulders with exceeding care, and once I do get it on, it's far too long and rather uncomfortably tight around the waist too—but for some reason I was feeling ambitious this evening, and decided to attempt to adjust it. I cut off eight inches around the bottom all the way around and re-hemmed it so I can walk around without tripping. The waist would be very much harder to adjust though, and I'm not sure I even have adequate sewing skills to be capable of it. It's not that badly sized for me I suppose; it's only one inch narrower than the red skirt which is perfectly comfortable. The yellow skirt has a 28-inch waist whereas the red skirt and I both have 29-inch waists. My waist can be forcibly stuffed into the yellow skirt's waist but I just think it's the kind of thing that would get annoying if I ever wanted to eat a large meal.
So now I'm left wondering what exactly I bothered taking up the hem for if the skirt still isn't going to fit me comfortably anyway. But I suppose I do have sufficient skill to widen it an inch if I'm willing to put in about ten more hours of work. It's just that the number of hours required tends to intimidate me.
Maybe I'll just try wearing it a day or two first and see exactly how uncomfortable it actually proves to be?
no subject
(Anonymous) 2002-08-23 05:08 am (UTC)(link)Anyway, letting out the seem wouldn't take very long if that is all there is to do.
-angela
no subject
I used to make latchhook rugs as a child. My paternal grandmother (the dead one) taught me how, and I was enthralled with that for a while but I outgrew my enthrallment and I've never really been enthralled at all with regular sewing. I just muddle my way through it because I'm exceptionally fussy about my clothing and when I have an outfit I love it's always worthwhile to me to strive to salvage it from whatever terrors have rendered it temporarily unwearable.
no subject