non, je ne regrette rien

oh this dress was so hard to finish.

early on in the process, i began cursing it. like a sailor. a drunk and very mean sailor. i mean, that's not out of the ordinary, but i cursed it so many times, i think it took its vengeance out upon me by cursing me. every time i thought of a solution, it would give me a baby carrot of success, only to present me with a new and smelly onion of a problem. it has some sort of power over me, i swear it. EVEN WRITING THIS POST WAS NEAR IMPOSSIBLE. error forms all over the place. accursed, i tell you.

how else can i explain why i would hang onto this hateful piece of cloth for three years of fixes?

as you can see, it was supposed to be a loose drapey dress. but as i traced the burda magazine pattern, i remembered for the umpteenth time: ruggy doesn't like loose in his womenswear. (yes, i know there's a joke to be had in there. big daddy, have at.)

now, this was the first (and last) time i'd ever decided to cut a muslin first. i chose this very slippery extremely flammable bastard of a print, thinking myself so smart to use cheap fabric that simulated the expensive silk i envisioned for it. after screaming through the first three pleats on the shoulder of this monster, i calmly folded every piece up and stowed it away in le ziploc bag.

one year later, having pinned a goodly amount of other slippery fabric, i did the side and shoulder seams. then tried to futz with the drapey front, twisting it at the waist and cutting the excess, making a nice front shape... and making the side seams curved like the mississippi river. back in the bag it went.

another year passed, and i had the bright idea to add a panel to each side seam. seams nice and straight again. but curved front now hung two inches below the hem. bag it, sammy.

six months. learned about bias tape. made some out of excess bastard fabric. who knows why i kept any excess, i'm telling you, it put a spell on me. recut the curved section and finished it off. successfully inserted the invisible zipper, and found that there were pools of fabric hanging off of my shoulders and back like i should be ringing a bell in notre dame. two months in the bag for you.

darts. i knew something about darts at this point. threw some darts in the back and shouted hallelujah. then glared in wide eyed horror as the hem now sat four inches higher on my ample rear.

BAG.

three months ago and many successful hems later, i thought i could finish it and wear it as a holiday dress. at this point, it was no longer a muslin. it was The Beast. and there was no way i was making another Beast. i carefully cut the hem to micro mini length all the way around, and realized i'd have to do the draped section all over again.

*&#@! BAG.

yesterday, in the face of sew weekly's UFO challenge, i informed this garment: it would be my bitch. redid the drape. added a wide bottom panel to make the hem wiggle length. oh, it put up a fight. slipped under my scissors. caught itself up in my serger. refused to be ironed. but i beat it into submission. not perfect submission, no-- plenty of ripples on that bias, oh yes. but it's wearable in mood lighting.

I WIN, WITCH CLOTH FROM HELL.

fabric: bastard cloth from hell.
pattern: burda magazine 118.
year: 5/2009.
notions: invisible zip ($1), 2 yards of fabric ($5).
cost: $6, and part of my soul.
time to complete: three years.
first worn: when i took these pictures yesterday.
wear again: if only to show it who's boss.