Last time, I shared with you a few dresses I’d made for my friends. I felt this particular dress deserved a post of its own.
This dress is my pièce de résistance – a knock off the Lindy Bop Ophelia dress, drafted from New Look 6773. It was made from Spotlight poly poplin. Before you ask, I am aware that Gertie produced a pattern for Butterick (5882) which is similar in style to the Ophelia. I did consider using it, but the bust piece is so small that it looks less like a design feature and more like a pair of small birds landed on the model’s chest.
I am very lucky to have lovely friends who are not only infinitely more gorgeous than me*, but also let me sew for them. As someone who is mainly housebound, I don’t have the opportunity to dress up for special occasions. To be able to sew for people who will get out and about in fancy clothes is incredibly cathartic, as it indulges my whim to sew special garments which I know will get good wear (unlike my formal clothes, which sit unloved in my wardrobe). It is also a helpful mental coping tool, as it forces my mind out of my situation, in which I feel trapped, and into the outside world.
Any sewing aficionado not living under a rock will be aware of McCall’s 6696, their famous shirtdress pattern. Gorgeousvariations abound online, and for good reason – it seems to be one of those unicorn patterns that looks good on justaboutanyone. Except me, of course.
This winter, I knit a pleasingly large number of accessories. Most were from stash yarn, meaning I spent basically no money and received hours of fun and some fab hats and scarves. What I knit (click through to the Rav project page for more, you can follow along at shibz):
Welcome back. In Part I, I discussed drafting errors, grafts and crotches in indie patterns. In Part II, I finally utilise my psyc degree for completely useless purposes and share sordid stories of brand loyalty. For those with visual difficulties, there is a GIF at the end of the post.
Indie pattern company lovers: I get the hype, I really do. Being a member of several online communities that have an inclination to cult-like behaviour, I have seen and participated in many trends which were little more than clever marketing campaigns. I have seen knitting lovers fight for the right to purchase $100+ skeins of yarn. On buy swap sell groups, brand lovers will line up to purchase a stained $200 dress, or bid each other upwards of $1000 for a jacket that cost $300 retail. I’ve even sold crotch-stained tights to a diehard Gorman lover.* I’VE SEEN SOME SHIT GUYS.**
Warning: this is a long post, as I coalesce thoughts that I’ve had for a long time into words. I’m sharing this in two parts, as it ended up much longer than I expected. Bear with me – or not!
Indie sewing patterns: you either love them or you….love them. In the online sewing community, there seems to be little choice: the narrative is one of the Nasty Big 4 Corporations (McCall’s, Simplicity, Vogue and Butterick, alternately known as McVoguerick) wielding their industrial might to crush the little guy, indie pattern companies. They are the hero of this story, the hard-working small business owners come good. For a long while now, I’ve suspected that the success of indie pattern companies is built more on hype than good drafting, and the release of Colette Pattern’s Rue dress has brought these thoughts to a head.
You guys – I’ve finally found my perfect match. Every sewist knows the struggle with patterns that aren’t quite drafted for their body type – the restrictive arms, the too-wide neckline, and the dress that looks cute on the envelope, but looks more like a muu-muu on your body. Enter European sewing magazines: well-drafted, stylish, and the perfect fit for my body.