Instead of emptying the dishwasher and taking a shower, I sewed this dress during Adam's nap today. I'm calling it the "Garden Club" dress. It would look good with a little white hat and some white wrist-length gloves. Or what I'm going to wear with it which would be my old Clark's flip flops.
My hair is atrocious; how am I so stoic about it? I haven't really been sewing anything recently. That's the way it is, coming in waves. For a couple weeks I will constantly be at my sewing table, simultaneously making quilts, a dress, some pants for Adam, and little odds and ends dispersed throughout. Then BAM. I hit a wall and I have to lay down my shears and walk away for two or three weeks until I miss it again.
This dress I started last night while Tom was watching his new Hulu fave, "Top Shot". Yeah, it's a game show for marksmen. To see who is the best shot with a variety of projectile weapons. Obviously, I was all about it. -_- So I took my laptop back into my sewing nook, Hulu'd "America's Most Smartest Model" (I know. I really don't have room to make fun of Tom's show.) and went to work. It didn't really start out as anything, just the feeling that I wanted to make a dress. I started with the skirts since skirts are pretty easy; they're either rectangles or arcs. I cut out a big rectangle and pleated it, basting on the top. At this point VJ and Angela had finished building their go-kart, but Andre and Rachel beat them at the race. I'm not really a fan of Andre because he's always calling himself "the Soviet" and waving his USSR-ness all over the show. Doesn't he know the Union fell like, twenty years ago?
Oh shoot, now I have to decide on a bodice. I dumped out all my patterns and picked Vogue 2239, the first thing I sewed: my prom dress. I only got it cut out and darted before it was time for bed. This morning I nixed the lining and finished the seams on the inside and slapped on some straps and an invisible. Not too shabby.
See my knife wound below my left shoulder? I got it when I was pregnant with Adam. Probably why he's so hardcore. That and the car accident, radiation exposure and that one night before I knew I was pregnant and had a few too many Captain Sprites. Now he's a 31 lb. 1 1/2 year old who eats four eggs and three sausage links for breakfast, then whines at me until I share my cinnamon bun with him. What am I going to do?
Probably just keep sewing.
PS- I entered this dress in the Lovely Summer Dress Challenge. You should dewit.