Okay, so a couple months back I started having a fever dream for the hi-lo split hem t-shirt dress that is the Inari tee from Named.
This because I wanted a short-sleeve t-shirt dress that was dressy-ish enough to fit into a tidy little capsule wardrobe. You know how these things go: ou have a trip coming up. You start searching pinterest for things like ‘HOW TO FIT A WEEK’S TRAVEL IN A SINGLE CARRY ON’, which leads to attractive capsule wardrobe pins, and suddenly you’re thinking that you can’t possibly travel with the clothes currently in your closet and you must make some.
So as I was looking at the Inari dress, I was like: wait a minute! I don’t have to compulsively buy every cutely-photographed pattern. I already have a split, hi-lo hem short sleeve dress pattern, that I’ve made before. Hello Marfy Catalog 2014/2015. Specifically, welcome back Marfy 3367.
Problem is, while I loved my first version for the royal purple wool and the silk lining, I just don’t wear it. I’d thought this was because the thing had shrunk, or that I just didn’t know how to fit myself very well three years ago. So I started from scratch, retracing the pattern and still wound up with something that just doesn’t fit quite right in the bodice.
But what we have is something I’m not totally in love with.
I don’t generally consider myself capable of critiquing the drafting skills of others, but: I think the pattern is out of balance. There back fits very closely to the body, and I actually think it fits well. But the front: the chest still feels tight despite a really generous full bust adjustment. And it has this sort of easy-fit-at-the-waist thing going on. Look what happens when I put my hands on my hips and stand a little lazily.
All that front excess goes to the belly and, because I probably chose the wrong weight of fabric, it stands out in a little ball and I look preggo.
I don’t really understand the problem. It’s not a massive issue on these two dresses, where I used 3667 as the base. But maybe the hand of the fabric reduces the effect and the comparatively large skirts on those ones give the excess somewhere to go? I don’ know. (SIDE NOTE: Would you wear those other two dresses? I used to, but have been self-conscious ever since someone told me I looked like a flight attendant when I wore the navy one with a scarf. Those dresses have been dead to me for months).
Right, so tight-chest-excess-round-belly space is my chief complaint. But maybe file that away if you’re an A-cup pregnant lady who needs some second trimester wear?
It’s been a while since this was finished. A long while. A while as in, my work trip was in April, and now it’s June long. For London in April, this Oscar de la Renta silk wool blend was the perfect weight (and now you are all shaking your heads in shame at me for effing up such nice stuff, right?). But I think the fabric choice might be a bad match for the dress.
Now, a question: What am I doing wrong with my darts? I keep having extra folds above and below the dart seam, running parallel to it. I don’t know what it is, pinching out the fold and making the dart bigger helps a bit but just a bit, I’m doing my full bust adjustments according to instructions, etc. What gives?
(Check that bias sleeve cuff detail though! My favorite part of the dress. I should just rip the sleeves off and wear them by themselves.)
So, is it a failure? I dunno. I wear it. And I assume no one judges me for the fit of this garment any more than they judged me when I made a habit of wearing ill-fitting store-bought clothes on the regular. But she ain’t perfect. And just as soon as I unlock perfect dress fitting and fill my wardrobe with precisely tailored dresses, she’s getting cut up for that scraps quilt for sure. But for now, it’ll do.
PS: It’s been a while since the last post, I realize. I was traveling, we were buying a house, and I got a little lazy. Lots of stuff backlogged, though, so brace yourselves.