Ever finished a project and thought, thank god that’s done? That’s how I felt about my Traveler dress. It was no fault of the dress’, the whole thing was just beset with issues from the get-go. First, I opened my package of fabric to discover that my chosen plaid was about as opaque as a window. No problem, I thought, I’ll just line it. Then, I started cutting it out and found that the fabric was also just about the most difficult eff’in fabric in the history of sewing. My grandmother would call it “hateful,” which is just about the worst thing she could say about something.
I made another dress body in lining fabric (mismatched, BTW, since I didn’t have enough), but somehow I made it way too small to fit around my very girthy hips. More cursing. I tried to make some adjustments by adding gussets to the side seams, but it didn’t make any difference. Finally, I just cut the damn thing out, leaving only the bodice lined. I was so friggin’ relieved when my scissors made that first cut, and cursed myself again for not just doing that to begin with.
Anyway, after all those mistakes I still ended up with a dress I totally love. I wore it to work with tights (and a slip) and my purple wedges, which are the world’s most uncomfortable shoes.
I am quite possibly the worst model in the history of photography. It doesn’t help that my husband has no grasp of how to take a flattering photo. And I just love how Farley photobombed every single frame.
I eliminated the top pockets just because I didn’t think they’d be useful and with this plaid you couldn’t have seen them anyway. I don’t own even one belt, so I wore it with the tie included in the pattern; a nice wide belt would look cool I think.
The buttons are wooden and were actually chosen for a completely different dress, but I liked them here.
It’s not perfect but it’s the first thing I’ve sewed for myself in years, and the first thing ever that I not only wore but want to wear again. Score.