After my first Agnes attempt, I simply couldn’t wait to get started on a second. I’d picked up some £1-a-metre jersey (from the shop with the cat) during the Dalston meet-up, which, amazingly, survived its pre-wash. But oh dear me, it all seemed downhill from there. The bodice sewed up quickly but even after taking off more than 10% off the neckband, it still doesn’t sit smooth and flat, and it puckers awkwardly at the centre front. My ample frontage seems to neutralise the ruching. The jersey was so thin that you can see the seam allowance (along with everything else), which obstinately insists on curling in different directions. And then I went completely dotty and cut the sleeves on the wrong grain. It was only at the point of trying to try on the top that I made this discovery. Actually it was a relief to realise my mistake, because my first horrified thought was ‘my God, how have my arms become so big?!?’
Thankfully I had enough fabric to re-cut the sleeves, albeit at the shorter length. The top then did actually fit. -ish. It’s comfortable, but not gorgeous. The thinness of the fabric does nothing but accentuate all the wrong bits, and I just don’t feel right in it. I’m disappointed, but at the same time it’s been a useful lesson. I wouldn’t have bought a top in this fabric, ergo it was silly to buy the fabric, no matter the bargainacious price.
To add to the above issues I’ve been really struggling to get to grips with my new camera. With so little daylight at our disposal now, and rain often keeping me indoors (where I’d rather be sewing), I’ve had few opportunities to properly get to know it. I’ve read about f-stops and ISO but without time and dedication I know they’ll just remain useless concepts in my brain, rather than skills in my hands.
This means slightly fraught photography sessions with poor, patient J taking the brunt of my stress. We take a few photos; I hate them; I start getting tense; the photos get worse; I insist we stop (even though I’m not satisfied) – because I hate snapping at my helping hand. Seeing photographs of myself for the most part makes me feel despondent about the body I’ve tried hard to accept and love. My scoliosis is more apparent there than it feels, and part of me feels a failure for not disguising it with my sewing. Which is obviously absurd – objectively a wonky spine can’t nor should be disguised.
In an attempt to counteract my awkwardness and negativity I did start being silly and moving about in a way that can only be described as scamper-posing.
The best part about this make was that I used a twin needle for the first time, and I love it! You can’t properly see the stitching in this shot, but believe me it’s pride-worthy 🙂
Anyway, I’m not really sure I’ll ever wear this top out; it might join the ranks of my odd assortment of loungewear. As you can see from the pictures above, that’s how I feel most comfortable ‘styling’ it! Anybody else out there have this negativity problem taking photos of their makes?