If you’ve been thinking that the Selfish Seamstress has been a little scarce in these parts as of late, I would say that’s pretty accurate. Apparently all of the students at my university expect me to “educate” them, my research lab expects me to “mentor” them, and my colleagues expect me to “collaborate” with them. I ask you – do any of these words sound like things that Professor Selfish would actually do?? Grumble. So, things I haven’t had much time for:
- Reading and commenting on your sewing blogs
- Writing on my own sad, stagnating sewing blog
Things I do somehow manage to find time for (other than the aforementioned grudging educating, mentoring, and collaborating):
- Buying fabric
- Resenting stuff
So now that these appear to be my two main free time hobbies, I am in the fortunate position to be able to combine these two passions through my newest Selfish Seamstress Nemesis: Ann of Gorgeous Fabrics, aka “Gowachuss Nemesis,” “Fab-ri-licious Nemesis,” “Hawt Nemesis.” Ha, that’s right, Ann, I’m turning your own idiosyncratic spellings right back on you!
“Oh, Selfish!” you might protest, “Not Ann! She’s such a positive, life-affirming soul, and gives such great, friendly customer service! How could you ever make an enemy of Ann?” Don’t let her fool you. She made an enemy of me first. Let’s face it, the woman’s a pusher, a sneaky temptress. She reels you in with enticing patterns and colors, and next thing you know, you’re hitting refresh on her “new arrivals” page 20, 30, 40 times a day. You’re looking at it first thing when you wake up and second-to-last thing before you go to bed (last thing, obviously, being saying a little prayer that she doesn’t post anything too amazing while you are asleep that gets all bought up before you wake up.)
Sure, I could treat this like any ordinary nemesis post and go on and on about her gorgeous silk Pippa dress, or her closetful of let-me-show-off-my-couture-sewing-skills Chanel jackets, seething with envy all the while. But I think you’ll get a better feel for just how powerful a foe this woman is if you check out her designer fabric page while simultaneously staring into the face of pure fabric-pushing evil:
That warm, dazzling smile, that chic haircut, that stunning dress … shudder. I have chilling flashbacks of typing in my billing address just looking at her. And even more dangerous – do not underestimate the ways in which Ann can mess with your head and turn you into your own worst enemy just by adding new stuff to her store. She makes me like things I didn’t think I liked (florals??), she makes me want things I didn’t think I wanted (charmeuse??), and lastly she makes me buy things that I don’t need (silk??). No, no, actually, I do need them. Like this forsythia print Milly silk charmeuse that makes one long for spring in the dead of winter. Absolute necessity and haha, sold out, suckas!
She knows what she’s doing too, that crafty, crafty Ann. I thought I had won this one. I resisted it until it sold out. She got another bolt, and still I resisted, remembering my shame from the last time I binged on her silk supplies. And then, sensing my strength decaying, she delivered her perfectly timed shot – a sale. My resistance crumbled like a week-old cookie, and that was that. Two more yards in my shopping bag. She won. (Sigh, she won again earlier this week with another sale during which I succumbed to two pieces of black stretch leather. She knows she’s the only person on the whole internet who sells stretch leather by the piece, and she wielded that silently over my head like a giant, lethal seam ripper.)
And so, what of it then? What did this wicked woman drive me to next? I’ll tell you: Vogue 1236, the DKNY blouson dress.
Given how precious few my sewing hours are these days (I actually finished this a week ago, but didn’t have time to photograph and post), I figured I would opt for something very simple so that I could actually finish it. Vogue 1236 is indeed delightfully simple, but the pleats at the neckline make it far from boring, and very on-trend in the silhouette. It also doesn’t require a precise fit, which made it a lot easier to put together in my few scraps of sewing time. But, like many of the DKNY patterns, it starts at size 8, which meant I had to grade down 2 sizes, and that’s sort of time-consuming. Plus, my choice of silk charmeuse made everything take three times as long because my clumsy fingers aren’t good at cutting, pinning, and stitching slippery, drapey fabric that changes shape when you so much as look at it. But I managed:
Argh. I’m showing this one so you can have a better front view of the dress, but only reluctantly because I hate when photos make me look like I have an enormous balloon head, and teeny tiny freaky rubber hands! What is it about photos that make my hands so small??
I ended up using the wrong side of the fabric, because I liked the matte side better, and I thought it might be more appropriate for work, unshiny and tucked under a cardigan. The bonus is that the silky slippery side is against my skin, which feels all kinds of posh.
Other than the grading down, I didn’t make any significant changes. I did French seams on the sides, and I used a different method of attaching the facing than the one recommended in the instructions. (The method in the instructions leaves little openings that you close with hand stitching, but I opted for my usual version that lets you do the whole thing by machine and in my opinion gives a more consistent finish.) I also omitted the pockets because having them would be a temptation to put stuff in them, which probably isn’t a great idea for a light, floaty, delicate dress.
Here’s a close up on the front pleats, which take on a nice, fluid softness rendered in the charmeuse:
So I guess something good came out of my little losing battle with Selfish Seamstress Nemesis Ann. Sure, she’s going to keep posting irresistible fabrics faster than I can sew them (especially these days) and sure, I’m going to keep buying them faster than I can sew them. But a new dress in an absolutely gowachuss forsythia print silk is still a tiny little victory that I’m going to savor. Take that, Nemesis!