I have about a dozen pair of PJs, but most of them are long and warm and entirely inappropriate for our recent summer weather. I decided to make a flowy nightgown out of fabric I purchased to make a maternity nightgown when I was pregnant with the twins. (Yeah, that didn’t happen since I couldn’t reach my sewing machine after five months along.)
From my recently acquired patterns from my mom, I dug out one I thought I remembered my mom making. She made me matching ones. I remember them being soft and light and pink.
The fabric I chose was bright white with blue flowers and a somewhat heavier weight than my mom’s choice. And probably where it all started to go wrong.
I opened the pattern envelope to find only two pattern pieces. Woohoo! This should be a simple project and be done by noon. (Don’t laugh too hard, because you know where this story is now going.)
After an hour of hand sewing – leading me to believe that this was not the pattern my mother used or that she had dramatically altered it – I had the neckline done. It looked terrible. It was claustrophobicly small and tortured looking. I put it down and made lunch.
The next day, I returned to the project, determined to make my own alterations and make it work. I chopped off the neckline. I was going to add some lace and wide straps, sew up the sides and be done by noon. (Again don’t hurt yourself laughing.)
I couldn’t find the lace I had in mind. I had too many hands ready to help me change stitches on the sewing machine, and it was becoming obvious that this wasn’t the fabric for the garment I intended.
By noon, I had the beginnings of a sundress that would look really cute on someone else. The fabric, while being plain cotton, was stiffer, so instead of being flowy and light, looked like a tent on me.
I debated overnight whether to finish it as a sundress and give it away or to continue torturing the project.
The next morning I cut the dress in half. I made the bottom half into shorts by totally winging a pattern. They are comfortable and they fit really well.
That leaves the top.
Sigh. It’s about an inch too tight and the lace is itchy.
Back to the drawing board.