Some of my friends are hideous enablers. One of them decided to enable my obsessive clothing-making spree by buying me a wadge (technical term) of pretty fabric:
Endless swearing was involved in making this dress, because while my cohabitee had to deal with sizing up the pattern (a re-purposed “medieval gown”, sans sleeves) from an 18 to a 28, I still had to sew this bitch festival fabric and unpick at least two seams because I managed to sew it wrong, with it fraying more and more every time.
This is a re-purposed pattern for a 1940s skirt and blouse, minus the sleeves. The fit is actually surprisingly good, and I’ve had to install a zip in one of the side seams so that I can actually get it on and off.
Remaining are olive green taffeta and gold lace, as well as a pile of things (bodice, waistcoat) which need me to do finishing touches and fitting which I don’t want to do because it is hotter than Satan’s ballsack here and putting on clothes repeatedly makes me want to cry.