Friends, (Romans, countrymen…) when do you reach that point where you wake up and say, “Wow. I’m a grownup”? For me, that happens pretty regularly, but I don’t think it’s ever been really true. (Hint: Pretty sure grownups don’t call themselves “grownups”.) I’m absolutely always faking it. Behold my latest grown-up disguise:
Oh, er…well, I guess my fabulous boots sorta belie the grownupness of this dress…. Also, they make me look like Hank Hill’s dad. Good lord, where are my shins?!
This was made using my crazy pattern piece I ended up with at the end of this post. Only this time, I actually USED IT, instead of completely ignoring it and making a too-small size. TL;DR: this is a 14 with a 2″ FBA. I definitely ended up with too much fabric in the back. I need to take some length out of my back bodice piece, that’s for sure.
…and here’s where I get photobombed by a dog taking a dump. Yep. So I graciously stepped back and let him take center stage.
This is Cash, one of our neighbor’s dogs. He’s a big goofy boxer that apparently likes to poop on camera.
Cash break in the photoshoot!
I was actually trying to get him more centered in the shot, so you could see how beautiful and sweet he really is, but he was way more obsessed with butt-scratching instant gratification at this point.
SO ANYWAYS. I took a page out of Andrea‘s book and used the sleeve lining pattern pieces for ungathered sleeves. Only mine wasn’t because I didn’t want it to look too sticky-sweet; it’s cause I suck at the gathering part, and always (twice) end up with wonkyass sleeves.
Again with the excess fabric in the back. I’ll have to look into what the heck that’s all about, unless someone knows…? Also, this is my “the strange dog is not sniffing my leg out of sight of the camera at ALL” face. You know what I’m talking about. We all have one.
Cash’s owner(‘s boyfriend–I’m pretty sure Cash’s person is a girl) totally saw me petting Cash when he pulled up on his motorcycle, then saw that I was taking pictures of myself by propping my camera up in weird places…(Note to self: obtain tripod of some sort.)
He called Cash in, sort of chuckling and nodding in my direction, avoiding eye contact lest he trigger my slavering, boxer-devouring dark side and be forced to witness me unhinge my jaw to consume his dog entire.
What? I was totally NOT watching you call your dog inside. I was…standing here…looking around awkwardly. Cause that’s more normal.
I finished this Cambie by catching the lining in the shell’s hem, and blindstitching on my machine. I definitely cannot wrap my mind around how blindstitching works on a machine, but I also forget how a sewing machine works and have to find an amazing GIF to stare at, mesmerized. Anyway, I’m never at a point where I say to myself, “Well, Kristi, here you are, almost completely finished and ready to wear your new dress/skirt. What if–and just hear me out, here–what if you go ahead and wait another WEEK while you HANDSEW a hem so that nobody sees it?” If/when that ever occurs to me, here’s what I say to that inner voice:
Yep. Grownup, bitches. BeeAreBee, gotta go hunt wild dogs. (Jaykay, people.)