Meet the Misses, PART 2 (including the Cathy outfit YOU NEVER SAW!)

Oh, readers, once I started excavating the sewing atrocities, I realized that there were many, many more fashion fiascos than I had originally thought.

You may have never seen this square-cut swimsuit (up top) I made for myself four years ago, and I've only worn it once or twice.  Aside for the unflattering cut for someone with legs on the short-and-stocky side, once you see that black banana leaf (a mistake, I swear), which looks like I'm dressing to the left (look it up) you can't unsee it.  Call me old-fashioned, but it's tacky, though it might be a hit on an Atlantis cruise. 

Do you remember when I got into hat making?   I was really excited to make a bucket hat like the one on the front of this McCalls father-son pattern envelope.

Mine looked great initially -- look at all that perfect topstitching!

Then I put it on my head.  I must have an extra-large brain.  Dreadful.

Moving right along.  I thought a nylon mesh underwear set (i.e, top and bottom) would be a fun sewing project.  In the end (no pun intended) the bottoms left little to the imagination, not to mention it was like sitting on chicken wire.

And the top?  File under Nipply.

The less said about the boxtop the better.  During our photo shoot, a group of Japanese tourists cast their eyes down in shame, except for the few that laughed out loud (below).  I know there's a very similar, French version called the calchemise, but all I can say is quelle horreur.  

Pants, you need some pants.

But wait, there's more!

This band-collar shirt had some nice details but was made in the MOST UNFLATTERING COLOR I have ever worn (British Khaki?  Cafe au Lait?  Cat poop?)  The band collar did nothing for my thin neck.

Not one to give up easily, after a year of having the shirt hang in my closet unworn, I had the brilliant idea of redoing the collar.  Voila!

But I still hated the way it looked on me, so I decided to remove the color (it came out like the photographic negative of the original) and re-dye it. Oh, yeah, I also removed the back darts (it was over-fitted) and added pocket flaps (I'm a masochist).

I forgot that while the cotton fabric would hold the dye, the polyester thread would not.  My somewhat sloppy topstitching was visible to the world and the color was still ugly.   It had to go and so it did.  But it was a well-made shirt.

I have created dozens of Cathy outfits over the years and many of you have enjoyed them.  There was one dress, however, that never saw the light of day.

Here's the vintage McCalls pattern I used, which dates roughly from 1939.  Pretty, no?

The muslin (yes, I even made a muslin) was promising, if drab.

Despite going to the trouble of making a matching buckle and covered buttons, this dress just didn't work for me.  Cathy never wore it and it still sits in a storage box somewhere.  Maybe I chose the wrong fabric, or maybe Cathy needed a waist-cincher and a better bra.

Let's end on a truly instructive note.  I made this silk (silk!) blouse, complete with self-drafted bishop sleeves, as the final project for my first patternmaking class at FIT (Fashion Institute for Technology).

What was I thinking when I marked my darts with RED CARBON PAPER????

Needless to say, the red ink never came out.  I was so embarrassed that I made an entirely new blouse.

Never, I repeat, NEVER use red carbon paper (or yellow for that matter) on your fashion fabric.

But you probably knew that already.

Readers, this post is feeling long and I'm still not finished so I think "Meet the Misses -- PART 3" is a strong possibility.

In closing, I hope you have had a laugh or two and learned a little something from my mistakes, if only that your shirt and your underwear must always be two separate garments.

Have a great day, everybody!