Tag Archive | disaster

UFO #2: Peasant blouse

Oh youse guys.

This is bad. Like, really bad.

This peasant blouse was supposed to have been a transitional maternity top for me last spring/summer. And in that respect, I made an excellent choice in pattern (Butterick 5217 for anyone who really cares).

Guys, I can't see my toes.

Guys, I can’t see my toes.

When I put it away last spring, or, more accurately, when it just sat in a lump on my table for months on end, I had already sewn the yoke together, constructed the sleeves, and had sewn the front and back together. I even put French seams in this bad boy! All I had to do was put the above-mentioned pieces together and it would have been done! But…

I decided that beige linen was boring. It needed something to spruce it up, give it a little visual interest. I found some kind of whirly fiddly little design that I wanted to embroider on the yoke. For Christmas, Mr. Gren had given me one of those fading ink fabric pens. I drew on the fiddly little design and set to work. When I was 80% done with it, I left on my trip back East. That was the last time I touched it. The ink had faded by the time I returned and, for some reason, despite my growing belly, I had no interest or inclination in finishing this particular project.

I got the embroidery 95% completed this time before I decided I didn't care anymore.

I got the embroidery 95% completed this time before I decided I didn’t care anymore.

And let’s face it, peeps, my embroidery skillz ain’t so hot. But the whole project was hung up on me finishing the embroidery before attaching the yoke and bodice, otherwise I’d embroider through the yoke facing and I needed all the ugly side to be sandwiched between the two layers of fabric where it would be protected from unraveling. So I got to this point and went, “Eh, less is more” and sewed the yoke and bodice together.

Then I thought it would be fun to try it on.

i haz a sad.

i haz a sad.

You’ve heard the phrase “sad sack”? Now you have a visual reference. This is a sad sack. No, I take that back. This sack is downright depressed.

Plenty of room to grow! Except... baby was born 4 months ago.

Plenty of room to grow! Except… baby was born 4 months ago.

The plan was that this could serve me through pregnancy yet also be something that wasn’t overtly maternity and even have an extended life as a cute top postpartum and beyond. Obviously that’s not gonna happen.

“What about belting it?” you ask. I asked myself the same question and tried it out with a belt. They’re all worse. Laughably worse.

There's no helping this atrocity.

There’s no helping this atrocity.

Baby Sprinkaan was asleep in my room at the time of the photo, so I couldn’t get to my belt, but you get the general idea. Cinching in the waist does strange and unflattering things to the bust region. The heck is up with those pleats?? There really isn’t any point in attaching the sleeves now. In fact, this UFO is destined for the scrap basket. I think there is enough fabric in the bodice that I could make something for one of the kids; I just haven’t hit on that something yet.

Next up on Disasters in Linen…

Remember this dress? IMG_0073

I unpacked it recently to find a large, yellow stain on the front. It looked like mustard, but surely I would have noticed that when I packed it away? I ran it through the washing machine. Heh. Not only did the stain not come out, this happened:

IMG_4092

It’s unsalvageable. There are two more rips like this on the skirt. The peasant blouse makes me laugh. This one actually does make me sad. So, I’ll be clipping all the buttons off and throwing this one in the scrap heap, too. {sigh}

Enough of that. Next up in the quest to conquer my UFOs:

IMG_4095

I’d better get a move on.

 

 

 

 

.

Wouldn’t you know it

We got back yesterday afternoon from nearly a week of family reunion/wedding stuff. It was great, a lot of fun, but hectic! At any one time, there were 13-25 people in the vacation rental house, and seven of them were children under 6 years old. “Busy” is an understatement. The day of the wedding reminded me of the scene in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” — people running up and down the stairs in various states of dress; Oops forgot to grab the girls’ hair ribbons; Has anyone seen Mom’s shoes? Somebody needs to get out of the bathroom ’cause I still need to do my makeup! — and we were the family of the groom!

Things didn’t get any better when we arrived at the reception site for pictures. I went to help my sister unload the wedding cake from her car and we were greeted by a mass of mushed up cake and frosting in the back and dripping off the hatch onto us. It was horrendous. In ten years of my sister making and decorating wedding cakes, she has never had one collapse. She was heartbroken and we all felt awful for her. My little brother has the most even-keeled personality of anyone I know, so he took the news in stride and L’s family were all very gracious about the cake disaster. My grandpa took my sister to the store to try and find some kind of replacement cake. When the pictures were done, Mr. Gren took our crazy monkeys back to the house to burn off some steam before the wedding and I stayed at the reception site with my sister to help her dress up the pseudo-wedding cake. We still managed to have some time to wind down back at the house before the actual wedding.

Everyone should get to see how lovely the cake was before it died.

At the wedding, Mr. Gren found his seat and carefully distributed brand new coloring books and crayons along the pews where the six little flower girls and one little ring bearer would be seated after they performed their duties. Meanwhile, my sister, sister-in-law and I were corralling all the kids in the back room waiting for show time and trying to keep them out of the way of the bridesmaids and bride. Of course, right when the wedding coordinator popped her head in to let us know it was almost time to line up, I noticed that Konik wasn’t smelling so fresh… and Mr. Gren had the diaper bag. Ugh. But the kids all did a good job walking down the aisle and filed in to their seats just like they were supposed to (and then Mr. Gren whisked Konik away to get him cleaned up).

In the midst of all that chaos, neither of us got a picture of little man in his spiffy wedding clothes. Not even at the reception! So, unless one of my family members got a photo of him, we’ll have to try to stage a shot. And of course, it didn’t occur to any of us to take a picture of me in my new dress, either. I’ll try to get some pictures taken this week!

Rana waiting for dinner at the reception

But, despite all the craziness on our end of things, my brother and his bride were beaming the entire day and thoroughly enjoyed all the festivities. And that’s the most important part!

Congratulations, S & L!