Sunday, February 21, 2010

Pursuits

I've had a slow start to 2010, creatively speaking. (At this point I'm relieved there were no public declarations regarding my blogging frequency.) In an attempt to combat this creative malaise, I've set myself three projects to complete over the next three months. Tasks have been divided up and sorted into small components to improve my chances of success.

The first of these projects is to make a dress for an upcoming awards night. (The other two projects will be the subject of future posts.) If I can make something now, I won't have to stress about finding an appropriate frock at the last minute. Starting now also means ample time for trial and error; the inevitable unpicking, resizing and resewing which accompanies unfamiliar patterns. My sewing machine – freshly serviced and purring like a kitten – has been receiving plenty of attention lately. Success, it seems, breeds success: one garment leads to another, courage is fostered, ambitions grow, sights are raised. Trawling through a vintage pattern site I happened upon Simplicity 4467:



Love the clean and elegant cut of this dress, and the button detailing on the back is beautiful (not sure about that pocket though). Am feeling a little apprehensive about working with a vintage pattern, and this one seems to have a lot of pieces.



Not to mention that, according to the measurements, 60s women clearly weren't the same proportions as me ... who has a waist that small? One thing is clear from this pattern: it was designed by a human. It's lovely and I can hardly bring myself to put scissors to paper. (Then I remind myself I bought this pattern to use, not to put in a safe deposit box to sell for $20 when I'm like, 70, or something.)



Many of the modern patterns in my collection are typeset in some flavour of uniform-sized, all-caps Helvetica Condensed. A mass of text and no hierarchy; built by an engineer rather than a designer. (As if some of these patterns aren't confusing enough.) This vintage pattern, in contrast, has a clear and easy to follow hierarchy. It's almost a pleasure to read and follow these directions.

Armed with several metres of calico, I'm well prepared for Round 1. Worst case scenario is that I have a stylish calico number to step out in!

A.S.

Ankylosing meaning bond or join
and spondylitis meaning of the bone or spine.
That half explains the cracks and clicks,
the clockwork of my joints and discs,
the ratchet of my hips.
I’m fossilising - every time I rest
I let the gristle knit, weave, mesh.
My dear, my skeleton will set like biscuit overnight, like glass, like ice,
and you can choose to snap me back to life before first light,
or let me laze until the shape I take becomes the shape I keep.
Don’t let me be. Don’t leave me sleep.

(From Book of Matches, by the wonderful Simon Armitage.)