Apparently, I have a finite amount of sewing mojo.

Whenever I have a good run with my sewing, whenever patterns fit with minimal fiddling or things go together smoothly, I’ve learned to anticipate that I’m soon going to experience some catastrophic failures.

Well, it’s failure time, my friends.

For the past couple of weeks, I’d been working on a dress for my cousin’s wedding, the Simplicity 2177:Simplicity 2177

It’s a pretty simple dress with an interesting bodice detail; I made the sleeveless version.  I had to grade sizes a bit and cut the back bodice a full size smaller than the front (which is perplexing), but I loved the final product.  I made a test version in a charcoal chambray and the final version in a quilting cotton.  I’ve already worn both and can see myself returning to this pattern often.

It got me to thinking, though, that I don’t have any dresses (besides the two I literally just made), and I became kind of obsessed with the idea of this becoming my Summer of Dresses.  They’d solve a lot of my summer clothing problems: cool comfort without having to wear shorts, easy to wear as they’re only one piece, and pulled-together-looking while still being as easy as putting on a housedress*.  I also decided to crank out some shorts for JB as we’re all going on vacation later this spring and I’d like him to have something that fits.

So. I gathered some patterns I’ve not tried before from my pattern hoard drawer, and got ready to sew. Up first was a pair of cargo shorts for JB and a dress for me (Simplicity 2209).  The shorts went together pretty easily and I used an old pair of my husband’s pants so yay for recycling, but I hated the waistband.  It was just a fold-over casing and looked bulky and uncomfortable.  I chopped it off, added a ribbed knit waistband with elastic, and while they’re wearable, they just don’t fit my boy’s figure.  Boo.

And the muslin of the bodice of my dress was laughably bad – the pattern has darts from the waistline to the bust that are open at the ends, and they line up with my actual bust in a hilarious and terrifying way. Without oversharing, the open dart ends give me four distinct points across my bustline, which it a little too sci-fi for my tastes.  It’d take a lot of fitting to try to make it work, and honestly, I just don’t like the dress enough to bother. Please, please, please...

I’ve got three more patterns I’m going to try out before I abandon the Summer of Dresses dream.  Wish me luck.  Because if it doesn’t work out, I may start shopping for housedresses

*When Jen and I were kids, my grandmother kept a closet full of housedresses, these fantastic muu-muu style garments in flowy fabrics.  Jen and I always put one on immediately upon arriving at Grandma’s house. Then Grandma, Jen, and I would hang out in our housedresses, reading The National Enquirer and drinking Coke from little glass bottles.  It was pretty awesome.