Well, I did no sewing yesterday, but I did manage to get another pair of capri jeans cut out. (I only had 1.1m of fabric, about .25m shy of what I need for a full-length pair, I guess, and I didn’t want to patchwork in pieces of my other denim. This does, however, mean that I will still need another pair of full-length jeans for Self-Stitched September, because the wearability of capris in Alberta in September is dubious. Also I did laundry. Mounds and mounds of little-girl laundry.
My daughters, on the other hand (aside from passing through the house like a high-pitched whirlwind), did a lot of sewing. In particular, my oldest spent several hours sewing the younger one into a variety of costumes. Ok, perhaps sewing is a bit of a misnomer. There was a bit of lacing
involved, but mostly scissors. A lot of scissors. A lot of scraps that started out yesterday reasonably sized are… no longer. But, it kept them occupied and focused the destruction on reasonable targets, right? It says everything you need to know about our personalities that I started sewing for my barbies, while my oldest daughter has started sewing for a person.
The pink outfit is, as you may have guessed, made from the last few remnants of the pink poplin I made the twirly dress out of. The white is the most satisfying use of a wadder I can imagine. I had been meaning to try to salvage the bodice part of my Lydia Disaster, but really—watching it shredded by a 10-year-old deconstructionist is much more satisfying.
Also, the 10-year-old was wearing one of my RTW shirts all yesterday. It’s a bit loose on her whereas it’s snug on me, but still.