Tuesday 24 May 2011

Hats off to the MOB

Yesterday we found ourselves on an epic mission.

You'd think a trip from Glasgow to Edinburgh couldn't be too dramatic. Well, you'd be wrong.

We made the journey for two reasons: 1. Postcards for Project Invitation (more on that at a later date). 2. To visit a lady about a hat.

The hat lady was very nice and, after several were on and off her head, my mum selected one that will be dyed and made to match her beautiful silk material. She's already started making her own dress (from a very nice Vogue pattern) and this hat, indeed, will be her crowning glory.

Unfortunately, little did we know we would make the trip in some pretty extreme weather. Trees were strewn across pavements. Rain and wind whipped across our faces. And trains - like the one we planned to take home - were suddenly cancelled.

We got back to Waverley Station to a wall of cancellation and reports that all rooms in the city had been booked up. It was looking grim. Fortunately there was light at the end of the tunnel - and for once we were glad that it was the headlamps of an oncoming train.

It ambled in to the station, all innocent, all "what do you mean the announcement immediately before this one said all trains were cancelled for the rest of the evening?". Home we finally arrived.


A couple of days before, we had finally embraced the power of The Overlocker.

Unlike our nice gentle sewing machines (not to be used, apparently, without shoes for fear of electrocution - according to overprotective mum) it makes a noise like this:

THUMPNEEEEEEEEEEHHHRRRRRRRRRRR
THUMPNAAAAAHRHREHHHRRRRRRRRRR
SHUGSHUGSHUGTHUMPNEHHHHHHRRRR

Which is somewhat alarming. However, we finally braved ourselves up and started overlocking the seams of the first bridesmaid dress. For Lynsay, it's a boatnecked, navy dress, which is really pretty. It's a fairly simple design, and there was only one small hitch - catching a little of the lining, which is not really what you want when there's a knife slicing off the odd ends of all your material. Oopsie. Duly patched up, the dress is well on its way to being completed.

Now that you can see one nearly done, it's much easier to imagine how the rest will come together. All we have to do is steel ourselves to the THUMPNHEEEERRRHHHRRRRRRRR and everything will be well.










Monday 9 May 2011

Always the bridesmaids.

I've been taking a couple of weeks off from The Dress again (hence no updates) because mum's off on holidays and we're still quite afraid of both the overlocker and cutting the silk. Don't worry, we'll get over it.

In order to gear myself up, I've been forging ahead with some bridesmaid dress action.

Donna and Lynsay have both had themselves measured up, so I made them go through the pinned up lining ordeal just as I did.

My mum being just a tad on the overprotective side (you should have seen our cycling helmets when we were wee. Laughingstock of the street), I often laugh when she is concerned about pricking me with the pins in such constructions - as there's really not much you can do about it other than wear a vest and hope for the best.

However I now truly understand, having had to put the pins near other people who I care about. It is quite scary to think how many times you could prick them and it does make you feel pretty bad. Sorry mum, shouldn't have been so sarcastic (although, the likelihood of that changing is pretty slim). After having experienced the terror myself, I can sympathise a bit more. I also found myself doing the thing I always find hilarious when mum does it which is playing with bits at the back of the dress and asking questions about it, despite the fact that the person inside the dress can't see at all what you are doing. Whoops.

Those two are progressing nicely - I've chopped out the lining and fabric and sewn both up - now they need a visit to the overlocker before being finished off. Which means buying a ton of thread given it takes four lots each time.

Otherwise, I've been trying to sort out their shoes. As with me, they'll be wearing red shoes, but we had a bit of an epic discussion over what shoes, from where, what about these, how about this, do you want heels, here are some flats, no you can't have glitter because I'm special, etc.

Things came to a head when I realised I was behaving like some shoe-seeking maniac, dragging C across shop floors and into hitherto unexplored territory (Garage shoes? Yeah, I know..) at a mere glimpse of red. I knew it had to stop. I made a list, and they've all very helpfully picked a pair. Unfortunately one of said pairs has already sold out in the right size. Sigh.