Alright, so I got this idea in my head, you know? I thought, “I’m gonna make a simple Victorian dress!” Seemed like a fun little project. I’d seen a few online, and they looked, well, manageable. Famous last words, right?
Getting Started – Or So I Thought
First things first, I needed a pattern. I wasn’t about to draft one myself, no way. I’m not that brave. So I found one that literally had “simple” in its name. Big mistake. “Simple” for who, I wonder? Someone with ten hands and a degree in historical tailoring? Anyway, I got it, printed it out – which was a whole saga of taping A4 sheets together – and felt pretty pleased with myself.
Then came the fabric. I wanted something authentic-ish but not break-the-bank expensive. I ended up at this fabric store, you know the kind, bolts and bolts of stuff, makes your head spin. I spent, and I am not kidding, two hours just wandering. Finally picked a cotton print, sort of a muted floral. Looked good on the bolt. Less good when I realized how much of it I actually needed for a Victorian skirt. My wallet cried a little.
The “Simple” Process Unravels
Cutting the fabric was okay. Tedious, but okay. I laid it all out on my living room floor, much to the annoyance of everyone else in the house. My back was killing me by the end of it. Then the actual sewing began.
The pattern instructions went something like this:
- Sew seam A to B.
- Attach piece C to D.
- Magically create a perfectly fitted bodice.
Okay, maybe not that last one, but it felt like it. The bodice was the real beast. Darts, interfacing, trying to get it to fit without looking like a lumpy sack. I swear, I unpicked seams more times than I actually sewed them. So much for “simple.” I was starting to think this dress had a personal vendetta against me.
And sleeves! Don’t even get me started on setting in Victorian-style sleeves. They have this poof at the shoulder, right? Getting that poof to look like a deliberate design choice and not like I just messed up was… an experience. I definitely had a few moments where I just wanted to throw the whole thing in the bin.
Life Happens, Dress Gets Sidelined
Then, you know, life just sort of happened. I was all fired up to finish it in a week or two, but then my cousin announced she was getting married, like, super last minute. So, everything dress-related got shoved into a box because suddenly I was on bridesmaid duty, which involved a completely different, much less historically interesting dress. That whole thing was a whirlwind. Finding shoes, fittings, the bachelorette party planning – it just took over.
After the wedding dust settled, I looked at that box with the half-finished Victorian dress and just sighed. My sewing mojo was gone. It sat there for, oh, a good couple of months. I’d walk past it, feel a little guilty, and then go watch TV instead. We’ve all been there, right?
Finally Finishing the Beast
One rainy Saturday, I just decided, “Okay, that’s it. I’m finishing this thing.” I think I was just tired of it cluttering up my craft corner. So, I dragged it all out again. Surprisingly, picking it back up wasn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe the break helped. I tackled the skirt, which was mostly gathering, miles and miles of gathering. My fingers were raw.
Attaching the skirt to the bodice was another moment of holding my breath. But it worked! Ish. Then it was just the closures – buttons, lots of tiny buttons. And a bit of lace trim I decided to add at the last minute because, why not? If it wasn’t going to be simple, it might as well be a bit fancy.
So, yeah. It’s done. It’s definitely a dress. It even sort of looks Victorian. Is it “simple”? Absolutely not. Would I make another one? Ask me in a year, when I’ve forgotten the pain. For now, I’m just glad it’s off my to-do list and I can say I actually made a Victorian dress, simple or not!
