The Quest for Perfection

Let me begin by saying that I don’t have the perfect body, though admittedly I have less of a complex than most. I am lengthy and slim, fit enough for someone who hasn’t seen the inside of a gym in years, with a metabolism that still works well enough that I don’t have to pick and choose what I can eat. At 31, I’m one of the lucky ones they say. The problem is they don’t have to dress this body. In the ever expanding size range of American fast fashion, there are those of us whom stores readily leave behind. What a disappointment it is to find a garment that fits your nonexistent bust, only to find the length too short for your lengthy frame. Worse still is to find a garment that somehow compliments your strange measurements, only to find the price tag too steep. This has been my unfortunate truth for as long as I can remember. Rarely have I experienced the pleasure that a well fitting garment can bring. Instead of being confident in the build others say I’m lucky to have, I‘ve conceded to drowning it in oversized tops that (at the very least) fall to my hips. Essentially, my closet is filled with men’s button down shirts and high waisted jeans. To look in my closet you’d never guess my appreciation of fashion. Beyond the girl who covers her body is a woman who longs for the fashion of days gone by, of clean simple lines and impeccable tailoring.

Two years ago, I decided it was time I let that woman make an appearance in my wardrobe, that I was finally at a point in my life when I was tired of hiding my figure, and that I too deserved to feel confidence in my dress. I plucked up the courage and bought my very first sewing machine. Then, in true consumerist fashion, I proceeded to buy all of the things; patterns from all the Big Four, countless yardage of fabric (mostly quilting cottons because of course I didn't know what I was doing), and notions galore. The way I pictured it I'd be an expert dressmaker in no time, sewing couture on par with Edith Head. Of course, I was wrong.

Instead of sewing the garments of my dreams, I found myself stuck in what felt like a never-ending cycle of quilt making and home décor sewing. I made all the usual beginner projects; baby blankets, cosmetic bags, pillowcases, and even a few handbags. Eventually, I got to the point when I felt that my whole motivation for becoming a seamstress had disappeared. In two years time, I had hardly managed to sew any garments and, admittedly, the clothes I did sew resulted in far more failures that successes. Edith Head indeed.

So here I am, still a novice dressmaker two years after starting this endeavor, honestly despising every article of my ready made wardrobe, and asking myself when am I finally going to get serious about garment sewing. The answer has to be now. It is at this point that I am committing myself to this journey in hopes that one day I'll have a wardrobe full of beautiful creations, ones that make me feel just as beautiful as they are. The journey starts now, dressmaking adventures await.

XOXO,

- The Dressmaker