A few weeks ago, I started following
Stasia Savasuk on Instagram (if you don't already follow her, you should! She's great). She runs a style school through her
blog, and every six weeks or so, a group of women go through a course in style, but it is really about learning to love your body and accept your body while putting your best foot forward every day. Stasia is on Instagram almost every day, and she talks a lot about body issues, and acceptance, and I've gained a lot of insight from her. (One of her oft repeated mantras is: the problem is not your body, the problem is in the clothes. Fix it if you can, let it go if you can't). She recently gave a
Tedx talk and it is now on YouTube--I highly recommend it (but have a kleenex handy!)
I've said this myself for a long time, even talked about clothing companies and sizing, and issues with slopers--all that. I know why the clothes don't fit
intellectually--that the reason why clothing doesn't fit isn't because my body is wrong, it's because the clothes are wrong. But it is still hard not to take it personally.
When you make a lot of your own clothes, some of those lines get even blurrier. I made it, I fitted it, therefore, it should fit my body. It should feel like "me" on the inside. And when it doesn't, or it doesn't fit all day (ahem, separates), I get down on my body.
Why can't my body be the same size all day? Why does my middle have to get so thick after I eat anything? Why doesn't this skirt fit in the waist after being washed a few times? Why is this dress pulling at my hips when I sit down? Why do I have to carry most of my weight in my backside??
At some point this past year, my Dottie Angel frock style no longer matched my insides. For a few years, it did. I felt great in those dresses--like the best version of me. And then I didn't. And I'm still trying to figure out why and what does. Match my insides, that is. I make note of outfits that make me feel good, and keep those in regular rotation. For most the summer, that was separates. The reason why this matters, and why I keep banging on about it, is that the right clothing can take you through your days in a positive way. The wrong clothing can make an otherwise good day seem bad. I would rather show up for my life with a heavy dose of positivity!
I've been struggling a bit with my fall wardrobe, because I have a number of what Stasia would call Situation Clothing. She had a story one day about a sweater that made her feel awful, even though she really liked the garment, and it fit her well. As the day wore on, the arms of the sweater sagged at the elbows, they didn't stay pushed up to her preferred length, it just wasn't working with the activities for her day. She ended up spending most of the day focused on how much the sweater irritated her, and not on the other things she was doing. At the end of the day, she took the sweater off, washed it, and donated it without a second thought. I think she even changed into something else that didn't bug her so as to end her day on a positive note.

I've been thinking a lot about that, because I'm finding that those 10 pounds I gained last month are mostly sticking around and my gastroparesis is not in a happy place right now, so my middle expands and contracts a lot during the day. It doesn't affect the fit of my dresses very much, but it does affect my skirts. A lot. You might even say, I have A Situation.
Earlier this week, I took apart the waistband on my marigold linen skirt and remade it. The Petersham interfacing had shrunk during the past year of heavy wear, and had rolled in a weird way that made the front of the waistband look super schlumpy no matter how much I pressed it. The back elastics were also tight.
I pulled out the janky 1.5" Petersham, replaced it with 1" Petersham so the waistband won't roll, and put in 1" woven elastic in the back. No regrets.
My one moment of perplexity about this alteration was this: when I make an Everyday skirt as directed, with 1.5" petersham and the double channeled elastic in the back, I use 12" long braided elastic. Any longer and the waistband sags in the front, any shorter and it pulls uncomfortably in the front and back. When I swapped the elastics for a single 1" woven elastic (the kind used in every first skirt sewing project everywhere), I only need about 9.5". The channel is still exactly the same length, it is just shorter. And the 1" elastic is way more comfortable around my waist. I'm starting to think that 1/2" braided elastic isn't a great choice for garments because it is "hard-fitting" elastic, whereas knit or woven elastic (not braided) seems much kinder to the body). Note to self.

I had put it off and put it off, thinking that if I could just lose those pounds I gained last month, the skirt wouldn't annoy me so much, but I realized, I don't have time in my life for clothing that annoys me no matter the reason why. (Thank you, Stasia). I don't have time or emotional energy for clothing that causes A Situation. I don't want clothing that reminds me of its existence or makes me feel bad about my body. I want to feel good in my clothes, not have negative feedback from them.
So, with that in mind, remember this skirt?
Not too bad, but I really didn't like how it felt on me. The center box pleat did not behave well (the fabric wants to curl along the edge in a weird looking way. My olive linen skirt has a similar problem; I intend to fix it for next summer.
I pulled off the eggplant linen waistband, and unpicked the center front box pleat and turned it into 18th century style pleats as on the marigold linen. I changed out the 1.5" petersham for 1", and put the 1" woven elastic in the back and I'm MUCH happier with this skirt now.
This is my happy face:
I also made a skirt this month that I didn't blog that was clearly a Situation garment. (I haven't even blogged in yet). Actually, I made two skirts like that. One was the eggplant Birch rayon refashion that I wore twice and hated so much that it went to the donation pile almost immediately, and the second is this teal twill skirt:
 |
| this picture is true to color. |
You might remember the fabric from an ill-fated Frankendress I made a couple of winters ago. For some reason I had about five yards of this fabric, and so I had 2 generous yards left over after I made that dress, but I didn't know what to do with it once I stopped making pencil skirts. When I was making my fall rotation palette and planning sewing projects, I thought this skirt would be perfect for fall. I love teal generally, but it is particularly striking with fall shades. I was gifted a ridiculously expensive length of wool challis in fall shades, and it has this teal in the pattern. I have in mind to make a blouse out of it at some point, but I wanted to make the skirt first.

The twill was a poor choice for the pattern and the design decisions I made for it, as it ballooned out in the front in unflattering ways and didn't hang right. I had to smooth it down every time I moved, and felt slightly preggers in it. I was almost ready to put it in the donation bin (no regrets!) when I thought I should at least try the waistband alteration and see if that helps the fit.
I pulled off the waistband, turned the center box pleat into 18th century style pleats, and sewed it up again! Worked a treat. The skirt hangs ever so much better now, and I feel pretty good in it!
After that, I pulled out all my bins and did a bit of an overhaul of all my clothes. I decided that I want clothing in my rotations that I feel great when I put it on, not because it ticks a color box, or fits well, or goes with a lot of things. I thought of outfits I've worn this season that I thought: yes, this is a good one! and kept those. Anything that was negative or even neutral went away, either to store for later evaluation or to donate. I tried to think in terms of whole outfits rather than individual pieces, which was helpful. The process also clarified my winter rotation a bit as well, and identified some key holes that need filling and some other pieces that I don't need to make right now.
Now to sort my in-between seasonal shoes. Again. It is a perenniel problem: what to put on my feet when sandals are no longer appropriate, but it isn't quite time for tall boots and tights yet. Oh, and I can't wear junky shoes because of all the issues I have with my feet. The danskos only look good with tights, and the brown shoes above are okay, but not fabulous. I've got a couple of promising candidates. Watch this space.