The theory - the plan - has changed since last time, thanks to the finished apron-dress's inconsistencies and my sister's input. To begin with, no wrapping: too much hussle for too little effect.
No square neckline; instead, I get this deep scoop that is teetering on the edge of what I find comfortable. My sister insisted, saying black would not look good on me too close to my face; she said it did not look good on me and did not look properly 50s until it reached this point. I guess she was right, it feels very properly Little Black Dress-y now; I only need to learn how to live with it.
The sleeves on these photos are not the final ones. I lost count of which sleeves are which; I only know which pattern is the correct one, because I folded away the previous ones. (It is possible, though, that I used the front from the pattern above on the final sleeve; the back is definitely different.) Also, the real dress will have shaped hems on the sleeves. I'd describe the shape, only I don't know how. So just wait and see, hopefully...
Deeper V in the back; many thanks to my sister for drawing it on the first muslin on me.
It's a pretty tight fit, although still with a bit of ease. The fabric I intend to use has elastan in it.
Things I'm learning:
a) Custom fit rules. I feel fabulous, and this is only a muslin made of an old torn duvet cover. Is it bad to feel fabulous in something I'm making myself? I hope not.
b) Sleeve cap ease is bogus. Pain to make, pain to make fit properly with a smooth design like this, and completely unnecessary. Last point proven, at the least, if you're working with a).
It will have a full, pleated skirt like my Dana skirt. The Dana skirt is still my favourite, worn almost all the time around the house, and still fun to do housechores in. Hopefully, the LBD I plan will combine this fun, comfortable aspect with the feeling of fabulousness I get from the bodice muslin.
I still cannot decide whether I want it to go with a sash or not.
The cat story:
Sunday afternoon, the atmosphere in our house became rather tense. That sort of thing happens. I did what I do in such situations when I'm wise in such situations (which does not always happen) and went for a walk. Or, rather, intended to go for a walk. I packed my camera and my mobile phone into my new camera bag (Christmas gift from my father, more on that sort of thing later) and left the house in the direction of the park and the cemetery, one of my favourite outings when I need to clear my head.
Only, I did not arrive there. I met a cat.
Cat seemed a bit hostile at first, but turned out to be very friendly. And Cuddly; she felt like a relative of our Kaksi The Jostling One, only she was bigger.
Besides, Cat had idiosyncracies of her own. She climbed down the vines and settled on my shoulder. Well, settled... that's saying too much. She did not settle. She kept changing her position (just like our Kaksi does) and poking her head into my hands so I could not help but to caress her (sort of like our Kaksi does) and went from one shoulder to another and back again, and completely refused to consider the fact I was a total stranger.
And she climbed on my head. (Good thing it was raining a bit and I had my hood on!)
I don't have a photo of Cat on my head. It is a difficult thing to take a photo of.
People kept going round me on their Sunday walks, and I stood there with a hood and a Cat on my head, laughing, because it was such a surreal and funny situation.
In the end, I succeeded in replacing Cat from my head on that columny thing next to the fence. Then I noticed the holes in the fence were very narrow and the vines thin, so that Cat might not be able to get back to her garden. So I heaved her up to the fence. She meowed her thanks (at least I think it's what her meow meant) and I went back home, feeling blessed.