Progress and cupcakes

When Mike and I visited my family in Pennsylvania a few weeks ago, Mom helped me buy a pattern, fabric and accessories for a pretty-looking sundress. I chose a pattern rather quickly (see left) but we spent about an hour running back and forth between various sections of the store trying to find the right combination of fabrics and colors. It turns out that I read the notions list incorrectly and had to visit a fabric store here in Portland but that was a great way to discover a resource for future projects. All told I have probably spent $30 on this project so as long as it ends up looking like a dress and is in the neighborhood of my size, I will consider it a good deal. (for the sake of sanity we're going to ignore how much my time might be worth).
It took me a solid three nights to prep: read directions, measure, figure out adjustments (I'm combining all three views to get a dress with non-spaghetti straps, a waist tie, shorter skirt and contrasting hem - and I'm two different sizes) and cut out all the pieces.

About to transfer markings to cut pieces with chalk

Cutting pieces is extremely boring work - you have to make sure the fabric is folded properly and determine the grain, lay everything out just right so you don't run out of fabric, pin the tissue paper to the fabric in a very specific way, cut out the right size, transfer all the markings from the paper to the fabric with chalk... at the end of it you're tired, sore, don't feel like you've done anything constructive yet, and your whole project has a chance of already being doomed. I consulted my 1990s Reader's Digest guide to sewing every step of the way. I learned that because of the design of the floral fabric that makes up most of the dress, I should probably take some measures to make the fabric match up properly (like you would with stripes or plaid), but that seemed a bit beyond my reckoning at this stage. Right off the bat my dress might look a little weird, but it's a calculated risk I was willing to take.

Oiling the machine

On day four I finally got to start pinning fabric to fabric and using the machine. I googled in vain for oiling instructions for my machine and ended up squirting a dot or two at random on the long-disused parts. I hope it doesn't catch fire or otherwise explode.
Finally! Sewing fabric to fabric at strategic junctures! It's incredibly satisfying to see the project grow as you progress through the instructions. That is, until you reach a point in the pattern (perhaps as early as Step 4 of 40) where the instructions assume a level of skill and jargon familiarity that you do not have. The helpful little illustrations no longer illuminate and you just stare at the words, occasionally flipping the fabric around in new ways trying to recreate the illustration but always somehow creating something akin to an unwearable knot. You read and re-read the instructions with various tempos and emphases ("open out center back lining and, with RIGHT sides together, sew entire center back seam in one continuous stitching." what?), each repetition joined by a new level of hatred in your voice. Eventually you might get so mad that you crumple the entire thing up into a ball and throw it on your pile of fabric, huffily cleaning up your sewing area and telling your husband you're going to bed. At 9:30.
That's just me? Well, if you do that, I recommend baking some apology/guilt cupcakes the next day when you've figured out Step 4 (thanks, Mom) and returned to sewing. Lemon with vanilla frosting seems to work well.
The dress currently looks more or less like a tank top. I'm happy to say that I have made it to step 10 without another violent, cursing incident. I think Mike is happy too.