I made a Victorian dress!

I'm back - but what a way to return, eh? I cannot tell you how pleased I am with the results of this sewing project.

Let's go back to the beginning: a couple of my friends ran a steampunk event called Waltz On The Wye in 2011 and 2012. (I definitely did posts on the events, though whether the images survived the Great Google Image-Eating Disaster is another thing.) They decided that they'd run a smaller-scale one, Return To The Wye, this year. I decided to go, but wasn't 100% sure about costuming. I used to wear a bought Victorian-style dress to steampunk events, but thanks to weight gain in recent years (thanks, lockdown...) there was no way that dress would still be an option.

'I know,' I thought, 'I'll make one.'

I looked around at all sorts of patterns, trying to fine one that didn't look too complex, and also came in fatgirl sizes. I settled on Burda 7880, which appeared to do the job.

It arrived. It did not go up to my size. I needed at least an extra four inches for my bust. However, I have a fairly narrow skeleton and store my weight on the front, so the shoulders of the largest size would fit. The bodice pattern is quite complex, with eight panels across the front - two sets of four, mirrored - to create the smoothly curving shape, so my usual Full Bust Adjustment wasn't going to work here.

What I did was make a mockup of the largest size bodice (no sleeves) from an old duvet cover, with proper seam allowances and everything, and then slashed the seams at the front along the stress points, so they opened up as much as they needed to when I put it on. While I was wearing the mockup, I stuck strips of paper across the gaps - this enabled me to see how much extra fabric was needed at each point. I then took it off, carefully cut the paper strips in half vertically, and undid all the seams properly. I returned to the original pattern pieces and cut the seam allowance off, stuck the paper tabs in the right places, and then put the seam allowance back on. Voila, resized pattern. After that I just had to make the real thing. In the end it still didn't quite fit, so I also whacked a button band on the front, but all in all I'm pleased with it.

The black fabric is Minerva's cheapest polyester taffeta, because I didn't want to spend a fortune on something I'd only wear for a few hours. The Morris print cost a bit more; that was from Dalston Mills. But I didn't mind spending on that, because it's in large flat panels that I plan to recycle into a summer top for myself. 

Does my bum look big in this?

The other issue with the pattern was the bustling. How it hooks up makes no sense at all. The place where the overskirt needs to be gathered is clear enough, but I could not see where it was supposed to hook up to the underskirt, and whatever curtain tape they were referring to in the pattern instructions must be something particularly German because I didn't have a clue, and I couldn't find much online that was any help. I ended up going to the ironmongers and buying the hooks used for hanging curtains, plus the 'loop' things that go on curtain tracks. I gathered the overskirt bits manually and attached curtain hooks, then stitched six of the loop things to the back of my skirt and joined the two. It was for a few hours only, and did the job. I literally finished it the morning we went to Wales.

Usually I'm a real perfectionist about my sewing, but this was a costume and I wasn't going to keep it. Ironically, then, I was really proud of my topstitching on the bodice seams! The underskirt, however, was appallingly slapdash and that was okay. I learned a lot from doing this - that I can tackle complex projects. That getting the job done can be as rewarding as doing a thing perfectly. And also that I suck at sewing to a deadline and next time I want a dress for a big event I should just pony up the cash...