Once again, I’m playing catch-up.  I’m getting used to the blog thing and got completely derailed last week in everything by a Neverending Sinus/Respiratory Thing.  I’m still pretty much voiceless–I sound like a broken squeak toy, which is frustrating to me, and adorable to Mr. Windows.

I did get some sewing done weekend before last, before I became a human repository for tea with honey, Sudafed, and ibuprofen.  The good news, I was productive, cranking out not just one, but two Colette patterns, and getting started on something more exciting–an evening dress for an Art Deco event I’m going to in a couple of weeks.  The bad news, I’m pretty meh about both of the things I finished.  The first, the Macaron, is below–I forged ahead with a bad mirror shot since I’m not that excited about it, and if I put this off any longer I won’t get it done.  (I’ll deal with the Sorbetto tomorrow.)

I should say, I adore the Macaron, and everything I don’t like about this version is entirely my fault. It’s a good pattern gone wrong thanks to some changes on my part and bad fabric.  I lengthened and straightened the sleeves, which I will do again if I don’t want to have a lined sleeve.  (Or, there’s this cute sleeve variation by Lazy Stitching.) I lengthened the skirt as well, which isn’t a bad thing in itself, I’ve successfully done that before.  The problem is that I unpegged the skirt as I lengthened it removing the nice taper to the Macaron as its drafted, which changed it from nicely curvy to super widening on me.  I might even make the skirt in a smaller size next time–the top of the pattern is very fitted, but the skirt is quite loose.

The other problem here is the acrylic tweed I found diving in my stash.  It wants to ravel very badly and doesn’t want to stay on grain.  I had high hopes for better construction techniques, but ended up running all the pieces through the serger as quickly as I could so they would stay together.

I still like the Spring-ness of the pastel colors, but I’m seriously thinking this is going straight to the donation box.  Maybe I’ll feel differently when the cold meds wear off.

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