I have sewn many things over the past fifteen years of my life. Some of them were even rather complicated, like a fully-lined reversible child’s coat, and a blessing gown hand-pieced with heirloom sewing techniques. I’ve made a bunch of other stuff, too, but never to shirt for myself. I was terrified of having to fit anything as complicated as the adult female body. No more! My sister passed on a blouse pattern the other day. I thought it looked pretty easy and was worth a try.
Everything was going well, with quick fittings after virtually ever seam. I was excited. I sewed in my first sleeve. It was beautiful – perfectly sewn in. As soon as I put the shirt on it became frustratingly obvious that my upper arms are larger than the average female my size. Curses! I wanted to cry! I wanted to quit! I wanted to burn my one-sleeved blouse! So I threw the nasty thing on my work table, turned out the light and walked downstairs with my poor, bewildered husband trailing behind wandering what on earth was going on.
I was grumpy for the rest of the night, but when I awoke the sun shined in my soul and I had a solution! A cap sleeve would accommodate my less-than-slender arms. Yippee!! Run to the studio. Measure, trace, pin, snip, baste, gather, set, sew. And . . .
Does the term “euphoria” mean anything to you?