I’ve come to a recent revelation that I’ve gotten fat. ?Of course fat is pretty relative. ?Let’s just say that, for me, I’ve gotten fat. ?I used to be verging on the edge of size 4. ?In the 3 years since I’ve started eating again, or otherwise known as I’ve become a parent, I’ve grown to a healthy size 10. ?40 pound my friends, 40 pounds. ?Where does that weight go? My ass.
Trouble is, my entire wardrobe was purchased way back in the day when I had money. ?Meaning, before I had a child. ?Now that my ass is the size of Rhode Island I have approximately 4 pair of pants that fit. ?Ok, 5, but that would mean that I have to actually dry clean that 5th pair instead of ignoring them in the bottom of my hamper.
The answer to this problem seems simple. ?I have 2 options really. ?Option #1, buy new pants. ?Option #2, exercise to fit into the pants that I currently own. ?However, I like to do things the difficult way and I went with Option #3. ?Make new clothes. ?Hey, I have a sewing machine and have made a few things here and there*. ?How hard could it be?
So the other day I set out to find a few patterns and some fabric. ?I spent a good 2 child free hours in the fabric store the other morning and purchased 2 patterns (with multiple patterns and sizes in them) and coordinating fabric to make a few separates. ?My intention was to make 2 blouses, 1 skirt and a pair of pants. ?What I failed to do was measure myself prior to leaving the house. ?I looked at the patterns and instead of looking at the measurements I went by size. ?As I mentioned before I fit nicely into a size 10, and I’m ok with that. ?I purchased my patterns accordingly. ?This is where things went drastically downhill.
My first attempt at clothes making was going to go to Simplicity Pattern #2764 look B. ?The blouse. ?I read the back of the envelope and nearly died when my bust measurement didn’t even register on the scale for the pattern I purchased. ?Truly I needed the next pattern up. ?I thought I’d trick the pattern makers and instead of cutting the pattern apart I traced the pattern onto a new sheet of tissue paper so I could later reuse the pattern for additional blouses or the jacket. ?I was thinking. ?I also thought that since my bust was larger than the largest pattern indicated that I would just make the largest size to be safe. ?In fact that sentence should have said, I got back in the car and exchanged the pattern for a bigger size. ?Not so much.
I spent 2 days working on a blouse in a beautiful soft red silk. ?I put in an invisible zipper. ?I had to totally tear out a sleeve because I sewed it backwards. ?I worked on it for 2 days. ?Yesterday afternoon I tried it on to measure for the hem and damn it if I could barely get the thing on. ?I wanted to cry. ?What was worse… I could barely get it off. ?It was so damn discouraging.
The thing that kills me is that I wasted money on the pattern (which I cannot return because I used highlighter on the instructions and envelope) and the fabric. ?I hate wasting money. ?There is something to be said for going to the store and walking out with clothing that mostly fits.
I simply don’t understand why pattern makers insist on putting “sizes” on things. ?Why not just put the measurements? ?Because let’s face it. ?If I am going to make the pants from the other pattern I need a 22W for them to fit right. ?If I went into a store and purchased a size 22W pants you could fit 2 of me in there. ?Why doesn’t it match? ?Is it that pattern makers want to make us feel terrible or that clothing manufacturers want to blow smoke up our asses to make us feel good. ?I would put money on the latter.
I’m trying to get over the size thing. ?It’s just a number and as long as the clothing fits what’s the difference?
So it is off to the fabric store again tomorrow. ?Wish me luck.
*I made the bee costume the boy is wearing in that main photo