At the end of the summer, Oliver + S had a sale, so I sat at my laptop with my daughter and had her pick out a couple of patterns. She chose two, and said she’d like me to make this one, the Music Box Jumper, first. While it’s rated lowest in difficulty by Oliver + S, I disagree. It was going to be a skill-building pattern for me, and I’ve been sewing for more than seven years now. So when the pattern arrived, it sat. I ordered fabric for it (Lizzy House Chasing Butterflies in Forget Me Not), and still, it sat. I sewed many, many other things, organized my fabric a few weeks ago, and decided it couldn’t sit any longer.
I had not done a yoke with facing before this.
I hadn’t done pleats, at least, not carefully measured box pleats and such. I’ve gathered skirts to a shirt to make a dress, but that’s not quite the same.
I have sewn French seams before, and I used them on the skirt of this dress, because after hiding everything in that yoke and facing, why leave any raw edges in the skirt? I had not, however, made buttonholes on my machine. I practiced, a lot. For days. The dress was in a holding pattern until the kids went back to school after a week of snow days and I could fully concentrate on those darn buttonholes. Red Panda (who gets lonely in my son’s room while he’s at school) lent his support.
A view of the back of the dress, with six, count ’em six, buttonholes and buttons.
And another closer view of some of the buttons because BUTTONHOLES.
My daughter, at this point, mistakenly believes it’s just the normal thing, to have most of your clothes made by your mother, out of fabric and patterns you chose. Having her is a handy excuse, I guess. Look at the skills I’m gaining by sewing for her!