Most blogs have have cleaver sewing or costuming related names. One name that caught my attention early on was The Pragmatic Costumer. I consider myself a pragmatic person and actually wished I had thought of that name! Click this to read her Pragmatic Manifesto.
Well, some time passed and I came across an interesting blog praising the virtues and versitility of my really basic costume dress pattern #3723.
So, when I saw this blog all about this pilgrim/prairie pattern, I clicked on the link to read it and ... guess what? It was written by The Pragmatic Costumer! Click this to read it yourself. And for part 2 click this.
How could I not love this woman??
BTW, she gives good advise about the armhole.
So, I asked her to be a guest here on my blog and she said YES!
Sewing for me started off as a pitter-patter: making Halloween costumes out of household stuff with my mom (like a bathrobe angel when I was 5) and learning to hand sew (badly) so I could make clothes for my Barbies. I did a lot of costuming for theater and literature events, but most of that was thrifted/assembled rather than sewn to save time. When you take a lot of English Drama classes, you begin to realize how important clothes are to portraying a character properly. I was intrigued, but very intimidated and often discouraged because of the amount of nit-picking that goes on in the historical costuming arena. The "real" sewing didn't start until I got out of college and found myself at a new job in a new town without familiar faces, so I had a lot of freetime to fill. I still loved costumes, did research during breaks at work, and would go home wanting to copy what I had seen. So it began: as hobbled and ill-supplied as it was (the area I was living in had no fabric or craft store besides Walmart within a 100+ radius). So I guess you could say I dove in, though my method was more like a haphazard cannonball...
For my 8th grade Halloween costume, my mother very kindly sewed me my first bodice from Simplicity 0663, the Celtic Lady pattern, which I had been obsessing over for months. I wish I still had it! All I have left are angsty teen MySpace photos. Ah, memories.