Girly and Bitter: the Joy of Suck skirt
Is it okay to be mildly irritated that all this nice weather and foreign travel is really cutting into my sewing time?
Strasbourg was brilliant. It’s the mittel-European analogue of my American hometown: part well-heeled university town, part hicksville. (Up to and including dodgy mustaches, pickup trucks and local talent roaming the streets on tractors.) But because this is France, it’s also full of beautiful and lively public spaces, civilized bars and good restaurants. I got to eat one of these!
Strasbourg is also a cyclist’s paradise — honeycombed with safe, well-maintained cycle paths, endowed with a subsidized bike-hire scheme and consequently teeming with girls in fluttery dresses riding city cruisers and gentlemen in suits on sit-up-and-begs.
Save us from this socialist nightmare!
This made a nice change from London, where people make awfully heavy weather out of cycling, kitting up in hi-vis and lycra, going gung-ho with the toe clips and pounding the pedals with red-faced, joyless intensity.
Because I refuse to treat getting to work as an Exxxtreme Sport, I’m happy riding the defiantly unsporty contraption I call the ladybike — a hand-me-down Dawes pimped out by a former tank mechanic named Thor. It has upright handlebars, a basket homemade from a paint scuttle and, best of all, an onboard stereo for sexy tunes. (Kids! Riding in headphones is not recommended!) I try to make it clear to other road users that speed is not to be expected. And what better way to do this than by cycling in a skirt?
This skirt… wow. Therein lies a tale. This skirt just did not want to be made.
I bought the fabric — a to-die-for Kokka double gauze called Girly & Bitter — a year ago. I got serious, sweaty-palmed lust the instant I saw this fabric. How can you not love it? It’s got everything. A waist-to-hem border print… little birds… hand-drawn swags recalling the princess dresses I drew as a girl…
Candlesticks… scissors… parrots in top hats… milk jugs… bunnies…
Choosing a pattern appropriate to your fabric and vice versa is one of those many little sewing finesses you can only learn, it seems, through trial and error. Instead of being smart like this person and this person and using a really simple pattern to showcase the fabric, I decided, unwisely, to use Butterick 5029. The project tanked — it was a mediocre pattern, the style was unflattering and the design didn’t suit my fabric — so on to the Pile of Shame it went. Then, a month later, I took it out again and cut the dress down into a gathered skirt. For a bunch of reasons, mostly involving my inexplicable love of freestyling instead of actually thinking when confronted with sewing challenges, that didn’t work either. Back it went on the Pile of Shame. Then I tried a contour waistband. Back on the Pile. Then back out again. Etc. All the time the skirt getting smaller and smaller. I ought to have called it a day after Fail #4 … but I couldn’t.
Finally, one year later, I returned to Girly and Bitter for the last time. I decided to use what fabric remained to make the absolute simplest gathered skirt I could think of, with contour waistband. Even then it was like armwrestling with Beelzebub. Apart from the hand-rolled hem, every seam in this skirt has been sewn and ripped at least five times. It isn’t that the fabric was difficult to work with; on the contrary, that was what made my difficulties so infuriating. I kid you not: at some point during the many, many hours I spent wrestling with this fabric, I honestly Googled “girly and bitter curse”. Nothing came up. Unsurprisingly, the problem was me: my inability to pick a plan and stick to it, my passion for impulsive shortcuts and my total lack of design forethought. I cannot picture how something will look ahead of time — I have to try it, hack it up, restitch, try again, etc… which is why my projects get so many iterations that by the time I’m finished they tend to feel grubby and overworked.
I wonder a lot why I keep sewing when I’m obviously not particularly good at it. Part of the reason has to be that it is strangely, deeply satisfying for me to do something I’m not very good at, and nearly miraculous to feel myself getting slowly and painfully better. This is what I call “the joy of suck”. It’s a kind of torment, but it means I’m learning — not just acquiring new knowledge, but developing a completely different set of skills and abilities. Staying human.
This is a necessary battle to fight. If the angsty perfectionist in me had her way, my life would be a perfectly clean white room with nothing in it, except perhaps one perfect bowl of flowers. And like one of my favorite poets pointed out, this would not be enough.
Clear water in a brilliant bowl,
Pink and white carnations. The light
In the room more like a snowy air,
Reflecting snow. A newly-fallen snow
At the end of winter when afternoons return.
Pink and white carnations—one desires
So much more than that. The day itself
Is simplified: a bowl of white,
Cold, a cold porcelain, low and round,
With nothing more than the carnations there.Say even that this complete simplicity
Stripped one of all one’s torments, concealed
The evilly compounded, vital I
And made it fresh in a world of white,
A world of clear water, brilliant-edged,
Still one would want more, one would need more,
More than a world of white and snowy scents.There would still remain the never-resting mind,
So that one would want to escape, come back
To what had been so long composed.
The imperfect is our paradise.
Note that, in this bitterness, delight,
Since the imperfect is so hot in us,
Lies in flawed words and stubborn sounds.
Lessons learned:
- Matching pattern and fabric is half the battle.
- Make any design changes before cutting if possible.
- Pick a plan of action and stick to it.
- The imperfect is our paradise.
I swear I saw the bicycle photo three or four times before I realized!!! That was my first date movie!!! LOVED that movie. Loved Him, Loved Her, loved Robert!!
Now, about the dress…. My worst problem isn’t picking a plan and starting it and then changing my mind, it picking a plan and actually STARTING it. LOL with so many options I can’t pick one and go with it so I have fabric that sits and marinates for YEARS and sometimes it’s STILL sitting there waiting while I go buy fabric for quick and dirty clothes sewing.
I’m so glad you persevered and managed to make something wearable out of that beautiful fabric, it’s scary when the amount just gets smaller and smaller. I’m intrigued by your “joy of suck” theory. I’m the complete opposite – if it doesn’t come naturally, I quickly lose interest. It’s like chess – I’d love to be a great chess player but I’m actually quite hopeless at it, can’t think ahead, etc, and it frustrates me so much that I just can’t bring myself to suck at it until I improve. I’m sure that points to some deep character flaw in me, perhaps I should try embracing the “joy of suck”! Anyway, I love reading about your trials and tribulations with sewing, you write in such a lovely witty way.
I LOVE your bicycling style! But I’ve brushed against chains too often and spent hours scrubbing out grease – do you have a chain cover? Is that the answer?
I admire your dogged persistence with the beautiful fabric. I think I would have given up (I recently threw a skirt I made AWAY after having worn it for 2 years because I suddenly realized it was shorter in back than front – and today I was suddenly remorseful because I forgot to cut out and save the zipper. sighhhhh)
This ‘joy of suck’ idea is sort of amazing. I’m so terrible (for now!) at garment sewing, but I am not always good at focusing on enjoying the process and letting myself learn. I may end up rereading this next time I get too frustrated.
I actually quite often find myself pedaling away as fast as I can, usually while wearing skirts. The reason os not to break any record or get my daily exercise; it’s simply because I’m an incurable time-optimist, and wherever I’m going I’m always just a little bit late leaving home. It’s a personality flaw… I’m usually on time, but the bike goes fast on the way! Without lycra, of course =)
As for “the joy of sucking”, I’ve noticed that unless something holds a challenge for me I can’t get interested in it. I don’t just know how to dance, and certainly not how to sew, I’m learning the hard way. I’m glad there’s so much to learn, because that means I will keep at it for a long time. When I really know how to do something (or the next level is way too much work), I loose interest.
And it’s not just me, me and my fellow lindy hop instructors have noticed that the natural talents tend to only take one class, then loose interest. While some people who struggle with the basics for a long time in the beginning can really set their mind to learning it, prectice for ages, and in the end actually turn out as better dancers than the natural talents. I think it’s the same with sewing.
In the long run, it’s not natural disposition but interest, ambition and hard work, that makes someone great at what they do.
Glad to have you back at CCC, btw! =)
Your insight into natural talents versus those who struggle, overcome the challenge, and then become better than the naturals was very inspiring. I am a natural dancer, but sewing is a challenge for me. I have hundreds of tips and tutorials on my computer to help guide me along the process. Zippers are my biggest challenge at this point. I think the hurdle has been won, only to face problems once again. I just tried a lapped zipper and actually found it way easier by following several tutorials (one online — youtube & and the other one by Gertie). To make a long story short, I was up until 7 AM last Friday trying to finish a costume for my daughter who was going to be in a parade. It took me 4 hours and many tries to finally get something that resembled an inserted zipper, i.e., from a distance. If you were to look closely, you would discover I hadn’t done the bottom correctly, or the section connecting the bodice and waistband because I had to sew twill tape (a big piece) to keep the fabric (it was sewn from thrifted curtains) that kept fraying. All in all, I understand the suck of sewing. It makes my sewing skills improve, the rewards are wonderful, but the challenges are numerous.
Glad you had a good break. The skirt is gorgeous, well done on the perserverance. xxx
I love that poem – who wrote it? I also agree deeply with your ‘Joy of Suck’ theory AND all your comments re London cycling. I love cycling in a skirt and am constantly teased by my boyfriend about my slow cycling speed (he’s one of those freaks in lycra gunning it). I don’t care. ‘I like to take my exercise sitting down,’ I once commented to someone. Sitting down, in a skirt. That fabric is so beautiful and you did it justice in the end.
Your comments about biking made me laugh! Your bike rocks. I love how you are trying to project an anti-cyclist vibe. Hilarious.
The skirt is great. I can’t believe that you think you don’t make good projects. You’ve sewn fabulous pieces, even just in the past few posts. Your blog is a real inspiration to me, in fact. I love the pieces you put together!
Strangely, I had raclette for the first time in Borough Market last month! It *was* super yummy. I can only image how an authentic version is. So jealous.
Beautiful skirt, beautiful Strasbourg. You will get better at matching patterns to fabric. I wonder, are you a journey or destination person? The perfectionist must be a journey person, because the destination person will take shortcuts and make quick impulsive decisions. Perhaps they wrestle within you.
With matching fabrics to patterns, I think of it as a balancing act. The weirder the cut, the quieter the fabric. If I want to showcase the fabric, I choose a simple cut. The very tricky one is to use a medium cut and medium fabric without looking…. Medium.
Personally, I tend toward crazy fabric or more often a crazy cut because I’m not so good at “pulling off” the middle ground.
I don’t understand when people feel that getting to work on their bikes is a race. I like to ride at a leisurely pace and not arrive overheated and out of breath. I just started riding my bike to work in skirts and dresses but it has been somewhat problematic. I have to ask, have you found that a certain length and/or style of skirt has less potential for showing off more than would be appropriate? I’ve started wearing bike shorts under my skirts but I’d love to not have to. Any suggestions?
It’s funny you should ask — after my experience in Strasbourg I’ve decided it has a lot to do with the bike. My bike at home in London used to be a standard drop-handle 10-speed (although I’ve swapped the handlebars for more upright ones), so my posture when I’m riding it is fairly erect and forward, with my weight on my arms and my legs nearly straight down under me. I have never had skirt problems with this bike.
The bike I rented in Strasbourg, on the other hand, was a cruiser with a seat that was lower and further back, meaning my legs were extended out more in front of me when I pedaled. This posture plus a fluttery dirndl led to some nearly calamitous “mission creep”! I put on a slip underneath and had no further problems. Maybe some Colette Patterns bloomers might do the trick as well?
That fabric is to die for, and deserved to see the light of day! Having seen your more complicated creations I wouldn’t say you’re “not particularly good” at it. It’s probably your perfectionism more than anything else. And I agree, part of being alive is doing things that are hard and imperfect.
Definitely. Mind you, as impatient as I am, I’m one of those obsessive types that must have the ENTIRE thing planned out–to the last detail. Because I spend so much time planning it out, things go fairly well, but it means I get extremely irritable when there is a hitch. I mean, after all that forethought, how DARE things go wrong? I then have to let the project sit in a corner for a while until I cool down.
This skirt is a fighter, it was destined to live and see the sunshine! And I bet you still feel that same surge of happiness now whenever you wear it, just like the first time you saw it.
You certainly made a beautiful and thought-provoking blog entry out of your travails with the skirt, at least! I think life wouldn’t be worth much if we all stuck to doing things we were already good at…hard to remember that sometimes, though. Love the final product, anyway – that fabric is so cute.
And I’m a huge Wallace Stevens fan, as well.
Love the skirt indeed! I’m guessing that cruiser bikes have not yet become fashionable in London, but maybe they will? They are really popular here and seem made for a nice leisurely ride in a skirt.
I call my Crap Scrap. But, the skirt really turned out well and that material is so cute. Bicycling in a skirt is the only way to go.
I think even the most experienced seamstress has had these sorts of projects before: recalcitrant designs that go through multiple changes/rip-outs/sewing pile banishment before either a.)relegating the fabric to something or b.) giving up entirely. At least you finally conquered the skirt and made it work! I certainly have had my fair share of those sorts of things, one quite recently actually (the pattern I used was a complete and total failure, no matter how hard I tried to make it fit!). It ended up in the trash, because I got sick of dealing with it.
I have to say though, struggles aside, the skirt is really pretty!
♥ Casey
blog | elegantmusings.com
Welcome back! Strasbourg sounds amazing! I absolutely loved this post and the poem is amazing! I love the skirt and think it looks great!
This is the second reason why I appreciate learning garment sewing as a teen (the first is having someone to ask questions to and bail me out right under the same roof
) – while the social stigma of wearing things different than my peers could sometimes be excruciating, I didn’t have the standards I do now about how things should look/fit/behave/be finished. By the time I got to where I am now, I do have the ability to give a reasonable stab at mentally picturing how a fabric is going to work up.
Not that that saves me from wadders – I’m in the midst of pulling out of the closet the clothes I made last year, but never really wore. Some of that could be lack of self-knowledge more than lack of sewing knowledge (what, I don’t wear huge swaths of intense colour? who knew?). And I’m pretty sure the fabric we picked up for DH’s shirts is going to be a bit on the heavy side compared to RTW (sigh, what can you do with local shirting options?).
Ah, stuff it all. It’s fun! We may not end up where we intend to go, but that’s part of the excitement of the journey! And I think your journey ended up in a very good place indeed – love the skirt!!