It all started innocently enough. A chemisette was sewn, and then another, because surely Hattie would need several. One was allocated for a summer jumper outfit, and one for the fall.
And then I had a change of heart, about what the fall chemisette would be worn under, and I set it aside as a question for another day.
A nagging question.
Meanwhile, we arrived at my favorite time of year – football season. With hours of TV stretching out before me, I carried books of inspirational doll photos downstairs and planted myself on the sofa. Where somehow, one thing lead to another and I found myself, quite unexpectedly, stitching an antique lace breakfast cap.
The lace’s blue edges would go nicely with the blue gingham robe I was planning. This was my vague justification for the project. Until I did some research and discovered breakfast caps weren’t worn with robes. Ever. Because eating in one’s robe was considered a slovenly sign of poor character.
And just like that, I had a problem.
Hattie needed a morning dress now, and it had to match the already stitched cap. It should be made of sturdy stuff – calico or linen, for example – because morning dresses weren’t fancy. Lace might be allowed, but not silk. Not for a child.
Off I went to my fabric drawers where finding something to match Hattie’s blue-edged cap proved harder than expected. I lost count of the cups of coffee consumed as I dug for just the right thing. I finally chose a blue cotton/linen plaid and set to work on a new plan. I could kill two birds with one stone by making a dress which both matched the breakfast cap and made use of the fall chemisette.
I was quite proud of my cleverness.
Until we tried the finished dress on and it went over the chemisette in much the same way a sausage casing “goes over” everything stuffed inside of it. Hattie’s poor little arms looked like king sized pillows in twin sized shams.
“Argh!” I said.
(That is not what I said. I can’t say what I really said, but I can tell you it was preceded by a noise akin to a cat vomiting up a hairball).
I couldn’t possibly make Hattie wear such a thing, no matter how much effort I’d put into it. But without the chemisette, the dress left her chemise and upper cloth arms exposed. Which meant I still had a blue-edged cap problem. And a nothing-to-wear-over-it chemisette problem. In addition to the new hopeless-wreck-of-a-dress problem.
This, I wanted to scream, is exactly why we do the research first. BEFORE we make useless blue-edged caps, which cause us to make equally useless dresses. Which fail as a covering for chemisettes and require the sewing of additional, chemisette covering dresses!
Hattie got her plaid-trimmed jumper next. And a hat to match it.
And then eventually, I found some lace to go with the blue plaid fabric. It filled the gaps and covered Hattie’s private bits well enough that we took some nice pictures in the breakfast room (which will be over HERE as soon as they’re edited).
As for me, I’m sitting in my robe, slovenly as can be, sipping wine and nursing my wounds.
And wondering why I ever bought blue-edged lace in the first place.
To follow along with all of Hattie’s wardrobe creation, click right HERE.
And for just her blue plaid morning dress project, click HERE.