How much must I hate myself? Let me count the ways . . .
It would be funny, really, if not for the angst it causes. I’m speaking of that subconscious place which drives me to make ridiculous fabric choices. Because today, I’ve been working on Maddie’s chemisette and my fabric is antique French something-or-other that’s sheer enough to read through, and reminds me of gauze bandages.
You won’t be surprised to hear I’m trying to pleat this. Which isn’t the craziest idea I’ve ever had, but it’s up there.
I had in mind the blouse of my Jumeau fashion lady, which has always looked like a tiny miracle to me. Its front features what I remembered as dainty 1/4″ pleats – and I wanted Maddie’s chemisette to be likewise pleated.
Well.
After carefully stitching a few of these into a scrap of my nightmare fabric, I was so unhappy, I nearly went back to bed. Of course, the problem was completely predictable. Trying to stitch fabric with the consistency of cheesecloth – into neat folds – is a special kind of madness.
I nearly cried.
Because I know for a fact that chemisettes were sometimes made from this sort of cotton. And it frustrated me to no end that I couldn’t figure out how seamstresses of yore did it. They must have been magicians!
Pouting and coffee drinking ensued in earnest. Until a hazy memory drifted to the surface. At some point earlier this year, I’d been watching and reading everything I could get my hands on, in an effort to improve my scallops embroidery. I remembered one of the elderly British ladies on YouTube insisting the fabric must be starched before embroidering it. And before giving up on scallops, I’d ordered some.
I never used it, but I still had it!
Right there in my cupboard was the simple solution to a huge problem. I sprayed my awful fabric, and pressed it, and . . . all I can say is WOW! It’s so well-behaved now! It’s just faintly crisp (not stiff, as I’d feared it might be) and as an added bonus it smells delightful.
Sadly, the next test of my 1/4″ pleats – while much straighter on my newly wonderful fabric – left me feeling very “ho-hum”. They just looked too . . . something.
I couldn’t put my finger on why I was unimpressed. All I could imagine was that I must have gotten the size wrong. It was time for more coffee, and a stepstool so I could reach down my Jumeau doll. I needed a visit with her beautiful blouse, to lift my spirits if nothing else.
There it was, in all its sweet perfection. It sent my heart pitter pattering, just as it always does. Although it took mere milliseconds to realize its pleats are neither 1/8″ nor 1/4″.
And that’s when it finally hit me.
French seamstresses of yore would never have debated between 1/8″ and 1/4″ pleats – never ever. And why is this? Because the French – and nearly everyone else in the world – use the metric system (it was adopted by the French government in 1795 and became mandatory for all in 1840).
I ran for my small ruler and finally measured my beloved Jumeau pleats and guess what? They’re exactly 4mm wide.
And now I was onto something.
Prior to starting Maddie’s chemisette, I’d been looking at an old issue of Antique Doll Collector magazine – the one where Sylvia Mac Neil had done an article about chemisettes. It included a chemisette pattern, which I didn’t bother trying because the style was wrong for my project. And also because it looked a bit “off” to me for some reason – too small for Maddie, even though it’s meant for a 15-16″ doll.
I dug out the magazine again, and realized it was the seam allowances making Sylvia’s pattern look strange to me – as if it needed enlarging.
Can you guess where I’m headed with this?
Sure enough – I measured them – and they’re precisely 4mm.
I certainly don’t have enough information to conclude that 4mm to the French is the equivalent in doll sewing to our 1/4″. But, armed with a new appreciation for the metric system, I replaced the 1/4″ pleats on Maddie’s chemisette with 4mm ones, then promptly stitched it up. And while they do not make my heart beat faster, they definitely make me happier.
So there you have it.
The magical solutions to my problems were found in the unlikeliest of places: a bottle of starch and the “wrong” side of my ruler.
To follow along with Maddie’s Almost Spring Dress project, click HERE.
To see all of her wardrobe so far, click HERE.