My heart is racing, I’m out of breath, and my torso is strangely constricted.
I’ve been a-sewing.
Warning: If you don’t like Hollywood blood and/or you’re under 12 years old, this is probably not the blog entry for you.
Many years ago, I acquired this shirt due to winning the youth section of the Sisters in Crime Scarlet Stiletto awards (you can read the story if you don’t mind blood, murder, and terrible formatting – it’s at http://home.vicnet.net.au/~sincoz/stories02/death.htm). The other story I mention in the video (again, blood and murder and so on) is at http://felicitybloomfield.wordpress.com/2010/08/12/murder-story/. Both are under the name “Felicity Bloomfield” because they’re not child-safe.
I’d have preferred a shirt in my size, but that’s just not the way it works in this mixed-up world. Today’s awesomeness was suggested by Steff Metal, who as a metal chick is constantly forced to wear the XL shirts female metal fans are so often reduced to. So Steff, this one’s for you.
I’ve cut the boring bits from the video, but didn’t stop the timer. That whole adjustment really did take exactly five minutes, including putting it on at the end – and cutting off all the dangling threads.
For those of you who either don’t have video, lack psychic powers, and/or genuinely want to try this, here’s how.
You need:
1. A fully threaded-up sewing machine (with long dangling threads at the needle every time you start a new seam). Alternatively, try hiring a roomful of seven-year olds. I hear they’re good at this sort of thing.*
2. A good pair of scissors – ideally fabric scissors, but seams hide all manner of sins.
Here’s what you do:
1. Lay the T-shirt flat on a table and cut off large chunks from each side, including the entire sleeves (I realised later that it might have been good to allow a teensy bit extra for my womanly curves). These are the bits I cut off (the pins are strictly decorative – I almost never use pins or measurements, and I don’t own an iron):
2. To make a sleeve, pick a spot along the recently-cut line that’s roughly where your armpit should eventually be. Fold the material over along that edge and sew the fold in place (that’s your seam). You need to fold it so the rough edge is inside the shirt, and sew upward from your armpit, past the top seam, and about the same length down the other side (make the sleeves big, because you can always make them smaller later).
3. When you’ve done two sleeves (and the shirt is flapping open like a poncho), turn the shirt inside out and sew along the sides from the bottom end of the shirt to the armpit spot (your sleeve sewing and side sewing will overlap). Your aim is for the shirt to end up closed and the arm-holes open. When you start your side seams from the bottom edge, you know it’ll at least appear to match up. In the video, I did one whole side before starting on the second sleeve, and I’m pretty sure I failed to begin from the bottom of the shirt, too.
4. Cut off all the dangling threads. Warning: do not cut off your fingers. Fingers are useful.
5. Your XL T-shirt is now a S/XS/M tank top. Congratulations. Advanced players, unlike me, will end up with a shirt in the correct size, rather than the too-small variety. Ah well.
Alternative ending – a piece I’ve entitled, “Oops. Was that meant to happen?” or, “Boy, those scissors sure are sharp.”
Play along at home: Hey kids! Ask an adult for help before slicing up your wardrobe (or theirs).
And here’s today’s entirely unadjusted rainforest picture, from Flickr.com:
* But you may not want to give them sharp objects. Your call.
Looks much better now. The larger version was more than a little meh.
Thanks w. It may not have gone precisely to plan (my sewing never does) but it’s certainly better than before.
Looking awesome! The stiletto on that shirt is actually really cool, and I think it looks great! One day I shall have a sewing machine and some actual sewing skills (my fingers always end up looking more like your hand) and I will be able to do this too, instead of making my talented sewing friends do it for me 🙂
Steff: Yeah. . . sewing skills would be good.
*Faints from the realism of it all*
Ben: That penultimate pic was definitely the funnest part.
Wow!!!!! What are those things on your chest? I’ve never seen those before!!!! 😛
Ann. . . I. . . am absolutely speechless. Thank you for making me laugh so hard before breakfast.
That was cool, man! I wanna do that now! 😀 And it looks waaaaaaaay better! 😀
And your husband’s voice sounds like like my brother’s, Josh Crispin, but cooler and deeper. I think he was part of your bubbles thing.
Georgia: Josh Crispin is your brother?!? He was there (along with two other Crispin boys) but I know every member of their immediate family. Are you using an alias? I think my friend Cupcake was filming.
Lol! Everyone gets confused with that. He’s my BRO, a bestie who’s like family, you know? Sorry about the confusion.
As for aliases, I have at least a dozen… three cheers for too many nicknames! XD
Who’s Cupcake? One of my friends is Suicidal Cannibal Cukcake Muffin, but she’s in America and I don’t think they’re the same person…
Georgia: Ahhh.
Cupcake is a boy. His initials are C.M. I don’t think there’s any reason you’d know him (other than living in Canberra, that is).
@ Louise: Lol, yeah. That was a funny reaction 🙂
Ah, ok. Definitely not my friend, then 😛 But he could be, if he’s awesome and you introduce me to him at some point in time and space.
Georgia: In Canberra, you’ll probably meet VERY soon if you haven’t already.
@ Louise: True. Cattle stations are like that…
Georgia: It turned out that the people who run the horseriding place we went to are sharing their house with a man that CJ works with (via the magic of remote work stuff in the public service)!! They actually knew each other. Australia is silly like that.
@ Louise: Wow, man. It’s a small world and it’s getting smaller, ey? Maybe the world will end by the planet getting to small and everyone runs out of room. Could happen, you know.
And yes, Australia is silly. But in the way you mentioned, it’s cool and is siding with the social people.