Decoding the Mystery of the Pleats

I knew going in that this project was not going to be the easiest dress I have ever worked on.  And that is fabulous – I love challenging patterns - I wish that contemporary offerings were this involved and creative. 

But I am never prepared for the difficulties that arise from drafting mistakes.  Why do I always assume that pattern markings are correct?  As I have mentioned before, I expect instruction errors, but drafting errors make me feel like I am a complete newbie with no sewing skills whatsoever.

My first Ceil Chapman for Spadea design experience was somewhat similar.  The sleeve would not set-in properly.  I made it work, but still wondered what the heck I was missing.  Months later, I received an email from someone working with the same pattern who was having the very same issue.  Oh my goodness . . . it wasn’t me!  I am not a nincompoop!

But fast forward a couple of years, and I once again think that Spadea walks on water.  Not only that, Deirdre generously sent me this pattern to test and I was failing miserably.

The blue lines are the original markings on the Skirt Front.

So here is what happens if I follow the instructions:  crease on the solid line and bring fold to the dotted line to create a pleat.  What a mess.  Attempting to manipulate the fabric this way meant fighting the grainline, not to mention the jagged edge that was created would never match back to the bodice.  Aargh!!

Okay, let’s ignore that piece for the moment because I am feeling a wave of crankiness come upon me.

The Waist Front gets pleated and then basted to the Bodice Lining (which looks very much like a standard bodice).  Sounds easy.

The bottom pleat comes up, and the top pleat folds down.  

Crease the bottom solid line, bring it up to the dotted and suddenly all the jogs and curves disappear into the lower curve of an armhole and the side line of a bodice.  

Beautiful!  I’m on a roll now . . .

The top solid line is creased and pulled down to the . . . hold everything . . . this is not working at all.  What the &*%$!?!

Deep breaths . . .

In a perfect world, this piece is going to match back to a standard bodice, and I need at least a seam allowance worth of armhole to attach the sleeve.  (From reading ahead in the instructions, I know this is a standard set-in sleeve.)    

When I try to make it look like the diagrams, this is what I come up with – that looks a whole lot better!

Out of curiosity, I take a Sharpie and draw lines along the folded edges.  Remove the pins, open the piece, and what do I discover?  The original lines on the pattern pieces have only one point in common with the new fold lines, and this happens at the 5/8” seam allowance mark.  

Interesting . . . but rather confusing.

Time to get back to the skirt.

Obviously, the waist seam needs to match back to the bodice waist seam, which is basically a straight line.

If I ignore the lines except at the 5/8" mark and follow the upper edge, things start to improve.  The remaining portion that sticks up is folded downward until both raw edges match.  The newly created fold line is pushed back towards the remaining dotted line at the 5/8" mark.

Now I have an upper skirt edge that I can work with!

But I am not looking to decode one of Da Vinci’s diagrams when I work with a pattern – I want clarity!  I like to think that if I was given a vintage perforated pattern without any instructions, most days I could piece together a reasonable facsimile of the original.  If I was handed these particular pieces, I would have absolutely no clue on how to proceed.  But that is what diagrams and illustrations are for!

I cannot claim that this was the original intent of the design, but after studying the shading on the illustration, I think I came pretty close!

So while this part of the construction was extremely challenging, and a bit frustrating, I can honestly say it is the most fun I have had in quite some time now that I have cracked the code!  And the design is so worth the effort!

*P.S.  I have had a few questions recently about why I make muslins.  This is an excellent example of why they can be so essential to a project.  If I had cut into my wool and had to repeatedly manipulate the upper edge of the skirt to try to figure out what was happening, it would have made an awful mess and I might even have ruined the piece.  With a mock-up, I can make all sorts of marks, use contrasting thread that is easy to remove if a mistake is made, and I can always cut another piece at minimal cost if things really go sideways - not to mention the ability to fix errors that may be hiding within the pattern itself - because they just might exist!*