... Is very gold

Let me explain what's going on here:
a)    This is the front skirt. At least, the thin wedge is. The stretched hexagon it's attached to is the ruched waistband
b)    Lining for the ruched front
c)    Back skirt
d)    Ruched front
e)    Unruched front
f )    Back

Everything is angled for bias, which gets a bit awkward once you've corrupted a pattern so much the grainline is more of a grain-angle.

The semi-circle is only there as a guide for the moment. I had done a test layout of the circles and estimated that they might take 8m which suddenly made my generous 10m of chiffon look positively constricting. The line across the fabric is marking out the 2m point so I didn't go much past it. My estimate ended up being exaggerated, so fear not, I didn't run out of fabric at this time.

I sewed the dress together before cutting the circle just in case something went wrong and I needed to re-cut a piece or two, because, if I really needed to, I could probably manage with slightly less than 2.5 circles in the skirt.

The back and unruched front pieces serve as a kind of foundation, and the other pieces are sewn onto them rather than meeting at seam allowances. I found the mere thought of trying to chalk this fabric distressing, so decided to try basting my guideline instead. This worked wonderfully and is a technique I will absolutely be using on future projects. I sewed through my paper patterns and fabric pieces on the marked lines with long stitches and then cut the stitches so I could remove the paper while leaving the thread in the fabric.

Here is the ruching sewn to the lining with tacking to show where that should meet the other front.

Figuring out the sewing order was a puzzle in its own right. The back top and back skirt went together fine – this seam is hidden under the ruching. To join the fronts, I bound the edge of the unruched side and placed it over the ruching. I then hand-sewed them together, with a row of stitches on each edge of the binding. It seemed easier and neater than trying to control it through the machine.

The next step was the long side seam on the skirt. I finished the edges of the waist ruching with Hong Kong binding so it was ready to be draped into place. The front skirt has a small slit in the seam allowance so it can fold out of the seam once it reaches the ruching. The unruched bodice also goes in this seam.

Pause again for another interlude of handsewing to attach the waist ruching. This time the easiest way was on the dressform. Then, finally, the second side seam could be sewn.

Then I cut and sewed the 5 semi-circles and embarked on handsewing the roughly 13m of rolled hem.

All that glitters…

When I design dresses, I usually start my drawing on top of a person outline I copied from a how-to-draw book: a basic, standing straight, facing the front, 7 heads tall, two heads wide kinda deal. At some point (probably in a high school textiles class) I was given a page of 'fashion figures', outlines of wispy ladies leaning this way and that, with legs at least a third longer that your average human. I do not understand these. One of the great woes of art is that the thing you end up with never quite reaches the glory of what you imagined – so why would you start your design even further in the realm of the impossible?

Even so, one day I thought I'd try out these figures, and drew myself a 1930s style evening dress.

I decided I didn't like the figure but I did like the dress, and thereon kept an eye out for gold lamé. I eventually found a Very Shiny gold chiffon while shopping in Cabramatta. I knew I would need a lot, but at $4 per metre I could afford to give myself a good margin. I bought 10 metres of fabric and a coordinating thread and Hong Kong binding – a dark khaki that disappeared into the gold perfectly.

Time Passed. This year, the dress filtered to the top of the 'potential project' pile in my mind. A couple of friends had weddings coming up, which a floor length bright gold dress would be Wildly Inappropriate for, but I was also invited to a 30th birthday at a speakeasy-style bar and that made a good goal for a 1930s dress.

I started with a couple of decisions, one being to omit the cape so I could wear a jacket. The other was to make the waist ruching part of the skirt piece instead of a separate sash – mostly to make the patternmaking more interesting.

To make the pattern, I first tried to drape the kind of look I wanted onto my dress form, but that didn't get me what I wanted. Then, I decided to do an initial flat pattern and drape from there. Of course, when making a woven evening gown, the obvious starting point is a pattern for a knit pyjama top (what?) – but it worked.

My steps were:

1. Making a tunic with the right fit
2. Dividing the front into the two panels
3. Expanding the smaller panel to allow for ruching

I started by doing cut and spread. Given that I wanted the ruching to lead back to the shoulder seam, I ended up with very fine cuts. This didn't give enough ruching, so after experimenting some more with the mock-up, I lengthened the pattern at some points down the body.

 

For the skirt, I started with Style 1353. I cut a back and a front, and mirrored the top halves to be all across the hips while allowing sufficient fabric for shaping later. I also left a lot of fabric above where the pattern ends on the front piece to use for the ruching. Once mocked-up, I took the skirt side seam in a fair bit, as this part of the dress is meant to be not so flowy.

 

Then I took it apart and updated my pattern. The back and front ruching sections are on the front skirt pattern, so the ruching goes around without a seam, while the skirt does have a seam.

The flowy part of the skirt I mocked up in miniature so I could see how the circle pieces would behave without using huge amounts of fabric. There are two of these spirals to go along the diagonal edges of the skirt and a semicircle between them on the long side.

With all my pieces worked out, it's time to cut.