Vintage Red

I don't know about you, but when I was a kid I never followed instructions, I'm pretty sure "I'm sure this will work better" was my motto. And then, as it is now, doesn't really ever work for me the way I think it will, yest I still do it.

You are correct, I made my first attempt at grading! Well, actually, step one, tracing. Apparently I need to go back to 2nd grade.

Experiment #1:
Aim: To accurately transfer a vintage pattern to a new pattern that can be altered without harming the original
Hypothesis (optional): That I am a bitchin' pattern maker and can do this in a day
Equipment: Tracing Paper, Pen, Rulers, Endless amounts of patience
Procedure:
1. Use a tracing paper that you can see through, you can scan or retrace on sturdier paper later
                 Inner Child: Laahame. I say use brown paper, it's A; Cheaper, and B: sturdy and you can use it to make 
                 everything off of! Two birds with one stone.
2. Trace the pattern, carefully, recording all notations on the original pattern. 
                Inner child: Whaaaat! Do you know how long that is going to take! Skip it, you should do a "dry run" and 
                not put the marking in. You can always fill it in later. Dude, I should totally write instructions, move over, 
               give me a crayon. 
Safety/Risks: Possible alcoholism by end of session.
Results: A completely unusable pattern for regrading. No crayons were harmed in this experiment.
Conclusion:  In conclusion I turned my frown upside down and used it to make a muslin cut out. I'm sure my inner child was planning that all along.I vow to never make short cuts again (lie), and will be purchasing tracing paper tout de suite! I did however use it to sew a muslin of the dress, because I was really curious to see what the finished project would look like.


Pictorial Evidence:

Totally random side note for amusement purposes: 

I often "argue" with my boyfriend about leaving stuff about, such as piles and piles of papers. Therefore, I occasionally get my passive aggressive side on, and take them and make new 'arrangements" out of the piles, totally screwing with his "filing system".

Mean? Yes.

Funny? Yes.

Worth it? Well I thought so, until he got even.

So I was tracing up a storm a few weeks ago and left my sewing table in the living room (which, incidentally, is the best thing I have ever bought in my entire like, sorry Ipod, you have been replaced!). We were having people over and he was complaining about me leaving it in the living room, which I snapped (while cooking the ENTIRE dinner) that he could just move it if he was going to be such a baby. All I heard was a "oh, I see. I'll get right on that" in the tone I used to give to my mom when I was going to be a smart ass about something.

I think a picture will do it justice.

Before:

After:

Need I say more? I got served. Touché honey, touché...