As long-suffering Chanel No.6 readers will recall, I wanted to mimic Philip Lim's peach and lilac look above: as well as Burda's single color tunic, left, Burda, April 2012, model 129.
I wanted to make two tunics at once.
Whoopee! Twice the effort, twice the disasters! Let me count the ways!
The first disaster came from a misunderstanding with Thai Silks. I begged them in writing to send my fabric order by normal airmail only. Instead they send it by airmail express, pushing the total cost of the package-plus-shipping over the Swiss customs limit, incurring another hefty fee from my mailman on delivery. I've sent the Thai people a rocket trying to explain to them that they tripled the cost of my purchase through their well-intentioned shipping decision.
Second, when the fabric arrived, it was far more transparent than I thought. I should have ordered the more expensive devoré crepe, not satin.
Third, the venerable RIT company blew me off with their refusal to sell an overseas customer powdered dye, in order to obtain a custom two-tone look guided by their mixing advice online. A few of you extremely kind sewists even offered to send me the RIT dyes from America (WOW! such goodness out there!) but I did revert to the drug store stuff they sell in Switzerland, which unfortunately doesn't match up with the nifty RIT dye guide. So I was on my own.
Getting my peach required going back to the site here Dye Mixer to get the right proportions between pink and yellow. I arrived at a very soft peach and lilac.
Four, I learned that mixing a truly light pastel means using so little dye in the bucket that you don't get a rich and even look. Some of the China silk came out blotchy. A few crystals of yellow mar the peach lining and the blue isn't quite even. Happily the satin devoré came out okay so all DIY sins would be under cover.
Finally, I had my fabrics, except...
Five, (and here's where we move from irritating to frustrating to near-tragic) the China silk length for the blue version caught fire going into the simmering bucket of dye-water on the gas ring. I lost a good half foot of carefully measured and ordered silk. I burned my fingers. I nearly lost some hair, but caught it all in time. Hence some crazy-woman layout problems which were solved by a single-layer cutting lay-out sacrificing some seam allowances.
To save money, I'd reckoned on using the cheaper China silk as the underlayer of the tunic attached to the fluttering satin hem. Here's how the peach-lilac under-layer looks on the machine. This was after another disaster (six, if you're still counting) where I had to rip off both blue satin hems as I got confused when part of the lining was turned in and part of the lining facing out. Not your usual configuration, and most annoying as I was using French seams throughout.
(By the way, Burda French edition calls them English seams. I wonder what the Russian edition calls them, maybe "Ukrainian seams?" And the Brazilian edition calls them, "Venezuelan seams?"
Here's the blue tunic, left, waiting for more thread. Yes, seventh blunder, I didn't buy enough thread for the project.
We persevere. I hope to be able to give you a photo of one of these tunics being worn at son Theodor's Cambridge U. graduation on the 28th. Any sewing victory will be eclipsed by our musician T.'s own triumphs—including winning the university-wide award for best performance in exam. On to the Royal Academy of Music in London for his master's in violin and conducting.