Come out, come out, wherever you are: Cake Red Velvet Sewalong

It's time that I finally fess up to the entire Internets that I sew. It's nearly worse than when I was five and had to tell (and apologize to) the neighbors for picking tomatoes out of their garden and and throwing them at their house. I can still see the seeds dripping from the siding and feel the tears sliding down my cheeks.

Not that sewing is anything to be ashamed of. Certainly it's a heritage skill, and one can, with some effort, determination, mentorship, and acres of fabric to practice on, become a competent craftsperson. One might even fancy oneself an artisan -- I'll let the tunic and bodkin makers out there go wild with that term.

Sewing for me has happened in my basement, away from the eyes of the world*. In fact, I feel like I'm just to the point where I'm able to fool the world by sporting garments that I've made. Heck, one of the patterns I drafted. But, I still don't have a great deal of pride in what I've been able to accomplish, even though by all rights I should be proud. Isn't it funny how things work out: in my 20s I tried so hard to be alternahip, and now that I am actually peripherally part of a small, loosely connected community of amazingly skilled craftspeople, I have nothing to say about it?

That was before I ordered the Red Velvet pattern and vowed (not an epic, dramatic vow, but a conversation-with-the-pair-of-flickers-in-the-backyard-through-the-window-while-doing-dishes kind of a vow) to become more open about the provenance of my wardrobe.

I'm coming out, people, and this sewalong is going to help me through it: 1) because I've published the link to this blog to the Flickr group, and someone could read something I'm writing; 2) because I'm going to have to actually show people what I've made, people who are knowledgeable enough to recognize what's going well and what isn't; 3) because I'm under deadline; and 4) because it's about damn time for me to own it, nay, rock it.

One of my best early projects was when I lurked during the Colette Patterns Crepe sewalong hosted by Gertie. But, I'm not that person anymore, so no more lurking. It's creepy.

So here we are. I'm in Pearl House, and I'm finally ready for others to know that I'm here :)

*Except, of course, for blurry selfies that I send to my mom when I'm requesting fitting help or post here to keep track of what I'm working on