Over the last several weeks I’ve been sewing. Mending. Making shorts. Making pillow cases for the travel pillow I won’t be taking overseas now we had to cancel the work trip. More mending. And making a skirt.

The skirt, as I mentioned in a previous post, it was meant to be pants, but the pattern I bought for them proved unsuitable. Waist too low and crotch too high. Too much faff to alter it so… skirt.

The fabric came from one of Late Lucy’s dresses. I used a skirt pattern I traced from a favourite a-line skirt as the base, then added as much flare and length as the fabric allowed. Before cutting I’d lined up the yellow and red stripes of the plaid, but after I started sewing I realised the more subtle blue and green stripes didn’t match. So I unpicked and recut and resewed.

Then I stuffed up the invisible pockets on one side and after contemplating only having a pocket on one side so I didn’t have to redo one, decided to put the project aside for a few days. Eventually I did go back with a refreshed sense of patience, fixed the pocket and finished the skirt. I wound up lining it in the black bem silk I’d bought to reline one of Lucy’s old jackets.

There’s something about a long skirt that is particularly appealing. Maybe it’s the swish around the calves as you walk. Maybe it’s the oldy worldy vibe. Maybe it’s more cosy and luxurious somehow, being wrapped up in all that lovely fabric. It has a generosity that is lacking in body-hugging modern clothes. Though fashion does seem to be drifting back toward volume now. Wide legged pants. Oversized jumpers. Non-clingy, unrestricted freedom.

Of course, it’s going to be a while until it’s cold enough to wear it.