This dress and I have a history. The fabric and I first met in a Margate bric-a-brac shop just after Christmas. We thought we'd get on well. Then I noticed the pattern in the February issue of Burda style. We introduced ourselves over a cup of tea and decided to give it a go. The dress progressed, friendship blossomed. All was going so well. Until, dress completed, we had a major argument during the first proper fitting when it became apparent that instead of being a lovely, low-fuss, 60s inspired shift, she was actually a big brown swirly sack. With pockets. And frilly sleeves.
Feet were stamped, nasty words were said, we decided to never speak to each other again.
Then, after a good night's sleep and a bit of perspective, I decided to be the bigger person (after all, I was actually the person in this relationship). We talked it out and realised that instead of making alterations, the only thing to do was to take the whole dress apart, cut it out in the next size down, and then, finally stitch it back together again.
Two nights later, dress finally finished, the relationship was well on its way to being mended. It's been hard work, but I feel I've grown as a person, while the dress has, well, become a smaller but better dress.
In the end, it was worth it.