Dress Like a Peasant - Parte Ye Third
You know, some days I really, really - I mean REALLY hate computers. This attempt will constitute the ninth time I've tried to actually post the next chapter in the ongoing saga to Dress Bob Like Ye Peasant; none of the other attempts have worked. Our website software has been experiencing what we in the technical and allied trades call 'technical difficulties', which is a polite euphemism for "&%$#$!!! stupid #%^$!! machine, I will throw you into the river if you don't work, see if I don't!".
So I'm writing this in another text editor, so I don't lose my profound verbiage for the tenth time.
Today, my angels, you witness the result of my manly fortitude. I cut wool.
The linen bits (but for one, which deserves its own post, which is forthcoming) are finished. So I'm on to RH004's Hood, probably the easiest of the woolen bits to sew successfully.
It's a lovely mustard-yellow twill (I think it's flannel), washed and fulled within and inch of its life; 
it's thick, sploofy, soft and, to my mind, utterly divine.
To keep my sanity under control, it's simple as pie to sew up, too - it's really one big rectangle with some triangular gores sewn in. There's a small gore at the front, and a larger one in the back. The rectangle, or main body, is cut on the fold, and the fold sits on the top of one's head. So the gores don't even need to have slits cut for them!
Once the gores are sewn in, the back gets sewn up from the point of the gore to the fold.
From there it was a matter of throwing the thing on my head and seeing how my face sticks out the front.
In my case, the front opening was rather too large, so I decided to follow the Embellishment tips in the historical notes and add a few buttons. Simple, really, as I made the buttons out of cloth scraps from the cut-out Hood. Then it was time to really embarrass myself.
See, it turns out that, for all my innumerable talents, one of which I'm not possessed is the ability to make nice, pretty buttonholes. Mine, I'm afraid, look rather more like, well, some other kind of hole in a much more
unpleasant place.
At least the first one did. The second was visibly better, the third better yet, and the fourth finally started looking presentable. Still and all, I won't even snap a photo of them, much less post the result. If you want to point and snerk that badly, you're just going to have to luck out and find me wearing my Pleasant Peasant kit at an event.
Until then, it's all in the imagination - or how well you can blow up this image. I wish you luck.
Until next time, gentle readers, when I show you my foray into sewing orangey wool into a Tunic, I wish you the best of days. Good night, and good lick.
it's thick, sploofy, soft and, to my mind, utterly divine.
To keep my sanity under control, it's simple as pie to sew up, too - it's really one big rectangle with some triangular gores sewn in. There's a small gore at the front, and a larger one in the back. The rectangle, or main body, is cut on the fold, and the fold sits on the top of one's head. So the gores don't even need to have slits cut for them!
Once the gores are sewn in, the back gets sewn up from the point of the gore to the fold. From there it was a matter of throwing the thing on my head and seeing how my face sticks out the front.
In my case, the front opening was rather too large, so I decided to follow the Embellishment tips in the historical notes and add a few buttons. Simple, really, as I made the buttons out of cloth scraps from the cut-out Hood. Then it was time to really embarrass myself.
See, it turns out that, for all my innumerable talents, one of which I'm not possessed is the ability to make nice, pretty buttonholes. Mine, I'm afraid, look rather more like, well, some other kind of hole in a much more unpleasant place.
At least the first one did. The second was visibly better, the third better yet, and the fourth finally started looking presentable. Still and all, I won't even snap a photo of them, much less post the result. If you want to point and snerk that badly, you're just going to have to luck out and find me wearing my Pleasant Peasant kit at an event. Until then, it's all in the imagination - or how well you can blow up this image. I wish you luck.
Until next time, gentle readers, when I show you my foray into sewing orangey wool into a Tunic, I wish you the best of days. Good night, and good lick.