Getting Fitted

I’m going to attend a wedding soon, and the dress has been picked. It is a lovely color, but the shape is a bit too big. In fact, when I tried it on, the skirt splayed out. Even so, I like the design. It makes one feel like a princess.

We found a seamstress ten minutes away. She was nice, explaining that her hours were between 11 AM and four PM three days a week. I don’t have a proper heel for the wedding, and she requested I bring that so as to hem the skirt properly. Even so, I decided to go anyway with my mom. Everyone wore masks, and did as much social distancing as possible.

I have to admit, going to a seamstress is something that is romanticized in fantasy novels. The idea of someone attending to you is quite a nice idea, that they will design clothes that fit you perfectly because of that measuring tape and adherence to proportions. I think that the Dragon Slippers trilogy by Jessica Day George does help.

Usually in these stories, the dressmaking can take as long as several days. That would allow for measuring time, the enegy involved. Seamstresses in this day and age are not that much different. They need time, something that a customer can easily give them due to the fact that special occasions are a few days away. It’s basic courtesy to give them that time.  Otherwise, you may end up hurting someone’s feelings and stressing them out unnecessarily.

As part of taking measurements for adjustment, I had to put on the dress. It has a lot of layers to it, and a soft feel. The problem is that it’s too long, especially since I’m very short. You can imagine how it billowed around me, and how the fabric was fluttering when it was supposed to go down my knees rather than being bunched up. I was making an effort to not step on the skirt. It was not easy.

Then I forgot one bit about what you have to so when a seamstress is sticking pins and marking where to hem the skirt: “Don’t move.” This is something you may hear when getting your blood drawn, or when a stylist in a salon is blow-drying your hair or instructing you to put your nails under a dryer. I hadn’t considered that you would need to hear it when someone is deftly inserting safety pins into the straps to shorten them.

I’m a naturally fidgety person, and this was my first time getting a dress adjusted. As a result, I was moving around a bit too much for the seamstress’s liking. She asked if I could stand still, rather than look down to see what she was doing. I focused on a distant wall.

Eventually, I looked ahead and stood still while she went around the skirt with chalk. She helped me down from the cushioned seat that seamstresses have because I was worried I would wobble over. It was a good thing that I hadn’t jostled any of the safety pins, so that the measurements.

The dress is going to look fantastic, mark my words. I know I’m in good hands and can’t wait to try it. Even so, I’m going to remember to stay still for longer.