If you follow me on Insta, you know that I participated in something called #memademay this year. This is an optional motivational tool and fun adventure for sewists who make their own clothes to wear what they’ve made and feature it on social media.

I don’t think most of my friends sew, so while I hope they didn’t get sick of seeing my face in May, there was also the bigger thing of maybe no one caring that I make my own clothes. And the sticky issue of who, exactly, our social media accounts are for.

Us?

Our friends?

Attention for us, from our friends?

*cringe*

I barely participated in #memademay last year because A. I didn’t have that many handmade clothes, and B. I wither under the weight of expectations, real or perceived. But take the fear of failure away, like I did this year by earnestly stating on the first day that I wouldn’t be posting every day with my makes, and suddenly I had a whole month where I was already committed to failing. I really couldn’t lose.

A switch was thrown in my head and I started sewing like a total maniac. I made 5 shirts, 2 dresses, and 5 pairs of pants in just a few weeks. And aside from one day where I didn’t try at all, and two days when I copped out by using a handmade tote bag rather than wearing something I made, I participated every day in May. In fact, I made so many clothes that there were a couple of items that I finished near the end of the month that I didn’t even wear until June.And I kept sewing. Mid-June has rolled around, and I’m still, albeit much more slowly, making things. And on my third dress, a Wiksten shift dress, I realized something: there is an adjustment I can make to my homemade clothes to accommodate my forward sloping shoulders. It’s called a forward shoulder adjustment, and I’d heard of it, but I didn’t know what it was for.

Of course, I had already finished the dress in my chosen fabric when I tried it on and watched the neckline slide to the back till it felt like it was choking me.

A flurry of internet searches later, I had my answer: I needed a forward shoulder adjustment. But since this involves taking fabric off of the front piece and adding it to the back, and the pattern has a stingy seam allowance, I’m not sure if I can make the adjustment.

Also, I hate facings, and the facing on this dress actually turned out great, so it makes me sad that I’ll have to rip it out.

Last week, I went out for the first time in my life, and bought muslin.

Muslin is a lightweight cotton fabric with a terrible drape that is cheap and perfect for making a tester version of whatever you’re making. The idea is you work out the kinks on the muslin before cutting into your beautiful, more expensive fabric.

The Wiksten shift dress is basically a sack, and looking at it, I figured there wasn’t anything I could do to screw up the pattern, and so I saved the muslin for another day. I made the dress with a heavy linen-rayon blend fabric in a fantastic color, turquoise and dark blue woven together in a color called peacock.

I tried it on before I finished the neckline and found the neck to be too high and tight for my liking. Instead of doing something about it, I figured the finished neckline would be low enough for me. I was wrong.

The back of the dress is pleated, so there is a lot of weight back there, and with my sloping shoulders, it all wants to do is slide backward so that the front of the neckline is cutting into the base of my neck.

When I searched to find out why this was happening and discovered my shoulders were to blame, my mind went right back to the 5 tops and 2 dresses I’d already made in May. I could have made that adjustment on all of them. But I didn’t know, and I didn’t do it.

As I sit here typing this, I’m hyper aware of my slouchy posture and trying to sit straight and proud, but I’m pretty sure the damage is done. I’ve always imagined myself being an elderly lady with my head coming out perpendicular to my body.

I sewed for a whole month. I’ve made and worn my own clothes for 6 weeks straight now, and just today, I’m realizing that there is a simple adjustment I can make when cutting my patterns that will make my clothes fit my body better. Most of my other makes are lightweight, so they shouldn’t be sliding around like this latest dress did. Since the dress is a linen blend, it’s floating in a baking soda bath right now to soften up the fabric, after which I will probably have to seam rip the entire neckline and shoulders, and pull the front upward and lower the neckline and hope that retrofit fixes my problems. I’m fairly certain the facing will never again look as good as it does now.

What do they say about an beautifully sewn neckline that also happens to choke its wearer? Like a ring in a pig’s snout? Wait, that’s a hot girl with bad manners…

Discovering the forward shoulder adjustment wasn’t one of my goals for #memademay. It was an accidental discovery. My actual plan was:

1. For handmade clothes I don’t wear frequently or at all, figure out if there was a way to modify them to make them more wearable.
2. Make more clothes in neutral tones.
3. Make clothes that match the clothes I already have.
4. Make clothes that will work for multiple applications.

In that regard, I succeeded. I stayed away from bold colors and prints (with just a few exceptions). Five of the items I made are black, and two are purple. I hemmed a dress I made years ago but rarely wore because it fit like a sack. I lowered the neckline of a shirt whose neckline cut right across the base of my neck instead of scooping underneath it (although NOW I realize what that shirt really needed was probably the forward shoulder adjustment.) I made two reversible dresses, which means I essentially have four dresses. And I have more plans — all of which at this point, involve learning this new adjustment, then figuring out how to apply it to everything that goes on my top half from here on out.

It’s funny, you can see yourself in the mirror and know certain things about your body, but never connect those things to the way your clothes fit. I’ve known for a long time I had a long torso and muscular arms, and I take that into consideration when I make clothes for myself. But I also know I’m a bit of a hunchback and it never occurred to me there was a way to accommodate that in the clothes I was making.

I’m glad #memademay got me sewing again. I’m annoyed that I didn’t realize about this fit adjustment sooner, but it makes sense, because I’m a late bloomer. I’m definitely not surprised.

I hope someday soon I’ll be doing a victory post saying I fixed my dress and it’s no longer trying to kill me, but if not, at least I’ll have learned something.

If this post begs the question, however do I sew with seven children? The photos tell part of that story. Also, they perhaps clarify one of the many reasons I have hunched posture.