When I found myself cutting out yet another maxi-length skirt, I worried for a moment that I’d never see my ankles again. And, then in the next moment, I was OK with that. I mean, the gals in the 19th century rocked maxi skirts and dresses everyday, all day. Playing tennis, riding bicycles, running after children, running households….basically saving the world.
It’s too bad I’m a klutz when I wear long, full skirts. Tripping over or stepping on my hem, getting it caught in car doors, letting snacks melt in my pockets —like a stylish anti-hero. So, this may be my last 35-inch skirt of the season. A great occasion for a wide, mudcloth waistband. And an even better one to make the basic white tee that eluded me all summer.
A dreamy chocolate linen from my stash wanted to be a summer neutral, but needed a little something to tame the rich color. Something like the fab-u-lous mud cloth I bought somewhere at sometime in the past that I can’t quite remember. It’s history didn’t matter the moment I attached the skirt to the waistband. The two fabrics were so right for each other, you’d think they’d met on eHarmony instead of in my sewing room.
The mud cloth has a canvas weight, so interfacing wasn’t necessary, but the two-inch waistband could’ve used more support, maybe even boning at the side seams or hidden elastic that would act kinda like a snugly interlining to keep it from collapsing. I fastened it at center back with a zipper and a massive sew-on snap. I love the look and novelty of it, but after a hearty meal, that snap has been known to randomly pop open like a jack in the box (scaring the snap out of me), so I think I’ll go back to boring, more predictably behaving closures.
The volume of this skirt is what I love most about it. It’s also what I have to get used to so I don’t end up face-planting. Maybe I can help someone appreciate the awesomeness of a handmade skirt instead of being distracted and (possibly entertained) by its uncoordinated wearer.