I made my first dress in early February, as an act of self-preservation. The summer, one that would become Western Australia’s hottest on record, was reaching temperatures over 40°C weekly. This was not a comfortable for many people, but it made getting dressed particularly challenging for me.
I love clothes and own many – too many – but in recent times I’ve found it difficult to find items that play well with my chronic skin condition. When it’s hot I need lightweight low-touch clothes. I shop carefully, paying attention to the textile labels. After an online shop of supposedly 100% linen clothing went awry, a different instinct kicked in. I’d have to make my own.
I’m a career maker, but I had only sewn soft toys with my nieces and nephews, and stitched up a couple of simple costumes, before attempting this garment.
A frayed and too-small silk dress, previously my extreme weather go-to, was a rough guide. I paired a breathable and washable light cotton fabric with wide and soft cotton cording to make a feature of thick straps that wouldn’t cut into my skin, even if pulled.
French seams, I saw on other favoured garments, mean no raw or overlocked edges to irritate, or threads to soak in the pools of lotion that I must anoint myself with twice daily. A bit more cording was employed over surface seams, again to hide the edges that had to be turned away from skin. The result, a medicinal dress.
