Cinderella Story

Or at least, no longer a total mess. It's progress.

A photo from above of about three-quarters of a muddy-gold dress bodice, which runs out of frame at right and bottom, and has a shallow scooped neckline and armscye. The corresponding sleeve runs horizontally left from the bodice, with a small triangle of fabric pointing down at the armpit. A thick grey dog bed fills the lower left corner of the photo.
Pardon the weird angle and the dog bed.
To reduce the seriously baggy shoulders to something more humanoid (this is, after all, a middle-class 12th-century-styled cote, not a 13th century batwing cote), I trimmed a shallow curve into the armscyes and sleeve heads. I left the shoulder seam untrimmed, because the beaded collar trim will fit exactly one size and type of neckline, and I don't feel like making yet another cote just to fit the trim.

A close-up of three enclosed French seams in muddy-gold fabric, two branching off high and low right, and one continuing left. A silver needle threaded with tan sewing thread is inserted through the left seam allowance.
A confluence of seams!
French seaming the sleeve heads went smoothly, even at the three-way intersection of gusset seams and side seam.

Several French seams in muddy-gold fabric, some completed and some waiting for the enclosing step. Three seams converge from lower left and bottom to form a large wedge pointing to upper right, with two enclosed seams branching away left and right near the apex and one enclosed seam continuing to the upper right corner from the apex.
I have no idea why those don't match.
The side gores, on the other hand, did not line up as neatly as they had before, and I made the executive decision not to care. Most of that seaming will be hidden under a sash, anyway.

A close-up of a white left hand pinching a thick set of two seams upright, showing the layered seams and two silver pin heads anchoring the folded muddy-gold fabric. A silver needle threaded with tan sewing thread is inserted just below the seams on the right, ready to enclose them.
Those pins are clinging to their straightness with the desperation of a Republican politician whose Craigslist ad seeking 'nubile boys' was just blasted across social media.
For multi-seam intersections like this, I treat all the seams as one until I reach the point where there's enough intervening fabric to enclose each seam separately.

A close-up of a very wide French seam in muddy-gold fabric, with a silver needle threaded with tan thread inserted into the seam allowance at left, ready to continue enclosing the seam.
Okay, okay, that was a low blow. (Cue cymbals.)
And I was lazy again and didn't trim down the selvedges—but I'd already stitched them together in the orientation for French seaming, so I still had to enclose them.

A pair of gold herom scissors with silver beak/blades, pointing at a few loose thread ends emerging from a finished seam in muddy-gold fabric.
I'm just so charmed by the little green heron scissors. Less charmed by the runaway threads everywhere.
As I stitched, I flipped the garment to check for stray threads I hadn't enclosed, and clipped them right at the fabric surface. With wear, the tiny fuzzy ends will slip to the inside of the enclosed seam.

A large rectangle of muddy gold fabric, with a thick enclosed seam running the length of the rectangle. Small grey pencil marks cross the seam about an inch from the raw lower edge of the rectangle and four inches higher than that. More muddy-gold fabric is piled under the rectangle, on top of the photographer's denim-skirted lap, which also holds a pair of gold stork scissors.
You're looking for the two small, faint pencil marks on the seam.
On the first set of sleeves, I'd pulled a thread parallel to the cuff edge at the first and second fold lines, to make sure the cuffs were exactly the same width all the way around and as compared to each other. I didn't do that with these ones; I just measured and marked on the seam, and winged it (wung it? anyway).

A wide sleeve in muddy-gold fabric, with the raw edge of the cuff turned up and pinned, and one pin on top of the seam holding the second turn of the wide cuff.
This is the part where I get stabbed a lot.
I pinned the first fold so that I wouldn't be wrestling with trying to hold it in place while folding up the cuff a second time. This strategy might be more satisfying for those with impervious hands. Mine are more...perforated.

A close-up of a pinned seam in muddy-gold fabric, with a silver needle threaded with tan sewing thread inserted for the next slip stitch.
Lo, the slip stitch again. This is why I didn't take photos of hemming.
Slip stitched the cuffs in place, and spent a nice long while pinning and stitching the hem, which needed only slight trimming to smooth out the curve and shorten the skirt a little more at center front.

A close-up of a yellow beaded vine on blue cloth, with a blue-beaded leaf curling off the vine. A loop of navy thread springs up from the tip of the yellow beaded central vein of the leaf, and dips down through one of the blue beads at the tip of the leaf. In the background, muddy-gold cloth is piled high.
Those yellow beads really aren't neon in person.
Before I reattached each piece of beaded trim, I went over it to check for loose threads and beads, and restitched or tightened up the existing stitches as necessary to keep everything firmly anchored. Ideally, I would have figured out which of the six Medieval Bead Colors to use for the background and filled it in (hint: the only color I have not already used is green. I could potentially use white or black with a little modification to floral details...), but clearly I was lazy didn't have time for that.

A close-up of a yellow beaded vine on blue cloth, with a blue-beaded leaf curling off the vine. In the background, muddy-gold cloth is piled high.
I promise. They aren't.

Loose beads fixed, I aligned the side seams of the sleeves and beaded cuffs, fit the folded edge of the cuffs over the sleeve, and pinned and smoothed and fiddled until I was happy with how they lay. The new sleeves are ever so slightly larger in circumference than the old ones, so there's slight permanent rippling at the cuff, but it's subtle even to me.

As nearly everything else with a folded edge, the cuffs are attached with a slip stitch, though a larger one than I normally use. The idea is that the collar and cuffs can be removed to wash the dress, and placed back on, so I make stitches closer to the length of a basting stitch to speed the reattachment process and make removing them before bath time easier.

A round, heavily beaded blue collar, attached to a muddy-gold dress. The motif is a bright-yellow undulating vine, with offshoots bearing blue-beeded leaves and red-beaded flowers with white and black accents. The beading lines are wobbly in places, but it's a strong graphic design anyway.
Not that you'd know.
The collar got much the same treatment, with the added complexity of needing to align all three layers of eyelets at the back neck, three on each side. The folded edge fit the neckline quite well; the open edge of the trim needed some coaxing to lay flat—again, slightly different dimensions, though not enough to cause major difficulties.

After the collar was stitched on, the only remaining task was to rethread the lacing at the back. Someday (hopefully) soon, I'll post photos of the completed garment on an actual human, rather than draped limply on a hanger.

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