Deadly Night-shirt

I use "deadly" here in the slang form popular in the Top End of Australia, where it's equivalent to wicked, sick, etc. It's another word for awesome.

I do not use it in the traditional and purely empirical sense as in "this nightshirt will kill you". It's for my father, after all.

Dad had only one request for Christmas (the Christmas just gone). His current crop of nightshirts are well worn and he was after some new ones. So mum brought down an old one a few months ago and I cut it up to make a pattern, planning to make Dad two new nightshirts in time for Christmas.

Well, of course that didn't happen, did it? Work got busy, as it always does, and before I knew it, Christmas had come and gone and no nightshirts were evident.

So top of my Crafty Goals for 2012 list - I must actually divulge the contents of that list to you soon, as I seem to be referring to it rather often - was not just to finish this project, but to actually *start* it.

This is actually stage 1, test shirt. I really like the result, even though it has a few dodgy bits to it (sorry Dad).

And I especially like the fabric; it's a mish-mash of spice tins, mustard jars and other kitchenly items; as well as chemist stuff like camphor balm and throat lozenges.

This was perfect, because my father is a fantastic cook and spent many years lecturing in food technology, PLUS he is also a chemist (the scientific kind, not the pharmacy kind) so I feel it's highly appropriate. And I had just the right amount of yardage for exactly this shirt. It was meant to be.

I learnt a few lessons during the sewing process - ah, the fun of copying without pattern instructions - such as: do not forget to serge all seams before connecting sleeves to shirt body.

And also: affix the backing voile at the neckline seam before sewing the front and back sides together, you idiot.

I believe that Nightshirt Number Two will be even deadlier as a consequence of this learning experience.