There seems to be infinite variety in the words people use for undergarments, so when talking about them, it's good to be clear.  For purpose of clarity, I'll explain the terms I use, before I continue.  Women's underwear for the nether regions, which fits close to the skin, is cut high at the joint of the thigh to the pelvis, and looks like a swimsuit bottom, goes by "underwear", "undies", "panties", or "underpants" in my dialect.  I think they might be called "knickers" in the UK.  Now, in America, "knickers" is not commonly used, and when it is, it has connotations of what the Brits might call plus-fours: baggy trousers gathered at the knee.  If it's clear that underwear is meant, "knickers" implies women's underwear with an element of bagginess or gathering, something more like granny-panties! 

This blouse is a wearable muslin-- by which I mean it's a test garment, but I'm using nice enough fabric and finishing it well enough to wear it.  
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​​THE FABRIC has interesting provenance: a bunch of rose chintz cotton which once covered the shelves at the store where I work.  It lived in storage for several years before my boss gave it to me when she found out I sewed.

​THE BASE PATTERN comes from a fun thrift store find: a 1980's style blouse that looked like it came from a high school production of Hello Dolly!  In its original state, it was hideous: the fabric was pink and synthetic, trimmed with black lace and sequins, and some strange black plastic faux-armor stuff which was falling to pieces.  It had big puffed sleeves and a giant collar/lapel which looked like a mini cape in the back. 

This sweet vintage scarf was given to my niece by a dear friend.  It's a soft synthetic fabric, much worn, much loved.  Seeing numerous holes, and knowing how holes tend to grow when children play with them, I decide to mend this before putting it in her dress-up chest.  

The scarf needs two things: the holes mended and the tattered edges re-hemmed.

In 2015, one of my goals was to put together a Regency wardrobe.  My reason was odd: I considered Regency era dresses to be boring and unflattering (too much like maternity wear to my modern eyes), and thought, perversely, that it would be an interesting challenge to do Regency "right" (i.e. not maternity wear).  ​I'll leave it to the viewer to decide whether I achieved my goal. 

This is a Regency day dress.  It's made of cotton with woven stripes and Swiss dot.  The pattern was self-drafted, with extensive reference to other costume blogs online.  I sewed it by hand, since I meant it to be a living history project.  It goes over my hand-sewn Regency stays and chemise. 

I wore it first to a 2015 steampunk event in Laurelhurst Park, Portland OR (more pictures of that in a moment!).  ​I later wore it, along with bonnet and reticule and other costume things, to the Oregon Regency Society's Picnic at Pittock Mansion in July of the same year. 

A thrift store find, this lovely gown made my sister feel like a mermaid.  She loved it so, that she bought it even though it didn't quite fit, and despite its damage.  I understand: I'm a thrift store shopper myself!  A little skill with a needle can turn trash into treasure!

The first problem was fit around the ribcage.  This dress might have been made for a teenager, perhaps for prom.  The brown straps did not meet in back when my sister wore it.  The second problem was wear.  The train had been trampled (they always get trampled), and many beads were falling off.  Beads has also been wrenched off the tiny halter strap that fastened with a hook and eye behind the neck, as if the wearer had caught beads in the hook.