How To Make A ‘Modest’ Crop Top

I’m rubbish at sewing, and most things society think a woman should be good at (including tiding anything). Disregarding this, I took my hand to recreating a top I bought from a charity shop for £2. It was like a doctor’s shirt to start with, so I decided to make it a little more ‘wearable’ because I loved the pattern.  The most difficult thing about this is threading a needle with fat fingers.

Original Top

1. Decide the length of your top, any length from visible stomach wobble to visible knobbly knees. Draw a dash with tailors chalk where you want to chop. Lay the top on a flat surface and use a ruler to draw a line across the top, one inch below the desired length. Using fabric scissors, cut along the line – it doesn’t matter if it’s messy.

Cut Top

2. Turn the top inside out and fold up the bottom to the desired length (I’m saying that too often). If the fabric is thin, fold the excess fabric in again towards the crease. Go along pinning the fabric in place as you do this. Pinned Top

3. Iron over the hem – the fold we just created, so that the crease is more defined and easier to work with. Here, you can either tack with big stitches to hold the hem in place, or keep the pins in if you don’t mind being pricked every two seconds.

4. Thread the needle and using simple stitches, go around the hem to sew it in place. To begin, tie a knot in one end of the thread and chop the excess as close to the knot as possible. Insert the needle while the top is still inside out, so the knot will not be visible.

5. I used white thread, but use which ever colour compliments the top most. As you will be able to see the stitching using this method, ensure it is neat unless you are going for a messy look. I like the stitch showing, because I find it adds interest to the top.

Final TopMe in Top

City Life

  My knowledge of City life extends to walking in the right side of the pavement to avoid being trampled on by an army of suits. Once I confused a bus driver so much, he took me to the other side of the road. On the curb, arms are flung in front of me in an attempt to protect me from oncoming cars – often whizzing by unnoticed to my bewildered eyes. I planned on living my life in the seclusion of fields and country lanes, in order to lower the probability of my premature death. 

Planning is utter codswollup. We’re moving to a city. 

A new house. A new college. A new set of friends – except a few, obviously. A new school for most my age is enough to worry about, so why am I not insane? Either it hasn’t sunk in to my mess of a mind that this is really happening, or maybe I’m actually just okay with the premise. What if it suddenly slaps me across the face, and I turn into a lunatic with pink streaks in my hair? I don’t know why I’d get pink streaks. My stomach swirls with a mixture of emotions when I think of it – upset, worry, panic. Then excitement, curiosity and intrigue.

It was looking forward to a new college along side my best friend and boyfriend, I feel a little left out they’re going without me. The college was impressive, but strangely even when I went to an open day it didn’t feel like I was going to go there. I could of walked to this college, and sat on the river bank with my boyfriend or best friend during frees. Maybe I’m a daydreamer, I’m sure we’d be too busy to sit around. Alex has already got a load of ‘mates’ (reckons himself a tough guy) at college, so he’d be with them often. As for my best friend, surely it’s better to make a few new friends too and widen your horizons? 

The new college I will have to cycle to – lets see how long I live. My bags will go in a basket on the front of my bike, as I peddle up a steep hill, sweat dripping from my forehead. I’ve already been given mountains of summer work, to which I’m building up the courage to start (anyday now, I will find motivation). Not to brag, but there’s two sushi shops down the road, and a billion coffee shops. I can imagine myself working quietly in the corner of a coffee shop with a cappuccino and a masterpiece forming in front of me – unfortunately, I don’t like coffee and I hate going places alone. 

I can’t wait to redesign my own bedroom, I’m thinking bohemian style with a canopy and a multicoloured wall mural – in the perfect, brilliant white, brand spanking new house. My parents may be the reason for my premature death if I were to do this. Although it will be my hidyhole from the busy city, so I plan to make it very cosy. I’d like big cushions, thick rugs, artwork hanging on the walls and a desk to do some work in peace – also a super fast internet connection for flawless FaceTime with Alex. 

I’ll need a job. I want to visit Alex, and he will hopefully want to visit me. It’s a three-ish hour train journey, where I plan to get all my homework done. I mean, I’m still hedging my bets on the chances of me getting car… hint, hint. I’d like a job in a little vintage shop, telling everyone they look ‘gorgeous darling’. But I suppose I can’t be picky, employers aren’t exactly begging for non-experienced sixteen years olds. The problem is, I’m a college during the day, will often be coming home at weekends and I’m terrified to walk anywhere at night alone. Although I’m sure my ugly mug emerging from the dark will protect me from potential threats at night.

I guess this may be pretty boring unless you’re going through the same thing as me, so I’d like to say I’m sorry – but I’m not. Sometimes it’s nice to write things down, and also get other’s opinions. I’m not worried, I’m fine no matter where I am. Aslong as I have the people around me that make things not quite so serious.