But It Should Fit!

[notalwaysright]

I've done costuming for years. I've done chainmaille, I've done leather working, I've done prop construction and I'm a trained blacksmith.

You, sir, are awsome.

I was making a dress for a woman- a Victorian era ball gown. We're talking whole nine yards; cinch corset with bead work and lace, pleated hoop skirt with bustle, bloomers, puffy-sleeved blouse with a coat covered in even more lace, bead-work and embroidery. Bottom line- her bill was topping $5,000 for this dress. Everything was hand done and frankly, I should have charged her much more.

This is what people come in and want to make in a day, for $20, and have never sewn before. This!

I feel like I got hit by a freight train. I swear as I type this, I really do think I'm through with custom work and just... I think this is that defining moment where people in movies go "Okay! I'm going to be a super villain now! Bring me a death ray and a fluffy cat!" It is passed 3:30 am and... well, I guess I feel better getting it off my chest. But a huge chunk of my faith in humanity is gone.

I know you're mad, but this last bit just made me laugh. I worry that I'll crack one day and take someone's precious fabric that they don't want to pay for and cut it all up into tiny pieces. "Now you can't have it! Mawhahaha!" Oh, and that comment about not telling people she had work done? Um, if they saw her before, they will KNOW. You won't have to say anything.

[taxguykarl]

Now, now, XC. You know SC's are impervious to logic...and common sense (which will be redefined as a superpower in our lifetime).

[Sapphire Silk]

I . . . . I just have no words.

This woman's picture should go in the dictionary next to "Entitlement Whore."

The worst part is you have a dress that you can't turn around and sell to someone else. At least not easily.

I can see why you feel the way you do. Sometimes I've had patients or students who've made me feel that way.

So try this: think of the really cool costumes you've made and the happiest customers you've ever had. Because it sounds like you do a real craft, something to be proud of. You CREATE. How many people can do what you do? Not that many.

You have a gift. Don't let this bitch drive you away from it angry.

[XCashier]

She knew she was getting work done! She knew her figure would be radically different than before. Why the did she not wait until after the surgery to get the measurements, or at least tell you beforehand that she was planning to get work done?!

The absolute stupidity of some people just floors me. This is why I have never and will never sew for anyone except myself and immediate family.

[FerrousBueller]

Ugh... I've never felt like this. I've lost sleep over a customer interaction before, but this one takes the cake. I stumbled on this site while trying to just... find a place to vent. I hope this is the right venue. I've got a list of them, will probably share them over the coming weeks.... who knows, maybe some-one will find them funny. I just had to get this one out so I can try and get some rest.

I've done costuming for years. I've done chainmaille, I've done leather working, I've done prop construction and I'm a trained blacksmith. I've done painting and carpentry and theater design and ... well, I've got a BFA so I pretty much take any job that will pay the bills.

Over the years, I've had people come up with some whoppers. So many stories... but this one... this one just has had me gritting my jaw at the sheer absurd idiocy of some people.

I was making a dress for a woman- a Victorian era ball gown. We're talking whole nine yards; cinch corset with bead work and lace, pleated hoop skirt with bustle, bloomers, puffy-sleeved blouse with a coat covered in even more lace, bead-work and embroidery. Bottom line- her bill was topping $5,000 for this dress. Everything was hand done and frankly, I should have charged her much more. It was one of those things where the customer kept talking up the project. Had I known she'd do this to me, I'd have tripled or quadrupled my asking price. Anything to deter what was to come.

The customer was a 31 year old girl, 5'2" and petite as can be. When I measured her, her measurements are.. well, A-cup at best. And her hips were wider than her shoulders by over 10 inches. I try not to judge as I'm built like a Buffalo myself, but this woman was built like a sawhorse. A tiny sawhorse... the kind you put in a doll house.

To top it all off, her attitude is terrible. I'm male. But I'm a tailor. I make things custom and I do my best to do it right. The whole time I'm working with her, it's a constant barrage of innuendo, suggestive comments and things that if my wife was there, there would have been a confrontation that would have made Jerry Springer question his approach to daytime TV. I felt dirty when she left and asked my wife to attend when this girl came back in for her sloper fitting (A sloper is a general form-fitting pattern. A good professional makes a muslin version of a garment before doing the final one to make sure it fits well and we don't waste expensive fabric).

When this girl came back in for the sloper fitting a week later, it was okay other than needing to be let out another half inch in the hips. It happens.

I've been struggling to try and figure out how to phrase this next bit. This was 4 weeks ago. She comes in for the dress 3 days ago and... well.... she's now easily a Double D cup. Party Balloon grade Double D Cup. And her hips are proportional. And her thighs are sculpted. There is no other way to put it beyond she went from "Meh" to "Whoa..." Even her lips looked a bit fuller.

This woman was not the same woman I measured for the dress which I just spent the last month working on. There is no biological way her hips could get smaller, her breasts get that much bigger and "perkier" without plastic surgery. Just... there is no physical way. Pregnancy? No, her hips would get bigger as would her abdomen. Diet and exercise? No way it 'phase shifted' from her hips to her chest so vivaciously. We're talking a 10 inch difference over the course of a month.

So my wife and I stare at this woman as she holds up this dress that.... there is no way she is getting into. I start to explain that we'd have to re-do everything and that she'll have to commission another one.

"Another one? But can't you just fix this one?!"

Bead work, lace work, embroidery and... well, her entire figure had changed. There was no way this garment could be altered without being ridiculously obvious it had been altered. We could get creative, but there was just no way to be THAT creative without some-one calling Fudge Work. I explained this all as calmly as I could but the woman was getting more irate by the moment, yelling at me and insinuating that I'd measured "wrongly." That's the word she used. Wrongly.

No... no way. I couldn't have measured THAT wrong. So I get the muslin version and... yeah, she wouldn't have fit into that one either. Chest was too tight, hips too loose, bustle hung low as it didn't have the ... well, gigantic shelf it previously was resting on. It wasn't my measurement that was awry.

After about 45 minutes, I finally had no other thing to say and had to call it like it is.

"Look, if you'd have told us you were going to have work done, we could have measured you after."

"Oh my gawd! I didn't have work done! My body is just a little different!"

A little different is like saying Cheerios are different from Fruit Loops. This was like comparing Cheerios to a bowl of chili.

So we went around and around until my wife finally declares "Look, you can commission another dress or else there is nothing we can do." She'd already paid 75% up front. we learned the hard way long ago never to start work without pay.

"Well then I'm going to sue you! If you don't fix this dress, I'm going to sue you!"

That is my button. The moment you bring courts and lawyers and judges into it, we're no longer friends. So I explain "Fine. If you take us to court, I'm going to show them the test fits, the muslin skirts, your measurements and everything. You'll have to swear under oath for threat of purgery you did not have plastic surgery and they are going to determine if you are telling the truth or not."

The woman got so red and angry, I swear she was going to explode. But the women then growled "Fine! But I want this dress done fast! And if you tell anyone I had work done I'm... I'm.... I can't even right now!" She gave me her husband's credit card (he'd authorized it with us on a previous fitting) and then stormed out.

I feel like I got hit by a freight train. I swear as I type this, I really do think I'm through with custom work and just... I think this is that defining moment where people in movies go "Okay! I'm going to be a super villain now! Bring me a death ray and a fluffy cat!" It is passed 3:30 am and... well, I guess I feel better getting it off my chest. But a huge chunk of my faith in humanity is gone.