‘My wedding dress is very precious to me’: four dressmakers on their all time favourite projects

Dressmaking increasingly seems to be an enterprise of the past, but the internet has helped new generations discover (or recover) a love of sewing. Many are turning to online forums and social media groups to share patterns and news of fabric sales, and to swap tips and words of encouragement. Sewing enthusiasts are also known to meet in real life to showcase their fabric creations.

Here, four dressmakers share their proudest projects. ‘My wedding dress is very precious to me’ ‘We were incredibly happy for over 40 years’: Leanne Pugh at her wedding in 1985 Leanne Pugh’s grandmothers taught her how to sew – and she loved it immediately. “I was figuring out a beautiful, 3D puzzle and I was hooked,” she says.

She made this dress for her second wedding in 1985. The fabric was a Swiss embroidered, bordered linen, purchased in Melbourne and dyed pink in Sydney. “I drafted the pattern myself and because the fabric is cut on the bias it took some manoeuvring,” she says. The embroidered fabric meant the hem, neckline and sleeve pieces had to be individually cut and pieced along curved – rather than straight – edges.

The day before the wedding, she tried on the dress with the help of her fiance and disaster struck. He accidentally broke the zipper and the dress had to be rushed to a nearby clothing factory whose workshop staff swiftly repaired it. “I would have liked to have worn a white dress on the day, but it was 1985 and our marriage was already quite controversial … many people predicted it would be short lived,” Pugh says.

“I think the dress has aged well. It is very precious to me as I lost my husband last year to dementia and we were incredibly happy for over 40 years.” ‘Everyone could see how challenging it was to make’ ‘Sewing allowed me to be creative and express myself through fabric’: Siobhan Leyne in her blouse and Jacquard pants.

Photograph: Jane Duong Siobhan Leyne says she “dabbled” in sewing all her life but pursued the craft in earnest about nine years ago when she injured her legs. “I needed a way to feel good about myself and my body, and sewing allowed me to be creative and express myself through fabric.” In the lead up to Frocktails, a gala where attendees create their own outfits, she decided to make pieces that would challenge her skills.

Her initial plan was a suit made of Jacquard but she couldn’t find enough of the material she liked so she changed her idea to be a top and pants. The top, according to the pattern, had a fitted waist and peplum (a piece of fabric below the waist), but she modified the darts, omitted the peplum and lengthened the top.

“These garments were really the first time that I made big changes to the original pattern to suit my vision,” says Leyne. “I have never trusted my fitting or maths skills well enough to do this before.” The sleeve, however, was almost her undoing. “It is a single pattern piece with a number of origami folds to create the shape,” she says.

But the final result was warmly appreciated at the gala. “The best part of going to a sewing event is that everyone could see how challenging the top was to make,” she says. “It’s amazing when compliments come from a place of understanding what you have achieved.” ‘A splash of colour to the Melbourne CBD sea of black puffers’ ‘I was confident I could hack in a couple of extra design features’: Simon Turner with his blue corduroy suit at a Frocktails event in Melbourne in 2023.

Photograph: Penny Stephens/The Guardian Simon Turner was looking for a hobby when, for his 52nd birthday, he was given a sewing machine and a “learn to sew” course at Melbourne’s RMIT. He was six weeks into the course and had almost finished a pair of pyjama bottoms when the pandemic hit, and he found himself at home with a lot of spare time.

When he realised he could make unique shirts for himself, the hobby became more serious. Sew sisters: the Melbourne gala where ‘it’s not weird to touch each other’s clothes’ Read more At a fabric sale last year, Turner bought an entire bolt (about 30 metres) of blue corduroy and decided to turn it into a suit.

He chose patterns he had used before and made modifications. “I was confident I could hack in a couple of extra design features like a big collar. I also widened the pant legs,” he says. The suit was the first complete set he made, but it won’t be the last. “Having the option to wear them separately or together will ensure lots of wears,” he says.

“And when winter comes, my blue corduroy outfit will bring a splash of colour to the Melbourne CBD sea of black puffers.” ‘It was going to be a graffiti dress originally’ Lisa Howard (right) in her painted silk dress. The belt and necklace feature song lyrics by her husband. Photograph: Penny Stephens/The Guardian Lisa Howard was taught to sew by her grandmother.

She remembers sitting on the floor of her grandmother’s sewing room, hand sewing tiny cushions, curtains and garments for her toy “bear family”. To this day, she still uses her grandmother’s 1970s Bernina sewing machine. Howard had the idea for this dress at the beginning of 2020, when there was “a whole lot of climate crisis stuff happening and then … the pandemic.” She planned to spray paint song lyrics, written by her husband, on the silk fabric.

But silk bleeds when it’s dyed that way, so she used fabric paint to create a gradient of colours. Instead, the belt and necklace are the canvas for her husband’s lyrics: “Come back and sell me the end of the world when I have nothing left to spend money on.” But the ensemble isn’t as gloomy as the lyrics – the silk is layered over yellow knitted fabric to accentuate the vibrant colours..